Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid

Relationship:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander, Brandon Wiebe, Zane Boodram, Luca Haas, Scott Hunter (Game Changers), Hayden Pike, J. J. Boiziau, Anya | Ilya Rozanov's Dog, Yuna Hollander, David Hollander, Wyatt Hayes, Amber Pike, Ruby Pike, Jade Pike, Arthur Pike

Additional Tags:

Inspired by Freaky Friday (2003), Bodyswap, Post-Book 6: The Long Game (Game Changers), Post-Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Ottawa Centaurs (Game Changers), Crack Treated Seriously, Alternate Universe - Crack, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Not Beta Read, Panic Attacks, Degradation Kink, POV Alternating, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Happy Ending, Confessions

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-01-15 Completed: 2026-01-26 Words: 19,104 Chapters: 3/3

The Freaky, The Freakier, and The Freakiest Friday

Summary

Ilya and Shane don't know how it happened. All they know is they woke up in the other's body. And now, they have games to play, interviews to do, and present an award together. What could possibly go wrong?

Notes

hiii everybody! i tweeted little tidbits and ideas about bodyswapped hollanov on twitter and you guys went feral for the idea and it gave me the inspiration to write a little crack fic on what would happen if they switched bodies after the long game? here is how that turned out. i hope you enjoy this silly fic, and hope you get some enjoyment out of it.

it is treated seriously, but definitely meant to be taken with a grain of salt. i hope i can do the story justice.

Chapter 1

Shane was going to lose it.

It had only been a few months since he signed to the Ottawa Centaurs, and while he was having a blast when playing with Ilya and becoming so closely bonded to his new teammates, he still found himself being held back. He had been Captain of the Voyageurs for so long, he often forgot that he was no longer in that leadership position. It frustrated him when he couldn’t make calls or plays that he knew would benefit the team. 

He had studied each and every member of the Centaurs and was already learning their strengths and weaknesses and where they would be better suited in terms of positions and power plays. Shane had brought a lot of this up to Coach Wiebe and Ilya, and while both appreciated his enthusiasm–Ilya most especially–they had told him to take a breather, and wanted him to settle into his own position in this team. He was still a Centre, of course, but so was Ilya, so he often did not get as much action on the ice that he was used to, and he had a hard time working around that. Shane often found himself stuck and did not know how to move forward, and not being able to flow with his usual routine was getting to his head.

It didn’t help that tonight was the first official game against the Voyageurs since Shane became a free agent and joined the Centaurs. So this meant that he was now playing against the team that he spent countless hours, days, and years building from the ground up. The only reason they were as popular and as good as they were was because Shane was their Captain, and moreover than that, he was their friend, which is why when they iced him out after Ilya and his relationship was revealed, it was even harder to accept that rejection. 

Hayden and JJ, of course, still remained in contact, and even sent him reassuring but also taunting messages about the Centaurs losing tonight. Shane would rather die than let that happen, actually.

Everybody was in the locker room getting dressed, with Ilya’s cubby being posed right next to Shane. Almost everyone on the Centaurs always paired them together during events or games, knowing that their famous hockey husbands would want to be as close as possible. It also helped that they all supported their relationship and often found themselves the talk of the locker room. Sorry to Troy and Harris. 

Once everyone was geared up and ready to head out onto the ice, Wiebe and Ilya took to the center of the room to give a pep talk. General stuff, do your best, score some goals, don’t let the other team intimidate you, all those recycled liners. As cliche as it was, it was good to hear that come from his coach’s mouth. He often heard disappointment and criticisms from his previous coach, and Shane found he did much better with praise than degradation. Most of the time, at least. 

After the talk, Shane ran over to get Wiebe's attention. “Coach Wiebe."

Wiebe turned, giving Shane a smile. “Hollander. What can I do you for?”

“The Voyageurs tonight…” Shane started. 

“Yes, your previous team. I know that will be stressful, but you’re a strong player, no matter the team,” he replied, reaching a hand to rub Shane’s shoulder.

“It’s just…” Shane sighed. “I know their lineup. I know how they like to play. If you and Ilya are okay with it, maybe I could call some counterplays.”

“Hollander, you know you aren’t the Captain,” Wiebe said.

“I know, but I feel like we can win this game if I can just Captain a few plays. I know who to place to face against players. I know who to put in faceoffs,” Shane explained, a hope in his eyes. “I don’t want to lose our first game against them.”

Wiebe let out a breath, rubbing Shane’s back now. “Shane. I know that it’s hard facing your older team. But that is in the past, and so is your time as Captain. Maybe down the line, we can talk to Rozanov and Boodram about switching Captains and Assists, but right now we have a good thing going for us. Take it from me, you don’t want to go in too hot too fast.”

“But–”

“A single game is not going to make or break us, and a single win is not going to make you feel better in the long run,” Wiebe concluded. “I’m sorry. Not this game, Hollander.”

Wiebe gave him a sad smile, and then turned to walk out to the benches. 

Shane huffed a sigh, turning around to see Ilya from across the room, the last one left after the players left for the ice. 

Ilya said nothing, only pursing his lips. Shane glanced at the C on his jersey.

And it infuriated him.

They lost, because, of course they did.

Shane couldn’t help thinking that if he were allowed to call plays, they would be taking a victory lap right now, skating circles around the Voyageurs on their home ice. It would have been a nice feeling, especially to gloat in front of their new Captain, and Hayden and JJ.

He could not even meet Hayden’s eyes as they shook hands down the line. Shane’s eyes fell down lower to the ice when his old teammates–his old friends–laughed in his face, telling him they hope he regrets his decision to marry Rozanov and leave them. It made Shane feel sour inside. Ilya was the best thing in his life, and he would do it all over again if it meant he could still have his ring on his finger.

Ilya and Shane drove to Ottawa in near silence. Shane couldn’t bring himself to say anything at all, too disappointed in himself and the world for being against him. 

It was Ilya who spoke first. “You played a good game, Shane.”

Shane scoffed at that, but said nothing. 

“I know it’s hard to adjust, but–”

“Oh, ‘cause you know everything about it,” Shane spat.

“I do, I know some things,” Ilya tried, reaching over for Shane’s hand. Shane pulled it away, staring out the window. 

“Is this because Wiebe would not let you be Captain?”

Shane stayed silent.

“Shane,” Ilya said. “I get that it is new for you, but trust Wiebe. He knows this team, probably better than I do at this point.”

“You say that like you aren’t the Captain.”

“Is it really that important to you?” Ilya asked, glancing over at Shane at a red light.

“Yes, because it’s where I am most comfortable. You’ve seen how good I am when I can do my own thing and lead. You’ve seen how I made Montreal who they are,” Shane said, shocked that Ilya even asked that.

“I have, and together, we can make the Centaurs great, too,” Ilya tried again.

“Not if I’m sitting back and just watching it fall apart,” Shane sighed.

“I know it’s hard–”

“There you go again. You think you know, but you don’t. You got to be Captain of the Bears and the Centaurs. You have been Captain since after our Rookie season. You have never changed your position. Only changed your team,” Shane accused. “I went from Captain to just Center, and I feel held back from everything I could be doing to help. You don’t know what that’s like. You’ll never know.”

“You don’t know what it’s like to be me, either, Shane,” Ilya said after a moment. “I have my own struggles with responsibility.”

“Yeah, and you have an old team that doesn’t want you to drop dead,” Shane replied.

That drove a knife into Ilya. Ilya opened his mouth to reply, but shut it again. He did not want to fight with Shane. God knows they have had too many ups and downs over the years. He wished he could be able to reassure Shane of how good he is and how good he could be if he gave it time. He wished he could take Shane’s suffering away with a snap of his fingers. 

They sat in silence for the remainder of the ride, neither wanting to continue this already hard conversation. 

They got home well after midnight, hauling their bags into their shared house. They picked up Anya after hours and Ilya gave the attendant an extra big tip for driving out so late. She was happy to do it even without the money, but Ilya knew they did not get paid nearly enough for keeping his girl so happy while they were away. Anya happily trotted through the door, running to attack her stuffed deer on the couch. 

Ilya and Shane got ready for bed in silence. Ilya wanted to try to change the subject and try not to go to bed so upset, but he knew Shane was a ticking bomb and did not want to risk stressing him even more. He had hoped that sleep would help Shane, and that maybe in the morning, they could talk. 

They got into bed and Ilya turned out the light. Ilya had turned to cuddle Shane like he always does, but Shane turned away from him, laying almost completely off the bed. 

Ilya’s heart sank.

Tomorrow, he thought. Tomorrow, you can have your husband again.

He closed his eyes, trying to reassure his heart. 

The night was cold, and the wind blew across the Ottawa trees. A loon called from outside the porch window. Anya lifted her head, curling her ears to listen. She huffed. 

She jumped off the couch, walking over to the porch to sniff the outdoor air seeping through the door. 

When she sensed no danger, she wandered over to the TV, sniffing the dust that settled on the electronics. 

Her nose bumped the power button on the Xbox, the sudden whirring causing her to jump and move away in fright. 

Her tail bumped the game case off the Xbox console, it falling to the floor. Ilya’s NHL cover stares up at the ceiling, the game spinning inside.

Shane woke up first. The light from the sun shined right onto his face and he winced. He opened his eyes and started to stretch, taking a big breath. He already felt his lungs tighten, having a harder time breathing than he was used to. It was cold last night, so it’s possible he might have caught some sort of cold. 

He hoped that if it was a cold, it would resolve before their game with the Admirals tonight. Shane did not want to lose twice in two nights, especially not on his own home ice this time. 

Last night frustrated him, and he knew in his mind that if he had some ounce of control, things may have gone differently. Sleep did help him feel better in the sense that most of the negative emotions he felt drained his body, but he was still angry at his placement in the team. He knew things would change with time, but Shane hated waiting it out. 

He would apologize to Ilya later for his outbursts. Shane knew he was in the wrong for some of the things he said, but it wasn’t like what he said didn’t have some truth to it. 

Shane stood up, needing to go to the bathroom and get ready for the game in a few hours. He walked to their ensuite, rubbing his face to remove the eye crusts from the corner of his eyes. He went to the mirror to check that he got them all and screamed, but instead of his own voice, it was a deep, thick, Russian one.

Ilya’s face stared back at him. Shane watched in horror as he touched it, feeling every mole on his skin. “Ilya!”

Calling his name in his voice did not feel right, in fact, it felt wrong. Extremely wrong. 

He heard shuffling from the bed, footsteps immediately coming into the bathroom at the sound of distress.

“What’s going–” but Ilya paused, looking at his body in the bathroom, speaking in a voice that wasn’t his. 

Shane stared at his own body, confused and in horror. How did this happen? What is happening? 

“Shane? Are you–?” Ilya asked from Shane’s mouth. 

“You?” Shane said back from Ilya’s. “I-I think so?”

And really, this was terrible. This was awful, actually. How could any of this be happening? Shane was starting to panic, feeling his heart beating faster.

And Ilya is laughing. Ilya is laughing in Shane’s laugh. 

“This isn’t funny!” Shane said, pointing a finger between the two of them. 

Ilya went to respond, but he kept laughing. It made Shane laugh too, but for the wrong reason. 

“I’m dreaming,” Shane concluded, rubbing a hand through Ilya’s curls. “I’m fucking dreaming. This is a fucking nightmare.”

“Is it possible to have the same dream at the same time?” Ilya asked, still chuckling. “Because if you’re dreaming, I am too.” 

“How can you joke about this? Does this not bother you?” Shane said, waving a hand over his body. “I’m literally fucking you!”

“Honestly, is amusing,” Ilya replied. “I get to see what I actually look like to people. I’m kinda hot.”

“Fuck… Fuck!” Shane said, sitting down against the wall. “This cannot be happening.”

Ilya kneeled next to him, rubbing his shoulder. “Come on, maybe it is not so bad.”

Shane said nothing, just looking at Ilya’s hands in front of him. 

They stayed like that for a few minutes before Shane’s eyes went wide. “The game! We have a fucking game tonight!”

“Yes,” Ilya replied. “That… That is unfortunate.”

“We have to cancel,” Shane said. 

“They won’t cancel the game, Shane,” Ilya responded. “What would we even say? Sorry, we cannot play tonight. It appears Ilya and I are in each other’s bodies. They would think we are stuck together, like male dog when mating with female.”

Ilya snickered at the idea. Shane stared at him, a serious expression on his face. 

“Can you not be an ass right now? I’m freaking out. We can’t play like this.”

“Maybe you can’t, but I can. I could always work on your backhand,” Ilya joked.

Shane, not finding any of this humorous, started rocking against the wall.

Ilya kept rubbing his shoulder. “Why don’t we try taking a shower? Try to focus on something not this right now.”

“I’m pretty sure nothing is going to help,” Shane replied. 

“Well, we certainly aren’t going to figure out how this happened and how to switch back if we are just sitting here.”

Shane looked at him, and seeing his own face back at him made him dizzy. He knows Ilya is being reassuring, but this entire situation feels irreversible and incapable of any upside. 

A shower would at least give Shane a sense of control, something familiar. He was in a body he doesn’t know–outside of sex–speaking with a tongue that isn’t his. He nodded and stood up, leading on Ilya as he turned on the shower.

Holding onto his own body was dizzying, like he was next to a twin he didn’t know he had. He could only imagine how Ilya was feeling. 

They stood under the water for a few minutes, just looking at each other in each other’s body. Shane was seeing himself outside of himself for the first time, and he could see every inch of his body that he never got to see before. He saw the curve of his ass, the way his freckles peckered his back. He could see the freckles at the back of his neck that Ilya loves to kiss.

He looks down at Ilya’s body, blushing slightly when he realizes that, yes, that is his dick–Ilya’s dick, and that it has been inside him. It was strange to imagine him fucking his body, and even stranger to think of Ilya fucking him in his own body. 

Stop thinking about that, Shane, he told himself. You’re being weird.

Ilya washed Shane’s hair, figuring that doing his own hair would be easier for Shane. It also felt grounding to have fingers grazing his scalp. 

“Is it weird for you?” he asked. 

Ilya pursed Shane’s lips. “Yes, but more… intriguing? I never see myself. I actually see how my face moves.”

Shane nodded, biting Ilya’s lips. 

“But is still us, yes? Just different body,” Ilya finished, moving the shower head to rinse his hair. 

“Different body, but it's yours,” Shane said. 

“Hmm,” Ilya agreed. 

“Do you think we’ll switch back?” Shane asked, heart skipping with fear.

Ilya only shrugged. “Maybe? I mean…surely whatever is going on has got to end.”

Shane groaned, thinking about how this will change their lives ahead of them. They have to deal with Shane’s parents, and their team, and their friends, and…

Oh, fuck.

They have interviews and appearances this week. Tonight is their first home game with the New York Admirals, and then they have to present at the GLAAD awards. Shane feels panic rising in his body again. The GLAAD awards are a live event, and they asked Shane and Ilya to present Outstanding Documentary together, because they were an out and proud LGBTQ+ couple and their documentary on their hockey rivalry went viral a few years back. And on top of that, there were scheduled interviews on the red carpet. If they did not switch back, they would be trying to do these events while pretending to be the other. 

They have hidden their relationship for a decade, fought constantly for their relationship in the hockey world, spent years long distance once they could finally be together, and yet, that would be the most difficult thing they have ever faced. Shane trying to be Ilya would be Shane pretending to be somebody else, and he had done that for so long in his life that doing it any more would break him completely. If he could not be Shane Hollander, he would rather be in the ground. 

Ilya watched Shane have an internal battle, and brought him in for a hug, letting the water fall on both of them. Even if they were not used to the bodies, it was still them. This hug would never change, because it was still them at the end of the day. Shane lifted his head from Ilya’s shoulder, bringing their lips together. And the feeling of their lips pressed together was a sensation that they have done a million times and yet could never grow tired of. In this moment, in two separate bodies, this was still Ilya and Shane, still sharing a love that never wavered from their first encounter. 

Shane shut off the shower and grabbed a towel, wiping Ilya’s body dry in the bathroom mirror. Ilya came up behind him and hugged him, wrapping his arms around him. He said something in Russian, and it sounded so foreign coming from his own lips. 

Ilya paused, and Shane saw Ilya frown in the mirror. He turned, watching Ilya furrow Shane’s eyebrows. 

“No wonder your Russian sucks, your jaw is so tight, and your tongue can barely curl the letters,” Ilya says from Shane’s mouth, rubbing his jaw with his hand. This was going to make Shane nauseous all over again.

“You’ve always liked my tight jaw before–wait, you think my Russian is bad?”

Ilya shrugged, smirking, like he was enjoying the banter he had started with Shane. 

“I practice like, every day, asshole!” Shane retorts. 

Ilya laughs, Shane’s body rumbling. “Now you know why it took forever to learn English. Now it is near perfect in your tongue.”

He reaches forward to rub his finger over Shane’s lip. “Is okay, we can work on that.”

“Don’t get too excited, Ilya. We still have to find a way to switch back,” Shane replies. 

“Yes, but until that happens, best work with what we have,” Ilya says, leaning forward and kissing him softly. Ilya deepens it, kissing him in the way that Shane knows is trying to suggest something more. Shane is suddenly aware of how naked they both are, and is immediately flustered at the thought.

Shane breaks away and walks towards the bedroom, looking for clothes to put on, and trying to put some space between their bodies before Ilya gets any ideas. 

“You going to leave me like that, Hollander?” Ilya asks, playfully leaning against the dresser in a seductive way. Hearing his last name in his own voice made his stomach churn.

Shane shakes his head. “I am not sleeping with you while we’re like this.”

“What, you never have fantasies of being with yourself?” he asks, a smile creeping on his face.

Shane can feel his face get hot. “No.”

Ilya blows a raspberry. “Mm. Too bad. You are a great lay.” 

“I’d hope so. You slept with me for years and married me,” Shane replies, throwing on underwear and a shirt. It being Ilya’s didn’t help Shane in this situation. 

“Which means you know I am a great lay too,” Ilya teases, kissing his cheek as he reaches for a pair of sweatpants. “Shame I will never get to sleep with myself.”

“Yeah, that seems like such a big problem for you,” Shane sighs, grabbing his phone. The face recognition did not pick up Ilya’s face, and Shane had to type in his passcode. 

Ilya watches him go through his texts, and decides to grab his own phone to check any emails he may have missed after the game last night. 

“We can’t play tonight,” Shane says after a moment. “Not like this.”

“They can’t play without their centers,” Ilya replies. “Or their Captain.”

“They have Bood, and Luca can center,” Shane tries.

“Luca has only centered in practice, and you know he still has a way to go,” Ilya responds. “And Bood has never captained an entire game. He needs my assistance.”

“But we can’t do anything while we’re like this, especially not with the interviews tomorrow.”

Ilya groaned. “I had forgot about that.”

“We can’t go,” Shane concludes.

“We have to.”

“We can’t!”

“No, we can’t,” Ilya says, smiling. “You can’t play wing.”

“Oh, fuck you! Yes, I can!” Shane replies, shoving him lightly on the shoulder in annoyance. “But not like this.”

“Shane,” Ilya says. 

Shane huffs, looking at Ilya. 

“We have to go, we can’t miss the game or the interviews,” he finishes. “We will figure it out. It will be hard, but when have we not gotten through something?”

“And besides,” Ilya stands, reaching for Shane’s hand, pulling him towards the door to let Anya out. “This could be fun.”

“Your lack of worrying about this is the scariest I have ever seen you.”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

The sound of the doorbell scares Anya, her bark echoing through the house.

“Shh, my girl,” Ilya says, patting her head. “Is okay. Is for me.”

“What are you doing?” Shane asks, seeing Ilya grab his wallet from the counter.

“I ordered lunch, I am going to eat,” Ilya replies, walking towards the door. Shane watches as Ilya comes back with a pizza, chicken wings and a cookie tray in his arms. 

“You’re going to eat all that?” he asks in disbelief.

Ilya raises an eyebrow in confusion. “Yes?”

“With my body!”

“So, because it is your body, I have to eat your bird diet?” Ilya asks, an equal disbelief coming across his face.

“Well, not exactly, but you’re going to ruin my body!” Shane says, running over to examine the meal meant to destroy his season-prepped body. 

“Is just food, Shane,” Ilya replies.

“Junk food,” Shane says. 

“Normal food,” Ilya responds, reaching for a slice. 

Shane watches in horror as Ilya takes a bite in his body. Suddenly, he feels Ilya’s stomach growl, like it’s begging for the pizza laid in front of him. Shane then realizes all of the things Ilya does that Shane does not, and how that could affect his body later on. 

“Ilya.”

“Shane,” Ilya says, a mouth full of cheese.

“If you smoke a cigarette with my body, I swear to god,” he warns.

“I am you, but you cannot tell me what to do,” Ilya swallows.

“Yeah, and I am you. I can feel your lungs crisp up when I breathe.”

“And your body feels like it lacks nutrition. How do you do that stupid diet of yours?”

“It’s a professional diet for athletes, and you know that I have worked on tweaking it,” Shane argues. 

Ilya makes a face at him, opening his mouth to eat another bite. 

“Seriously, don’t smoke in my body,” Shane says. The thought of trying to play while cigarette smoke is in his lungs makes his stomach curl. 

Ilya nods like he wants to appease Shane, but doesn’t want to agree to something he may do. “Ilya. I’m serious.”

“Okay! Okay, I won’t,” Ilya says. “I do not smoke during season anyway.”

“You have before,” Shane contorts. 

“Yes, like when I almost died on an airplane.”

Shane goes to reply, but finds he does not have a response. That day still haunts the both of them.

“If you smoke in my body and load it with junk, I am going to tattoo Hayden’s number on your wrist,” Shane threatens, trying to lighten the situation. 

“You wouldn’t,” Ilya says, his eyes opening in worry. 

“I would.”

That stops Ilya right in his tracks. He shuts the pizza box, his appetite now satiated by Shane’s threat.

Shane smiles, happy with his victory.

“You ready?” Ilya asks, loading their bags into the back of Shane’s SUV.

Their game with Scott Hunter and the Admirals was in less than an hour. They were about to face their entire team, a full stadium, and one of their biggest rivals in the league, all while stuck in each other’s bodies. They had to put on a facade that they never had to before, and any mistake could cost them their careers and possibly their friendships.

“No,” Shane replies, taking a deep breath. 

“On we go anyway, right?” Ilya says, starting the car. 

“Right.”

Chapter 2

Chapter Notes

Ilya pulled up and parked in his designated Captain parking spot. Shane found himself staring at Ilya’s hands, flexing them in front of him, like he still could not believe this was happening. 

“Time to go in,” Ilya said, looking at his husband on the verge of another panic attack.

“Are you sure we can’t skip this game?” Shane asked, a bit of hope in his voice, even though he already knew the answer.

Ilya pressed his lips together and shook his head. “But hey, at least you get to be Captain like you wanted to.”

Shane glared at Ilya, frowning. Shane took a breath, as if he didn’t even recognize that responsibility now falling on his shoulders. “But I have to pretend to be you while I do it.”

Ilya hummed. “I think you know me by now.”

Shane sighed and opened the door, heading to the trunk to get his bag. He almost grabbed his own bag out of habit, before he realized that a different body meant different supplies. He wondered how badly they were going to be now that they had to be strategic and play in each other’s bodies. 

“Are you going to center?” Shane asked, looking at Ilya as they walked across the parking lot. His attention was briefly broken by the crowd of fans who saw them walking together and screamed, with signs that said “We <3 Shane & Ilya!” and “Centaurs don’t miss!” 

“Is that what you want? You can bench me if it will be easier,” Ilya offered. 

“I can’t bench you. Everyone knows we do better when you and I are on the ice. We score more goals that way,” Shane replied, pushing open the double doors. 

“Who is going to do face-offs?” Ilya asked.

“Well, I can take most of them, since I’m technically you, and therefore the Captain,” Shane starts. Ilya cuts him off before he can continue.

“Yeah, but we all know I do better in the face-offs. I’ve beat you too many times to count.”

“Oh, fuck you! I’ve won my fair share of them. You also cheat!” Shane exclaims, hitting Ilya playfully on the shoulder. 

“I have never cheated in my life, I am fair player,” Ilya says, smirking. “You get too flustered. All I got to do is make you blush. And I am very good at that.”

Ilya bites his lip and reaches around to grab one of Shane’s cheeks. It being his own ass gives him a rush, the cheek bouncing in his hand a lot more than Shane’s does. Shane gasps and Ilya watches his own face go red. Maybe Marlow had a point all those years ago about him blushing. Not that he would ever admit it. 

“Oh, c’mon guys!” Hayes says, turning around to give them a look. “Flirting right now?”

“Do you expect anything else from us?” Ilya says on instinct, and Shane’s eyes widen and turn to him. Shane would almost never say that, and Ilya was already dancing on the edge of ruining this. 

Hayes snickers and turns to enter the locker room.

“Ilya…”

“Shane.”

“Please don’t ruin this for us,” Shane says, his eyes pleading.

“Have a little fun, moy tsvetok,” Ilya replies, the Russian purring from his lips. “When else are you going to be me?”

“I had hoped never,” Shane grumbles, moving to the cubbies with their jerseys. He sets his bag down in front of the Hollander one, before then dropping his face in realization. God, this was going to fuck with his head. Ilya rubbed his back and they switched sides, and they reluctantly put on each other’s gear.

They had put on their pants and the jerseys, the C now pressed against Shane’s chest. It was weird seeing it on his body again. As much as he hated seeing Ilya with it and not being able to call plays, now having it on his jersey–granted, not his own–it made him feel weird. Like he didn’t actually deserve it, at least, not for this reason. 

Shane was torn from his thoughts when he saw Ilya plop down hard on the bench to put on his skates, but his face curled up. Shane raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Ilya said, wincing.

“You don’t seem fine.”

Ilya scanned the room and then turned to Shane, his voice low so only Shane could hear him. “Is nothing. Your ass hurts.”

Shane felt a laugh coming up his throat. He did his best to stifle it. He guessed he should have seen that coming, and was a little surprised it was only now that Ilya noticed.

“Shane,” Ilya said, a seriousness in his voice. “Do you do this on purpose?”

“Do what?” Shane teased, a knowing smirk creeping up his lips. 

“You slut,” Ilya replies, the word burning a hole through Shane. God, Shane got so hot when he said that to him. Even though hearing it from his own mouth was so foreign to him, the effect was always the same. “You like feeling it days after I fuck you.” 

Shane said nothing in response to Ilya’s claim, choosing to neither confirm nor deny. “C’mon Hollander, we got a game to win.”

Saying his own name made him dizzy, but it wasn’t like he wasn’t already since this morning. 

“Yes, Captain.”

The game could have gone worse. It was already halfway through the second period, and Ottawa had already scored 2 goals, courtesy of Ilya. Though, if you asked anybody else in that stadium, it would be Shane’s goals. 

Shane wondered how Ilya felt about hearing people praise Shane for the goals when it was Ilya who made them. Shane wondered if it fucked with his head as much as people calling him Rozanov did. 

They had split up their time on the ice, figuring that if they both had equal playing time, then the likelihood of their body swap getting in the way of their playing was minimal. 

It was 2-1 Ottawa when another face-off was made. Shane had taken the first few, and now he let Ilya jump in against Scott Hunter. Shane watched from the bench as they leaned down. Watching his own body against Hunter was definitely different, especially now that he could see his ass so prominently against the fabric. 

“Think you can catch up?” Ilya asked Scott, scanning his face. “I can still make this a hat-trick.”

“In your dreams, Hollander,” Hunter replied. 

“No, but definitely in yours,” Ilya chirped. 

Scott’s eyebrow went up, and Ilya reveled in his confusion. Ilya had successfully thrown Scott Hunter off, and when the puck dropped, Ilya won the face-off.

Ilya’s smile went wide as he skated around the Admirals. Though he hated to admit it, Shane was a faster skater than Ilya. Being in his body meant he could whip around players easily, and before he could even register it, he took a shot on goal, it sinking right between the goalie’s legs.

“Hollander scores a hat-trick within the second period!” 

Rozanov scores, he added in his mind. But he couldn’t complain, he could live with Shane getting the credit for his goals.

Ilya skated towards the bench, stopping right in front of Shane, and he beamed at him. “Maybe you should just let me be a one man team. I’m single-handedly carrying this game.”

“Come off it, Hollander!” he heard one of his teammates shout. 

“Aw, somebody is jealous!” Ilya responded in their direction, turning back to Shane, whose eyes were wide. Ilya could easily read the message behind them. Please stop. 

But why would Ilya? He was having some of the most fun he’s ever had. Maybe switching bodies was the best thing that happened to him. Besides meeting Shane, and adopting Anya, of course. 

In the back of his mind, though, he did notice how strange it was to not be in control. Ilya could see why Shane was frustrated at his position on the Centaurs. It took Ilya a moment to adjust that he no longer could take charge of how the game was going to go outside his position on the ice.

The rest of the game had gone as smoothly as it could given their circumstances. Shane had managed to score a goal within the last minute, finalizing the score at 4-3. 

Ilya kissed his own cheek when the horn blew to end the game. “Beautiful goal, moya lyubov.”

Ilya saw Shane blush again, and he looked to the ground to stop himself from making it obvious. 

Shane had remained mostly quiet during the game. He really only spoke to make plays, since Ilya was the Captain, after all. Ilya figured it was to try to avoid saying anything out of character for Ilya. Ilya, on the other hand, thought chirping in Shane’s body was the highlight of the game. 

Neither of them missed how their teammates and competitors looked at them though. It did not go unnoticed that Shane and Ilya were not acting like themselves, not that any of them said anything about it.

Nobody except Scott Hunter.

They lined up for handshakes, making their way down the line. Ilya, riding on a high, was chirping at everyone. 

He smiled bright at Scott, grasping his hand. “I hope the old age isn’t getting to you, Hunter.”

“Jesus, Hollander. You’re sounding more and more like Rozanov every game.”

“Perks of marrying the best in the league,” Ilya replied, letting Scott’s hand drop between them.

Ilya got to the end of the line and turned to watch Shane shake Scott’s hand, and Shane, of course, did not say anything to him. It looked like Scott had tried to say something, but Shane did not respond, instead choosing to ignore it. Ilya smirked at the befuddled face on Hunter. He wondered what Scott Hunter was thinking about the two of them. 

The Centaurs all gathered at the doors by the rink and each walked into the locker room, pounding Shane’s hand in victory. Ilya was the last one, leaning in and whispering low. “Good game, Captain.”

He pat his back and headed for the locker room, immediately removing his helmet. 

“So, when do I get my promotion?” Ilya asked to the locker room. The Centaurs either chuckled or grumbled at the confidence beaming off of Shane’s body. 

They undressed easily, throwing their dirty jerseys in the laundry bag. Shane had decided not to get a shower with everybody in the locker room, much preferring to get one at home. Ilya followed his lead, throwing on a shirt and sweats.

They shook their teammates' hands and said goodbye to Coach Wiebe before heading out to their car.

“Did you have to chirp so much?” Shane said as they got into the car.

“Why, is there a problem?” Ilya sat down, groaning again at the soreness in his lower back and ass. 

“Uh, yeah. I mean, everybody was staring at us,” Shane replied, shutting his door.

“Everybody always stares at us. Hockey husbands, remember?” Ilya said, turning on the car.

Shane rolled his eyes. “You know what I meant. I don’t shit talk like that, or gloat.”

“Is fun,” Ilya shifted into drive. “I liked confusing people.”

“But it’s not me,” Shane responded, huffing. 

“One game of chirping is not going to make people that suspicious. It’s fun to let go,” Ilya said, driving onto the highway.

“Scott Hunter was,” Shane added.

“Hunter has bigger things to worry about than Shane Hollander being cocky to him.”

They fell silent for a few minutes, letting the radio play softly.

Shane bit his lip. “Do you think anyone will catch on tonight, during the interviews?”

Ilya hummed. “I doubt it. Everybody will be too drunk or focused on other things to notice.”

“Can you please not, like, be an asshole tonight?” Shane asked, looking at Ilya from the passenger seat.

“What do you mean? I am always on my best behavior,” Ilya replied, smirking at his husband.

“I mean, during the interviews. Can you not, like…” he trails off, trying to find the words.

“Be myself?” Ilya fills in.

“I mean, yeah,” Shane says, a sigh coming from his mouth. “Cause you’re me. Can you answer questions as me?”

“Can you answer questions as me?” Ilya posed. And then silence fell on them again. 

How were they supposed to be each other? The game was different, since they both play in a similar way and could mimic each other on the ice. But actually acting like the other in front of people and cameras? That was different.

“I guess we’ll find out,” Shane said finally. 

They both thought about how they could go about the events tonight in separate bodies, and if it was even possible to pretend to be somebody else. In truth, Shane had no idea what it was like to be Ilya, and Ilya had no idea what it was like to be Shane.

And tonight, they both had to step into each other’s shoes, and maybe learn more about the other than they ever thought they would.

That thought terrified the both of them, but neither one wanted to admit it.

The clock was ticking on both of their watches. Each second passed by like two, moving faster towards the inevitable challenge of playing each other like actors in a film.

They dressed in silence, pulling out their designated outfits from the closet. Shane’s designer was nice enough to also design an outfit for Ilya. The only downside was now the other was wearing the outfit meant for them. 

Ilya kept stealing glances at his body, the clothing fitting around his ass and tight shoulders. He had to admit that he was attractive, and would absolutely like to sleep with himself if Shane allowed him. 

He had hoped, secretly, that Shane would at least once let him get a taste of himself, apart from a kiss. Ilya wanted to see the way his ass bounced against him. He wanted to stroke himself with a different set of hands. He was curious to see the way his face curled in orgasm. A mirror or facetime window can only show so much. He knew he had to be a sight to behold. Shane certainly was, and he loved the way Shane flushed underneath him. 

Ilya helped Shane tie the tie meant for Ilya’s body. Shane’s stylist tailored a boring black suit for Ilya, giving him a Tiffany and Co brooch to add detail to the jacket. They also had plans to do Ilya’s hair in an 80s American style when they got to the venue. Other than that, there wasn’t anything too extraordinary about Ilya’s outfit. Ilya did think that it worked for him though, finding his body looking rather nice in the black satin.

Shane, on the other hand, had a much more fashionable outfit. He had a white blouse, which was covered by a white band over his waist, punctuating his upper chest. His bottoms were simple black dress pants that flowed easy around his black leather boots. The entire outfit was finished with a golden snake necklace and a white jacket. Shane’s designer had gone all out, certainly a lot more chic and risque than Shane has worn in the past. Shane had been nervous at first when she sent him the full suit a few weeks ago. 

Ilya looked at Shane’s body in the mirror. God, his husband was a vision. He looked hot. He brought his hand over Shane’s chest and palmed his ass through the fabric. 

He caught Shane staring at him from Ilya’s body. “You like what you see, Hollander?”

Shane blushed again, shaking his head and pulling his eyes away. “Nope.”

“You are sexy, there is no shame in that,” Ilya said, adding reassurance to ensure Shane knew that he could like this, that there was nothing wrong with it. 

“We’re going to be late,” Shane replied to avoid the comment. Ilya blew his second raspberry in Shane’s body. 

Shane let out a chuckle at his husband and began to walk out the door, Anya greeting him halfway and wagging her tail.

There was one thing about this situation that did annoy Ilya. Because they switched bodies, Anya was often finding herself curling up to Shane more. Since Ilya had adopted her and spoiled her rotten, she had associated Ilya as her first Dad, therefore being the favorite owner. She had grown to know his scent apart from anyone, even Shane. Which meant that since Shane is in Ilya’s body, Shane got most of her attention. Poor Anya had no idea that her first Dad was in her spare Dad’s body. He would pull her in for cuddles, but she would shift so she was closer to Shane than Ilya.

Ilya had pouted at his dog daughter avoiding him, not used to being chosen second by her. Not that she didn’t also love Shane. He was her Dad too, of course. But Ilya had always slipped her scraps from the table, bought her more toys, played tug of war with her (and letting her win), and gave her lots of kisses. 

Shane saw Ilya’s frown at her following Shane to the door. “She still loves you. You are her Dad.”

“She doesn’t know that,” Ilya said, kneeling down to fluff her ears. “She doesn’t know that I miss her and she’s right here.”

“I’m sure she will figure it out,” Shane replied, hopefully. “Or we’ll switch back and you can give her all the love you always do.”

Shane patted her head while Ilya scratched her ears. She closed her eyes at the attention.

“Bye, my sweet girl,” Ilya whispered, giving her a kiss on her cheek. She lightly licked Ilya’s nose in retaliation. They waved at her as they shut the door, making sure she had food and water before they left.

They decided to take one of Ilya’s fancy cars tonight, since this was a bigger event. Ilya beamed when Shane said they could take a sports car, and Shane had made a comment to not let it get to his head. 

Ilya drove, Shane being too scared to be put behind the wheel. Shane thought that if they did manage to get papped that everyone would be super confused on why ‘Shane’ was driving one of Ilya’s cars. He could see the headlines now. He rolled down the window so he didn’t get sick at the thought. 

Ilya reached over and held one of Shane’s hands, bringing it to his lips to kiss. “We can do this, moya svecha.”

“I don’t know that one,” Shane said, leaning back against the headrest.

“My candle,” Ilya answered, rubbing Shane’s knuckles. 

“Mm. What kind?” Shane asked, trying to distract them from the impending obstacles ahead of them. 

“Lavender and Sage,” Ilya replied, hoping a nicer answer was better than one that would cause Shane to get flustered. Shane said nothing, watching the road ahead of them as they drove.

Ilya kept glancing over at Shane every now and then to gauge his reaction, but Shane’s face was set firmly neutral the entire time. Perhaps it was a tactic he was doing on purpose to try to get into Ilya’s character. It was actually kind of working. 

They pulled into the venue, driving by fans and paparazzi waiting for certain celebrities to pass them and get autographs. Ilya would normally love to greet them, but in the state that they are in, it may be best to avoid them altogether.

“Are you ready?” Ilya asked once he put the car in park. 

“No,” Shane replied, mimicking their exchange earlier before the Admirals game. 

“It will be okay.”

Ilya got out of the car, shutting his door and opening Shane’s. “Such a gentleman.”

“I do try,” Ilya smirked. 

They held hands as they walked into the building. Shane could hear paparazzi calling out to them from the side, trying to get them to look at the cameras to get photos. Shane and Ilya kept their heads straight ahead, not wanting to give the paps any candids of them.

They barely got inside the venue before they were hauled away from each other. Ilya was dragged to get an interview started, and Shane was pulled to get his hair styled. They gave each other one last glance before heading to their respective places.

For the first time since they woke up that morning, they were alone in each other’s bodies. Which meant they could do anything they wanted. It was now up to them to rely on themselves to make it through their jobs for the night.

Ilya was taken to a makeshift red carpet, with paparazzi calling out to each movie star, fashion designer, and more that stepped onto the floor. 

He heard Shane’s name being called and took a breath. He looked at himself through a dark window and saw how pent up Shane’s body was with all the buttons. He realized that he had the chance to one, make Shane look hotter, which would certainly make people go crazy, and prime the jealousy in him that he always used to his advantage, and two, to mess with Shane. Just because he had to act like Shane didn’t mean he couldn’t also play around with him. How many chances does anyone get to be your partner? Ilya was always a tease, and he liked how Shane got when he threw him off his guard. 

Ilya unbuttoned a few buttons, letting the white satin shirt expose the top of his pectorals. Shane was always a goodie tooshoes, and had this image of being a poised and proper man. Ilya wanted to ruffle that image, at least for a night. He knew he would get a rise out of Shane, and the media. 

He smiled wide, walking with purpose out onto the carpet, Shane’s name being shouted across the length. He put his hands in his pockets, turning his head and giving mug shots. He did his best to display a confidence that Shane didn’t always show. Ilya knew Shane had it, especially alone with him, but in public, it was hard for Shane to express. Maybe if Ilya could mimic that confidence in his body now, Shane could see the photos later and see how hot he could be if he let that confidence slip publicly. 

Ilya waved at a few paps in the back, and finished crossing the carpet of cameras. He finished one set of the carpet only to be met with the interviews of the next. He was motioned over to a Variety reporter, and gave a smile as the interview began.

It was, for the most part, a great interview. It turns out it wasn’t hard to answer the questions as Shane. Most of the questions were how Shane likes being on the Centaurs and if he regrets leaving the Voyageurs. Ilya already knew how Shane felt about both, and answered as honestly as he could without being disrespectful to either team, as much as he wanted to dunk on the Voyageurs for how they treated Shane. 

Nobody publicly knew how the Voyageurs treated Shane when they were outed, and so to drop that information on a busy red carpet would start a scandal on the internet that Ilya would never hear the end of from Shane, or Farah. He had already stirred the pot to some degree, he didn’t need to boil it over, as fun as it would be. He would love to see the look on Hayden Pike’s face as his team was run into the ground.

The last question had thrown Ilya for a loop, however.

“Now I have to ask,” the interviewer started. “How does it feel to be an Asian player in the NHL? Do you find yourself along the lines of Serena Williams and Tiger Woods? Do you think the NHL is trying to be more inclusive?”

Ilya was stunned. He had never been asked anything like this before. He knew that Shane had sometimes been asked about being compared to people like Serena Williams, but here and now, it made Ilya surprised and stopped in his tracks.

Why were those questions relevant? Shane was a phenomenal player, and being Asian had nothing to do with his hockey. This felt like a question planted solely to put Shane on the spot. It wasn’t fair to ask this, and there were also better ways to ask. 

And then it hit Ilya. Is this a normal occurrence for Shane? To be profiled for his race? Shane had never talked to Ilya about it before. He never would have guessed that Shane had this happen on the daily. He never realized that one of the weights Shane carries is the backwards way of thinking that society has when it comes to different races. And Ilya, being a white man, never would be asked questions like this, because people already assume he works hard because he is white. 

“Uhh…” Ilya says, trying to come up with the right words. He looks over his shoulder, trying to find an out, and the universe grants it for him. 

A loud cheer started from behind him at the red carpet. A big celebrity that nobody was sure was coming came, and there was major chatter that started. The Variety cameraman pulled away from Ilya towards the celebrity. Ilya took that as a sign to leave and kindly bid the interviewer a farewell, stepping away.

Ilya knew he could have answered the question, at least to say that his hockey has never changed, but Ilya knew he couldn’t speak on Shane’s behalf, at least, not for that. He knew it wasn’t his place to try to answer a question like that. He would never talk over Shane or try to speak for him. In truth, he didn’t even know that those questions were a possibility, and it made Ilya’s heart beat a little harder for the man he loved. 

Ilya did a few more short interviews, luckily only simple 2 minute ones, and most of them were asking how he likes being at a big event like this, and how different it must be than doing panels and after-game interviews with reporters. These were definitely a lot more fun and less serious than the Variety one. He even got to do a shot with one of the interviewers. In another one he got to eat a cookie made by the cameraman. He hoped Shane would forgive him for eating a cookie in his body.

He met back up with Shane a few minutes before the awards ceremony started. The hairstylist had taken their job with a seriousness he had never seen before. His hair was almost completely straight except for the curls at the ends. It took Ilya aback. He thought for sure that Shane had to be wearing a wig, but he could tell from the golden rays that illuminated from the strands that it was his real hair. 

He whistled at Shane, and Shane rolled his eyes as he walked over to him.

“Tell me your interviews were as miserable as mine were,” Shane said under his breath.

“Mmm, no,” Ilya admitted. “Mine were fun.”

“It’s so weird answering for you. I felt like I stuttered for most of my answers. How am I supposed to be professional and cocky like you?” Shane asked, putting his hands in his pockets. 

“Is a trick,” Ilya winked. Shane inhaled. 

Shane brought his eyes to Ilya’s open shirt on his chest. Shane glared at Ilya. “What is that?”

“What is what?”

“Your shirt. My shirt.”

“You like? I think it adds sex appeal. I definitely caught a bunch of eyes on the carpet,” Ilya smirked at him, his teeth protruding behind his lips.

“I cannot believe you slutted me out on the carpet,” Shane said, a hint of frustration but also enthusiasm in his voice.

“You can’t?” Ilya asked, not believing Shane for a moment.

Shane gave him another glare, this one wrapped in a more positive, teasing tone. “Maybe I can.”

Ilya chuckled and wrapped a hand around Shane’s waist, letting some single paps take photos as they walked into the auditorium. 

Shane let out a giant breath once they sat down, like half the battle was over and now he was able to let out some of the tension in his body.

Ilya rubbed the back of his neck, hoping to relieve some of the stress, and also to let him know, silently, that he was there and always will be. That he was not doing this alone.

They were presenting their award about halfway through the show. That gave them at least an hour to wind down before they had to put on their facade again. 

Ilya watched Shane tap his foot with anxiety. He wished he could help Shane more, but there was only so much he could do while surrounded by cameras, celebrities, and fellow peers. 

The time came for them to present. A security guard had come to escort them backstage. Shane took a big breath in again, and walked hesitantly with Ilya to the prep room.

They were handed scripts to read, but they were told there would also be a teleprompter if they forgot their lines. They read the bit, looking at each other with a nervousness because they were only used to this skit while playing their own parts. Now they had to act a skit out in the opposite body of who they were supposed to. That was the biggest challenge of them all. 

It was a simple skit, it was similar to the one they did back in Vegas for the NHL awards. They were supposed to make a joke about how they took sportsmanship a little too seriously, and now they were married. It was an easy enough skit. What made it hard is now that they were in each other’s bodies, the body language of their personas would be flipped. 

Ilya saw Shane’s face curl in fear, and Ilya looked around the room before bringing him in for a kiss. 

“It’s okay,” Ilya mumbled against his lips. “You’re with me.”

Shane broke away and pressed his head to Ilya’s. “I know.”

They were interrupted by a producer, who started to shuffle them out to the hallway and behind the curtain. 

They heard music play, and an announcer over the loudspeaker boomed. “From hockey rivals to one of the most pronounced husbands in our day and age, please welcome Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov!”

Ilya and Shane both took a deep breath, walking in turn. Ilya could hear the song playing over the speaker. All The Things She Said by t. A. T. u. Funny choice, Ilya thought. 

Claps erupted as they stepped onto the stage. Ilya walked confidently to the microphones, but noticed quickly that Shane was not right next to him. He turned around and saw him staring out at the crowd. He ran back to grab his waist and walk towards the mics together. He didn’t miss the way Shane swallowed. Seeing his own body display so much fright was interesting. He never knew he could portray such emotion on his face.

Ilya cleared his throat. “Hi!”

People cheered from the audience. 

Ilya glanced at Shane, who was supposed to start the skit. 

Shane swallowed again. Bringing his one hand to cup the microphone. “Wow. This is a different crowd than what we’re used to.” 

“Yes,” Ilya replied. “Everybody is dressed nicer, and less jackets for the cold arenas.” 

A few laughs from the audience.

“Also different audience,” Shane said. “I think we took the sportsmanship award years ago a little too seriously.”

More laughter erupted in the auditorium.

Ilya patted Shane on the back, hard. Shane’s cheeks started to gain color. “I think when they said to be friendly with each other, they did not expect us to exchange rings.”  

Cheers came from the audience. Ilya could see in the TVs at the sides of the stage showing slides from their wedding, ending with shots of their hands with the rings on them. 

They exchanged a few more lines, and then started to announce the nominees for Outstanding Documentary. This part was easy. They didn’t have to pretend for this part.

“And the winner goes to…”

They announced the winner together, in sync. Claps boomed all around them. Ilya handed the award to the director that won, giving them a congratulations.

As the speech went on, they silently left the stage.

Ilya could see Shane start hyperventilating. 

Ilya quickly scanned the hallway to make sure they were alone and then brought him down to sit. “Hey, it’s okay. We did it. It’s okay.”

Shane nodded, but his breath was still quick.

“You did great,” Ilya rubbed his shoulder. Shane did not look convinced.

“We can leave now, yes?” Ilya asked, and Shane looked at him with hopeful eyes. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, let’s get the fuck out of here,” Ilya confirmed, smiling at him. Shane looked at him with so much adoration in his eyes, like he couldn’t believe that Ilya, even in his body, could be so kind and caring of him. 

They snuck out a side door, avoiding more paparazzi and fans as they made it to their car. They got in and took a breath.

“God, that fucking sucked,” Ilya said. Shane only laughed, as if the disbelief finally left his body. 

“Oh, my god, that was awful!” Shane exclaimed, and Ilya hummed in agreement, immediately turning on the car and driving away.

They didn’t feel secure enough until they shut the door to their house, finally confined to a single building that only they knew. 

Anya greeted them, wagging her tail and bringing them a toy, squeaking it. They each gave her kisses and took her out to pee before getting ready for bed.

They made it to their room and undressed carefully, not wanting to ruin the beautiful, tailored clothing. 

Ilya stared at Shane, removing his last bit of clothing, folding it properly, and setting it on the dresser.

“What a fucking day, huh?” Ilya asked.

Shane huffed. “And let’s hope it never happens again.”

Shane got under the covers, desperate to go to sleep and hopefully wake from this nightmare.

“Oh, you didn’t have at least a little bit of fun?” Ilya questioned, crawling in next to him, turning out their side lamp.

“No, this was awful. I hate being in your body,” Shane answered, turning away from Ilya.

“But you love me,” Ilya said, curling up and wrapping him in a spoon.

“Debatable after today,” Shane mumbled, the comment laced with a tease.

They were quiet for a few moments. Just enjoying the warmth of being together, being in a familiar place and a familiar position. 

Ilya decided to test the waters, seeing how far Shane would want to take this day, if he wanted to. He ran his hand down Shane’s body, cupping Shane’s ass.

“Ilya,” Shane warned.

“Shane,” Ilya said against his shoulder.

“No,” Shane told him. “I…I don’t think I can.”

Ilya groaned into his skin. “Are you not curious?”

“I…” he trailed off, his face becoming red once more. This has got to be a record for how many times Ilya has made Shane blush today. “I am, I just…”

He sighed, moving to lay on his back. “Too much has happened today. I can’t even think about sex right now. Everything is so twisted and fucked and I don’t want to add sleeping with my own body to the list. It’s just something I don’t want to try right now.”

Ilya let that sink in for a moment. He supposed Shane did have a point. There was a lot that had happened today, and Ilya trying to make an advance could be pushing Shane over an edge he wasn’t comfortable with. Ilya would never push Shane to do something if it was truly something that Shane did not want. Ilya did stay hopeful though, because it didn’t sound like a definitive no if this somehow wasn’t fixed.

“Okay,” he said after a moment. 

Shane met his eyes, a sincerity in them. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Ilya said, leaning up to kiss him. “It has been a crazy day.”

They fell into another bit of silence. The only sound in the room being their breathing.

“Do you think we will wake up tomorrow and this will all be over?” Shane whispered.

Ilya kissed his shoulder. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. 

Shane nodded slightly, like he knew that was the answer all along. 

They fell asleep how they almost always did: in each other’s arms, thinking about the day they may face ahead of them.

Chapter End Notes

Welcome back! Enjoy chapter 2! Chapter 3 will be coming in a few days. I work 3 days in a row, so expect the last part to be around Wednesday or Thursday! Have a lovely rest of your weekend <3

Chapter 3

Chapter Notes

Just like before, Shane woke up first. He took in a deep breath and took in the few precious moments of bliss, the perfect peace that existed between sleep and consciousness. He could feel Ilya breathing against his neck, the warmth of the bedsheets covering them, the cool air of the room blowing on his face. It was a perfect moment of harmony, where nothing could ever touch them and ruin the moment. 

Shane reveled in this feeling for as long as he could, until reality finally reared its head, and came over him once again. 

He lifted his hand up towards his face, and saw Ilya’s moles on his arm, pecked all across the skin. He inhaled sharply, closing his eyes in realization.

He was still in Ilya’s body. This was not some cruel dream he had been waiting to wake up from, this was real. Which meant that this would be more of a problem than he had anticipated. If this was not a one day occurrence, or a dream, then how could they switch back? What could have possibly caused this? And if there was no way to change back into their bodies, what would that mean for their future?

Shane swallowed, turning to see Ilya still sleeping soundly. Shane could see the way his eyes fluttered in his sleep. He wondered if they always did that as he dreamed, or if this was Ilya encompassing his body. Whatever the case may be, Shane did have to admit, he was beautiful.

He could see why Ilya would find Shane attractive. He did have wonderful features. The freckles painted across his cheeks and nose perfectly accented his face, adding a piece to him that brought out the other parts in a wonderful polyphony. Shane never got to appreciate them before, only seeing them in his reflection. But seeing them now, so close up, he understands why Ilya is so enthralled with them. 

Shane brought his fingers to his face, and gently grazed his thumb over the freckles, careful not to wake Ilya. He failed.

Ilya inhaled deeply, now living in his own moment of peace between sleep and being awake. He subconsciously brought Shane closer to him, moving his hands to his waist to rest perfectly in the curve between his chest and his ass.

“Good morning,” Shane said quietly.

Ilya moaned in response. “‘Morning.”

Ilya opened his eyes, and was met with his own face. “I see we are still in our little… What is the word? Like, problem?”

“Predicament?” Shane offered, and Ilya pressed his lips together.

“Yes, I think so,” he thought, trying to define the word in his head. “That.”

“Guess it wasn’t just a bad dream,” Shane said, disappointment cloaking his words.

“Mm, not a bad dream for me. I kinda like being you,” Ilya teased, curling his lips into a smirk. “Maybe I do not want to switch back.”

Shane shoved him playfully on the shoulder, and Ilya mocked being painful. “Such an asshole.”

“You love it,” Ilya teased again, leaning in closer to Shane. “Can I have a kiss?”

Shane could never not give Ilya what he wants, it was a flaw of his that he always struggled to subdue. He leaned in and pressed his lips to Ilya’s. 

Ilya reached up a hand to cup Shane’s face and deepened it, trying to pour his love into it, as if trying to show Shane that even with this change, the love they had for the other transcends the hardship. 

Shane broke away after a few minutes to catch his breath, and Ilya leaned into Shane’s neck to kiss across the skin. Shane allowed it only for a moment, not wanting to give Ilya too much indulgence that he was okay to fool around. He couldn’t think about doing that just yet. Shane wasn’t ready.  “We have to feed Anya.”

Ilya immediately paused what he was doing to sit up on the bed. He scanned Shane’s face and pouted. “Okay. Princess must come first.”

Shane chuckled and got out of the bed, throwing on a shirt and sweatpants to make himself comfortable. Ilya followed his lead, staring at Shane as he put on his clothes.

Anya lifted her head from her dog bed in the corner as she saw her dads getting up. She grabbed her little deer toy and squeaked it at them, a gesture to tell them good morning. 

Ilya leaned down to her and patted her head. “Good morning, precious.”

Ilya picked her up, and she looked over at Shane, her nose twisting back and forth while she sniffed the air. Shane could never get enough of the sight of his husband and their dog. Ilya always took good care of her, and Shane knew he would be such a wonderful father of children. Once they figured this body-switching thing out, Shane wanted to have a child with Ilya. If they ever switched back, Shane wanted to bring it up one more time. He could feel that day getting closer, even as he stood stuck in Ilya’s body.

Ilya opened the porch door and set Anya down. She went running into the backyard, barking at the birds that landed in the corner of the grass. Shane watched her from the window to make sure she did not get hurt, and fixed up her breakfast.

He set it down neatly by her water bowl, knowing she would want it immediately once she was done outside. Once he finished with Anya’s food, he started on breakfast for himself and Ilya.

Shane broke open some eggs on the stove, and put some bread in the toaster. He set the coffee machine to brew now and grabbed their mugs from the cupboard. 

Ilya came up behind him and hugged him, kissing his neck. “I like my eggs to leak out, you know this, yes?”

Shane smiled and rolled his eyes. “Yes, Ilya. I know you like them overeasy.”

“I like you overeasy, too,” Ilya said against his neck. “And you always have been overeasy.”

“Wow, way to tell me I was an easy target,” Shane teased. 

“You wanted to be,” Ilya relayed, squeezing his waist and kissing his cheek. 

Shane heard the toaster pop up and turned to look at Ilya. “Your toast is going to get cold.”

Ilya hummed and reluctantly broke away. He put the bread on a plate, and then walked over to the porch door where Anya was pawing at it to be let inside. She wasted no time in going to her bowl.

Shane finished the eggs and put them on two plates, sliding Ilya’s over to him on the bartop. 

They both sat down and ate in silence, taking in the food, and pondering on the day ahead of them. Yesterday, they had a full schedule, which is why their whole freaky Friday swap was a cause for concern. At least today, they did not have anything on the books. They could try to figure this out in the privacy of their home.

What they didn’t know, however, was that there was a surprise waiting for them. Completely and utterly overlooked in the chaos of the previous day. Their doorbell rang. 

Shane looked over at Ilya as he swallowed a bite of eggs. He raised an eyebrow. “Did you invite anyone over?”

Ilya shook his head, licking his finger. “No?” 

Shane blinked in confusion and got off of his chair. Anya raced to the door, Shane immediately following suit.

He saw the silhouette of a man from the patterned window. He opened the door and was immediately met with… JJ. Boiziau. His old teammate.

“Rozanov,” he said, a polite, but also brisk tone underlying the name. JJ may accept Ilya as Shane’s husband, but it didn’t mean he was ever happy about it.\

“JJ?” Shane asked, his eyes widening. He looked down and suddenly remembered very clearly that he was in Ilya’s body. In front of his friend. Shane started to get dizzy like yesterday all over again. “What are you doing here?”

“What, did you hit your head in the game with Hunter yesterday?” JJ asked, his face twisted in humor. “It’s Hayden’s birthday, man! You and Shane said we would have a party for him here.”

Oh, fuck. 

It all came rushing back to Shane now. Last week, JJ asked Shane to host a party for Hayden, since he had a bigger house and nicer view, with a BBQ in the backyard, and they were going to be in town a few days longer after their game against each other because Montreal had a bye week. Shane had agreed, thinking it would be a nice way to get Ilya to bond with his friends.

JJ was going to come early to start the BBQ and set up drinks. Hayden was going to come later after picking up Jackie and the kids from the airport. And, to top it all off from there, Shane’s parents said they were going to come to see the kids.

Almost all of Shane’s friends and family were going to be at his house today. 

And every one of them is going to think he is Ilya Rozanov. 

Fuck. 

“Uh, hello? Rozanov?” JJ said, snapping Shane out of his head. “You really did hit your head, or?”

Shane coughed, as if to casually brush off his surprise. “‘Course not. I’m too careful.”

JJ reached out and rubbed his shoulder. “Rozanov. You are never careful on the ice, man. You’re a tsunami, brother.”

Shane chuckled awkwardly, and stepped away to let JJ walk inside, a cooler in each hand. 

Shane shuffled behind him as he made his way to the kitchen. Ilya sat up from his chair, immediately eyeing Shane from across the room.

Shane shrugged, panic rising on his face. A silent conversation had begun between them.

You let him in?

What was I supposed to do? 

Can you get rid of him?

No, I am not rude.

“Hollander, motherfucker!” JJ shouted after he put the coolers down. He reached out and gave Ilya a giant hug, patting his back hard. “So sorry for kicking your ass the other day.”

“No, you’re not,” Ilya said, flicking his eyes over to Shane. Really? This your friend?

“No, not really,” JJ agreed.

JJ turned to his coolers and opened one. “Hayden just got to the airport, so he will be here in a few hours. I need to go start up your grill, okay?”

JJ looked at Ilya, who looked at Shane, and all of them were just awkwardly staring at each other. 

“You go ahead,” Shane said, gesturing to the porch door. “You know where it is?”

“Shane never changes where anything is,” JJ teased. “Of course I know where it is.”

Anya sniffed at JJ and the fresh hamburger meat and hot dogs as he opened the porch door. Anya followed him out, hoping to get a snack, even after her full breakfast.

“Shane, what the fuck?” Ilya said as soon as the door closed behind him. 

“I totally forgot that we agreed to host a party for Hayden’s birthday,” Shane admitted. “He just showed up. I had no idea.”

“Hayden? Hayden Pike?” Ilya asked, as if there was magically another Hayden in their lives. 

“Yes, that would be the one, Ilya,” Shane confirmed. 

“I have to pretend to be you and be best friends with Hayden fucking Pike?” Ilya prompted, a look of horror on his face.

“He’s not so bad,” Shane tried. “Be nice. Be… Me.”

Ilya mumbled something in Russian. Shane was sure it was a litany of curses. 

“Who else is coming?” Ilya asked.

“Just JJ and Hayden,” Shane started, pausing for Ilya’s reaction. “And Jackie, and the kids.”

Ilya’s eyes widened, but of course Shane was not done. “And my parents.”

“Bozhe moy,” Ilya said, rubbing his nose. “Is there a way to cancel?”

“No, Ilya, that’s rude!” Shane replied, huffing a sigh. “We just… We just have to play the part. Again.”

“I think I hate this game,” Ilya said, defeated, pointing between the two of them.

“At least that makes two of us now.”

Shane’s phone rang on the counter. Shane looked over at it and saw it was his mother calling. 

In all honesty, Ilya should have just let Shane handle it, even in his body. But, if he had to pretend to be friends with two of the fucking Voyageurs, the least he could do is have a little fun.

He swiped the phone away from Shane as he picked it up. 

“Ilya!” he yelled, reaching for the phone. “What are you doing?”

“Being you,” Ilya said, reaching to slide the bar to answer the call. “And my parents are calling. I need to be a good son.”

Shane’s eyes widened and pleaded for Ilya to not fuck something up.

Ilya pressed the phone to his ear. “Hello?” 

Yuna immediately started bombarding him with questions about the party. Ilya did his best to answer them.

“Yes, we have condiments. And relish. And onions, and lettuce. Yes, there is plenty of beer. No, we do not have wine. We are running a little low on snacks.”

Shane stared at Ilya for so long throughout the call, Ilya thought he might burn a hole through him. Ilya smirked at him, blowing him a kiss.

The phone call was almost over, and Ilya had gotten through the whole thing without blowing any cover for both of them. Shane started to take a breath in relief. But then Yuna asked if there was anything special they could bring, and Ilya perked up.

“Yes, can you ask Dad to please make that extra cheesy, bacon, ranch mac and cheese? Ilya and Hayden love it. And I think it’s time I try some. Please smother it with everything you can. It is a special day,” Ilya said, his smile bright and excited.

The look Shane gave Ilya would have killed him 3 times over if it could. Shane’s parents knew that Shane was still working on his diet, and would occasionally eat more fatty things to balance out the healthy side. But Ilya specifically asking for such a hearty dish was so out of character for Shane. And Ilya knew it. He winked at him, giving him a look of Well, how would they know?

Yuna sounded surprised at Ilya’s request coming from Shane’s mouth, but she didn’t say no. “Gosh, Shane, I didn’t know you were letting loose today.”

“Yeah,” Ilya said. “I thought I would give myself a break.”

“A break?” she asked. “Since when do you take breaks, Shane?”

“Call it a…” Ilya paused. “A recent development.”

Yuna sounded confused, but she didn’t say anything to combat what Ilya was saying. Instead, she agreed to bring the mac and cheese and said she would see them in a few hours.

“See you,” Ilya said, a sing-songy tone coating the words. He heard Yuna say goodbye and hung up the phone.

“I’m going to kill you,” Shane said. 

“Is nothing, Shane,” Ilya replied, an innocent smile forming on his face.

Shane opened his mouth to reprimand Ilya, but was cut off by the sound of the sliding door opening. JJ came in to grab some utensils to flip the burgers, and a beer to let some nerves loosen up.

This was going to be a very long day. 

Anya barked at the doorbell the second time it rang that day. Ilya opened the door and greeted Ruby and Jade, who both squealed in excitement at seeing Shane, and even more so at seeing Anya.

Anya sniffed the little girls and gave each one a kiss on the cheek, wagging her tail. Anya loved children, it was another reason Ilya found her so perfect. 

Ruby and Jade giggled and pet her fur, dropping the bags of chips they were carrying. Hayden came up behind them, telling the girls to be gentle and focus on their task.

“They’re okay,” Ilya said in their defense. “They have not seen her for a while. And you won’t get them a dog.”

Hayden groaned. “Not you too, Shane. We don’t need something else for Jackie to take care of when I’m gone.”

“We’ll do it!” Ruby and Jade said in unison. 

“Girls, I love you,” Hayden started. “You’re both 6.”

“6 and 6 makes us 12!” Jade said, pouting her lip. 

Ilya giggled at them, and reached down to ruffle her hair. “Yes, it is.”

“See? Uncle Shane said we’re 12!” Ruby announced.

“Uncle Shane is often wrong,” Hayden grumbled. “Like his choice of husband.”

Ilya snickered. Oh, Hayden was playing with fire today. Shane couldn’t possibly be mad at Ilya for what Hayden was already bringing to the table. 

“Made a better choice than if I chose you, Pike,” Ilya teased. “I would be on my 5th kid right now. You’d be slowing down my hockey.”

Hayden groaned again, leaning down to pick up the chips. “I’m not slowing down. We still beat your ass the other day.”

“Eh, a simple loss. There’s a greater gain down the line,” Ilya chirped.

Hayden narrowed his eyes at Ilya, scanning him. He knew that Shane hated losing, and to him, a loss meant game statistics changing. It threw Shane all the way off his rhythm. “You’re acting weird today, Shane.”

“What do you mean?” Ilya asked, his eyes portraying an innocence. 

Hayden said nothing, just shaking his head. “Whatever, man. I need a beer.”

Ilya moved out of the way for Hayden and the twins to walk inside. Hayden accidentally brushed against him on the way in, and the scent made Ilya scoff.

“Smells like you already had 5,” Ilya muttered under his breath. He had only partially hoped Hayden would hear him. 

Ilya caught Jackie’s eye as she lifted a few more grocery bags from the car. He saw Arthur reach out to help his mom, and Ilya’s heart skipped a beat. It made him think of his own mother, and how Ilya, even younger than Arthur was now, was desperate to help take some of the weight off her shoulders. 

Ilya walked over and immediately took 5 bags from her right hand. “Allow me.”

“Oh, Shane!” Jackie sighed in relief, her posture already improving, letting him take the bags from her. “Hello!”

“Hi, Jackie,” Ilya said. And for the first time in the last two days, he was sad that she referred to him as Shane. Ilya had always liked Jackie, and thought she was far too good for someone like Hayden. He had always been nice and respectful to her, and in turn, she had come to his defense from her husband on multiple occasions. 

“Safe flight?” Ilya asked. And she nodded, shutting the trunk to the SUV. 

“Yes, it was early, but good. Amber slept the entire time, which was a blessing,” she replied, opening the backseat door to unbuckle her from her car seat and let her jump down and run inside. Arthur followed her, disappearing into the house.

Ilya and Jackie talked a little more as they walked into the house, laying the food down on the table.

Ruby and Jade had already grabbed some of Anya’s toys and were tossing them, letting Anya, Arthur, and Amber all run after them, like a game of monkey in the middle. 

Hayden turned to Shane, opening up the fridge to grab one of the cold beers from the shelf. “Rozanov.”

Ilya watched as Shane quickly went from a look of hurt at his friend not recognizing him to remembering he has a part to play and does not get the luxury of being upset at this. “Pike.”

Ilya did feel a sense of remorse. It wasn’t fair that Shane invited his best friends over and they think he is Ilya. It was a cruel joke the universe was playing on them, and Shane didn’t deserve to be iced out by the very people he grew close to. He imagined Shane must feel lonely in Ilya’s body. 

Hayden joined JJ out on the porch, a screeching “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, FUCKER!” echoing across the house, even from the outside.

Jackie hissed a warning to JJ as he closed the door, a reminder there were children there.

Ilya chuckled, and walked over to Jackie to help her unpack the groceries for the party. “Men, am I right?”

Jackie sighed. “Not all of them. Thankfully, you’re a gentleman, Shane.”

Ilya looked over at Shane, who brought his eyes to the floor. 

“You too, Ilya,” Jackie continued, sensing the insecurity across the room. “Despite what Hayden says.”

They all smiled at each other for a moment, until it was interrupted by Amber tripping on the rug and falling on her face. She started crying.

Jackie instantly broke away and walked to her, picking her up and examining her.

Ilya had moved towards Shane, wrapping a hand over his waist. One day, that may be us.

Ilya kissed Shane’s hair, Shane leaned into the touch.

The final time the doorbell rang, Anya had been by the door. The noise startled her, and she nervously barked and screamed in fear at the same time. The kids laughed at her reaction and she ran to them to be pet.

Shane answered the door and was met with his parents, both carrying bottles of wine and pans of food. 

Jesus Christ, Ilya, Shane thought, knowing they already had way too much food for the party, and knowing it was his husband’s fault for asking for more.

Yuna and David both set the trays down and put the wine in the fridge. Yuna was the first to turn around and give Shane a big hug. “How’s my favorite son?”

Shane embraced his mom, leaning into her. He should not have felt moved at his mother hugging Ilya’s body, and her not knowing that she was hugging her son. The son she gave birth to. That his soul is trapped inside the body of another, and she does not recognize him. His own mother does not even know the challenge he is facing, and he can’t even turn to her because, like most, she would not understand. He should not have felt a sadness, but he did. His eyes started to water.

“I’m okay, Mom,” he answered, with only a trace of truth. He wasn’t.

Shane knew that his mom had given Ilya the okay to call her Mom, and while Ilya hesitated at first, he leaned into it after a while. He once told Shane that if Yuna is ‘Mom’, then Irina will be ‘Mama’. 

“That’s good, sweetheart,” Yuna said, rubbing his back and then pulling away, rubbing his face. “Shane behaving himself?”

“Always,” Shane said, blinking away his tears before she could say anything. 

Ilya came over to them, saying hello to greet Yuna.

She hugged him briefly, pushing his hair back and trying to fix his shirt to be more proper. She was Shane’s mother, and a perfectionist at heart.

David started the oven and put the trays of mac and cheese inside to let them cook more. 

All the adults gathered at the bartop and popped open their drinks of choice. 

Shane had to be careful not to open up a can of ginger ale for himself. He knew that Ilya didn’t really like ginger ale, and only drank it when he was sick. It would be strange for people to see Ilya drink something he never does in front of others. 

Shane didn’t like drinking during the season, as he was convinced the alcohol would disrupt his body enough to affect his playing. But Ilya did, and Ilya almost always had a drink during a party. 

Shane had to make a sacrifice for the greater good of keeping their secret. He also, selfishly, needed the drink in order to help steady the overwhelming loss he felt at his mother and father not recognizing him. He cracked open a beer and started to take a sip, letting the heat fall down his throat. 

The party went by a lot easier than either of them had really been expecting. It was actually pretty easy to make conversation, since most of the stories brought up were about hockey. The kids would occasionally chime in with a story of their own, but mostly it was Hayden and JJ talking about the Voyageurs without Shane and Yuna and David talking about how the Centaurs have changed since Shane and Ilya joined. 

The only part that was difficult for Shane was seeing how everyone gravitated towards Ilya, or rather, Shane’s body. Shane had always known he had his close group of friends and family, but he never really saw how tight knit everyone was, and how centered he was in it until he was seeing it in 3rd person.

Being in Ilya’s body meant all of his friends and family were now hovering over his body, not him. He felt isolated in Ilya’s body. He longed for the family he had and they were only a few feet from him.

He had never realized just how much people relied on him, and how his bubble was clearly made of so many people who loved him. 

Ilya was now being showered with the love and affection that Shane had gotten so used to having that he forgot he had it at all. 

It was this sight that made him realize something he should have recognized years ago: Ilya was right.

When they were hiding their relationship, Shane had at least 4 people who knew about them. Ilya had no one. To Shane, he had no idea that that was such a big deal to Ilya. He had assumed Ilya was completely fine to keep everything to themselves. But here and now, Shane realizes just how isolated and alone Ilya must have felt during that time. For everyone around them to know and love him and show support for Shane, while Ilya had to stay confined and solitary. 

It was no wonder Ilya had gotten as upset as he did. It was no wonder that he had been hurt when Shane asked him if he would choose Shane over hockey. Shane had everything, and Ilya had given everything up to be with him. It wasn’t fair to ask Ilya that, and now he knows the full extent of just how wrong he was.

Shane had never fully realized how alone Ilya was the whole time. That was Ilya’s burden.

Now, Ilya was the Captain of their team, and almost all of their teammates had been nothing but supportive and friendly to them. Ilya had gained a sort of family with the Centaurs. Shane only now recognizes what that must mean for Ilya. 

Shane finished his beer and opened up a second. What the hell. Happy birthday, Hayden Pike.

It had been well after the sun had set that everybody had started to Shane and Ilya’s house. 

Hayden, Jackie, and the kids left first, insisting they needed to get to the hotel soon and get the kids to bed, worried the sugar from Hayden’s cake would keep them up. 

Yuna and David followed not so long after that. Shane had walked his parents to the door, leaving Ilya and JJ in the kitchen.

Ilya had started to gather some dishes and load them in the dishwasher.

“What a fucking party,” JJ said, downing the rest of his beer. Ilya could tell he was a little tipsy still. He had hoped he could drive to the hotel. Ilya really did not want JJ Boiziau sleeping on their couch. Or guest room. Or anywhere in their house, really.

Ilya hummed in agreement, shutting the dishwasher door. “Celebrating another year of Pike’s miserable life. May we never suffer the same fate.

JJ giggled. “Man, you were ripping on Hayden all day! Is Rozanov getting to you or something?”

“You could say that,” Ilya said, leaning into it.

“I’ve never seen Shane Hollander so ruthless off the ice,” JJ accused, leaning over the bartop.

“You have no idea,” Ilya smirked, grabbing a rag and wiping down some of the water stains on the counter.

They were quiet for a few seconds, and then JJ got off his chair and walked over to him. JJ then turned serious. He leaned in close to Ilya, his voice low. He spoke French to him.

Fuck, Ilya thought. Suddenly, this was no longer fun. 

Ilya had tried to ignore him. Maybe JJ would get the hint and go away, but JJ tapped his shoulder, waiting for a reply.

Ilya had known basically fuck all in French. He was lucky if he could make out one thing in an interview Shane did in the language. This was a checkmate that Ilya had not expected himself to be found in. 

JJ said something in French, and it did not take a genius for Ilya to hear the confused tone of the words. Ilya had started to panic. How was he supposed to reply? 

Thankfully, the universe saved him, for a second time.

“Is this man bothering you?” Shane asked, walking into the kitchen and reaching a hand over Ilya’s shoulder, bringing him close. 

Shane Hollander, Jesus Christ, I have never loved you more, Ilya thought. 

“Rozanov, always entering the scene unannounced,” JJ said, begrudgingly, scooting away.

“It is my specialty,” Shane replied, chirping at his friend. 

JJ snorted and looked at his phone, seeing the time. “Putain. I better leave.”

“You sure you’re going to be okay to drive?” Shane asked.

JJ pressed his lips together and blew a raspberry. “Have you ever had to worry about me?”

Ilya and Shane gave each other a look, and said nothing.

“I’ll be fine,” he said to the both of them. He brought Ilya in for a giant hug. Ilya flinched, wanting to get far away from this embrace as possible. 

He patted Shane on the back and grabbed his keys. “Fuckin’ killer party!”

He shut the front door behind him, and finally, after several hours, Shane and Ilya were alone again. They had hoped it was the last time in their state. 

Shane had let out almost a hysterical laugh as they stood there alone in their living room. Ilya could tell instantly that something had changed when JJ shut the door, like a mask was breaking off of Shane. 

“Shane?” Ilya asked, raising an eyebrow at his husband. “Are you okay?”

“You know,” Shane replied. “I don’t really know how to answer that.”

Ilya reached out and wrapped a hand around his waist.

“We’re both stuck in each other’s bodies and we just had to pretend in front of the people we care about to be somebody we aren’t,” Shane said. 

Ilya looked at him carefully, and then saw tears pooling in his eyes. For the first time since they switched, he finally saw Shane lose his careful resolve and control.

“I just had to lie to my family again,” Shane said, his voice starting to break, like the dam inside him that was holding everything back was now cracking. “I swore I would never lie to them again and I just had to fucking lie to them.”

Shane’s lips quivered and he sank to his knees. Ilya followed, immediately wrapping his arms around Shane. “And my parents… They didn’t…”

A tear fell down his cheek, and he sniffled. Tears had now started to form in Ilya’s eyes. The sight of his husband like this broke his own heart. And for as much fun and teasing he did all in Shane’s body, he too, felt a similar weight on him.

“They didn’t even recognize me,” Shane swallowed. “They just went to you. Me. Or, well, kinda.”

“You’re their son, Shane,” Ilya said, letting a tear of his own fall. He carded a hand through Shane’s hair. “You’re always going to be their son.”

“I didn’t think it would hurt so much, Ilya,” Shane confessed, trying not to sob. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Ilya lifted a hand under Shane’s chin and looked him in the eyes. He rubbed a tear away from his cheek. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“Yes, I do,” Shane muttered. He brought a hand up to Ilya’s on his cheek and rubbed his fingers over the knuckles.

Ilya stared at him, blinking in confusion.

“I’m sorry for how I acted after the game with the Voyageurs,” he began. “I was being selfish and stupid.”

Ilya shook his head, but Shane cut him off before he could say anything. “I wanted to be Captain so bad that it took over the reason I got into hockey in the first place. It overshadowed just how lucky I was to be playing this sport, and to be playing it with you. I was so caught up in what I wanted, I didn’t see how strong and great of a Captain you were for the team.”

Ilya scanned his face, seeing Shane release a few more tears from his eyes. “I thought that you had it so easy. You had a team that actually liked you and listened to you and accepted you. And I wanted that so badly. I selfishly wanted to take it from you. I thought, to you, it wouldn’t matter.”

Shane swallowed, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them and continuing. “And I thought, even when you just joined Ottawa and moved out here, you had it all. That you would be happy. And I thought you were, and I thought you were content with keeping us a secret and only my parents and Hayden and a few others on my end know. And I stupidly asked if you would ever choose me over hockey.”

“Shane…” Ilya started, but Shane shook his head.

“Let me talk, please,” Shane pleaded. “Let me finish.”

Ilya pressed his lips together, nodding.

“And I saw how it was destroying you. And, and for the record, I am so sorry about all of that. I am so sorry for how I spoke to you, and I am so sorry for pushing aside your concerns. You just wanted to have someone like I did,” Shane confessed. He brought his free hand to stroke Ilya’s hair in remorse. “But I saw you here, in our kitchen, surrounded by all the people that love me, and… And I just realized how lonely you were. And how selfish I was. You gave up everything for me and I got to be in the comfort of everyone around me, while you were sidelined. And that wasn’t fair.

“I never realized how much you gave up for me. I never saw how important it was for you to find a family of your own on the Centaurs. You deserve that love, and I am sorry I am only just now fully realizing it,” Shane finished. His lips quivered again, and another streak started down his cheek.

“Shane,” Ilya said finally. Shane closed his eyes, not wanting to look at Ilya.

“Shane,” he said more firmly. “Look at me, please.”

Shane hesitated, but he eventually did meet Ilya’s eyes. 

“We are getting nowhere dwelling on things in the past,” Ilya started, wiping the tears from Shane’s cheeks. “But if we’re doing apologies, it’s my turn.”

Shane looked like he was going to combat him, but Ilya pressed a finger to his lips. “You spoke. Now is my turn.”

“I am sorry for not seeing how important it was for you to be a part of the Centaurs. You have always took charge of a team and led them to victory, even in losses,” Ilya began. “To be thrown back into a small position, I could not imagine how strange that would be for you. You were right: I went from Captain of the Bears to Captain of the Centaurs. I never got to change. I had no idea how stripped you would feel after switching teams.”

Shane bit his lip, straining to keep his eyes on Ilya. He knew he had to.

“I am also sorry for not seeing how much your family meant to you, and I am sorry for not seeing how much you needed them to know about us,” Ilya admitted. “I was envious of you, for having all these people know while it felt like I was alone. But I had you. And, I realize now, I had them too.”

“They do love you,” Shane added.

Ilya nodded. “Yes. But most of all, they love you, like I love you.”

Shane sniffled, letting out a shaky breath. “I love you too.”

Ilya pressed a kiss to his lips, stroking his cheek. God, Ilya loved kissing Shane.

“For what it is worth,” Ilya said as he broke away. “I am… Kinda glad we switched bodies.”

Shane let out a laugh at that. “Oh, yeah? Why is that? You didn’t get enough reason to hate it during the party today?”

“I realized how wrong I was about you,” Ilya admitted. “And it made me love you so much more for everything you go through and still remain so resilient.”

“Big word, resilient,” Shane joked.

“Yes, I have been studying big words lately,” Ilya teased back. 

Shane kissed him again. “I’m glad too.”

Ilya pulled back and studied his face. “You are?”

“I don’t know if I would have understood all of this if I hadn’t woken up yesterday in your body. As much as it stresses me out, I think I needed to be you to understand you more. To love you more,” Shane confessed.

“Me too,” Ilya said in reply. “It helped me realize you are not boring.”

“Oh, my God, Rozanov!” Shane laughed, shoving him lightly. 

Ilya chuckled and pulled Shane in for another kiss. He tilted Shane’s head back and leaned deep into it, pouring all of his love for Shane into it, wanting it to be soaked up into him.

They kissed like that for several minutes, until Shane broke the cycle, bringing his hands down to cup Ilya’s ass.

Ilya moaned into the kiss. “Careful, Hollander. You may start something you claim you don’t want.”

“I don’t care right now,” Shane said, forcing Ilya closer.

Shane pushed his tongue into Ilya’s mouth, kissing him hungrily. Ilya allowed Shane to kiss him like this for a minute or so, until he finally broke away. He saw the dark pupils in his own eyes, but he had to be sure.

“Is what you want?” Ilya asked. He wanted to give Shane the out. He didn’t want to force Shane into something that would be too uncomfortable for him.

“Is what I want,” Shane said, playfully mocking Ilya’s Russian accent from his lips. He kissed him again, hard.

He could already feel Shane’s dick get hard in his body. God, here’s a new thing about Shane he’s learning about.

Ilya reached between them and cupped his dick through his sweatpants. Shane moaned at the touch. “Ilya…”

Ilya hummed at him, nodding at Shane to give him the okay to grind against his hand and chase his pleasure.

Shane messily moved his hips up, sliding against the fabric of his underwear and joggers to meet Ilya’s hand. It wasn’t enough, and Ilya knew this.

Ilya was so taken aback at the sight of his body flushed and hard underneath him, he almost missed Shane pleading for more. To move them out of the living room and into the bedroom.

Ilya snapped out of his trance, and got to his feet, yanking Shane up from the floor and to his feet, kissing him deep.

Shane grabbed his hand and pulled him to their bedroom, and Ilya’s face bore a smile wider than the horizon.

They got to their room and shut the door. Ilya immediately peeled Shane’s shirt off, revealing Ilya’s chiseled abs, somehow even more pronounced now that they were being shown off to himself. He took his own shirt off, pulling their bodies together and reveling in the mutual heat they gave off.

One of them moaned, and Ilya couldn’t tell which one it was, he was so lost in the moment. 

He fumbled with Shane’s pants, awkwardly pushing them off his own hips. Shane stepped out of them and did the same to Ilya, both of them now only separated by their briefs.

Ilya kissed Shane again and asked him against his lips. “Are you sure is what you want?”

“Yes,” Shane said. “I’m sure.”

Ilya nodded and reached a hand down past the elastic band. He slid his fingers through the crease of his own ass, simultaneously pushing them down and over his ass to have them fall to the floor.

And then Shane was standing there, in Ilya’s body. Completely naked. Ilya stared at himself, how his hard cock bobbed between his legs, how the veins in his arms popped at their sudden use. Ilya was stunned at the sight before him. He really was hot. He wished he could feel anything other than intrigue and enthusiasm, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t wait to see what he looked like falling apart.

He took his briefs off and stood naked before Shane, letting Shane take in the detail of his own body. Ilya watched as Shane’s face turned red, a look of desire creeping up on his face. “I knew you liked what you were seeing, Hollander.”

“Fuck off, Rozanov,” Shane said, but his entire facade was cracking. 

“On the bed,” Ilya commanded. Shane did not waste a single second doing what he was told. He crawled onto the bed, staying on all fours and presenting Ilya’s ass up to meet him. 

“You don’t want to see yourself, Shane?” Ilya asked, grabbing the lube from the drawer and kneeling onto the bed behind him. “You don’t want to watch yourself fuck you?”

“Don’t push it, Ilya,” Shane warned, gasping as Ilya brought a lubed finger to his hole.

“Tsk,” Ilya said in mock disappointment. He was elated to have this happen at all, but he did love seeing how flustered Shane got. 

Shane moaned into the sheets as Ilya pushed a finger in.

Ilya was used to finding Shane’s prostate in his own body. He could find it in his sleep. But his own? He never explored his body enough to bother. Shane had used his fingers on him a few times, but most of the prostate play had been in reverse, and so Ilya never really thought about trying to find his own. He also wondered how his body would react to being fucked. Ilya has never once bottomed for a dick. Fingers and the occasional toy, sure, but never with someone’s cock. His body would surely react much differently than Shane’s in response to that penetration.

As if on cue, Shane let out a loud gasp. “Oh, god, Ilya, there, fuck.”

Ilya smirked, reeling his finger back to push into that same spot, massaging against it. Found it.

Ilya slipped another finger inside, and let out a breath at seeing his own hole open around Shane’s fingers. It really was a sight to behold. The fingers disappeared inside, being suffocated by his hole and his cheeks. He thanked the gods above for granting him this small gift.

He played with Shane for several minutes, loving the sounds he was making, enthralled by the way his body contorted underneath him.

Eventually, after what sounded like muffled tears, Shane asked Ilya to fuck him. And Ilya could not push this off any longer.

Ilya took a sharp breath in, and coated his dick in lube. He stroked himself, moaning at the sensation that went across Shane’s body. And then he lined himself up against Shane, Shane’s head resting against Ilya’s already swollen hole.

“You ready?” Ilya asked. Shane nodded.

“Yes, please,” Shane moaned. “Fuck me, please.”

Ilya pushed inside, mouth immediately opening in surprise as his walls covered his dick. He moaned. “Fuck, Shane…”

Shane gripped the bedsheets and moaned, pushing back against Ilya to get him to bottom out faster. “Oh, God. Fuck. Yes.”

Ilya waited for only a moment for Shane and his body to adjust, and then he started moving. Ilya was overwhelmed at the way his body welcomed the cock making a home inside of it.

Ilya bit his lip, moaning against gritted teeth. He felt so good, fucking Shane like this was going to make Ilya lose his mind.

Shane begged Ilya to go faster and harder in Russian. And, holy fuck, if he kept that up, Ilya was going to shoot off fast. His own body, albeit Shane inside, speaking Russian back to him was so unbelievably sexy. 

He felt his body surge in arousal at Shane moaning and clenching around him. Ilya was so entranced by the way his ass cheeks bounced against Shane’s pelvis. His cheeks were so round and formed that it was like a ricochet from the balls hitting his perineum. Ilya reached down and squeezed them, and Shane let out a loud shout. 

“God, Hollander,” Ilya groaned, thrusting faster, wanting to see the way his body fell back on his dick.

“It feels so good, Ilya, oh my god,” Shane mumbled, pressing his face into the pillow so he could let out a loud moan.

He could feel his body shift, and he instantly knew what was happening. “Shane?”

“I’m going to cum, Ilya,” Shane admitted, lifting his head off the pillow just enough for Ilya to catch his words. 

“Fuck, me too,” Ilya relayed, thrusting even harder against him. He reached over Shane’s waist and grabbed his hard cock, moving his hand in time with his thrusts. “Come for me, Shane.”

Shane only lasted for a few more seconds before his body convulsed, the muscles in his pelvis constricting, and Ilya felt like it was his body’s way of begging for Ilya to release inside of him. “Come, Ilya. Please.”

Ilya let out a loud groan, and then thrusted deep inside, letting the cum spill from him and inside of Shane. 

They both took a few moments to catch their breath, both completely enamored by the sex that they just had. Unbelievably hot sex with each other in bodies that weren’t their own. 

Ilya stroked Shane’s hair, and told him gently that he was going to pull out. Shane nodded, and braced for the emptiness. 

Ilya left to grab a washcloth from the bathroom, and came back to wipe themselves off and clean their bed.

Ilya tossed the cloth into the laundry bin, and crawled onto the bed again to kiss Shane deeply. Shane pushed back against him with equal passion, and mumbled against his lips.

“I love you, Ilya,” Shane said.

“I love you, too, Shane,” Ilya replied, wrapping him in his arms and pulling him close on the bed.

Ilya reached over and turned off the light, pressing his face into Shane’s neck.

“Can I confess something?” Shane asked into the darkness.

Ilya hummed, letting Shane speak. 

“I don’t think I’m scared anymore,” he said. Ilya raised an eyebrow before he clarified. “Of waking up tomorrow and being in your body. I think whatever this is, we will figure it out.”

“Me too,” Ilya said, kissing his neck. “We’ve figured it out before, we can do it again.”

They both curled into the warmth of each other, and let sleep overcome them once again.

Ilya woke up to the sound of a loon right outside the window. 

He jumped, but not as much as he had in the past when the stupid Canadian wolf bird scared him. He mumbled a curse in Russian at it, and then got up to use the restroom. 

He saw from the mirror’s reflection that he was still in Shane’s body, and he figured that they would have another day of this switcheroo that neither of them had anticipated.

He sighed and rubbed his face, deciding to get some water before returning to bed and trying to get some sleep before taking on tomorrow.

He opened the fridge and opened one of the water bottles, bringing it to his lips. He closed his eyes at the feeling of the cold water going down his throat. He finished what he wanted to drink and put it back in the fridge.

Anya had come to greet him at the sound of noise in the kitchen. He whispered softly to her and petted her head, opening the porch door to let her pee. He watched her from the window and once she finished she came running back to the house. He let her inside, giving her a treat for being a good girl, and then started to walk back towards the bedroom.

Ilya put a foot on the stairs when he heard a whirring coming from the living room. He tilted his head and walked towards it. He leaned down in front of the TV and saw their Xbox was switched on, and judging by how hot it was, it was on for a while.

Ilya shook his head, wondering when it would’ve gotten turned on. Probably by one of the kids or JJ or Hayden. He turned it off and the whirring stopped. He looked down and also saw his cover of the NHL game on the floor. His young face stared back at him, posing and threatening anyone to try to beat him.

He picked it up, seeing the game’s cover glow in the moonlight. He sighed, thinking about how far away that part of him seemed to be now.

Ilya put the game back on the shelf, and walked up the stairs to bed.

He climbed underneath the covers and pulled Shane close to him. At least he had Shane, the one and only constant in his life. He closed his eyes and fell back into sleep.

Shane woke up first that morning, shrugging the sleep from his body. He got up and stretched in the sunlight. Anya raised her head and yawned, moving over to say good morning with her little deer toy.

“Good morning, girl,” he said, scratching her chin. 

Shane’s eyes widened when he realized. He just spoke to Anya. In his own voice.

He walked over to the bathroom to find the mirror, and finally, finally, he saw his own reflection staring back at him.

Shane was himself again, which meant Ilya was himself again too.

“Ilya!” he shouted, his smile widening. He ran to meet his husband in bed.

Ilya groaned as he was forced awake from his sleep, moving his hand over his eyes. “Shane…?”

“I’m me! And you’re you!” Shane exclaimed. He watched as Ilya sat up, rubbing his eyes, squinting against the sun rays and saw Shane right in front of him, completely in his own body.

“We’re… Back?” Ilya asked, still confused and groggy from sleep. 

“We are!” Shane laughed. He jumped onto the bed and kissed his husband. 

Ilya kissed back eagerly, pulling Shane close to him. As much as he didn’t mind kissing him from Ilya’s body, Ilya did miss the feeling of Shane’s lips on his.

Shane pulled away, cupping Ilya’s face in his hands. “Let’s never do that again.”

Ilya let out a loud laugh, yanking Shane close to him and flipping them over, continuing to kiss him like they had all the time in the world.

Chapter End Notes

And we have reached the end! I hope you all enjoyed this funny little fic! Find me at @jocelynebenezra on twitter xo