Rating:

Not Rated

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types, Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid

Relationships:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Troy Barrett & Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Troy Barrett

Additional Tags:

POV Shane Hollander, Hurt Shane Hollander, Angry Shane Hollander, Shane Hollander Gets to Crash Out, Troy Barrett Critical, Ilya Rozanov Critical, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Shane Hollander Lashes Out at Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander Needs a Hug, let shane crash out, Internalized Homophobia, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Racism, Troy Barrett Bashing, Let Shane Hollander Crash Out, Angst, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, my shanebug deserves better, Implied/Referenced Eating Disorders, Autistic Shane Hollander, Depressed Ilya Rozanov

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-08-25 Words: 3,333 Chapters: 1/1

I already chose you, Ilya

Summary

“I might be busy having sex with Troy,” Ilya said tightly.

Ilya makes a joke about having sex with Troy. What he doesn't know is how deeply the joke hurt Shane. Two days and many unanswered calls later, they finally talk. And Ilya learns how much Shane has been silently carrying all these years.

"Would you even choose me, Shane?"

"I already chose you, Ilya."

Or: Shane crashes out after years of stupid jokes about his diet, homophobic slurs thrown at him, racist environment, and one unfortunate joke about Troy Barrett.

Notes

Hello🤍

This story has been influenced by my series of tweets discussing TLG.

In my opinion, The Long Game barely discussed any of the major issues Shane has experienced. Therefore, I decided to write this fic, which is my take on Shane and Ilya’s dynamics that will touch upon all the struggles Shane has gone through.

After massive discourse surrounding this fic, I have removed a tag (Ilya Rozanov Bashing) to avoid any further misunderstanding.

The purpose of this story is explore Shane's rage about his struggles, not to hate on Ilya or portray him in a negative way.

Perspectives and beliefs differ, so please be mindful and respectful🫶🏻

TW/CW: use of homophobic slur

Enjoy!♡

“I might be busy having sex with Troy,” Ilya said tightly.

This was the exact moment Shane felt his heart break into million small pieces. Slumping down onto the kitchen counter after Ilya hung up the call on his face, Shane stared into distance. He felt his body go completely motionless, the warmth abandoning it all at once, violent shiver running through him.

Did Ilya really think it was a funny joke?

Did his boyfriend of almost a decade think making a ‘joke’ about fucking another man was laughable? And that man being Troy fucking Barrett, off all people.

Sliding down the granite counter and sitting on the cold kitchen floor, Shane closed his eyes. Rewinding the conversation they had shared five minutes ago, he searched for the moment when everything had gone wrong.

Ilya came out to somebody. Great, that was absolutely great. He was obviously very happy for his boyfriend, excited that he came out to someone. Because Shane knew what it meant to live in closet. He knew what it was to hide his sexuality and how horribly it sucked, destroying every ounce of dignity he desperately held onto.

Yet, beneath his happiness, Shane felt something else lingering. Why was he feeling the deep sorrow and disappointment inside him? Was it aftertaste of argument or  was it the feeling of longing he felt to come out to a friend on his own terms?

He had his own support system, he really did. Shane had his parents, Hayden, and Rose, all of them who knew about his sexuality and his partner.

However, Shane’s history with coming out never sat right with him. His dad had accidentally stumbled upon them and discovered their relationship. His ex-girlfriend, Rose, had guessed because he couldn’t use his dick properly. Every important person in Shane’s life found out his big secret against his will.

So, yeah, Shane dreaded being in Ilya’s position - to come out on your own terms, choose to give your secrets to your trusted ones.

Something wet slid down Shane’s cheek and fell to his open hands.

God, when was the last time he cried?

Aggressively wiping his eyes and nose, he stood up and searched for his phone to call Ilya. Not wanting to leave their conversation on such terrible notes, Shane opened his contacts and pressed call.

Shane knew there was something wrong with his boyfriend - sadness and dimmed light settled his eyes were the biggest indicators. The way his smile has become clipped and forced rather than genuine. Shane had loved Ilya long enough to notice these small details.

After his many rings went unanswered, Shane stopped waiting. Instead, he went into their chat and typed a quick message.

Shane:
Hey.
We need to talk.

Sighing, he locked his phone and went upstairs to take a shower and relieve the stress of the day.

Perhaps the water would calm his nerves. Yet, the moment Shane got under the hot shower, he felt his eyes starting to burn. Lowering his neck down and baring it to the pour of hot droplets, Shane’s mind wandered to dark places.

Was he really the bad boyfriend?

A single, silent sob escaped through him.

Was he selfish to dislike Ilya’s new friend, Troy?

Another louder sob tore through Shane’s chest.

Was he fucked up to want to hide their relationship until things settled down?

The intensity of sobs increased the longer Shane stood under scorching hot water. Questions came faster and crueler each time.

Would Ilya be better off with him, having more fun?

Strength finally left Shane’s legs and he fell onto his knees. He started violently shaking as weeps wrecked his body, tears disappearing into rushing water.

At the end of the day, he was just a boring hockey player.

***

It has been three hours since Shane last texted Ilya to talk.

Delivered.

Shane has showered, cried his heart out, dozed off, and message was still fucking delivered. With his patience running low, he pressed the call button and waited for it to ring.

Hi, this is Ilya, and I will never listen to your voicemail.

Asshole. Not only had Ilya hung up on his face and ignored his messages, but he also had turned off his phone.

Suddenly, all the sorrow Shane felt left his body, replacing it with rage. Pure, unfiltered rage that filled him up with venom.

What did Shane do to deserve this treatment? Was all this fuss because he asked a simple question to Ilya?

“You didn’t tell him about us, did you?”

Shane couldn’t really understand what was wrong with this question. They both had constructed a plan to come out and Shane felt it was fair of him to ask this question. All he wanted was a peaceful relationship with Ilya in the world full of homophobic people, one of them being Troy. Or, at least, who used to be homophobic douchebag to him.

Back in the call, when Shane learned that Ilya befriended Troy Barrett, who has also apparently come out as gay, he was genuinely shocked . The man, who threw homophobic slurs at Shane, was queer. The man who was the reason for players like Shane staying closeted, proudly came out to his boyfriend. The irony was almost unbearable.

Feeling the rage inside him intensifying, Shane opened their chat again.

Shane:
Text me when you calm down.
I am fucking serious, Ilya.

***

It was two days later when Shane got a short and simple message from Ilya.

Ilya:
Are you free today?

Shane:
Yes, why?

Ilya:
I am coming over

When the last message popped up, Shane’s heart dropped to his stomach, despite knowing that this conversation was long overdue. Looking around his house, Shane searched for any mess to clean up. He found nothing. Every surface was wiped clean and every corner was thoroughly cleaned by restless Shane.

As he was about to go and check upstairs rooms, his doorbell rang, freezing Shane in his spot. 

Fuck, it had to be Ilya.

Wiping his sweaty hands on the kitchen cloth, Shane walked to the door, took a deep breath, and opened it.

There he was. Shane’s greatest achievement, the man who could speak the language of his soul. Even after two days of anger and silence, Shane’s breath hitched seeing Ilya in front of him… looking very tired with dark circles around his eyes.

“Hi.”
“Hello.”

There was an awkward, palpable tension between two men, neither of them making a move to speak. At last, Shane broke the intense eye contact and signalled Ilya to come in.

Shane could feel his hands starting to slightly tremble. Tucking them in his hoodie's pockets and sitting down on the left end of the sofa, he left a huge space between him and Ilya. When Ilya finally took his shoes off and sat down, Shane noticed how tense his shoulders looked. 

After short silence, Ilya, eventually, lowered his eyes.

“I am sorry,” he quietly muttered. “I am sorry for the joke I made, it was not nice of me to do that. I thought about what I said, and my therapist’s words-”

Ilya stopped and took a deep breath, still avoiding Shane’s eyes.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“You are seeing a therapist?”

“Yes.”

Ilya hesitated for a moment.

“I have been seeing her for many months.”

Shane felt something in him sink. Months. Ilya was seeing a therapist for months and didn’t tell him.

“Why did you not tell me?”

Shane's voice broke on the last syllable, which quickly got Ilya’s attention.

“Yes, I did not fucking tell you anything.” Ilya’s voice began to shake.

“I did not tell you that I am depressed, that I am seeing therapist, and that sometimes I feel so fucking miserable that it hurts as if my bones are getting broken.”

Getting all of the words out, tears started flowing down Ilya’s cheeks. Seeing Ilya in this state, Shane’s hands ached to reach him, hold him, caress his cheeks, and smear all the tears. But, this conversation had to happen and Shane wouldn’t destroy it because every instinct in his body begged him to comfort the man he loved.

“You refuse to talk to me,” Shane said quietly. “Your boyfriend of many years, which I totally understand. I understand that sometimes you might need space and time. But I asked you, multiple times repeatedly, Ilya, is something wrong? Ilya, are you okay? ” Shane’s voice grew heavier.

“And every time, every goddamn time, you changed the topic and ignored me.”

Getting frustrated and needing some release of energy, Shane stood up, starting to pace around the room, continuing in louder tone.

“How am I supposed to communicate with you and understand our issues if you keep shutting me down?”

 Hearing Shane’s harsh tone, Ilya let out a quiet whine, “Would you even look at me like I am the Sun after I told you all of the darkness inside me? Would you even choose me, Shane?”

Shane abruptly stopped and looked at Ilya, his heart nearly breaking.

Ilya was looking at Shane with a deeply wounded emotion in his eyes, as if he was a little kid waiting for approval from his parents to believe that he was still worthy of love.

“I would,” Shane’s voice softened. “I would stay with you in your bad days, in your good days, in the times when you don’t want to see my face, but I would not go anywhere. Ilya, I died a lot to live a little with you and you think I would not die more?”

Shane’s face was scrunched up in pain. Only now, he was beginning to realize how much his boyfriend was hurting and hiding from him.

“Shane, I am so fucking tired of keeping our relationship private. I am tired of all the hide and seek games we play.” Ilya let out a frustrated huff, aggressively standing upon his feet as well. His eyes looked deadly furious and face carried nothing but pure rage.

“Ilya, I am also fucking tired. Okay?” Shane spread his hands helplessly to his sides. “It is not only you that is keeping us a secret. I get it, it is fucking hard and unfair that we have to hide our love. But, there is no other way. Do you understand that?”

“No, Shane, you don’t understand.” Ilya’s eyes flashed with anger.

“I came out to one of my only friends about my sexuality and the first thing you did was question me by bitching about us just because you were jealous.”

Hearing the last part, Shane felt his body get hot. It was unusual for him to get this angry, but his boyfriend’s unfair accusation had struck something raw.

“I am glad that you are making friends with Troy. I'm so happy. I am also very delighted to hear that you came out to him.” Shane’s jaw tightened, his teeth clashing together.

“But, you know what I am not happy about? You thinking I am jealous of Troy. Thinking that I am jealous of someone who threw homophobic slurs at me and acted like a total douchebag.”

Shane could feel his chest constrict, his airways getting stuck with air he couldn’t breath.

“This makes me fucking devastated, Ilya."

Breathing through his nose, Shane continued.

“So yeah, I am jealous. I am jealous that Troy gets to be the brave hero, while I am the fucking villain in my own story.”

Ilya's face has paled hearing the raw hurt in Shane's voice. “He changed. Troy is not the man he used to be.”

“Congratulations.” Shane clapped, sound sharp and bitter echoing in the quiet room.

“I am so thrilled for him and his boyfriend. But, that doesn’t change the past and my disdain towards him. I have every right to be angry and every reason to be cautious when I get to be closeted because of people like him.”

Shane took a shaky breath, despite it being fucking painful, and tried to calm his nerves.

“Because, in the end, it will be me who is going to get labeled as the Gay Asian Hockey Player.”

The eerie silence fell into the room, only the harsh breaths of Shane being heard. Feeling the exhaustion from the past few days crashing onto him, Shane lowered his voice and continued.

“You think it is easy for me to hide our relationship? It fucking kills me, Ilya, slowly and painfully.” Shane tapped his chest, hitting right where his heart was.

“Not being able to hold your hand in public, kiss you when my heart desires, and go on silly dates destroys me from inside.”

Shane felt his tears fall again, but this time he refused to look away.

“Some nights, I wake up dreaming about us fucking on center of ice, where everybody sees us. I want to show you off to the whole world, bragging about my very amazing and brave boyfriend.”

He swallowed hard, blinking away the tears pooling in his lower lash line.

“But, we have a plan to stick to that both of us decided on.” Shane emphasized the last word, his voice rising.

“We decided on it, Ilya. Not you. Not me. We.”

Ilya opened his mouth, but Shane didn’t let him speak.

“So, of course, I will ask you that question about revealing us to Troy - the man who once used to be a homophobic piece of shit to me.”

Suddenly, Ilya’s jaw tightened and his eyes has gotten darker.

What wrong thing did Shane say for him to react like this?

“You keep talking about Troy like he is the only reason this is so fucking difficult.” Ilya started to spit out the words poisoned with resentment.

“Do you think I moved to this shitty team for nothing?” Shane took a cautious small step backwards as Ilya neared him.

“No, Shane, you wouldn't understand. I moved to a fucking shitty team just to be close to you. See, Mr. Perfect, not everyone has a flawless life like yours. They don’t have great parents to lean against. They don’t have friends to share their ‘secret’ with. And they don’t fucking have a great winning team.”

By the time Ilya was finished, a vein had popped in his forehead. For a moment, Shane could only stare at him.

Did Ilya really think his life was perfect all this time?

“You know my parents love you like their own child.”

As the words got out of Shane, he noticed the flicker of guilt crossing Ilya’s eyes. However, Shane was too mad to soften up over Ilya’s guilt.

“And you think my team is great? They refuse to look at my face just because I am gay.” The hurt in Shane’s voice turned to venomous anger.

“Gay, Ilya. The team that I gave my all to, sacrificed myself for, is turning their back at me just because I chose to be myself.” Shane started laughing bitterly, surprising Ilya.

Was it the end? Has he finally gone fucking insane to laugh in the middle of an argument?

“I have no friends, Ilya, no team. Rose is always booked and busy, Hayden is a dumbass that has a problem with my long-time partner, and my team thinks that I am some loser asshole.”

Shane could feel his voice getting louder again. His throat would probably be sore for a few days because of all the shouting he did.

“Shane- ”

“Ilya, you hurt me. Stupid jokes you make wound me. Did you never notice?” Ilya went absolutely still upon hearing this come directly out of his boyfriend’s mouth.

“Thank you for understanding and apologizing for the Troy joke. I am grateful that you fixed your mistake. But that shit left me crying for days, making me ask same questions repeatedly. Did I finally bore him? Did I press too much that he is finally leaving me?”

Shane was crying openly now, yelling every word through frustrated and angry tears. It was his first time having a big melt-down in front of Ilya, bearing himself open.

“Have you maybe ever thought that your jokes are mean and tiring, hmm? That your boyfriend, Shane, gets offended by these jokes? Am I really just the laughing point for you?”

“You are boring, Shane. You are no fun to go to restaurants with Shane. Eat real bread, Shane. Shane this, Shane that.” Shane repeated the words that wounded him so many times.

“Shane, this is not true-”

“You think I enjoy my diet and get a huge pleasure from it? Some days, I would fucking kill for alfredo pasta and crispy chicken, with a side of garlic bread and some overly sugary drink.”

Gazing at Ilya, Shane saw the desperate panic claw into his face. As if he wanted to reach out to Shane, but was scared to do so.

Hiccuping, Shane continued opening up his deepest wounds to Ilya.

“But none of it was important, because winning mattered more. More victorious games meant I was useful. Useful for my team, useful for the kids that looked up to me, and useful for you.”

Whispering the last part that was barely audible, Shane felt the floor move under his legs. Ilya immediately reached for him, but he bolted sideways and refused his boyfriend’s touch.

“You know, there was once a time when I tasted lemonade from your tongue just because my stupid fucking diet didn’t allow me to drink it.” Shane laughed softly, as if he couldn’t believe his own ears.

“I was so scared. I was so fucking scared that one wrong thing, one extra sip of lemonade, and one wrong move would ruin the everything I worked hard for.”

Shane pointed his finger to Ilya’s chest, his voice becoming almost pleading. “You knew this, Ilya. You knew how my routine mattered the most to me, yet you stood there making all these jokes that you thought were funny.”

“Shane, baby…”

Ilya was hyperventilating now, his hair disheveled from the way his hands nervously ran through his curls.

“I never knew you got hurt this much.”

Shane looked at his boyfriend. With no energy left inside him, he told every shit that hurt him for years.

“I grew up trying to be a role model for everybody. There are many kids that will look up to you, Shane. I was just a fucking kid myself.”

For a moment, Shane could vividly remember his mom telling him these words. How in that moment the whole world seemed to drop on his shoulders, as if he was trusted to carry all the hopes and dreams of Asian kids with him.

Coming back to reality, Shane continued.

“I swallowed my anger every time somebody called me a faggot. I bit my tongue every time some player joked about my Asian heritage. What did they do? They  took that fucking privilege from me - privilege of lashing out, fighting back, and being comfortable in my own skin. Why? Because great Shane Hollander, the phenomenal Asian hockey player, had to be a role model for everybody. Because he would be scrutinized and downplayed by the media if he snapped. Because Shane Hollander pushed his limits, worked harder than anyone, and stayed silent.”

Shane could hear violent sobs coming from Ilya. Gazing sideways he saw how his hands were extended and trembling, trying to grip his arm but not being brave enough to do so.

“Can you guess why, Ilya? It is because Shane Hollander plays in this shitty environment where Asians have to exert themselves to stand out, to be remembered, to be cherished.”

Staring directly in Ilya’s eyes, Shane whispered the final words using his last energy.

“Earlier, you asked, would you even choose me, Shane? "

"I already chose you, Ilya.”

Done with his break-out speech, Shane quickly stood up, passing Ilya sitting on the floor, took his car keys and jacket, slammed the door, and left the museum filled with his love, grief, and fears.