Rating:

Mature

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid

Relationship:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov

Additional Tags:

Book 2: Heated Rivalry (Game Changers), Implied Sexual Content, Book 6: The Long Game (Game Changers), Spoilers for Book 6: The Long Game (Game Changers), Scent Kink, Fluff and Humor, Cover Model Ilya Rozanov, Written before Heated Rivalry (TV)

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2025-05-05 Completed: 2025-08-10 Words: 2,373 Chapters: 2/2

You sniff me all the time

Summary

Shane learns what cologne Ilya wears, and can't help himself.

Update: now featuring fanart in ch. 2!

Notes

This is my first fic ever in any fandom, but I just could not get this idea out of my head. So please be kind! I am so late to the party, but I’ve been reading my way through every Game Changers fic after finishing the series recently.

This story starts in the Heated Rivalry timeline and jumps to The Long Game timeline. I think I got the timeline right, but please correct me if it's off.

Chapter 1

November 2014

Shane always used self-checkout if he could, to avoid being recognized. Although he didn’t know how likely that would be on a road trip in North Carolina. He stopped into the CVS next to their hotel to grab a gatorade after a run outside — why use the rickety hotel treadmill when the weather was this beautiful in November? He’d needed to clear his head, still stuck on his…encounter… with Rozanov after their win in Boston last night. 

But the universe could never let him forget, because as Shane scanned his drink, he glanced up to see none other than Ilya Rozanov looking back at him from the cover of GQ. After leading Boston to win the cup in June, his face had been popping up all over the place, like a sexy ghost haunting Shane wherever he went. 

Rozanov looked ridiculously good on the magazine cover. He wore a loose linen shirt, fully unbuttoned, and was leaning forward so his ridiculous bear tattoo was visible, and that crucifix he always wore was dangling suggestively. Maybe it was only suggestive to Shane who was used to that cross dangling over him during…

Shane blushed as he had a staring contest with the cover of a magazine for a few seconds, and without thinking too hard about it, he pulled his black baseball cap lower on his head, snatched the magazine, scanned it, and shoved it into the bag with the gatorade. He paid as fast as he could, and practically sprinted out the door, as if he had just shoplifted. Rather than what he actually did — lawfully pay for a magazine with an unfairly hot photo of his professional nemesis/secret gay sex partner on the cover.

I'm not going to jerk off to this, I'm not going to jerk off to this, I’m not going to jerk off to this.

Shane repeated this over and over in his head as he stomped down the sidewalk and back into his hotel. He prayed that none of his teammates were around to ask why his face was red and his breathing was so short. He slammed the elevator buttons over and over and bolted to his room as soon as it dinged open — the shame and horniness (they always seemed to go hand in hand) propelling him down the hall. 

Taking deep breaths to steady himself, Shane dropped the bag on the dresser in his room and forced himself to unpack and order some room service, instead of immediately pulling out the magazine and stroking himself into oblivion. He had self control. He had to have some self control. 

But not that much self control. Because 5 minutes after finishing his dinner, he was breathing heavily after coming hard and fast, with the magazine face-down and shoved across the mattress. After cleaning himself up and getting back in bed, Shane couldn’t help but pick the magazine back up. 

What does this asshole have to say for himself anyway? And why did he get a GQ cover before me? 

He admitted to himself that it was obvious — he hadn’t won the cup yet. And Rozanov was sexy and stylish, always with a perfectly tailored designer suit on game days, and photographed in luxury streetwear outside the rink. Unlike Shane, and to be fair, most other NHL players, with his basic wardrobe of polos and chinos or athletic wear, Ilya cared about fashion and clearly put effort into how he looked. Not that Shane noticed. Of course he didn’t notice. 

Reluctantly, he skimmed the interview. And damn it, Rozanov was charming. Most of the questions were about his fitness routine and vision for the rest of his career. He was confident and flirty, and Shane, disturbingly, could picture him winking at multiple points during the interview. The questions then moved to style and fashion, so Shane was going to turn the page to get to the good part — more pictures. But his eyes caught on a question that piqued his interest. 

“GQ: Ilya, I couldn't help but notice that you smelled great when you sat down today. Is fragrance part of your style routine? Do you have a signature scent?”

Was the GQ guy flirting with him??? Ugh, get it together Shane, you can’t possibly be jealous. 

“Rozanov: I do, actually. Dior Homme. Same since my rookie year. This is not a sponsorship, but hey, Dior, call me!”

Shane's mind was racing. He was always so intoxicated by Rozanov's smell, and just assumed it was his stupid horny brain reacting to pheromones. But no, it must be this cologne. It made Shane feel feral, it was like cedar and patchouli, and something else he couldn't put his finger on. The smell made him ravenous for Rozanov, so much so that sometimes he wanted to bite down and suck on his neck like a fucking vampire. It was almost a relief to know that it wasn’t Rozanov’s natural aroma, but rather this cologne, that drove Shane crazy.

“GQ: It works on you! I may need to grab a bottle.”

This guy is definitely flirting.

…I may need to grab a bottle too. 

—-

A week later, Shane arrived home to a small box sitting in front of his front door, and he tried to ignore the flutters in his stomach (and dick) at the thought of just smelling Rozanov again. 

In his bedroom, he opened the elaborately and beautifully packaged box to withdraw a small bottle with a roller top. He’d only ordered a sample, but he was still shocked at the price. Over $100 for less than 2 ounces? He knew they were millionaires, but Shane never even thought to spend this much on perfume. Or cologne, or whatever. He was fine with his Old Spice. But this is what Rozanov did to him, made him make irrational decisions and purchases. (At least it wasn’t an entire building this time.)

He took one whiff, and Shane's dick was hard already. He rolled his eyes and groaned to himself. 

Maybe this will break the spell. It's not Rozanov, it's this damn smell that gets me so turned on.

Driven once again by shame and horniness, Shane dabbed a small drop onto one of his pillows and inhaled deeply. 

Fuuuuck that's good.  

He shucked his t-shirt and sweats and lay down on the bed, turning his head into the now-fragranced pillow. Shane could not actually believe how turned on this was getting him, but he went with it. Breathing in the pillow, he reached his hand down to start rubbing at the bulge in his boxer briefs. He suddenly regretted leaving that magazine behind in his Raleigh hotel room, but it spared him the shame of looking at those unreasonably hot photos while getting off to the scent of Rozanov.

When he finished, Shane threw the pillow in the washing machine — he could not allow the smell to linger. And, he was ashamed to admit, it wasn’t quite the same without the warm, sculpted body that usually accompanied it. 

Shane promised himself he wouldn’t do this again, but he couldn’t bring himself to throw the bottle away. Instead, he dropped into his underwear drawer, burying it, and forced himself not to think about it. 

—

October 2018

Ilya had gone over to Shane’s apartment after Montreal defeated Ottawa in an early-season game. His mental health was suffering, being on a losing team and secretly in love with someone was he supposed to hate was not a good combination for someone with a family history of depression. The depression had made him forgetful and absent-minded on top of everything else. So he cursed himself when he realized he hadn’t brought another pair of underwear in his bag. He needed to start keeping clothes here. 

The pair he wore over was currently in the washing machine, having gotten more than a little dirty from being stuffed into Shane’s mouth while Ilya fucked him. He’d had enough of Shane’s chirping about Montreal’s win and shoved them in Shane’s mouth as a joke. Ilya was pleasantly surprised when Shane’s eyes went wide and he groaned around the bundled fabric in his mouth. So they went with it.

After showering and putting in the laundry, Shane went to grab them a snack and wait for Ilya on the couch — they’d played an afternoon game, so they had the whole evening to enjoy together. 

Ilya opened Shane’s underwear drawer to find a pair to borrow. He remembered bringing Shane this absolutely ridiculous pair of briefs covered in Boston Bears logos as a joke before he moved to Ottawa this summer, and decided to tease Shane by wearing them now. He dug through the drawer to find them — he knew Shane would have held on to them, despite his complaints when Ilya presented them to him with a smirk and a wink. 

When he finally found them, he grabbed the briefs, then heard a little thunk of something in the drawer. Moving the neatly stacked underwear to the side, Ilya spotted a small bottle of liquid rolling to the back of the drawer.

What is this?

When he realized, a wicked grin spread across his face, despite the warmth that bloomed in his heart. Ilya pulled on the Bears briefs on and sauntered over to Shane, bottle of Dior Homme in hand. 

“I didn’t know you were into fragrances,” Ilya said casually, walking up behind his boyfriend on the couch.

“Huh? I’m not,” Shane said absently, turning back to look at Ilya. He glanced down to see the briefs Ilya was wearing and his eyes went suddenly wide, realization clear on his face. Ilya had been in his underwear drawer. “Oh…”

“If you’re not, why do you have this very small bottle of Dior Homme? Did you know I used to wear this every day?” Ilya’s self-satisfied grin showed he clearly knew the answer. He had actually switched scents a couple of years ago. He was gifted a bottle of Ombre Nomade when he did an ad campaign with Louis Vouitton, and decided to stay loyal to the company paying him.

Shane shot up from the couch, trying to grab the cologne out of Ilya’s hands, but Ilya backed away and started opening the bottle, inhaling a little bit.

“Shane, I have not used this cologne in years. Did you get this before…” Ilya gestured between them. “How did you even know I used it? I do not think I had it sitting out in my Boston condo.”

Shane, still grabbing for the bottle while his cheeks grew deep red, groaned, “Ilya, it doesn’t matter, give that to me! I’m not talking to you about this!”

“Why, you are embarrassed? We are in love, you sniff me all the time, I know it turns you on. Why embarrassed now?”

“I don’t know! It’s just… I was so in denial then, the shame kind of doesn’t fully go away sometimes.” 

“It is very cute to me,” Ilya teased. “Young Hollander desperate just to smell me. But how did you know my cologne? You never asked.”

Shane looked down and muttered to himself, “That would have been humiliating.”

Ilya stood there with the bottle over his head, but Shane had stopped reaching for it.

With a sigh, Shane averted his eyes and admitted, “When you were on the cover of GQ in 2014 after Boston won the cup… they asked you about your cologne in the interview.”

“You read that!?” Ilya was very pleased with this information.

“I saw the magazine in a store and, ugh, I don’t know, I couldn’t resist.” More quietly, and looking down at his hands, blushing even more somehow, Shane said, “You looked so fucking good on that cover.”

Ilya grinned, “I know. I did.”

Shane rolled his eyes. “Well, anyway, I read the damn interview. And by the way, that interviewer was totally flirting with you…”

Now it was Ilya’s turn to roll his eyes. 

“... and I thought maybe I could get you out of my system if I got the cologne and could smell it without you around. Like, maybe it was the cologne making me so horny, not, you know… you.”

“But it did not work.” Ilya crossed his arms and smirked. He was far too satisfied with himself.

“Obviously not,” Shane rolled his eyes again, some of the embarrassment fading away with Ilya’s warm smile shining on him. 

“You know… I forgot how much I like this smell. Is very nice,” Ilya drawled. “I could put it on now?”

Shane’s eyes met his. They were hot with anticipation, and Ilya could already see Shane’s cock start to swell in his sweats.

“Yes, let us remember the old days.” Ilya unscrewed the bottle cap and rubbed a little on his neck. Shane’s eyes followed Ilya’s hand as he brought the bottle down past his abs and rubbed the tiniest bit along the trail of hair leading into his briefs. “You want to smell, moy lyubimiy?”

Shane nodded breathlessly and dropped to his knees.

–

Twenty minutes later, they were tangled on the couch, Shane nuzzling into Ilya’s neck. 

“Wow, you really like this stuff.” Ilya huffed contentedly.

“I guess so,” Shane laughed in response. “It triggered something in me the first time I smelled it on you. Honestly, now I think it was more you than the cologne. But being with you and smelling this scent got connected in my brain or something. I was so feral back then.”

“And you are not feral now?” Ilya chuckled as Shane continued to nuzzle aggressively into his neck like a cat. He might as well be purring. Shane just pressed his grin to Ilya’s shoulder, squeezing his boyfriend, and they settled into a comfortable silence.

“I can’t wait until I can smell you whenever I want,” Shane sighed after a few minutes.

“I cannot wait, too, sweetheart,” Ilya kissed the top of Shane’s head. “But until then, I will get you a bottle of my new cologne to jerk off to.” 

Shane playfully slapped him on the chest, but smiled shyly and said, “Yes, please.”

Chapter 2: The GQ Cover

Chapter Summary

wilmonstan12345 is an artist and an angel and made the GQ cover and I'm deeply obsessed. Feat. the lovely Connor Storrie aka our Ilya for the upcoming (eventually? we hope?) Heated Rivalry show.

Cover model Ilya in all his glory. I can smell him from here and so can Shane.