Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid

Relationships:

Troy Barrett/Harris Drover, Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Troy Barrett, Harris Drover, Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Luca Haas, Rose Landry, Original Children of Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov

Additional Tags:

Fluff and Smut, Pride Parades, Blow Jobs, Book 5: Role Model (Game Changers), Fluff and Angst, Depression, Soft Hockey Boys, Spoilers for Book 6: The Long Game (Game Changers), Hand Jobs, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Friendship, Ottawa Centaurs (Game Changers), Ottawa Centaurs: the gayest team in the NHL, Blushing Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov Loves Shane Hollander, Shane Hollander Loves Ilya Rozanov, Written before Heated Rivalry (TV)

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2025-07-19 Updated: 2026-02-08 Words: 7,255 Chapters: 8/?

a series of tender moments

Summary

a collection of unrelated short fics, 1k words or less!

1. Harris picks Troy's outfit for the Ottawa pride parade (rated E)

2. Ilya wakes up crying and Shane comforts him (rated E)

3. Harris gets competitive at bar trivia (rated T)

4. Luca Haas sees *the* FanMail video and has a minor breakdown, but gets unexpected emotional support (rated G)

5. Rose Landry visits the cottage, they get drunk and tease Shane (rated E, but no on-page sex, just references to it)

6. Ficlet prompt: Shane/Ilya + skinny dipping (rated M)

7. Ficlet prompt: Troy/Harris + picnic (rated G)

8. Ficlet prompt: Shane/Ilya + argument with a family member ft. Hollanov kids (rated G)

Notes

Chapter 1

Chapter Notes

This came out of a ficlet Friday challenge on Tumblr, but it got a little long. The theme: Ways to show you love them, the prompt: Fixing their appearance.

This is my first time writing only Harris/Troy! I love them so dearly.

“Babe! Get out here! I want to see!” Harris called from the armchair in their bedroom.

“I don’t know, Harris, this doesn’t seem appropriate!” Troy calls back from inside their walk-in closet.

“It’s the Pride parade, appropriate isn’t really a concern! Come onnnn!”

Harris had put together an outfit for Troy to wear on the Centaurs float in Ottawa’s Pride parade the next day. It also happened to be Troy’s very first Pride, and Harris couldn’t let his boyfriend wear some boring basic t-shirt and jeans. Not when he looked like that .

“Fine! I’ll show you, but I can’t wear this out of the house, that’s crazy Harris.”

As he spoke, Troy walked back into the bedroom and Harris’s jaw went slack.

Troy was wearing a pair of cut-off jean shorts with a 5-inch inch inseam, which stretched over his glorious, sculpted thighs. Harris had taken an old pair of jeans from Troy’s drawer and cut them himself, and damn, it was the right move. 

He had also taken it upon himself to cut off the sleeves and several inches off the bottom of a Centaurs pride t-shirt from a few years ago, making what Harris thought to be a perfectly reasonable crop top. And sure, he also got a long-sleeve fishnet shirt for Troy to wear under the crop top, but it was Pride. It would almost be inappropriate to not wear fishnet something.

Even knowing what to expect, seeing the look all together on Troy made Harris’s heart fall into his stomach and his dick start to swell.

“Holy shit, Troy.”

“Really?” Troy said with disbelief. “You like this?"

“Are you kidding me?? LOOK at you. You’re like a wet dream come to life. I’m… I almost can’t believe you’re real.”

Troy blushed, “Shut up, you’re ridiculous.” He turned away from Harris to look at himself in the full-length mirror, holding his arms out wide, causing his shirt to ride up even higher, showing off his muscular back under the fishnet.

“You’re ridiculously HOT.” Harris walked up behind him and wrapped his hands around to rub up Troy’s partially-displayed abs. His voice was awe-struck. “Maybe you’re right, I don’t know if I want all of gay Ottawa to see you like this.”

Troy turned around in Harris’s arms, and Harris moved his hands down to slide into Troy’s back pockets.

“Well, in that case, maybe I do want to wear this. I want them all to see me with you , because no other man could come close to competing with you.”

Harris thunked his head down onto Troy’s shoulder, “You have got to stop saying stuff like that to me when we need to leave the house in 10 minutes.”

Troy laughed and pulled Harris’s face up, cradling it in his hands.

“I can’t stop saying stuff like that, because I’m thinking it every single second.”

He leaned down and kissed Harris, slow and sensual, sliding his tongue into Harris’s mouth and pulling lightly on his bottom lip with his teeth. They stayed that way for a couple of minutes, a slow, leisurely makeout with no real destination.

Eventually, Harris pulled away, a bit breathless and lips swollen. 

“We really should stop, we’re going to be late meeting the guys for drinks.”

“I don’t care.” Troy said, placing another deep kiss on Harris’s lips. “We can be late, because I need you right now.”

“How can I argue with that?” Harris grinned and let Troy kiss him again and push him back towards the bed. 

Harris bumped into the edge of the bed, never breaking their kiss. Harris sat, and Troy peeled off the crop top. He reached down to remove the fishnet shirt too, but Harris grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Leave it on?” Harris asked, then licked his lips.

“Really?” Troy asked.

“Fuck yeah.”

Troy laughed and grinned wickedly, before sinking to his knees in front of Harris. “Take your clothes off for me.”

Harris stood, holding eye contact as much as he could while undressing. Troy’s eyes were burning with heat, and Harris couldn’t move fast enough. He sat back down and ran a hand through Troy’s thick hair with a fond smile.

“I want you to think about this tomorrow when I’m wearing this in the Parade,” Troy rumbled before descending onto Harris’s already-hard cock and licking a long stripe from base to tip.

Harris shuddered and said, “I don’t know if I’ll ever stop thinking about this.” He ended the sentence with a gasp as Troy took the head of his cock in his mouth and sucked.

Harris lost the ability to speak after that, as Troy started to suck him all the way down to the base. His cock pushed up against the back of Troy’s throat, eliciting a long moan. Harris gazed in awe as Troy pushed his nose against the tuft of hair at the base of Harris’s cock. Troy looked Harris in the eye as he slowly pulled back, then took all of Harris deep again. Troy had told Harris how much he loved deepthroating him and pushing his limits, but Harris was still in disbelief every time Troy did it. 

Troy pulled off and Harris whined at the loss, the cool air of the room hitting his wet cock. But he realized Troy did it so he could unbutton his shorts and reach his hand in to stroke himself.

“Fuck babe,” Harris whimpered. “You’re so beautiful.”

The sight of Troy in those slutty shorts and fishnet top, with his hand on his long, hard dick was overwhelming Harris. He was aching to come and it wouldn’t take long. He carded his hand through Troy’s hair again and whispered, “Please, Troy.”

Troy got back to work, jerking himself fast while he bobbed on Harris’s cock, stroking his other hand up to meet his mouth with every move. Both of Harris’s hands were in Troy’s hair now, gently caressing him as his head bobbed.

“I’m… oh shit, Troy… I’m gonna come,” Harris breathed the words out heavily between moans.

Troy took him deep again, swallowing around the head and swirling his tongue along the length, and Harris gripped his hair a little tighter before jerking his hips slightly and blissfully releasing into Troy’s throat with another whimpered cry of, “Troy!”

Troy held there even after swallowing, and Harris continued to stroke his hair and he jerked himself faster until he came, moaning around Harris’s softening cock, spilling onto his fishnet-covered stomach. 

He pulled off slowly, breathing hard and licking his lips. Looking down at the mess on his shirt, Troy cursed, “Fuck, I ruined it.”

Harris laughed, still dazed from coming so hard, “It looks great to me."

“Shut up,” Troy laughed along with him. He got to his feet and padded over to the bathroom. Harris pulled on his boxer briefs and followed. 

“You can let it soak in the sink while we’re gone, and if we lay it out, it should be dry in time to wear it tomorrow.” Harris instructed.

“Yeah, now I have to wear it in the parade.” Troy grinned at Harris.

“I think you’re going to have to wear it a lot more often, babe,” Harris giggled, and grinned back.

Chapter 2

Chapter Summary

part 2 of the ficlet prompts. prompt: 💛 helping them sleep, shane/ilya.

iyla wakes up crying, cute little hurt/comfort for our depressed boy and his soft husband.

Chapter Notes

Shane’s 6:00am alarm trilled, as it did most days, and he got up to turn it off before snuggling back into bed. They didn’t have a game today, and they’d had a late night celebrating a big win over Toronto, first at the bar, then at home. So they could sleep at least until the sunrise.

Shane was surprised to find Ilya awake and looking at him when he turned to his side — normally Ilya slept through the alarm this early with no issues.

“Hey,” Shane whispered with a little smile before seeing a pained expression on Ilya’s face. Was he crying? “Oh, hey, come here, what’s wrong?”

Ilya didn’t say anything, but buried his head in Shane’s chest as Shane wrapped his arms around his husband, holding him tight and gently stroking a hand up and down his back. Ilya was heaving silent sobs into Shane’s embrace, and Shane started to feel the damp press of tears on his bare chest. He leaned down and planted a long kiss on the crown on Ilya’s head, and just let him cry it out. 

Shane had a lingering fear in the back of his mind that this was somehow his fault. Was he snuggling Ilya wrong? Did he do something last night that upset him? But he shoved that internal fear away — he knew this was just life with depression and grief. All he could do was hold his husband until he was done.

After a few minutes, Ilya’s breathing became steadier and he pulled his head up, watery eyes looking up at Shane. 

“Sorry I got snot all over you,” Ilya grumbled in a soft, barely-awake voice. 

Shane shook his head with a small smile, “Never be sorry, you can get your snot on me any time.”

Ilya laughed lightly, sadness still in his eyes, but clearly past the worst of whatever had come over him.

“Did you have a bad dream?” Shane asked, quickly adding, “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” 

“Maybe… maybe later I can talk about it.” Ilya sighed.

“Okay, whatever you need.” Shane kissed him softly on the lips, feeling the tears still lingering on Ilya’s face. He didn’t expect Ilya to deepen the kiss, but he held Shane to him, opening his mouth to invite Shane’s tongue in. 

They tangled their legs together, and Shane could feel Ilya hard and pressing into his hip, ever so slightly grinding into him.

Shane broke the kiss to ask, “Are you sure you’re okay?” He didn’t want to jump into sex if Ilya was on the verge of crying again.

“Yes, lyubov,” Ilya nodded slightly. “Just need to feel you before we sleep again.”

Shane didn’t question him, but did move to slide down the bed. He would take care of Ilya with his mouth, if he couldn’t comfort him with words. 

But Ilya pulled him back up and said, “No. Stay here. Want to kiss you.” He took Shane’s hand and slid it under the band of his boxer briefs, then connected their mouths again in a slow and sloppy kiss.

Shane took the hint, only pulling his hand back up to spit in it, then got to work stroking Ilya, who sighed into Shane’s mouth and shoved his tongue in deeper.

It was quick work. The physical intensity of sobbing and being aroused must not be that different, biologically, when everything is heightened, because Ilya was right on the edge. 

Shane pushed Ilya so he was on his back, and propped himself up on an elbow to lean over him, his other hand pumping steadily. Not stroking fast, but holding tight just the way Ilya liked. In less than a minute, Ilya groaned into Shane’s mouth and Shane felt the heat of Ilya’s release in his hand. He slowed, keeping their mouths connected as he stroked Ilya through every last spasm. 

They finally broke apart, and Shane looked down at his beautiful husband, who looked serene, heavy lids drooping, and said, “Give me one second.”

He carefully pulled his hand from Ilya’s cock, leaned over to grab a couple of wet-wipes from the nightstand, and quickly cleaned them both up. Then Shane snuggled up to Ilya again, pulling his head back into his chest, and resumed rubbing a soothing rhythm down his back.

Ilya moved into Shane’s embrace without protest, but slurred sleepily into Shane’s chest, “What about you? Let me—”

But Shane cut him off. “Shhh. Go back to sleep.” And when he looked down, Ilya’s eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open, and his breaths even — fast asleep.

Chapter End Notes

one more of these prompts to come, and I'll probably keep adding more little ficlets/drabbles/shorties that don't fit anywhere else.

thank you for reading!!!!!!!!

Chapter 3

Chapter Summary

part 3 of the ficlet prompts. prompt: 💙 Backing them up in an altercation, troy/harris

harris gets a little competitive at bar trivia

Chapter Notes

I interpreted "altercation" very loosely for this prompt to keep it light and fluffy. no smut this time.

the premise is based on my headcanon that eventually troy gets his own cottage near shane's and the four of them hang out in the summers.

planning on doing some more ficlets here and there while i work on some longer ones too!

“And the answer to question 19 is: Fleming Willard! Fleming Willard was the last captain of the Ottawa Centaurs to get 4 hat tricks in one season, all the way back in 1964. That puts team Zamboners in first place, followed up by team My Two Cent-aurs in a close second, and The Benchwarmers in third. It’s still anyone’s game with one question left! Everyone, come get your score sheets! We’ll take a 5 minute break, so grab another round.”

Troy hardly heard anything the trivia host, Kevin, said after “Fleming Willard” because Harris had started shouting in protest. 

“That’s wrong! It’s not Fleming Willard! What the hell!? He can’t be serious! Fleming Willard retired in 1963! I have to say something to him, this is ridiculous.” Harris got up to march over to the host stand, but Troy grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

“Are you sure, Harris? I feel like he would be right, he can use the internet, we can’t.” Troy tried to be the voice of reason — his easygoing and kind boyfriend turned into a ruthless competitor when it came to hockey trivia night. 

“ How could you !?” Harris gasped dramatically, ”I thought you loved me! But I guess not, because someone who loves me would never question my knowledge of Centaurs trivia.” 

Harris might have had a few too many ciders tonight, because he was nearing wasted-level drunk, and his voice got louder and louder as he kept on his tirade. “Now let me go! I need to correct this moronic excuse for a trivia host.”

He struggled to free himself, but Troy did have the advantage of being a professional athlete who lifted weights for his job almost every day. 

“We’re only one point behind, why don’t we just—” Troy started, but Harris cut him off.

“Just what? Just LOSE? Because I know the right answer stupid and Kevin doesn’t? I don’t think so. Back me up, Shane!

Shane had been pointedly not looking at the couple as they argued, and he sputtered a bit at hearing his name. Ilya laughed beside him, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

“Me? Um… well, I don’t know. I mean, Harris is right, Kevin was wrong.”

“SEE?” Harris pointed at Shane triumphantly.

Troy sighed and let go of Harris’s arm, but followed closely behind him as he stomped towards the back of the room. He had never seen Harris this agitated, he was usually the calming presence in the room when Troy was freaking out about something. Sure, he’d seen Harris passionate at trivia, but never like this. Maybe it’s because they always won. 

Troy almost wondered if they were kind of cheating by being a team of actual NHL players and people who worked for the team. Of course, he’d never suggest that to Harris. His boyfriend didn’t get to compete on the ice, so this was where his hockey passion could shine. Troy wouldn’t take that away from him — but he also didn’t want him fighting with the guy who was basically a friend of theirs, and very kindly didn’t blow their cover when three NHL stars started coming to his bar trivia in rural Ontario for a few weeks in the summer.

"KEVIN!” Harris yelled unnecessarily, Kevin was right there.

“What’s up, Harris?” he replied tentatively.

“Patrick Krentz.”

“Huh?”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you host hockey trivia. The answer to question 14 is Patrick. Krentz. That’s the captain who scored 4 hat tricks in 1964. You’re wrong, we’re right, and I demand that you correct the score sheets.” Harris stomped his foot to emphasize his point.

“Um, sorry Harris, but it’s definitely Fleming Willard.”

Troy thought he saw steam coming out of Harris’s ears, so he decided to step in before this turned ugly.

“Uh, sorry Kevin, but could you maybe double check that?”

“Yeah, Kevin ,” Harris’s voice was dripping with sarcasm, and Troy almost laughed — Harris had turned into a totally different person, and Troy kind of wanted to see what angry Harris was like in bed later.

“I mean… sure, Troy, yeah, I can do that.” Kevin pulled over his laptop.

“So you’ll look it up for the NHL star and not for me? Figures.” Harris rolled his eyes.

Kevin blushed a deep red and Troy felt so bad. They may never be able to come back here.

“Oh…” Kevin looked apologetically at Harris, “You’re right. It was Krentz. Sorry about that, let me get everyone’s score sheets back.”

“HA!” Harris yelled triumphantly. “See, Kevin, I knew we were friends! Thanks, buddy!” 

And like a switch had flipped, Harris leaned up and smacked a kiss on Troy’s cheek, and said, “Thanks babe! You’re the best,” in his normal, cheerful voice, and then led them back to their table.

Troy was completely baffled, but overwhelmed with affection for this adorable man. When they got back to the table, he pulled Harris in for a longer kiss, and whispered in his ear, “Hold on to some of that passion for when we get home.”

Chapter 4

Chapter Summary

Luca Haas sees *the* FanMail video and has a minor breakdown, but gets unexpected emotional support.

Chapter Notes

I'm working on so many other things, but this little Luca idea wouldn't leave my mind and I had to get it out!

Luca Haas was having a weird day. 

Well, if he was honest with himself, he was having a weird life. 

He’d known for a while that he would end up in the NHL, that wasn’t the weird part. The weird part was getting drafted to the team where his idol, childhood crush, and object of minor obsession was the captain.

It was kind of impossible to hide how star-struck Luca was by Ilya, and pretty much the whole team ribbed him about it regularly. It was also kind of impossible to hide his epic and devastating crush from Ilya, who clearly saw right through him. Thankfully, the rest of the guys were too oblivious to notice the way he looked at Ilya.

But Luca had a very strong suspicion that there was one other person who knew about his crush. It was essentially Harris’s job to observe the team, so it shouldn’t be surprising that he often caught Luca gazing longingly at the hottest living person he’d ever laid eyes on. But above all else, Harris was kind, so he usually just smiled at Luca and directed his attention elsewhere.  

It wasn’t unusual for a gay guy like Luca to be crushing on a straight professional athlete like Ilya. 

But that’s what made today particularly weird. Because Ilya Rozanov was, apparently, not straight.

Luca had gone on a rollercoaster of emotions since watching that FanMail video from Hayden Pike. First was disbelief — this couldn’t possibly be real. Then shock. Then for the briefest and most beautiful moment, hope. Hope that maybe there was a chance, maybe his crush wasn’t destined to be unrequited forever. But that was rapidly followed by a dawning realization that he would never ever have a chance. Because the look on Ilya’s face before he kissed Shane Hollander was one of pure and complete adoration. 

Luca wasn’t proud of it, in fact he felt pretty guilty about it, but he could not stop rewatching that kiss. He logged out of YouTube so there would be no trace of his creepiness and found a version that had zoomed in on Ilya as he held Hollander’s face in his hands and dove into the most passionate kiss Luca had ever seen. It blew all other kisses out of the water. And Luca’s heart ached.

After a 15th rewatch, he finally tossed his phone onto his couch and sank down until he was flat on his back, staring up at the textured ceiling of his apartment. He didn’t really know how to process all the information that had been thrown at him in the last hour.

Ilya is gay. Or bi. Queer of some kind. And he is (theoretically) in love with Shane Hollander. Who is basically perfect, so it makes sense that he’d be the only person good enough to be looked at like that by Ilya Rozanov.

Luca desperately wanted to call his sister, but it was the middle of the night in Switzerland. She was the only person he could talk to about any of this. He wasn’t really out to anyone else, and even if he was, he would be mortified if anyone knew about his inconvenient infatuation.

His phone buzzed with a text. It was pretty late, after 8pm, so he wasn’t sure what it could be… Must be an update on the team group chat. Luca was surprised to see a text just to him — from Troy Barrett?

Troy: Hey Haasy! Want to grab a drink with me and Harris? We’re going to Monk’s, and I know you live nearby too.

This was the first text Luca had ever received from Troy outside the team chat — they weren’t exactly friends. He’d thought about trying to connect with Troy more after he had come out, perhaps he would be someone Luca could confide in. But something held him back, maybe his envy over Troy’s own love story playing out over the last several months.

But he should bond with his teammates. He should make more of an effort to make friends. So he pulled himself off the couch and into some more presentable clothes, and made his way to Monk’s.

It was finally warming up a bit in Ottawa, and Luca appreciated the freedom of not having to wear a coat. He loved the winter, but springtime was his favorite. Longer days with more sunshine, playoff and world championship hockey, and now, the promise of returning home for the summer. 

The fresh air was doing him good — he was less wrapped up in the spiral of emotions he’d been thrown into by that video. But he also wondered if Troy and Harris had seen it, if they were going to want to talk about it.

When Luca walked into the familiar bar, Harris waved him over to a table towards the back. It was a quiet week night, with a few clusters of people at tables and some guys at the bar watching the Bears play the Admirals on the TVs.

“Hey Luca! So glad you could meet us!” Harris was so warm and cheerful, Luca couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face.

“Hello Harris, Troy, thank you for inviting me.” Luca took a seat.

“Totally, we have been meaning to invite you to hang out, we all live so close.” Troy smiled at him as well, if a little less brightly than Harris. Luca wondered if Harris had been the one pushing for this, because Troy seemed to like keeping to himself, but he appreciated it nonetheless. “I’m going to grab us some drinks, what do you want?”

“Whatever beer you’re having is fine, thank you.” Luca replied.

Troy nodded and walked over to the bar.

“So,” Harris looked at Luca with a soft expression, and oh. This is what this was. Luca sighed, waiting for Harris to continue. “How are you doing? With… you know… the video?”

Luca sighed again.

“I suppose I cannot pretend that I don’t know what you’re talking about, can I?’

Harris laughed. “You could, but we’d get there eventually.”

“In this case, I am doing weird.”

Harris laughed again, this time more deeply, and said, “I think we’re all doing weird, bud!”

“Yes, it is…” Luca trailed off. “It’s fucking weird!”

“Oh my god! I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear!”

Luca blushed. “I do sometimes!” he protested. “Mostly on the ice.”

“I love it,” Harris insisted. “And yeah, it’s weird. But I was kind of asking about you specifically.” Harris looked at him knowingly. 

Luca noted that Troy was taking a suspiciously long time getting their beer. They had definitely planned this. How mortifying. But, he did really want to talk to someone about the mess going on in his head.

“Me specifically? I am the same as always. Wanting what I cannot have. Only now I know there is a different reason why I cannot have it.”

Harris frowned at him sympathetically. “I’m so sorry, Luca.”

“There is nothing to be sorry for. I know I am longing for something out of reach. But it is… it is odd to think that it would be in reach in some other universe.” Now that he had started, Luca had so much to say. “I know that Ilya knows how I feel, he knows everything somehow, it’s like he can read my mind. And now that I know this about him, it makes me feel even more stupid for all those times he teased me about having his poster. But what am I to do? There is nothing to do but hope I can move on, and be supportive of my captain.”

Luca nodded once, with a frown and furrowed brow for emphasis. 

“Wow,” Luca spoke again, looking at Harris. “That was very cathartic to say out loud.”

“Good,” Harris said with a warm smile and a hand on Luca's shoulder. “I was hoping I could be someone you could vent to.”

“Thank you, Harris.”

“Anytime. And I mean that. An unrequited crush can be very painful.” He looked over at Troy with such fondness that Luca started to get sad again. “And we’re here for you, me and Troy both.”

“So, you told Troy about my not so secret crush?”

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have! But… we tell each other everything.”

At that, Luca thunked his forehead down on the table. “Everyone is in love but me.” He groaned. “Troy can come back with the beer now, please.”

Harris huffed a laugh, “Yeah, let’s get you a drink.”

Troy returned with a large pitcher and glasses, and Luca took a long swig of beer.

“Sorry that Harris told me your, uh, secret.” Troy grimaced apologetically.

“It is fine,” Luca sighed. “I am hopeless, now you know.”

“You’re not! I get it. Ilya is hot. But you could do so much better.” Troy insists.

“I don’t see how.” Luca groaned.

“He’s right!” Harris insisted. “Ilya is hot, sure, but he’s not right for you Luca.”

“Wow, thank you for that.” Luca mutters.

“No, what I mean is, Ilya is too brash for you. You need someone on your own level, who appreciates your art and doesn’t want to get into psychosexual rivalry kinks with you. Which is what I’m assuming is going on with Ilya and Shane Hollander.”

Luca shouted a burst of laughter at that, finally starting to feel relaxed. “Yes, maybe not any psychosexual anything for me. But I wouldn’t mind someone who looks like that… or who looks at me the way he looked at Hollander. Wow.”

“Yeah, damn. That was something else.” Troy said. “But Harris is right, Haasy. You’re going to find someone perfect for you. And in the meantime, we can be your wingmen.”

Luca felt warmth spread across his chest at Troy’s offer. He didn’t know if he was ready for anything, but the fact that he might actually have friends here, friends who cared and wanted to help him and be there for him, that was enough for now. 

He looked at them across the table, and said earnestly, “Thank you for inviting me out tonight. I needed it. You are good friends.”

Harris grinned back at him. “Of course, we thought you might need it.”

Troy added, “We’re all going to need to be there for Roz, because this thing is blowing up, but just know that me and Harris are here for you too, okay?”

Luca thought he might cry. He couldn’t have imagined that the devastation he’d felt a couple of hours ago would be replaced by this sense of friendship and community, one that he didn’t even realize he’d been missing. He gulped down the rest of his beer and said, “I’m getting the next round.” 

By the end of the night, they were laughing so hard and having so much fun, Luca had forgotten why he was there in the first place. And for the first time in his rookie season, he felt like he belonged here, in this city and on this team.

Chapter 5

Chapter Summary

Inspired by a conversation about just how much Shane blushes, how much Ilya loves to make him blush, and how Ilya and Rose probably gang up on Shane to tease him.

Chapter Notes

Wrote this in an hour, no beta, enjoy 🫡

Ilya returned to the couch on the deck at the cottage, handing Shane a glass of water, careful not to spill his own glass of vodka. He squeezed in between the armrest and his husband, and asked, “What are we laughing about?”

Rose sat across from them in an armchair, heaving with laughter about whatever had been said while Ilya was inside. He looked to Shane, who was making his favorite angry kitten face, and guessed at the source of Rose’s amusement.

“Talking about Shane’s bedroom performance with you again?” Ilya tweaked an eyebrow and kissed Shane on the cheek sympathetically.

Rose, who was staying with them for a week between jobs, was on her fourth (maybe fifth?) glass of wine. At Ilya’s comment, she burst into another round of raucous laughter, and Ilya couldn’t help but join in. 

“You’re supposed to be on my side!” Shane shoved away from Ilya, pouting. “You’re both drunk, I’m going inside.”

He got up and stomped into the kitchen, Anya trotting at his heels, probably hoping for food. 

“Noooo, Shane, don’t goooo!” Rose called, but clearly didn’t have the energy to get up and go after him. 

“He will be back. Does not trust us to be alone together,” Ilya rolled his eyes with a little laugh.

“I should stop torturing him,” she sighed.

“Yes,” Ilya nodded, “Is my job now.” 

He and Shane had just celebrated their 3rd wedding anniversary, so it had really been his job for 13 years. But despite that, Ilya still felt a twinge of jealousy that the beautiful movie star in front of him had also been intimate with his husband. He knew it wasn’t fair, Ilya had been with hundreds of women — and a handful of other men — over the years, far more than Shane. But the fact that Rose and Shane were still such good friends got under his skin.

“And he loves it.” Ilya added.

“Ugh, I’m sure he does. He loves everything you do that I can’t do.” Rose sighed and flung herself dramatically back in her chair. 

It made Ilya wonder if Rose still harbored some feelings for Shane. And maybe it was the vodka, but Ilya was overcome with smugness, and without thinking he said, “You mean sex things?”

Rose giggled, “Well, yeah, duh.” 

She sipped her wine, then bit her lip, and Ilya knew she was dying to ask him something about Shane and sex.

“What’s…” she started. “What’s he like?”

“Shane?”

“Yeah.”

“During sex?”

“Yeah….” she blushed and pressed her lips together, looking guilty but also so curious.

“You already know this.” Ilya shrugged. He’d never forget it.

Rose scoffed. “Sure, I know what he looks like naked, but not what he’s like when he is enjoying sex.” 

Ilya laughed now, scrunching his eyes tight with how big he smiled. 

“Is true!” Ilya howled. It was definitely the vodka. “Only I know that. And he really enjoys it.” He pursed his lips into a self-satisfied smile. 

Rose gulped down the rest of her wine and leaned forward in her seat. 

She waggled her eyes conspiratorially and said, “So tell me.”

“Tell her what?” Shane had returned, a suspicious look in his eyes. Ilya was right, he wouldn’t let them be alone for too long — fearing this exact conversation, most likely.

Rose turned to Shane. “What it’s like when you're actually enjoying sex!” She dissolved into another fit of giggles, and Ilya had to bite his tongue to stop himself from laughing.

Shane’s blush started in the apples of his cheeks and spread to his ears and neck as he sputtered, trying to find a response. Ilya loved him like this, he couldn’t help how beautiful his husband was when he blushed.

“You wouldn’t.” He rasped, frozen in place.

“What is the problem, lyubov?” Ilya asked, struggling to contain his smirk. “Everyone here has touched your dick.”

“Oh my god.” Shane groaned. “I hate you both.”

“You love us!!” Rose tittered. “And we love you! And I want to know what it’s like when your dick stays hard!”

Ilya nearly dropped his glass of vodka, laughing so hard he might start to cry. He loved drunk Rose.

“Fuck this, I’m leaving for real.” Shane stomped back into the house, not stopping in the kitchen, but walking toward the front door.

“No, Shane!” Ilya called, and this time chased after him after carefully setting down his glass. “We will stop, come back!”

Ilya reached him in the big open living room, which was dark but for the light streaming in from the deck. He reached for Shane’s arm and turned him around with a tug. 

“I am sorry, and Rose is very drunk. I think she is jealous of me, so she started asking things. I did not say anything.” He kissed the tip of Shane’s nose.

“She’s jealous of you?” Shane looked puzzled, like he never could have imagined such a thing. He really didn’t know how special he was, how loveable, did he?

“Of course, you are the one that got away.” Ilya pulled Shane close and wrapped his arms around him.

“Hardly,” Shane scoffed, nuzzling into Ilya’s neck. “We were only really together for a few months.”

“Nobody compares to you, Shane,” Ilya whispered into his ear and felt goosebumps bloom on Shane’s neck and arms. “I am sure Rose is not the only one who is jealous.”

He felt Shane smile into his neck then press a kiss there. When Ilya looked back out the floor-to-ceiling windows facing the deck, he saw that Rose was watching them with a fond expression on her face, maybe a little sad, too.

“Rose is sad and alone, just let me tell her how fast you come when I suck on your balls and finger you? Will cheer her up!”

Shane jerked out of Ilya’s arms and shoved him away, pointing a threatening finger at him, face bright pink again. “Don’t you dare.”

Ilya leaned in and kissed the tip of Shane’s pointer finger, and Shane’s scrunched up angry kitten face was back.

“No, I would not.” Ilya kissed him on the cheek, then turned on his heel back to the deck. “I just love to see you blush, moy kotik.” 

Chapter End Notes

I'm working on another chapter of My Hopes are Prone to Elevate, this just needed to get out of my brain urgently apparently.

Thank you for reading!!! ❤️

Chapter 6

Chapter Summary

Ficlet prompt: Shane/Ilya + skinny dipping

Chapter 7

Chapter Summary

Ficlet prompt: Troy/Harris + picnic & 'Can we just stay like this forever?’

“Where are you taking us?” Harris laughed as they turned another corner down a path through the park.

A few steps ahead of him, Troy turned back to grin at his boyfriend and the large floppy dog ambling along beside him. “Just a little bit farther, I promise.”

“I usually don’t mind a bit of a hike, but I’m getting pretty hungry, babe,” Harris said, sounding like he was trying not to complain and mostly failing. Chiron barked as if in agreement with Harris.

Troy just rolled his eyes, hiked his backpack up, and kept walking. While Troy would be perfectly happy to spend his summer training, swimming in the pool at their new house, cozying up with Harris in their new king-sized bed, and not deviating from that routine — he wanted to treat Harris right and do all the things a good boyfriend should do. Especially while he had the time before the hockey season started.

So he’d planned what he hoped would be a romantic picnic — scouting a secluded location surrounded by nature, packing a couple delicious sandwiches and snacks from the fancy sandwich shop Shane recommended along with a bottle of wine, and timing it perfectly so they could enjoy dinner and get back to the car before the sun set.

“Okay, we’re here,” Troy said, stopping at the clearing he’d found last week.

Soft green grass stretched in front of them for several yards, almost completely surrounded by tall, lush trees.

“Wow, this is literally a perfect picnic spot,” Harris marveled while he leant down to let Chiron off his leash. The dog bound forward, running the perimeter of the clearing. “How did you find this place?”

“You know how I’ve been going for long runs lately?” Troy asked, a bit shy.

“Yeah…”

“Well, I’ve been trying to find a place for us to have a picnic for a while, and I finally found this one,” he said with a small shrug and a half-smile.

Harris’s smile was full and complete, taking over his whole face.

“Babe, why? I mean, I love this, and it really is perfect, but you didn’t need to do all that.” Harris rubbed Troy’s arm warmly while he spoke.

“I don’t know, I just want to make everything perfect for you, I guess,” Troy replied. “You’ve made my life so much better than I ever thought it could be, so I want to, you know, try and do the same for you, if I can.”

“Troy,” Harris reached up and stroked a hand over Troy’s jaw, his eyes soft and so warm. “Just being with you is a dream come true. But I won’t say no to a romantic picnic. Thank you.”

He leaned in to kiss Troy, who instantly opened his mouth and deepened the kiss — until Chiron nosed his way between them and barked happily.

“Okay, let’s eat,” Harris laughed. “But hold onto that thought for later.”

****

A few hours later, as the sun started to descend towards the horizon, Troy lay back on the picnic blanket, one arm behind his head, the other absently combing through Harris’s hair.

Harris rested his head against Troy’s stomach; they were both wine-warm as they lay in comfortable silence, watching the light breeze dance through the trees above them. Chiron was curled up next to Harris, fast asleep after their hike and hours spent chasing birds and the occasional squirrel around this secluded clearing.

Turning his head to look up at the man beneath him, Harris’s heart swelled with love and appreciation. He didn’t know how his life had turned into this fairy tale — a year ago, he’d thought Troy Barrett was a beautiful asshole who was best friends with one of the most hateable players in the NHL. And, honestly, he was that asshole. But Harris had had no idea how thoughtful, sweet, and funny Troy was underneath that mask, and now that he did… well, he couldn’t quite believe his luck that he was the person Troy chose to share all those wonderful parts of himself with.

“Can we just stay like this forever?” He asked, not sure why he was whispering, but not wanting to disrupt the perfect peaceful moment.

Troy propped his head up slightly to look down at Harris with a soft smile. “I wish we could. I wish I could bottle this moment up and hold onto it when I’m on road trips and you’re stuck here in the snow this winter.”

“Yeah,” Harris sighed, and twisted himself until he was looming over Troy and gazing down at his sparkling blue eyes. “But I guess we’ll have days like this every summer now, right?”

“Right,” Troy grinned back up at him. “Every summer.”

Chapter 8

Chapter Summary

Ficlet prompt: Shane/Ilya + argument with a family member

Chapter Notes

Prompt from princebutt featuring her Hollanov kiddos, Irina and Oliver!

“Obviously she will be 81 like her Papa, she is named for my mom,” Ilya scoffed.

“But don’t you think it makes more sense to be 24? Her last name is Hollander, and she looked exactly like me,” Shane pointed out. “Plus, 24 was my dad’s number, she’s carrying on the Hollander legacy.”

Ilya rolled his eyes. “Her last name is Rozanova and Hollander, in case you are forgetting. She will be 81.”

“No, she’s going to be 24, just like her dad and grandpa.”

“You are not winning this, Hollander.”

“It’s not a competition.” Shane folded his arms. “And yes I am.”

“We will see,” Ilya smiled smugly and turned to look for their daughter, who had just climbed out of the pool.

Irinia Rozanova-Hollander was about to join her 8U hockey team, and was old enough to pick her own jersey number for the first time. Shane was certain that Rina would pick 24 like him — he may or may not have been subtly nudging her in this direction since birth. While she had both 24 and 81 Centaurs jerseys at home, Shane would always opt to dress her in his number, just to get her used to it.

He was secretly grateful that their daughter seemed to have inherited his (and his mother’s) hockey obsession, because her older brother Oliver truly could not care less. They’d made sure he able to skate and then let him opt out of hockey at age 5 when he’d begged to go to art class instead. Hockey was a family thing, but it was really a Daddy and Rina thing, and Shane just knew she would choose his number.

Ilya was very confident though, as he yelled, “Irinka, come back over here!”

She walked up to the table and grabbed a watermelon slice, then asked, “What’s up, Papa?” before taking a bite.

“Is time to choose your number,” He gestured to the registration form on his tablet. “You will be 81 like me, right?”

Before she could answer, Shane jumped in, “No, you want to be 24 like we talked about, don’t you?”

“When did you talk about this? Are you trying to turn my daughter against me?” Ilya looked accusingly at Shane.

“We were just talking about how she gets to choose her number the other day, calm down,” Shane replied. “And she’s our daughter, thank you.”

Ilya opened his mouth to argue back, but Irina cut him off, “Daddy, I don’t want to be 24.”

“Ha!” Ilya laughed triumphantly.

“I’m not going to be 81 either, Papa,” she said with a dramatic eyeroll.

“What? You’re not?” Shane looked at Ilya in confusion and got a similar look back.

“Yeah, I’m going to be number 35, like uncle Hayden!” she said with cheerful bounce. “He said he’d give me $50 if I picked his number!”

And with that, she handed Shane her watermelon rind and jogged back over to the pool.