Summary:

“Just-” Ilya starts, intending to tease, the offer of a massage more about getting Hollander back in a more relaxed headspace than anything else, but then the wire-tight tension in the muscles under his fingers registers, and he frowns, pressing testingly before making a noise of disapproval. “Fuck, Hollander, you are secretly doing crime or what?”

“What?” Hollander asks, confused, starting to lift his head before Ilya pushes it back down absently, focused now on feeling out the knots Hollander seems to be completely made of. He’s felt tension in Hollander’s shoulders before, usually during coaxing little squeezes while coaching him through learning how to deep throat, but he’s always written it off as nerves from learning something new.

Now he wonders if Hollander is just nerves, period.

(the "ilya massages shane" fic inspired by hudson saying that playing shane made him sore because he was so tense all the time)