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Little One (Our Malyshka) by fizzfics
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-14
In which Shane and Ilya retire and adopt a little girl from Russia Angst/fluff/domestic bliss/cute family bits
- Part 1 of Our Malyshka
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 23,886
- Chapters:
- 20/20
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76588436
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Curiosity killed the cat, indeed. by Myyyr_miu
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-14
“Baby, there’s nothing I haven’t already told you… except maybe—” He glanced up. “For some reason, Shane has a Russian keyboard on his phone. Last week, when my phone died and I texted you from his, I noticed it. English, French… and Russian.” Oh. Shit. Jackie’s eyes lit up with interest. “A Russian keyboard? ” // Or: yet another fanfic about uncovering the true identity of the mysterious “Lily from Boston”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,791
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77674811
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The Thing About Jane by strange_ghost
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-14
The body remembers what the mind forgets. Three days after winning his first MVP award, Ilya Rozanov is critically injured in a serious car accident. Through the fog of head trauma, he struggles to remember certain details of his life, which sends him on a personal journey to find the whole truth.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,420
- Chapters:
- 7/7
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77672626
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beneath the surface by hollanderheaven (DivinelyDevyn)
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types
2026-01-13
“ a promise you’ll stay / and i start to believe . “ or Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander make their late-night TV debut together.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,725
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77596296
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“You fainted,” Ilya says. “You barely eat. And now you are-“ He gestures vaguely at the mirror, at Shane, at everything. “Explain.” Shane swallows. His heart is pounding again, but this time it’s not dizziness, it’s fear. Real, gut-deep fear. “I didn’t mean for it to happen,” he says. “I just… I needed to get better.” Ilya’s brow furrows. “You are the best center in the league.” Shane laughs weakly. “Yeah. On the ice.” *** Shane struggles with the hate he’s receiving online. He limits his eating, he overworks, trying to prove to the world, and himself, that he deserves Ilya.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,573
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77581566
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Shane Hollander's Guide to a Sexy Summer Staycation by SunsetMaiden
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-12
Shane basks in Ilya's decision to come to the cottage for all of thirty seconds before panic sets in... Excerpt: Yuna blinked at him. "You can't just go. You’re still recovering Shane. You’re in a sling for goodness sake.” “No, I know. I…” he cleared his throat. “I know. It’s just…” he trailed off, unable to come up with a single valid reason for the nonsense he was currently spouting. Well, nothing other than all the things he couldn’t say. Rozanov was coming! To Shane’s cottage. Everything on the precipice of changing when he didn’t have any vodka in the cabinet. In the freezer? The refrigerator? Where the hell was the vodka supposed to go? His dad sometimes drank vodka…why didn’t Shane ever pay attention to where it went? He should know this shit! His man was Russian!
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,971
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77530331
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The Part We Couldn't End by Ghostbash18
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-12
Shane and Ilya spend years telling themselves that they need to break it off. Secretly sleeping with your rival is not a sustainable habit, but neither one ever works up the courage to end it. Until Ilya's feelings get a little too involved and he has to cut ties, promising himself that he would only meet Shane as indifferent opponents during their games. No more Jane and Lily, no more sneaky links. Until Shane goes on Jimmy Fallon, wears his gorgeous little glasses, and gets on the floor in a way that breaks Ilya's paper thin resolve.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,968
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77536246
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“It’s one of your superstitions, right?” Hayden asked. “Like my hat. It’s your good luck shirt.” Shane felt a chill run down his spine. He hadn’t thought anyone would notice. In truth, he’d barely noticed himself. It wasn’t something he was actively doing. It wasn’t like his weight circuit or his diet or his night routine. It wasn’t meditation or yoga or cross-training. Those were all things he did with meticulous, painstaking purpose. This was just… this was something else. This wasn’t thought driven. If he was being honest, it barely had to do with hockey. It maybe was one of the only things in his life that didn’t have to do with hockey. If he was stressed, he wore the shirt and it made him feel a little bit better. It just so happened that most of the time he was stressed about something to do with hockey. That was it. It was just a feeling. A feeling of calm that came from Ilya Rozanov’s shirt. OR: Shane accidentally wore Ilya's shirt back to the hotel after it things started to feel Too Real. What if he kept the shirt? OR: 5 Times Someone Noticed Shane's New Favorite Shirt + 1 Time Shane Realized Ilya Still Had His Too
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 9,936
- Chapters:
- 6/6
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76991256
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Ilya finds a small tattoo on Shane's hip during their second meet up. Or They didn't cover Hudson's tattoo during the second meet up in episode 1, so canonically, Shane Hollander has a tattoo.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,002
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77484471
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Ilyas's head had ended up between his knees, his hands wrapping around the back of his helmet. Ilya couldn't keep the thoughts away. He tried to think of things that didn't relate to Shane, or his mother, or hockey. Grasping at the mental straws, he couldn't come up with anything that didn't relate to Shane in some way. He had completely taken over Ilyas' life. Every good memory he had had Shane in it. Ilya spiralled further, the rubber floor seeming to spin. He had undone his helmet, letting it clatter onto the floor. OR What if Ilya couldn't hold it together when Shane got hurt?
- Part 1 of Heated Rivalry - Angst Time
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,308
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77475086
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“What’s your favorite Russian word?” Ilya sits with his legs caging Shane in from behind, softly kissing the freckles behind his ears and down his neck. “You.” Shane doesn’t hesitate or have to think about it. It’s so simple, yet it means just about everything to him. “Without you I wouldn’t have a reason to love anything else.” His head tilts to say, angling awkwardly as he does his best to face Ilya and gauge his reaction. It’s subtle, but the twitch on the corner of his lips is enough for Shane to lean forward and press a kiss on Ilya's cheek. “Boring, right?” AKA... Ilya has something very important to ask, and Shane couldn't be more prepared to answer him.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,574
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77487016
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College AU! where Ilya and Shane are roommates and Shane is oblivious to Ilya’s flirting. Shane has thoughts about Ilya that he can't control, and he spirals wondering what it means for him, and his relationship with his roommate (nothing more), Ilya Rozanov. Or 5 times Ilya’s a great roommate + the 1 time he isn’t (+ a short epilogue chapter from Irina Rozanov's POV) Title from ‘The Spins’ by Mac Miller & Empire Of The Sun
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 18,820
- Chapters:
- 7/7
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76185691
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Then, with a smile in Shane’s voice, “That’s French, Ilya.” Ilya? Had Hayden heard that right? Shane definitely had to be making a joke. Or- or something. Right? And maybe Hayden would have believed that if Shane hadn’t known where Rozanov was a day before anyone else did. Russian… Lily… Ilya… ‘Oh my God’ was the only thought that crossed Hayden’s mind. His fingers gripped at the door, Shane’s head dipped close to the phone visible through the crack. It wasn’t possible. But, he just had a feeling. Something in Hayden’s brain was saying ‘no yeah, that’s Rozanov on the phone.’ Or Hayden Pike figures out Shane and Ilya's secret after overhearing a very consequential phone call. (This fic is mostly show compliant, with a couple details from the book thrown in. Some of it I changed completely for my own purposes.)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,086
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77347296
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I’m hearing your voice in a strange foreign language (if only I learned how to speak) by sinesolesileo
Heated Rivalry (TV)
2026-01-09
Where Shane exactly knows where he’s heard Ilya saying ‘’I love you’’ in Russian before. He’s the weird kid, after all. (inspired by hattrickhailey on Twitter!!!!)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,314
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77389521
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Shane gets drunk and decides to get a tattoo for his boyfriend, his boyfriend likes it. A lot. “This is such a stupid idea, you do realize that?” He did. He really fucking did, but it was also possibly the best idea he’d ever had. Hayden had been trying to talk him out of it for the last hour, since the idea had wiggled its way into Shane’s head - to no avail, obviously. They had gone out drinking, a rare feat for Shane, but it was the end of the season, they had made it to round two of the playoffs before Ilya and the raiders had knocked them out. He was bummed for a couple days, obviously, but they had played a hell of a season, and if Ilya managed to get another cup under his belt with the raiders before he moved to the Centaurs, it would be a good way to go. He would be proud of his boyfriend. The night had started pretty normal, Hayden and J.J. dragged him from his apartment, promising he wouldn’t pay for a single drink tonight (which didn’t really sway him, he was rich for fuck sake), but what did it was the promise to let him drunk ramble about his sexy, wonderful, cup winning (probably) boyfriend. And so he did. He had a couple beers, more than what he’d allow during the season, and talked their ear off. After having nobody to talk to about his gay awakening, and then tying down said gay awakening, it was good to finally have people he could rely on. Someone to sit and listen while he waxed poetic about Ilyas jawline while downing his 5th beer. Beer number 6 had been his tipping point. They had been on their way to their third bar (J.J. said it wasn’t fun unless they bar hopped the whole street) when the neon sign caught Shane’s attention. ‘Sirens Ink’ in bright blue letters ‘walk-ins’ flashing below it. He had never thought about getting a tattoo before, not that he didn’t like them. Ilyas collection had him drooling more than once, but he had never seen himself as the type of person to get something engraved on his body forever. He was too indecisive for that. But this. This was a good middle ground. His friend from high school, one of the few he had kept somewhat in contact with since becoming a household name, had posted an Instagram story about his new tattoo just last week. He had his bottom lip pulled down, revealing ‘YOLO’ in bold black letters. He had been so intrigued that he’d googled ‘inside lip tattoo’ and seen a bunch of people had done it. Most of his research had told him it hurt like hell, but it was funny seeing other peoples reactions, people didn’t often regret them, and if they did it wasn’t a big deal because people couldn’t see it unless they showed it off, the added bonus being it faded quick. At the time he had shrugged it off, and sent his friend a “cool!” DM. But walking past the shop had given him the idea, sure he couldn’t imagine getting something people would see, something people could judge just by glancing at him. But this, this he could hide. He could go about his day with nobody knowing he even had a tattoo. So here they were. Shane sitting in the chair, Hayden pacing back and forth just a few feet to his right, and J.J. attempting to hold his phone steady as the tattoo artist set up his station, Shane holding his bottom lip down for easy access, the stencil already in place. “You’re really going to do this aren’t you?” Hayden asked, stopping his movement and giving Shane a dejected look. Shane just shrugged and sent him the best smile he could with his bottom teeth on full display, ‘ROZANOV’ sitting pretty on his bottom lip. “He is going to lose it!” J.J. called from his other side, Shane wasn’t sure if he was referring to Hayden or Ilya but both was probably right. That had been another hard driving point for Shane, Ilya would lose his mind, he’d take one look at the tattoo and fuck Shane into next week. He was counting on it. The humor left Shane’s body as he heard the first buzz of the machine, sitting straighter and tugging on his lip that much more. “You ready?” The artist asked, a glint of humour in his own eyes. Shane just nodded stiffly and closed his eyes, preparing for the pain. —— It hadn’t taken half as long as Shane was banking on, thank god, but once he was done, the machine finally off, the room was silent. Shane still held his lip down, and looked toward his best friend who just rolled his eyes. He shrugged as if to say ‘well! Hows it look?’ To which Hayden scoffed and gripped his arm that wasn’t stiff, pulling him up and toward a mirror. Shane looked at himself, his eyes slightly glazed, cheeks red, and his lip. It was bleeding slightly around the bold letters, but it looked good. It looked so good. He felt good too, branded in the most secretive way. He felt fucking beautiful, having Ilyas name on him (semi) permanently. He laughed, the giddy sound breaking the tense room, and it put everyone else at ease, J.J. started cackling again, the tattoo artist letting out a breath and chuckling, even Hayden rolled his eyes fondly. This was such a good idea. He wouldn’t see Ilya until they either won the cup or were kicked from the playoffs, so he had to keep it a secret, he wanted to see Ilyas reaction up close and personal. That was fine, he could keep a secret just fine. —— It was another two weeks before he seen Ilya, the raiders had lost in the final round of the playoffs, losing in game four to Florida. It was a good fight, but it just wasn’t looking good from the start, the Raiders were on fucking fire, but Florida had just been better. Ilya was pissed, obviously. Coming that close just to lose always stung, but Shane had something to cheer him up. Shane had been at the cottage for the last week, getting everything ready, buying ingredients for tuna melts, stocking up on ginger ale and cokes, ensuring they had enough fire wood, domestic shit they wouldn’t want to do once Ilya got there. Today was the day, he was finally going to see Ilya again, he was counting down the seconds to hearing the keys at the front door. The tattoo had healed, it didn’t take very long for the swelling to go down, and he found himself staring at it whenever he saw a reflective surface.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,979
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77293701
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Ilya Rozanov hadn’t planned on getting a dog. It was the offseason, his life was already complicated, and the universe — according to his mother — was definitely keeping score. Shane Hollander definitely hadn’t planned on it either. He liked structure. Predictability. Things that didn’t bark, shed, or sprint toward chaos without warning. Or: Hollanov getting a dog!
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 25,425
- Chapters:
- 5/5
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76660126
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After a bad hit, Ilya insists he’s fine. After all, he's survived way worse than a concussion. Shane doesn’t believe him—and shows up anyway. Shane was wedged into the middle of the couch, his dad to his left, his mom’s feet tucked beneath her on his right. The Raiders game hummed through the living room, the volume a notch too loud, the voices of the commentators confident in that polished, charismatic way. His mom reacted a half-second ahead of the play like she always did, his dad chiming in here and there. Shane nodded when he was supposed to, smiled when they did, and kept his hands loose in his lap so no one would notice how tightly his fingers wanted to curl as he watched Ilya glide across the ice—fierce, effortless, commanding attention every time he came into frame. Midway through the second period, the Raiders finally managed to set something up in Ottawa’s zone. The puck moved back to the point, a quick pass across the blue line before a shot was fired through traffic. The shot was low and messy, the kind meant to create chaos more than score outright. The Ottawa goalie dropped into a butterfly and kicked the puck away with his pad, sending the rebound skidding into the crease. Ilya was already there, parked in front of the net, jostling for position with a defenseman, his back half-turned. The rebound hit him before he even had time to react—clipping the inside edge of his skate and redirecting just enough to slip past the goalie’s outstretched leg and dribble over the line. For a beat, the arena and everyone inside of it seemed confused. Then the horn went off, the goal light flashing as the puck settled in the back of the net. Shane watched Ilya turn in a slow, bewildered circle, stick lifted like he wasn’t entirely sure what he’d just done. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Shane’s dad groaned, already dropping his head back against the couch. “That’s not even skill. That’s just dumb luck.” His mom laughed, sharp and pleased. “Luck still counts,” she said. “You don’t get those goals unless you’re in the right place. Say what you will, but Rozanov is good at that. He’s always driving the net and causing chaos.” Shane nodded, keeping his expression neutral. “Yeah,” he said. “An ugly goal’s still a goal.” Shane kept his eyes fixed on the screen, but inside he was grinning. He could already picture it later—his phone propped up against the lamp on his bedside table, Ilya’s face filling the screen, hair still damp from his shower and pretending like the whole thing had been deliberate. He’d talk about the importance of positioning, about instincts, about reading the play, like the puck hadn’t bounced off his skate while he wasn’t even looking. Shane imagined himself leaning back on his bed, watching Ilya sell it with that infuriatingly smug face, the pause before the shrug, the way his mouth would twitch like he was daring Shane to call him on it. Obviously I meant to do that, Hollander, he’d say, completely serious. Shane would laugh, remind him of the replay, maybe even send him a link to the video. Ilya would protest, offended on principle, but secretly pleased. Shane felt the grin settle deeper in his chest, a quiet, private thing. He stayed still on the couch, expression carefully mild, already looking forward to later—when the game would be over, when the call would connect, when it would be just the two of them on opposite ends of the screen. It had been longer than he liked since the last time Shane had seen Ilya in person. A road trip that stretched on and on, cities blurring together, flights and back-to-backs stealing whatever gaps they might have had. Over a month now, which felt ridiculous to miss someone this much when they talked almost every day, but the distance had a way of changing the math. Calls flattened things. Screens cut Ilya down to the shoulders and face Shane already knew by heart. Their last time together had been quick, almost stolen. A night squeezed in between travel days, Ilya’s suitcase half-unpacked on the floor, the room smelling faintly of hotel soap and the cigarette Ilya swore would be his last. They’d ordered takeout, eaten it out of the containers, knees knocking under the sheets. Shane remembered the weight of Ilya’s arm slung over his shoulders later, the solid, anchoring heat of his bare skin, the way Ilya had gone quiet in that rare, unguarded way that meant he was tired enough to stop performing. Shane and Ilya had talked about getting together when Ilya passed through Ottawa—had lingered on the idea longer than either of them admitted out loud. Shane had stared at the map on his phone, thumb hovering, quietly calculating the drive. Two hours. Maybe a little more with traffic. Doable. Tempting. He’d been the one to shut it down. “Don’t be stupid,” Shane had said, fond but firm, even as part of him didn’t want to let it go. “I’ve got an early flight the next day out of Montreal. We’d barely get any time.” It had sounded practical. Responsible. Like the right call. He’d memorized that last night instead, like he’d known this stretch was coming—how Ilya fit against him, how steady he felt when he finally let himself rest. He’d stood in the doorway the next morning and watched Ilya pack with methodical care, all focus and muscle memory, like leaving was just another drill to get through. … On the ice, the noise blurred. Ilya’s ears rang in a low, persistent hum that followed him as he skated back into position. He shook his head once, subtle. The goal still echoed in the arena, teammates tapped his helmet. He grinned widely when he was supposed to, lifted a hand to the crowd that booed him, played the part. All he could think about was the shit Shane was going to give him later. The image came uninvited: Shane’s mouth tilting up, eyes bright with it, already lining up the jokes. Great move, he’d say. Really subtle. Ilya huffed out a breath through his nose and forced his focus back to the red line, the faceoff dot, the geometry of the ice. Thinking about Shane during a game was always a mistake.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 10,361
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77279641
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Ilya's conversation with Scott after his MVP speech! Featuring nervous Ilya Rozanov and supportive Scott Hunter (who puts some pieces together as information is revealed).
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,065
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77266431
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you make it so easy (to fall so hard) by brunettereader
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-07
Ilya knows that, between him and Shane, he's the more affectionate of the two. He's not sure if it's because he's from Europe, where everyone greets each other with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, or if it's because he grew up so starved for love and affection that he can't do anything except show Shane how much he loves him at any chance that he has. So, yes, he knows that he's the one most likely to kiss Shane on the cheek when he skates by him at practice or come up behind Shane when he's cooking dinner just to wrap his arms around him or fall on top of Shane while he's reading on the couch, desperate to have his skin touching Shane's. But, Shane… Shane loves Ilya differently. It's quieter. More intentional. — Or, five times that Shane loved Ilya in his quiet way, and one time that he loved Ilya loudly.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 12,986
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77242946
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It's the morning after Shane and Ilya confessed their love to one another. The cottage is calm, warm and slow in the morning, and they both feel lighter. This is their forever now. They have every intent to steep in it, soak in doing even the smallest tasks together. or Shane and Ilya are disgustingly in love and at complete ease. It's a full morning in the bubble they have spent years earning. There was a stillness in the cottage in the morning after Shane and Ilya said ‘I love you’ for the first time. It was impossible for the sun to miss any part of the house. It was lit entirely in the early morning light, the sun not fully risen. It painted every surface a warm orange and melted the blue sheets of Shane and Ilya’s bed into a deep brown color as the two slept. Ilya had fallen asleep on Shane’s chest, having slotted himself between Shane’s legs and pressing his chest to Shane’s stomach. Shane’s hand was tangled in Ilya’s curls, having fallen asleep while playing with them, and breaths escaped his lips as he slept deeply. Ilya stirred first, as he had fallen asleep first, and he quickly took in the state they were in. The sun had woken him. He still wasn’t acclimated to the natural lighting that the cottage provided. His eyes blinked open and he felt his heart race as he woke up. It wasn’t unusual for him to wake with a wave of anxiety, usually from a nightmare he had no recollection of by the time he opened his eyes. The only evidence was his pounding heart and uneven breath. He felt the thin layer of sweat on his back and pulled his outstretched hand toward his body, it closing onto Shane’s bare waist instead of his own and he took a deep breath. Right. He’s here. Shane’s here. Ilya relaxed his shoulder, he hadn’t even noticed how tense they were. He licked his lips and he could feel how dry his throat was. They must have sweat throughout the night. Shane was a large heater, which Ilya still needed to get used to. He wanted to get to it. To be able to complain about Shane being too warm. But for now, he knew to relish in it. The privilege to sleep so close to Shane, to be so close he could taste his sweat when he breathed him in. Ilya lifted his head and Shane’s hand slid from Ilya’s hair to the nape of his neck as Shane took in a deep breath. Ilya smiled, he couldn’t help it. Shane, he discovered, always woke up by opening one eye at a time. As if he were trying to catch the sunlight off guard. Shane’s right eye slowly opened as his left squeezed shut. Ilya pressed his lips together, trying to hide his smile which he assumed was shit-eatingly wide. But he couldn’t as Shane’s cheeks warmed to a blush and his left eye opened. They locked eyes, Shane’s still a bit droopy from sleep. “Good morning.” Shane managed, his voice was grovel and a bit rough, he definitely wasn’t used to talking so soon after waking up. “Morning.” Ilya whispered back, leaning up to kiss Shane. “Ah, we haven’t brushed our teeth.” Shane lifted his hand between their mouths. “Yes, but I love you and you love me. So we kiss with dirty mouths.” Ilya kissed Shane’s hand. “Ilya.” Shane warned. “Shane.” Ilya lifted his eyebrows. “Please.” Shane lifted his back. “Fine.” Ilya sighed, dropping his head to Shane’s chest and peppering kisses onto his chest instead. “Let’s brush our teeth.” Shane let out a little noise and Ilya smiled against his skin, wanting more than anything to just stay in bed all day and kiss their confessions into each other’s mouths until it felt normal and stale because they had spent so many goddamn years stopping themselves from saying it. From feeling it. But he knew that Shane wouldn’t allow that, that he would want to freshen up, be as clean as they could be before they tasted each other again, and that is why he loved Shane. Ilya planted a hand on either side of Shane and pushed himself up, leaning back onto his heels to admire Shane as he was laid out on his back. “You look pretty.” Ilya caught his bottom lip between his teeth in a teasing grin. “Shut up.” Shane sat up, swinging his leg around Ilya and standing up rather gracefully for someone who had just woken up. “Hm, never.” Ilya tilted his head, though Shane’s back was to him, and crawled off the bed. Shane turned toward Ilya and offered his hand once they were both standing, Ilya’s heart could burst at how casual and normal it felt to slip his hand into Shane’s and intertwine their fingers so they could walk into the bathroom together. Ilya walked half a pace behind Shane so he could admire the slight curve of Shane’s back as they walked. Shane’s back was absent of any flaw, not a scar or freckle in sight, just a perfect plain of warm, rich skin. Ilya wanted to kiss every inch of it. The bathroom wasn’t far, maybe even too close to their bed for Ilya’s liking, so Shane was already letting go of Ilya’s hand. Ilya pouted slightly and caught Shane’s gaze in the mirror. Shane smiled and rolled his eyes and Ilya smiled back. “Do my toothbrush?” Ilya asked cutely and Shane scrunched his nose. “Please?” “You have hands.” Shane shot a half-assed glare in the mirror, but immediately softened when Ilya wrapped an arm around him and pressed his fingertips against his plush belly. “Yes, but they are busy.” Ilya kissed Shane’s shoulder, knowing he had won whatever this little chirp was, and turned to hug Shane’s side fully, planting more kisses onto his shoulder and arm. Shane only hummed happily, pulling Ilya’s toothbrush from its holder, where he had insisted Ilya to put it only three days before, wet it, squeezed toothpaste on, then wet it again before he held it up to Ilya. Ilya planted a wet kiss on his shoulder then turned, opening his mouth for Shane. Shane huffed and nudged Ilya’s chest with his elbow. Take it. Ilya just jutted out his chin and opened his mouth a bit wider. Shane rolled his eyes and pushed it into Ilya’s mouth. Ilya quickly caught it with his left hand and began to scrub, resting his head on Shane’s shoulder as Shane prepared his own toothbrush. Shane’s eyes were down, but Ilya lazily brushed his teeth as he waited for Shane’s eyes to shoot up to the mirror to analyze his own face. Shane did exactly that, but his eyes shifted to Ilya’s gaze immediately. The analytical look in his eyes softened to nothing but a swirling pool of a rich hot chocolate and Ilya smiled around his toothbrush.
- Part 1 of I Love You...
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 8,262
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77219511