901 – 920 of 962 Works in Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types

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  1. Shane really isn't looking for a relationship, which is why having Ilya around is nice. No strings attached, only great sex. It's a win all around.

    The only problem is that Ilya is way, way too nice to Shane's stupid cat.

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    AO3:
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  2. Both Shane and Ilya are perfectly content to ignore the elephant in the room

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  3. Ilya Rozanov has never had a drink that didn’t mean something, or didn’t make him think of someone. He’s had a lot of drinks. A history, told in cocktails.

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  4. The realization hit Ilya like a body check. They weren’t just evacuating for a fire, they were in the middle of a hotel, full of Ottawa players and hockey fans. Shane let go of Ilya’s hand. He turned to look at his boyfriend and that’s when he noticed what Shane was wearing. A black Centaurs hoodie with the bright red letters and numbers printed on the back: Rozanov 81. Ilya was sure Shane hadn't noticed what he was wearing, but he had pulled the drawstrings of the hoodie tight, leaving a small a hole at the center of his flushed face.

    The rookie, clearly starstruck, stared. “Are you Shane Hollander? Like, the Shane Hollander?” Ilya wasn’t sure who was going to faint first, Shane or Luca.

    The others stood there staring at the two men, mouths slightly agape. Bood broke into a slow smile. “Nice hoodie, Hollander. Supporting the enemy now?"

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  5. Here lies Ilya Rozanov. Cause of death: Shane Hollander speaking Russian and not kissing him.

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  6. “Does the Dominus enjoy serving a slave?” Ilya murmured. Shane looked up at him through dark lashes. His mouth was a hairsbreadth away from Ilya’s cock, and Ilya could see the exact moment the last of his composure burned out, shedding, the way a snake left its old skin behind, eyes bright and body underneath already new— —and instead of answering, Shane licked a stripe up the underside of his shaft, root to tip. The law calls Ilya a slave. The mob of Rome calls him their lion, their Gladiator. Senator’s son Shane calls him to his bed. Now Shane wants to call him free, but that means owning him first.

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    AO3:
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  7. When more than half of the MLH gets stranded during a snow storm, Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov find themselves not only roommates, but they get stuck with the one room that has only one bed. Who knows how long they'll have to deal with being stuck with one another, but at least their friends Hayden Pike and Cliff Marlow are also there, right? What could go wrong...?

    Or Shane is forced to share a room with Ilya while Hayden is forced to share a room with Cliff for a few days and HayLow tries to play detective.

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    AO3:
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  8. Shane didn't know what he should say, what he could say. They hadn't talked since that night, hadn't been in contact much. Which at first hadn't worried Shane. It wasn't unusual for them to go longer periods of time without contact, and especially with the Olympics looming so close, with them both being chosen for their teams, it had only seemed logical to focus on their duties. He hadn't worried. Had lived in that blissful state of finally knowing what it felt like to be taken, of sharing the arguably most intimate part of himself with someone he trusted. Knew he could trust. Thought he could trust. OR: What happened during those 6 months when Ilya ignored Shane? How did that time change things for Shane?

    • Part 7 of
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  9. December 23, 2008
    “Freckles?” He askes and points to the dots on his cheekbones. Ilya nods in agreement and commits the word freckles to memory. “You like my freckles.” The blush is back when Shane realizes what he said.
    Ilya has the sudden thought that this moment is important, a voice in his head that might sound like his mother, or might be his own that says, don’t fuck this up, not this one. Ilya decides very suddenly that he is going to listen, and against every instinct ingrained in him, decides to be honest.

    June 27, 2009
    “You forget English again, Rozanov? Are my vesnushki that distracting?”
    Ilya laughed, caught off guard. “So you know Russian now, Shane Hollander?”

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  10. CLIFF: I think my rookie may be one of yours.
    ILYA: Russian?
    CLIFF: No, dumbass. Gay.

    Marlow accidently helps Ilya add to his collection of hockey queers.

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  11. It's the first game between Ottawa and Montreal since Shane transferred. Montreal's new center is out for blood, and when he manages to get under Shane's skin, Hollander surprises them all.

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  12. The first call comes early, when Ilya is still skating along the edge of a dream. Shane is tucked in warm at his side, and his hair scratches at the underside of Ilya’s jaw, and the tender patch that always tickles just beneath his ear. He can hear the vibration against the wooden bedside table, the soft buzz buzz buzz incessant as a mosquito but he ignores it to go back in the warmth of his sleepy haze.

    Later, when the sun is fully up and Shane pulls from his warm and sweaty side, he checks his phone. It’s an unknown number, the region code is for Russia.

    OR

    Ilya's niece reaches out to him eight years after he's last seen her. It makes him think about the things he never let himself miss.

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  13. One accidental word sends Shane spiraling, but Ilya knows exactly what Shane needs—and he’s going to make him ask for it properly.

    or

    Shane accidentally calls Ilya Dad and realizes he might have a daddy kink

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  14. Ilya Rozanov is leaving behind Russia and going to Canada. Lucky for him, he gets to stay with a new family. But once he meets Shane Hollander, sparks fly and he starts suspecting that Shane is more than what he seems. AKA: And They Were Alpha/Omega Roommates!

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  15. “I told Kyle not to text you.”

    Ilya goes to the Kingfisher when Ottawa plays New York near the end of The Long Game. He doesn't tell anyone. Scott finds him anyway.

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  16. He would always run towards Shane.

    That terrified him.

    -----

    Some reasons why Ilya was terrified on the drive to the cottage.

     

    ** can be read as a stand-alone **

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  17. They were always Rozanov and Hollander. Last names like armor, like the numbers on their backs, 81 and 24, nothing more. Then: tuna melts, ginger ale, and Shane.

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  18. “Shane,” Ilya tried again, savouring the snap to attention it earned him, “Take off your clothes. I want to swim with you.” They’ve spent years hiding what they are to each other in hotel rooms with locked doors and stolen hours in the dark. But at Shane’s lake cottage, there’s no one watching and nowhere to hide. When Ilya dives in and calls Shane to follow, it’s the first time they’ve ever done this in daylight, and everything about it feels like stepping off a cliff.

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    AO3:
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  19. “Yeah, what the hell?” Comeau echoes. “Since when do you go around defending Rozanov?”
    “I – I’m not,” Hayden says, starting to carefully fold his clothes so he doesn’t have to look anyone in the eye. Maybe Shane is onto something, always folding his things instead of throwing them into his bag. Gives you a moment to concentrate on something manual, to think before having to respond to questions and comments.
    “You literally were defending him right now,” J. J. points out.

    ---

    Four times Hayden defends Ilya Rozanov to other people, and one time he defends Ilya from himself.

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  20. "Rozanov went to see Shane in the hospital..." One sunny afternoon, after an awkward encounter in the gift shop of Montreal General Hospital, Yuna Hollander decides she hates Ilya Rozanov just a bit less. Translation into Русский available: Семейные узы by chouchoute, silksosoft, WTF Heated rivalry 2026 (fandomHeatedRivalry) David goes to the hospital immediately, of course, but visiting hours are over before Shane gets moved into the observation unit, and eventually he has to leave to get a couple of hours' sleep before heading into work. Yuna wanted to be there; she should have been. She hardly ever misses one of Shane's home games, but there was a major Rolex product launch event in Toronto and she thought it would be good for someone from Shane's camp to make an appearance. Which means she's not there the one time something happens— the one time Shane really needs her. When Yuna finally lands in Montreal, head aching and jaw set, she's running on coffee and fumes, her phone battery at seventeen percent. Of course they've lost her hurried rental car reservation and the only thing left is a huge, unwieldy Lincoln town car. She usually spends a minute walking around any rental with her phone, documenting pre-existing scratches or dings, but she has the feeling she's probably going to scrape this thing along a bollard in the hospital parking garage anyway and quite honestly, at this point, she doesn't give a damn. When she arrives at the hospital, she ducks into a restroom for a moment to practice an encouraging smile in the mirror. It looks unconvincing and terrible. She can't even blame the fluorescent lights. She splashes her face with icy cold water, then folds up a cold wet paper towel and holds it against her eyes for twenty seconds, counting methodically. It helps, a little. The volunteer at the front desk gets flustered when asked for Shane's room number. Luckily for her, not too flustered to request the patient privacy password that Coach Theriault established before she acknowledges that Shane has been admitted and giving Yuna directions to his room. On the way to the elevators, Yuna passes the hospital gift shop, its doors flanked by a display of bouquets and a huge stuffed giraffe with balloons tied around its neck. She pauses. There are things Shane likes when he's in the hospital. Lip balm. Sugarless mints. A nice, solid coffee mug to drink from instead of those fiddly plastic cups. Maybe some gentle cleansing wipes for his face. He hates being gross and sweaty. She steps inside, eyes scanning over the tchotchkes, get-well cards and magazines, candy and gum, and blinks. Is that...? It is. The terror and the bad boy of the league, Ilya Rozanov, in a black suede jacket and fashionably straight-legged jeans. He looks thoughtful and tired, heavy-lidded eyes almost shut as he uses one finger to idly rotate a spinner rack overflowing with small stuffed animals. She doesn't say anything, but he seems to sense her gaze and looks up, startled. "Oh. Mrs. Hollander." "Rozanov," she says coolly. "Uh." He looks her up and down. "You just get in?" She nods, and he pulls his hand away from the spinner rack, oddly tense. "I was just up to see him. He, uh... he seems in good spirits. You know. He's okay." He is not okay. A concussion and a cracked collarbone is not okay. It's weeks of painful recovery and physical therapy, weeks of trying to keep Shane from pushing himself too hard without smothering him— and, as they both know very well, he's out of the playoffs. Yuna takes a deep breath. She knows that none of that is what Rozanov meant, and anyway snapping at him won't do anything to make Shane feel better. Then, of course, because it's Ilya fucking Rozanov, he has to keep pushing. "I should have brought him a Raiders bear, maybe," he says, gesturing at the stuffed toys with a little smirk. "They don't have one, so." "Oh. You think that's funny?" Yuna says, seeing red. "You think this is funny?" "No!" Rozanov says immediately. "No, Mrs. Hollander. I don't think that. I don't." Yuna presses her lips together. She is upset and worried and furious, but not at Rozanov, not really. "Sorry." "No," he says, just as quickly. "I understand. You're good mother. You worry. It's fine." Oh, god, both Rozanov's parents have passed, haven't they? He lost his father a few weeks ago. Maybe that's another reason he looks so hollow and worn out around the eyes. "Really, I... didn't mean to fly off the handle." "No, no," Rozanov mutters, looking down, as if he were more comfortable when she was snapping at him, and less comfortable with a conversation between two adults just talking to each other like humans. There are so many feral hockey boys like Rozanov— on their own in foreign countries since they were teenagers, treating the world like one big locker room, where the biggest dick-swinger always wins. The silence stretches on. She doesn't think she's ever seen Rozanov this quiet for this long, at least not since he made captain and his English started improving enough to give good snappy soundbites. "Well," she says. "It was good of you to stop by." And it was. He didn't have to. No one would have made him. "Well," Rozanov says, "I'm the captain. So." He glances back at the stuffed animals. "I don't mean to make fun. He's just very high right now, you know. You'll see. Everything is funny." He reaches for a little golf-ball sized round bird, practically spherical with a little felt beak and wings. "Maybe this one, eh? To chirp at him." Okay, maybe it's the sleep deprivation, but Yuna has to admit: it's sort of funny. She stifles a half-laugh. His mouth twitches, and she nods and turns away awkwardly to her own shopping... and then somehow, by the time she's done collecting everything Shane needs, Rozanov has actually spent fourteen Canadian dollars on a stupid stuffed bird. He reaches out and drops it gently into her shopping bag without asking. He's still smiling faintly in that half-mocking way that is always so infuriating in interviews. "Thanks," Yuna says flatly, and turns to make her way to the elevator bank. Well, what is she going to do, dig it out and throw it on the ground just because Ilya Rozanov bought it?

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    AO3:
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