21 – 40 of 44 Works in First Kiss
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You're The Risk I'm Gonna Take It by PumpkinPrincess22
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-02-14
In a world where Ilya and Shane are already friends by the time of the Draft, what if Ilya had kissed Shane in that hotel gym? And what if that kiss sparked the beginning of a real relationship seven years earlier than in canon?
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,781
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #79522356
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Strawberries & Cigarettes (They Always Taste Like You) by Anonymous
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV)
2026-02-08
Troy’s grin turned sharp and mischievous. “Alright then,” he spoke up. “New bet.”
“No.” Ilya groaned. “Why is everything always a bet?”
“Because you hate losing,” Wyatt answered as if it was obvious.
Troy clapped his hands together. “Okay, so,” he started, his eyes gleaming. “Rozanov has to get Shane Hollander to fall in love with him.”
Ilya stared at him, his brain’s processing lagging half a second behind. “You think you are jokester, yes? You are joking.”
or, in which hockey captain Ilya Rozanov drunkenly agrees to a bet to make the nerdy Shane Hollander fall in love with him
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 38,317
- Chapters:
- 8/8
- Files:
- 3 versions
- AO3:
- #78125021
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Ottawa, 2010. Canada wins the championship, and Shane slips away from the overwhelming celebration for some peace and quiet. Russia loses, and Ilya runs from his father’s furious disappointment to have a panic attack in the stairwell. Neither boy is really looking for company, but for a tentative few hours in the middle of the night, they find solace, acceptance and a first kiss, first time prelude to something heated and risky in each other’s arms. **** Ilya leaned in with lips pursed and Shane jerked away, “Whoa! What the hell are you doing?” “You do not want kiss?” Ilya frowned. “You stare at my mouth all night, same as after draft. I thought you wanted kiss.” “No.” Shane’s eyes were wide. “That’s insane.” “Okay.” Ilya stood up, hiding how bad the rejection hurt. “I misunderstand. Sorry. Do not worry, I will not say anything about–” “Wait.” Shane’s grabbed Rozanov’s arm at the last second, gathering all his courage, “Y- yes.” “Yes.” Ilya repeated. “What is yes?” “I mean yes.” Shane pulled him back in slowly, carefully, his heart racing. “Kiss me?” January 2010 Ottawa, Canada The party was loud. The championship had been hard won and well earned and the celebration was out of control. The players were cheering, jumping, hugging one another high off the win, the boys were spinning, laughing, shoving one another drunk on the adrenaline, some actually were high off smuggled in weed and others actually were drunk off punch spiked from not very secret flasks, and the coaches and chaperones were all too busy congratulating each other and themselves to pretend to care. Champions. Trophy winners. They were at the top of their game and feeling on top of the world, and the fever pitch excitement combined with the delirious exhaustion of a too long, too intense, too physically mentally emotionally grueling few weeks of tournament shook the walls of the multipurpose conference room on the basement floor of hotel. The noise was deafening, the chaos of it all dizzying, the crush of people and body heat and clamor of conversation suffocating and in the very middle of the room– –in the very middle of the room, team Captain and tournament MVP and all around Canadian Wunderkind Shane Hollander stared down at his glass of electric red punch and tried his fucking hardest not to throw up. “Hollander! We did it! We fucking did it!” Someone pushed into him, fell into him, grabbed him into a messy, sloppy hug and planted a messy, sloppy kiss on his cheek. Teammate. A buddy. Shane had played with him for years. “Shane Hollander! Second in the draft son, good for you! You make us all so proud!” Someone shook his hand, squeezed his palm, pounded at his shoulder. A parent. A chaperone. They’d known Shane since he was sixteen. “Wouldn’t be the player he is without a great coach!” Right in his ear, bellowing over the noise. Shane knew he was supposed to smile, supposed to agree, supposed to pound the no doubt spiked punch and whoop at the top of his lungs and let go – let loose– now that the work was over and the tournament was finished and he had another trophy and medal to put in his room. Instead, “I gotta find the bathroom!” he announced to no one in particular, cos no one fucking cared. They were lost in the party, reveling in the victory, but it was too much hammering against Shane’s head, too much crushing around his body and his stomach was twisting, head pounding, chest too tight, holy shit he had to get out somewhere and get some air. Out of the multipurpose room and into the hall. Down the hall and right past the bathroom. He ditched the cup of punch in the nearest water fountain and broke into a jog down the generically ugly carpeted corridor and by the time he crashed through the door leading to the stairwell, Shane was running. Gasping. He yanked at his tie and scrubbed at his face, rolled his shoulders and popped his neck and told himself to breathe. Started up the stairs to get to his fourteenth floor room and told himself to breathe. Huffed a self deprecating sort of laugh because Shane Hollander jogging up fourteen floors worth of stairs instead of partying with his teammates was exactly the sort of over dedicated, wet blanket, fitness and work ethic obsessed bullshit everyone expected from him so– so whatever. When his parents asked sort of sad and sort of resigned about why he hadn’t stayed to celebrate with his teammates and revel in the end of his juniors era, when they told him he probably should really definitely enjoy these moments of silliness and fun while he still could cos come fall he’d be playing professional and have to lock in, when his parents couldn’t hide how they worried about him isolating and clicked their tongues about him avoiding his long time teammates in favor of running stairs alone, Shane would call it a work out. He’d call it dedication. He’d brush it off and wave them away and tell them he might have gotten second at the draft but he was gonna be first in the league, rookie of the year, and to make that happen, he couldn’t party, he had to train. He certainly wouldn’t tell them how the noisy crowd and pushing unhinged behavior made his skin crawl and lungs seize up and head hurt, no way. There wasn’t anything wrong with him. He was just dedicated. Just focused. It was fine. He was fine. Nine, ten, eleven, floors up and Shane actually started to feel fine. The stairwell was soothingly monochromatic and cold enough to be clarifying, easing the clamor in Shane’s head until he felt like he could think again. His shoes didn’t make any noise on the concrete steps and landing after corner after landing after corner was empty, the doors to the adjoining halls all closed, it was a half hour till midnight so anyone who wasn’t partying in celebration was sequestered in their rooms mulling over their loss and packing for the trip home. It was nice. Peaceful. Space to move and space to breathe and twelve floors up Shane was starting to feel like maybe he wouldn’t just collapse face first onto his bed and scream, maybe he’d have the mental energy to watch a movie or read a little bit in his book, or– Noise in the stairwell up ahead, and Shane slowed at the door for the thirteenth floor landing, paused waiting to see if he heard the noise again, then peeked around the corner bracing himself so he could try and be passably polite to whoever had inadvertently interrupted his single minded dash up the stairs. Ilya Rozanov. It was Ilya fucking Rozanov sitting just below the next landing blocking the stairwell with his body turned sideways taking up a whole step, an unlit cigarette in one hand and his phone in the other… and tears on his face, reflecting the light from his phone, tracking down his cheek and dripping off his chin, landing wet on the cold concrete below. Shit. Shane came around the corner cautiously, curiously, fidgeting with the string on his hoodie as he asked, “Rozanov?” Ilya jumped when someone spoke at him from just a few feet away. He hadn’t heard any door open, he hadn’t heard any footsteps coming up the stairs and he jumped cursing when the empty echoing cold of the stairwell was shattered by the unexpected intruder.
- Part 5 of Heated Rivalry
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,284
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #78900926
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i called your freckles beautiful so you decided to learn my language? by Anonymous
Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types
2026-02-03
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?”- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,098
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #78819956
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j.j.'s discovery of bisexuality and what shane hollander's lips feel like by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV)
2026-01-29
After inviting Shane out to dinner and some well-timed questions about his friend's relationship status, J.J. realized he might be missing amjor puzzle piece in the task of known Shane Hollander. Good thing J.J. is pretty open minded... wait... not that open-minded, right??
(How J.J. Boiziau realizes his friend is gay, that he is bi, and gets a kiss out of it)
- Part 1 of j.j.'s bisexual adventures
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 9,289
- Chapters:
- 4/4
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #78323586
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Scott and Ilya kiss on a mountain.
- Part 3 of Scrabble Is Boring Anyway
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,832
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #78465521
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Snow and Saskatchewan by LadyElspeth
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-25
Oh no, Shane thought. Oh God. No. Ignoring his clammy palms, he scanned the tiny hotel room, wondering where he could even lay his bag. Then, after a breathtaking second, he forced his eyes to meet Rozanov’s. With a mischievous smirk, Rozanov was sitting casually on the only bed, arm draped over the pillows—including the pillow that Shane had to sleep on. And Rozanov’s muscular chest and arms were on full, shameless display. Shane might just die. “So,” Rozanov said, “you and me, we sleep together?” Or: Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov were stuck in the same hotel room in Saskatchewan after the International Prospect Cup ended—and there was only one bed.
- Part 12 of Hollanov
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 9,609
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77864346
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say you want me now by attxntionreadxr
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-16
It's perfectly reasonable to put on a suit to meet your rival/first time hookup. Based on a tweet I found, wondering what would happen if Shane hadn't realized how silly putting on a suit to meet Ilya would be. (Title: Magnolia by Meadowglade)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,932
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77758841
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All Things Turn Grey by BetwixtTheBramble
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV)
2026-01-13
Ilya had never wanted to become a priest, and he was still wondering how he had managed to be one for over ten years now without causing a scandal. Four years ago they had been looking for someone with decent English skills to take over a congregation in Ottawa after the former priest died. Ilya jumped at the possibility of fleeing from his family's watchful eye to another continent where nobody knew him. He kept his masses short, his bed warm with women and a few men that were willing to overlook the eternal damnation that was promised them for fucking with a priest, and his spirits up with a seasonal ticket for the Ottawa Centaurs. Everything changed when one late evening the doors to the church opened and a stranger walked in.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,098
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77627746
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Shane doesn’t believe in hockey, fate, or men like Ilya Rozanov. Unfortunately, none of them care.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 18,847
- Chapters:
- 10/10
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77089936
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A Beary Heated Rivalry by Wolves_of_Innistrad
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-12
Inspired by a discussion in the Heated Rivalry Jumbotron HS AU Hollanov where a tradition says that if you win enough tickets to get the big bear prize and give it to your crush you'll start dating. Shane is trying to win it for Rose because his friends can't believe they aren't dating yet. Ilya is also gunning for the bear, but who he's wanting to give it to may be a surprise.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,577
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77540431
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“Fuck you Rozanov.” He smirks. Even in the dark, Shane can feel it. The way his mouth quirks up and his eyes widen. “If you ask nicely.” or shane hollander and ilya rozanov are roommates in college who hate each other. until they don’t. ft. reddit, letterboxd, RA scott hunter, tuna melts and late nights.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 19,870
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76508456
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Both Shane and Ilya had gotten concussions before. It was part of being a hockey player, but neither of them had ever woken up thinking they were seventeen. Of course, Shane had to change that.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 9,560
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76764096
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The House Always Wins by noedovenest
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-07
He snagged a cue stick from the wall and set up the break. Leaned over the table and rolled the polished wood between his fingers, getting a feel for its weight. Then, with one eye closed, he lined up the shot like a rifle and struck, watching the balls scatter like shrapnel. It was one of his best breaks yet, and Shane lifted his head instinctively, half-hoping one of his roommates had appeared at exactly the right moment. Instead, he found the bartender. OR: Bartender Ilya Rozanov challenges university student Shane Hollander to a game of pool (inspired by that one picture of Hudson playing pool — iykyk)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,976
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77244636
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Ilya Rozanov has seen the tape on Hollander, seen his blazing speed and his quick hands, his almost psychic ability to know where the puck will be. Hollander is a magician on the ice, the best prospect in the world except for Ilya himself. But up close, Hollander looks young. Soft. Western. He has big eyes and freckles across his nose like a little kid. He is attractive in the way that many young men are attractive, his face not yet hardened by the work of the real world, and he seems nervous to be out here, nervous to be seen with Ilya. Because Ilya has been forced to learn everything about Hollander, Ilya knows that Hollander is older than him, not much, a few weeks. But looking at him, Ilya feels weary and old. He hates that.
- Part 1 of Bad Thing
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 10,838
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77188526
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On New Year's Eve 2010, Shane Hollander went to a party with his teammates and had the best kiss of his life, but didn't remember the face of the boy. Year after year, he attended the same party, hopefully trying to meet the love of his life. But at the same party, his archrival, Ilya Rozanov always appears and troubles his plans. After some encounters, he started to connect some interesting coincidences.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 9,792
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76797516
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“Hollander,” Ilya’s accent is thick, voice low. It makes Shane a little weak in the knees. “Did you dress up for me?” --- OR: Shane wears the suit to their first hookup. Ilya is very pleased (and amused) by it.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,179
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 3 versions
- AO3:
- #76786051
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That was how he found himself sitting at the bar, a few days before the All-Star game, alone. Around him, groups of other players that he vaguely knew were all talking and laughing together. It was for the best, he had to tell himself to stop the jealousy from eating him from the inside out.
- Part 1 of trans shane hollander chronicles
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,449
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76735006
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what are you willing to do? (kiss it better, baby) by subbyjeongguk
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-29
shane knew two things: he'd never kissed anyone before, and he really could not stand ilya rozanov. (college!au with hockey rivals hollanov and virgin shane with forced proximity)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 10,631
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76635986
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The heart monitor Ilya is standing next to starts beeping really quickly. “Hey, why is this going crazy? Is this normal? Should I call for the nurse?” Shane giggles, his eyes tearing up. “No, it's not normal. But it's you, so…” He inclines his head and tucks his and Ilya's joined hands somewhere under his ear. “It's my heart, Ilya.” He croaks, his voice painfully scratchy. He points with his other hand at the monitor that is still beeping fairly fast. “It goes crazy because of you.”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,003
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76606891
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