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Hockey is a rough sport. Everyone knows that. You go down, you get back up. That’s the game. When Ilya Rozanov goes down on the ice, the Boston Bears are already moving to defend their captain. No one expects Shane Hollander, captain of the Montreal Voyageurs, to be the one who throws the first punch. Ilya Rozanov loved playing against Shane Hollander almost as much as he loved fucking him. Not that anyone in the arena would ever know that—not with the way Ilya drove Shane shoulder-first into the boards now. His weight crashed in behind him a moment later, pinning him there as the plexiglass shuddered from the impact. The vibration climbed all the way up Ilya’s arms and rattled against his teeth. Shane’s breath left him in a sharp burst of white, fogging across the glass where his visor pressed flush against it. His mouth fell open on a broken sound that never quite escaped, swallowed whole by the crowd as they surged to their feet, hungry and gleeful as they turned toward the collision. Ilya felt it anyway. Felt the way Shane’s body tensed first, instinct flaring hot and defensive, then yielded when recognition set in. When his body understood exactly who had him pinned to the boards. Ilya felt Shane’s spine arch, ribs expanding under the pressure of his forearm, a helpless, involuntary offering that sent something low and dangerous coiling tight in Ilya’s gut. For a heartbeat, the world narrowed to that single point of contact. Blades biting into the ice. Pads creaking beneath the fabric of their opposing jerseys—eighty-one and twenty-four. Shane was unyielding even when he was pinned, even when his weight subtly pressed back instead of away. Ilya stayed there a fraction too long. Long enough to memorize the exact moment Shane’s resistance softened without ever breaking. Long enough to feel the way Shane leaned into him, like a promise instead of a warning. Somewhere in the crowd, the cameras whined as they zoomed in, greedy to catch the moment for the viewers at home. In the booths, surrounded by those same unblinking lenses that caught every possible angle of the collision, Ilya knew the commentators had already leaned forward in their comfortable chairs. He knew they would already be dissecting yet another brutal meeting between the captains of the Montreal Voyageurs and the Boston Bears. “Oh—Rozanov’s been hunting that matchup all night,” one of the commentators said, delighted. “The captains of these two teams have a long history of rivalry on the ice. Hardly surprising to find them—” “It’s a clean hit,” the other commentator cut in. “Hollander’s not known for losing his head, but Rozanov has a way of getting under even the most level-headed guy’s skin. You can feel the tension every time these two share the ice—neither one of them ever backs down.” “Hell of a show they’re putting on for us tonight.” But on the ice, none of that mattered. The boards were bleeding cold through the layers of their padding, seeping into Shane’s shoulder, his ribs, his spine. Ilya could feel him shivering. The crowd was still on its feet, a wall of sound that blurred the edges of everything else, but the heat between them ignored it completely. Ilya’s body kept Shane pressed to the boards, unyielding even as helmets knocked together, cages scraping with a thin metallic rasp that felt far too intimate for how hard they were supposed to be hitting. It almost—almost—landed like a kiss when Shane twisted, trying to throw him off. Ilya felt every taut line of Shane’s body straining beneath him, muscles coiled and familiar in a way that loosened something dangerous in his chest even as they fought for possession over the puck. Ilya leaned in, just enough that Shane could feel his breath through the vents of his helmet. He smiled where only Shane could see it. “You skate slow today, captain,” he murmured, his accent thicker, softer. “Maybe tired from last night.” His grin turned sharp. “Should I take it easy on you?” Shane huffed a laugh that scraped out of him, rough and breathless. His shoulders shifted, instinctively angling closer even as the linesman started toward them. “Fuck off, Rozanov,” he muttered, dragging in a sharp breath through clenched teeth. The sound went straight through Ilya. And before he could stop himself, his gloved hand slid to Shane’s hip and squeezed—hard. Something reckless and private pressed into the narrow space between their pads and the noise and the regulation rules they both lived by. It shouldn’t have meant anything to anyone who noticed the touch lingered too long. It was for balance. It was instinct. A dozen excuses flared and died in Ilya’s head, because—fuck it—he wanted Shane closer. Wanted to lean in and kiss him stupid, right there against the glass. Wanted the world to finally understand what it was cheering for. Shane Hollander was his. Ilya knew his touch was too possessive. He knew he should probably pull back, create distance, or the illusion of it. But his fingers dug in harder instead, lingering too close to something that could never be explained away as incidental contact. Shane’s dark eyes snapped up, catching Ilya’s, sharp and furious and lit with something that made Ilya’s pulse stutter, like he’d misjudging a step and felt the drop a heartbeat too late. “Make me,” Ilya murmured, the words soft behind his grin. Then he slammed Shane back into the plexiglass again—just to feel it. The jolt. The way Shane’s body reacted before his pride could catch up. The involuntary sound punched out of him as their skates stuttered beneath them, blades biting and chattering against the ice as the puck bounced uselessly between their skates. Shane’s grunt slid low in his throat, a sound he only made when he was fighting for something he refused to lose. And all Ilya could think of—hot and unbidden—was last night. This exact angle. This exact body. This exact resistance that wasn’t resistance at all. Only it had been skin between them instead of gear. Hands instead of gloves. The heat of Shane’s breath breaking apart under him. The way Shane’s thighs had trembled as Ilya took his cock into his mouth. The way Shane had clung to him, arching into every thrust like he
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 9,320
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77390061
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Before he was even able to fully process Shane's love confession, he looked up and choked on his saliva. He couldn’t believe his eyes. His mouth wide open in disbelief. Shane Hollander was on the floor. Kneeling down. Legs apart and slightly angled, grinding the floor of the studio. They made Shane Hollander grind the fucking floor of the studio. And Shane looked ridiculously sexy doing it. His beautiful slutty arched back on national TV for thousand of people to see and the fabric of his pants tightly hugging his full ass cheeks, looking extremely bitable. Ilya gulped loudly, this would be the death of him. Or Shane makes an appearance on the Late-Night-Show and his husband Ilya watches from the the hotel feeling all kinds of emotions and can’t believe his eyes when Shane shows his slutty arch on national TV, that should only be reserved to Ilya's eyes, at least if you ask Ilya. (completely inspired by Hudson's appearance on the Tonight's Show yesterday)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,523
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77349701
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Shane Hollander hasn't seen Ilya Rozanov in ten years. Not since an injury ended Ilya's career overnight. In that time, Shane has faced reluctant medical retirement of his own, a big career change, and a decade of unfulfilling relationships. When he runs into Ilya at a New Year's Eve party, he can't help but fall back on old feelings. Circumstances have changed a lot, and so has Ilya. But can the two of them overcome old wounds for a shot at a second chance?
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 29,794
- Chapters:
- 7/7
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77095666
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Three times Ilya was definitely not jealous about Rose Landry, and one time he didn't have to be. (3+1)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,522
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77312411
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nasha sem'ya (our family) by Harperquinn
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types
2026-01-09
Shane is kidnapped by Russians hoping to settle a debt from Ilya's brother. Ilya goes to great lengths to retrieve him.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,101
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77386276
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Shane wants to thank Scott for his role in getting them together. Ilya isn't going to make it easy.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,370
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77385001
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Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov Answer Vogue's 73 Questions by tuesdaymidnight
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-09
We’re here at Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov’s house in Ottawa, asking them 73 questions before they get on with their day and head off to hockey practice. I was greeted at the door by their lovely dog Anya, and now we’re heading to the kitchen for breakfast.
- Part 2 of Vogue Interviews
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,373
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77389896
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Reveal Themselves (One Star at a Time) by ashes2ashes15
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-09
She had always expected the same life for Shane. Perhaps she couldn’t have predicted birthing and raising the number 2 draft pick, and future captain of her hometown team, but she saw him ending up in an easy and loving marriage. He took after David mostly, being shy and introspective. Despite knowing her son’s intricate list of tells and behaviours, Yuna couldn’t pretend she would ever truly know what was going through his head. Shane was like that. He always had been. Still, Yuna expected some cute, pretty girl to come around and throw Shane over her shoulder one day - similar to how Yuna had found her shy husband. ... Or how Yuna tries to understand Shane's love life for years, until she finally does.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,637
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 3 versions
- AO3:
- #77396086
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Family Emergency by Elpie (Horribibble)
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-09
The problem is that Shane Hollander is an Alpha. No. Okay. No. Technically (by order of magnitude) the problem is that: Shane Hollander is in labor → it is happening in the middle of a game → it should not be happening at all because → Shane Hollander is an Alpha. Everyone's day gets markedly more chaotic when Shane--an Alpha--goes into labor mid- game against New York. It's a good fucking thing the Raiders are playing North Carolina.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,905
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77397081
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Ilya tracked the movement with his eyes, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. Shane shuddered. He had no idea what to call this, this… electricity. He had never felt anything like it before. Deep down he was pretty sure he knew what an outsider would call this but that couldn’t be. He had dated women. Several women. The relationships had been… mostly fine? The women had been lovely. They had been good friends. They had kissed - politely and in front of people a lot of the time - it had been a usual, typical relationship. He was just a gentleman… right? As the air sucked out all his breath, as he plunged deep underwater and felt his ears beginning to pop, Shane could see Ilya moving closer to him. Gently, Ilya placed a hand on Shane’s knee, rubbing his fingertips in careful circles. Shane was sure he should have died from lack of air by now. ** Or: Ilya Rozanov only wants two things: to be a principal ballet dancer and for Shane Hollander to be his boyfriend. Unfortunately Shane doesn't know what he wants.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 30,381
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77400361
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if home is a person, i don’t want a house by ThePromptWasntThisLong (shredded_potato)
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-09
Shane has a notes app list titled 'Safeties.' It's a series of physical sensations to pull him back if he drops too deep: 1. Press tongue to roof of mouth 2. Grip something cold 3. Say your own name out loud The last one simply says: 4. Wait for him. He always comes back.
- Part 13 of Cross-Checked & Kissed (smut oneshots)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,923
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77362461
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The things Hayden will do for his wife (and his best friend) (definitely not for himself) by frizzyanya
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-09
THE MUTE BUTTON ON SHANE'S PHONE DIDN'T WORK
- Part 3 of Teammate Shenanigans
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,817
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77352206
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i pray this love changes me (this grief will) by Sapphic_terror
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-09
Shane put God on a back burner sometime between the ages of eleven and twelve. It was around that time that he barely stepped foot off the ice. His dad would joke that he was born with skates on, while his mother cursed out a grown man for a bad play. God, religion, faith came second to the rush of adrenaline as he flew on the ice. It takes seventeen years and the love of his life being dead for twenty-eight minutes to relearn how to pray. - Or, Shane's game is cancelled and he reads Ilya's would have been last messages in a tiny hotel room with JJ and Hayden at his side.
- Part 2 of found family *hockey edition
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,220
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77359391
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Winning puts things into perspective. So does losing.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,894
- Chapters:
- 3/3
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76240801
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Lonesome Is A State of Mind by zankiefanatic
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-08
Set ~6 months after The Long Game. Shane and Ilya have settled nicely into married life, and the big stressors of sneaking around are finally behind them. *Enter all that mental health shit we barely addressed at all* Ilya finds himself in the thick of a depressive episode, and Shane finds himself desperately auditioning for Husband of the Year. There is love and feelings and therapy.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,006
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77297996
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Why am I like this? by gothicgirlGXD
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-08
Shane Hollander was a weird kid Shane Hollander being weird was the price to pay due to his talent. Or at least that's what he always thought -- Or also called: The Late term Autistic Diagnosis of Shane Hollander
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,492
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77295761
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what if shane was just a little bit higher at the hospital? by moderndaydrifter
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-08
Shane accidentally says too much while on painkillers after a nasty hit against Boston.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,971
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77303121
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Shane finds himself thinking, wishing, hoping, for more than shadows with Ilya after leaving his hotel room during the All Stars. He makes the decision to come out on Instagram, belatedly coming out to his parents in a text, and then goes down to hit the punching bag in the hotel gym until his brain fizzles into a decision about Ilya. He's alone for long enough, but Ilya stays afterwards.
- Part 12 of Heated Rivalry
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,305
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77308211
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Shane has finally convinced Hayden to invite the Bears (Ilya) to his annual NHL Christmas Party. Obviously, Shane can't really help himself when Rozanov finally shows up. What time do I need to be there? I’m getting there at 8. See you at 9, Hollander. Tonight, Shane–and Ilya, apparently–were attending Hayden’s annual NHL Christmas party. This tradition started a few years back, about two after the rivals’ rookie season. Shane didn’t dare to ask to invite Ilya until recently because it would be risky, and just plain stupid. Well, he would venture to say he didn’t invite Ilya, he just mentioned that Boston would be playing in Montreal and it’d be chivalrous to ask the team to join Hayden at his massive penthouse. However, it wasn’t easy to convince him. Shane recalls Hayden’s intense sigh, which was more of a loud, elongated groan, and a dramatic throwing back of his head. It made Shane wonder if the public would rather watch a Pike versus Rozanov rivalry. Anyway, Hayden begrudgingly agreed and Shane fought back a smile. As 8 o’clock approached, Shane stood in front of his bed with three outfits laid out: a suit, a cashmere sweater and jeans, and a button up and slacks. At first he landed on the suit, slipping into it with ease. When he saw himself in the mirror, though, he could basically hear Ilya’s snobby comments. So fancy, Hollander. He shyly blinked a few times to shoo those thoughts and went back into his bedroom. He opted then for the sweater since he figured it’d be too cold for a short sleeve. As he pulled the sweater over his head he took in a deep inhale, hoping it would look presentable, at least. He examined the fit in the mirror once again, this time a small smile twitching up his lips. Shane eyed himself, loving the way his watch sparkled beside the deep blue sleeve and how his pants fit perfectly. Ilya returned in his mind, this time saying looking good, Hollander. This comment wasn’t sarcastic, it sent shivers down Shane’s neck, all the way to his lower back. The time now was 8:15, so Shane began his drive to Hayden’s. This was a drive he’s done a million times, so why was he so nervous? To distract himself from the anxiety that began to bubble up in his stomach he turned up the radio. It was playing some trashy pop song, and it honestly didn’t help him very much. Parking a few blocks away, Shane took the two minute walk to fix his hair. As his fingers wandered through the strands, he wondered if Ilya was on his way. Though he saw the man a week ago, both on the rink and in his private suite, he was anxious to see him again. Of course, nothing was going to happen, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy just being in his presence. Yes, Ilya was usually an asshole, and, yes, Ilya loved being an asshole, but Shane knew that wasn’t all he was. Shane reached the front door and could immediately hear music blasting. It was honestly pretty similar to what the radio had been playing. He wished Hayden threw a more festive Christmas party–one with mistletoe and charcuterie boards and vintage music. Instead it felt more like a club. Which, of course, Shane still enjoyed, but he liked slow moments, too. When he stepped inside he was greeted by a very, very drunk Hayden: “Shane! Ugh, you missed it, I, um,” Hayden took a deep breath and tried to figure out what he wanted to say. “Yeah, man, you missed it,” was all he could conjure. Shane shook his head and exhaled a laugh, “Already had a lot to drink?” “No, no, just a few shots.” Shane tilted his head in doubt. “Maybe a few glasses of wine, too,” Hayden smirked, “you want some?” “Uh, no, you have ginger ale?” “God, man, it’s fucking Christmas! Have a drink!” “I’m okay.” Shane shook his head and looked past Hayden. He saw Scott Hunter, still as handsome as he remembered, JJ, and a few other players he recognized by name. No Rozanov. “So, uh, you have some?” “Yeah, man, whatever. It’s in the cooler over there,” Hayden slurred, unimpressed. Shane patted him on the shoulder as he passed by. Under a table covered with drinks, Shane found a few coolers and opened a few before finding one filled with sodas. He reached for the coldest ale there was and grabbed it, quickly pulling back the tab and popping it open. As he took his first sip, he felt something brush against his arm. His eyes followed the sensation and noticed Ilya standing beside him, analyzing the different bottles of vodka laid out on the table. Shane quickly looked forward and cleared his throat, attempting to keep his gaze ahead. In his peripheral, he could see Ilya grazing his index finger over the lids of various drinks, mumbling something under his breath. Finally, he landed on one that satisfied him and poured a hefty amount in his glass. After taking a swig, Ilya turned his body toward Shane and leaned against the table. Shane couldn’t help but admire him. Unlike Shane, Ilya was wearing a loose shirt with the top three buttons undone. His cross laid perfectly underneath his collarbones, and Shane could see his stupid tattoo peaking out. For bottoms, Ilya wore tight fitted black pants and a belt with a chic silver buckle. The way the denim followed the muscles of his thighs made Shane blush. Ilya’s hair was loose golden curls, and it fell on his forehead in a way that complimented him beautifully. Without meaning to, Shane was checking Ilya out. “Like what you see, Hollander?” Ilya said, low enough that only Shane could hear. He quickly shook his head, leading his gaze back to what was in front of him. “Shut up,” he mumbled, taking another sip. Ilya smirked, his mole raising slightly as lips curled up. He hummed in response, scanning Shane in a way that made him take a sharp breath. He felt his whole body heat up as the Russian undressed him with his eyes. Shane quickly sped away from the situation, fearing that it would be too obvious if he stayed. As he walked away, Ilya couldn’t help but stare.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,604
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77311206
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olive trees by anincompletelist (soldouthaz)
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-08
When his absence and abrupt reappearance causes Shane to drop during the NHL awards, Ilya realizes he has more power over Shane than he thought he did.
- Part 1 of i'll believe in anything
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,136
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77314231