1 – 3 of 3 Works in Ilyhuuuh
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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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Shane Hollander learns Russian in secret, eventually it’s not a secret anymore. Shane Hollander was anything but a slacker. He took everything in his life seriously. He woke up at 5am for his morning run, then he’d spend half an hour in his home gym before showering, eating a well balanced breakfast, and heading to the rink for whatever the team had planned that day. He took his routine seriously, and in turn, everything else seemed to fall into place. He was fast, on his feet and on the ice. He was strong, to the point where he could effortlessly pin some of the biggest guys in the league to the boards and slip the puck off their stick and onto his own. He even managed to finish his daily sudoku in about 5 minutes every day. He took to French like a fish took to water, that’s why he was so frustrated when he first started picking up phrases in Russian. He couldn’t manage to wrap his mind around the language at first, couldn’t make his mouth move correctly to get it just right. He spent hours staring at himself in the mirror trying to find the right way to move his mouth for different words, recording his own attempts and comparing it to the audio guide on the app he’d downloaded. He’s not sure why he started learning Russian, maybe it was to get an edge over Rozanov, to know what he would mutter on the ice, or whisper against his neck as he pushed inside of him. Or maybe it was because he had two teammates who spoke Russian and he was the captain, he couldn’t have his teammates feeling ostracized, could he? (They had little to nothing to do with his decision, but he refuses to acknowledge that). He had come a far way from where he was the first year, where he used to stumble and trip over the pronunciations, he now glided through them perfectly, at least that’s what the teacher he had hired around year 2 said. He felt confident he could carry conversations now, banter back and forth with his friends. He doesn’t know for sure, because the only person on the planet that knows about his Russian hobby is his teacher, Tonya. They had just finished their session for this week, he always felt strange after a session, a weird ball of guilt and shame welling up in the pit of his stomach he didn’t fully understand. It might have something to do with the Russian currently texting him, but he tried to block that out. Lily: Are your legs still shaking from last time? You skate like baby deer tonight. He rolled his eyes before typing his response Jane: Fuck yourself, I was skating fine. He was, it wasn’t his best night, and it pains him to admit it, but he’ll play better on Friday and that’s all that matters. He still scored a goal and got an assist. Lily: You will be shaking again in a week, yes? ;) Jane: Someone’s full of themselves. And he knew the second he sent it, he had walked right into a trap, he expected the response before he got it Lily: You can be full of me too. Shane turned his phone off and felt the flush creep up his cheeks. He should be used to the comments by now, but he’s not. And it’s only gotten worse since he’s started learning the others native tongue. All the whispered comments he makes, the words grazing his skin as he takes him apart. Sometimes he feels guilty for not telling him he knows what he’s saying, and then Rozanov calls him beautiful again and his brain shuts off. Before he’d thought whatever he was saying would be dirty, so filthy that Shane wouldn’t even want to know, and there are plenty of dirty things that have tumbled out in Russian, but mostly it’s soft praise ‘you’re so gorgeous’, ‘your little noises are beautiful’, ‘my pretty boy’. It might be one of the reasons he still refuses to tell him he knows, because what if he stops saying them? He puts all his things back where they belong, his Russian language book goes back in the bottom drawer, stuffed under two hockey biographies he knows nobody will care to read if they end up snooping, and his notebook filled with phrases, tips and notes gets put back in a bag that sits on the floor beside his desk, filled with random papers and forms. As he walks around his house that evening he’s practicing what they had went over in his lesson, wrapping his tongue around the words until they feel perfect before moving on to the next. Maybe he’ll finally work up the courage to tell his Russian teammates soon, then they could talk to him without trying to grasp the correct words after a particularly hard game, or a gruelling workout. Probably not, but it would be nice. ==== He was making an early lunch for himself before an afternoon practice when he stubbed his toe on the island, it happened without him even noticing at first. He had been going over some of his notes, and was practicing a few phrases he had heard in a post game interview with a Russian goalie on Washington’s team. So it wasn’t that surprising when he muttered a quiet “fuck” in Russian. He was actually a little proud, curse words had been one of the first things he learned, before he fully committed to his secret lessons, he would listen to certain words Rozanov would say, wether it was a whispered praise just for Shane’s ears, or a frustrated exclamation during a game, he would file it away and repeat it in his head until he got somewhere he could search it up. Rozanov’s favourite seemed to be “fuck”. Which Shane understood, it sounded rough, and aggressive, it felt dull in his mouth whenever he had practiced, different to English cursing. Not to mention it worked for most settings the Russian would curse in. Shane hadn’t thought twice about his slip up, just rubbed his foot and went on about fishing up his rice and chicken before heading out for practice. Nobody was around to hear him, it was nothing.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,347
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76832806
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Nobody knows. Shane and Ilya are in love and nobody knows, it’s starting to drive him crazy. He just wants his friends to accept it and move on, but it’s a work in progress. Shane never wanted to leave this bed. It was warm, his mind was quiet, he had no worries in this bed. His boyfriend had made sure to fuck all his worries away. And now he was cuddled up with him, counting his heartbeats, and tracing patters over his shoulder. He’s been so stressed lately. The hiding was finally catching up to him, the sneaking around, the mysterious texts, disappearing on his team without an explanation, trying to worm his way out of questions he couldn’t answer. It was exhausting, even with him and Ilya being closer than ever, emotionally and physically. This season has been more tiring than any other, and it’s not even half over. He knew what he needed to do, but he was dreading it. He wanted the whole world to know about them without having to answer questions about it. We’re in love, move on. “We need to get up. You have two hour drive back, and practice in the morning” Ilya presses a kiss into his hair, jostling him slightly as he moves to get up. Shane puts a hand on his chest to make him stay “just one more minute, please” he tried to keep his voice steady, like he wasn’t breaking apart at the seams. “What is wrong?” He tried to duck his head and get a look into his lovers eyes, but Shane shied away, turning into Ilyas neck to hide his face “hey…hey, come here, look at me” he gently pried Shane’s face out of hiding and looked in his glossy eyes. “what is wrong?” He asked agin, this time Shane had nowhere to hide, he let it all show on his face, his lip quivered, his eyes overflowed, his breathing stuttered. Ilya quickly pulled him back to his chest, hugging him close, running his fingers through Shane’s hair softly, soothingly. “I hate this. I’m sorry, I know I’m acting stupid but” he cut himself off with a whimper “no, is not stupid. I hate it too, I miss you so much when you are gone, my love” he whispered, hoping the quiet words would relax him a little. “I just wish we didn’t have to hide, I know I’ve been adamant about not coming out, but I want to. I want to hold your hand, and kiss you, and love you. I want to tell everyone I love you, I just hate that they’ll have opinions” he was rambling, and as much as Ilyas heart fluttered at the thought, Shane Hollander shouting his love for Ilya Rozanov from the rooftops, or maybe from centre ice, he had to calm him down first. “I know, is awful, but no matter what we do, what happens, we will still have this. I will still have you, in my bed, naked” he grinned as Shane lightly smacked his chest “nobody can take that away, opinions can’t take this away” he finished, smiling sadly onto Shane’s hairline, pressing little kisses all over. “I want to come out” Shane whispered, and Ilya nodded solemnly, he did too. But Shane shook his head and sat up “no, like, I want to come out. To the team at least” and Ilyas heart stopped. They had talked about it before, many many many times before, but Shane was always too frightened, and understandably in Ilyas opinion, his team was awful. But he hadn’t pushed, didn’t want to make Shane feel bad about things he couldn’t control. “you mean, you want to tell them you are into men?” He asked carefully, not wanting to get his hopes up, of course he wanted to world to know Shane Hollander was his (including the voyagers stupid team), but he would take it at his pace, not pushing, just supporting. “well yes, but no. I want to tell them about us. Me and you” he took a deep breath, as if waiting for Ilya to get mad, but all he could do was smile. He was scared, absolutely terrified, but he didn’t care right now. Right now his boyfriend was saying he wanted to tell his whole world, his team, that he was in love with him. And that felt like winning the lottery, twice, hell. It felt like winning the world. “okay, then we tell them, do you want to do it on your own? Or would you like me to be there?” He secretly hoped Shane would ask him to be there, in case anyone got any ideas Ilya had to remind them how big of an asshole he could be. “I’d like you there, if that’s okay with you, you don’t have to if you don’t want to- I just think. It might be easier to explain” he was rambling again, and Ilya loved it. He loved him. So much. he laced his fingers through Shane’s twisted hands, squeezing. “I will be wherever you need me to be” he said seriously, needing Shane to know he was in this, completely. “okay, we’ll talk to them next time we’re all together. I think you play in Montreal in a couple weeks, right?” Ilya almost laughed, as if he was waiting that long. “I have a next weekend off, I will come in then, if that is okay with you” he was already planning the trip in his head, leave after practice on Friday afternoon, be in Montreal by 3, spend the day fucking any stray thoughts from Shane’s mind, tell his team Saturday morning, spend the rest of the weekend fucking him again. Perfect weekend. “oh. Okay, yeah, we can do that” he looked almost surprised, as if he didn’t already know Ilya would move heaven and earth for him. “okay, now. Don’t worry about that” he said, knowing that’s all Shane was going to be doing “how about I fuck you again before you leave” he smirked and crawled over him, knocking Shane onto his back again. Shane laughed and weakly pushed at his chest “I have to leave in like 10 minutes” Ilya gently bit his neck “bet I could make you cum in 4” ==== It was Friday afternoon, he had just pulled into a parking space behind Shane's apartment building. He quickly grabbed his bag, punched in the door code, and ran up the stairs. He wasn’t sure what he expected to see when he walked in, but this. This was not it. Shane was lying in the middle of the living room floor, the coffee table had been pushed to the side, he had headphones on, and a blanket resting over his eyes. What the fuck? he put his bags down near the entrance and slowly walked over, calling Shane’s name “baby. Shane. Are you okay?” He poked Shane’s thigh with his toe and Shane jumped, quickly
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,831
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76889306