241 – 260 of 498 Works in Canon Compliant
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Of all things, it starts with a tweet. It’s a picture of Scott in a People magazine Sexiest Man of the Year roundup. Not the cover star, but a stylish photoshoot, wearing skintight Under Armour, looking coquettishly over one shoulder. His friend’s tweet reads: “am i crazy or is this low key kind of fruity?”
---
Or, Scott and Kip fall in love again.
- Part 1 of a new name for everything
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 10,310
- Chapters:
- 4/4
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77275241
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Shane has a system. It includes a forgotten sweater. Sometimes, confrontation was a soft gray sweater, puddled next to a bed. Shane had spent the better part of his life only confronting people on the ice. It was so much easier to be pulled along the rest of the time, nodding at the right times and smiling faintly when he wasn't sure if something was meant to be funny or not. Sometimes, he pushed back a little with his parents because he knew they'd still love him, even if his rare shows of mild defiance bemused them, but otherwise, he found it best to keep his opinions to himself. Head down, watch the puck, tune the rest of it out. Until Rozanov. "You like this," Rozanov challenged. "You want this?" Shane did. Fuck, but he wanted it. He wanted Rozanov's jackal grin and cackle. He wanted his bite and his shove. Rozanov, who had never backed down from a fight, who liked to instigate them whenever he could. Shane wanted to devour that fire and have it for himself. It was so much easier to tell Rozanov to fuck off when they were in bed than it was anyone else in much more sensible situations. "What happened to nice polite boy?" Rozanov mocked as Shane arched underneath him, cursing and clawing at him. "Fuck you," Shane breathed out. "Harder." "Please," Rozanov nipped at Shane's bottom lip. "Say it." "No," Shane grinned at him, too wide and wild. "Rude," Rozanov declared and laughed, adjusting his position minutely, before going harder. And then Rozanaov left with an obscenely filthy kiss, licking the envelope on the promise of another time. Both of them were still tacky with sweat and come. A shower would be smarter, but there was a flight to catch. Traces of Shane would be stuck to Rozanov for hours, lingering under his tank top and painted on under his pants. The thought was enervating and Shane got up to shower alone, touching all the slightly sore places where Rozanov had been like following a hiking trail deep into the woods. Damp and exhausted, Shane shuffled back into the room and spotted the sweater. For a moment, he froze. Would Rozanov still be close enough to return it? Surely not. The race for the red eye would've already begun. Had he left it here on purpose? If so, for what? A taunt? A question? Or had he discarded it entirely by accident in his rush? Shane picked it up and ran his hands over the material. It was probably cashmere, if only because Rozanov would like something expensive like that. Shane started folding it automatically until it was a neat rectangle in his hands. Then Shane was stuck. Did he pack it in with his things? Carry it with him for months until he might see Rozanov again? And do what? Return it? Was that a thing he could do? Oh, sorry, you left this on the floor last time you fucked my brains out. I didn't know if it needed to be dry cleaned, so I didn't wash it. What was the protocol on that? Shane stood mostly naked in front of a bed that was drenched in their hit and run passions, dithering over returning a sweater. "Fuck you, Rozanov," he said tiredly to no one at all. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Shane hung his head low, rolling it from side to side, trying to undo the sudden tension in his neck. His fingers dug too hard into the sweater. There was a stray hair caught at the neckline, a tiny vein of gold in gray stone. Shane plucked at it, pulling it out. As soon as it was free, it curled up again, clinging around his finger. There was no one here to watch. No one to see. Nothing to hear. Shane still hesitated. Then very slowly, he lifted the sweater to his nose and sniffed. Cigarette smoke, a hint of sweat, and all too familiar cologne. That's what Rozanov's hair smelled like too, the brush of curls over Shane's face almost like another hand caressing him sometimes. Fuck. Shane never fully unpacked after away games. There wasn't a point. Instead, he had a careful system with a laundry bag and neatly stacked clean clothes beneath. The sweater should go in with the dirty laundry. Instead, he folded it between his clean hoodies, pressed there like a flower caught between pages of a book. If there had really been a confrontation with the sweater, Shane was almost positive he'd lost. When he finally got home, the sweater should've gone to live in a drawer in his apartment until he was sure he had a chance of seeing Rozanov again. But Shane didn't usually unpack the clean clothes from his suitcase. It was part of the system. He only had to assess what was still there and add things back in before leaving. Even his little bathroom bag had had the same refillable containers since rookie season. Top off as needed. So, the sweater stayed in his luggage. Shane didn't think about it. Much.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,403
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77272646
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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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i want you flowing through my veins by geminicat
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-06
“Ilya —” Shane tries, voice trailing off. He swallows. “Spitinmymouth,” he finally mumbles under his breath. Ilya raises an eyebrow, clearly not hearing. “Hollander,” Ilya starts. His voice makes Shane twitch. “I already learned English, I cannot also learn secret Shane sex language.”
- Language:
- English
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- 3,360
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- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77177696
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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
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falling into place by probablylily
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-06
Somehow, Yuna ends up washing dishes side-by-side with Ilya Rozanov. Shane had resisted her help—telling her to sit back down—it was his cottage, he'd wash the dishes, but Yuna needed her hands to be busy. Needed to be alone, really. But that last piece didn't work out. Rozanov—Ilya. He asked them to call him Ilya— slipped into the kitchen easily, and took up the task of drying and putting the dishes away without a word. ——— Yuna talks to Ilya after their dinner at the cottage. Set after episode 6.
- Language:
- English
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- 1,506
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- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77183161
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After the longest season of his career, Ilya retreats to the cottage with Shane, expecting rest, recovery, and a month of stolen peace. Instead, exhaustion lingers. Small things feel wrong. And the body that has always carried him through pain begins to falter in ways he can’t explain. As concern grows and outside eyes begin to notice, the life Ilya and Shane have carefully built—careers, borders, futures—starts to feel fragile. When a medical crisis shatters their summer before answers arrive, love is no longer something they protect quietly. It becomes something they fight with. A story about what happens when the body speaks before you’re ready to listen, and the people who refuse to let you face it alone.
- Part 1 of The Quiet Fight
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 55,266
- Chapters:
- 30/30
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77401491
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You Have Reached Lily by ItsMayBiTheWay
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-06
Hayden finds Lily’s contact and touches the little call button. After a short time, the call connects. “Shane,” a breathless sound reaches his ear, a broken heavy Russian accent cut off by a choked up sob. “You scared me.” Hayden hangs up. OR Hayden calls Lily after Shane’s injury
- Part 1 of Hayden Pike Hockey-matic Universe
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- English
- Words:
- 3,729
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- 1/1
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- 3 versions
- AO3:
- #77222266
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Hayden keeps trying to call, but with only three days until Ilya leaves the cottage, Shane doesn't feel like answering. He's jealous, Yuna and David are understanding, and Ilya finds a way to bag out Hayden Pike and Scott Hunter, be not so secretly possessive about his boyfriend, and declare his intentions to be future father of the year all in the space of two minutes.
- Part 4 of all the things they (finally) said
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- English
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- 1,092
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- AO3:
- #77127616
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Shirt swapping or jersey swapping is a tradition in sports where players of opposing teams swap jerseys with each other at the end of a match as a sign of mutual respect.
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- English
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- 6,245
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- 1
- AO3:
- #77158706
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bite me babe (you make me love the pain) by subbyjeongguk
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-05
shane never thought he would get such a nice boyfriend, and he surely had never thought he would get one that would bite him and hurt him in a way that felt so good. or, ilya and shane explore more bdsm, specifically biting and spanking. (canon universe/post-cottage & episode 6, soft/hard dom ilya & sub space shane)
- Part 2 of shane & ilya vs bdsm!
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,643
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77117591
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shane snoopy @h0llanov [a picture of Ilya hovering around Shane collapsed on the ice in the game against Boston] i’m starting a rumor 6 likes, 6 replies REPLIES: charles @16_cherie Replying to @h0llanov is it woke to say that guys can just be friends? 9 likes, 1 reply shane snoopy @h0llanov Replying to @h0llanov and 16_cherie oh NOW they’re friends instead of the enemies shit y’all keep pushing sometimes a man is GAY 1 like, 8 replies Twitter follows Shane and Ilya's heated rivalry from 2008 to 2021, but nobody believes in their relationship as much as user @h0llanov.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 9,307
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77112631
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the things you buy, the secrets i keep by sleepberries
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-05
Amélie's work days are usually boring. Sit at the counter, help people find things, process orders. If she's lucky, she'll get great commission when someone shows up to spend money for money's sake. Her only companions her phone and the near constant presence of Shane Hollander's Rolex campaigns. So, boring. Until Shane Hollander walks through the door.
- Part 1 of heated rivalry by me ❤
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,627
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77107921
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#shayden: or, ilya rozanov falls to his knees in a walmart by twiaerose
Heated Rivalry (TV)
2026-01-05
“Ilya scrolls through the feed and feels a dawning sense of horror. The feed is filled with pictures of Pike and Shane at an aquarium, with Shane holding Pike’s baby and generally looking adoring. And it’s #shayden over and over. “It’s a combination of their names,” Marleau snickers by way of explanation. “People think they’re on a date.” 5 times Ilya gets jealous of Hayden Pike, and 1 time Shane realizes what’s happening.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,312
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77166946
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"Quiet, I'm trying to say something." Shane waits. Ilya says nothing, but taps the side of Shane's head, as if prompting. "Okay. Well. I think… I think I kind of liked it?" Ilya continues to not say anything for a long moment, and then he grabs Shane's face and peers down at him. "Did you get new concussion while I was not looking?" he asks, brow furrowed. The genuine concern in his eyes makes Shane bristle. "Did you not see glass and run into the window like dumb bird?" "Fuck off," Shane sighs, rolling his eyes. "I'm being serious." "So am I!" Ilya insists with real worry. "Either your old concussion is not gone and it is making you say things, or you got new concussion 'cause you liked it so much! And both is very bad!" Or; Shane discovers that he sometimes needs to get literally knocked out of his own head for some much needed peace and quiet. Ilya has never pulled his punches, and he doesn't intend to start now.
- Part 1 of KNOCKOUT!
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- English
- Words:
- 5,692
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- 1/1
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- 1
- AO3:
- #77116761
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if Ilya came back to see Shane in the hospital while he's recovering from his concussion
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- English
- Words:
- 2,452
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- 1/1
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- 1
- AO3:
- #77115496
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Ilya finally apologizes for ghosting Shane for six months.
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- English
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- 1,618
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- 1/1
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- 1
- AO3:
- #77144141
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“Sub thing is your thing, Hollander,” Ilya reminds him. Slowly, Shane argues, “Actually, I don’t think it is. I mean, yeah, that part is my thing. But I think you like it, too.” “Always like sex with you.” “Not the sex. Or – yeah, of course it’s the sex too. But I think it’s for reasons other than just the sex.” A chuckle bubbles up out of Ilya, and it dislodges the lump in his throat just a little. “Always so many words and you make no sense.” Laughing too, Shane explains, “What I mean is, the whole being a dom, thing. I think it’s good for you, too, and not just because the sex is fun. I think it settles you, in the same way it settles me.” On the anniversary of his father's death Ilya is feeling unsteady; Shane has an idea.
- Part 3 of Ilya and Shane explore gentle BDSM!
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,506
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77158956
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Shane wrote in the car. He wrote on the couch of Ilya’s house in Ottawa and his own apartment in Montreal. Ilya often woke up to find him in bed with a pen in his hand, scribbling. It wasn’t until they got to the cottage that Shane forgot to put one away, or throw it out, whatever he did with them when he’d used all the available space. Ilya found one on the kitchen table, a well-worn, lined bit of paper with deep creases just lying there as he was trying to clean up. He hesitated for just a second. If Shane wanted him to see them, wouldn’t he have said something by now? But also, Ilya was beginning to feel jealous of these papers, for knowing things about Shane that he didn’t. Ilya unfolded it, holding it delicately between his fingertips. I want to be able to pick out produce at the grocery store, it read. I want to go for a run on the beach. I want to schedule our dentist’s appointments at the same time because it’s easier. I want to have a picture of him in my wallet. I want to kiss him at the farmer’s market in front of the stand with all the blueberries when he insists we get some because I like them. (ilya wants to know what shane is writing down on his little notepad... obviously it is love)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,870
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77166306
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“Shane,” Ilya whispers. “Yes?” “What is wrong?” “Nothing,” Shane says. “It’s great.” “Hollander. You look like you will throw up or cry into fire. Both will ruin mood.” --- Shane and Ilya have to leave the cottage eventually. Shane spirals about it. Ilya makes it better. Shane is trying very much to enjoy his last evening with Ilya at the cottage. He is trying so much that he feels queasy. All he can think about as Ilya strokes his back and kisses his hair while they sit by the fire, is less than fourteen hours now. Thirteen and a half. Thirteen and a quarter. He can’t bear thinking of Ilya leaving, but he also can’t not think about it for even a second. “Shane,” Ilya whispers. “Yes?” “What is wrong?” “Nothing,” Shane says. “It’s great.” “Hollander. You look like you will throw up or cry into fire. Both will ruin mood.” And Shane definitely can’t tell Ilya what’s actually wrong because then he won’t just have ruined what’s left of the mood, he’ll have completely destroyed it, and then Shane fucking up will cast a shadow over their entire time here and Ilya will always think that it wasn’t actually that good and maybe he won’t want to come back, ever, and - “Shane. You said to say what we really feel while we are here. Say what you need.” “Fuck me,” Shane says. “Make me stop thinking about tomorrow.” Ilya kisses him, softly. “Okay,” he says. “Would you like it if I take these dishes inside and clean up and you go to bed and get yourself ready for me?” A gasp escapes Shane’s mouth, he can’t help it. The thought of lying in his bed, opening himself up while Ilya is loading the dishwasher down the hall, has him half-hard already. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah, I’d like that.” Ilya grins, and kisses him again. “Get started. I will see you in few minutes.” Only once he’s naked and fucking himself open with two fingers does Shane realise that he left the bedroom door wide open. It wasn’t on purpose, not really, except somehow it was. He can hear the clinks of cutlery and plates, the sliding of the dishwasher racks. He closes his eyes and pictures Ilya moving around the kitchen, unhurried, sure that Shane will be ready exactly when Ilya will want him. Shane still can hardly believe that Ilya is here, much less how settled he seems. But he won’t be settled here any more in thirteen hours. Shane forces his thoughts back to the present. Ilya will be with him soon. Shane wants to be ready, wants Ilya to be proud of him. Ilya will make him forget all about tomorrow. Just the anticipation is driving Shane wild. He wraps his free hand around his cock, stroking himself a couple of times, just to take the edge off a little. It doesn’t work, and he ends up moaning more loudly than he intended. He hears Ilya laugh from across the hallway. “Hollander, slow down. I still have to soak pans!” “Asshole,” Shane shouts. He opens his eyes again to glare at the open door. “Fucking hurry!” “No,” Ilya calls back to him. “Have to be thorough. Otherwise will be nightmare to clean. You like everything very clean, no?” Shane groans, half in frustration, half in arousal. But he can’t tell Ilya not to soak the pans. They can’t just leave them out on the counter all night without soaking them. That would be crazy. “Maybe I stay in kitchen for a while,” Ilya sing-songs. “Make cup of tea. Ah, here is camomile. Very healthy. You want tea?” “Fuck you, Rozanov!” Ilya laughs again. “So impatient, Hollander. I told you, slow down.” Shane curses some more but obeys, stops working himself open and just brushes his fingers over the most sensitive spots, sighing and enjoying the sensation, little sparks up his spine. And soon Ilya will be here. Soon Ilya will take Shane out of his head, and maybe they’ll say I love you again. Maybe Ilya will say it in Russian again, too. Ya tebya lyublyu. Shane looked it up the other day. He plans to practise saying it until he thinks it sounds okay, as close to Ilya’s pronunciation as he can manage. Then he’ll say it back to Ilya, so Ilya can hear that Shane loves him in his own language. He loses himself a little, floating for a couple of minutes, maybe longer. Eventually, he hears Ilya’s steps and comes out of it, starting to panic. He’s not ready yet. He got too distracted, too calm, enjoyed himself too much, stopped focusing on the objective. He was meant to get himself ready for Ilya to be able to fuck him straight away, and now he isn’t. Ilya looks stunning stepping into the room, framed by the light shining in through the doorway behind him. He’s already lost most of his clothes in the hallway by the look of things. He kneels on the bed, hungrily raking his eyes over Shane. “Sorry,” Shane whispers. “I was too slow, I’m not quite there yet -” “Hollander,” Ilya says firmly. “Is no hurry. I told you to slow down. You slowed down. You are perfect. Always, always good for me.” Shane has no idea why the words hit like they do, but fuck do they ever. He starts up properly again, arching his spine, pushing back against his own fingers. “Fucking gorgeous,” Ilya murmurs.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,200
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77166276