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Ilya Rozanov is not scared of many things.
But there are just some things that are ingrained in a person, instincts that will never let go.
Growing up, there were many things that were drilled into his head, and one of those was to not be stupid with the girls he was sleeping with.
Did he want to become a father at fifteen? Fuck no. Condoms, every time. No matter what she said or how horny he was. And he stuck with that rule, did his damndest to always be prepared.
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aka the condom breaks mid-sex
- Part 1 of all dwk heated rivalry fics
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,139
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77357901
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January, 2016 Ilya orders two burgers and fries for them to share. There is a can of ginger ale, which Shane takes gladly, and, there is also coleslaw salad, which Ilya insisted he got for himself, but Shane caves in and takes a forkful of it too, and, there is an ice cream sandwich, and, Shane doesn’t even like sweet things, but he bites into it as well under Ilya’s amused gaze. “What?” Shane mumbles, his mouth full. Ilya shakes his head. He looks so peaceful and truly calm, which is why Shane doesn’t expect him to open his mouth and say: “You truly are going in heat” so casually. Or, how Shane and Ilya make a baby (prequel to ‘Ice Baby’). January, 2016 Shane is boiling. And not because of the weather, but that one is pretty close. The heat is unbelievable. The weather in Los Angeles is normally pretty mild in January, but this year it turned out to be unnaturally hot, and because they were so far out in the desert, the temperatures felt almost ten times worse. It does not help that Shane feels feverish. He woke up sweaty and flushed this morning, despite the cool nighttime air he let through the open balcony doors (he doesn’t turn on the AC because he thinks it is not good for him), but now, his skin feels rigid and dry, and, no matter how much water he keeps drinking, he cannot quench down the thirst rising in his body. He spent the first half of the day wandering around in a strange haze, but, he feels calmer now, away from the nauseating scents and the constant presence of the other people surrounding him. He cannot however hide away from the sun. Even, in the shade of the umbrella and palm trees, it feels over a hundred degrees. It is past lunchtime, and most of the players of this year’s All-Star Game are back at their rooms or spending time with their families in the hotel, while Shane is one of the few, who stayed out, an unread book lying open on his chest, cover up, as he considers his options. He technically still has time to go back to his room and take a nap before this evening’s charity dinner. He is not particularly tired, but it would be wise to gather his strength after a restless night. He can also stay out and read, taking advantage of the pool, while it’s empty. Shane has a small hot tub back at his villa, but the pool is deeper and wider and Shane would love to use it to his advantage. It is so rare to carve out small moments for himself, that Shane wants to enjoy them to the fullest while he can. The mid-afternoon sun is cruel. January heat is unforgiving, and Shane sort of hopes that the promised rain, which is supposed to break out later in the day, will ease the heaviness in the air. He sinks into the sun-bed, his sunglasses perched low on his nose, then picks up the paperback and tries to focus on the words in front of him. The pool, with its smooth, crystal-like waters is calling to him. Shane sighs, giving up on reading after ten minutes, and steps towards the swimming pool. Tension lifts off his chest when he lets his feet soak in the cool water. Shane is alone, so he takes his time, entering the pool, his body relaxing under the clear surface. Swimming never failed to calm his racing mind and now it also manages to soothe the unsettling anxiety underneath his skin. Shane dives in, headfirst, and he is not thinking about anything other than the water smothering his body like a blanket. His head is completely blank which is perhaps why the arms tightening around his waist make him gasp out in surprise, and rise in panic above the surface, gulping for air. “What the fuck-!” “Found you,” a gleeful voice chirps beside his ear. Shane wants to trash out, but his movements are slow and all he manages is the fiery scowl over his shoulder, and turn round to stare at the familiar face. “We are in public!” “No one is here,” the man shrugs, but he does let go of Shane’s waist and swims to the opposite side of the pool, not even trying to look guilty after noticing the frown twisting Shane’s face. “Had to make sure you were not planning on drowning yourself.” “I know how to swim, Rozanov,” Shane huffs, “and it is now that deep in here.” The Russian gives him a playful look across the pool. Shane’s skin tingles where Ilya’s hands touched him just a moment ago, and he pushes away a longing thought, that he wants to feel the alpha’s arms wrap around him again. Rozanov takes long leisurely strokes across the pool, and Shane tries not to stare at the bulge of his muscles or at the tanned skin, glistening under the Californian sun. Los Angeles has been good to Ilya. It makes his hair curlier, and his face flushed and warm from all the tanning, and he smiles more, his teeth sharp and white against his darkened skin. Shane likes the look of eternal summer on him, and it is not good for either his heart, nor his poorly concealed desire. “I thought you wanted to swim,” Rozanov’s annoyed voice shakes Shane out of his lingering. “Come on, Hollander. Entertain me.” Shane looks around. He is worried. A part of him knows that Ilya is right, they are alone, but the idea that someone could come in, and see the two of them together, nudges him uncomfortably.
- Part 2 of Crushing In the Rink
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 8,415
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76012366
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"Hollander..." The name came out strangled, broken. "Fuck. Fuck, I forgot—" Shane understood in the same instant, the absence of latex a shocking heat inside him. Christ. or - the boys forget to use condoms for the first time Pt2 - Ilya Rozanov does, in fact, own a belt
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 8,826
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75740086
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“...Hollander,” He hears Rozanov say, urgent like it’s not the first time he’s said it. “Shane,” he follows it up with, and that snaps him out of it. He’s never called him that. Shane, reluctantly, lifts his face a little, eyes glazed over as he meets Rozanov’s eyes. “What?” “You stink,” Rozanov says, concern dripping. “No, you—fuck. You reek. What is—” Ilya’s fingers lift up, tugging at the scent patch, revealing more of the spot beneath it. Even Shane can smell himself at that point. He does reek. Reeks of heat, of Omega, of honey and sweetness, of something that would melt on your tongue. Shane reefs himself back. The Omega inside him aches, mourns, whimpers at the loss of contact. It’s needed, though. He scrambles back, hand slapping at his neck to force the peeled patch back down over his scent gland. He backs up till his spine knocks against the bathroom stall. “You are in heat at award show? Why would you hide this? Why would you not call out sick? Are you—are you insane? You care this much about trophy?” OR Shane goes into heat in Vegas
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,198
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #75437331
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I can break you off and hold you down by cellularcervix
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-11-06
“I see,” Rozanov says finally, straightening just a little. “You came to give me ethics lesson.” Shane scoffs, “ I came here to, uh—“ he falters, hands gesturing uselessly. “To set things straight.” Yeah, that works. “To set things straight,” Rozanov repeats, slow and measured. His mouth curves into a wicked grin. “Yes I can help” Shane loses count of how many times he’s frowned that day. “What do you mean ‘you can help’?” or Shane confronts the guy his girlfriend cheated on him with. It takes an unexpected turn.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,817
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #73798796
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