41 – 60 of 122 Works in Episode: s01e06 The Cottage (Heated Rivalry)
- Episode: s01e06 The Cottage (Heated Rivalry) ×
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While at the cottage, Shane takes Ilya on an evening kayak ride across the lake. It goes super well, obviously, because they’re both extremely athletic and extremely mature individuals. “Well? Get in!” Shane said. “I will fall over,” Ilya said. “No, you won’t. You’re a professional athlete and I’m holding the boat. Don’t be a baby.”
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Ilya is like his mother in the way that he plays with fireworks and skates on not quite frozen rivers. Shane often finds himself lost in translation. ~~~ An exploration of Ilya and Shane, their mental health, and their relationships
- Part 1 of mental health fics to exorcise my demons
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Shane Hollander was no violent man. He didn't fight on the ice, which he could. Really even he should. It’d certainly be a good excuse for Shane to touch Ilya more. Their collective rivalry branding surely would do well with them fighting from time to time. When Ilya slammed him into the rink wall last January or so (during his period with Rose) the commentators went wild. There were gifs of it all over Twitter. But if anything Shane Hollander was notable expressly because he didn’t fight on the ice, nor off. Even when provoked.
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And he does like doing things for Shane. There are many opportunities now, after all the ones he missed before. Now is the time to catch up. He will stand here on the side of the highway, pumping gas into Shane’s boring car, and think of all the new ways he will take care of him. — The boys hit a rest stop on their way to the cottage.
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Amber, still asleep on his chest, makes an unhappy noise. Jacki sticks her head through the door and says, “Swear jar!” She shakes her head. “How’s Shane?” Getting a blowjob from Ilya Rozanov, Hayden doesn’t say, because that sentence can’t exist in reality. “Good. He says he’s—feeling good.” It sure sounds like he’s feeling good. Jacki nods. “Is he back with Boston Lily now that he and Rose Landry broke up?” “What?” A horrible thought occurs to Hayden. “I was just thinking, next time she comes up to Montreal for a game, we should have them over.” “Comes up to Montreal?” Hayden’s palms are a little sweaty. He wonders if this is what having a panic attack feels like. “I mean.” Jacki smiles at him like he’s very stupid. “You always tell me Shane is busy after home games against Boston. I assume he’s with her.”
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Ilya doesn't know how to be a boyfriend. Neither does Shane. They figure it out.
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Shane rolls his eyes and looks away, unable to maintain eye contact. “You don’t,” he whispers, and Ilya pushes himself to his feet, approaching Shane warily, like any sudden movements will scare him away. “Shane,” he says, reaching out and taking one of Shane’s hands, “look at me.” He waits, and waits, for Shane to turn his attention back to him. “Why would I lie? You said you wanted us to be honest, I am being honest.” A tear finally escapes and runs down Shane’s cheek. He doesn’t appear to notice. “You love me.” It’s a statement, not a question.
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Ilya wants so many mornings with Shane that he takes waking up to those freckles for granted. He wants to know how Shane takes his coffee, how he picks out his clothes, what he puts in those stupid healthy smoothies he’s always drinking. He wants to know everything about Shane, all the little things that he’s never seen before. He wants to know him. Better than he knows himself. And it’s terrifying. So Ilya deals with his feelings the only way he knows how - (kitchen) sex Ilya has known Shane for his entire NHL career. Almost 10 years, off and on, in hotel rooms and apartments, through loss and trauma and stolen moments. Ilya knows what Shane looks like when he’s thinking too deeply, when he needs help to shut off his brain. When he’s desperate, needy and right on the edge. Ilya knows what he looks like when he cums, hands free, moaning out Ilya’s name into the air like a prayer. And he knows that look Shane has, impossibly fond, the one that always turns Ilya’s guts inside out. He knows he loves him, and he knows - terrifyingly - that Shane might just love him back. But he doesn’t know Shane. It’s never more apparent to him than now, standing in Shane’s cottage, waiting for the coffee to finish percolating. It’s the first time that he’s been alone in Shane’s home and he’s fascinated. It’s even more Shane than the apartment he’s only seen in the background of Facetime calls. Shane once admitted that most things in his apartment were picked out by a designer he hired when he first moved to Montreal. This place though? It has the little touches that just scream Shane’s practical taste - in the furniture, the art, and cheesy throw pillows his mom must have bought him. Ilya sees him in the family photos on the wall, moments in Shane’s life that he’s never even heard about before. Ilya wants to belong here. He wants to be in the photos on the wall, to have a say on the new rug that Shane talked about getting under the dining room table. He wants to wake up next to Shane beyond just these two weeks. Ilya wants so many mornings with Shane that he takes waking up to those freckles for granted. He wants to know how Shane takes his coffee, how he picks out his clothes, what he puts in those stupid healthy smoothies he’s always drinking. He wants to know everything about Shane, all the little things that he’s never seen before. He wants to know him. Better than he knows himself. And it’s terrifying. “You know,” Shane says, brushing past Ilya in the kitchen. “It doesn’t actually drip faster if you stare at it like that.” “No? Thought that was the saying - a watched pot always boils.” Shane laughs as he pours himself a cup, so at home here, in his loose t-shirt that’s wet at the collar from his shower. “A watched pot never boils. Coffee?” “Da. Your English idioms are stupid.” “Agree with you there. How do you take it?” “Black is fine.” Shane hands him the cup he just poured, in some cheesy tourist mug from some attraction in Ottowa. He pours another mug, and Ilya watches intently at the amount of milk that Shane pours into his mug. Shane’s oblivious to Ilya’s observation, he sips his coffee, looking at the lake out of the window. “Looks like it might rain today. I was hoping we could take out the kayaks.” “You have kayaks?” He’s distracted, not quite sure what a kayak is beyond some kind of boat. Ilya’s attention has moved to the way that Shane’s throat moves when he swallows his coffee, and the way that the water from his hair slides across it, soaking into the collar of his shirt. God, he wants Shane in so many ways but this is the most familiar. The heavy swooping in his gut, the way that he knows, instinctively, how Shane will react when he touches him. It’s familiar. He wants it now. Doesn’t think he’ll ever stop wanting it. “Yeah, it’s a good workout, going across the bay and back.” He crosses to the fridge, opens it to stare inside. “What do you want for breakfast?” He’s close enough now that Ilya can reach out, tug at his elbow until he’s closer. “What?” Shane asks, standing in front of him. “Hungry for something else,” Ilya says, taking the coffee mug out of his hands, setting them both behind him on the counter. “Want you.” “I just showered,” Shane sighs as Ilya’s lips land on the mark he left the night before, tongue sliding to taste every inch of him. “Ilya…” And god, Ilya’s addicted to the way that his first
- Part 1 of Got Me Goin’ Like (Ooh)
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David just wants to get his charger. And maybe check in on his son. His day doesn't go as planned.
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“So… you’ve tried stuff. Stuff we haven’t tried yet…” There isn’t a clear question in any of this, yet. Ilya has never thought Shane was the type to care about body count, so he assumes this is about something other than his past proclivities. “Shane. Is there question in there, somewhere?” “I’m just curious! Like, were you, y’know, bossy with other people?” “Usually. If that’s what they wanted. I have always liked it,” Ilya shrugged. Shane took a moment, visibly digesting that in his head. Eyebrows scrunched, eyes locked onto the crease between the couch cushions. Ilya pats his knee, giving him a moment. “Have you tied someone up?” He finally asks, quietly. Shane is just trying to get used to asking for what he wants, alright?
- Part 2 of Today I Fell, and Felt Better
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I could marry Svetlana. A noise built in his head. A steady, growing sound—and the more he thought about what had just happened, the harder it became to hear anything else. Another rush of noise pulsed behind his eyes. He twisted the tap to icy cold and splashed his face—the same water he’d praised not long ago, feeling sheepish and suddenly not knowing what to say. But they didn’t need words anymore. He’d thought so. His head felt ready to burst. He cupped a handful of water and poured it over his neck, gasping involuntarily. He stood there wet and shaking, water soaking through his shirt. He hated it. He hated how sticky it felt, how it clung to his burning skin—hated it as much as he’d hated that godawful ad shoot where they kept pouring water over him and touching him — “Shane?” Ilya’s voice cut through the noise, both in his head and through the bathroom door. Leave me alone. “Shane, are you okay?” Please leave me alone. Please do it now so it doesn’t hurt later.
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I'm coming home, I'm coming home Dust off the idols Give them something to eat or; david and ilya are left alone for the first time.
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He thinks of Ilya’s commanding tone: “Hollander, here”, “take it for me”, or Shane’s personal favorite, “kneel.” Shane, through all these years, has been amazed that to Ilya these little commands are so casual, just a part of fucking for him. To Shane, these words are all consuming. They shut off the hyperactive part of his brain and he can just… enjoy. Ilya takes over, makes Shane feel good, uses Shane to feel good, and Shane goes gooey for it every time. He’s never known peace like getting railed by Ilya Rozanov. Shane knows you can't eat your cake and have it, too. He knows that asking too much of Ilya would be plain selfish. Knows that asking to be told exactly what to do so he can shut his brain off isn't normal. And Ilya... well he doesn't think Shane knows shit.
- Part 1 of Today I Fell, and Felt Better
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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
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My take on what David and Ilya talked about while Shane and Yuna were outside. Ilya is not used to healthy parental domesticity...
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Shane goes into a planned heat at the cottage.
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While Shane and Yuna have a heart-to-heart outside, David and Ilya make lunch and some important conversations are had.
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Set at The Cottage, the morning after their first night there. Shane’s making omelets in the kitchen while Ilya sits at the bar. He offered to help, but Shane wants to do this, wants to show Ilya how glad he is to have him in his home. Ilya teases him, but it warms his heart the way Shane dotes on him, carrying his bag and buying him Cokes and making too many burgers when Ilya is fairly certain Shane doesn’t even eat burgers. Shane keeps showing him, in a million tiny little ways, how much he cares. Ilya can’t think about that too much or he’ll crumble into a sobbing mess. When Ilya made the decision to come to the cottage, to let himself have this, he didn’t fully understand how overwhelming it would feel. He didn’t understand the full impact on his heart, the two of them, being naked together in the daylight, dinner on the patio, talking by the fire, falling asleep intertwined with no worry about tomorrow. He’d almost cracked last night as they went to sleep, no one rushing off, no scared eyes or hushes goodbyes, no worry about being discovered or what someone else might think. They’d just held each other and drifted off like it was the easiest thing in the world. Ilya watches Shane, chin in hand, as he moves around the kitchen just so, making everything perfect. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours but Ilya already feels settled here. Like this home could be their home. Maybe. Maybe. Shane sets a steaming plate in front of him, a mug of coffee, a kiss on the cheek, then gets his own. Ilya takes a bite and hums in contentment. “So good. You should quit hockey and open restaurant. Burgers and omelets.” Shane laughs. “In your dreams.” “But you are so much better at cooking than being hockey player.” Ilya winks at him and Shane grins. They eat in companionable silence, unable to take their eyes off each longer than a few seconds. Ilya thinks about Shane’s request from yesterday, how earnest he was about it. He makes a quick decision to say something before he can talk himself out of it. “So, Hollander. You said we should be honest with each other while we’re here.” Shane turns to face him, a nervous question in his eyes like, okay, yes, I’m ready. “I really liked sleeping next to you.” Ilya’s expression is resolute, like he’s trying so hard to get the words out. “I liked waking up with you.” He shrugs, deflecting his deeper emotion. “It was nice.” Shane smiles at his plate. “It was nice.” He watches as Ilya takes a bite of his omelet, watches his jaw as he chews, his lips. Ilya loves the way Shane looks at him, the way he holds himself so still and licks his bottom lip when he’s overthinking something. Shane is always overthinking something. “And…I like,” Shane says, then takes a bite of his omelet, chews, takes a deep breath, “I like being able to look at you as much as I want.” Ilya’s eyebrows shoot up, teasing. “You like looking at me, Hollander?” Shane picks up his mug and smiles into his coffee. “Sometimes.” “Tell me. In detail.” He knows Shane could make a joke in this moment, will probably say something like Fuck you or You’re an asshole. Or he’ll talk about which one of them is currently ranked as the hottest hockey player in the MLH. (It’s Shane. It should always be Shane.) Instead, Shane goes for honesty. “I like,” Shane gestures over Ilya with an outstretched hand, “everything, obviously. Your body is fucking incredible. But you know that already.” “Oh, do I?” Shane ignores that. “But some of my favorite parts,” he reaches over and gently pushes the collar of Ilya’s t-shirt to the side, caresses his collarbone with his thumb, touches his gold chain, “like right here. I really, really like this part. I also like,” he traces a single finger down the length of Ilya’s thigh, “here. This is high on my list of favorite spots. And here,” he says, tracing Ilya’s jaw. “I like this too. And here,” he grabs a handful of Ilya’s curls, “here is really good.” Ilya physically tenses, forcing himself to stay in the moment even though he has a sudden urge to throw Shane over his shoulder and carry him to bed. What did he ever do to deserve such unmasked adoration? Such sweetness? How did he end up in this place, with this man, lovingly touching him in a way he’s never been touched before? Shane gently thumbs underneath Ilya’s eye. “And your eyes are so, so beautiful. The shape of your mouth, fuck, it kills me. In fact,” he pulls his hand away and reaches for his phone in his pocket. “I have a favorite photo of your mouth.” He watches as Shane clicks around on his phone to open a folder filled with photos of Ilya. There are team photos from the past nine years, publicity photos, magazine shoots, photos Shane must have taken when Ilya wasn’t looking. He watches as Shane scrolls, looking for the one he wants. “This one,” he says, holding out his phone, “is my favorite. You look…you just look so sexy here. I mean, you always look good. But especially here. It reminds me of how you look when we’re together.” Shane’s voice slightly cracks as he confesses his secret. “How you look at me.” The photo is from a Sports Illustrated shoot a few years ago. Ilya’s shirtless, lying on his side on the floor. He’s looking up at the camera with his thumb pulling at his bottom lip, an “I will fuck you into oblivion” expression on his face. It’s one of his more talked about photos, spawned thousands of excitable posts on social media, but he never imagined Shane had it saved in his phone. He looks at Shane and sees his expression is wide open, like he knows Ilya will make fun of him for this but doesn’t care.
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spin silence into gold by Marleycat
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-07
“Boston captain Ilya Rozanov is coming off an impressive game versus Pittsburgh with two goals and two assists. Will he be able to maintain his momentum as the season goes on, keeping dynamic Metros’ Captain Shane Hollander under him?” If they only knew how wrong that was. ---- Ilya's plan to get Shane to stay over had been going so well until a scared Shane ran away. Ilya tries to deal with the fallout when he is left alone, realizing how deep he is falling for Shane. When he makes it to Shane's cottage, nothing will keep him from shedding a tear or two over shopping lists, shared clothing, dental hygiene, and having someone be the one to take care of him again, finally.
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Take Back The Night by Indigo2831
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-07
Totally worth it, Shane thought as he gazed at a gleeful Ilya Rosanov, all toothy grin and gleaming blue eyes as he reeled in his first ever caught fish. Even though the searing sunlight intensified the mild headache he’d woken up with into something monstrous. -OR- Shane tries to hide a headache in order to take Ilya fishing, and it goes about as well as you'd imagine. Missing scenes for 1.06, The Cottage.
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