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  1. Haas was too focused on watching Ilya circulate around the room, the captain making his usual rounds with the teammates. Shane could see the awe in his features, how much he admired his husband. But all it did was sour the feeling forming in his gut. Stop. Stop it. Luca is just a kid. Be good. He strictly tried to reel himself in. Be good. IN WHICH Shane drops before practice. Ilya has to do his best to bring his husband back up.

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    AO3:
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  2. Ilya and Shane take a break, not a break up like Shane keeps reminding himself. Just some time away to focus on hockey and find out where they want their relationship to go. Not a breakup. Which would be much easier to convince himself of if every sport news wasn't relaying Ilya's new friendship with captain of Ottawa women's hockey team Alexandra Page.

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  3. Shane’s cheeks burned red and he turned away from him, “sorry that I'm so boring all the time,” “Mmh, not all the time,” Ilya smiled deviously, “sometimes you are very fun,” The shorter raised an eyebrow at him, “yeah? And what are those times?” “When we fuck,”

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  4. Shane had no issue helping Ilya. He knew English was a frustrating language-knew the struggles that came with having to learn a whole other way to communicate.

    And honestly, it gave him a feeling of fulfillment. He loved being helpful, loved being useful.

    So he was more than happy to translate when Ilya needed.

    Shane just never thought the day would come when their roles would be reversed.

    or:
    a hard of hearing! shane hollander fic

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    AO3:
    #76629846
  5. "That's— that's not what I'm insinuating, Ilya…" he started, sighing disappointingly down the line, making it obvious that he was pinching the bridge of his nose to calm down his nerves, "It's just—" "It's just what, lyubimiy?" Ilya interjected, and if Shane didn't know any better, he'd think that Ilya was being condescending, but he did know better, and that it was simply just the Russian in him. God, if Shane didn't know that he had regretted learning russian, he would've right now. "You can tell me if you don't want me to do it, no problem." Or… Ilya gets signed to campaign for Calvin Klein, and Shane hates it. Until he doesn’t.

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    AO3:
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  6. Jealous by

    Heated Rivalry (TV)
    • E
    • ✓

    2025-12-29

    Shane never thought of himself as a jealous person. But Ilya Rozanov made him feel like he was losing his mind. Svetlana Vetrova. That was the name of the girl Ilya Rozanov was pictured with. The beautiful, statuesque, model like, stunning woman with the perfect skin and amazing hair and deep hazel eyes that Rozanov was hanging off of. Shane frowned at the television, watching the entertainment program break down the photos of Rozanov leaving a club in Boston, hand in hand with one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, a cigarette tucked behind his ear, his shirt unbuttoned too much to be decent, the muscles of his forearms so defined Shane had to resist reaching out to touch the screen. “Vetrova’s father is one of the most legendary goalies in Russian history, so it seems like Rozanov is in the company of hockey royalty,” the blonde woman on the television said. “They seem like very good friends,” the man standing next to her said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “They certainly look good together.” They do, Shane thought as the photo changed to one of them climbing into the backseat of a town car, Rozanov’s hand practically on Svetlana’s ass. He had no right to feel anything about this. Rozanov was just some guy he’d had sex with a few times. Shane was a free agent, too. He could go out and sleep with anyone else whenever he wanted, and Rozanov wouldn’t care. Shane had no claim to Rozanov. They’d had sex a few times, but it didn’t mean anything. It was convenient and Rozanov was hot and incredible at fucking him, but it wasn't anything more than that. At least, that was what he had tried to remind himself. This was nothing. He watched the television as it flicked to a photo of Rozanov sucking on a cigarette. Shane had begun to miss the taste of cigarettes. >>> He moaned into the pillow, his eyes screwed shut as Rozanov fucked him, his arm pressing down on his shoulders. Shane reached behind him, desperately trying to grab onto something to try and ground him as his body tensed, grateful when Rozanov grabbed his hand and bore down over him, his hips pinning him to the bed. Shane bit his lip as Rozanov moaned loudly into the back of his neck, his hips moving faster and harder – Shane cried out as he came, squeezing Rozanov’s hand as he fucked him, not slowing down as Rozanov chased his own orgasm. Shane loved being used like this; he loved when he was spent and exhausted and Rozanov kept fucking him, moaning his name, desperate to come too. Rozanov cried out Shane’s name as he came, his hips slowing down to a grind as he slid his hand into Shane’s hair, gripping him tightly as he finally stopped moving, slumping over him. Shane took a deep breath, doing his best to breathe normally again underneath Rozanov’s weight. He grimaced when he realised his cock was trapped between the sheets and his stomach, his come smeared everywhere. Rozanov seemed to realise Shane was trying to move, pulling out slowly and rolling off of him. “Fuck,” Shane mumbled, rolling onto his back and looking down at himself. Rozanov loved when he came untouched, making it his mission to make Shane come that way every single time. Rozanov turned towards him, slapping his hand over his chest. Shane flinched as Rozanov leaned over him and licked the come off of his stomach, laughing as he moved up to kiss him. Shane smiled as Rozanov’s hand rested over his neck, his tongue moving against his as he pressed closer to Shane. Shane pushed him gently off of him, sitting up and blinking. “We need to shower,” he said. Rozanov sighed, watching as Shane stood and crossed to the bathroom, doing his best not to make a face as the ache in his ass. “You are okay?” Rozanov asked. “Yes,” Shane answered honestly. He was always okay; he loved this feeling, like his whole body had been pushed beyond his limits and he could barely hold himself up. He flicked the shower on, flinching at the sight of himself in the mirror. His hair was a sweaty mess, his skin was flushed red, sweat had beaded down his chest, and come was drying in the hair beneath his bellybutton. Shane didn’t look anything like Svetlana, or the many women Rozanov was photographed with. Shane wasn’t tall and thin and beautiful. He was average height, broad shouldered and plain. He hated his flat hair and his ugly freckles and his boring brown eyes. Shane was so busy frowning at himself that he didn’t see Rozanov walk into the bathroom. He startled when Rozanov gripped his waist, kissing his neck snapping him out of his reverie. Shane watched in the mirror as Rozanov reached for his hand and pulled him towards the shower; for a brief moment, he thought about the photo he had seen of Rozanov with Svetlana. >>> “Not bad, Hollander,” Hayden said, clapping him on the back. “Not bad?” Shane asked. “A hat trick is better than not bad.” A hat trick against Boston, no less. Scoring against Rozanov was no easy feat. He shucked off his jersey, listening as JJ led the team in celebrations, loudly singing their team song.

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    AO3:
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  7. Troy Barrett comes to Ottawa wanting stability. He tells himself he wants the team, the routine, the structure, the safety of fitting in without needing too much from anyone. This is his clean start, and he needs to do whatever it takes to keep it.

    What he finds instead is Shane Hollander, amazing perfect Shane Hollander, and the uncomfortable realisation that the thing he’s been trying hardest not to want might be the only thing that actually feels like what he needs.

    As lines blur and tempers rise, Troy learns the hard way that wanting to belong can turn into wanting to keep, and that some things aren’t up for negotiation, especially when there’s a Russian captain who’s already decided what’s not on offer.

    or

    “Hey, Ilya?” Troy asks, already regretting it. “I was actually going to ask you about someone.”

    The moment he says Shane Hollander’s name, the locker room goes quiet, and Troy knows he’s crossed a line he didn’t fully understand.

    Or

    Troy’s POV of the events best called ‘Ilya’s worst nightmare’

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    2 versions
    AO3:
    #76076481
  8. A misunderstanding, old insecurities, and one badly timed coffee leave cracks in Shane and Ilya’s marriage just as the Centaurs take the ice against Montreal. When a sudden injury forces everything into sharp focus, love has to speak louder than pride.

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    AO3:
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  9. Shane was never the jealous type. Until Ilya Rozanov came into his life. 5+1 times fic

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  10. “Watch yourself, Rozanov,” he says in Russian, voice low and dark, and oh, holy shit, Ilya should have known teaching Shane his native language would be the death of him.

    “I would rather watch you.”

    Shane moves off the stool he’s been sitting on with one fluid movement. “Not now.”

    “Later then?”

    Shane rolls his eyes. “Pervert.”

    “Not what you said an hour ago.”

    Ilya feels Shane’s foot bump into his, and their thighs brush just barely. But it’s still enough to make Ilya want to abandon all of this and drag Shane back upstairs. “Behave, Ilya,” he says, slipping back into Russian. “You know they can't know.” He turns. The look he throws him is a little too close not to affect him. “We both want it that way.”

    Oh. Right. That.

    ____

    Or Ilya and Shane attempt to hide their relationship at a charity gala. It goes about as well as one would expect.

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    AO3:
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  11. Ilya decides to make Shane jealous, and Shane won't let him get away with it. Or - the whiny, pathetic top Ilya fic where Shane makes Ilya beg for it.

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    AO3:
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  12. Hollander had made one attempt to give back his clothes a year or so ago but Ilya had brushed him off with an excuse he couldn't remember now. Hollander hadn't asked again. And Ilya liked seeing Hollander in his clothes- or well, he didn't usually see them on Hollander, but knowing that he had them was enough. Ilya didn't have an explanation why he liked it so much. He tended not to think about it too much. - or: 5 times they wear something of each other secretly and one time they take it off

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    AO3:
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  13. In a move that shocks the hockey world, Shane Hollander ends up signing to the Centaurs at the same time as Ilya Rozanov. Not only do they have years of rivalry behind them, but they've also shared a night neither of them can forget. Or, a soulmate AU where their soulmarks grow stronger as their bond grows.

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    AO3:
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  14. Everything I Didn't Say by

    Heated Rivalry (TV)
    • T
    • ✓

    2025-12-14

    And then Shane hammered it home, “This isn’t real.” He was going to leave. He came here so that he could leave. So that he could end whatever the fuck this was between them in person so he could feel good about it. Because Shane wasn’t an asshole – no, that was Ilya’s job. Fuck that. If Shane was going to leave anyway, then Ilya might as well put it all on the table, “It is to me.” --- OR: Shane tries to run away after they say each other's names for the first time. Ilya chases after him and makes them talk it out.

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    AO3:
    #75757646
  15. Thank god for his makeup stylist, honestly. Without her, he’d look like he’d been dragged through six time zones—and he usually had been. He didn’t know why this insecurity was grabbing him now. Ilya had never made him feel like he wasn’t enough. Not once.

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    AO3:
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  16. Shane: why do you keep licking guys during games? what’s wrong with you?

    Lily: aw hollander are you jealous?

    Ilya starts a habit of licking players on other teams during games, and Shane really doesn't appreciate it. But Ilya saves some licking just for him.

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    AO3:
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  17. Test driving cars should be fun. Shane isn't so sure anymore.

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  18. The Hows of Us by

    • E

    “Papa, what’s your job?”

    Ilya opens his mouth. Closes it. He looks at Shane, who is suddenly very interested in his coffee.

    “My job,” Ilya says slowly, “is to take care of you.”

    “That’s not a job,” Wyatt says matter-of-factly. “That’s just being a papa.”

    “Yes,” Ilya agrees. “It is.”

    In September 2030, Ilya Rozanov is newly retired, newly restless, and learning the hard way that staying home with their three-year-old son is more exhausting than any playoff run. Shane Hollander is back on the ice, chasing another season while missing things he can’t get back.

    After more than a decade together, Ilya and Shane must relearn the hows of their relationship—what comes after happily ever after.

    Language:
    en
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    ?/?
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    AO3:
    #76195111
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