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The Googly Eyes See All by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types, Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-04-15
It's All Star weekend, and Gerty, Philly's mascot, just wants a Snickers.
or
Ilya fights a mascot.- Part 4 of Zebra Huddle
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,929
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #83198021
-
Yuna has everybody’s security cameras on a family plan. She never really checks them; they’re just there for insurance. Until she sees Ilya Rozanov at Shane’s front door. “Thanks so much, Mrs Hollander .” Yuna smiled at Becky as she grabbed her laptop. “No, it’s fine.” “I’ve never had any issues parking on the street until now ,” Becky said. “Lucky we have the cameras,” Y una smiled, navigating to the website and clicking the login button. "Thanks so much for doing this,” Becky said. “I’m definitely gonna install cameras too after this.” Yuna grimaced as she looked outside, seeing the entirety of Becky’s car scratched up. David had been right to put cameras up a few years ago for insurance purposes, even if they’d never had to use them before. “It’s no trouble. Hopefully they caught something, I’m not sure if you’re out of range.” She clicked the autofill for the password log in and waited as it loaded, frowning when the live footage wasn’ t of her entryway . Shane's condo, Yuna realised. She was staring at his door , the camera pointed down to the staircase to the security door. She moved to the log out button, for getting that she’d set up the cameras for him in the first place and kept the login saved because he would definitely forget about it when someone walked up to Shane’ s front door. Yuna froze, going cold when she recognised the face. Ilya Rozanov. How does he know where Shane lives? Yuna grabbed her phone, ready to call Shane to warn him that Rozanov was at his house, either to break in or prank him, when the door opened. She caught the big smile on Rozanov’ s face as Shane grabbed his arm and pulled him into the condo. Yuna blinked. Are they friends? That didn’ t make any sense. Shane would have told her . “Honey, can you leave your email address and I’ll send over whatever we caught?” Y una said blankly, handing Becky a pen and a notepad from her purse. Becky wrote down her email, thanking Yuna profusely and showing herself out. Rude, Yuna admonished herself. You don’ t make guests show themselves out. She went back through the footage, watching again as Rozanov knocked on the door and smiled brightly when it opened. She'd never seen Rozanov smile like that. Y una had watched all his games and interviews over the years; she’d seen him smirk and smile cockily and flirt. But she’d never seen every single tooth he owned, or seen his eyes light up like that. So Shane and Rozanov were...friends. Secret friends, apparently . Yuna supposed it made sense, in a way. If she really tried to wrap her mind around it. Their rivalry was still the biggest ticket seller in the MLH. If there was no rivalry, people may not be as interested in the games. She wasn’ t proud, but she sat there for hours, waiting for more movement. Y una wasn’ t sure what she was looking for, but she just wanted to see Rozanov leave. She made herself dinner and ate in front of her laptop, waiting for something, anything, to happen. Yuna got her wish nearly seven hours after Rozanov had arrived. It was nearly two in the morning when the door opened again. Yuna startled at the noise, sitting forward and watching intently. Rozanov was laughing as he stepped out onto the landing, holding his shoes. He looked like he'd just run a marathon; he was red and sweaty , his hair was sticking up every which way . They must have used Shane’s home gym. Training together made sense, weirdly enough. Y una was sure there was no one better to push Shane than the only person who was almost on his level. Shane followed as Rozanov leaned against the door jamb and put his shoes on. They looked so...friendly. It was shocking, seeing them smile together. Yuna had never seen Shane so relaxed; there was no tension in his shoulders. He looked loose, like he’d just had a two hour full body massage. She'd certainly never seen the smile Rozanov had now; in interviews, in videos of him at clubs, his smile was much different. Tighter. “Made me miss curfew,” Rozanov was saying. “Sorry,” Shane said, not sounding sorry at all. “No you’re not,” Rozanov scof fed. “Now I'm gonna have to sneak into the fucking hotel.” Yuna watched, fascinated, as they smiled at each other . Her breath caught as Rozanov stepped into Shane’s space, grabbing his hips and walking him back into the wall. Shane made a soft noise as Rozanov pressed himself against Shane, and – They were kissing. It was intense. Yuna knew she shouldn’ t be watching, but she couldn’ t tear her eyes away from the way they grabbed each other, trying to pull each other closer, hands desperately touching each other everywhere. It went on for too long. It was too familiar, too needy, too romantic. They were too familiar . Shane's hands were tucked into Rozanov’s pants, and Rozanov’s hands were rucking up Shane’s shirt, caressing his stomach, his hips, reaching up to grope his chest.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,484
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #82224851
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Zebra Huddle: Mel's Version by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-03-19
Stairwells at midnight, bar service and All Star games
or
Referees might love their group chats, but somehow it was Mel who became the keeper of Shane and Ilya's secrets.
(kind of sequel to Zebra Huddle)
- Part 3 of Zebra Huddle
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,943
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #81499716
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Zebra Huddle: 2010-2017 by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-03-18
Prequel to Zebra Huddle
The MLH refs have a group chat to gossip, talk hockey... and sometimes Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov come up, even when they don't even realize it.
- Part 2 of Zebra Huddle
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,353
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #81434651
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Ilya’s posture shifted, almost imperceptibly.
“No,” he said quickly. “Do not go in there.”
But Luca was already moving, the memory pulling him forward before the warning fully registered.
Behind him, he heard Ilya’s sharper voice. “Luca. Wait. Not in there.”
The handle turned in his hand.
The door opened.
Shane Hollander was sitting on the edge of the bed.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,897
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #79748131
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I don't wanna wait, I wanna live by WeirdV
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-18
Wiebe is looking at Rozanov. The man is currently sitting on the couch in his office hugging the centaur plushie his daughters gave him when he started coaching here. He’s got a distant expression on his face. Troy says he took something for a cold he was fighting, and then saw him take a painkiller a bit later and now he’s - well - high. And now, for the first time since he started working here, he’s looking up one of his player’s emergency contacts. Except Rozanov’s emergency contact comes with a note; text, unless absolute emergency. Discretion please.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,387
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77901596
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As she watched Rozanov skate half circles around Shane's unconscious body in the unnatural quiet of the Boston arena, Jackie Pike's heart raced. Her whole body shook as her brain struggled to make sense of what was happening. A few moments later, she recognized the Russian's expression. She'd seen it on the faces of other WAGs when their men went down hard. It was the physical manifestation of her recurring nightmare - Hayden motionless and bleeding after a hit, thinking she was about to lose the love of her life. Nothing else existed but that body lying on the ice. This was exactly how Rozanov looked at him now, and the only possible explanation was love. Or, A 5 + 1 story about five people who observe the relationship between Shane and Ilya unfold in real time and come to their own conclusions about what's going on. Plus, a bonus chapter featuring the family dinner that Shane’s parents invite themselves to right after meeting Ilya for the first time.
- Part 1 of Hollanov From the Outside In
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 11,356
- Chapters:
- 6/6
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76403951
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Ilya is fairly certain that you don’t accidentally walk in on your roommate half naked this often. Shane, for his part, seems completely uninterested in correcting that assumption. The semester has only just started and Rozanov has lost count of how many times hes walked in on Hollander getting dressed in their dorm room. Its becoming a bit of a problem. "Stop making this habit, Hollander," he groans and raises his hand to his eyes. But he allows himself a small gap between his fingers to get a look without his roommate noticing. Across the room, Hollander stands in a white towel and is frantically pushing clothes around on his bed to presumably find something to wear. He shifts and leans awkwardly, his towel opening to reveal a long stretch of muscled leg and the curve of Hollanders ass. "I swear, Im not," he says defensively. "You just have terrible timing." "Change in washroom. Like others," Rozanov mumbles. And he peeks again despite himself but immediately regrets it and snaps his fingers closed when he catches a quick glimpse of the dark hair between Hollander's thighs and the length of his soft cock. Feeling like being an asshole, and also maybe hoping to see more, Rozanov drops his hand and gives Hollander a once over. Hes blushing now and piling a shirt and pair of trousers into his arms. "You could just knock, like a normal person." "Is my room too, Hollander," he says, temper rising at the notion. "I know that, but still. Ease up, eh?" "Easel up, eh?" Rozanov mocks his accent back and makes his way over to his side of the room. Hollander just huffs and with a final survey of his bed, he finds a white pair of socks and makes a beeline for their shared washroom. "I'm going to get dressed in the washroom, now." “Good job, Hollander,” Rozanov calls after him. “Here is gold star for you.” When the sound of water starts in the bathroom, probably Hollander brushing his teeth or shaving his non existent facial hair, Ilya takes off his own hoodie. His fingers dig into the dark green material and he pulls it over his head and tosses it down onto the floor beside his bed. Next he tugs off his shirt, a simple t-shirt, white and featuring a Canadian band he liked as a kid, Billy Talent. Something he listened to a lot on his walkman, enjoying the way the English rolled around in his mind. He rubs his rough hands down the center of his torso, up and down the planes of skin and then he thinks... Maybe, perhaps, Hollander could do with a taste of his own medicine. Rozanov would be lying if he claimed he hadn’t imagined it before. Hollander flustered and pink, probably caught off guard. Hollander looking at him like that. The sight of him in a towel alone is enough to wind something tight and aching in Rozanov’s gut. If Hollander pushed--if he teased-- Preferably beneath him. The bathroom door opens. Hollander steps back into the room, fully dressed now, hair neatly combed. He stops short when he sees Rozanov shirtless on his bed. “Why are you undressed?” Hollander asks. “You just gave me shit about that. Like, two minutes ago.” He smells like mint and coconut and Rozanov hates that he knows that. Rozanov pulls his hand from his abdomen which has by now trailed far lower than he intended, "Is nothing. Leave me alone, Hollander." Brown eyes fall to where Ilyas hips sit in his jeans and he catches onto Hollanders eyes to let him know hes been caught. "Okay," is all he says, and settles into his bed. The next evening, Rozanov waits in their room. He knows that Hollander is supposed to be back from an extra hockey practise shortly. And he also knows that he'll be filled with adrenaline, his hair and skin damp with sweat. Thinking about it has him half hard in his trousers already. Eagerly, he shimmies out of them until theyre pooled around his ankles and he unbuttons his shirt with trembling fingers. The shirt finds its way to the floor. In only his white boxers and socks, he sits up on the edge of his bed. From his nightstand, he takes out a magazine he keeps burried under a pile of nonsense school work.
- Part 7 of heated rivalry: explicit collection
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,589
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76965581