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chef's kiss by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types
2026-10-19
Harris: So, you know that cooking video I had Troy and Shane make?
Ilya: Yes?
Harris: It's genuinely one of the most painful things I've ever seen on camera.
Harris: Like I've seen horror movies that made me feel more at ease than this.
Ilya: Were you expecting anything less?
Ilya: They are the biggest disasters we know.
Ilya: **Affectionate**
Harris: I mean, I guess I was just hoping it'd be super cute, you know?
Harris: Two buff gay elite jocks cooking chicken parm? You can't go wrong, right?
Ilya: Except when your two buff gay elite jocks cooking chicken parmesan are Shane 'small talk is a disease' Hollander and Troy 'awkward is a lifestyle' Barrett.
Harris: Yeah, I should have known.
Harris: This is what I get for being an optimist.
Harris: And a greedy gay man who wants to edit videos of hot men cooking good food.
Harris: Want to do a voice over for me so maybe I can salvage this?
Ilya: Of course.
Ilya: Any parameters?
Harris: Oh, you know. Just don't embarrass me too much.
Ilya: Send it to me and I will get it done ❤️
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,979
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #94228516
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A look at the year that Ilya still played for Boston, except they explicitly state their dom/sub relationship, and explore that dynamic (and kink) together.
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When they first started, it was by accident. Ilya followed Shane’s lead; he read his body and responded with his own. Shane liked to be on his knees for Ilya, and Ilya liked to keep him there.
The first time it went wrong. Shane thought it was his fault. It wasn’t.
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Now with 10k-word SMUTTY EPILOGUE
- Part 1 of Bellboy
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 63,639
- Chapters:
- 15/15
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #78253961
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Ilya's Soup for Ilya's Shane by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-03-16
Finally, Shane lifts his eyes from the computer screen. He removes his glasses, a move that Ilya silently mourns, and sets them aside. Shane's eyes are duller than usual, and the tiniest bit bloodshot. His cheeks are flush in a way that is not fun and sexy but reads more fever and germs.
He looks so tired.
“You, and do not take this the wrong way, look like shit.”
“Fuck off, Rozanov!”
—
Or, Shane gets sick when Ilya visits and Ilya takes care of him.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,147
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #80343621
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The room went quiet for exactly three seconds before it erupted. "Holy shit, Rozanov has a date!" "Who is she?" "How long has this been going on?" "Is she hot?" Ilya let them speculate, keeping his expression carefully neutral as he finished changing. This was the game he'd gotten good at over the past year: deflecting without lying, misdirecting without being obvious about it. His teammates were good guys, but they didn't need to know. Couldn't know. Nobody could know that Ilya Rozanov's Valentine's Day plans involved Shane Hollander. Or, Hollanov are still a secret, Shane is making an exception on his diet, and Ilya has something to celebrate.
- Part 2 of Anon Hollanov
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,652
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77853191
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'Shane nodded, listening to his boyfriend. He’d realized before, that whenever the other would talk about Russia, his accent would thicken. It would also be like that when Ilya was excited about something. His accent would be much more present again; endearing, really. He also sometimes mixed Russian words into his sentences, something he only ever seemed to do around Shane, though. “What are bliny?” Shane asked then. “Блины,” the other corrected.' --- Shane and Ilya have a late night talk, where Ilya talks about his grandparents for the very first time. Shane decides to cook something for Ilya as he seemed happy remembering it that night. And Ilya is very obsessed with Davids homemade bread. Or, they cuddle, talk and eat.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,527
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77745281
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"He seems to understand immediately what's going on, because he turns Ilya towards him, even though he's considerably taller and has much more body mass than David. No matter how big a child grows, to their parents they will always remain a child. Even though Ilya isn't his son, this unwritten rule definitely applies here." or: Missing scene between Ilya and David in Episode 6: The Cottage.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,762
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77222076
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Shane and Ilya go grocery shopping so they can make borscht. That's it, that's the fic. “No, no, fresh dill, fresh dill, Hollander. Put that back.” Ilya swats at the offending dried dill - who would dry dill? - in Shane’s hand, which had been coming dangerously close to the basket Ilya is currently carrying. “You want to make borscht you need fresh dill.” “Alright, fresh. Got it.” Shane’s mouth tips up at the corner, and Ilya knows he is not angry. This was his idea, after all – he had asked Ilya what he misses from home, and Ilya had struggled to come up with anything. Eventually, after what felt like hours, he had only been able to give the names of a few dishes. And Shane, ever attentive, and endlessly obsessive, has apparently decided that Ilya cannot go another day without borscht. So here they are. In a supermarket. Together. This, too, had been a debate, as most things in their lives are. They could have arranged for a delivery, but Ilya had been sure some of the ingredients would be wrong, replaced by people who did not know the difference between beets and sweet potatoes. Then Ilya had said that he would go alone, because he knew what to get. This, Shane had argued, defeated the purpose, because then Shane would not know what to get if he wanted to make it again and Ilya wasn’t around to come shopping. The solution then is this - the two of them in a supermarket together, shopping together, and pretending that they are just friends. They’re used to that, at least. Pretending. Not normally so public, like this, but pretending is not difficult for them, now. It’s in the way they angle their bodies, in the way they don’t let their fingers brush as Shane hands Ilya beets for inspection, each one having to be approved before it goes into the basket. Even with the charity slowly finding its legs, there are boundaries that can’t be crossed, even here. It helps that Ilya looks particularly grumpy. He hates Canadian supermarkets, with their bright lights and their music, their overly apologetic customers who apologise at the mere potential of bumping into someone nearby. He has said sorry more times today than he thinks he has ever before in his life maybe. And it makes Shane smile every time, which is the only reason Ilya is not going completely insane. They’re in the dairy aisle, arguing over what constitutes good sour cream - Shane has apparently decided he is now an advocate for the Canadian dairy farmers - when a shy voice says, “Excuse me,” drawing both of their attentions. Before them is a group of three boys, all around ten, Ilya imagines. The one who had apparently spoken is bright red, and Ilya’s expression softens as he spots the phone clutched in the boy’s hands. “You want photo, yes?” The boys nod, eager, and apparently relieved that they hadn’t had to ask aloud. Shane glances at Ilya, and then at the boys, and then back again. Ilya pays it no mind - the charity, again, is their cover, is it not? “Okay, you can have photo. But on one condition.” Shane looks positively alarmed now, and it has Ilya biting back a wider smile as one of the boys asks, nervously, “What?” “You must never cheer for Metros ever again, yes? They are terrible team, with very bad captain.” The boys stare at him for a moment, and then dissolve into giggles, shoving at each other as they step forward to crowd around Ilya and Shane. An adult - presumably a parent - steps forwards to rescue the boy’s phone. Ilya arranges himself on the other side of the boys, opposite to Shane - barely in touching distance. They look like nothing more than two people who happen to know each other through hockey. Ilya says to the group, “Say Centaurs rule!” and grins at the noise Shane makes. It’s all over fairly quickly, the parent thanking them profusely, Ilya reaching out to high five all of the boys, and then they’re on their own again - more or less. Shane grabs a sour cream, shoving it into the basket, and says, “You’re really good with kids.” It catches Ilya by surprise - so much so that he doesn’t even bother beginning the argument again, simply following Shane to the next aisle. “Is easy to be good with kids. Say things that make them laugh and then do what they ask. You are not good with kids?” “I’m alright with kids.” Shane glances back at him, adding loose bits to their basket. They have all they need for the borscht anyway, now. “I don’t know how to talk to them, I guess. Hayden always says I talk to his kids like they’re tiny adults.” “This is because Pike is idiot with four children who does not know how to -” “Ilya.” “Shane.” They check out in relative silence, after that, loading the car. Ilya slides into the passenger side and slides his hand straight into Shane’s, as though deprived of the feeling. He has been, and if the way Shane squeezes his hand back is any indication, he feels the same. It sets something in Ilya at ease, the way it always does when he is reminded that whatever he feels for Shane, whatever big something sits in his chest is reciprocated, and Shane feels it too. They don’t talk about kids again, or the picture. They discuss stats, instead, whose team is looking better, who has more of a shot at the cup this year. They both know it won’t be the Centaurs, but it’s nice to argue anyway, as though they are on teams of equal footing. This carries through their unloading of the car, their putting away of all of the things not required for borscht. And then all the ingredients are laid out, and Ilya is summarily banished to the other side of the island. Shane is learning, he insists. He will learn. Ilya lets him peel one beet, watching with a smile, before he says, “You need gloves.” “What?” Shane looks up with pink fingertips, expression baffled. “What do I need gloves for?” “Beets.” “The beets I’m peeling now?” Shane’s eyebrows pull together in an expression Ilya adores, one that makes him laugh.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,676
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76937821
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"And when Ilya stops crying, trying not to feel ashamed of being vulnerable, because he knows that he is loved in this home, and that not one of the three Hollanders will give him shit for expressing his feelings, he gives the last present he bought to Shane." or Ilya's first proper christmas
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,606
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76539986
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Морковь по-корейски (Korean-style Carrots) by KinoGlowWorm
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV)
2025-12-02
Takes place at some point during The Long Game. Ilya wants to make the one Russian-Korean dish he knows for Shane's parents when they get together to watch one of Shane's playoff games together, but finds that his expectation of doing it perfectly all by himself might not be what he's looking for, and that family may not just be about paying back what you owe. (Recipe included)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,366
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75116106
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“What did they say?” Ilya asks mildly, though Shane is sure Ilya can read on his face that it isn’t good news. “We haven’t been upgraded to the honeymoon suite,” Shane teases as he runs a hand through his hair. He moves to sit on the couch beside Ilya, and scritches right between Anya’s ears, which causes the content pup to rest her head against Ilya’s thigh. “Powerline is down near the restaurant and they’ve lost power. They said they’ll get us rescheduled as soon as possible,” he says with a little shrug. ----- When a thunderstorm changes their plans on their fourth wedding anniversary, Shane and Ilya have to do some quick thinking.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,879
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #67340176
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David let's Ilya in on a secret about the family chicken parmesan recipe. Absolutely no plot to be found. Submitted for the prompt: Secret Family Recipe Ilya grabbed a bag of breadcrumbs off the supermarket shelf and tossed it into the shopping cart. "Nope." Shane said, bringing the cart he was pushing to a standstill. "These aren’t the right kind." Ilya looked down at his phone to double check the shopping list David had texted him that morning. "It just says breadcrumbs. These are breadcrumbs, yes?" "Trust me," Shane said as he returned the bag to the shelf. "When Dad says breadcrumbs, he specifically means panko." "Then why didn't he say that?" "I have no idea, but if you want to make Hollander Chicken Parmesan right, you gotta have panko breadcrumbs." Ilya did want to get the recipe right, so he searched the shelves until he found a cardboard canister labeled 'organic panko' and picked it up to show Shane. "Good?" "Yup," Shane nodded, looking down at their mostly full cart. "Anything else we need?" "Just puree tomato." "Ok, follow me. Dad has some very specific opinions about tomatoes too." "Of course he does," Ilya laughed as he shook his head and followed Shane to the next aisle. *** A few hours later, Shane and Ilya stood on the Hollanders’ front porch, grocery bags in hand. David had offered to teach Ilya the family chicken parmesan recipe as a belated anniversary gift. Obviously, the Hollanders didn’t need to get him an anniversary present, but Ilya liked the idea of being a part of a Hollander family tradition so he’d happily accepted. Ilya rebalanced the bags in his hands and knocked on the front door. “Come in!” Yuna yelled from inside. Ilya opened the door and shouted, “Privet, mama Hollander.” “Privet moi synov'ya. My na kukhne,” Yuna responded, beckoning them to the kitchen. “Your Russian is getting much better.” Ilya smiled as they set the bags down on the kitchen counter. “Thank you, I’ve been practicing. I have a 120 day streak in Duolingo.” “What?!” Shane said. “How is it possible that your Duolingo streak is longer than mine? I’ve been working on my Russian for years now.” “Well, dear, some of us didn’t spend the entire month of July partying and falling off floats at Stanley Cup celebrations.” Ilya snickered.
- Part 2 of Flufftober 2022
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,248
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #42373284