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Four months into dating Rose Landry, Shane finally admits the truth: he’s gay. Desperate to tell Ilya, he goes to the club hoping to make things right. But the night doesn’t go the way he expects. Or— A twist on the nightclub scene.
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- English
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- 3,985
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- 1
- AO3:
- #77208451
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“I told you it was supposed to be a surprise asshole,” Shane whispers and it was only then that Ilya finally noticed the razor in his hand and the notch of hair missing from Shane’s perfect pussy. Ilya’s throat goes dry and his hand reaches out to thumb at the perfectly smooth area. Ilya helps Shane shave.
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- English
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- 3,374
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- 1
- AO3:
- #77189856
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i want you flowing through my veins by geminicat
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-06
“Ilya —” Shane tries, voice trailing off. He swallows. “Spitinmymouth,” he finally mumbles under his breath. Ilya raises an eyebrow, clearly not hearing. “Hollander,” Ilya starts. His voice makes Shane twitch. “I already learned English, I cannot also learn secret Shane sex language.”
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- AO3:
- #77177696
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Shane likes it when Ilya uses his mouth.
Or
Shane gets rimmed for the first time and doesn’t know how to handle it.
- Part 1 of Oral Fixation
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- English
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- 3,395
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- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77159201
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"Quiet, I'm trying to say something." Shane waits. Ilya says nothing, but taps the side of Shane's head, as if prompting. "Okay. Well. I think… I think I kind of liked it?" Ilya continues to not say anything for a long moment, and then he grabs Shane's face and peers down at him. "Did you get new concussion while I was not looking?" he asks, brow furrowed. The genuine concern in his eyes makes Shane bristle. "Did you not see glass and run into the window like dumb bird?" "Fuck off," Shane sighs, rolling his eyes. "I'm being serious." "So am I!" Ilya insists with real worry. "Either your old concussion is not gone and it is making you say things, or you got new concussion 'cause you liked it so much! And both is very bad!" Or; Shane discovers that he sometimes needs to get literally knocked out of his own head for some much needed peace and quiet. Ilya has never pulled his punches, and he doesn't intend to start now.
- Part 1 of KNOCKOUT!
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- English
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- 5,692
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- AO3:
- #77116761
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one cigarette in the non-smoker’s tray by thegrandoptimist
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV)
2026-01-05
With their mouths slotted firmly together, lips parted just right, Ilya exhales heavily into Shane's mouth. The smoke flows between them again, filling up Shane's lungs. The only way Shane can describe the experience is warm. Ilya's mouth is warm against his, his hand is warm where it rests on his chin, and the smoke he breathes in is warm as it fills his lungs. Ilya pulls away just enough to let him exhale out all the smoke, but Shane quickly slams their mouths back together, tongue pushing past his parted lips. [or: Ilya shows Shane how enjoyable getting high can be.]
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- English
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- 1
- AO3:
- #77129246
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“Words, Hollander. Tell me that you are helpful.” Shane clears his throat. “I-I’m helpful. When you need to come.” “молодец. Good boy,” Ilya breathes, starting to really move his hand now. He can physically see the moment the fog takes over Shane’s brain. The one that always comes over him when they’re hooking up or fucking. He watches Shane’s eyes go glassy and his mouth hang open, and his lips get wet and he knows he has him. Knows that Shane will do whatever he asks now. He loves when he’s like this. Fuck. “You are, aren’t you?” he asks. “My good boy?”
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- AO3:
- #77153241
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Shane discovers that hockey fans are writing RPF about the two of them. Ilya helps talk (and fuck) him through it.
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- AO3:
- #77124646
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When Ilya says “Shane” instead of Hollander, something shifts in him. Panic hits fast and hard, and Shane’s first instinct is to run before the moment can turn into something real. Ilya doesn’t let him. “Don’t leave,” Ilya says. “Talk to me.” Panic and the emotional crash comes to him. Shane feels exposed, needy, and embarrassed by how much he wants to stay, but Ilya keeps him exactly where he is, grounding him. “You’re not going anywhere, da?” Held in place and forced to face what he’s feeling, Shane has the chance to finally ask for what he wants.
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- English
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- AO3:
- #75884466
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lovers in the bathroom (and a line outside the door) by Rebelskyguy (rebelskyguy)
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-04
Shane looks up from where he’d been dissociating, staring at the design of the wood in the bar top. He’s face to face with the bartender, a shockingly tall, curly haired blond man. He’s wearing a sleek black button-up buttoned halfway, exposing his chest and a chain that Shane could just imagine dangling in his face. He raises his eyebrows, as if waiting for him to respond– Shane has to do a double take to make sure that he’s even talking to him at all. “Me?” Shane points to himself. The blond turns to look at the rest of the bar. “Is no one else here but you. So…” Or Shane meets a handsome bartender after being stood up on a date. Bathroom shenanigans ensue.
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- English
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- AO3:
- #77042781
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“Think you can be good for me, Hollander?” Hollander swallowed. There was that vaguely panicked look in his eyes, like every other time Ilya had introduced something new to his understanding of sex. “What does, uh. What does that mean, exactly?”
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- AO3:
- #77098821
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Sometimes they’re curled up on the bed together afterwards and Shane runs his hands up and down Ilya’s body, rhythmic and smooth, touching just to touch. Ilya is stunning in the literal sense of the word: Shane is paralyzed by him, struck dumb. Desire may never be a problem here, but understanding is: Ilya feels distant and incomprehensible to Shane. — A cross-section of Shane Hollander’s sex life.
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- English
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- 14,058
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- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77101141
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Ilya and Shane play together in the All Stars Game - then they have sex. AKA I understand why Jacob didn't want sex in Episode 5 but I did, so it's here. Yay! Takes place after the game but before all of the confessions. Don't worry too much about the logistics. Ilya has imagined this, of course. It’s something he won’t ever admit to Shane, but he’s thought of it over and over again. The two of them, playing together. What it would be like, how it might work. He knows what they’re like when they fuck - a wordless knowledge of each other that requires very little in the way of conversation, though neither of them are ever inclined to be quiet. Hockey is different to fucking, but not by much. Ilya knows how Shane plays, down to the skates he wears and how tight he keeps his helmet. But there’s no knowing until they’re on the ice together - and from the moment the puck drops it’s euphoric, all of it. The rest of the team might as well not be there for all that Ilya gives a shit. His attention is on Shane, on getting the puck to his stick, on taking it back when Shane needs it, on getting them to the goal again and again and again. The score is ridiculous, even for a game that is more fun than it is anything else. Ilya spreads his affection across the team, aware of how it would look if he kept coming back to Shane, but he knows how the headlines will look, what all the hockey podcasts will be talking about. The two of them, Hollander and Rozanov and the electricity between them on the ice. No team could ever afford to have them both, and Ilya knows it would be a bad idea, but it’s worth fantasising about, isn’t it? It’s in that post game haze that Ilya is more rash than he has any right to be and books a hotel. One a little further out, but with a big bed and good room service. He texts the name and the room number to Shane without any other details, and watches his eyebrows raise across the massive dinner table where their team has gathered for a post-game celebration. He aches with anticipation, the thrill of the game still sitting under his skin, and he’s one of the first to leave, much to the apparent surprise of the players who don’t know him, and the knowing grins of those who do. “Fuck, Rozy, you got a girl lined up already?” “No fucking way man, we’ve been here less than two days!” “Nah, that motherfucker has one in every city I swear -” Ilya doesn’t answer any of it, just grins, shows the table his favourite finger, and makes his way out. He doesn’t look at Shane, doesn’t try to see if he’s following. He will, of course he will. He always does. So Ilya gets a taxi and checks in to the hotel, makes his way up to the room. It’s a nice room, good view - Ilya doesn’t give a shit about any of that. He pulls off his jacket, slinging it onto the chair that reminds Ilya of another night and another fuck in a much fancier hotel room, and he waits. It’s less than half an hour before the knock comes, and Ilya pulls the door open, meaning to pull Shane in after him. But Shane, it seems, is just as eager. The door’s barely closed before they’re on each other, kissing with a level of desperation that they haven’t in a long time. Ilya manages to get his hand up to protect Shane’s head as they hit the wall, and that gives him the perfect leverage to twist his fingers into the dark strands, pull Shane’s face back a little. He already looks fucked out, his lips parted and his face flushed, those fucking freckles looking perfect on his cheeks. “Fuck, Shane, look at you,” there’s still a thrill that comes with using Shane’s first name, and if the way Shane shudders is any indication, he feels it too. “You felt on the ice, yes? Never played with someone that fucking good before, hm?” “Shut the fuck up,” Shane pushes forwards to kiss Ilya again, and then they’re fumbling to get at each other’s belts, kicking out of their clothes in a frenzied stumble towards the bed. Shane falls onto his back and Ilya crawls over him, feeling like a predator. He wants to devour Shane, wants to taste him and crawl inside his bones, wants to know what it feels like in there. For now, he pulls one of Shane’s legs up until it’s practically on Ilya’s shoulder and fists his cock, rough and demanding. Shane lets out a strangled noise, trying to fuck into Ilya’s fist and arch away all at once, and Ilya grins, animalistic. “Be good boy, Hollander, and maybe I fuck you,” they both know that’s where this is going, but that’s not the point. Shane forces his eyes open and Ilya is watching him, still working at his cock. He doesn’t keep it up long, not after Shane says, “Please, please want to come with you -” in this breathy voice that Ilya can’t say no to. He fumbles away for a moment, coming back with the lube that was in his pocket (“You had that with you during dinner?”) and starts in on prepping Shane. He’s always so vocal, like this, whimpering at the push and pull of Ilya’s fingers - one, then two, then a third because he’s feeling generous about it. By the time Ilya’s got a condom on and he’s rolling his hips to push in to Shane, he feels halfway out of his mind. It’s so much, so overwhelming, that for a long moment he just stays there, flush against Shane, holding him up off the bed. Then Shane looks at him, eyes wet and wanting, and Ilya loses all sense of self. The headboard makes contact with the wall and Ilya couldn’t give less of a fuck, driving into Shane like a man possessed, slapping Shane’s hand away from his own dick. No, he wants Shane to come just like this, on his cock, panting and needy with it. He wants to drink up those noises, the ah-ah-ah that comes rhythmically with Ilya’s thrusts. And he can feel it, in the bottom of his stomach, the desperate curl of it. Ilya wishes they were fucking raw, wishes he could feel all of Shane. For now, he settles with leaning over the bed. The pressure forces Shane to bend, and suddenly Ilya is impossibly deep. Shane all but screams Ilya’s name, head thrown back, and his cock jerks, coating his stomach, almost up to his chest. Ilya is mesmerised by the sight of it, and doesn’t last more than two thrusts before he’s shaking, coming as deep as he can, imagining for a moment that when he pulls out he’ll see the evidence of it leaking out of Shane’s hole. He doesn’t, of course. He pulls back, almost trembling, and there’s nothing but the slick of lube. Ilya ties off the condom, tosses it towards the trash. Means to go and get a washcloth, but – but it’s all there, painted over Shane’s body, and Ilya feels greedy. He leans over Shane’s body, ignoring his quiet, fucked out little, “Ilya -” as he drags his tongue up Shane’s stomach, tasting him there.
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- English
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- 1,542
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- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77036521
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“Wow,” Ilya snickers. “Not even Golden Boy Hollander is safe from the pussy curse, huh?” “Do not call it that.” Ilya crosses his arms and looks at Shane like he’s being stupid. It’s a frustratingly familiar look. “It is a curse that gives a pussy. Pussy curse. It’s not that bad of curse, actually.” Or; Someone commissions a witch to curse Shane with a vagina. It’s a flagrant violation of MLH rules, but Ilya’s always been good at making lemonade out of lemons.
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- English
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- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77073321
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Butter soft in the moonlight by eatmyass
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV)
2026-01-03
Ilya smirks. “What am I doing?” His thumb drags over Shane’s mouth more roughly this time, making his lips part in an unflattering way. There’s something about the way Ilya’s holding him, butter-soft leather digging into his skin. Something about the way Ilya looks in the dim lighting, dark clothes blending into the shadows. Maybe it’s Ilya, tall and imposing, standing in the dark with his gloved hands gripping Shane hard enough to hurt. “Hurting me,” Shane whispers. ——— Shane buys Ilya a pair of leather driving gloves, and then gets so worked up seeing him wear them that he spontaneously invents consensual noncon.
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- AO3:
- #77007776
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What do you get the man who self-proclaimedly has everything he could ever want and need? This is the dilemma Shane faces yet again, wondering what on earth he could possibly get Ilya for his birthday. The answer comes in the form of raiding Ilya’s closet and impulsive 3 AM purchases. or the hollanov birthday sex au no one asked for
- Part 2 of vignettes in time
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- English
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- AO3:
- #76853676
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It was almost dawn by the time Shane and Ilya got home from the Centaurs' post-win party.
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- AO3:
- #76971636
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There is no plot. There is no foreplay. This is smut. He never broke eye contact with Shane–not for a second. Their breathing picked up, growing heavier as that familiar pull of desire and want overtook them. They stared at each other, fully aware of just how far gone they both were, how badly they wanted each other, how obsessed they’d become with each other.
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- AO3:
- #76972896
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“So,” Ilya says at last. “Why do you hire a professional Dominant?” Shane is grateful for Ilya’s timing. If he’d been drinking just then, he probably would have choked and spat tea all over the pavement. “I don’t know. I liked the idea, I guess.” He swallows and risks a quick sideways look at Ilya. “Why do people usually hire you?”
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- AO3:
- #76980626
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shane goes into heat in the middle of a game
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- AO3:
- #76979301