81 – 100 of 141 Works in Episode: s01e05 I'll Believe in Anything (Heated Rivalry)
- Episode: s01e05 I'll Believe in Anything (Heated Rivalry) ×
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The Long Change (Between Games) by colorsflashing
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV)
2026-01-12
Ilya is traded without warning. Shane is left spiraling. Between games, everything falls apart. Or: The one where Ilya Rozanov finds out he’s been traded to the Los Angeles Rush moments before taking the ice against the Montreal Metros.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 41,858
- Chapters:
- 30/30
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76454861
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Shane starts learning Russian in secret after their rookie season, and doesn’t tell anyone. It means he can understand Ilya’s Russian when they speak on the phone while Ilya is in Moscow for his father’s funeral.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,331
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77465046
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After nearly fifteen hours, two tumblers of vodka, and seven cigarettes, Ilya still needs an extra ten minutes—jaw set, his fingers gripping a bathroom sink—before he can walk into the room where Shane's been admitted to Montreal General. ----- Or, Ilya watches Shane take a hit; the ramifications take some time to translate
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- English
- Words:
- 2,442
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77508916
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In the hospital after his injury, Shane accidentally says too much. —— Or, Shane is high as a kite and tells his nurse that he’s in love with Ilya. She keeps their secret.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,431
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77479331
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it's worse to be nothing by destielpasta
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-11
How are you feeling today? Ilya stares at Shane’s text, biting his lip. You are asking too many questions again, Hollander, he types. His thumb hovers over the send button. Instead he deletes it, switching briefly to the Cryllic keyboard to type out: I feel like I was hit by a speed train, but instead of killing me it punched a hole through my heart, making more room for you. Fuck, that’s insane. OR Ilya eats pelmeni and texts Shane a lot while still in Russia. Takes place the day after the tunnel phone call in episode 5.
- Part 3 of Liminal
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,037
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77518531
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Set in Russia during episode 5, a grieving Ilya calls Shane to talk and asks him to distract him from his thoughts. Aka a sweet little Hollanov phone call
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,560
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77515116
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Then, with a smile in Shane’s voice, “That’s French, Ilya.” Ilya? Had Hayden heard that right? Shane definitely had to be making a joke. Or- or something. Right? And maybe Hayden would have believed that if Shane hadn’t known where Rozanov was a day before anyone else did. Russian… Lily… Ilya… ‘Oh my God’ was the only thought that crossed Hayden’s mind. His fingers gripped at the door, Shane’s head dipped close to the phone visible through the crack. It wasn’t possible. But, he just had a feeling. Something in Hayden’s brain was saying ‘no yeah, that’s Rozanov on the phone.’ Or Hayden Pike figures out Shane and Ilya's secret after overhearing a very consequential phone call. (This fic is mostly show compliant, with a couple details from the book thrown in. Some of it I changed completely for my own purposes.)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,086
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77347296
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Winning puts things into perspective. So does losing.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,894
- Chapters:
- 3/3
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76240801
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Shane finds himself thinking, wishing, hoping, for more than shadows with Ilya after leaving his hotel room during the All Stars. He makes the decision to come out on Instagram, belatedly coming out to his parents in a text, and then goes down to hit the punching bag in the hotel gym until his brain fizzles into a decision about Ilya. He's alone for long enough, but Ilya stays afterwards.
- Part 12 of Heated Rivalry
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,305
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77308211
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my ilya, my shane by roztwofour (swiftpixie)
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-07
Yuna thought she understood her son. She thought she understood Ilya Rozanov, too. She was wrong about both. As she watches the boy who loves her son navigate fear, love, and impossible choices, she realizes that acceptance isn’t loud, it’s in the way people stay. Or, Yuna reevaluates everything she thought she knew about Ilya, Shane, and love itself. As fear gives way to honesty, Ilya and Shane finally speak the words they’ve been carrying for years.
- Part 2 of journey to the cottage
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,179
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77265571
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Shane took a long sip of his ginger ale. “Lily isn’t… I mean… she’s not-” “She’s not a she, is she?” Shane shook his head. “No. She’s a he.” Or: Shane decides to come out to Hayden after breaking up with Rose, and Hayden is determined to find out who Lily is.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 9,176
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76055586
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taking what's not yours. by bearprofessor
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-07
Montreal, December 2016. --- Ilya zoomed into Hollander's chest, at the shirt under his blazer, a shirt that was slightly too big on him. Not like the overly fitted things he would normally wear. Then, on the collar, Ilya noticed the subtle logo design of a company he bought from frequently. That was his fucking shirt - he knew it. As annoyed as he was at being sent more reminders about Hollander and Rose, it gave him a little bit of pleasure to know Hollander was walking around in something that he definitely knew was Ilya's - he is the most meticulous man Ilya knows, after all - and knew he thought he could get away with it without anyone knowing who it actually belonged to. Not to him. To him, Hollander is and always has been a terrible liar. aka: Shane wears one of Ilya's shirts out when he's with Rose after their breakup. Ilya breaks the silence to share his thoughts with Shane about that. (ft. a healthy dose of yearning.)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,932
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77282766
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The next direct flight from Montreal to Moscow leaves around five a.m. He looks up at the clock in the top corner of his phone screen, thinking. It's close eleven now. Ilya must still be on Boston time if he's up that early. He hits "add to cart" before he can stop himself and the next thing he knows, he's got a flight confirmation code in his email. OR : Shane goes to Russia for Ilya's father's funeral. And the Russian confession is said to his face instead of over the phone.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 9,880
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77217991
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You Have Reached Lily by ItsMayBiTheWay
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-06
Hayden finds Lily’s contact and touches the little call button. After a short time, the call connects. “Shane,” a breathless sound reaches his ear, a broken heavy Russian accent cut off by a choked up sob. “You scared me.” Hayden hangs up. OR Hayden calls Lily after Shane’s injury
- Part 1 of Hayden Pike Hockey-matic Universe
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,729
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 3 versions
- AO3:
- #77222266
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"What the fuck do you want?" Ilya snaps on the phone.
"Father's dead," Alexei says and Ilya feels it in his chest like a physical blow.--
Ilya hears his father is dead, right there in the locker room, surrounded by his team.- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,496
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77220986
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mom, he's my ilya by roztwofour (swiftpixie)
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-05
When Shane Hollander is injured during a game, his mother rushes across borders fueled by fear, love, and instinct. What she doesn’t expect is to uncover the truth about her son’s heart, and the man who already holds it. Or, Shane Hollander gets injured, drugged, and a little too honest.
- Part 1 of journey to the cottage
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,949
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77144181
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like a lullaby by heartsopenminds
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-05
hayden had no clue why ilya fucking rozanov of all people was in shane's room when he arrived at the hospital, but thanks to his best friend's lack of filter on a hefty dose of painkillers, it doesn't take him long to find out. The hospital room door closed softly behind him as Hayden walked towards the bed. He was frowning, still trying to figure out why he'd had to wait while Ilya fucking Rozanov of all people visited Shane before him. Shane's eyes were half-lidded, glazed with a cocktail of painkillers, a dreamy smile plastered across his face. "So," Hayden started, his voice cautious. "That was... weird. Ilya Rozanov here in your hospital room. For like, ten whole minutes. What the hell was that about?" "Oh hey, Hayden. Heeeeeyyyy-den, " Shane said in a sing-song voice. "He came to check on me. Isn't he the sweetest?" Hayden stared at his best friend. "Sweetest? Shane, buddy, the doctors said you had a concussion, not a personality transplant. That was Rozanov. The guy who plays like he wants to murder us. I don't think he even has a 'sweet' setting." "Oh, pfff," Shane sighed, waving a hand dismissively. The movement was loose and uncoordinated. "That’s just his game face. Like Batman. But underneath? Total marshmallow. He was really worried about me. I wanted to hold his hands to stop them shaking so much, but he was paranoid about the nurses coming in, I could tell." Hayden pulled the visitor’s chair closer and sat down very slowly, as if making any sudden movements might worsen Shane's apparent delirium. "You... wanted to hold hands? With Rozanov? I’m gonna need a minute here." "I thought he might speak to me in Russian," Shane continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial, affectionate whisper. "It's nice when he does that. You know how his voice gets all deep and rumbly? It vibrates right in your chest. It's relaxing, like a cat purring. A really big, angry cat." "I'm not sure anything about that guy counts as relaxing," Hayden said doubtfully. "No, s'nice," Shane insisted, his brow furrowing slightly at Hayden’s lack of understanding. "Soft, like a lullaby. I could listen all day. Like the voice notes he sends. You know, the ones you make fun of because they're so long." Hayden paused. "The voice notes? From Lily, you mean." Shane rolled his eyes, a dramatic motion of annoyance. "Yes, from Lily. He sends the long voice notes when he's stressed. We talked about this." "We talked about Lily," Hayden’s voice was faint. "The girl you've been sexting for years. The one you always see when we're - " Hayden stared blankly at the wall. The pieces were suddenly fitting together in his mind, regardless of how much he didn't like the picture they were forming. "Lily... is Ilya. Your Lily is Ilya Rozanov." Shane let out a huff of laughter. "Well, yeah. You think I have two high-maintenance hockey obsessives who text me at all hours? I do not have the energy for that. I mean, sometimes I don't have the energy for one, with all the late nights and the sneaking around, " Shane continued, oblivious to Hayden's spiralling crisis. "But it's worth it. It’s actually really romantic. Like a spy movie." "A spy movie," Hayden repeated, his voice muffled by his palms. "Yeah." Shane shifted, wincing slightly, but the smile never left his face. "You know the grey hoodie he wears? The one with the bleach stain on the cuff?" "I can't say I've ever noticed." "Well that’s his 'Lily' hoodie," Shane said, his eyes sparkling with a secret he thought they already shared. "For when we have to be all stealthy. I love that hoodie. It smells like his cologne and hotel soap. It makes me think of stairwells, or service elevators, or..." Hayden looked up, horrified. "Service elevators? You’re meeting up with the captain of the Boston Raiders in service elevators?" "Well, and hotel rooms, obviously," Shane retorted. "Sometimes my place. Or his. He made us tuna melts." "Tuna melts," Hayden repeated. This was the detail that broke him, he realised afterwards. Not the sex, not the secrecy, but the fucking sandwiches. "He acts like he’s this big tough guy," Shane says dreamily. " 'I am Ilya Rozanov, I am machine' but he takes such good care of me, Hayds." Shane’s energy began to flag as the conversation drained the last of his reserves. He sank deeper into the pillows, his eyelids fluttering. "He called me, you know," Shane mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. "From Moscow. After the funeral." Hayden softened at the mention of Ilya's loss. "He called you?" "Yeah. He was so sad. About his dad, about a lot of things. He told me he loved me." Hayden froze. "He said it in Russian," Shane said. "But I knew. I could feel it. He thinks he always has be alone, but he doesn't. I’m gonna marry him one day, H. We’re gonna get a house and he’s gonna make me sandwiches and we’re gonna be so boring. You'll come visit, right? You and Jackie and the kids?" "You love him," Hayden murmured. It wasn't a question. "Yeah," Shane sighed, a long, contented exhale, his eyes finally closing. "Don't tell him that though, cos we haven't said it yet. He’s my very favourite person. He likes to think he’s
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,042
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77165906
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the montreal vs boston game by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-05
When Shane collides with Cliff Marlow during the Montreal vs Boston game in April of 2017, Ilya has to get through the evening not knowing how he's doing. He eventually confides in his roommate Cliff, who subsequently invites himself onto Ilya's trip to the hospital the next morning.
“Ask,” Ilya said flatly, trying not to admit to himself that he probably knew what he was about to be asked.
“What is your relationship with Shane Hollander?” Marlow asked.
He didn’t ask ‘are you and Shane Hollander in a relationship?’. If he asked that, Ilya might have laughed and told him everything. As it was, he considered lying. He was pretty sure that at this point, Marlow would believe whatever Ilya told him. It was apparently clear to Marlow that something was different about Shane and Ilya, so if Ilya told him they were friends and that Shane had been reaching out to him about his father, Marlow would believe him. It technically wasn’t untrue.
It also wasn’t covering the part where they’d been fucking since they were nineteen years old.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 9,484
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76944531
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If he could just get everything right then he wouldn’t be having these problems, he told himself. If he could stick to his shitty fucking diet which he hated, and his grueling workout routine, and manage his schedule to fit in more brand deals and advertisements, if he could fit in extra hours of practice, and on and on and on. Of course, he thought with spite, this would all be better if he could fucking sleep. Or, Shane is falling apart and Ilya is there to pick up the pieces. “I- I’m sorry, I think this season has just been more stressful than usual,” he had tried to tell Rose Landry as she gathered her clothes from the side of the bed. “Of course,” she’d said and offered him a small smile. They both knew he was full of shit, but one thing wasn’t a lie: this season had been stressful. Shane could feel his control slipping despite his best attempts. No matter how many times he tried to tell himself that he needed to get his shit together his grip on normalcy was loosening. If he could just get everything right then he wouldn’t be having these problems, he told himself. If he could stick to his shitty fucking diet which he hated, and his grueling workout routine, and manage his schedule to fit in more brand deals and advertisements, if he could fit in extra hours of practice, and on and on and on. Of course, he thought with spite, this would all be better if he could fucking sleep. It started about a month ago with one restless night and had spiraled from there. Usually Shane fell into a deep sleep after a long day of practice and workouts and whatever else he was doing but lately he just lay in bed, heart pounding, thoughts racing, and definitely not sleeping. Or, if and when he did manage to fall into a fitful sleep his dreams consisted of his own worst nightmares: losing the cup, everyone finding out about him and Ilya, the flash of cameras in his face, or once even a dream that featured Ilya somewhere in Russia being hurt because of Shane. Always, the dreams concluded that whatever bad things were happening were because of Shane and Shane had a hard time not believing that himself. He’d wake up in empty hotel rooms, a twisted scream escaping his lips, panting and sweaty and alone. Of course people had noticed, Rose had noticed before they broke up and Hayden kept asking him if he was okay at practice and Shane brushed them all off. He was fine, he had to be. So what if he wobbled on his skates and always felt like he was seeing through a thick layer of fog. The only person he really wanted to see, the only person who he could imagine would treat him normally, would probably never want to speak to him again. Not after he left, not after he’d dated Rose fucking Landry. God, he needed to get some fucking sleep, he thought, burying his head in his hands and blocking out the fluorescent lights. “Hey,” Hayden said cautiously, “you alright buddy?” Shane snapped his eyes open, “I’m fine,” he growled. Hayden took a step back, his hands raised in surrender, and Shane couldn’t even bring himself to feel bad for snapping at his best friend. “Okay, I’m gonna go get some snacks, maybe try to get some rest on the plane?” Hayden offered, disappearing into the chaos of the airport. Yeah, Shane thought sarcastically, because it's that easy. On the flight to Florida he determinedly ignored Hayden’s concerned looks in favor of reading one of his hockey books until his best friend fell asleep and Shane looked at him with envy. By the time they landed he was ready to collapse into a hotel bed and hopefully never wake up but he knew both of those things were impossible. When they dropped their bags off in their rooms Shane caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror hanging next to the bed. He looked like shit, he thought, carding a hand through his dark hair in an attempt at looking presentable. Even in his newly styled clothes there was no hiding the dark purple circles under his eyes, the new lines of stress wrinkling his forehead, or how pale he’d gotten. “You look like shit,” was the first thing Ilya Rozanov said to him, coming over to sit next to Shane at the bar. “Fuck off,” Shane responded, even as his hands shook as he raised his glass of ginger ale to his lips. Rozanov hummed, “and you're sure you can play tomorrow? Or I need to score all the goals for both of us?” He said with a smirk. Shane glared at him but he was pretty sure he wasn’t imagining the undercurrent of concern in the Russian’s voice. “I’m fine,” he muttered. “Okay,” he didn’t sound convinced, “see you tomorrow then.” “Y-yeah, see you,” Shane muttered as he hastily stood up and left. Fuck. That night he lay wide awake, staring up at the ceiling above him. Rozanov was here, and he didn’t seem to completely hate him. That had to count for something, right? So why couldn’t he calm the fuck down, why was his heart still racing with anxiety? He blinked at the sleeping figure of Hayden in the bed next to him, passed out without a care in the world. Why couldn’t he just be normal like that? Instead he watched the clock tick ever closer to sunrise until it was six am and time to get up. “You gotta eat something man,” JJ pointed out. They were sitting in the hotel lobby and Shane was picking at an orange, peeling it slowly.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,991
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77103016
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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.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,542
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77036521