My absolute gospel truth and I'm sorry this is so sappy but--where I'm living, Ilya fully changes his name to Hollander when they get married, like just fully legally changes it. And despite the fact that he continues to use Rozanov professionally ("Just like J. Lo," Ilya says.) everyone who knows them personally obviously knows what Ilya's legal name is and also assume it's a way to kind of stick it to his shitheel father. To this end, and kind of as a joke at first, people start referring to their two-person unit as The Hollanders ("Okay, the Hollanders are in room 508" etc.) but it becomes steadily less and less a joke when neither Shane or Ilya really seems to think of it as one. Ilya especially seems to genuinely love it. He'll say shit like "Oh yes the Hollanders will be there" when asked if they're coming to a barbecue like they live in a postcard. He LOVES to give his name as Ilya Hollander and he LOVES to book reservations under 'Misters Hollander' and he LOVES to say the words 'Shane and Ilya Hollander' out loud with his mouth. I also think that for their last game together in the league Ilya and Shane wear jerseys that say S. Hollander 24 and I. Hollander 81 and it's like. An end of an era type thing. And they frame the jerseys.
Tonight I'm thinking about Shane getting anxious and overwhelmed in a social situation – not enough that it's noticable to most people, but Ilya can see that he's Freaking Out – and Ilya just slowly running his hand up the back of Shane's neck until his fingers are tangled into his hair, and tugging just hard enough that it hurts a bit, like holding a kitten by the scruff of its neck. The message is clear: even if you don't feel like you are, I'm in control and I've got you. Shane instantly relaxes.
Yuna realizes that Shane and Ilya are in LOVE love when she hears singing coming from the kitchen.
“Chopping carrots with Ilya,” Shane sings under his breath. “Making salad with Ilya.”
Yuna smiles softly from the dining room. This is one of her favorite things about her son. From the time he could (barely) talk, he made up little songs about anything and everything. The first time he’d done it, he’d been strapped into his car seat and watching cars go by. When he’d caught Yuna’s eye in the rear view mirror, he’d smiled with all 8 of his little teeth and waved.
“Dwiving,” he’d sung, all of 18 months old and barely able to say the word properly. “Dwivin’ wi’ Mama. Wuv Mama.”
Yuna’s not sure if it’s Shane’s way of processing the world around him, just A Thing some people do, or something special about her baby boy. All she knows is that from the first time he’d made up a little tune about Driving With Mama, everything turned into a song. When he’s comfortable and feeling at ease, Shane turns little things around him into music.
Learning to tie his shoes? “Daddy’s teaching me to tie my shoes. One lace over the other. Make the bunny ears!”
Gearing up for practice when he was 8? “Going to practice. Gonna be great. Gonna score a goal!”
Studying for a science test? “Mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell. Everyone says it because it’s true. Moving on—organelles and cell walls.”
Gearing up for his first Metros game as captain? “Taping my hockey stick. Going out on the ice. Gonna kick some ass.”
It’s something so uniquely, adorably, perfectly Shane.
Today, though? As Shane’s in the kitchen preparing a salad for lunch? For the first time, someone else sings along. For the first time in Shane’s life, someone hears the tune and lyrics that only exist in his head and joins in.
“Making salad with Shane,” Ilya croons along, hooking his chin over his boyfriend’s shoulder and wrapping strong arms around his waist. “Preparing lunch with my love.”
Shane smiles and sings back as Ilya nuzzles his neck. “Being domestic with my boyfriend. Thinking of boring things we can do together.”
Ilya laughs and kisses his ear before finishing the song. “I love to be boring with yooouuuu.”
…okay, that’s a lie. It’s a tie for the best song Yuna’s ever heard. Maybe. It’s definitely at the top of the list.
Shane pauses on the other line, breath catching as he holds back overwhelming emotion.
“Mom,” he croaks. “I…fuck.”
Yuna stays calm. She mentally takes stock of the situation. Ilya’s fine—he just texted her, a few seconds before Shane called, to warn her of the incoming storm. David’s fine—he’s sitting right next to her, confused and alarmed as their son has some manner of episode on the phone. She’s fine. So what’s—
“—wi’ Dada!”
…oh. Oh.
It’s soft at first, but picking up in volume. Tiny pit-pats in the background accompany the most beautiful little voice Yuna’s heard since Shane made up his first song, Driving With Mama, from his car seat all those years ago.
“Eating,” the little voice sings in the background. It’s garbled by what Yuna assumes are half-chewed remnants of an afternoon snack; probably organic peanut butter on apple slices. “Eating wi’ Dada. Eating wi’ Papa. Dada on phone! Who on phone, Dada?”
There’s wet laughter in the background, further from the phone. “Oh God, Shane. It’s genetic. She’s a little you!”
More tearful laughter, this time from Shane. “That’s not—she’s adopted, Ilya.”
“I don’t care what the papers say. She is you. Listen to her, she is perfect. She must be part you, sweetheart.”
Driving With Mama. Making Salad With Ilya. Top three songs for sure, as far as Yuna’s concerned. But this one? Eating With Dada and Papa, written and performed by her granddaughter for a live audience? A platinum hit. Give this baby a Grammy.
The night before Shane might win his third Stanley cup, Ilya sends him the clip of his Stanley cup win.
Confused, Shane immediately calls him.
"Is this some new and unique way to psych me out before the final, Rozanov? I didn't know you had money on Detroit."
"No, I am sending for a good reason," Ilya laughs. "I know it sucks for us that when you win all your team will be kissing their girlfriends and Pike will be making out all gross with Jackie, and we will not be able to. So, I wanted to show you exactly where I first kissed the cup. It was on the top, right over where it says Ottawa 1905, left of where it says 'Challenge Cup'. I remember because I did this on purpose. We weren't anything then, but I was thinking of you. I couldn't help thinking of you. So if you kiss the same place, it will be a little like we are sharing a kiss. And only we will know about it."
And Shane feels the air clean knocked out of his lungs and the back of his throat get tight, as he barely gets out, "Baby, that's... Thank you. I don't know what to say. I love you so fucking much. I'll make sure you see our kiss, okay?"
"I will be watching. I love you, My Shane. Go show the world why Shane Fucking Hollander is the goat, okay?"
On the night Shane wins his third Stanley Cup, he kisses their spot on the cup, thinking only of Ilya, and longs for a day where he can pull him onto the ice like Scott did with Kip.
On the night Shane wins his fourth Stanley cup, he hoists the cup into the air with his captain, they both kiss the same spot on the trophy, and then in front of the world, on his home ice, Shane Hollander kisses his husband, and it feels like a promise fulfilled.
hi everybody i started HRT at 35 so like don't even despair
being in ur twenties makes u feel like 30 is a brick wall u either fly over or crash into but i promise u it's a door and it opens up into the rest of ur life like getting past the prologue of an open world game
Shane pauses by the cake cooler. There's a spread of 5 fancy decorated cakes under sign that declares they are all made fresh at a local bakery.
He typically does not look at the cakes because he likes cake and what's the point of tempting himself with something he can't have. What's the point?
What's the fucking point to anything?
He walks away from the case with the triple chocolate fudge cake in his cart.
Because whats the fucking point?
In the chip aisle he adds two bags of salt and pepper chips, doritos, and spicy cheetos. The bright red ones that are full of preservatives and look fucking unnatural.
He had never even tried them, even though he loves spicy food. He had denied himself and got jokingly called a pussy for years for never breaking his diet for road snacks. And what was the fucking goddman point of it all?
He added ten more different types of snacks and cookies to his cart, including a box of fucking hohos.
In the drink aisle he got the energy drinks that Ilya loved but Shane never let him drink, the ones with caffeine and sugar warnings on the can. He got fried chicken from the deli and frozen pizza and seven different types of fancy cheese including a blueberry flavored one. Three different flavors of ice cream, two frozen pies, and three packs of frozen french fries because goddammit he wanted a fucking french fry.
He hadn't had fried potatoes in four fucking years. All so a bunch of traitors could maybe get the fucking Stanley fucking cup and not only had they not gotten the fucking cup, they'd iced him out of the team he'd built and carried on his goddamn back for a fucking decade. All cause he was a fucking faggot.
What was the fucking shitass goddamn fucking point to fucking anything?
He adds alcoholic seltzer in fruity fucking flavors and the three most expensive bottles of wine that the store has to his cart. Who really gave a shit anyways.
Shane doesn’t consider himself someone who cries easily. He gets worked up about things, sure, he’ll get frustrated or angry or sometimes his eyes will mist over with a lump gathering in his throat. But he doesn’t really cry. It’s a practiced habit, he doesn’t want things to get to him, he tries not to allow things to overwhelm him to the point of breaking. Isn't it much easier and more productive to jump into figuring out a plan? Or taking a deep breath and moving on? Or venting to someone who will listen and not judge him for becoming upset? These feel like much more attainable tasks, something that makes so much more sense to him.
Even though he knows not every time can be like that.
Hence the downside, it also means whatever’s wrong has the opportunity to build to the point where he can’t do anything else other than let tears fall down his cheeks.
—
Honestly, Shane’s felt like he’s been in a sour mood since he woke up. There’s something going on with the Metros that just…hasn’t been right ever since he came out. The comradery and teamsmanship that he once had in the palm of his hands, something that was so easy to click into and work towards not one but two Cups seems like a distant memory. There are whispers and looks and wordless foreboding that somehow feels like betrayal—like Shane has done something awful by just being himself.
He knows not everyone feels like that, that he’s got some great people as team members and friendships. But it’s not the same. He doesn’t regret this step forward in his life but he also, at the same time, wishes not everything was so hard.
On top of everything else, he misses Ilya. Their schedules have flipflopped in a way that it’s been three weeks since he’s last seen him—Facetime calls and text messages just aren’t enough. So the moment Shane gets back to Ottawa, coming off of a losing game, he makes a b-line to Ilya’s place.
His boyfriend barely opens the door before Shane is dropping his bags in the entryway and wrapping his arms around him. The force of the hug nearly knocks Ilya back a step, a small amused sound rumbling in Ilya’s chest.
“I heard that absence makes the dick grow harder.”
God. Shane rolls his eyes but he’s smiling against this idiot’s shoulder, “That’s really not the saying.” He replies, voice muffled. He wonders how long Ilya has been sitting on that comment, waiting for the perfect time to say it.
Ilya squeezes him around his middle, a kiss pressed to his neck, “I think it might be.”
And while as entertaining as that is, when Shane pulls back, Ilya’s demeanor shifts as he gets a good look at his face. His hand moves to cup his cheek, brushing his thumb over his freckles and Shane has to bite the side of his tongue so he doesn’t do something stupid like cry in the entryway,
“You are okay?”
He lets out a slow breath that shakes a little at the end. He wants to tell him that it’s been a shitty day—a shitty three weeks really. That he missed him, that he’s afraid he doesn’t want to play for the Metros anymore, that his entire life and everything he’s worked for is gently shifting in a direction that…that he wants to be in but…that it’s terrifying. That sometimes Ilya feels like the only grounding source that there is.
“I’m just tired,” He admits, sniffling, before running his fingers over his eyebrow.
Ilya watches carefully, nodding, but Shane can tell that he doesn’t completely believe him. He lets it go though, which Shane is grateful for, leaning down to pick up his bag to take towards the laundry room.
“Go shower. I’ll make dinner.”
And it’s that quiet, gentle intimacy that makes Shane so grateful to be home.
—
Shane knows that Ilya can tell something is off. While Shane wouldn’t consider himself someone who’s chatty, he definitely talks more than this. He showers, pulls on a pair of sweatpants and one of Ilya’s hoodies and lingers around him as he does mundane tasks to get dinner ready. There’s an effortless balance of Shane remaining close but Ilya not prying. He’ll gently thread his fingers through Shane’s hair or brush his hand over his shoulder, or press a kiss to his cheek as he moves around the kitchen. But he doesn’t ask Shane what’s wrong.
Shane wonders if Ilya just…knows. He’s sure that he watched his game, that he’s absorbed his team’s loss, that he’s frustrated that the team just isn’t gelling anymore and it feels like it’s his fault. That he’s holding something on his shoulders that he has no business bearing.
When Ilya encourages Shane to go into the living room and sit, he does and eventually his husband joins him with two bowls of pasta.
“Your mom gave me sauce recipe.” Ilya smiles warmly, like he’s proud he’s put together something that feels like family. Like home.
And it just lodges that hurt in the back of Shane’s throat again. His fingers are shaking as he runs them over the lower half of his face, “Did you watch the game with them?”
Ilya hums, “Yes. Yuna and I took turns screaming at refs—David took videos he can show you.” He smirks in soft amusement, sitting down next to Shane on the couch, “Before I forget…can I ask best player in league for an autograph?”
It’s said so simply— in such an absolute, that regardless that Ilya is teasing him, he means it—that Shane’s chest cracks wide open. His hand moves to cover his entire face, the bridge of his nose stinging as his eyes sheen over. Shane attempts to take a deep breath but his chest ends up shuddering instead, tears on the brinks of his eyelashes spilling over.
“Shane,” Ilya whispers, soft concern and affection and far too much for Shane to handle.
His hand moves to rest on the back of his neck and Shane finds himself shaking his head, like he can somehow hide this reaction even though it’s too late for that.
“I’m s-sorry,” Shane breathes out, the urge to move, to hide but Ilya won’t let him.
That same hand on the back of his neck moves to his shoulder as his boyfriend shuffles closer, his lips pressed to Shane’s cheek, “Shh, no. Is okay.” His lips move to his temple, nose pressing into his hair, “Come here.” His other hand gently grips Shane’s chin, forcing him to look towards him. His lower lip wobbles when his brown eyes meet blue, “Come here, Shane.”
Shane allows Ilya to turn his body, to pull him into his chest. Ilya shifts until his back is tucked into the corner of the couch, tugging Shane until he’s mapped over him. Shane hides his face in Ilya’s shoulder, his fingers digging into his t-shirt, holding onto him as pathetic sobs tumble out of his chest. Everything he’s been holding back lately, all the frustration he’s been stewing in just pours out of him. Ilya wraps his arms around him, keeping him close, squeezing him every so often as his fingers massage the back of his neck and thread through his hair. He’s quiet, offering the occasional shh and comforting Russian.
It takes a few minutes for him to calm down, until he’s a soft mess of sniffles and hiccups. He wipes his cheek, Ilya’s hand soothing through his hair and down his spine, resting low on his back. Shane licks his lips, glancing at the bowls of pasta on the table; fuck.
“I didn’t mean to ruin dinner.”
Ilya shakes his head, “I know how to work microwave,” He presses a kiss to his forehead, letting his lips linger there, “Besides, seems like that was building up for a while.”
There’s no judgement in Ilya’s voice even though Shane feels a flush kiss the back of his neck in silent embarrassment. Even though his boyfriend isn’t trying to make a statement connected to guilt, he has been letting a lot build up lately. Unloading like this just tells Shane he should have tried to talk about things as they happened—the Metros, the frustration with the team not clicking, the missing Ilya; all of it.
“Just a lot going on,” He sniffs, resting against Ilya’s chest. His boyfriend opens his legs a little until Shane’s body slips between his knees. Shane turns his head so that his chin is resting on his sternum, their noses brushing, “I should have told you.”
Ilya paints his thumb across Shane’s cheekbone, dragging it down to run along his lower lip, “You’re telling me now, that’s what matters.”
Shane lets out a slow breath, nodding—he supposes that’s true.
And he does. Shane tells him everything. It’s slow and lazy and broken up with Ilya heating up their dinner. It’s not always the most coherent way to go about sharing all the things Shane wants to say, but Ilya follows nonetheless. He offers support in gentle words or intimate touches. And it’s enough. It’s more than enough.
When dinner is done, Ilya tugs Shane back onto his chest, tucking him along his shoulder. He presses a slow series of kisses to his forehead, “I missed you too.” He eventually says.
Shane closes his eyes, a small smile pulling the corners of his mouth, “Yeah?” He asks, Ilya’s hand sliding down his back again. His fingers play with the waistband of his sweatpants, “Me or my dick?”
Ilya smiles against Shane’s mouth, nipping at his lower lip, “Guess we will see.” And playfully grabs his ass.
Have a medieval fantasy au brewing in my beautiful mind that culminates in Shane throwing himself in front of the sword to stop Ilya from being beheaded and it’s so buzzy to meeeee. Ilya is a banished prince who’s being tracked down by his brother sent to kill him by their father. Ilya is hiding out undercover as part of prince Shane’s personal guard. Ilya is there to kill Shane to regain his father’s favor (basically a zuko and the avatar thing where it’s an impossible task Ilya will most certainly die trying to do if his brother doesn’t find him firs) but he sees shane for the first time and thinks that’s the face they write love songs about. That’s the face that inspires poets everywhere. That’s the face that artists spend their lives trying to replicate the beauty of. he knows immediately he could never kill Shane. and Shane for his part is so enchanted by Ilya. Ilya who teases him and jokes with him. Ilya who pushes him to be better, because he tells Shane all the time he’s the best of them all and Shane wants to earn that praise. The fantasy comes in mostly with Shane having repeated visions of Ilya’s impending death that he keeps trying to convince everyone around him is coming, please, help, because he knows it’s coming. and everyone is like. Shaneeee it’s just dreamssss it’s so normal. And besides it’s literally his job to die for you lol? Calm down. You’re crazy. Except for Ilya who is very aware that’s Shane’s dreams are visions because he’s getting too many facts right— but still is trying to convince Shane not to worry about it (he has accepted his death since he laid eyes on Shane)
Caught up in my feelings about Shane actively learning to accept and work through sensory regulation and his overstimulated nervous system.
In my mind, Yuna happened upon Jellycats when Shane was pretty young (I had one as a kid because my mum got excited about toy trends and most of my classmates had one so she saved for my birthday and I LOVED it). Anyway, I think Yuna would purchase one when Shane suddenly doesn't hate Kindergarten because his teacher has acquired a Jellycat for the quiet corner of the classroom. In my mind Shane spends all his time completing puzzles and reading books in this corner when he can, and Yuna is just like, "okay, he's not making friends or playing with kids, but AT LEAST he doesn't hate school now," and so she buys him one. She gets him the Bashful Bunny version. At first she's unsure, its light pink, its got flower designs in the ears, but when she shows Shane the website, its the one he wants. Says its just like the one at school. And, well, Shane is so particular, Yuna knows her son, and in my mind, Yuna is a supportive mom, but she's also got some ideas about perception and maybe deep down she thinks ideas about boy vs girl toys are reductive, but she is way more preoccupied with fitting in. Molding and changing herself has been a part of her identity since her family immigrated when she was young. She was always making herself smaller for people, always considered too different too driven too confident, and she doesn't want Shane to be ostracized the way that she was. So in my headcanon of Shane's childhood, Yuna is always just lightly steering Shane onto the path of least resistance. I think David initially resists this a bit, preferring to let Shane be whatever way he is, and I think their marriage was probably pretty rocky during those early years of raising Shane because of disagreements about how to raise and respond to their son, but ultimately, I think David just decides to steps back a bit on that front (maybe in result of a larger fight in which Yuna expresses that he will never understand the way she was treated and thus will never fully understand the struggles Shane will face being biracial.)
Anyway, all this to say, I think after Shane, ever stubborn, ever himself while he's young (not yet knowing that he was supposed to shrink himself to fit in) tries to steal the Jellycat from school and thus twists Yuna's hand. She buys him the Bashful Bunny and god he loves it, (hilariously names him Bun-edict with the help of David), and carries it everywhere, cuddles with it on the couch, pets its floppy ears when he's upset, rubs his cheek on the fluffy top of its head absentmindedly, he hugs it to his chest tightly while he's reading. When it arrives he's doing a happy wiggle just waiting for Yuna to open the box and she's TAKING TOO LONG MOM, and Yuna is at first uncomfortable with how much he likes it, worries about it getting dirty. She closes the blinds when he's in the kitchen with the plushie just in case the neighbor will peak through the blinds of the stuffy house next door in the suburban hell which is the their home and hate her five-old-son who doesn't care to know that pink soft things are for little girls. This neighbor who already looks at them funny when she lets Shane play and jump in the front yard sprinkler, who smiled noncommitally when she offered to invite her son over for a playdate with Shane, saying, "For sure! I just don't know if that their will be anything he can eat" and "Well are boys are just raised so differently," and "my son is just so rowdy they probably don't have much in common. But really, you got so lucky with such a....sensitive kid, must be a dream." But then Shane nuzzles the bashful bunny and hums happily with his nose stuck in a Second Grade Reader booklet about Silly Hotdogs, her son, so smart and so small and already so different, and she just can't bring herself to take that comfort away from him. So she washes the toy and carefully air dries it so stay fluffy and soft and she lovingly rubs its tufts with Tatami scented oil which Shane adores and snuffles and when she gathers her son in her arms, he smells like home and Yuna can't breathe in enough of it even as she struggles to pull in the next rush of air.
Then one day, Shane comes home from second grade without Bashful Bunny (whom he'd packed in his backpack to read with on every library day since the first grade), and doesn't speak when asked where his plushie went, he just gives a blank stare and looks away. At dinner, she asks again, and he just shrugs his shoulders but she knows her baby and its not nonchalant, but stilted and sad and his fingers are digging into his thighs where they once dug into Bun-edict's soft fur. He quietly says that he is too old for stuffed animals now and asks if he may be excused to his room after dinner. Yuna doesn't know what happened, but she suspects, and her suspicion festers as Shane grows and resists the soft things he used to love, festers more when he hums less and becomes rigid like a board with his thumbs tucked safely into the little pockets of his cargo shorts instead of wiggling around trying to contain his latent energy. and joy. And that suspicion turns into longingguiltpain and desperation to make the world understand her son, but she sits with it all because she knows it might be for the best that Shane learns early to mold himself for the world because she knew better than most that the world was never going to change for him.
idk how yall feel about autistic shane on this site but i feel very strongly about him!!!! especially when he goes over to the centaurs and it’s a place that is so unbelievably kind that he doesn’t even realize they’re accommodating him.
like…. young, spry, starry-eyed luca haas who is already thanking his lucky stars for getting into the NHL playing with ilya rozanov (who he had posters of above his bed) and he’s absorbing as much information as he can from him. until suddenly he gets to play on the same line as shane fucking hollander?!!!!! the man whose religion is hockey - he who eats and breathes it. ofc he’s going to ask questions. and shane, sweet wonderful shane, will just ramble and ramble and ramble about things like his stick taping routine, the waxes he uses, and his skate sharpening technique. and luca would just listen and absorb every word like a sponge until shane realizes he’s rambling and he apologizes with a lil blush on his face and luca doesn’t understand why he’s apologizing because he loves to listen to the shane hollander talk for hours. and so luca makes it a point to always ask shane questions even about the smallest things just to see the way his eyes sparkle as he info dumps about hockey.
or shane who is having a few back to back very bad no good days at practice. and one day it’s just too much and the lights are too bright and his skin feels like it’s stretched too tight across his bones and his equipment is heavy and it’s wrong on his skin. and ilya, his perfect beautiful husband who always knows what to do, isn’t around (he has to meet with the coaches). and shane can’t catch a breath and he’s fighting with his gear and his skates. he closes his eyes so tight it hurts and his lungs feel like they’re on fire because he can’t get a good deep breath. until suddenly everything is muffled. there’s a pressure over his temples and when he looks up, the light is being eclipsed by wyatt hayes who is pressing noise cancelling headphones over shane’s ears. he’s taking exaggerated breaths so shane can match him. and the knot in shane’s chest loosens just enough for everything to be bearable for a few minutes. he asks wyatt how he knew what to do and wyatt says his nephew is the same. he noticed it a while ago but ilya was always there to help, but he’s glad he was here now. and shane will thank him and wyatt will usher him off to the showers where the hot water will loosen more of the knot in his chest until he’s back with ilya. suddenly, though, shane feels like crying because he’s never had someone else, besides ilya, to bear this weight with and it feels a little liberating.
or shane and ilya who are late to a classic Boodram BBQ™ and now they don’t have time to stop at the store to grab some ginger ale for shane. and he is so disappointed at the prospect of having to drink water all night because he doesn’t drink during the season and he’d rather die than drink a coke, but alas it is what it is. when they get there, they make their way greeting everyone. ilya giving bro hugs and fist bumps while shane politely waves and smiles and no one feels offended for not getting a bro hug in return. all just content to give shane his space. and when they finally all gather around to eat, shane asks where the non-alcoholic cooler is so he can get a drink to sip on while he eats. he opens the cooler and is almost brought to tears when he sees cans upon cans of his favorite brand of ginger ale. he didn’t have to ask… everyone just knew.
or when they’re on a roadie, a few guys decide to get dinner together at a japanese place not too far from the hotel. and shane is staring at the silverware with so much malcontent because it’s literally the ugliest fucking fork he’s ever seen and it should burn to hell. and the chopsticks aren’t even japanese, they’re chinese (and yes they’re different). he texted ilya asking if he’s almost done with his meeting because the travel utensils he carries around are in his duffel bag, but ilya lets him know it’ll be another 20 minutes. but troy barrett, noticing his discomfort, pipes up and says something about a video he saw online about certain sushi’s that are meant to be eaten with your hands and without utensils of any kind and they have them on the menu. and so in true centaurs fashion they ditch the silverware and chopsticks, and eat with their hands. and shane has a soft gentle smile on his lips the entire time.
but, most importantly, is that shane can show love in his own way. like one day, when shane is out shopping with rose at some LA mall, he stops at the lego store to get one of the pike kids some birthday present or something. while he’s looking around, he sees a lego set that was in the shape of the batman logo and he instantly buys it. once he’s back in ottawa he places it in his duffle bag before practice and when he’s walks into the locker room, he goes over to wyatt and hands it to him. he’s rambling on and on, with a gentle blush and avoiding eye contact, saying “i saw this when i was in LA and i thought of you… i wasn’t sure if you preferred DC or marvel, but most of the comics you’ve mentioned are DC so i hope i chose right” and wyatt is staring at the lego box in his hands with his mouth open and his brain short circuiting. because wdym shane hollander listened to him talk about super heroes and actually payed attention?? enough to know his favorite franchise, and he took time and money out of his day to purchase something so silly simply because it reminded him of his goalie. and he’s looking back and forth between shane and the box of lego’s with a smile so wide, too big for his face, and he stands up and pulls shane into a bone crushing hug before releasing him quickly and apologizing for the embrace before telling shane it’s the best gift he’s ever received.
We don’t talk about this enough. With all the big romantic gestures in The Long Game, this, to me, is one of the most romantic moments.
We know Ilya isn’t a fan of Shane’s restrictive diet. He teases him about it, but Ilya is an expert ragebaiter who knows how to tease the people he cares about when they feel safe and in ways that never really hurt.
Shane is “frantic” in this scene. Ilya has the perfect opening to say something about his diet, and he doesn’t take it. He sees that Shane is panicking, steps in and fixes it. He was looking at that menu thinking about Shane and Shane’s fuckass diet that Ilya doesn’t even like. But he knows this is important to Shane. He knows Shane is already nervous about being on a date with Ilya in public and being with another queer couple. So he meets Shane’s needs without Shane ever having to ask, and he does it quietly, without drawing any attention, so that Shane can save face.
Of course he’s gonna tease him about it a little bit later because that’s what they do. But he only does that AFTER Shane’s had a chance to catch his breath and feel safe again.
#there's tpe in the source text#we're not crazy#it's right there#hr.kink#tpe#hollanov#hr.txt
#big tpe vibes here ngl…#the high highs and low lows of rr’s writing#reblog#hr
in addition to these excellent tags i will add: this is the beauty of tpe for them right on the page. because shane is looking for the most restrictive option. he's only gonna have a salad.
when ilya chooses for him, he chooses a very balanced meal, something much more likely to meet the nutritional needs of a serious athlete (and not nothing but there's even simple carbs in there!) he makes a choice for shane that is better than the choice shane was going to make for himself. but he also chooses something that is okay with shane, that he knows will make him feel safe, that's within his limits. and shane can allow himself to be taken care of because it's ilya's choice, but ilya wouldn't make a choice that would genuinely distress shane even if i bet ilya would rather shane eat a burger and fries
They move in together full time and Ilya notices that Anya acts differently with Shane than she does with him, more quiet and less playful, and he worries that means she doesn’t like Shane or is jealous, so he hires a dog trainer to come over and see if there’s anything they need to do to help
After a while of talking about how Anya acts the trainer says there’s nothing to worry about, Anya likes Shane just fine, it’s just that she sees him as the boss and is acting accordingly
And Ilya is like. But. I’m the one who adopted her? And raised her before Shane got here?? And the trainer is just like yeah well she sees you more like an equal. And Ilya is like WAIT she thinks Shane is in charge of both of us?? And the trainer is just like well do you interact in a way that would make her think that?
Ilya’s life flashes before his eyes as he thinks of all the times Shane has come over with a snack for Ilya and a treat for Anya, or all the times Shane has announced they’re all going for an after dinner walk, or pets Ilya’s hair and tells him he did a good job at practice, or the fact that he uses the same warning tone with Anya when she misbehaves as he does with Ilya when he’s causing problems on purpose
Shane comes home to Ilya with his face in his hands going oh god I’m not Anya’s dad I’m her brother and she thinks we’re both your pets. And Shane just goes. What.
Shane has always been a big napper. When he was young, school really tired him out. So many different people around him for such an extended period of time, expectations of certain behaviour, having to socialise, having to pay attention, having to answer questions, the constant hum of fluorescent lights overhead. He came home exhausted and in need of a nap more often than not. There were also the panics. Sometimes they were big, sometimes they were small, but they usually left him feeling wrung out and he didn't really function well until he'd had a nap after one. Becoming a professional hockey player hasn't changed this, if anything it's made it a useful skill. A little post-practice nap is sometimes just the thing he needs and a pre-game nap can make all the difference to his play. With the constant travelling and endless timezone changes, napping becomes a necessity.
Ilya, however, never quite got the hang of it. He knows a lot of his teammates nap whenever and wherever, falling asleep before games in hotel rooms or resting up on the road, snores filling the team bus or plane, but Ilya can't quite get there. It's probably a remnant from childhood, from not feeling safe enough to let his guard down like that. He can't even imagine what the reaction would have been if his father had come home to find him asleep on the couch. He was certainly quick enough to accuse him of laziness without Ilya handing over additional ammunition for free.
But Ilya loves holding Shane when he naps. He loves how quickly his body grows lax, loves the gradual shift in the depth of his breaths, loves the warmth of his body pressed against him, loves his sleepy little sounds and scrunched little face when he wakes up, loves that Shane trusts him enough to be that vulnerable around him. Shane doesn't really know that Ilya doesn't nap, not with how often Ilya's the one to suggest one, not with the way Ilya makes sure to feign coming out of sleep as soon as he feels Shane shift in his arms in that particular way that suggests he's waking up. He doesn't want to risk Shane feeling like Ilya's doing him a favour with holding him through his naps, doesn't know whether he can admit how much he loves their naps even though they never include Ilya falling asleep. He likes the way things are. He doesn't want to risk it changing.
Eventually it does change though. Not because Shane discovers Ilya's secret of never actually falling asleep but because, a few years into their marriage, Ilya start... actually falling asleep. He never plans to. He loves getting to spend that time resting with Shane while staying alert enough to catalogue his every sleep-muddled sigh, his every shift. He just feels so warm, so full of love, so incredibly safe that one day he just... drifts off. After that it keeps happening. He has Shane in his arms, he's enjoying his breathing, he's loving this moment, he doesn't want to lose consciousness, he wants to stay in it, but his eyelids are drooping. He lets them shut, just for a minute, but then he wakes up to Shane's smiling face, his eyes soft and sleep-warm, his hands gentle as they cradle Ilya's face and run through his curls, and he can't be mad at himself for having missed out on those precious moments if this is what he gets to wake up to. Time is no longer a limited resource. Safety is no longer conditional on remaining alert. He has the rest of his life to enjoy this, to let himself be lulled to sleep by Shane's breathing and waking up to his soft touches. He can let his eyes drift shut and trust that Shane will still be there when he wakes.
feeling unreasonably amused and fond about the idea of bb shane figuring out that timeout=having to go sit somewhere quiet and not have anyone talk to him
and thus putting HIMSELF in timeout especially at family events with a frequency that has other family members pulling yuna and david aside to be like, "he really didn't do anything wrong, he doesn't need to be in timeout. it's okay." and them having to figure out a way to explain that yeah, they know. this wasn't their call. he is free to leave whenever he wants. he's literally not in trouble for anything. he went up to yuna, said "mommy, i need a timeout" and then walked himself off to go sit in the guest room looking SO pleased at this loophole out of having to talk to people when he's tired of it.
Shane slips so easily into subspace that it's honestly a bit of a problem. Sometimes all it takes is a firm kiss and a pat to the cheek and Ilya can already see Shane drifting a little. You can see it in the bathroom in Vegas, how he almost let himself go, how he had to pull himself back when Ilya left the room. And that was early on in the situationship era. As his trust in Ilya grows and he starts letting him shoulder more of the weight Shane is constantly lugging around through the sheer effort of being himself, it only gets easier and easier for him to go to that floaty place where he doesn't have to worry about anything but doing exactly as Ilya wants.
Luckily, Ilya has grown incredibly good at spotting the first signs of Shane slipping - kind of by ill necessity. He has had to pull him back in a crowded bar after a deep kiss, when Shane was a little too tipsy to keep his defences up; in a hotel lobby when their check-in was delayed and Shane was so tired that a single hand pressed to the back of his neck, firmly digging into the knots there, nearly put him under; in several public bathrooms they'd retreated to in order to escape the crowds, when Shane was already wrung out by socialising and having to be Shane Hollander.
It was honestly a little scary to Ilya when he first started noticing it. It was a little terrifying how much blind faith Shane had in him, how deeply he trusted him to take care of everything. Now he basks in it. Places his hands gently on either side of Shane's face and tells him, "not yet. Stay with me." And Shane does. Always so eager to obey. He keeps his head above water, doesn't let himself get dragged down, purely because Ilya said not to. And when they get back home, whether that is their actual home or whichever hotel they are currently staying at, Ilya rewards him by allowing him to let go. Revels in watching Shane's grip on his control slacken as he lets himself drift away, trusting that Ilya will be there to catch him.
all i want is you. it’s always you @botheredbuck - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
