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[dcmonblood]

THE WALKING DEAD: DEAD CITY (2023-) 3.01 ☆ Trillium

[pedrospascaled]

DEAD CITY S03E01 - Trillium

[dogpuppy]

[likeafantasy]

[grabyoursaintsandpray]

I am so here for Maggie and Negan being wanted and on the run together.

This poster has stirred my sleeping story writing brain.

Episode 1 was so good, it was funny and sweet and it has reignited my love for the show. There's also dozens of scenes I want to gif from it but its midnight so I may have to limit myself tonight.

[likeafantasy]

THE WALKING DEAD: DEAD CITY 3.01 Trillium

[grabyoursaintsandpray]

[tropotropotropo]

Don't let that red string of fate choke ya

[snowsmoked]

I know it’s a joke with the burger scene but myShane is genuinely bad at math. He never liked it in school, he uses his phone calculator for everything, and he rarely even has to do math.

On the other hand, myIlya is pretty good at math. Not a math genius, but it was his favourite subject in school.

When Shane learns that Ilya has no problem doing basic equations in his head, he immediately starts using him for anything math related.

“Ilya, this recipe says to use 1/3 cups for 8 servings but I want to make 3 servings.”

“Ilya, what would a 20% tip be on this?”

“Ilya, can you look at this statement the contractor sent over? I have no idea what it’s saying.”

And Ilya grumbles and teases about Shane using him as a human calculator, but he (not so secretly) loves it.

Because as someone who’s been very dependent, for most of his adult life, on other people helping/correcting his English, math is some he understands and can help Shane with.

Though, Shane gets his fair amount of teasing in too.

Shane: Are you ready yet? We’re going to be late.

Ilya: my 9 inches is ready 😈

Shane: I thought you were suppose to be good at math…

Ilya: 😠

[snowsmoked]

One of the Shane's traits that Ilya finds most endearing is his inquisitiveness. Shane asks a lot of questions. He asks about people, he asks hypotheticals, he asks for opinions. He even asks follow-up questions.

It's not rare for Shane to start a conversation with an abrupt, blunt question. So it really shouldn't have surprised him when Shane interrupted the comfortable silence of breakfast to ask, "did you like fucking women more than men?"

Ilya paused, his spoonful of Lucky Charms (Shane could pry them from his cold dead hands) half way to his mouth. "What?"

"Like before we were together, obviously."

"Shane, you know I love fucking you more than I've ever loved fucking anyone else."

"I know," Shane rolled his eyes and held up his wedding ring. "I meant, like, in general."

"Why are you asking then?"

"Rose asked me once if being with a man was better," Shane explained. "And obviously, yes for me, because I'm gay. But you like both, so I just... I dunno. I wondered if you liked one a little better."

"Hmm," Ilya considered. He tried to answer all Shane's questions as well as he could. "I don't know. I have only been with two men."

"You - really?"

"Yes," Ilya nodded. "Just you and Sasha. It was risky to find men and I like women, so. That was easier. Sometimes men flirt with me but they weren't..."

"Weren't what?"

"They weren't...," Ilya realized his answer then, one he hadn't even been aware of until he thought about it. "They weren't you."

Shane did one of Ilya's favourite smiles. His lips pressed together, a little awkward, one that he couldn't control and he did when he was really pleased.

But of course, now Shane was curious, so he followed up, "how is it different?"

"You have fucked women, Shane."

"I know," Shane rolled his eyes. "But I wasn't attracted to them. You were. I mean, it must of been good."

"With me, always," Ilya smirked and Shane scoffed, but didn't deny it. "It's different in a lot of ways. I can be rougher with you."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. Some women like rough, too, but I can't be too rough. Most women don't like sucking cock as much as you do."

"They don't?" Shane's brows drew together, so adorably confused about how someone wouldn't love sucking cock.

"Not usually," Ilya shrugged. "But it was fine. More time for eating pussy."

Shane scrunched up his face like Ilya didn't just eat him out this morning. Or maybe he was jealous. Like a jealous little kitten when their mama is paying attention to someone else

Ilya suddenly got an idea. A great idea.

"Biggest difference was probably the challenge," Ilya lamented, keeping a close eye on Shane's expression.

"What challenge," Shane eyes zeroed in on him like a little cat on a laser pointer.

"Oh you know," Ilya said distractedly, using all his self control to keep his face blank. "How many times women can come."

"What do you mean?"

"They don't have a, uh, cool down time, you know," Ilya said. It might not have been strictly true. He knew most women needed a little cool down, but much less than men. But he didn't have time for semantics right now while he's trying to rile up his husband. "I mean, they can come over and over and over..."

"I get it," Shane said tightly, stabbing his protein pancake with a little too much force.

"I think my record was like 20 times in one hour."

"Oh fuck off, it was not."

"It was."

It was not. More like 8 times, which was still impressive, in his humble opinion.

Then Shane paused and considered him. He had that cute concentrated face he gets when he's thinking through a play.

"We have tomorrow off," Shane thought aloud. "We could go by day instead of hour because that's fucking impossible. Or, maybe 12 hour periods." Shane taps his fingers against the table and narrows his eyes. "We could keep score with each other."

This isn't fair. This was Ilya's fun game to make Shane jealous and get to fuck a jealous Shane before practice which was one of his favourite types of Shane to fuck.

"What do you mean," Ilya asked.

"We make it a challenge," Shane smirked a little. "Since you miss that so much. Tomorrow. 12 hours. How many times I make you come are points for me and how many times you make me come are points for you."

"Fuck, Shane," Ilya readjusted himself and glanced at the clock. "We have 2 hours before practice. We can get a head start."

"No way," Shane stood up and started clearing the table. "We need to start fresh for tomorrow. No sex today or tonight."

He really should have known that first question was a fucking trap.

Ilya groaned and grabbed his bowl to help Shane clear up breakfast. It was going to be a long day. And an even longer day tomorrow. (He couldn't wait)

[snowsmoked]

Shane doesn't dislike his body. He likes what it can do - that it listens to him, that it responds in a predictable way. He knows he's conventionally attractive, he knows his husband finds him attractive. So, he doesn't dislike his body.

But, like everyone, his body has it's imperfections. Ones that are visual, but don't effect his function. Ones that are just annoying.

Ones like his stretch marks. He got them as a young teenager, when he starting gaining muscle faster than his skin could stretch to accommodate it.

Ones like the dips in his lower back that he could never fill out with muscle.

Ones like the layer of fat over his stomach that never lets him have really visible definition unless he restricts his water intake.

He's used to these things being airbrushed away when he does commercials or promotions or modeling. Stretch marks are smoothed over, his back is groove free, his abs are well defined. Foundations smooths out his skin and his body is arranged in the most flattering light.

He's never given it much thought. It's just what post-production does - make people look perfect.

His viewpoints shifts one day, as he goes through the photo album on his husband's phone. The Cens are doing a Paws for Pucks night and Harris requested a few pictures of everyone's dogs for their post. Ilya takes a lot more pictures of Anya (or just pictures in general) than Shane. And for some reason, Ilya roped Shane into finding suitable pictures.

He couldn't resist opening the album that was simply titled 'Shane'.

There were hundreds photos of Shane. There were super close-ups of his face with the .5 lens that made his eyes and forehead look big and his chin look little. There were pictures of him on the couch leaning over, skin rolls visible on his stomach. A picture of him blinking, with his eyes half closed. A picture of him sleeping with his face smushed on the couch. A picture of him looking down at his phone that makes it look like he has a double chin. A zoomed in picture of the crinkle lines by his eyes when he smiles. A picture of him first thing in the morning, grumpy look on his red, puffy face. A picture of him from the side with his face slathered in shaving cream.

And yes, there were some of Shane's modeling pictures and some stills from hockey videos, but the vast majority where just random candid photos.

He's not really used to seeing photos of himself like this.

"You are snooping?"

"Jesus Christ!" Shane jumped at his husband's voice behind him. He twisted around on the couch, unhappy look on his face. "Why do you have all these?" He waved the phone.

"Photos of my husband?"

"Photos like - like this!" Shane tapped on one. A picture of him with his hair sticking up in all directions, hand rubbing at his clearly tired eyes.

"That one?" Ilya leaned over the back of the couch, arms wrapping around Shane's shoulders. "That one is because you looked adorable."

"I did not," Shane grumbled. "I look stupid in all these pictures."

"You think my husband looks stupid?" Ilya's arms tightened.

"I am your husband," Shane selected another picture. A zoomed in picture of the stretch marks on his thighs that wrap around to his ass. "And yes, in these pictures, I look stupid."

"You don't look stupid," Ilya pressed a hand on his forehead, pulling his head back so he was looking up at Ilya leaning over him. "That is what you look like."

"Well, sorry," Shane wiggled out of his grasp, embarrassed.

"Why sorry?" Ilya hopped over the back of the couch, causing Shane to grunt as he was jostled, and settled next to him. "These are my favourite pictures. Not all pictures make the cut for this album."

"But they're all so...," Shane struggled for the word. Saying ugly was not necessarily true. It felt true, but he knew that wouldn't be well received. "Unflattering."

That still seemed to make Ilya unhappy. "I am your husband."

"...okay?"

"I am not just stupid crush or boyfriend. I get to see all of you. Not just public you. Not dressed up you. I get to have it all. This is just for me."

"Oh," Shane looked back at the photos. It was true - he wasn't much for posting online anyway, but he had a brand to keep up. He's sure that Rolex wouldn't enjoy people seeing him out and about in old sweat pants with holes in the knees.

"And," Ilya continued, pulling him over to rest his head on Ilya's chest. "You understand we will not always look like underwear models, yes? We get old, retire, abs are gone. Gray in our hair. Wrinkles. Still, you will be most sexy man in the world to me. Because you are my husband."

Shane swallowed, the familiar feeling of tears in his eyes. "You really think that far ahead, Rozanov?"

"That is Hollander-Rozanov to you," Ilya whispered into his hair. "And yes, I do. About this."

[snowsmoked]

Ilya has a lot of shame around aftercare. These days, now that Shane is his boyfriend and he can admit how much he loves him, aftercare is one of his favourite parts of sex.

He loves bringing Shane a warm towel, helping him wipe down. He loves massaging soap on Shane’s sore, but relaxed muscles in the shower. He loves bringing Shane a snack and feeding him by hand. He loves how boneless Shane goes, how snuggly and warm and carefree.

But he can never shake the feeling of deep regret after each time. He remembers how, for years, he did not do this for Shane. He would let himself indulge just as much as he dared, laying in bed together for a couple minutes, sometimes showering together (but that always ended in shower sex), throwing a towel or clothes at Shane.

The first time he tried to provide the type of aftercare he wanted, was the day Shane left him for Rose Landry. Shane insists he didn't 'leave him for Rose Landry' because A. they weren't together and B. he met Rose weeks later. But since Ilya was the one that got left, he feels entitled to call it how he wanted to.

"I'm sorry," Ilya apologized one day, running his hand through a pliant Shane's hair.

"For what?" Shane mumbled.

"For not doing this," Ilya said. "For so many years. For just kicking you out."

Shane sighed and propped himself up on his elbows. "Ilya."

"What?"

"You never just 'kicked me out,'" Shane scrunched up his nose. Adorable. "If you had tried to do this at first, I probably would have freaked out."

"You did freak out," Ilya sulked.

"I did," Shane smiled and leaned up to kiss him. "I love this, you know? I love that you take such good care of me afterwards."

Ilya felt warmth spread inside his chest. "I'm glad."

"But," Shane caught his eye. "I didn't need it. You always took care of me, maybe just not this much. But I never felt, I mean, almost never felt bad afterwards, except, you know."

Vegas. They had talked about that, extensively.

"But, Ilya," Shane continued, cupping his face in his hand. "I don't think that I need this as much as you do."

Ilya considered this for a moment. It was true - this settled Ilya, it convinced him that he did well, he took care of Shane, and made him happy. He didn't hurt him.

"You don't need this?"

"I do," Shane said. "But so do you. So if you're sorry about not doing it, so am I."

"But, I am..."

"You're what?" Shane challenged.

"You're right," Ilya conceded and gently pushed him back down. "Then let's both make up for lost time, yes?"

[snowsmoked]

The longest ongoing argument between Shane and Ilya is who made the first move. Their friends and teammates have learned to never ask that question or they'll argue about it for hours.

"So, how did you two meet?" That was fine, safe territory.

They both answered the same way, "a parking lot in Saskatchewan when we were 17."

But, the question, "so who made the first move?" Unsafe territory, turn back now.

"You introduced yourself to me!"

"That wasn't making a move! You organized a whole photoshoot."

"You shook my hand, twice! You looked me up and down!"

"I did not!"

"You had a crush on me."

"You had a crush on me!"

"You called me a hot player to watch."

"I did not and you know that, Rozanov."

"My English wasn't good."

"You - okay, draft night?"

"What about it? Oh, when you kept staring at my cock?"

"No! When you kept touching my hand and had your legs all spread in front of me!"

"You were staring at me."

"You winked at me."

"You took water bottle."

"Because you told me to!"

"Well, you were blushing on photoshoot."

"You called me pretty, twice!"

"You were laughing!"

"So were you!"

"Because you kept looking at me like - like that!"

"You told me you organized the shoot!"

"You agreed to it! You wanted to see me again."

"You starting jerking off at me in the shower!"

"Only because you were checking out my ass!"

"I was not!"

"Yes, you were! I would not do that if you were not checking me out!"

"You asked for my room number!"

"You waited for me to come out of the shower - I gave you time to leave!"

"I was drying my hair."

"You were waiting for me."

"I was not, I just wanted to talk!"

"Talk! You wanted to talk to hot Russian you invited to your room at night?"

"Yes!"

"You were on your knees in five seconds!"

"You kissed me!"

[snowsmoked]

Shane notices that Ilya always has to be doing something. At first, he thinks its sweet, attentive.

"Is your blanket warm enough? I'll go get another one."

"I will carry plates, go sit."

"Practice is optional for players, Shane, not captain."

And, look, Shane isn't one to lay about. He's up for morning runs, he attends almost every optional practice, he's meticulous about his work out routines. He's a top athlete and so is Ilya, they both work incredibly hard to stay at the top. Still, Shane doesn't have a problem with a lazy afternoon reading in bed, or a free weekend spent at his cottage, or a summer relaxing.

He notices that sometimes Ilya will startle, just a little bit, if Shane walks into the room when he's laying on the couch, scrolling through his phone. If Shane makes even the slightest request, Ilya is jumping to get it done there and then. He's the first one at practice and the last one to leave.

He will take naps with Shane, but he's always up before Shane, working out in the gym, doing their monthly calendar, adding things Shane likes to their shopping list that he wouldn't add, etc.

"Just sit with me," Shane catches Ilya's arm on his latest trip to the kitchen."

"I know, I will," Ilya covers his hand. "I just want to wipe down counters before your parents get here."

"They won't care," Shane scrunches up his face. "They won't even notice. Come sit down."

"Okay," Ilya says, but looks a little torn. "We are suppose to be hosting, not lazing around."

"Ilya," Shane sat up more. "You cleaned the whole house like twice today. I cooked. We aren't lazing around."

"Yes, I know, but..."

"Ilya, you aren't lazy," Shane said directly. He doesn't know exactly why that word seems difficult for Ilya, but he has his suspicions. "And even if you were lazy sometimes, I wouldn't care. I would like it, probably."

Ilya softened. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Shane tugs him and Ilya finally lets himself be pulled into Shane's lap. "Just come be lazy with me."

"Hm," Ilya adjusts himself to better snuggle into his boyfriend. "That does not sound so bad."

[snowsmoked]

David Hollander is definitely the type of man to randomly put on a song and pull his wife up to dance with him, especially if she’s stressing about something, or worrying, or upset, or just because. She will usually lightly protest, honey, I need to finish this email, but she’ll happily go along nonetheless.

David does it for the first time in front of Ilya when the boys are visiting and Shane and Yuna are planning (arguing) about something new brand deal.

He puts a song on the record player (Yuna has given up teaching him the Alexa), and he takes Yuna’s hand without a word. She protests that they need to plan out these contract terms and how his son is being difficult about it.

Shane starts to protest at that, but doesn’t get far until Ilya pulls him up to dance, too. A very embarrassed Shane goes willingly. He’s watched his father do this for years but never thought he would be pulled up to dance one day. From the fond looks from his parents, they probably didn’t either.

Shane meets Ilya’s smile with a half-hearted glare, but can’t deny swaying to the music in his boyfriend’s arms feels much better than stressing about a brand deal. Ilya makes a note to ask David for anymore tips and tricks.

[snowsmoked]

Shane is spoiled. He knows that, his parents know that, his teachers, teammates, coaches, etc. He’s not blind to it. He would try in highschool but he couldn’t bring himself to care about algebra when his backhand needed work and he was preparing for international championships. Since he was first scouted for top youth teams at 10 and he started his first development camp, he knew he was headed to the NHL. His teachers had no problem passing papers that shouldn’t have passed, or folding to the weight of his mother’s emails when she demanded his homework be excused. Ms. Hammerson used to say, just remember little old us when you’re famous, dear and stamp an A on his lackluster book report. He’s an only child, an athletic prodigy, and the only grandchild on both sides of his family. Since he was 18, he’s been rich. Even before that, his family was comfortably middle class. He’s had twice weekly house cleaners, private nutritionists, prep chefs, personal trainors, agents, personal shoppers, stylists, wealth managers, accountants, his mother acting as conductor to everything, and so many more advantages. He’s used to hearing whatever you need, Shane. Don’t worry about it, Shane. Focus on the game, Shane, don’t worry about this. So yes, Shane is very spoiled. No is not a word he hears very often. 

“No.” 

They were sitting on his parent’s couch towards the end of their first summer in the cottage. Yuna and David were cooking and Shane was in the middle of watching a hockey game before Ilya, after a sideways glance, plucked up the remote and switched channels. 

Shane blinks. “Give me the remote, Ilya.” 

“Hm,” Ilya said, who is just as spoiled, but did grow up with an older brother. “Nope.” 

“I was watching that game.”

“Is old recording,” Ilya said, flipping through channels without looking over. “It is my turn now.”

“Your turn?” Shane said. “This is my parent’s house. Give it.”

“Your parents house, my turn.”

Shane made to grab the remote and then Ilya did the unthinkable. 

He yanked his hand up, away from Shane. “Go away, Hollander, I’m watching Ancient Aliens."

“Ilya.”

“Shane.” 

That’s when Shane reached again and Ilya - Ilya flicked him. 

“You - you!” And Shane pounced. 

“Give me the remote!” 

“Nyet!” 

“You’re being a child!”

“You are not respecting turns!” 

“Turn it back!” 

The wrestled - Ilya only had one hand to fight with since the other was holding the remote far away from Shane’s grabby hands. Of course, neither one was using their full strength and Shane’s playful smile betrayed his actions. At one point, he tucked the remote under his chest and curled around it, but that led to Shane rolling them both off the couch. Now on the rug, Shane had just put hands on the edge of the remote when they heard a sharp - 

“Boys!” 

They both whipped their heads around to see a wide-eyed Yuna taking in the messed up couch, blankets strewn around, cushions everywhere, her son and his boyfriend tangled together on the rug, Shane's fingers brushing the remote Ilya was holding away from him.

Ilya, having more experience, immediately took the opportunity. “Yuna! Shane is not letting me have turn.” 

“Shane,” her eyes zeroed in on Shane and narrowed. “Ilya is our guest.”

“But! Ilya isn’t a guest, he’s my boyfriend.”

“And he’s my guest. Honestly, you two.” 

“I will clean pillows, Yuna,” Illya suggested sweetly. 

“Thank you, honey.”

“But!”

“It would be nice for you to offer to clean sometimes, Shane,” Yuna uncrossed her arms. 

“Yeah, Shane,” Illya smirked and it filled Shane with an unreasonable amount of rage. 

“Dinner is almost ready,” Yuna said. “Shane, come help me.”

“But mom!” 

Yuna turned to go back into the kitchen, catching her husband’s amused glance. 

As Shane trudged into the kitchen, David told Yuna, “we always wondered what two would be like.”

“Mh,” Yuna said quietly as David wrapped an arm around her. “I haven’t seen Shane play like that for a long time.” 

[snowsmoked]

Like everything in his life, Shane is very pragmatic about sex.

First it’s planning their meet-ups months ahead. Shane has time to plan his outfit, do a pre-workout, and complete his prep routine. When he’s hosting, the temperature is perfectly set, lights low, fresh towels set out on the counters. When Ilya’s hosting or a hotel, he builds in time to do everything he needs beforehand.

Once they’re married, that changes. Living together means things can be a lot more spontaneous (which he loves) but he also likes to know The Plan™️.

And once they’re married, Shane has no problem asking for what he wants so he can plan out his day and routine. It’s not particularly sexy, but he guesses that’s married life.

“Ilya?”

“Hm?”

“Do you want to eat me out after the Canada match tonight?”

They had both been rooting for Canada at the world cup - Ilya even got them jerseys.

Ilya chokes and Shane frowns at him. “You okay?”

“I - just - what?”

“Well I’m going to do a full shower after my physio session with Amelia - I should be done by the time the Canada game starts. Oh - and I meant to ask if you liked those new frozen meals Lyn brought over. They’re a new brand.”

“I - yes, please Shane if I ever don’t want to eat you out, I have been replaced by aliens.”

“Okay, cool. And the meals?”

“Gross,” Ilya said. “But normal gross.”

~*~*~*~

“Ilya?”

“What?”

“Can we fuck on the couch tonight? With the fire going?”

Ilya grit his teeth and for a second Shane thought he would say no.

“Of course.”

“Maybe around 8? I bought 2 hour logs and the fire needs to be completely out by bedtime.”

“Okay.”

~*~*~*~

“Ilya!”

“Shane?”

“Look at your messages! I want to try that position. Maybe after we get back from our afternoon skate?”

~*~*~*~

“Ilya?” Shane asked through his cars bluetooth. Ilya was cooking and keeping him company on the phone as he drove back from an optometrist appointment. Much to his husband’s (fake) disappointment, his slight nearsightedness still didn’t need glasses for anything besides reading comfortably.

“Hm?”

“Did my package get delivered?”

“A package did. I put it on side table for you.”

“Can you go ahead and open it? I wasn’t sure what size to get so I got a few options. I want to try them this weekend - maybe Saturday? If they don’t fit, I’ll need to do another order tonight for 3 day shipping.”

He heard Ilya take a deep breath. He hated to give him another thing to do on top of making dinner, but he wanted to make sure they had the right sizes before they wanted to use them.

~*~*~*~

“Hey Ilya?” Shane said quietly, so the other people at the stuffy fundraiser couldn’t hear.

“Yes?” Ilya, his hand coming up to run through the back of Shane’s hair.

“I’m exhausted. Can we do shower blowjobs when we get home tonight?”

Ilya hand stuttered in his hair. Shane hated to disappoint him but he was too tired for his prep routine, his post routine, and cleaning the sheets. Or even getting up for Ilya to do it. Shower blowjobs had excellent clean up time and he could fall right into bed afterwards.

“That sounds perfect,” Ilya said, a little roughly.

~*~*~*~

Shane was going to kill him. Murder him. Like a sniper - out of the blue, at any given moment, Shane might call out to him all softly and then ask for hottest sex imaginable (all sex with Shane) AND THEN plan it for later, leaving Ilya incredibly worked up.

The worst part was Shane did not even know he did this to him - for Shane, it was just planning - run at 6, breakfast at 8:15, workout at 8:30, shower at 10, fuck husband at 10:45, off ice training at 12:15, etc. It drove Ilya insane.

But Ilya didn’t want to mess it up by acting on the extreme horniness he felt every time his husband causally planned out mind blowing sex. He knew routine was good for Shane’s brain and it would mess the routine up if Shane asked to pencil in a blowjob at 3:15pm and Ilya dropped to his knees right then. So he had to wait and wait until the clocked ticked down for their scheduled appointment. He loved it.