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@earlgrey-confusion
Hi! I’m Lou and this is a little corner for Heated Rivalry fics and reblogs!
I love love love receiving asks about headcanons, my fics, random thoughts <3 don’t be shy!
@sadgattohour on main tumblr || teamoonster on ao3
My fics:
You did this to me [Hollanov smut with mpreg Shane]
Shall we look at the moon, my little loon [Hollanov’s kid asks about her other grandparents]
Post-outing and post- honeymoon pre-season Hollanov step out and are photographed for the first time in Ottawa featuring Shane— white t-shirt pre-season muscles bulging gray sweatpants dick outline healthy yes he's wearing his reeboks Mom and Ilya— decked out in TIGht Adidas track pants with the snaps black tank top clinging to that waist with Anya on a bedazzled leash— YES they're holding hands rings glinting in the golden hour YES they have their dog at this outside restaurant seating YES they're going to win this season YES Shane will have dessert and will give the first bite to his husband YES they're dropping a black card in the bill YES they're kissing each other's hands at the table and in a way it's kind of like Diana in her revenge dress except their best revenge is just living their best fucking life TOGETHER
shane's big ass smile when ilya squeezes his tit and calls him a pervert is very important to who #myshane is
I know we joke about it all the time but hotel room walls are...GENUINELY very thin. The bit in the HR novel where Shane and Ilya fuck in the shower so that the water drowns out the sounds actually rang as extremely accurate to me. Like, the lack of boundaries that must exist not just for the Centaurs but for ANYBODY who spends a significant amount of time sharing hotel room walls with their teammates is just unbelievable.
Like, on any given roadie the people sharing walls with the Hollanovs can expect to overhear:
- One side of phone calls between Shane and his mother where every third word is FUCK and Shane's voice gets higher the more he works himself up about whatever league drama is pissing him off that week
- Ilya yelling in Russian (Non sex reasons) (He and Svetlana are talking about Matheson in Colorado. Again.)
- Ilya gets hay fever real bad in Seattle and spends an entire night sneezing at EAR SPLITTING volume, each sneeze followed by a, "AHH!" from Shane as he is startled awake. Again.
- The Christmas wish lists of every Pike child and how they're going to be divvy'd up for the year. This conversation takes place in September.
- "I'm telling you, the penalty kill could be a work of fucking art if Haas--oh fuck, right there, don't stop--"
- As stated before, an objectively obnoxious amount of showering is happening. At one point LaPointe turns to Bood and says something to the effect of, "Crazy that Hollander takes TWO showers after every game, I guess he really is superstitious," and Bood just. Chooses not to engage.
- A thunderous and almighty BANG. This is the sound of Ilya's suitcase hitting the floor after it inevitably slides off the bed.
- "Shaaaaane, look at the livestream from the dog hotel--look at how cute! She is so sleepy, she's holding her banana like a baaaaby--"
- Vin Diesel's voice, unimaginably loud, at one AM
- Russian Yelling (Non sex reasons) (Sasha did something stupid)
- "Unh unh unh UNH UNH UNH--" (Squeak. Squeak.)
- Celtics game. Twenty minutes beforehand: "Fuck, Shane, how do I get ESPN on the stupid--Roku stick thing--"
- "Okay, look, your dad played the word veer--is not real word, right? Like, deer with a V? It's real? Shane, we can't let your dad win--no, it's not cheating, he gets Yuna's help--"
- Stuff about Rose Landry's upcoming film that they should probably all sign NDAs for even thinking about.
- Russian Yelling (Sex reasons. Probably. It sounds...ardent.)
- One time, for an entire night, silence. The day immediately preceeding this night and the morning immediately after are best left unspoken about.
- The sound of Shane's fuckass electric toothbrush for WAY too long. Seriously man it cannot be healthy to brush your teeth for that lo--oh. Got it. Okay. Where are my earbuds.
- "I mean, it's not like I'm sixteen anymore, right? It's just that sometimes I think she looks at me and sees a fucking kid still, and I get it, I get it--and fuck, babe, I know it's not fair to feel this way, she's the only mom I'll ever have, and you don't even--ugh--"
- "I'm so terribly sorry the hotel misplaced your bags, Mister Rozanov. If there's any way that we can...make it up to you..." [Giggle. Kissing sound. Kissing sound. Moan.]
- Banging on the wall and, "KEEP IT DOWN, ROOK," the one. Singular. Time. That Holmberg manages to pull on their West Coast roadie. Which may or may not be the beginning of his villain origin story.
“cutie” - @hollanovmicrofic -wc: 369 (nice)
“ah, this one is good.” ilya nods appraisingly above him.
“let me see.” shane tipped his head back to look up at his husband from his spot on the floor.
“what a little cutie you were.” he turns the photo around so shane can see it. he’s not surprised to see it’s a shot from his third birthday. red frosting (which had been a very bad choice) all over his face, eyes wide open, and mouth in a deep scowl. it’s been a long running joke- the kind that’s only a joke because it’s funny and otherwise is just a true observation about life- that shane didn’t smile before the age of five. at least not that a camera ever successfully captured. it’s because of this that shane’s toddler years are ilya’s favorites.
“were?” shane repeats back to him with that sort of doe eyed look he’s mastered over years of practice.
“are, моя любовь,” he amends, sinking a hand into shane’s hair. shane turns to the right and presses a kiss to the side of ilya’s knee in return, “i hope our rabbit gets your good looks.”
shane stills at that, then he frowns. there are very few photos of ilya before the age of seventeen. two, to be exact, that shane has seen. in one, he’s a crying infant in a white flowy gown, freshly baptized and propped up for the camera by the strong arm of his otherwise not pictured godfather sergei vetrov. in the other, he’s a ten year old, slightly grainy face in middle of a large mass of similarly grainy faces on his youth hockey team. can you blame shane for subconsciously imagining that their baby would turn out to be a mini-ilya? someone who, if you squinted at their photograph, could be mistaken for the man himself?
shane rolls over from criss-cross to a kneeling position, now facing the couch and the man lounging on it.
“don’t listen to him, okay?” he stage-whispers to the swell of ilya’s second trimester baby bump, “you are going to look just like your papa. you’ll have a mole at the very least.”
“already undermining my parental authority hollander? this is not a good sign.”
like im a big dick Ilya truther . a yuna hollander defender . ilyapreg champion . it's hard work but someone has to do it #martyr
ilya and shane updating their will and ilya AGONISING over which of the kids will get his cross before eventually deciding that actually maybe that particular heartache can be buried with him . they have plenty of heirlooms and things to pass on to their daughters and this particular albatross doesn't need to be one of them
begging on my hands and knees for any ilyapreg fic recs you might have 🤲🏼
sorry that this took me a minute!!!! here's a few of them that are sexy and/or sweet!
Rent-Free Leech- Shane fucks Ilya into labor, and then they finally get to meet their baby boy.
In Your Dreams - Ilya has a sex dream while pregnant. He wakes Shane up and they reenact it.
The Sex-Ond Trimester- Ilya's second trimester is just one big fuckfest.
A Russian Secret - A really beautiful piece written with Ilya as a trans man struggling with what that means in regards to him being pregnant with his and Shane's child.
Trust I Seek and I Find in You - Being pregnant doesn't stop Ilya from having his way with Shane.
thanks for the ask, i love recommending fics to people!!!!!
one time ilya gets hit and laid out on the ice, yeah it looks bad, yeah the media is claiming his career is over, but it turns out to be little more than a dislocated knee and a concussion. shane is with him in the hospital when marly comes to see him (they were playing boston), shane leaves to grab some food, he’s been worried to death over ilya and now has to deal with the general public thinking he’s in a coma for some reason, and marly doesn’t hesitate when ilya asks where his phone is, finding it next to shane’s bag on a chair, and gives it to him.
shane gets a very stern call from yuna when ilya posts a shaky picture of him holding up a peace sign in the hospital bed with the caption “i livd bitches”
has anyone done this yet
Re: pets and the hollanders, Yuna gives me major bird owner vibes, just a massive bird that loves sitting on her shoulder and swearing at bad hockey calls with her. They live so long that it could've even have been her parents (sitting on her fathrr's shoulder, swearing at hockey together), just imagine Yuna's entire life being narrated by a multilingual bird, no wonder she's so good at negotiation, lol. (A bird that will probably be inherited again one day, sorry Ilya, that bird will live forever).
her name is miko.
yuna's dad bought her for her mom after they moved to canada because she got lonely at home after they first arrived because they were so far from family, and it is an extremely husband move to be like, "sad? i know what will fix this. giant loud bird. PERFECT."
yuna's mom did indeed love miko, and yuna bonded with miko after her mom's death because it felt like she had someone to grieve with who missed her like she did (i the writer just teared up thinking about that oh my god). when yuna moved out, miko went with her because miko got along with yuna's dad but in the spirit of "we share a house, so i'll tolerate you" lmao. yuna knew that david was the one for her when she brought him back to her place for the first time and he immediately greeted miko like a person.
shane experiences sibling-like tension with miko lmao.
in a lot of ways, miko is like his older sister (sits with them at family meals, HAS come on vacation with them before, has to be greeted in the morning or his mom gets mad at him and also miko yells) except she is FUCKING LOUD. she tragically knows his name because yuna taught it to her after bringing shane home and introducing them (how could you condemn him like this, mom? she knows like twenty words and one of them HAD to be his name??? what the FUCK??), so the SECOND miko sees him or hears him or just thinks he's in the general vicinity, you are hearing "SHANE! SHANE! SHANE!" loud enough that the fucking NEIGHBORS know when there has been a Shane Spotting.
(also VERY salty from being told that miko's japanese is better than his. how is he losing to a BIRD.) (what do you MEAN her pronounciation is better.) (she has a BEAK.) (blue and gold macaws aren't even the clearest talkers when it comes to parrots, what do you MEAN miko is beating him?) (she only knows a few words and she's WINNING??) (just because she calls you yuna-chan doesn't mean she should get to WIN, mom.)
does miko understand hockey? doubtful. does she understand when yuna is mad and decide it's Time To Screm? YEP. not helped by yuna and david both egging her on with, "you tell 'em, miko!" (poor bb autistic shane with this LOUD ASS BIRD intruding on his sacred hockey time).
shane also denies it but he nurses a grudge to this fucking day about the time he was 15 and got miko out because she wouldn't stop Shane Screeching until he did but then stopped watching her for like. FIVE minutes getting ready to leave for a game.
ONLY TO COME OUT. TO THIS FUCKING BIRD. HAVING SYSTEMATICALLY UNWRAPPED ALL THE TAPE FROM AROUND HIS HOCKEY STICK.
SHE DID IT ON PURPOSE.
HE KNOWS IT.
SHE DID IT TO FUCK WITH HIM.
(not helping this is that miko has yuna's mom's laugh, which is nice because it means yuna still gets to hear it, but having to leave like RIGHT NOW only to have this bird fuck you over and then laugh in your face??? it is the closest shane has ever come to throwing hands with miko.)
he is just FURTHER pissed when miko takes a liking to ilya. he had to grow up with this annoying bird and now she's trying to STEAL HIS BOYFRIEND??? ridiculous.
they're birdsitting for david and yuna when they're on a cruise one summer, and miko rarely leaves ilya's shoulder the whole time. while ilya is shirtless!! he can SEE her claws digging in? but miko gets cuddles and to offer her opinions on what ilya is doing but shane can't snuggle against his shoulder on the couch because miko will start preening his hair, which is Annoying? ridiculous.
he wakes up one morning to find them showering together.
shane is LIVID.
*teenaged shane home alone voice while this loud ass bird is squawking* "shut the fuck UP, miko"
*miko, immediately playing word association* "UP MIKO! STEP UP MIKO! STEP UP MIKO! UP! STEP UP MIKO!"
"NO"
*now mad she's been baited and switched for what appeared to be an offer of out of cage time* "STEP UP MIKO!"
"NO. FUCK OFF."
"SHANE. SHANE. SHANE. SHANE. SHANE. SHA-"
an hour later yuna and david get home to a visibly furious shane sulking on the couch and throwing miko's ball for her so she can chase it because he lost a battle of wills to a bird.
(again)
ilya and shane housesitting for yuna and david one weekend (because it's just easier for miko to stay where she is) and getting a little hot and heavy in the guest room and thus missing the tap tap tap tap tap of little birdy feet on the hardwood until ilya groans out "shane" and immediately sets off a "SHANE SHANE SHANE SHANE SHANE" that makes them slam their heads together startling at their sudden chaperone making herself known
leave room for jesus miko
This is so fucking good oh my god. Yes. I’m all in for Miko.
the sweet little shin kiss is so dear to me
I'm only a day late which means, by my standards, that I'm perfectly on time to wish them a happy anniversary! ❤️
A compilation of inherently BOY things I think Ilya does during his first time at the cottage that fundamentally ruin his cool-guy image for Shane in the most endearing way possible:
- Ilya’s first sunburn, which is Very Bad. His are all cheeks all flushed and he’s walking funny and hissing through his teeth as he pushes on the reddened skin as it turns yellow. He yelps any time Shane tries to touch it, which is all the time because it’s funny and also because he likes touching Ilya.
- Shane catches a little sunfish off the end of the dock and puts it in a bucket full of water and Ilya sits in a Slavic squat in front of that bucket for hours on the dock watching the fish swim around. He’s sticking his hand in there to try and touch it and making embarrassing noises and jerking his hand away when he does manage to brush a finger along the scales. Until Shane tells him it needs to be released at some point and then Ilya is insisting on being the one to do it.
- Utterly failing at water skiing, with Shane trying to give tips while David drives the boat. Full on face of water, sputtering eating-shit so many times but insisting on going again, because Shane can do it so Ilya will do it too.
- Not tying up his shorts tight enough the first time David takes them tubing (despite his calm demeanour, once David has a tube behind his boat he drives like a maniac) and Ilya almost loses his shorts, white booty out. Shane can’t help but smack his ass and cackle as Ilya tries desperately to hold onto the tube handle with one hand and his shorts (that are around his knees) with the other while they continue to fly across the water.
- Ilya trying to dive off the dock in a life jacket because Shane told him it was impossible and now of course he has to try.
- Ilya in a life jacket in general.
- Ilya with a mosquito bite. Itching itching itching while Shane slaps at his hands and tells him to stop. It’s gets all red and raised bump, and Ilya’s kind of self conscious but he still can’t stop scratching and cursing mosquitos as he does. But then Shane’s pressing a careful thumbnail into an X over the bite and Ilya’s fascinated by another way he can be close to Shane.
- Ilya on the dock, on his stomach watching a spider eat a bug in its web for an undetermined amount of time. He’s narrating for Shane with a slightly disgusted but fascinated tinge to his voice who is suntanning beside him, sunglasses on.
- Ilya in the marsh trying to catch a frog after David explains how Shane used to do it all the time. He’s finally got one, calling Shane’s name with so much excitement and a frog cupped between his hands. Of course it’s the largest fugliest frog in the marsh so then they’re both crouched down, staring into Ilya cupped palms arguing about whether or not the frog is cute (Ilya says it is, Shane says it’s ugly)
- Ilya with a leech from the marsh stuck onto his ankle. He’s actually Losing His Shit about this one. freaky, disgusting, Canadian blood sucker. Why the fuck would they even have these things in the lake. Shane has to pull it off. Obviously he lets Ilya chase him around the property throwing his ankle towards Shane screaming “get it off, Shane! Get it off!” before he has Ilya sit on a sun chair and performs leech surgery on his ankle while Ilya whimpers (non-sexily).
Sincerely, someone who grew up with a Canadian family cottage.
The Long Game version here!!!
“amour” - @hollanovmicrofic - wc: 685
*TW/CW prescription drug use, withdrawal symptoms (nothing too bad, ilya just misses a dose of his ssnri and feels like shit for a little while).
when shane wakes up, he's greeted by the distinct sheen of cold sweat. it stripes across his bare abdomen where ilya's arm clings on to him, making their skin stick together like velcro. the rest of ilya- save for a mop of curls and the very tip of his nose- is covered, curled up in a ball of gray fleece.
"fuck." shane matters, trying to carefully extract himself from under ilya's arm. just touching his wrist ignites a full body shiver through him. shane freezes but thankfully ilya to retracts his arm into his blanket cacoon instead of tightening his grip.
he knows what this is. it doesn't happen often, not anymore. ilya has gotten so much better at taking care of himself, truly he has, but when things get too busy and hyper focused like they do right before playoff season it's easy to let routines slip. shane pads to the kitchen. he pours a glass of water first, then he retrieves a box of sesame seed crackers (known for their bland and boringness). finally he locates the culprit of the problem, a weekly pill organizer with the previous day's dose still sitting there untouched.
when he returns to their room, ilya is awake, no longer curled in a ball but instead splayed out flat, the blankets kicked off him, his eyes open wide and blinking.
"hey." shane sits down on his side of the bed, setting down the box of crackers and water on the nightstand nearest him.
ilya rolls his head towards him and the movement seems heavy. that's how ilya described it once, when he's in withdrawal his brain gets too heavy inside his skull with all the building pressure. shane can see the moment he recognizes the pills in shane's hand. his face crumples up like a piece of paper, pressing his eyes shut.
"я чертов идиот.*"
"no, none of that, come on," shane nudges his shoulder with his knee, "sit up so you can take these."
he does as shane says, heaving himself upward against the headboard, chewing his mandatory so-you-don't-throw-up cracker and then swallowing his meds with a sip of water. he looks fucking exhausted. getting himself comfy once again, propped up on a two stack of pillows, shane guides ilya's head back to his chest.
"practice." ilya protests.
"optional practice," shane counters, beginning to card his fingers through ilya's hair to try to seperate out some of the matted curls, "i already texted bood that we aren't coming."
shane can feel the hot tears begin to pool where ilya's face is smushed against his skin.
"i'm sorry."
"just sleep baby, you'll feel better in a few hours."
and he does. the three hours between six and nine am give his brain enough time to balance its serotonin and norepinephrine. shane has his reading glasses on and his phone in hand, scrolling through the oblivion that is the group chat between him, rose and miles. he's not surprised when ilya's hand suddenly reaches up and snatches it away from him, tossing his phone towards the foot of the bed.
"asshole." he laughs softly.
"morning." ilya props his chin up on shane's sternum.
"good morning." shane smiles. ilya's still a little pale but his eyes are bright and his cold sweat broke about an hour ago, "you have any fun dreams while you were all fucked up?"
"ugggggghhhhhh," ilya groans but his face lights up that way it does when he has a good story to tell "we were lost in boston airport and you would only speak stupid canadian-french to me. i say shane we will miss our flight! speak english! and you say oui, je m'appelle shane.* i wanted to kill you."
"aww, je que tu aimes secrètement mon français.*"
"no, bad." ilya scowls, "no more of that." he tries to grabs shane's lips to pinch his mouth shut but shane slaps his hands away at every turn, shoving him off.
"mon amour." shane teases and ilya is wrestling him in earnest now, trying to headlock him.
"shane stop, i will have devastating mental health episode."
—
*i’m a fucking idiot.
*yes, my name is shane.
*aw, i know you secretly love my french.
Ok walk with me?
Shane is accidentally fuck drunk on the plane home with all the cens post a swing of away matches.
Like it’s not really Shane and Ilya’s fault. Not really. Ilya wakes up before Shane’s alarm, and Shane is sprawled on his tummy asleep underneath ilya, who is half laid over him, his arm around Shane’s waist and face smushed into Shane’s warm shoulder. They’d won last night and the two games before that and the heavy thrill of it was settling into Ilya’s veins, how right this year felt, how good it felt being on the same team as Shane, seeing this thing all start to work.
Anyway- blah blah blah, Ilya is kissing up over the back of Shane’s neck, his short hairline, over his ears and shoulders, lazy nuzzles of his nose because they have time. It’s just early light in the room and Shane’s alarm hasn’t gone off yet, meaning they have time. They’d fucked last night, frantic and hot against the door of the hotel, still half sweaty from rushed showers at the rink. Adrenaline thundering through the pair of them. It had been desperate and rushed, spit instead of lube and grabbing hands.
They’d showered after and curled up in bed and kissed sweet and slow and passed out hard. And now, now Ilya wants him again, needs him again, dizzy proud of Shane, dizzy happy of waking up to his pretty boy in his bed. His husband, his teammate. Fuck it makes Ilya feel crazy. Shane wakes up to the lube slick of Ilya’s fingers petting over his hole, sighing happily and rolling his hips back once, twice. “Mmm sore” Shane exhales and Ilya hums, presses his nose behind Shane’s ear, and Ilya’s fingers are soft and sweet and he’s making a sad little sound. “Sorry sweetheart” he exhales, knowing they’d been rough last night. “Let’s kiss is all better baby” Ilya had used his mouth on Shane’s dripping wet with saliva and slow, made him cum like that and then got him open on his fingers because Shane had softly whimpered and asked for “more please” then they’d snoozed Shane’s alarm a few times because then they’d both wanted Ilya’s cock inside him after that. They fucked deep, slow and heavy.
Ilya had been laid over Shane’s body, pressed skin to shin, Ilya’s neck tucked into Shane’s neck, kissing and licking and nuzzling into the soft skin. Ilya’s arms had been wrapped around Shane, one around his chest the other under his head, Shane’s face in the crook of his elbow, panting wet and hot into the skin.
His fifth thrust inside Shane had whimpered, turned his face into Ilya’s bicep and kissed at the warm skin and sighed “can still feel you from last night, feels good. Feels, like a lot, you already feel big in the morning but it’s even more” he’d whispered, soft and true and Ilya had gripped his face and licked into his mouth, kissed him hot and needy and then told him him how fucking good he felt, how good he was, his boy. And it’s so dizzy good like that, in the dark quiet early morning of the hotel room, under thick soft hotel bedding, just the pair of them whispers and heavy touches, slick messy kisses. Then Shane’s sucking Ilya’s fingers and they are moving slow, sore from the night before, the pleasure is stretched out and lazy and hot and good good good.
Shane gets fuzzy, so fucking hard and so fucking open and full of Ilya and the sheets are so soft and feel so nice under his cheek, and Ilya is holding him so tight and is so big over him and the ache of his muscles from last night feels sore and good and he just kinda softly slips into another space, that warm lightheaded fuzz that Ilya can send him into. He’s sucking on Ilya’s tongue, his fingers, nuzzling into Ilya’s face and then he’s just he only exists in the hot aching place he and Ilya connect, he needs. He needs. They come with whimpering I love yous, Ilya’s hand gripping Shane’s jaw, face with such force it makes his cheeks smush and Shane’s lashes flutter at the force of his orgasm. Shane nuzzles and kisses and mouths at Ilya’s forearm as Ilya cums all over his back, his ass.
Ilya doesn’t realise till Shane is so far gone until he reached down to ease himself out and Shane whines, whines, reaches back and grips at Ilya’s body, “stay” he exhales, and Ilya is leaning back down over him, finding Shane’s face and his palm and tilting him up to his gaze and Shane’s eyes are half lidded and cheeks red and he’s leaning in to try and find Ilya’s mouth like it’s the only thing that exists.
“Ohhh bunny” Ilya cooes, and kisses over Shane’s flushed cheeks, knocks their noses other. “You are gone yes?” Ilya asks, low voice, and Shane just turns his face further into Ilya’s, like he’s trying to burrow into his skin.
“Was goooood” Shane exhales, and his and hand goes up into Ilya’s curls, tugging and fidgeting with them. Ilya can’t help but beam, and he’s kissing all over Shane’s face, arm warm around him to keep him close.
Ilya smooths his hand down to grip at Shane’s ass, cooing a low “always good, you’re always good” and then- then Ilya’s alarm goes off which fuck. Means they have like half an hour to be downstairs ready to go- and Shane just huffs and rubs his face into Ilya’s neck and says “turn it off” and Ilya lets out a low laugh and then ten seconds later he’s pulling back- “oh fuck Ilya. We’ve gotta go” he says, wide eyed and Ilya sucks his teeth and rubs his thumb over Shane’s cheek and she’s like “da bunny, we do, I’m sorry- we got. Hm carried away” Ilya says low, kisses Shane’s nose and chin and squeezes him to his chest with a firm cuddle.
“we need to go, but is okay” Ilya reassured him and it is. Ilya gets Shane into the shower and kisses him deep till Shane’s toes curl against the tiles and then he’s slipped out to let Shane finish in the shower while quickly packs them up- gets them clothes, raids the mini bar for an apple juice. He makes Shane sip at the juice and Ilya gets them dressed, loose sweats, a hoodie of Ilya’s that’s too big for either of them pulled onto Shane, hood up over his wet hair. He’s more himself by the time they get out of the room, but it’s rushed and not how Ilya likes, he likes to kiss Shane back to being warm eyed and snarky and calling Ilya an asshole. Likes to touch and hold him close, tease him and maybe make him cum again, make him squirm like it’s too much. Then bring him back with a bath and kisses and talking.
Shane looks spacey, likes he’s come off three hard shifts on the ice, cheeks still flushed and eyes so dark and long slow blinks. Loose limbed and unsteady.
Shane sinks into Ilya’s side in the lift, yawning heavily and he’s pressing his face to Ilya’s throat and his hand is shoving into Ilya’s pocket. Ilya puts a hand up under his sweatshirt and rubs at Shane’s warm hip, lower back.
They get to the lobby just as the coach is pulling up outside to take them to the airport. The boy don’t pay them much mind, soft mutters of “cap” “hollzy” “morning” early enough for most of the team to be half asleep or hungover still.
On the short ride to the hotel Shane falls asleep curled into Ilya’s side, hood still up, his hand under Ilya’s sweatshirt, resting on the low of his stomach, pink finger tucked into the waistband of Ilya’s sweats. Fabric covered the quiet needy affection. Ilya’s hand rubs up and down Shane’s back, squeezes the back of his neck when he fusses.
It’s only once they get to the airport that the guys realise Shane is off. “Hollzy you get hit last night” Bood asks, rubs the top of his head in passing as they settle into seats by the gate. Shane shakes his head, blinks heavy and says “oh um no. Just uh feel a bit” Shane shrugs and waves his hand and Bood nods, starts talking about his sister having the flu and these immunity supplements he thinks are “bomb”. Ilya pulls Shane’s leg over his once they are sat, tugs him to rest his head on his shoulder.
Troy offers Shane like six different snacks he keeps producing from his bag. Shane’s just all slow shakes of his head and he only accepts the coffee Ilya had asked bood to get for him. Shane smiles against the cup when it’s a Mocca, chocolate sweet and heavy and comforting on his tongues. Keeps one hand in Ilyas as they sit together, heavy and all yawns. Hass and Hayes both talk about how “cute” they look, cuddled up- far more than their usual affection. It’s sweet Ilya thinks, that the boys notice the change in Shane but Ilya feels like a frustrated guard dog, protective of this soft lovely Shane that is only his. Ilya aches to kiss him, to draw love hearts with his fingertips over Shane’s hips till he gets too shiver and shoves his hands away. To feed him grapes and oranges by hand and have a far too long shower and curl up in bed together again, maybe doze a while.
When they finally get on the plane, Ilya cant help himself, pushes up the arm between the seats as soon as he can and pulls Shane into his chest. Shane doesn’t even try to protest, shoves his face into the warm skin between Ilya’s shoulder and jaw, with a weighted exhale. “Baby” Shane whispers and Ilya nods, nods, tucks a hand to Shane’s cheek, under the fabric of his hoodie and his fingers find his earlobe to rub rub at it. “I know” Ilya mutters, squeezes Shane in a warm hard hug. “I know, you did good” he praises, honest, because Shane had done good, so good getting here. Ilya rubs his cheek against the top of Shane’s head. The fabric of the hood soft.
“Everyone get to see you so pretty, lucky them, but now you’re just for me” Ilya grumbles, smooths his hand from the back of shanes head to the low of his back over and over, until Shane goes heavy, asleep in Ilya’s arms.
