Ilya sends Shane a dildo molded after his own cock during their hookup era with a note saying "something to get you through these lonely months" with a winky face on the end. Shane is mad at first followed quickly by embarrassment he hides it quickly in his bedside drawer telling himself that he'll throw it away eventually, only he never does and one night while he's on a ilya rozanov youtube rabbit hole he feels himself getting worked up, he's not even conscious of his hand gripping his cock through his boxers until he feels the moisture leaking though the fabric. the video he's stuck on is rozanov's hardest hits compilation, the camera zoomed in on ilyas grinning face, unfazed by the blood between his teeth as he skates over to the penalty box. When he sits, he takes off his helmet, his cheeks flushed, the sweat making his curls stick to his forehead, he squirks his gatorade bottle into his mouth, swishing the water around before spitting it out. Shane's breath hitches as Ilya makes eye contact with the camera and winks. Fuck. if he was here right now... Shane freezes as he realizes that, in a way, he almost does have ilya here.
It's not the same as the real thing, of course, but the size and the way the head hits his prostate just right. He could never tell rozanov that he actually used it or that he thought of him the entire time he was getting off.