Hurts So Good by sparrow30 - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 6,214)
“Oh yes, I’m sure doctors would say this is fine,” Rozanov waved his hands around more violently. “‘Yes, Hollander’ they would say, ‘take your broken ribs and go get fucked so hard you cannot move. Is no problem, no problem at all’.”
“Bruised, not broken,” Shane corrected, although he knew that wasn’t really the point. “And a little rough sex isn’t going to kill me. I’ll be back on the ice before the next Raiders game, it won’t affect the season if you’re like…worried about poor sportsmanship or whatever.”
“Fuck Hollander, I do not care about the season! I care about–” Rozanov cut himself off sharply.
Shane gets injured during a game, then tries to hide that fact from Ilya. It goes about as well as you might expect.
That Look in Your Eyes, Oh, the Joy it Brings by Anonymous - (Rating: Not Rated, Words: 1,877)
“Mr. Vance, is it?” Ilya extended his hand to greet the man who had stood when they walked in, “Sorry we’re late, my husband is terrible at keeping track of time.” He added a shrug and Shane rolled his eyes.
“Pleasure to meet you both.” Mr. Vance pulled his hand from Ilya, and reached for Shane’s hand, “Truly an honor.” When he turned to walk back to his seat, Ilya and Shane made eye contact, trying their best not to laugh, made even more difficult when they saw the screensaver on Mr. Vance’s computer was Shane’s former team, Montreal.
__
(Or, Shane and Ilya attend parent teacher conference and his teacher just happens to be a fan)
Glasses, an arched back and a love confession by m00nflowr1 - (Rating: Mature, Words: 3,523)
Before he was even able to fully process Shane's love confession, he looked up and choked on his saliva.
He couldn’t believe his eyes. His mouth wide open in disbelief.
Shane Hollander was on the floor.
Kneeling down.
Legs apart and slightly angled,
grinding the floor of the studio.
They made Shane Hollander grind the fucking floor of the studio.
And Shane looked ridiculously sexy doing it.
His beautiful slutty arched back on national TV for thousand of people to see and the fabric of his pants tightly hugging his full ass cheeks, looking extremely bitable.
Ilya gulped loudly, this would be the death of him.
Or Shane makes an appearance on the Late-Night-Show and his husband Ilya watches from the the hotel feeling all kinds of emotions and can’t believe his eyes when Shane shows his slutty arch on national TV, that should only be reserved to Ilya's eyes, at least if you ask Ilya. (completely inspired by Hudson's appearance on the Tonight's Show yesterday)
A Conversation by 077088 - (Rating: Mature, Words: 3,078)
“No matter how good you are with words, it’s inevitable that meaning is lost between your mind and someone else’s. Trying to communicate is like throwing a cup of water at a thirsty person’s face. It’s better than nothing, sure, and a teaspoon of water might hit their lips, but oh, God, there’s just so much water in the grass.” - Jacqueline Novak, How to Weep in Public: Feeble Offerings on Depression from One Who Knows
"M'not a slut, you know."
"Earlier, while you were... (fucking you open? Ilya thinks, but keeps it to himself) ...you called me that. But I'm not. Just like, to clarify."
Ilya does not know this word, clarify, though he's pretty sure he's heard it used before. Perhaps this is one of Shane's ill attempts at what people here call 'dirty talk'? (A word he dislikes, because what is dirty about making each other feel pleasure?)
"You sure sounded like slut moaning while I put in in, Hollander."
"I'm being vulnerable, you dickhead!"
Vulnerable, he knows, because it is used when there is a spot in playing formation that is weak, easy to attack. Shane is being weak for him, and he will not say anything that resembles an attack.
The Lumberjack Who Saved Me by larold - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2,913)
Except Shane just sighs, hanging his head shyly and rubs the back of his neck, “I…I didn’t mean to leave that out, you got here early last night, surprised me so I just threw it down there, god, this is uh, not how I imagined you would find out.”
“Find out what?” Ilya breathes.
“That I’ve been learning Russian since the first time I sucked you dick.” It’s unusually brave of Hollander, and Ilya can’t help feeling that the normal roles they play have been severely flipped.
~~~
Caught reading a trashy Russian romance novel, Shane and Ilya behave exactly as expected (they fuck about it)
In the Heat (Where You Lay) by f4nt45ywh0r3 - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2,583)
Shane forgets to take his heat suppressants before the Montreal v. Boston game. He goes to Ilya’s house after the game, and Ilya takes care of him.
Wanna wake up next to yours every day by smallbump - (Rating: Mature, Words: 3,149)
Montreal is playing Boston. Shane is thinking about Ilya, of course. Shane is touch starved, he's love staved and he wants Ilya for the whole night.
Dreams Mean (Nothing At All) by annanotherthing - (Rating: Not Rated, Words: 1,425)
Shane has a dream. Ilya gets possessive.
if these sheets were the states by slayswilde - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2,693)
Relationships between two alphas can be...complicated.
On the ice, Shane is as alpha as can be. Off the ice, though, that's a different story.
The Ghosts of Ilya Rozanov’s Fake Accounts by Hollanov_Addict - (Rating: Not Rated, Words: 2,382)
Yesterday while scrolling Twitter, I found a post from @R0ZAN0V saying: “one time when ilya pisses shane off, he gives an interview while wearing the glasses, knowing that ilya is watching him on the tv from home.” I saw that tweet, got to work, and started writing this fic.
ilya thousands of miles away from home, pisses Shane off over something silly. Shane retaliates by wearing those special glasses for his interview that night, knowing Ilya's watching him where he is, going absolutely feral.
So liya did what any rational, sleep-deprived, jealousy-fueled man would do, seeing his fiancé thirsted over across social media. He made fake accounts.
amandla
origamiaround
turnnoffyourmind
theartofmadeline
yousharknotpass
gummygunk
tangentwithtanner
