ilya making a beeline for shane during a team hangout and sees shane at the sofa with a few other boys. he comes over and shane sees him and switches the ginger ale to the other hand before holding his arms out for ilya to sit in his lap. ilya sits down and he kisses ilya’s shoulder gently while maintaining the conversation with others.
ilya joins in too but his heart is also racing because their intimacy is so casual now and shane is comfortable enough to hold him and kiss him in front of the team and he’s so happy and he never would’ve thought he could have this.
on one of the days ilya wakes up before shane in their shared beds, a few years down the line married, he holds his breath and watch his husband sleep, his hand lightly caressing his freckles and his plump lips and his eyes— is that a wrinkle on the corner of shane’s eyes?????? they’re faint, barely noticeable unless you’re staring at it 5mm away, but there’s faint wrinkles on shane’s eyes.
and ilya gets struck (again) about how time moves and leaves traces on the human body, how he got to grow up and now gets to grow old with shane, and be the person to notice the first trace of wrinkle on his face.
shane wakes up when he feels his shoulder a little damp, and was welcomed by a teary husband with fingers on his eyes, and is very confused. when ilya tells him what happened he smiles and says. “funny, mom used to tell me eye wrinkles represents a life filled with happiness and laughter. i guess you’re the perpetrator of my wrinkles.”
Shane shows up to an open practice with a black eye. Shane refuses to talk about it and Ilya keeps trying to hide a grin. Someone takes a picture of him and it goes viral.
The internet is divided: Is the black eye a sex injury or is Ilya an abuser?
The locker room is full of guys making sex jokes at them, to Ilya’s great amusement and Shane’s annoyance. Shane keeps hoping people will stop talking about it, but when the black eye only looks worse at the next game, it’s unavoidable. The media keeps asking cheekily about it and there are think pieces being written online about how Ilya is an abuser and here are all the signs of how he has been abusing Shane for years.
Shane gets his hands on the latter and is angrier at that than he is prideful. So, he drops the video.
The video is from a surveillance camera of the Rozanov-Hollander house’s backyard. Shane is crouched down playing tug of war with their dog Anya. He and Anya are both refusing to let go of rope. Suddenly, Anya drops it and Shane’s hands fling back toward his face and he smacks himself in the face with hands still around the toy. He drops to his back and cups his hands over his eyes.
Ilya runs into view, kneeling next to Shane and is seen as asking him what’s wrong. When Shane explains, Ilya falls over laughing on the grass and Shane throws the dog toy at his head. Ilya gets up and crouches down over Shane and gives him a kiss on the cheek right below his eye. The video ends as he’s leaning down while speaking to give him a kiss on his lips.
Shane captions the video: Word of advice. Let the dog win.
shane can’t help but let his eyes wander whenever ilya is naked. no matter how many years it’s been and how often he sees him naked his eyes just automatically travel down to ilya’s dick he just can’t help it. when ilya is getting dressed after a shower and shane is yapping to him about some meeting and his eyes land on ilya’s dick for a good few seconds while he just continues to talk about boring sponsorship agreements or after sex when they’re laying naked in the bed talking about whatever and shane keeps intense eye contact with ilya’s now soft cock while he talks about their grocery list.
ilya notices all this of course and he finds it both hot and a little funny and maybe he very deliberately takes a longer time to get dressed just to see how long it takes for shane’s eyes to let go of his cock
i really really love that ilya who grew up in a very homophobic country with a homophobic family in a very masculine homophobic sport, has no shame around his sexuality. he has long since accepted that he's bi and has no shame around it, he has no shame around having gay sex or finding men hot, the struggles around his sexuality always stem from outside factors, but never from shame.
i love ilya saying okay so you're gay, so what? because the act of being gay, being attracted to men, having sex with other men is such a non-issue for him when he could easily have internalized that shit and he also doesn't want it to be shameful for shane. instead he's like i love men, i love having sex with my husband who is super gay and i'm not feeling even an ounce of shame about it
Shane snuffles awake to see it’s foggy out, the world outside the windows just a wall of billowy white, as if it up and disappeared while they were sleeping. If only, he thinks. If only real life could just blur out of existence, everything except the two of them and this bedroom. He burrows his cheek deeper into Ilya’s chest, would burrow all the way under if he could. It’s true right now, he supposes. Right now they’re the only two people on earth. Or might as well be. Close enough for pretending.
Or maybe he’s just thinking nonsense, because his head is so fall-down drunk in love.
He drapes an arm across Ilya’s stomach, and slings a leg over his thigh. He lies still for a generous second before he’s wiggling his hips, rutting morning wood against the bulk of Ilya’s thigh. Burrowing. He runs his hand down into Ilya’s curly hair, digs in until it coils around his fingertips. Ilya starts to stir and Shane wraps his hand around his cock, not moving, just holding and waiting.
“Good morning, boyfriend,” Ilya says, and Shane beams so hard his cheeks hurt. It’s too good to believe, but it’s real. It’s real and right now there’s no world out there. Just this one. He gives Ilya a squeeze and then rolls the rest of the way onto him, tries to melt into the warmth of his skin. Everywhere they touch buzzes electric, and now they’re touching everywhere.
“Good morning, boyfriend,” Shane echoes. The word is sweet like maple sugar candy, so strong, so overwhelming that it almost aches where it sits on his tongue. He nuzzles up against Ilya’s jaw until their lips meet, and lets the syrup spill into his mouth. Ilya hums low in his throat, like he tastes it.
Shane begins the familiar climb down Ilya’s torso, leaving kisses like cairns on the trail. He descends as far as the navel when Ilya halts him with a hand on the top of his head. “Together,” he says, when Shane looks up questioning, and then he slips out from underneath him. He crawls alongside Shane, and manhandles him onto his side. Then he takes Shane’s cock in his mouth, wraps his tongue and hollows his cheeks around him, and Shane goes as foggy as the world outside the windows. Ilya’s tip bumps his lips and he opens, unthinking, inviting him to burrow inside. Then they’re both overwhelmed with maple sugar. They both melt.
i believe that one of the penalties shane gets a lot is unsportsmanlike conduct. in the nhl, this penalty can be issued for players who argue or challenge the refs calls. now, captains are allowed to discuss a call and rule interpretations with a ref, but you gotta be cordial.
shane “hockeytism” hollander HATES when a ref makes a bad call. this is literally your job and youre fucking it up?? that was not slashing are you blind?? he gets heated about this, even when he’s just watching a random game. he’s shouting and cursing and making a well-informed case for why the ref is wrong.
hockey refs are notoriously bad so i guarantee shane gets into it a lot. i do think he knows when to quit so he doesnt get an unnecessary penalty but sometimes the call is so bad he cant help but be furious. his teammates have had to physically restrain him on the bench multiple times so he didnt hop the boards and scream at them.
Early in Shane’s first year with Ottawa, he takes a bad hit on the ice and is knocked unconscious. When he wakes, he discovers he can hear everyone’s thoughts. His excitement is quickly dashed when he discovers that Ilya thinks primarily in Russian so even though he can hear his husband’s thoughts, he can’t understand most of them. Shane doubles his efforts in studying Russian. He hires a tutor and basically any free time he has, he’s studying Russian. He even asks Ilya to speak Russian to him when they’re at home so he can learn faster. Ilya is happy to oblige and by the end of the season, Shane can understand most of Ilya’s thoughts.
They’re warming up on the ice when Shane zeroes in on Ilya’s thoughts. They’re in Russian but he can pretty much understand everything: ‘God, my husband is so hot doing his little stretch. Everything he does is so fucking hot. I’m so fucking lucky. I need to focus, but I really want to kiss him. Would he get mad if I kissed him right now? Maybe just on the cheek? Or-oh shit, he’s looking at me! Why am I so nervous? Oh, he’s coming over here! Maybe to talk about the game? AH! He kissed me on the cheek! The way he’s looking at me, my heart is about to beat out of my chest. Yes, my love, I will calm down…wait, how does he know I’m flustered? Oh, Shane says my smile is goofy. For a second, I thought he could read my thoughts. That would be crazy…unless…Shane if you can hear my thoughts, kiss me on the lips. AH! HE KISSED ME ON THE LIPS! SHANE, MY LOVE YOU CAN HEAR ME, YES? I LOVE YOU! DO YOU HEAR ME, I LOVE YOU! COME BACK HERE! DON’T SKATE AWAY FROM ME!’
Shane is learning Russian and he has a textbook full of different exercises. He needs a partner to practice the speaking exercises, so of course he asks Ilya to be his speaking partner when he does them. And while the exercises are just basic back and forths, learning to ask and answer questions, this has the potential to go off the rails quickly.
Shane gets to the unit about relationships (family, professional, romantic) and Shane and Ilya ask each other whether they have friends, siblings, roommates, etc. And the way Shane says "Да, у меня есть муж" (yes, I have a husband) makes Ilya lose it a little bit. It just turns into foreplay because Shane's accent is so bad, but he's actually very good at memorizing the correct grammatical structures and vocabulary that it's so fucking hot cute.
God help Ilya when they're no longer practicing speaking exercises and are speaking for real in public, and he has to suppress the urge to pin Shane down right then and there.
hi beautiful buggy. your soft smut makes me happy and calm and fuzzy. i have been having a bad time can you write something really soft? whatever you want 🥺
Hi bugggybabe! I’m sorry things are tough, here’s something warm and horny and sweet for ya ❤️🔥
“It’s cold” Shane’s voice is a low simper, and Ilya turns his head once he hears it. His boy is here.
His heart brightens, chest warm at the creak of the outdoor floorboard under his foot. His boy is here!
Ilya shifts from where he’s sat on the rocking chair they’d put out here last summer. (They’d been watching a movie at Ilya’s place in Boston- Ilya can’t remember what but there had been a scene of a character sitting in a rocking chair watching the sunrise, drinking a coffee. Shane had sighed and snuggled closer to Ilya and said “that looks nice baby”. And Ilya knew Shane was thinking about their summer mornings together, curled up on the large rock by the lake, or sat on the deck or the outdoor lounge watching the sun rise up over the water. It would be nice, Ilya thought, a big wicker chair for the pair of them that they could gently rock in, share coffee while they watched the first light of the day. Ilya had gotten one made for them for Christmas, handmade big enough to fit them tangled up on it together. It had been waiting on the deck when they arrived this summer, and Shane had been glowing with happiness to see it in person.)
He watches Shane shuffle across the deck to him from where he’d walk out of the home. He had the blanket from the end of their bed wrapped around him, thick and fluffy soft, Shane’s favourite, and Ilya could see the peak of his bare chest under it, his sweatpants slung low on Shane’s hips. Shane’s breath clouded out in a haze into the fresh morning air, and Ilya took a slow drag of the cigarette he’d been smoking, savoured the hum of the nicotine as he savoured the site of his boy sleep disheveled and summer tanned, half asleep walking over to him. Ilya can’t believe it sometimes, that Shane is his. What they have.
“Come here then, get warm” Ilya says, motions to his lap, arm spread to the side and he exhales the smoke before he stubs out his cigarette on the side of his mug of coffee and drops it to the small side table it was resting on.
Shane wrinkles his nose at the smell of the smoke and Ilya hopes his boy is feeling sweet enough to kiss him despite the taste. He didn’t expect Shane to join him out here, he expected to have time to brush his teeth and use mouthwash before he crawled into bed to pout and ask for morning kisses.
With a huff, Shane is standing between the spread of Ilya’s knees, and Ilya can see the softness of his chest, his stomach, the skin goose bumped in the breeze. Ilya can’t wait any longer to touch him.
“Here” Ilya says again, looks down at his own lap and back up to Shane before he shoves his hands under Shane’s blanket cape to grab at his hips. He’s so fucking warm, his skin is so fucking soft it makes Ilya feel hungry. Fuck he loves him. He squeezes Shane’s hips hard, and Shane just grunts, takes a small step closer and then he’s placing himself in Ilya’s lap because he’s a good boy. Ilya leans up and smudges a kiss to his chin as a reward.
Shane squirms closer in his lap, thighs either side of Ilya’s legs, and he grips the edges of the blankets in his hands and wraps his arms around Ilya’s neck, taking him into his warm sweet cocoon. He smells like their bed, like sweat and sun cream and his body wash. Ilya leans in and rubs his face all over the soft warm skin of Shane’s neck, smooth and warm and lovely. He pulls in deep heavy breaths, taking hungry inhales of Shanes smell, the smell of home. His boy.
Ilya had only been outside for less than an hour but he’d missed Shane, and was thankful now for his warmth in his lap. The way his fingers were gently dancing over his shoulders. Ilya wraps his arms tighter around Shane’s waist and squeezes, squeezes, pulls until Shane is pressed completely to him and he feels Shane let out a throaty tired laugh.
“You feel good” Ilya sighs, dizzy from the sensory pleasure of the soft of the blanket the warmth of Shane, the smell of him, the joy of seeing Shane, Shane being his to pull into him. Shane hums and squeezes his thighs around Ilya, shuffles closer in a way that makes the rocking chair roll back.
“Thank you for letting me in your cocoon Zaychik” Kay whispers into Shane’s neck, bites to the left of his Adam’s apple.
“S’okay Ilya. Why’re you awake?” Shane asks, words are slurred together and his voice is so lovely and rumbly. He must have woken up and stumbled right out here first thing, he still sounds half asleep.
“Nothing bad” Ilya assures him, slides a hand down to find a handful of Shane’s ass.
“Just was up, couldn’t sleep and wanted a smoke” Ilya explains because it’s true, it had been as simple as that. He’d been cutting down in the cigarettes as much as possible, but during summer he did allow himself the pleasure a few times when he could tuck the habit away from Shane.
“Sorry” he adds and Shane rests his cheeks in Ilya’s head, shakes his head.
“S’okay. But no more now yeah?” Shane says and Ilya smiles into the skin of his neck.
“No more” Ilya nods, he doesn’t need a smoke not when he can rub his lips over the warm skin of Shane’s neck in little circles.
“Sleep okay?” Ilya asks, because he wants to know, likes to know how Shane has slept, if he feels well rested if he had any weird dreams. He wants to know everything he can about Shane, what he thinks of the dinner they made, if he likes the movie they are watching- what tshirt he likes on Ilya better. Ilya loves getting the see the world through Shane too.
“Mmhm, good” Shane agrees and he lays the blanket over Ilya’s shoulders, his hand smooths up into the back of Ilya’s curls, fingers tangle in and scratch scratch. Ilya shivers, and he feels his cock twitch in his boxers. Cheap shot.
“But then I woke up and you weren’t there” Shane’s voice is soft and little whiny and his fingers are needing through has hair, thighs squeezing around Ilya and oh. Oh.
That’s why Shane hadn’t given him shit about the smoke. His boy woke up needy.
“Yeah?” Ilya asks then, and his other hand slides to Shane’s ass too, uses his grip to pull his his down into Ilya’s lap and there, there is the hot press of Shane’s cock through thin fabric, pushing against him.
“Yeah” Shane sighs and he repeats the down rolling motion without Ilya’s hands prompting. His hips grind down in slow pretty circles.
“Woke up needing me?” Ilya whispers, low into the curve of Shane’s jaw and Shane nods, his fingers tighten in his hair.
“Just wanted, wanted to cuddle” Shane stutters out and Ilya smirks, parts his lips and bites at Shane’s Adam’s apple. Little liar.
“Cuddle huh?” Ilya asks, and then he’s pushing his hips up now too, matching Shane’s slow rolling thrusts. His cock hardens with every rutting movement, and Ilya feels Shane’s fingers tighten in his curls with each one.
“Yeah. Cuddle” Shane replies. Horny little devil, little deceiver. Ilya thinks and he draws his nose up Shane’s neck, along his jaw, bumps his nose against Shane’s soft pout and then up to rub their noses together.
“And what about kiss?” Ilya asks, hovering his mouth a breath away from Shane’s, his hard cock pressing against Shane’s, the friction of it hot and mouth watering. The chair rocks with each honey slow rock of Shane’s hips down into him and Ilya’s thrusts up to meet him where they both ache. “Did you wake up wanting a kiss too?” Ilya breaths.
Shane lets out a soft huff through his nose, pouts his mouth in the way he always does when he’s silently asking for a kiss and Ilya has to bite his tongue to stop himself from giving in. The hump of their hips gets better, lines up just right fuck yes the drag of fabric between them, the matching rigid lines of their cocks, fully hard and aching bumping and dragging perfectly against each other. Ilya wishes he could just part Shane’s ass and push into him, that he was ready and slick and he could feel him tight and gripping.
He pulls back just enough to look over Shane’s face through low lidded eyes. Shane’s face is puffy with sleep, eyelashes clumped, a sheet crease across his cheek. The morning light is tangerine warm behind Shane, lights him like a halo, the sun behind his head, his sun warm and brilliant and beautiful and shining in his lap. Ilya pulls a hand away from Shane’s ass to cup his face in one hand, he twists his head and takes a bite of Shane’s cheek instead of his mouth and feels Shane slump into him, heavy warm, all muscle and man lovely and loose in his lap.
“Ilya” Shane whines, and Ilya smirks, presses his lips to where he’d just bitten, a tiny kiss and he smooths his hand over the back of Shane’s head. The head of his cock nudges the thickness of Shane’s and Ilya chases the exact same hot drag of that once, twice more, rocking Shane in his lap.
“Well?” Ilya asks and Shane nods, “yes, and kisses” he mutters petulantly and Ilya beams, shark smile, and tilts his head up to close the distance between them, kisses him slow and sweet, before he pushes his tongue in behind Shane’s teeth. Shane’s hand grips his hair, pulls, pulls as he kisses Ilya back, shivery and sweet. Ilya kisses the taste of coffee and cigarettes into Shane’s mouth and then they kiss the taste away all together, until they just taste like each other, saliva and skin.
Ilya’s hand slides down Shane’s neck to his chest, thumbs his nipple and Shane rolls his hips down in a heavy needy shiver, so strong the chair rocks back and the blanket slips down Ilya’s shoulders. The cold morning air prickles his skin, sharp contrast to the boy burning in his lap, the warmth he’d bought with him, Ilya hadn’t realised how cold out it was until he had a lap full of his boy.
Shane’s hands reach up and tucks the blanket back around Ilya’s shoulders, rubs his hand over the fabric as if to warm him. and Ilya grabs Shane’s face, kisses him wet and messy till his jaw aches from it. Fuck he loves him.
They cum like that, rutting against each other in sway of the rocking chair, kissing hot and messy wrapped in the one thick blanket. Shane’s big hand between them, wrapped around both of them with their spit making it a nice wet glide. when the mess of their cum is between their stomachs and hands Ilya strips his boxers fully to clean them up, and then stands with Shane gathered in his arms, walking them up to shower as Shane tucks his head into Ilya’s neck and talks about what they should make for breakfast.
boyfriend - hollanov - @hollanovmicrofic - word count: 434 - click here for my hollanov microfic archive on ao3
“You should know something…”
They’re laying in Shane’s bed, the sun slowly disappearing behind the trees outside, their legs intertwined. Shane’s never felt more relaxed in his entire life.
Or…that was how he had been feeling a second ago. Until Ilya said that.
“What?” he asks suspiciously, sitting up and rolling to half lay on top of Ilya, his stomach bubbling with anxiety a little.
“Relax, Hollander,” Ilya chides him, reading his mood instantly. “I am not confessing to murder. Just…you should know. I have never been a boyfriend before. I will maybe be awful at it. Maybe first time ever I suck at something.”
Shane blinks, sensing Ilya’s underlying nerves. But also, he has to enjoy the fact that, for the first time, he has the upper hand in something that has to do with them.
And he has to, of course, fuck with Ilya about it. “It’s okay,” he says lightly, keeping his face neutral. “I’ll help you out. I know what I’m doing.”
This has exactly the effect he intends. A grumbling Ilya flipping them in the bed so Shane is suddenly pinned, gasping a little, biting back a smile as the other man glares down at him, a mixture of confusion and jealousy settles on his face. “You mean because of Rose Landry? Or you have other–?”
“I’ve had a couple girlfriends, yeah,” he answers, forcing himself to be calm even through his amusement. “Y’know, in high school and stuff.”
Pouting.
Ilya Rozanov is pouting.
“What did you do with them? You–how long was it for?” Ilya demands, obviously trying and failing to simply sound curious rather than desperate.
And this is why Shane’s not embarrassed when he says, “Well, the one that lasted the longest was this girl named Michelle. We, uh, dated a few months. Fucked once or twice. And I was a total dick to her because I broke up with her right after I got drafted. See, I met this guy in the hotel gym that night and couldn’t stop thinking of him after that, so…”
Finally, Ilya relaxes on top of him, his expression turning sheepish. “Oh.”
“Oh,” Shane repeats, smirking.
“Poor Michelle. You are terrible boyfriend, Hollander, maybe I should be worried,” Ilya grins, leaning to kiss his jaw.
“Oh shut up, you were jealous as fuck two seconds ago. Plus, it doesn’t matter. I am the more experienced one here, you can’t den–”
But Shane is cut off by a smirking Ilya grinding their hips together and making him gasp, effectively stopping their conversation completely as Shane gasps.
Ilya is the kind of person who would ask his husband of he still loves him at least five times a day.
And sure, Shane tells him "love you" every time he leaves the house or before they go to bed, it's a habit. And Ilya knows Shane loves him, he feels loved, that is not the question. It's just sometimes Ilya gets in his head, especially on bad days, and hearing Shane promising his love again would just help sooth Ilya's restless mind.
The only thing is, despite getting better thanks to therapy, sometimes Ilya still struggles asking Shane directly for favours, especially for these stupid little things that Ilya thinks he should know already and not be such a baby about it.
One of these days they bicker in the kitchen, as they always do, and Ilya loves that Shane has such strong opinions on how to load the dishwasher and how he doesn't hold back telling Ilya about it, where he'd hide his irritation under a mask of politeness with everyone else. "Ilya, I love you, but if you put the olive wood bowls in the dishwasher again, you gonna sleep on the couch", Shane grumbles halfheartedly. Ilya, feeling a little rough and untethered today, doesn't realise what he is saying when he quitely asks: "Oh. You do?"
And Shane, so finely tuned to Ilya's tone and moods, immediately turns around to him, concern written all over his face as he tilts his head. "Of course I do. You know that, right?" Ilya scoffs and waves a hand, "Yeah, yeah. I know," and tries to tease Shane in an attempt to diffuse this moment that suddenly got too emotional for his liking.
But it wouldn't be Shane if we would let Ilya get away with his bullshitting, and in just a few steps he crosses the room and cups Ilya's face, gently urging Ilya to look at him. "I love you, Ilyusha. So fucking much." Ilya rolls his eyes, but he can't quiet disguise how he he begins to tremble so he buries his hands in Shane's sweater. "Yeah, okay. Love you too. Shall I do dishes now or what."
"Ilya. Ilyusha." Shane, forever the unstoppable force, doesn't let himself be deterred. His thumbs caress the stubble on Ilya's cheeks and Ilya leans into the touch, soaks in the warmth and calm radiating from Shane. "Я тебя люблю", Shane says, quiet and so certain, and something in Ilya gives in, his body going limp.
Finally he is able to meet Shane's gaze and Ilya is drowning in these deep brown eyes, overwhelmed by all the love pouring out of Shane, the silent strength in his husband's expression. Always so steadfast, always so earnest. And there is not one single one of the dark, insecure thoughts left in Ilya's head. He sinks in Shane's embrace, let's himself be craddled while crying softly, and hearing those wonderful words over and over again. "I love you. I love you. Я тебя люблю."
These thoughts won't be gone forever, and again, Ilya will feel silly for feeling so desperate. But again, it wouldn't be Shane if he didn't realise what his husband really needs. So he makes sure to take amoment every single day to take Ilya's hand and makes him look in Shane's eyes, when he calmly tells Ilya how much he loves him, just like he did on their wedding day. And no matter how often Shane says it, Ilya always melts against him.
And after some time, he manages to push through, and ask Shane directly "Can say that you love me, please?". Because he knows Shane does, Ilya just wants to hear it, again and again. And Shane complies of course, every single time with the same affection and sincerity.
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