A/N: These two won't fucking leave my algorithm and my mind alone, so guess what? Now it's everyone's problem. I'm still getting a grasp at their dynamic and characters, so forgive me for any ooc and such
Summary: It's way past Hoshina's sleeping hours and Narumi is still playing in his phone.
Word count: 1371 words
[Also on Ao3]
Tap tap tap tap tap.
Hoshina scrunched up his nose as the incessant sound reached his ears. This wasn't the first time he heard it around this hour, but it was definitely more… aggressive this time. More impatient than usual, frustrated even.
If the noise was the only thing disturbing his rare, extra hours of sleep, Hoshina would've managed to ignore it. He'd had it worse before, so it was hardly going to be an issue now. But there was the grumbling, the constant nudging and kicking around the mattress and even, sometimes, a sudden and loud "fuck" coming from the space right next to him.
With his head still pressed comfortably against the pillow, the vice-captain let out a tired sigh before poking the body behind him with his elbow. Maybe, if he tried to be positive about it, that would be enough to knock some sense back into Narumi.
He was his guest after all, and spending the night together was his idea.
And it worked, for solid ten seconds, but it did. Just when Hoshina thought about drifting back into sleep, it started over again.
Tap tap tap tap tap.
Hoshina felt his eyebrow twitch and clenched his hand around the blankets, his fingers pressing hard against his palm. Narumi's quiet groans were slowly coming back as well, so it would be only a matter of time before he cursed at someone in the same lobby as him.
"Narumi," Hoshina called from his side of the bed, gazing at the distance while not a single word came back after his call, only the soft rustling of the sheets and the tapping against the small screen. "It's 2 in the morning, can't you call it a day? We could cuddle—"
"S-shhh, not now," Narumi gasped, the panic in his voice making it sound like Hoshina disrupted his focus during something important — more important than him, at least. "Damned b-bastard, you think you can get aw— ahh, nonono!"
"Narumi!" Hoshina hissed a little louder, turning around to see the other flinch and curl up, but with the little device still in his hands. "You— agh, please, turn it off. Let's sleep," he muttered, watching Narumi's body ease up along with his tone. Hoshina cursed himself inside his head, if only he was a little firmer…
Without giving room to the better judgment, Hoshina simply laid back down and scooted over, closer to the other man. Narumi didn't stop him or fought back when his arms wrapped around the captain's body, probably aware of how close he was to Hoshina's limits.
They laid in each other's and the phone's company. The screen's flashing and brights lights continued to shine in their faces and Hoshina had to hide his face in the back of Narumi's shoulder to avoid getting a headache. "How many rounds are left?"
"It's not a round, stupid bowl-cut," Narumi huffed, almost like if he was offended by Hoshina's mistake. "It's a match. It's over when it's over, then I start another."
"Then you go to sleep, captain."
Silence settled again at the correction, it was clear Narumi didn't really feel like stopping his climb. Trying to adjust his eyes to the light, Hoshina could make out some aspects of the game and he could swear he heard Narumi cursing it and saying he would never play it again just the other day.
He really wished the captain would stick to his words now.
"Do everyone gets mad like you playing it?" Hoshina started again, his chin resting on the crook of Narumi's neck while his arms tightened around the captain's body. "Or are you just bad at it—"
"Fuck off, will you?" Narumi promptly answered, hitting one of Hoshina's legs with his bare heel while not even lifting his eyes off the screen. "Don't start acting up now, yeah?"
"Sigh, how cold of you, captain. You could at least pretend to care for my feelings like you do for your games," Hoshina chuckled, close to Narumi's ear and smirked at the sight of its tip gaining a faint shade of red. He could feel the pulse under his cheek, going up the side of Narumi's neck. So cute. "I'll take it as you don't want to sleep with me and do something, then."
"Damn right you should, bowl-cut," Narumi groaned, letting a small huff of relief when it stopped feeling like Hoshina was talking into his ear. He felt the vice-captain's hand moving around his body slightly, assuming Hoshina would leave him for his pillows instead.
But he didn't. They stopped, dead in their tracks. And, then, Narumi felt it. An awful, dreadful feeling that made his heart sink inside his chest.
Two fingers pressed down at his side, right below his lowest rib. They nudged the spot, rubbing a small circle with just enough pressure to have Narumi squirming and twisting around and to alarm each and every nerve inside the captain's body.
"Hoshina," Narumi called, putting up his best efforts to not miss a single shot in his game while Hoshina's hands trailed down to his stomach. Unconsciously, Narumi pressed himself against the chest behind his back, finding out Hoshina wasn't as far as he thought he was. "G-get your hand off me, now."
"Focus on your match, captain," Hoshina hummed, curling and uncurling his fingers on top of Narumi's stomach, tickling him just in the right way to make Narumi's breathing hitch. "Unless you need me more than the victory right now."
"I-I neehed you to stohop this!" Narumi whined, gritting his teeth while his lips displayed a crooked, annoyed smile. He tried to shift around, avoid the tickling without disturbing his game, but Hoshina's hand followed his body no matter how he moved. "Y-yohohou're so fuhucking ahannoying, bohowl-cut!"
"Stop what, captain? I need you to issue a clearer order if you want me to follow it," Hoshina explained matter-of-factly. "Oh? Looks like you missed something there!"
"SHUhuhut up!" Narumi cried, giggles already spilling past his best defenses. All he could do was lay back against Hoshina and let himself be played like a fucking toy if he wanted to win that game — and he hated it!
He felt hot around his collar and uncomfortable inside his skin. Hoshina wasn't even trying that hard, but that damned bowl-cut knew just which buttons to push to make it tickle like hell, to make Narumi smile and laugh himself into a stupid puddle. "I-I'm gohoing to fuhucking kill yohou!"
"You'd need to let go of your game to do that, captain," Hoshina giggled. He moved closer, again, while his hand climbed Narumi's ribs and tickled him there, making the captain let out an embarrassingly cute squeal. "And you don't want to do that, right? Focus. Finish it, captain."
"H-Hoshihina!" Narumi gasped, his elbow pressing down as hard as he could. Narumi tightened his grip around his phone so much that he feared he would snap the damn thing in half at any point. His whole body tingled with anticipation, each poke against his ribs felt like electricity running through his veins, like fireworks flaring up around his body.
This was so stupid, he wasn't even that ticklish! Why did it felt so bad now?!
"Stohohp— nnghah, plehehease! I dohohon't want to lohose!" Narumi finally begged, the threat of having that hand slipping up any further enough to have him shaking. His cheeks felt stupidly warm, his mind paying attention to anything but the game still on going.
Narumi was forced to make his character take cover. He had everything to clutch the match: ultimate skill, ammo, a good spot. Everything, but he couldn't move. He could only smile and giggle within Hoshina's embrace. "I-I'll sleheheep with you— w-we cahahan do whahatever! J-just stop!"
"That's no good, captain, you can't be throwing the towel like that," Hoshina clicked his tongue, pressing his finger down just a little harder to make Narumi jump. "You've to win it," he moved closer, kissing Narumi's cheek while the threatening tickling continued. "Because I will really tickle you if you lose, captain."
"D-dahamned bohowl-cut!" Narumi hissed, feeling adrenaline rush inside his veins with Hoshina's breath against his skin.
When Ilya is annoyed with Shane, he sends him pictures of terrible architecture mistakes and dissatisfying objects as rage bait.
"Why are the windows of center?" "Why is the spoon flat?" Did they not test these stairs before they build them?" "Stop showing me rainboots with holes!"
In The Long Game, Shane has a thing for public sex, but only conceptually. He likes the idea and fantasy of it. He wouldn't actually do it.
Which, honestly, is good for Ilya, imo. Because let's be honest, he'd seethe with jealousy if anyone but him saw Shane the way he did. The way Shane goes all pliant and soft? Only for Ilya. The way his eyes go hazy with pleasure? Only for Ilya. The way he begs for Ilya to go harder and faster, with a "please" thrown in? Only for Ilya. The way he completely trusts Ilya and gives him power for this moment? Only for Ilya Rozanov, and he will not be sharing.
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.
when they go back to Montreal and Boston after the summer of being in each others pockets, Shane finally gets to meet his newest goddaughter Amber. She’s four months old, pudgy and grinning a huge gummy smile at everyone. Jackie takes a picture of Shane smiling softly at her while Amber is delighted with her uncle Shane.
When he sends it to Ilya he is so consumed with the need to knock him up that his legs go to jelly a bit. He’s clinging to his kitchen island going through the five stages of grief about not being able to biologically impregnate him.
Idk my one unshakable headcanon is that Ilya is the morning person. Yes he parties till god knows what hour and doesn't mind staying up late, but he also wakes up between 5:30 and 6:00 every morning like clockwork. It's a good thing too because it was key to living as peacefully as possible in his house growing up. And he doesn't hate getting his day going early. Unless he's deep in the depression. But even then, on days he can't get out of bed, he'll wake up around the same time and just lie there. It's habit at this point.
Shane, meanwhile, haaaaates mornings. He gets up at 5 every day for his first workout because he's Dedicated and Determined but he has to scrape himself off of his mattress each time, grumbling as he does. He hates the transition between sleeping and awake so fucking much, especially when it's rushed. David and Yuna developed so many creative ways of getting him up as gently as possible growing up. Part of why he loves going to his cottage so much is it's the one time of year where he doesn't have to set a crazy alarm. He can work out whenever he wants to in the day. If he sleeps in a bit he doesn't feel like he's letting anyone down. If Shane had no responsibilities? Man, he'd be sleeping in and napping as much as he could.
Whenever he and Ilya spend the night together, and certainly when they start living together, Shane gets woken up with a sweet kiss, a cup of coffee, and either breakfast in bed or pre-workout depending on if it's season or off.
Ilya after an Ottawa vs Boston game “Sorry boys, I can’t go out tonight. The old ball and chain wants me home.”
“…You mean Hollzy?”
“First of all, Shane would never chain me down, he picks me up he is the wind beneath my wings. He is the light of my life my moon and my stars. He doesn’t bring me down, he raises me up. Don’t you dare ever fucking suggest that again. I meant Cliff Marlow. We’re cooking him dinner.”
Hollanov canon au Shane gets outed but no one can identify the guy and they decide to hide ilya’s identity until they don’t have to worry about his Russian passport only now there are a bunch of men coming forward claiming to be the guy and so Shane has to state the guy who will remain anonymous is his long time partner and then guys online keep trying to convince him that they wouldn’t hide/to break up with that guy and Ilya is basically foaming at the mouth at this point.
He counts down the days and as soon as he doesn’t have to worry about russia he starts posting online asking Shane Hollander to pretty please consider him for his next boyfriend and Shane visibly flirts back and people are going crazy because does this mean that the other guy is out of the picture or???
Only they post a picture of them together a few days later that reveals Ilya was the guy all along and the internet explodes
“I can believe I asked Shane Hollander if Ilya Rozanov could fight I just barely escaped with my jaw intact omg”
”sorry I said I was better looking than your boyfriend I have taken my humble medication”
”what kind of power does hockey robot Shane Hollander hold to pull rose landry AND Ilya rozanov???”
Ilya Rozanov is a big, beefy athlete who gets paid millions to violently smash into other men on the ice, and he transforms into a dramatic damsel in distress the moment his husband comes into the room. There is no jar that is opened or trash that is taken to the curb by anyone but Shane.
“Shane, TV remote is all the way over there. Is almost in other time zone. My arms are weak, can you get it please, Shane.”
“Shane!! Shane, I have cut from cardboard! It’s bleeding, Shane, can you do first aid? I think I need mouth to mouth, Shane, I’m fading fast!”
“Shane, I am so thirsty I think my throat is atrophied from being dry.” (Earns a “wow, atrophied, where did you learn that word?” from Shane.)
“Shane, I’m getting sick, can you rub special cream on my chest? I am losing strength, Shane, I don’t think there is much time.”
*walks in door, first thing he says* “Shane, I almost was stranded today. My car was on E and my big, strong husband was not there to pump gas. I was coasting to gas station on fumes and vibe only, Shane.“
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