s/hane h/ollander growing up perfectionist, dedicated, hardworking, never misses a day of practice, finishes games even when he’s sore and bloody, never takes a break. everybody oohs and aahs over his endurance and inability to quit and he usually likes that, likes the praise, likes that feeling of his muscles burning when he pushes himself past his limits yet again
cue s/hane h/ollander, who finds the concept of being forced to take a sick day and rest, being cared for, being babied even, so overwhelmingly and unutterably sexy. can’t even put it into words, he finds it so hot. would never ever be able to admit out loud even to his husband
cause he’s ashamed of it, is the thing. he’s supposed to be better than that. he’s supposed to be able to grit his teeth and do the work, and he always can, because he surpasses expectations for a living. he’s the best player in the fucking league, for god’s sake
and when his husband clicks his tongue and pulls back from their morning kiss and says “you feel a bit warm, h/ollander, no practice today” so matter of factly, with no room for debate, like it’s just a fact that the amazing s/hane h/ollander is allowed to take a day off work for a little cold and brewing fever… well. s/hane maybe gets this warm feeling in his gut, like arousal but also like that feeling he gets when i/lya calls him moya lyubov and kisses his forehead before bed. that feeling of being loved, being protected, being allowed to be weak and vulnerable and being covered anyway
I mean. he still jerks off about it from his sickbed and maybe tackles i/lya with a kiss the minute he brings up soup for s/hane that evening. but he also gets a little in his feels about it, too
(he does not have to say it in words. i/lya already knows, the way he knows everything about his husband, and he doesn’t mind to indulge it one bit. he likes it, even. s/hane so rarely lets himself be cared for outside of the bedroom, i/lya will pounce on any opportunity to show his love)
