espn makes some silly money grab documentary about shane, and ilya insists on watching it the night it premieres. shane mostly reads his book while ilya is curled up with his head in shane's lap. about halfway through, it gets to montreal's second cup win. ilya is smiling softly as he watches, remembering how proud he had felt when he had seen it in real time.
until it cuts to a clip he's never seen of the metros' locker room from when they were celebrating. he watches as shaky footage pans over a group of players huddled together, all screaming and whooping as someone pops open champagne and pours it all over a laughing shane, who is situated right in the middle. he watches with intense curiosity as the shane on screen texts someone with a huge smile on his face, even with the celebration happening around him.
"who were you texting, moy lyubimyy? yuna, yes?" he couldn't imagine there being anyone else shane would be talking to during a moment like that.
shane's eyes dart to the screen as ilya rewinds a couple of seconds so that he can see it for himself. he watches as shane's eyes widen, as his cheeks immediately tint into a bright pink. he quickly looks away and back at his book.
"um..." shane starts, trailing off as he glances back at ilya with a face of pure embarrassment. "no. i uh, fuck. i was actually; well. i was texting you."
ilya's brows furrow as he thinks back to that night. he did remember sending shane a number of texts, most of which were filthy promises of how he was planning to reward him at the mlh awards that year. but he knew those came much later in the evening. until he remembered the single word text he had sent almost immediately after shane had held the cup over his head for the second time in a row. a teasing little quip.
'lucky.'
a slow smirk spreads across ilya's face. "you wanted to text me so much that you could not wait until you left the locker room? you wanted my dick this badly, hollander?"
shane shoved him, looking every bit of the angry little kitten ilya likes to teasingly call him. "fuck off! that's not... fuck. i liked you. a lot, okay? i probably already loved you. so yeah, it was really nice to hear from you during the biggest moment of my life at that point."
ilya felt like molten hot lava hearing those words. his heart was beating so fast he thought it might burst out of his chest, while all the blood in his body simultaneously surged downwards.
"fuck, shane. ya tebya lyublyu." he murmured before frantically tugging down shane's sweats and proceeding to give him the sloppiest, wettest blow job known to mankind, obviously.