#hr microfic

[kriemhildes]

Need

Word count: 794 | Prompt: Quiet | @hollanovmicrofic

Tags: Explicit, sexual content, masturbation, established hollanov, subspace, sub!Shane, dom!Ilya

Ilya felt like he was about to be vibrated off the bed. 

Shane’s leg had been twitching in rhythm for the better part of the evening, and once he had turned on his reading light, Ilya thought it would quiet down. But that was apparently not the case - if anything, it seemed to intensify the twitches. 

Ilya turned over, leveling Shane with his gaze as he checked his husband’s face for any clues. Shane immediately switched his attention to Ilya, his eyes wide in surprise. “You’re up?” 

“Yes. How can I sleep when you try to imitate earthquake?” His voice was gravely, though, so yes, he must have been half-asleep at some point. 

Shane’s lips tightened as he furrowed his brows in apology. “Sorry,” he murmured, putting his bookmark into the book and discarding it to the night stand. 

For a moment he contemplated, and Ilya knew he was up to something. So, abandoning the idea of sleep, Ilya rolled to his back, stretched and then set up against the head board. This will be fun, he hoped. 

Shane seemed to have come to a conclusion, nodding once to himself, and then looking down to his hands. “Ilya?” 

The man in question raised an eyebrow. “Yes?” 

“I… need you.” 

The silence was deafening. 

Shane turned his head then, his eyes finding Ilya’s and that’s when Ilya knew what Shane meant.

He closed his eyes for a few seconds and felt himself slip into his role. “Okey,” he murmured, letting Shane know he was up for the task. 

“Take off your shirt.” 

He heard Shane pull the blanket off, his arms moving to take off his white shirt he always wore as pyjamas. When he opened his eyes again, Shane was sitting rigidly straight, his back turned to Ilya. 

Ilya kicked off the blanket gathered at his hips, kneeling behind Shane’s body, his hands coming up to touch the soft skin. “Shanya needs to relax, doesn’t he,” Ilya asked nobody in particular. 

A soft hum echoed as a response, Shane’s muscles relaxing one after another. “Needs to lose himself a bit, hm?” Shane’s head fell to the side, his neck muscles bulging. 

Ilya kissed over the exposed skin, feeling Shane shudder. “Touch yourself,” he whispered, observing Shane who inhaled sharply. 

“Come here.” Ilya manhandled Shane against his front, leaning against Shane’s side of the headboard, until they were flush against each other and Ilya was able to look over Shane’s shoulder. 

“What did I tell you to do, Shanya?” Shane let his head drop onto Ilya’s shoulder, his breath stuttering. His hand came up, gently taking his half-hard cock into his palm, stroking it once. 

“More,” Ilya mumbled against Shane’s skin, his eyes fixating on the precome gathering at Shane’s tip. He noted the way Shane’s left arm came up to cup his chest, the habit of feeling pressure there overtaking the realization that it’s because of Ilya he needed it in the first place. 

Ilya kissed Shane’s trapezius, unfurling another shudder. Shane inhaled sharply, and jutted his nose against Ilya’s ear, needing the contact.

Shane’s right hand had found a rhythm, stroking his cock in a way that spread his precome across his length. “Just like that,” Ilya approved, making Shane twitch involuntarily. “Doing so good for me, Shanya.” 

Shane moaned, the sounds hitting Ilya’s ear with hot air, making him grab Shane’s thighs. 

“Faster.” The command earned him another grunt, Shane’s rhythm picking up by a lot, his muscles twitching beneath Ilya’s grip. 

“Such a good boy, fuck,” he could feel Shane rutting up against him, his own cock prodding at Shane’s back, tension unbearable. 

Shane mewled into Ilya’s neck, Ilya’s lips sucking the expanse of skin he could get, while Shane continued to grab harshly onto his own chest, his abs and soon Ilya’s hair. His moans crescended into that higher pitch, letting Ilya know he was close. 

Ilya released Shane’s thighs, scraping the skin up Shane’s sides, his chest, pulling them even closer. 

“Come for me,” Ilya demanded, and Shane, fuck, he convulsed, his hand grabbing his cock like a lifeline, stroking hard, quick, abandonless.

Cum stained their blanket, falling in spurts as Shane’s mouth dropped open, a moan caught in his throat, his fingers digging into Ilya’s scalp.

“Fuck,” he choked out, but Ilya already had him. His hands slid over Shane's damp skin, his muscles, his bones. He kissed his way up against Shane’s neck until he met his cheek, his lips, his tongue.

“Such a good boy, Shanya, you did so well for me.” 

Shane dropped against him like a sack of potatoes, his body finally stopped twitching. Stopped moving. His head empty, his eyes glazed. 

With a smile Ilya noted his own orgasm staining his boxers, but that was a thing to worry over later.

End note: *donk: horny jail. I'm sorry if I didn't catch the subspace properly. I'll try working on capturing it more accurately - it's a process. I hope you enjoyed this one, and thank you for reading <3

[moon-seas]

a retelling of "we didn't even kiss" | hollanov | E

Shane feels sick with it, stomach hollowed out and churning. He feels slimy, skin dirty where he can feel Ilya’s drying sweat, his own dry come flaking on his belly. He feels wrong, his body scraped open and then left. 

He takes out his phone. 

we didn’t even kiss

He deletes it. 

Shane’s eyes are hot, burning in his head. His contacts are reusable, they probably even have three or four more days left in them but he pulls them out without washing his hands and throws them on the floor somewhere near the trashcan. 

He takes a boiling hot shower, tries to wash the feeling of Ilya’s hard hands off him, scouring his biceps, his chest, his thighs. He scrubs so hard his skin turns red and raw. 

He brushes his teeth until his gums bleed. In half a panic he thinks about shaving everything off, just to have it off his fucking body so he didn’t have to fucking feel it. He can still feel it. 

His hands are shaking too badly for that so instead he layers, underwear, shorts, sweatpants, short sleeves, long sleeves, hoodie, hood up. 

How can he protect himself from his own body. He liked it. He came. Shane turns and vomits vodka and come and bile. He wanted it. He swallowed Ilya down, begged for it even. How could he have wanted this. 

He takes his phone out. 

can we talk  i think i’m sick  ilya  somethings wrong 

He lands on 

i don’t think i wanted that

He hits send. 

[kriemhildes]

First Dates

Word count: 513 | Prompt: Film | @hollanovmicrofic

Tags: hollanov's first date, AU, fluff, movie dates ftw

Shane was late. He sprinted down the alley, the leaves crunching beneath his shoes as he frantically checked the traffic lights. It was so unlike him to be late, and it just had to be for a date. 

He’d made sure to look his best tonight: hair made up (by his close friend Rose), classy clothes (picked out by Jackie, another close friend), and the proper assortment of perfume, so he wouldn’t scare the guy off by smelling like the gym rat that he was. 

It just had to be Ilya as well. The guy he couldn’t stop thinking about for weeks. 

They’d met at one of Hayden’s group hang-outs. Shane had just arrived to the party when he immediately noticed eyes on him, searing through his skin, making him melt right then and there. 

Giving Ilya Rozanov his number was a no-brainer. That it would take them this long to schedule a date was another matter, though. 

He knew a movie date wasn’t the most ideal first-date-activity, but Shane also knew himself well enough to admit he needed something to get the ball rolling. Otherwise, it would have been nothing but painful, awkward small talk. And that wasn’t necessarily reason enough to put this much thought and effort into it, but with Ilya… it was different. 

He finally made it up the steps, already seeing a tall figure at the entrance, a cigarette in hand. Long fingers bringing the filter-tip to beautifully formed lips, a smirk emerging as Ilya’s gaze snagged on Shane. Oh fuck, Shane thought. I’m fucked. 

“Hollander,” Ilya drawled, the teasing lilt was unmistakable. “You’re late.”

Shane sighed exasperated, leaning with his hand on the wall Ilya had occupied. He took deep breaths, the running having done more harm than good, as he tried to focus. Shane couldn’t look him in the eye. It felt all too much - like everything he’d wanted, but at the same time hitting him with so much force that it left him breathless. Disoriented. 

“Yeah,” he finally managed, “sorry about that. The goddamn… subway just…,” he flicked his hand as if that would explain everything. 

Ilya nodded, and said, “you know, next time just text me. Thought you wouldn’t show up.” 

Shane’s head snapped up, and before he could think about it, he shook his head aggressively. “Fuck no, why would I when I waited so long–” 

He bit his tongue, his shoulders tensing. God, Shane must have seemed desperate. 

He shuddered when suddenly, there were fingers tracing his cheek. He finally met Ilya’s gaze and stilled. 

There was no smile, no teasing sign, just an intensity that Shane couldn’t decipher. The cinema lights reflected in Ilya’s eyes, and Shane absentmindedly noted the hues of colors splattered around them.

“Is good to know I wasn’t only one looking forward to this,” Ilya murmured, his fingers softly tracing Shane’s skin, making their way over to his hair. He could feel his ears burn as Ilya tucked a few strands behind them. 

“Let’s go,” Ilya stated, and gently took Shane’s hand. 

“Yeah,” Shane breathed and followed.

End notes: Movie-date-enthusiasts, gather! Thank you for reading <3

[kriemhildes]

Travel-Shane

Word count: 642 | Prompt: Break | @hollanovmicrofic

Tags: Married Hollanov, visiting Luca and his family in Zurich, fluff

The last time Ilya had taken the subway had been such a long while that when he stepped into the tram, it was the strangest experience. Shane was dragging him to a two-seater, a man on a mission, as the vehicle went into motion and he had to grab the back side to not fall over. 

Luca had invited both Ilya and Shane over to Switzerland, and it was their first time actually going somewhere outside of Canada and America together, as a married couple. They always spent their summers at the cottage, so having this change of pace in their lives felt weird but at the same time exciting. 

At first, Ilya was unsure whether Shane would be up for it, seeing as his husband had always been working so hard in order to “deserve” their time together at the cottage. His holy little land that he hated to leave behind, once the season started up again. 

He wasn’t prepared for the sheer excitement Shane beamed at him when Luca had proposed the idea during a team dinner. And he was even less prepared to experience the full force of travel-Shane, and everything that came with it. 

So for weeks he had been watching as Shane printed out info sheets, marked all places he wanted to visit on his maps account, had curated a list of restaurants he wanted to eat at and even coffee shops that he’d researched for the sole purpose of finding The One Good Coffee in all of Zurich. 

“Nächster Halt: Paradeplatz. Next stop: Paradeplatz.” Shane jerked his head, and without as much as a word pulled Ilya’s hand along as he went for the exit doors. 

“C’mon Ilya, we’re going to miss our connection!” 

Truly, it had been a surprising time, and Ilya couldn’t but have a smile plastered on his face ever since they stepped off the plane. 

“I think being late for five minutes is not end of world, Shane,” Ilya replied, following dutifully after his husband. 

“I know that,” Shane snapped playfully, carefully disembarking as other embarking passengers made space, waiting on the side. “It’s just - we’re meeting Luca’s parents, and I don’t want them to think we’re ‘stupid Canadians’.” His voice dropped on the last part, accentuating the horrors of being perceived as something Shane couldn’t control. 

Ilya sighed, his hand clasping Shane’s tighter, as they made their way over to the other side to catch an arriving tramline that Shane must have timed with.

They had been here for two days, and this man had already memorized where and what kind of tram would be arriving and departing at a given time - Ilya grinned even wider. 

They stepped into the tram, rode it for two more stations, until they finally disembarked a few meters away from the restaurant. 

“I don’t think they think that, Shane, they follow hockey. Honestly, they would be okey with us arriving two hours late,” Ilya finally remarked, because he knew that would grind Shane’s gears.  

Shane froze, turned around, and regarded Ilya with a satisfying, scandalized expression. “Don’t even joke about this, Ilya.”

“But is true,” Ilya laughed, now the one dragging Shane along because he knew if they arrived even a minute late, Shane would be thinking about it until midnight.

“Look, there is Luca, our boy!" Ilya waved at a table surrounded by Luca and a couple that looked surprisingly young to be his parents. 

“Now let’s go meet other parents and make fun of our boy together,” he added, catching Shane’s eyes. 

And God, Ilya should be used to it by now, but every time Shane smiled that smile, it was as if air was being punched out of his chest. All soft, warm, and full of love.

“Yeah, let’s do that,” Shane said, clinging to Ilya’s side, as they made their way over.

End note: I just think Shane would be such a cool person to go traveling with: you wouldn't have a single worry throughout the whole stay. He'd be herding everyone to the cool, hidden gems and pick out the most delicious places to eat at and then you'd be fighting him over the table to pay the bill because he'd want to pay for that too! Idk it's a head canon ig. Ilya is feasting, having him as a husband, urgh.

[kriemhildes]

Library

Word count: 718 | Prompt: Relax | @hollanovmicrofic

Tags: high-school au, Shane is class rep, Ilya is captain of the swim team, enemies to love interests??, fluff

Well, fuck. 

Shane locked eyes with Ilya Rozanov. Now that was something he wasn’t prepared for on a Saturday morning at the library. 

With a smirk, the Russian made his way over to Shane’s table. 

Shane pleaded to whatever entity that was having a joke with him to quit it. 

The table right across him had just been emptied too. God, he’d have to endure the man sitting not even four feet across his books and notes, because of course the guy was heading straight for it. How would he survive that?

“Do you ever do something other than studying, class rep?” Shane looked up, a last, silent plea sent to heaven. 

“Fancy seeing you here, Rozanov,” he answered sardonically.

Rozanov’s bag fell onto an empty seat while he pulled out a second one to sit on. Deep-sea eyes locked back onto Shane, making him squirm on his seat for a split second. 

Shane would never get used to those eyes. The way they reflected sunlight, and imbued the whole face with a serenity that Shane was never truly able to place. 

Rozanov was loud, energetic, always on the go. A true representation of a captain for their swim team. But once you observe the man, there was something lurking and cold hiding beneath the skin, placated with a teasing smile, warm eyes, attractive cheek bones, teeth that could draw blood-

Shane snapped his gaze back to his scribbled notes, his pen having dropped onto the page. He heard a soft groan across the table, but didn’t dare to look back up. 

────────────

Surprisingly, Shane was able to concentrate and get back into the flow for about an hour and a half, until he felt a foot tapping against his shin. He jerked back into reality, yanking his headphones off his ears. 

A bewildered smile split Rozanov’s face. “Fuck, sorry,” he whispered and Shane felt his shoulders relax immediately. He absentmindedly glanced over Rozanov’s side of the table and made out a few work books, an overflowing notepad and a few pens in different colors stretched across the whole surface. 

“Oh wow, you’re actually studying.” Shane regretted having said it the second it slipped out of his mouth. He saw the twitch around Rozanov’s eye, the smile dropping like water. 

“Obviously, I don’t go to library to relax and fuck around, Hollander.”

“Yes, obviously, sorry,” his voice filled with genuine regret. 

Rozanov sat back, a pen softly rolling onto his notepad as he regarded Shane for a second. He seemed to be considering something, before he leaned forward and looked at Shane conspiratorially. 

“I know you don’t like me much,” he began, followed by a protesting sound out of Shane’s throat, “but can you explain to me what this means?”

He pointed at a paragraph in one of the books, and for a second, Shane was too stunned to speak. Oh, he thought. He’s asking for my help. Ilya Rozanov is asking for my help. 

Suddenly, Shane felt hot all over. With a whole body jerk, he leaned forward - as far as he could go - reading the paragraph without comment, and then looked up to meet Rozanov’s gaze. 

Shane’s ears were ringing as he licked over his lips, his mind whirring. He explained the paragraph in simpler terms, his gaze dropping to the ink on the page, his thoughts feeling too obvious, even for himself. 

After he was done, he waited a second, and then leaned back, chancing another glance into Ilya’s face only to find a soft intensity he had never seen on him before. 

Shane’s cheeks prickled with heat, his eyes wrenching away from its cause. 

There was another tap on his shin, this time more delicate and careful. 

“Thank you, Shane.” Jesus.

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” he mumbled, his voice strained. He felt like running away. 

“Shane?” Oh God, his name coming from Rozanov’s mouth was something he did not have on his damn bingo card. 

Shane hummed, not trusting his voice. 

“You want to go have lunch together?” And who was he kidding, really. He looked up, the soft ‘yes’ slipping out without much constraint as he started packing up right away. Rozanov regarded him with a smile Shane would never admit to making him feel like he was being attacked by the sun. Never.

End note: The amount of times the strangest people came over to my library table and sat down to talk out of nowhere is astounding. Not that I didn't do that as well, but you get the gist. Thank you for reading <3

[kriemhildes]

Wine

Word count: 1585 | Prompt: Lovers | @hollanovmicrofic

Tags: sexual tension, they're both horny, and drunk on wine, continuation of "Anya" (pt.1) and "Lady" (pt.2)

When Anya had just run off into the forest, he felt his life flash past him. Hell, Anya had never done something this outrageous, so something bad must have happened. Maybe she smelled blood and someone was injured? Perhaps even worse, who knew?

He would have never thought to reach a clearing and be confronted with the embodiment of everything he was looking for in a person. The way Shane cared for Anya, patted her, made sure to put up his boundary - seeing as Ilya clearly overstepped into his territory - only to invite a complete stranger with a big dog to his small cottage at the bottom of the hill with the kindest smile and most welcome eyes Ilya had ever encountered.

Ilya couldn't remember the last time he'd felt an instant attraction like this. Couldn't remember the last time he had to hold himself back this much to not pounce on a person like an animal. He understood why Anya had done it, but he wasn't a dog. Or at least, he was praying he had himself under better control than an actual dog. Even if it was his beloved Anya. Perhaps it was Shane, the seemingly complete embodiment of the moon. Jet black hair, brown eyes, a warm and inviting smile, freckles - freckles. Fuck, Ilya never knew he could have a thing for freckles.

Ilya felt miserable. Not because he didn't like Shane - his heart definitely objected - but because for the first time in a long while, he felt his head go quiet. That's why he did his hikes in the first place. To reach a point of the world that felt more bearable. Far away from everyone and everything that seemed to always claw at the back of his head.

And now he was sitting here, watching Shane eat his rice with the precision of a master at their craft. The food was delicious, and Ilya had dug in himself, already eaten half his plate.

It had gotten dark outside, Shane had been right. Ilya had miscalculated his descent, and would have had to trudge through the snow during the night to make it back to the village in one piece.

The room was lowly lit with warm lights scattered all over the living area. The cottage seemed relatively big. He hadn't expected it to be just Shane living here. Ilya had expected a partner. The fact that Shane clearly didn't have one made it all the more difficult for Ilya. But just because there was nobody else here now didn't mean that there usually wouldn't be. Although yes, Ilya had checked, there was only Shane's pair of shoes and some slippers on the shoe rack at the front. Don't question his motives.

Ilya nibbled on a piece of vegetable, his eyes roaming, before he mustered up his courage. "So, you live here alone?"

Shane looked up from his plate, nodding. "Yeah, I got this place five years back. My parents come for visits, and I visit them regularly as well, but other than them, it's just me and Lady." He smiled and god, it had Ilya twitch.

Lady, Shane's cat, had finally calmed down and gotten used to Anya - both of them a lot more comfortable now than Ilya had expected. They were lying in front of the fireplace, the food devoured the second it was given, and now it almost seemed like both of them were dozing off. A white dog and a black cat. Ilya smiled.

"No girlfriend?"

Shane's spoon halted for a second, before resuming the movement. "No, no boyfriend."

Ilya nodded. Fuck. He bit his lip.

"How about you?" Shane asked, surprising Ilya with the sudden eye contact, the spoon laid on the table.

Ilya smiled as he leaned back slightly. "I live alone as well."

Shane hummed. "No girlfriend?"

"No," Ilya stretched the word out, "no partner."

Now Shane nodded, and it was adorable how Ilya could tell the information was being processed and categorized. The flush, however, made his throat go dry.

"Do you… want to drink some wine?"

Ilya blinked. He didn't know if alcohol was a good idea. And then he nodded. "Sure, actually. Would love to have a glass. Do you have sweet kind?" Shane's smile was devastating as he nodded once.

"Yes, well, I have a more fruity, red one -- my parents brought it over the last time they visited."

Shane got up and went to a cabinet at the wall, emerging with two wine glasses. He placed them neatly on each side, and made way his way back again. This time he opened a different door with a few bottles stationed inside. Shane grabbed the one he was looking for and snatched the cork screw before making his way back.

"If you would do us the honor," Shane said, placing the wine bottle in front of Ilya and handing him the screw. "I am shit at opening wine bottles." If he didn't stop looking at Ilya that way—

Ilya forced a smile, and he felt it stretch over his whole face. He got to his feet, cut off the foil on top and made quick work of screwing the worm into the cork. Ilya could feel Shane's gaze as he worked the bottle with a practiced hand. He looked up once discreetly and noted Shane's eyes trained on his arms, the gaze trailing Ilya's form. Ilya smirked as he jammed the fulcrum onto the glass and extracted the cork with a swift pull.

This time, Ilya faced Shane notably, placing the bottle to the side to air it out for a few minutes. He didn't sit down right away, and instead leaned slightly over the table, a hand placed on the edge to hold himself above their dinner. Ilya looked Shane directly into his eyes, knowing what kind of an effect he had on people. He licked over his lips, and preened when he noted Shane's lips falling open on a soft breath, his eyes snagged on Ilya's mouth.

"There. We wait for ten minutes then drink, yes?" Ilya asked, not breaking the intensity.

"Yes," Shane breathed, and god, this voice, those cheeks, these freckles - they all were doing things to Ilya's cock, but patience. Patience.

They finished their food and decided to drink the bottle on the sectional sofa propped against the window. It was warm, they felt sated, and Shane went to prepare them some snacks in case the alcohol made them snacky. Ilya didn't know if he should feel devastated or charmed.

Ilya poured Shane some wine first, not too much, but not too little. He did the same with his glass, rounding the bottle slightly to avoid drops. When Shane returned, he had snacks on one hand, and a towel on the other, placing it on the couch table and motioning for Ilya to place the bottle on top.

Anya was breathing heavily in front of them, knocked out by their hike earlier that day. Lady seemed to perch her ears every now and again, but had stopped checking a while ago as well.

"Well, to new acquaintances," Shane began, raising his glass to clank it onto Ilya's after he sat down a couple inches away from Ilya. Ilya smiled, repeated Shane's words and clanked the latter's glass.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

It started when they were three glasses in.

Ilya noticed Shane's knee pressing against his leg. They were both slightly tipsy - the portions of wine in their glasses becoming bigger than appropriate. Shane begun relaxing as the evening progressed, his laugh translating to his body doubling over, unable to keep himself in check.

The first time it happened, Ilya felt sparks light up where Shane had touched him. Shane had immediately retracted his hand - the tipsiness not too bad yet.

The second time it happened, he remained a few seconds longer, his hand draped over Ilya's shoulder as his laugh sounded off.

Ilya was patient. But even his patience ran out at some point. He turned his head to the fingers on his shoulder, watching them sink into the folds of Ilya's top. He could feel the slight pressure Shane applied, needing to feel Ilya's muscle beneath the fabric. Ilya's eyes traveled from the hand to Shane's face and felt his cock twitch at the half lidded gaze Shane displayed, liking what he was touching.

Before Ilya could stop his body, his hand moved, slowly, and wrapped around Shane's thigh, applying pressure once he felt the muscle beneath.

There was a hitch. Shane's fingers clawed into his shoulder. Ilya kept his gaze trained to his own hand, watching Shane's cock fill out next to it. Fuck. He could feel his own cock straining.

With an urgency Ilya rarely felt, he lifted his grasp and patted Shane's thigh quickly. He turned his head an inch from Shane's and whispered with barely contained hunger, "get on my lap."

And god damn it, Shane's eyes were glazed over, his lips red from the wine and trapped by his teeth. Without another second, he angled himself up, his second hand on Ilya's other shoulder. He placed a knee over Ilya, straddling his lap and pushed Ilya against the backrest.

It was as if something had switched off. Electricity palpable as Ilya's hands followed the curves of Shane's thighs, up his hips to his waist and back down to a trained ass.

"Fuck." Ilya's skin felt on fire, his eyes searching Shane's and without wasting another moment, their lips crashed against each other.

End note: Sorry. 400 words were not going to be enough and wouldn't have done them justice, okay! Anyways, I hope I managed to get rid of most mistakes - I wrote this in delirium caused by 3 hrs of sleep. I hope y'all are doing better catching some sleep in this heat *sigh. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it <3

[kriemhildes]

Smoke

Word count: 434 | Prompt: Emotion | @hollanovmicrofic

Tags: Shane misses Ilya, so he buys some cigarettes, and then tries his first

Shane looked down at his hand and had to swallow.

He didn't even know how to hold a cigarette, and yet there he was, sitting with a freshly bought pack in his right hand and a lighter in his left.

As he walked past the corner shop, he couldn’t help but notice, out of the corner of his eye, the brand of cigarettes Ilya liked to smoke. It had been quite a while since he’d last seen him, and somehow, thinking of Ilya made him go in.

At first, Shane hadn’t even thought about opening the pack. He just wanted to hold it in his hand every now and then. Not so he could picture Ilya in his mind - putting a cigarette to his lips, taking a drag, and blowing out the smoke - no. Because to this day, he and Ilya were nothing more than friends with benefits. Well, more like acquaintances. Shit.

He looked up at the sky. The stars were barely visible through the light pollution. If anyone saw him sitting here, it wouldn't be good at all. Fans had always pictured a role model when they thought of Shane - what would they think if they saw him now?

He closed his eyes and gripped the package more tightly.

Shane didn't smoke. He hated the smell. That nasty, scratchy feeling it left in his throat when he got a whiff of smoke from someone smoking next to him. The burning in his eyes.

And yet there he sat, toying with the idea. Why?

It was simple: he missed Ilya. So much so that it brought tears to his eyes. He missed Ilya’s lips, his gaze, the gentle way he’d turn Shane’s face toward him, just to slide his tongue down his throat. He missed the taste of Ilya’s tongue, which had a faint hint of nicotine and smoke. He missed the scent that surrounded him when Ilya pressed him against a wall with his body.

Shane blinked quickly. The next moment, he tore open the pack, slipped a cigarette between his fingers, and conjured up Ilya’s smoker’s pose in his mind. He pressed the filter to his lips, flipped the lighter so that the flame was aimed at the end, and took a drag.

For exactly one second, he felt as though Ilya were standing right in front of him. He saw the deep blue of his eyes, his faint, irritating smirk, his shiny curls. He could almost hear him say, “Hollander… what are you doing?”

The next moment, he coughed violently and spat on the floor in front of his shoes.

End notes: Yeah, I've been smoking again and ended up thinking about how Shane would probably associate the smell of cigarettes Ilya would have every now and again with Ilya himself. And how that made him crave Ilya's presence. idk, just a thought hihi

[kriemhildes]

Lady

Word count: 1723 | Prompt: Home | @hollanovmicrofic

Tags: physical attraction, fluff, domestic?, continuation of "Anya"

Lady was not pleased when they arrived at Shane's doorstep.

Anya shook out her fur outside, attempting to get the beading snow off her fur as best as she could. Lady wasn't having none of that. She hissed, loud and long, her ears folding over her head as she bared her teeth. Shane looked between Anya, who had perched her ears now, and Lady, standing inside the warm door frame, punching the snow in front of her.

Shane heard a chuckle behind him. He turned his head to notice Ilya watching the two as well, the corner of his lips quirked in endearment. He'd sat down on an elevated step in the small entrance space that lead into the inner cottage, taking off his boots. Shane quirked an eyebrow at Lady for not having reacted to Ilya invading their home. Instead she'd focused her whole mind to a dog who couldn't be behaving tamer.

"So you have cat?" Ilya asked, the answer obvious, yet Shane nodded.

"Yeah, this is Lady. She's five and usually nice around people. Not really nice to dogs, though. We've had too many come down the mountain and they… didn't always take nicely to her." Shane sighed, but ignored the war declaration Lady was communicating by buckling and pawing at the floor in front of her, blocking Anya's way in. She'd get used to her soon enough. Even if Shane had to make her, scooping her into his arms and blocking her view to Anya.

"You can leave your boots at the entrance, your jacket too," he called, already making his way past the small hallway, over to the living room, dropping Lady onto her favorite blanket on the couch. He needed to get the fire going before their heightened body warmth of their march down to the cottage would dissipate. The sun light was already dimming, and it wasn't even sun set yet.

Shane turned on the lamps around the living room, preferring lower lighting above anything else. He barely noticed the soft padding on the wooden floor, until suddenly, there was a silky voice behind him. "Can I help with something, Shane?"

Shane turned and immediately shook his head no, guiding the man over to the couch while veering over to the fireplace himself. Not a second later, Lady lounged up from her spot, hissing as Anya following close behind Ilya, the snow seemingly successfully shaken off.

Shane chuckled as he crouched in front of the fireplace, attempting to fire up some newspaper he had put aside as burning material. There was already some dry wood inside the fireplace - it just needed to be lit and cared for for a few minutes until it caught proper fire.

"I'll be done in a bit, so you can just sit, relax, maybe get something to drink, if you want. I'll warm us some dinner soon."

After a moment, a soft "okay" came as a reply, and he heard the light footsteps pivot to the kitchen.

"You want something to drink as well," Ilya called, the kitchen area being an open spaced one.

"No, I'll get something later, thank you!"

All the way back to the cottage, Shane had realized he'd never quite met anyone like Ilya. He seemed quiet, but not simply because that was his personality. He was guarded. Maybe because he didn't know Shane. But Shane suspected it be something else, having caught the one or other curious glance in his direction.

Shane had to admit that couldn't keep his eyes away for long. He didn't notice at first, but Ilya had such clear, crystal eyes that seemed to both, suck you in and push you away. His lips were artistically shaped and complimented his face, which appeared almost as if carved in stone. Golden locks made their way out his hat, and Shane remembered wondering how they must look if Ilya took his hat off. It was worse than what he'd imagined, his immediate thought being to run his hands through them.

So when he noticed his fingers slightly trembling as he put down the lit paper, he tried to calm down his clearly pent-up brain. Was he excited to see a new face? Yes. Definitely. Does this mean anything more than that? No. Definitely not. Yes, the man was attractive. Shane needed to admit it. But he was a rational man, not a touch starved animal, really, just maybe, maybe a teeny tiny bit… lonely.

He heard Anya approach his back and turned to watch her sniff the air. She made eye contact with Shane, before dropping her eyes on Lady, who was now sat next to Shane's leg, rubbing her head against his shin. He'd propped up one leg and knelt on the other for a more stable crouch in case he needed to react quickly. Anya seemed to take it as an invitation, tapping slowly forward, her snout now sniffing his thigh. And then, her head dropped on it, and Shane felt like he entered the gates of heaven.

He reached out both hands, petting Lady's head and at the same time fondling between Anya's brows to the back of her head, making her huff in relaxation. The fire in the fireplace started to crack softly, warming Shane's face as he smiled at the two animals.

The moment lasted for exactly twenty seconds, before Lady whipped her head around in renewed vigor. She jumped over Shane's other leg and pawed at Anya's face like it personally offended her. Shane took that as his cue to leave the two figuring themselves out, leaving the fireplace place and making his way over to where Ilya seemed to be: the kitchen. Only Ilya was now leaning against the kitchen isle serving as the room divider, watching Shane with a soft smile. He'd taken a coke Shane usually stored for his dad.

"Make yourself at home — grab a can whenever you feel like it," Shane said, passing Ilya. Shane made his way to the fridge, pulling out the boxes of rice and vegetables he'd precooked and stacked them on the counter. He put one box, let it heat for solid 2-3 minutes, and followed it up with another, careful not to burn his fingertips while doing so.

After a while, Shane turned around and startled when he noticed Ilya was standing right behind him, having shifted to the kitchen-side of the isle, observing Shane's hands with great interest.

"God, warn a man, jeez," Shane clutched imaginary pearls as he opened the fridge again to check on some chicken he could heat up as well. Definitely not to hide from Ilya's wide grin. And definitely not to hide the heat prickling his cheeks and ears.

"Is chicken with rice and veggies fine with you?" He asked over his shoulder, way too belatedly.

"Anything is fine as long as its not canned food. I've had too much past couple of days," Ilya chuckled to himself.

Shane smiled sympathetically, taking the plate with the chicken out the fridge and pulling off the plastic wrap. He turned on the over to preheat, before he could slide in the meat.

"Anya fine with some chicken strips?"

"Yeah, more than fine. Thank you Shane, this is really kind of you." Shane couldn't remember the last a smile had tugged this long on his face. Something was happening with his heart, and he had to will the tremble in his hands away by force. He dared not turn around, knowing it was probably written all over his face.

So instead, he kept his eyes on the food, plating the rice and vegetable after putting the chicken into the oven to warm it up. "Oh don't worry about it. I'm glad for the company," he said, and hoped his voice didn't give him away.

After a moment of silence that felt like a life time, he heard clothes rustle. "So," a low voice drawled, much too close for Shane's liking. "What do you do aside from going up the mountain and … hunt?"

"Ah," Shane responded, a small smile tugging at his lips, "No, no hunting. Just hiking. And well, I work as a soundtrack composer. For TV shows and such." He gazed to his left, locking eyes with Ilya, who had set camp against the counter.

Shane loved talking about his job - it was one of the few things where Shane could just lose himself in.

Ilya's eyes widened momentarily, his arms crossed in front of his chest, a stunned "wow" leaving his lips. "You do not look like someone who does that."

Shane let his eyes fall away, careful to not let his gaze snag on Ilya's biceps. "Yeah, I get that a lot. I've always loved music, especially when it's strung together in a way that makes your brain go," he raised his hand and snapped a perfect, resounding snap. "And then you roll it back, notice other patterns. And depending on the day and your mood the music begins to feel different."

The oven pinged, and Shane leaned down to check the chicken. It felt still a bit too cold, so he closed the oven again, and put a timer for five minutes. He caught Ilya's gaze snagging on him, but he couldn't let himself dwell on it. Not when he was still willing away his trembling hands. But Shane had to admit - it was difficult. Because why the fuck was Ilya looking at him like he was about to eat him alive.

Shane shook his head, gazing at the floor. "Anyways, that's what I've been doing the whole of my 28 years of life. How about you?"

Ilya seemed to take a moment, a deep breath resounding, and then he uncrossed his arms, leaning his hands against the counter. "Hmm," Ilya drawled, shifting where he was leaning, and maybe Shane was imagining it, but did he inch closer? "I am accountant. Of Ottawa Centaurs. Hockey team? Don't know if you're into that."

Well damn, that had Shane's attention. His eyes widened as he gazed into Ilya's, a wide smile stretching over his lips.

"No way."

Ilya's brows furrowed. "Yes?"

"My parents dragged me to every game when I was younger, and I've been a huge fan since!"

How were the stars aligning for Shane to be able to experience this day?

End note: I know this feels like scraps - sorry. Idk how hot it is where you live, but I hope you're staying safe and hydrated! The next couple of weeks will be quite turbulent for me, which is why I'll probably be only posting sporadically, sorry. But for now, I have another post lining up, and am working on the 3rd chap. of AB. As always, thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it <3