#rozy.txt

[hollandersrozy]

something i think about often is book shane forgetting he has a girlfriend in the beginning because he’s just that entranced by this russian asshole. like genuinely every interaction with ilya rewires his brain a little more until one day he remembers, oh right. there’s technically a woman waiting for me back home, and then he almost immediately breaks up with her because there was absolutely no saving that situation once ilya rozanov entered the picture.

and now i really want shane to vaguely hint at her in season two, casually, not even thinking about it, and ilya just completely derailing over it.

“wait,” ilya says suddenly, turning toward him with narrowed eyes. “you had girlfriend when we met?”

shane immediately realizes his mistake. “well— yeah, technically, but—”

“oh my god.” ilya stares at him like he’s just confessed to vehicular manslaughter. “i took you from her?”

“well no, ilya, it wasn’t really work—”

“so i am asshole all along.” he presses a hand dramatically to his chest. “who is this woman? i’ll give you back.”

except he’s grinning already, fighting laughter, and there’s absolutely no sincerity in it because ilya would rather die in the street than willingly hand shane over to another person.

“god, no, ilya, jesus, stop.”

“she must have been so heartbroken,” ilya continues mournfully, fully committed to the bit now. “poor woman. i ruin relationship. i destroy love.”

“ilya—”

“she probably still thinks of me. mysterious russian man who seduced boyfriend away.”

“I DON’T THINK SHE’S LOOKING FOR A REPEAT PERFORMANCE.”

that makes ilya pause. then slowly, dangerously, his mouth curls.

“ah,” he says knowingly. “so she is like first rose landry.”

shane makes the most wounded noise imaginable. “you are never letting that go, are you?”

“absolutely not.” ilya looks delighted with himself. “this is the funniest thing i’ve ever heard.”

and the worst part is shane can’t even argue because technically ilya did accidentally steal him away through the power of being unbearably hot and deeply irritating at the exact same time.

[hollandersrozy]

part of me genuinely believes that Alexei and Ilya didn’t always hate each other. honestly, I think they were probably incredibly close when they were kids. protective of each other, even. people tend to look at their relationship through the lens of who they became as adults, but I don’t think that’s where the story starts. yeah, Ilya played hockey from a young age. yeah, he was good at it. yeah, it brought attention. but hockey wasn’t Alexei’s thing, so I don’t think it would’ve mattered much to him at first. they were just brothers. two boys growing up in the same house, with the same mother and father, navigating the same family.

and then Irina died. that’s the point where everything starts to go bad. because Grigori suddenly had all this anger, grief, and disappointment with nowhere to put it, and he chose Ilya as the target. the hockey prodigy. the son who could still be molded into something. and I imagine part of Alexei knew it was wrong. maybe part of him even wanted to protect Ilya from it.

but at the same time, all he could see was that their father was still paying attention to Ilya. it didn’t matter that it was cruel attention. it didn’t matter that it came in the form of criticism, pressure, and impossible expectations. to a neglected child, attention is attention. and meanwhile Alexei is standing on the outside looking in, grieving the same mother, losing the same father in a different way, and watching all of the focus continue to fall on his younger brother. that’s where I think the jealousy starts. not because Ilya did anything wrong, but because grief makes people irrational. because children don’t always understand that abuse and favoritism aren’t the same thing. because sometimes it’s easier to resent the person standing next to you than the parent who failed you both.

and then years pass. one brother becomes a hockey superstar. one brother struggles financially. one gets opportunities, money, fame, and a life beyond Russia. the other stays behind. and all those childhood wounds that never healed get layered over with adult resentment until neither of them really knows where one feeling ends and the other begins.

but even now, I still don’t think they hate each other. I think they hate what happened to them. I think they hate the years they lost. I think they hate that every conversation comes loaded with decades of jealousy, guilt, grief, and misunderstanding. I think there’s a part of both of them that wishes things could go back to before Irina died, before their father turned the house into a battleground, before they stopped being brothers and started becoming symbols of everything the other one lacked.

I think this ties into why Ilya “dislikes” Hayden so much. because Hayden is basically a brother to Shane. he’s probably the person Shane is closest to in the hockey world outside of Ilya himself. there’s trust there, loyalty, history. the kind of brotherhood that comes naturally when you’ve grown up alongside someone. and I think Ilya is deeply envious of that. not because he wants Shane and Hayden apart, but because every time he sees them together, he’s being reminded of something he lost. he’s looking at a version of brotherhood that survived adulthood, survived conflict, survived life, and he can’t relate to it anymore. so instead of acknowledging that hurt, he directs it at Hayden. it’s easier to roll his eyes, make snarky comments, and act annoyed than it is to admit that seeing Shane and Hayden together reminds him of what he and Alexei could have been if their family hadn’t fallen apart.

maybe there’s fear there, too. because the only brotherhood Ilya really knows is the one he had with Alexei. the one that started with love and ended with resentment. the one that slowly corroded under years of grief and jealousy until neither of them knew how to fix it. so maybe part of him looks at Hayden and worries that one day Shane will be hurt the way he was. that Hayden will disappoint him. betray him. resent him. because that’s the framework Ilya has for what happens to brothers. not because Hayden has ever given him a reason to think that, but because Alexei did. and when your entire understanding of family is shaped by loss, sometimes it’s hard to believe that other people get to keep theirs.

[hollandersrozy]

i finally convinced my best friend — who genuinely only watches One Piece and maybe Supernatural if the stars align — to watch Heated Rivalry with me last night. we proceeded to binge the entire thing. and they got emotional over exactly two scenes and two scenes only. the first was Ilya’s monologue in Russian. “OH MY FUCKING GOD, HE’S CONFESSING IN RUSSIAN AND SHANE HAS NO IDEA.” completely devastated. hands on head. pacing. the whole experience. the second was Irina. “SHE WOULD HAVE LOVED YOU LIKE I LOVE YOU??? OH KATIE, THIS IS TWISTED.” again, emotionally destroyed.

everything else? they were mostly just fascinated by the absolute, unparalleled freakiness of Shane Hollander. every little thing he did was met with increasing delight. they ate that shit UP. by the end of the night they were sitting there going, “okay, i get it now.” that’s all i wanted. the agenda succeeded. the propaganda worked. mission accomplished. 🫡

[hollandersrozy]

ilya’s whispered “more” while shane’s nursing that water bottle in episode 1? lethal. i’m deceased. ive died dead. the subtext isn’t even subtext it’s just fucking text. he’s basically commanding shane to swallow his fluids. watching those stray drops hit shane’s lip while ilya watches like a starving predator? absolute cinema. i need to lie down.

[hollandersrozy]

[hollandersrozy]

shane biting ilya shane biting ilya shane biting ilya shane biting ilya shane biting ilya shane biting ilya shane biting ilya shane biting ilya shane biting ilya shane biting ilya shane biting ilya shane biting ilya shane biting ilya shane biting ilya shane biting ilya shane biting ilya SHANE BITING ILYA

[hollandersrozy]

hudson has the cutest little sharp fangs, and now i can’t stop thinking about shane biting ilya whenever he gets the chance. not even always in a sexual way, just this constant need to use his mouth, like he doesn’t know what to do with himself otherwise. it’s an oral fixation in the most obvious sense, always chewing on something, lips pressed to skin, teeth grazing wherever he can reach. and ilya lets him, mostly. pretends to be annoyed about it, rolls his eyes, calls him ridiculous—but he never actually stops him. especially when they’re sprawled on the couch, some movie playing that neither of them are really paying attention to. shane’s tucked into his side, half on top of him, head resting on ilya’s shoulder like that’s just where it belongs. and after a while shane just shifts. tilts his head. finds that spot in the crook of ilya’s neck. and bites. not hard enough to actually hurt, not really, but enough that those sharp little fangs press in, enough that ilya feels it. hisses low under his breath, his hand tightening instinctively where it’s resting on shane’s thigh. “jesus, hollander—” but shane just hums against his skin, like he didn’t even hear him, like he’s too busy with the way his teeth sink in, the way he can feel ilya’s pulse there, warm and steady under his mouth. he lingers, presses in just a little more before easing off, lips brushing over the spot like an afterthought. when he pulls back, there are marks. clear as anything. little crescent imprints, sharp and precise, sitting right there in the hollow of ilya’s neck. honestly, he probably would be completely fine with ilya getting them tattooed there.

[hollandersrozy]

i was at a heated rivalry dance party the other night. found myself dancing with this cute little boy i had just met (who had deemed himself my new gay best friend, apparently) and i had a thought about shane and ilya meeting for the first time in a club. college party turned real club, none of that sticky frat house bullshit. hayden finally manages to drag shane out of their dorm, promises him something better, something worth putting on real clothes for, and shane goes mostly to shut him up. the place is packed. like, shoulder-to-shoulder, nowhere to move without brushing against someone else kind of packed. the air is hot, humid with sweat and perfume. shane already kind of hates it. too loud, too close, too much. but hayden shoves a drink into his hand and tells him to loosen up. first a beer, something easy. then something stronger, something sweet that burns on the way down. he makes a face at the first sip, but hayden just laughs and orders another. and then another. and by the third or fourth drink, shane’s not really thinking about the taste anymore. he drifts toward the dance floor without really deciding to. ends up near the front, close enough to the dj that the bass feels like it’s inside his chest. his eyes slip closed. his body starts moving without him thinking about it. hips rolling, shoulders loose, head tipped back just enough. his hands come up, dragging over his own chest, down his sides, like he needs something to hold onto. there’s someone behind him. he doesn’t notice at first, not really. just another body in a room full of bodies. but then there are hands sliding up from his hips, spreading over his stomach, fingers splayed like they belong there. a chest presses against his back, solid and warm, and suddenly the space feels a lot smaller. shane hums, low in his throat, more instinct than thought. his head tips back just a little further, enough that he can feel breath against his ear. “shame to be dancing alone.” he thinks its a russian accent? definitely thick and so incredibly sexy. he doesn’t turn around. not yet. just leans back into it, into him, lets those hands move like they’re mapping him out. up his ribs, down his sides, settling briefly at his hips. his own hand reaches back, almost blindly, searching until it finds something solid. jaw, stubble, the edge of a cheek. then higher. his fingers slip into hair. ohh curly. very curly. damp with sweat, soft and thick between his fingers. he tugs, just a little. there’s a quiet sound behind him, something like a breath catching, and shane can’t even tell if he said anything out loud or if it’s all just happening in his head. eventually, he turns. the guy is unreal. sharp jaw, heavy-lidded eyes, lips curved into something that’s not quite a smile but close enough to feel dangerous if shane thinks about it for too long. he’s looking at shane like he already knows exactly what he’s doing to him. “jesus,” shane breathes, and it slips out before he can stop it. the guy’s mouth twitches. “hmm,” he murmurs, leaning in just enough that shane feels it again, that heat, that closeness. “no. just ilya.” shane swallows, repeats it like he needs to feel it in his mouth. “ilya.” and then he smiles that small, soft, almost shy kitten smile thing that doesn’t match the way his body’s already leaning back in and slides an arm up around ilya’s neck, pulling them chest to chest this time. and he doesn’t stop dancing.