okay so obviously i love shane gaining weight after retirement but now im thinking about a shane who was always meaty and chunky his whole life… ilya meeting him outside the rink and being a little shocked bc he hadn’t imagined that THE shane hollander, young superstar phenomenon, would have such rounded cheeks, so much softness gathered under his chin, so much obvious girth around his middle, noticeable even through his winter jacket… ilya hates to admit it later but it does make him underestimate shane a little. that’s quickly changed when they play their first game and shane is an absolute BEAST on the ice, handling his bulk such a fluid speed and momentum that ilya immediately understands why everyone who knows anything about hockey says that shane is about to become the best in the league. but then the draft happens. and boston picks ilya first. and their statement says something like “we could tell just by looking at him that ilya was the kind of player we want for our team.” and ilya stands beside shane for the picture, can feel the disappointment and anger rolling off shane in waves, and when they’re handed out their jerseys for the photograph ilya catches someone say “sure that one will be big enough for Hollander?” to an audience of laughter, and when ilya slides a glance left he finds shane’s cheeks gone pink, his eyes wet with fury and embarrassment as he holds up his fingers for number two.
that night ilya can’t sleep, so he goes down to the gym. hollander is already there. hollander is there in a tight white compression shirt that leaves very, very little to the imagination, and ilya grips the handles of his bike and tries not to dart too many glances at the way the shirt clings to the thick cushion of shane’s biceps. then they’re off the bikes, panting together on the floor, ilya’s eyes drawn inexorably to the way shane’s stomach heaves as he catches his breath. the shirt is so tight around shane’s belly that ilya can see the clear outline of his deepset navel, the fabric clinging to the soft rolls that have formed when he sat down. ilya shakes his water bottle at him for something to do, and when shane reluctantly accepts ilya drinks in the sight of shane’s thick rounded thighs rubbing together as he shifts positions, the fat bulge of his dick visible beneath the slight hang of his soft gut. shane leans forward again to return the water bottle, and the movement makes the shirt ride up, exposing an inch of smooth, plush belly. shane immediately turns pink and yanks his shirt back down, but ilya is already so hard in his gym shorts that he comes almost immediately after getting back to his hotel room.
ilya gets asked to do the CCM shoot. they ask if he has a suggestion for another player to do it with, and of course he immediately suggests shane. the marketing team glance around at each other, weird about it. “what?” ilya demands, and the campaign director responds delicately that they’re not sure if hollander really has the look they want to represent with their brand. “he is exceptional hockey player, and your brand sells hockey gear. where is problem?” ilya responds bluntly, and the team can’t find a way to refute him.
after the shoot, ilya heads to the showers, and hollander is already there. he hasn’t noticed ilya yet, and ilya drinks in the naked breadth of him, the body he’s jacked off to just imagining nearly every night. and shane is even better in reality. the ass ilya’s ogled through pants is even fatter and rounder when it’s bare, his thighs so thick and wide he’s almost pear-shaped. and his belly. gorgeously plump and soft beneath his broad muscular chest, the plush lower curve marked with silvery stretch marks, his hips curved with thick love handles. ilya watches as shane nonchalantly lifts up his belly to wash the crease underneath, and ilya gets so hard it’s nearly painful.
when ilya gets into the shower, shane’s whole body blushes, the prettiest pink blooming across his soft tanned skin, and there’s no way ilya can hide the way he’s staring. shane notices, of course, and his cheeks flush darker. “fuck off,” he says, eyes downcast but defiant. “if you’re going to chirp me about my weight just know i’ve already heard it all.”
ilya’s hand is on his dick at this point, throbbing so hard that he can’t help palming himself for some relief. “ah, no,” he says, and now he feels his own face growing hot. “insulting you, this is not what i wish to do with you.”
shane throws him a look, and finally notices ilya’s erection. the hand rubbing again and again on ilya’s cock.
shane swallows audibly. “oh,” he says.
