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It's late Wednesday night when he sees it. He and Shane cooked dinner together after practice, and enjoyed it at the dining room table before crashing onto the couch, Shane with a book in his hands, Ilya entertaining himself on his phone. Usually they'd watch a movie, but there is nothing distinct that catches either of their attention, so to TikTok it is.
Ilya's got maybe an unhealthy obsession with TikTok. He's posted a few himself, each one exploding with hundreds of thousands of likes, and the dopamine hit of it is nice. He has a burner account for general perusing, and tonight he's just swiping through videos, his attention spread between TikTok and Shane's feet in his lap. With his free hand he rubs at the ball of Shane’s foot, applying some pressure as he scrolls to the next video. Immediately the sound of Sabrina Carpenter’s new song blasts from his phone, and he looks at the made up woman on the screen, brow scrunched together as he watches her swing her purse in time to the sound of a whip on the backtrack of ‘Nobody’s Son.’ for a moment he just stares, then he looks at the hashtags and gasps, shooting up from his reclined position.
“What?” Shane startles, and tugs his legs under himself to avoid being sat on as Ilya scoots in closer to him.
“I know her!” Ilya squawks as he brandishes his phone, holding it out so Shane can see. The woman is gorgeous with dark hair, a smattering of freckles, and an ethnicity that seems to mirror Shane’s. “Look at the hashtags,” Ilya instructs, and Shane does, his eyes darting over the text and stopping when he reads ‘#IlyaRozanov’ as the first listed tag.
“Oh my God,” Shane breathes. He studies the woman for another moment before doubling over with laughter.
“Is not funny Shane!” Ilya gripes as he clicks on the comments and scrolls through. There are hundreds of them, and the video already has thousands of likes. He remembers this woman – one of his regulars he hooked up with in New York when they were in town. And apparently she hasn't forgotten him, either. Many of the comments are speculating on his relationship with this woman – Eva, he remembers – and some of the comments are… not the nicest. He never was bad to the women he hooked up with, but he definitely was never committed either, and as much as he hates to admit it – he gets where she's coming from. He was never emotionally available to them, and he's sure he strung some of them along for his own gain.
Eva was probably one of them.
From his spot on the couch, Shane leans over and rests his head on Ilya’s shoulder, despite the fact that he's still chuckling. “It's kinda funny, Ilya,” he teases as he presses a kiss to his husband's shoulder and looks back to the phone screen. “Click on your hashtag, let's see if any other women are chiming in,” Shane jokes.
Ilya does, and is relieved to find mostly hockey edits, along with some edits of Shane and him. Ilya goes back to his for you page and they scroll together, curled up on the couch and content.
“You know that doesn't make you a bad guy, right?” Shane asks quietly, and Ilya pauses the TikTok, then leans back into the couch cushions, setting his phone aside as he wraps his arms around Shane. He thinks for a moment, and really examines how that video made him feel – kind of like scum, if he's being honest.
“You are right,” Ilya says with a sigh and a shrug. Because… he really hadn't ever thought about the women's side of things. He'd never been committed, sure, but he always thought he made it relatively clear he wasn't looking for anything. He wonders if maybe he should DM her an apology, but that just seems like opening a can of worms that's better left shut.
They're silent for another few moments before Shane clears his throat. “So… are we not gonna talk about how she looks like the female version of me?”
Ilya laughs at that, head falling back, hand covering his eyes. He shakes his head and reaches for a pillow, which he lightly hits Shane with. “There is nothing to talk about,” he teases as he thumps Shane with the pillow again. “She looks nothing like you.”
Shane pushes his book aside and settles himself in Ilya's lap, wrapping his arms around his husband's neck and pressing kisses along Ilya's jaw. “Uh-huh, sure,” Shane mumbles into Ilya's skin, his smile pressed there, too.
“I'm so glad it was me you chose,” Shane breathes, and Ilya wraps his arms around Shane's ass and hauls them both off of the couch, to Shane's surprise.
“That's it, Hollander. I have to ravage you now,” Ilya's words are mock serious as he hauls Shane into their bedroom, depositing him on their bed.
“Alright then, Ilya. Ravage me,” Shane laughs, and he presses his grin to Ilya's lips as they fall together. Nothing could ever be better than this, Ilya is sure of it.