Work Text:
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1. Practice
Shane sighs as he watches Ilya circle and chirp around their teammates, his gaze stern yet fond as Ilya laughs and smiles. He almost feels bad for having to ruin the relaxed mood but their next game is against Montreal and frankly? Shane is not ready for it.
When he sees Ilya nearly trip over his own skate and Barrett and Hayes laugh at (and with) him, Shane’s heart just about drops out of his ass and he’s in protective boyfriend/ Co-Captain mode.
“Rozanov! Quit messing around! You too guys!”
Ilya stops laughing but his grin is plastered onto his face, even as he does a slow circle around Shane in a teasing “what are you going to do” manner. Shane, too nervous about their performance and keyed up by his boyfriend’s playfulness, Shane gives Ilya his best “angry kitten face” and a stern “Now”.
Ilya immediately comes to a stop right next to Shane and stands straight, saying nothing but everything at the same time. His gaze is soft yet worrying, even if his body is relaxed and ready for orders even though Shane is his alternative captain.
They ignore the team’s playful whistles and chirps about Ilya immediately obeying him.
“Hollzy got that little shit locked down!”
That makes Ilya break his stance and throw himself at Bood who made the chirp - “I am not little shit, you are!”
“Guys!”
The two stop wrestling but still giggle even when Shane talks.
—-…
2. Game
The Jumbotron showcases Shane seemingly reprimanding a bruised up and bleeding Ilya with a shit eating grin who was currently stuck in the sin bin for five minutes for instigating and being in a fight.
Nothing new. But in a game that quite literally will kill Shane if they lose? Against Montreal?
“Really, Ilya? I specifically told you not to start shit.”
Ilya raises his hand and pouts as he tilts his head “Ah, technically I did not start. I finish. Da?”
Shane scoffs but in good nature, “Don’t give me that shit, Roz. Give me one reason why I shouldn’t let coach bench your ass.”
Ilya gasps, a tad bit dramatic that almost made Shane snort.. if it wasn’t for the fact that the crowd laughed.
“You will not do such thing! Team needs me out there!”
“The team doesn’t need you in the box either. I do not need you in here when I need you out there with me.”
Everyone sees Ilya crumble and give Shane his best sulky face and start to beg for forgiveness with his hands in a praying action.
“I’m sorry, моя любовь. Forgive me, yes? Will not do again. Unless in good reason.”
“Ilya!”
“What? They deserve good beat up, no?”
The whistle blows for the time up.
Shane sighs and shakes his head as he rises from the side of the sin bin.
“Come on, you idiot.” He opens the door for Ilya, who went back to smirking and lent down to knock his helmet against Shane’s.
“Your idiot. I am forgiven?”
Teasingly, Shane grabs at Ilya’s helmet and checks to see if they’re still on the Jumbotron before dragging Ilya down onto the ice, his cheeks heating up at the cheers from their team and fans.
Once in position, Shane pulls Ilya down for another knock. “Win more goals than me, win for me, and you’ll get more than forgiveness tonight.”
Ilya’s whole demeanor brightens and he immediately heads for the face off.
Montreal loses 4-1.
—-…
3. Party
If Ilya was being honest, he did not want to party.
He’d rather be snuggled up in Shane’s warmth while his pretty and boring boyfriend reads his boring little book. But he can’t deny some cheap ass drinks.
“Ilya, don’t forget we have dinner with mom and dad tonight. And knowing dad he has some fallacy new vodka for you to try. So try not to drink so much, okay?”
Well there goes his plan for getting shit-faced. Damn. He wanted Shane to nurse him from his horrible hangover and get nagged for drinking too much.
Ilya takes one look at Shane’s cute face and pursed lips for his want for multiple shots to die down.
“Yes, моя любовь. I understand. I will get shit-faced in comfortable boring Hollander home.”
It warms Ilya’s body to watch Shane smirk and scoff, more than any cheap or expensive drink he’s ever had.
So here they are an hour later, Ilya sitting at a small table nursing one beer while Shane sits so prettily while having his usual ginger ale. Though this one has a little cherry that Ilya immediately took and made Shane blush as he tied the stem with his tongue.
Shane is more tempting and addicting than anything Ilya’s ever tried.
Though he’s true to his word and does get absolutely drunk after dinner— Shane had to stop him from spilling out their sex life to his parents.
—-…
4. Just wow
“Hey, has anyone seen Cap and Hollzy?”
A chorus of no’s echo throughout the locker room.
Bood frowns and hums, wondering where their lovely captains went. “They’re almost always the last ones to leave…”
“Oh! I saw them head for the meeting room.. the smaller one, not the big one. If that helps?”
Bood turns from his locker to look at their rookie, Young, before replaying what he just heard.
“Meeting room… small one.. not big one.. wow.”
“What?”
Oh, you sweet summer child.
With a devilish smirk on his face, Bood looks at every single teammate.
“Who wants to go sneak up on the couple and probably regret doing so!!”
Another chorus echoed, this time full of yes’s— minus a few of the veterans and those who just want to get home. Smart choice, honestly.
A few minutes later, Bood has Hayes, Haas, Barrett, Young, Lapointe, Holmberg, Chouinard, Dykstra, and even Dillion following him towards the small meeting room that anyone barely used.
Correction: Only used if you were too horny to wait until you’re home.
They all look like sneaky kids waiting for their mom to walk away so they could steal from the cookie jar, but what they hear feels far from it.
“I didn’t get to touch you all day, моя любовь! Please, baby? Please let me touch you?”
Ilya fucking Rozanov begging Shane fucking Hollander to touch him… wow.
Bood hears a choked out sound and a slap of a face before another slap was heard, but from the room.
Shane’s voice was heard next, stern and flirtatious, “No, Ilya. You know the reason why you can’t touch. Do you want me to tell you again?”
Shivers went down everyone’s spine.
“Do not want to be Roz..”
“Shh!”
A low whimper was given, along with a groan.
“No, Shane! I know why, baby. I’m sorry! Won’t happen again!”
A scoff.
“Yeah. It better fucking not, Rozanov. I’m not playing with you.”
A gasp and then a moan that sounds a little pained.
“ что за хрень!! Shane— Baby, please!”
“Guys, I think we should-“
“No, my love. You’ve been bad.”
“Leave..”
A whine, high pitched and needy.
“No! I’ll be good- Good boy, yes? Good boys get reward, right Shane?”
“Well, Good boys certainly don’t deserve a reward when they openly play with the vibrator when their owner is fucking busy. Do they?”
A tense silence is the jump start to the team’s bodies, each of them slowly turning away from the door to walk away. But those closest to the door get more than what they bargained for.
Another loud slap and a whine makes all of them startle and wince.
“Fucking answer me, Ilya.”
“That’s it! Leave, leave!!”
The next day, Shane is confused when everyone listens to him on the first try. Nor does he get any eye contact from them besides Ilya who’s just as confused.
—-…
5. The media
“Uh, Shane! How does winning- oh! Okay-“
Shane loudly sighs as the poor reporter is bombarded in the face (and camera) by a sweaty and topless Ilya Rozanov, a huge grin and bright eyes shining.
“Feels amazing, yes?! Winning three games in a row? WHOO! My Shane is the best player of hockey- besides me of course! Though in bed he-“
“Okay- Ilya, that’s enough.”
Shane smiles awkwardly and says sorry before pulling Ilya away from the reporters and towards him, but the man is so slick (literally and figuratively) that he slips from Shane’s hold easily.
And he’s off terrorizing other reporters.
“I-ILYA ROZANOV!”
All cameras catch Shane running after Ilya who just cackles and makes his poor boyfriend chase him around. That was until the miracle called Wyatt Hayes stopped him from getting further away.
Shane nearly crashes into Ilya and pants, face red from both exertion and embarrassment.
“Move, Hazy!”
“Nah, I’m good. And please put a shirt on.”
“Thank you so much, Hayes. Ilya. Shirt on. Now.”
Begrudgingly, Ilya pulls his shirt on and stares at Shane with a “happy?” look. And he tries to book it again.
But Shane uses his new shirt as leverage to pull Ilya back with a stern “down, boy” and that makes Ilya freeze.
His face is in shock, ears red, and eyes blown as Shane manhandles him into place right next to him and tightly holds him down by the shoulders. The blush is intensifying when Shane gives Ilya a kiss on the corner of his dropped jaw.
An innocent smile is on Shane’s face.
“We can continue now.”
They break the internet an hour later.
—-…
1. Explanation
Shane is just about to have a fucking heart attack in front of 25 or so repeaters and then some.
And it’s all because of Ilya. And the question:
“Ilya! How does it feel to be named the MHL’s biggest “simp”?”
His poor, poor Ilya looks so confused and maybe a little insulted.
“What is simp? Shrimp?”
Shane stifles a giggle.
“It means to be excessively attentive and submissive towards a romantic partner. Like obsessed with someone.”
“Ah!”
Oh no. He has that mischievous expression on his disgustingly handsome face.
Shane gets ready for his upcoming doom.
“Yes! I agree. I am simp. Submissive? No. That is all Shane.”
“ILYA! Oh my God.”
“So you wouldn’t do anything that he asks of you?”
Ilya makes a confused sound.
“No, I would. He could ask me to jump off cliff and I would.”
“It’s “how high”.”
“Huh?”
“You’re supposed to ask “how high” and I would never tell you to jump off a cliff, you idiot.”
“Hmm- okay? But I would jump. Shh, let me have this.”
Shane rolls his eyes.
“So do you think you’re submissive?”
Immediately, Ilya opens his mouth.
“I’m the sense that you’d do anything Shane says. Not in the… well, the way you’re thinking.”
Happier, Ilya agrees.
“Yes! Come on, guys. Pay attention!! I do whatever моя любовь says! But in bed,
Shane’s the sub-“
“Ilya Rozanov.”
Ilya sheepishly smiles and shrugs.
Laughs ring out the room before another question is asked.
“Fans say that Shane has you wrapped around his fingers or that you’re tied in a metaphorical leash. Some speculate that you’re uncomfortable with the “leash”. What do you say to that?”
“Uh, no? что за хрень? I am fine! I am right where I want to be!! I love being wrapped around Shane’s cute fingers! And leash! Must not forget leash, right Малыш?”
Shane’s face is burning hot and red, but he gives a shaky nod. He takes a breath too.
“Значит, ты моя кошечка, а я твой щенок? Да?”
He then chokes on air and tries not to think about how someone else chokes on air as well.
Shane just smiles and pats at Ilya’s hand.
“Sure, honey.”
The pet name has Ilya beaming brighter than the sun.
“Maybe we get actual leash? You know, to make it real and not … meta-whatever.”
“Okay, you’re done.”
…
