Boltie



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    “Hollander,” Ilya replied stiffly, trying his best to school his tone. “You never call me.”

    “I need–nngh–“ he panted out.

    Ilya froze, all of the questions in his head like “What are you doing?” and “Why are you calling me?” and “Why haven’t we spoken in so long?” immediately dissipating because that didn’t matter, not when it sounded like–

    “Are…are you touching yourself, Hollander?” Ilya asked, voice dropping low.

    “N-no,” Shane whimpered and fuck he missed hearing him like this. His thready breaths alone made Ilya grab at his sheets, his dick immediately perking up in interest. “I’m not–I’m not touching. I’m–fuck–”

    “You’re what?” Ilya demanded. “Finish the sentence.”

    “I’m humping a pillow.” The admission hung heavy in the air, and for a split second, Ilya lost all ability to speak.

    Shane Hollander wakes up with a vagina and can't get himself off. He calls the one person who can help him.

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    21 Jun 2026

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    "Well, Hollander. Winner gets to choose what we get up to tonight, as agreed, yes?"
    "Yes," he grumbles. Shane pulls his shirt off over his head in one move, folding it on the counter. "Where do you want me?"
    "For what? You think I want to fuck you?"
    "Uh...yes?"
    Rozanov gives an exaggerated stretch. "But I worked so hard out there, beating lovely Montreal asses. I'm tired. I think I will lie down and let you do work tonight."
    "You..." Shane's brain short-circuits. "Me do work?"
    "Yes, Hollander."
    "You want me to ride you?"
    "No," he says softly. "I want you to fuck me."

    Dom from the bottom Ilya x sub from the top Shane, in the ep4 montage situationship era

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    20 Jun 2026

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    “What did you think, captain?” Casey asks.

    Shane leans forward, leaning slightly into Ilya and making it even harder to concentrate on their conversation instead of getting lost in the woodsy smell and presence of Shane Hollander.

    “I think–” Shane’s voice is a little sultry; the beers and shots truly are doing a number on him already, and it’s making the hairs on Ilya’s arms stand up. “–Rozanov has once again proven why he is one of the best in our league.”

    Ilya wants to turn his head towards Shane, but his entire body jolts forward when he feels a hand coming to rest on his thigh underneath the table. He lets out an audible ‘oof’ and tries to desperately play it off when their teammates throw him a confused look.

    Ilya makes a throw away gesture. “Hollander is being way too nice.”

    “If I was you I’d enjoy it while it lasts,” Cliff Marlow says, with a shit-eating grin.

    OR: Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov attend the Florida All-Stars after party, post Rose break-up and post Tampa Bay bar scene.

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    17 Jun 2026

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    The thing about sex with Ilya Rozanov is that Shane can’t chill out about it.

    The predator that lurks under his skin is unable to settle, fighting endlessly against his hands, his touch, the feeling of his fingers curling at the nape of his neck. It's always a fight, even when Shane tries to be good, some sharp-tongued creature stirring in his chest, his instincts fired up and honed on the ice.

    Ilya, he thinks, enjoys it.

    OR: Shane's rut arrives. So does his bloodthirstiness. And, even worse, his honesty.

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    16 Jun 2026

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    Shane’s brain cycled rapidly through a half-dozen celebrities, porn actors, Grindr profiles, every attractive bartender who’d ever served him a beer, trying to find a comparison for this level of outrageously concentrated beauty in one person, but he was drawing a blank.

    The man—Ilya Rozanov, Facilities Attendant, his badge read—gestured around the supply closet. “I help you find something?”

    --
    Canon-divergent AU set during the 2017-18 MLH season. Shane Hollander doesn’t have a single Cup to his name when he meets a very hot and very annoying janitor who works at the Metros stadium.

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    14 Jun 2026