Work Text:
Shane notices it first during breakfast.
Ilya is hunched over his phone at the kitchen island, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. His coffee sits untouched, going cold, while his thumbs fly across the screen with the kind of focus he usually reserves for game tape.
“What’s so funny?” Shane asks, sliding a plate of eggs in front of him.
Ilya doesn’t look up. “Nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing.”
“Is just stupid internet thing.” Ilya’s mouth twitches. He’s definitely lying.
Shane leans over his shoulder, but Ilya immediately tilts the phone away. “Ilya-”
“Is private!”
“Since when do you have private things on your phone that I can’t see?” Shane reaches for it, but Ilya holds it against his chest like it contains state secrets.
“Since now.” Ilya’s eyes are dancing with mischief. “You trust me, yes?”
“That’s literally never a good sign.”
Ilya grins and kisses him quickly before returning to his phone. Shane watches him for another moment — the way his tongue pokes out slightly when he’s concentrating, the little huffs of amusement — and decides to let it go. For now.
Three days later, Hayden calls.
“What the fuck is your husband doing?”
Shane is in the Centaurs’ locker room, getting dressed after practice. “Hello to you too. I’m good, thanks for asking.”
“Shane.” Hayden’s voice is tight. “I’m serious. What is Rozanov doing?”
“Right now? Probably annoying someone. Why?”
“Have you seen AO3 lately?”
Shane pauses with his shirt halfway over his head. “Have I—what? Why would I be on AO3?”
“Oh my god.” Hayden makes a strangled sound. “You don’t know.”
“Don’t know what?”
“There’s a fic. About me.”
Shane pulls his shirt down and sits on the bench. “Okay? There are probably lots of fics about you. You’re an NHL player. Comes with the territory.”
“This one is different.”
“How?”
Hayden is quiet for a long moment. “It’s called ‘Minor League, Minor Skills: The Hayden Pike Story.’”
Shane feels a smile tugging at his mouth. “Oh no.”
“It’s about me getting waived and sent down to the ECHL. To the Trois-Rivières Lions.”
“That’s actually kind of-”
“The summary says, and I quote: ‘Fourth-line mediocrity Hayden Pike finally ends up where he belongs: in a league where his complete lack of skill won’t be as noticeable. Spoiler alert: it’s still noticeable.’”
Shane is definitely grinning now. “And you think Ilya wrote this?”
“The author’s name is DefinitelyNotRozanov81.”
Shane loses it. He’s laughing so hard he nearly drops his phone.
“It’s not funny!” But Hayden is starting to laugh too, the bastard. “There’s a whole scene where my wife has to comfort me while I cry into my participation trophy!”
“Did you read the whole thing?”
“Of course I read the whole thing! It’s only 2,000 words and extremely well-written for something so deliberately insulting. There are footnotes, Shane. Footnotes explaining my terrible stats.”
Shane wipes his eyes. “I’ll talk to him.”
“Will you? Because there’s also-” Hayden cuts himself off.
“Also what?”
“Nothing. Never mind.”
“Hayden.”
“There might be another one. Posted yesterday.”
Shane’s stomach does a weird flip. “What’s it about?”
“I’m not telling you that.”
“Hayden-”
“Ask your husband. I’m hanging up now. Tell Rozanov I’m going to slash him next time we play.”
The line goes dead.
Shane finds Ilya in their home gym, working through a set of deadlifts. He waits until Ilya sets the bar down before speaking.
“So. AO3.”
Ilya straightens, not even breathing hard despite the weight he was just lifting. His face is carefully neutral. “What is AO3?”
“Ilya.”
“Is archive for fan fiction, yes? I have heard of this.”
“DefinitelyNotRozanov81?”
Ilya’s mouth twitches. “Is very clever username. This person must be very smart and handsome.”
“You sent Hayden to the ECHL.”
“In fictional story! Is not real!” Ilya spreads his hands innocently. “Is just creative expression. Is protected by — how you say — first amendment?”
“You’re Russian.”
“Canadian now. I have citizenship.”
Shane crosses his arms. “Hayden said there’s another one.”
Something flashes across Ilya’s face — triumph, maybe, or satisfaction. “Maybe is two other ones now. I am very productive writer.”
“Ilya, what did you do?”
“Nothing bad! Is just stories. Fiction. Everyone knows is not real.” Ilya picks up his water bottle, taking a long drink. When he lowers it, there’s a glint in his eye that Shane knows all too well. “You want to read?”
“I-” Shane pauses. Does he? “What are they about?”
Ilya’s smile is absolutely wicked. “Why don’t you see for yourself? I send you link.”
Shane’s phone buzzes five minutes later. It’s a link to an AO3 work titled “The Education of Hayden Pike (Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Accept I’ll Never Be That Good).”
The tags make Shane’s face burn:
Explicit Sexual Content | Voyeurism | Cuckholding | Humiliation | Size Difference | Shane Hollander is a Living Legend | Ilya Rozanov Has a Big Dick | Hayden Pike Has a Small Dick | Hayden Pike Watches | Rope Bondage | The Cuck Chair | PWP | Porn Without Plot | Actually Maybe Some Plot | But Mostly Porn
“Oh my god,” Shane mutters.
He shouldn’t read it. He absolutely should not read it.
He reads it.
The Education of Hayden Pike (Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Accept I’ll Never Be That Good)
by DefinitelyNotRozanov81
Summary: When Hayden Pike admits he’s always wondered what makes Shane Hollander so special, Ilya Rozanov decides to show him. Explicitly. In great detail. While Hayden sits in a chair and thinks about his life choices.
Notes: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and also extremely funny.
The hotel room is nice. Nicer than Hayden deserves, probably, but Shane insisted.
“I don’t know about this,” Hayden says, and it’s the fifth time he’s said it in the last ten minutes.
“You want to leave?” Ilya asks, but he’s already walking Hayden backward toward the chair — the chair that Ilya had specifically requested, high-backed and sturdy, positioned at the foot of the bed. “Door is right there. No one is forcing you.”
“I’m not leaving.” Hayden’s voice cracks slightly.
“No?” Ilya tilts his head, studying him. “Then sit.”
Hayden sits.
“Good boy,” Ilya says, and watches color flood Hayden’s face. “Now. We have rules, yes? You want to know what makes Shane so special. I am going to show you. But you cannot touch. Not him. Not yourself. Not anything. Understand?”
“This is insane,” Hayden mutters, but his eyes are already fixed on Shane, who’s sitting on the edge of the bed, watching them both with dark eyes and flushed cheeks.
“Is educational,” Ilya corrects. He produces rope from somewhere — soft, red, expensive — and Hayden’s eyes go wide.
“That’s—you’re not-”
“I am.” Ilya moves behind the chair. “Is just to help you remember rules. You want to stop?”
Hayden swallows hard. Shakes his head.
“Words, Pike.”
“No. Don’t stop.”
Ilya’s smile is sharp enough to cut. “Good.”
He takes his time with the knots, binding Hayden’s wrists to the arms of the chair, his ankles to the legs. Nothing too tight — Ilya is many things, but he’s not cruel — but enough that Hayden can’t move, can’t look away, can’t do anything but watch.
“Comfortable?” Ilya asks, and Hayden makes a sound that might be agreement.
Ilya straightens and turns to Shane. “Now. Let’s begin lesson.”
Shane closes the app so fast he nearly throws his phone.
“ILYA!”
Ilya appears in the doorway of their bedroom, still in his workout clothes, expression innocent. “Yes, Shaney?”
“You wrote—you can’t-” Shane gestures helplessly with his phone. “That’s so graphic!”
“Is rated E for Explicit. Has warning tags. People know what they are reading.”
“You wrote about us having sex while Hayden watches!”
“Fictional us,” Ilya corrects. “Real us would never do that. Probably.” He pauses. “Unless …”
“No!”
“Is just joke!” Ilya comes fully into the room, sitting beside Shane on the bed. “You are upset?”
Shane takes a breath. He’s not upset, exactly. He’s something else — something complicated that involves being horrified and impressed and, god help him, a little bit turned on by the sheer audacity of his husband writing pornographic fanfiction about his best friend.
“How many people have read it?” Shane asks finally.
Ilya pulls out his own phone, navigating to the page. “This one has … 12,831 hits. 3,076 kudos. Two hundred comments.”
“Two hundred comments?”
“People are very enthusiastic. Look — this person says, ‘The characterization is surprisingly accurate.’ And this one says, ‘RIP Hayden Pike, you never stood a chance.’” Ilya looks delighted. “Is very popular.”
“And the first one? The ECHL one?”
“9,438. Many people enjoy watching Hayden suffer.”
Shane drops his face into his hands. “You’re insane.”
“But you love me anyway, yes?”
“I-” Shane looks up at him. Ilya’s eyes are bright, his smile soft now instead of wicked, and yeah. Yeah, Shane loves him anyway. “You have to stop writing these.”
“Why?”
“Because Hayden is my friend!”
“Exactly! Is too close. Always texting, always calling. ‘Shane, want to golf?’ ‘Shane, want to come to dinner?’ ‘Shane, remember old times?’” Ilya’s accent gets thicker when he’s worked up, and Shane can see the genuine jealousy underneath the jokes. “He takes too much of your time.”
“Ilya.” Shane reaches for his hand. “He’s my friend. That’s all. You know that.”
“I know.” Ilya laces their fingers together. “But is fun to torture him little bit anyway.”
“Through explicit fanfiction.”
“Is art form!”
Shane can’t help but laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Yes, but is why you love me.” Ilya leans in, pressing their foreheads together. “Also, I have big dick. Is in tags. Everyone knows now.”
“Oh my god, stop.”
“Cannot stop. Is creative process. Already working on third story.”
Shane pulls back. “There’s a third one?”
Ilya’s grin is absolutely filthy. “Jackie comes to ask for sex tips for her husband. Very educational. Very detailed. Has diagrams.”
“You didn’t.”
“Not yet. But is good idea, yes? Maybe she brings measurements, and I explain what is considered ‘average’ and what is considered ‘please seek medical attention.’“
Shane should shut this down. He should be a good friend and tell Ilya to delete everything and apologize to Hayden.
Instead, he hears himself say, “When are you posting it?”
The third fic goes up on a Wednesday.
Shane knows this because his phone starts blowing up at 9 AM.
HAYDEN: YOUR HUSBAND INVOLVED MY WIFE
HAYDEN: MY WIFE, SHANE
HAYDEN: JACKIE IS LAUGHING SO HARD SHE CAN’T BREATHE
HAYDEN: SHE MADE ME READ IT OUT LOUD TO HER
HAYDEN: I WANT TO DIE
Shane clicks the link Hayden sends him and immediately regrets every life choice that led him to this moment.
Sexual Healing: Jackie Pike’s Quest for Answers
by DefinitelyNotRozanov81
Summary: When Jackie Pike’s sex life isn’t quite measuring up (literally), she turns to the one man who might be able to help: Ilya Rozanov. What follows is a frank, educational, and deeply mortifying conversation about anatomy, technique, and why some things simply cannot be taught.
Tags: No Sex | Just Talking About Sex | So Much Talking About Sex | Educational | Humor | Small Penis | Ilya Rozanov is a Sexual Philanthropist | Jackie Pike Deserves Better | Hayden Pike Probably Cries in This | Excessive Medical Terminology | I Googled Things I Cannot Ungoogle | Author Has No Regrets
Jackie Pike sits across from Ilya in an upscale coffee shop in Montreal, hands wrapped around a latte, expression serious.
“Thank you for meeting me,” she says.
“Of course.” Ilya stirs his espresso thoughtfully. “Your message was very … direct.”
“I need your help.” Jackie takes a breath. “It’s about Hayden.”
“Ah.” Ilya nods knowingly. “Is the dick, yes?”
Jackie chokes on her latte. “I—how did you-”
“Please. Everyone knows.” Ilya waves a hand dismissively. “Is okay. Is nothing to be ashamed of. Well. For you, anyway. For Hayden, maybe little bit shame is appropriate.”
“He tries,” Jackie says, and there’s real affection in her voice. “He really does. But …”
“But is like trying to paint ceiling of Sistine Chapel with crayon.”
Jackie’s laugh is startled and genuine. “That’s one way to put it.”
“I have many ways to put it. Have been thinking about this extensively.” Ilya pulls out his phone — not to show her fanfiction, obviously, that would be weird — but to pull up what appears to be actual research. “See, average erect penis is 5.1 to 5.5 inches. This is scientific fact.”
“Right,” Jackie says faintly.
“Now, I don’t know Hayden’s exact measurements-”
“Four inches.”
Ilya winces sympathetically. “Is below average. But! Is not impossible to work with. Just requires … creativity. Technique. Many positions are not available to him, is true, but some positions might actually be better suited for smaller-”
“Are you seriously giving me sex tips right now?”
“You asked!” Ilya spreads his hands. “Is why we are here, no?”
Jackie stares at him for a long moment, then starts laughing. “Oh my god. Hayden was right. You really are the worst.”
“I am the best,” Ilya corrects. “Is very different. Now. Does he know about the anterior fornix? The A-spot?”
“The what?”
“Exactly.” Ilya leans forward, suddenly serious. “Listen. Size is not everything. Is maybe twenty percent of equation. Forty percent is technique. Thirty percent is enthusiasm. Ten percent is aftercare and communication.”
“That’s … actually kind of sweet?”
“I am very sweet person.” Ilya pauses. “But also, I cannot fix the size problem. This is beyond even my considerable skills. Maybe you buy good toys? I can recommend-”
Jackie holds up a hand, laughing again. “Stop. Please. I can’t take anymore.”
“Is too much information?”
“It’s perfect.” She stands, gathering her coat. “Thank you, Ilya. I mean it. You’re insane, but … thank you.”
“Tell Hayden I try my best,” Ilya calls after her. “But some battles cannot be won!”
Shane finishes reading and immediately calls Ilya.
“You gave her actual sex advice.”
“Was good advice!” Ilya sounds offended. “I research very thoroughly. Even cite sources in author notes.”
“You’re out of control.”
“No, I am very in control. Is why I am so good at sex. Shane, you agree, yes?”
Shane can hear the smirk in his voice. “I’m not answering that.”
“Your silence speaks volumes. Is very loud silence. Is like screaming ‘Yes Ilya, you are sexual god, please never stop doing that thing with your-’”
“ILYA.”
“Is true though, yes?”
Shane sighs. “The story is actually kind of sweet. At the end.”
“See? I can be sweet. When I want.”
“The comments are going crazy.”
“I know! Is very gratifying. This one person writes whole essay about sexual education and body positivity. Another person says I am ‘chaotic evil but in a fun way.’ Is best compliment I ever receive.”
“Hayden’s probably going to murder you next time we play Montreal.”
“He can try. But I am too sexy to die.” Ilya pauses. “Also, I have new idea for story four.”
“Oh no.”
“Is about Hayden and me becoming friends. We bond over shared love of hockey and terrible chirping. Is very heartwarming.”
Shane sits up straighter. “Really?”
“No. Is actually about him getting traded to Arizona and crying in desert. But! At end, he finds cactus that reminds him of his penis, and he feels less alone.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Yes. But you love me.”
And god help him, Shane does.
The fics keep coming.
By the end of the month, DefinitelyNotRozanov81 has posted seven stories, each more elaborate than the last:
- “The Cactus Chronicles: Hayden Pike Finds Himself (And a Plant)” - 7,245 hits
- “Hayden Pike’s Guide to Being the Ninth-Best Winger on Your Team” - 13,891 hits
- “That Time Hayden Pike Accidentally Sent a Dick Pic to the Team Group Chat (It Was Enlarged 300% and Still Not Impressive)” - 11,526 hits
- “The One Where Hayden Pike Tries to Grow a Beard to Compensate (It Doesn’t Work)” - 8,734 hits
The comments sections become legendary. People start writing fanfiction of Ilya’s fanfiction. There are inside jokes. Memes. Someone makes a podcast episode analyzing the “deeper themes” of Ilya’s work.
Hayden calls Shane every single time a new story drops.
“He’s writing me into a humiliation kink I don’t even have,” Hayden says after story number five. “I don’t want to be tied up and forced to watch him rail you! I don’t even want to watch anyone rail anyone!”
“Then why do you keep reading them?”
Hayden is quiet for a beat. “They’re really well-written.”
“I know.”
“Like, disturbingly well-written. The characterization is spot-on. The pacing is perfect. There’s actual emotional depth underneath all the dick jokes.”
“I know.”
“I think I’m starting to understand why people write fanfiction.”
Shane laughs. “Are you going to start writing your own?”
“God no. But I did leave a comment on the last one.”
“You didn’t.”
“I did. Anonymously, obviously. I said the author clearly has unresolved jealousy issues and should seek therapy.”
“What did Ilya say?”
“He replied, ‘Thank you for feedback. However, author notes that therapy is expensive and writing fanfiction is free. Also, author suggests that if you are Hayden Pike, you should work on your weak backhand. It’s even worse than Shane Hollander’s.’”
Shane dissolves into laughter.
It all comes to a head when Montreal plays Ottawa in February.
Shane is doing pre-game warm-ups when Hayden skates over, positioning himself at center ice with a shit-eating grin.
“Hey, Hollander.”
“Hey yourself.”
“Your husband here?”
“Why?”
“Because I wrote something he might want to see.”
Shane’s stomach drops. “Oh no. Hayden, what did you do?”
Hayden’s grin widens. “Check AO3 when you get a chance. Username is DefinitelyNotHaydenPike35.”
The Tragic Tale of Ilya Rozanov’s Ego (And How It Got Him Benched)
by DefinitelyNotHaydenPike35
Summary: When Ilya Rozanov’s trash talk finally catches up with him, he learns a valuable lesson about humility, friendship, and why you shouldn’t write explicit RPF about your husband’s best friend. Features: locker room drama, a very disappointed coach, and Shane Hollander being very, very amused.
Tags: Humor | No Sex For Once | Just Karma | Ilya Rozanov Gets What He Deserves | Shane Hollander is a Saint | Hayden Pike Wins One (1) Time | Revenge Fic | The Author Regrets Nothing | Actually The Author Regrets Some Things | But Mostly Nothing
Shane reads it between periods, and it’s magnificent.
Hayden has perfectly captured Ilya’s voice — the mix of arrogance and insecurity, the way his accent gets thicker when he’s flustered, the fierce protectiveness underneath all the posturing. It’s funny and a little bit mean and somehow also affectionate.
The comments are already flooding in:
RivalryShipper: FINALLY! THE TABLES HAVE TURNED!
HockeyFanatic91: This is the crossover event we needed
PuckeredUp2022: I’m crying laughing. The image of Rozanov’s face when he reads this will sustain me for YEARS
Ilya finds out during the second period.
Shane can tell because Ilya suddenly skates over to Hayden during a TV timeout, gestures wildly, and appears to be yelling something in Russian. Hayden just grins and blows him a kiss.
After the game — which Ottawa wins, 4-2, with Ilya getting two goals because of course he does — Ilya storms into the locker room and immediately pulls out his phone.
“He writes about me!”
Shane is trying very hard not to laugh. “I know.”
“He says I have fragile ego!”
“Do you not?”
“No! I have very strong ego! Is unbreakable!” Ilya scrolls furiously through the fic. “And this part — where I cry because you say Hayden is good friend — is complete fiction! I would never cry!”
“You cried during Marley & Me.”
“Was emotional movie! And we agreed never to speak of this!”
Shane finally gives in and laughs, pulling Ilya close despite the sweat and gear. “Baby. He got you.”
“He cannot get me. I am ungettable.”
“You’re very gettable.” Shane kisses his temple. “And you kind of deserved it.”
Ilya slumps against him dramatically. “I know. Is fair revenge.” He pulls back, eyes narrowing. “But now I must write story about how his story is actually secret confession of his love for me.”
“Ilya-”
“Is called ‘Hayden Pike Doth Protest Too Much: A Psychological Analysis.’ Will have footnotes. Charts. Maybe graph showing correlation between his obsession with me and his declining stats.”
“His stats are fine.”
“Are fine for someone who is fifteenth-best player on team, yes.”
Shane kisses him to shut him up, and Ilya melts into it like he always does, hands coming up to cup Shane’s face.
When they break apart, Ilya’s eyes are soft. “You know I don’t actually hate Hayden, yes?”
“I know.”
“He is good friend to you. Good person. Good father.” Ilya pauses. “Still has tiny dick, but is not his fault. Is genetics.”
“Ilya.”
“I stop now.” He grins. “Maybe. Probably not. But I think about it.”
That night, curled up in bed together, Shane watches Ilya scroll through the comments on Hayden’s fic.
“He is actually very good writer,” Ilya admits grudgingly. “Has natural voice. Good pacing. The scene where I throw tantrum because coach benches me is particularly accurate.”
“Are you going to write back?”
“Of course. Already planning. Will be masterpiece of psychological warfare disguised as bromance.” Ilya turns to look at him, and his expression is uncharacteristically vulnerable. “You know why I write these, yes? The real reason?”
Shane runs a hand through his hair. “Tell me.”
“Is because sometimes I still can’t believe you choose me. That you love me. That you are here.” Ilya swallows. “And when Hayden calls, when he wants your time, I get scared. Stupid scared. Baby scared.”
“Ilya.” Shane’s chest aches. “I chose you. I keep choosing you. Every day.”
“I know. In head, I know. But heart is slower to learn.” Ilya manages a small smile. “So I write silly stories where I am big strong Russian with huge dick who defeats all enemies. Is true. Is therapy, basically.”
“It’s fanfiction.”
“Is same thing.”
Shane kisses him, slow and sweet. “I love you. Your jealousy, your possessiveness, your absolutely unhinged coping mechanisms — all of it.”
“Even the stories about Hayden’s tiny dick?”
“Somehow.”
Ilya’s laugh is bright and genuine. “Good. Because have idea for next one. Is crossover with romance novel. Hayden gets transported into Pride and Prejudice but Elizabeth Bennet still rejects him because his estate is too small.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Makes perfect sense. Estate is metaphor.”
Shane groans but he’s smiling. “You’re impossible.”
“Yes,” Ilya agrees, pulling Shane closer. “But you love me anyway.”
And Shane does. God help him, he really, really does.
DefinitelyNotRozanov81’s AO3 Profile:
Bio: Russian hockey player with big heart and bigger dick. Write stories for fun and psychological warfare. All stories are fiction except the parts that are true. You decide which is which.
Works: 12
Total Word Count: 47,892
Hits: 109,456
Kudos: 51,847
Comments: 11736
Bookmarks: 1592
Followers: 1,203
Recent Activity:
- Added new work: “Pride and Prejudice and Small Dick Energy: A Regency Crossover”
- Left comment on “The Tragic Tale of Ilya Rozanov’s Ego”: “Is good story. However, author makes critical error in assuming I care what coach thinks. Also, my ego is not fragile. Is perfectly sized. Like everything else about me.”
- Updated bio to include: “Now accepting prompts but only if they involve Hayden Pike suffering in creative ways.”
Three weeks later, Hayden posts a sequel to his fic.
It’s called “The One Where Ilya Rozanov Learns About the Power of Friendship (Just Kidding, He Doesn’t Learn Anything)” and it’s somehow even better than the first one.
Ilya reads it during breakfast, muttering in Russian, making offended sounds, and then very quietly leaving a kudos before Shane can see.
“You liked it,” Shane accuses.
“Was adequate,” Ilya sniffs. “Could use more sex scenes. Maybe one where I win at everything.”
His phone buzzes. It’s a comment from DefinitelyNotHaydenPike35:
“Thanks for the kudos, Rozanov. Maybe you’re not completely hopeless after all. Small penis though. Very small.”
Ilya types back immediately: “Is rich coming from you. Also, your children are probably disappointed in your genetics. Tell Jackie I am sorry for her loss.”
Shane watches this exchange with fond exasperation and thinks that yes, this is his life now. His husband writes explicit hockey RPF about his best friend. His best friend writes revenge fics. And they both seem to be having the time of their lives.
“You two are going to be doing this forever, aren’t you?” Shane asks.
Ilya looks up, grinning. “Is possible. Is good creative outlet. Very healthy.”
“This is the opposite of healthy.”
“No, no. Therapist says expressing feelings is good. I express feelings through art.”
“Your therapist did not mean pornographic fanfiction.”
“Did not say not pornographic fanfiction.” Ilya stands, coming around the island to wrap his arms around Shane. “Besides. Is fun. Hayden has fun too, I think. Is like how we used to compete on ice, yes? But now is compete on internet. Is modern rivalry.”
Shane leans into him, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne. “As long as you’re happy.”
“Am very happy.” Ilya kisses the top of his head. “Have you, have hockey, have creative outlet for jealous feelings. Is perfect life.”
“And a thousand people reading about our sex life.”
“Is fictional sex life.”
“Ilya.”
“Mostly fictional sex life.”
“ILYA.”
Ilya just laughs, and Shane decides that some battles aren’t worth fighting. Besides, he has to admit — there’s something kind of beautiful about the whole thing. Ilya finding a way to process his feelings, Hayden giving as good as he gets, their weird little corner of the internet where their rivalry plays out in the most absurd way possible.
Later, when Shane checks his phone, he sees that someone has made fanart of the cuck chair scene.
He shows it to Ilya, who looks at it critically for a long moment before nodding.
“Is very accurate. Good attention to detail. Though chair should be bigger. Hayden needs more space to contemplate his inadequacy.”
Shane just shakes his head and kisses him, because what else can you do when you’re in love with the most chaotic, creative, jealous, beautiful man in the world?
You write about it, apparently. Or you let him write about it.
Either way, it works.