6 Works by shanebug_2481
Listing Works
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Lust Rushes, But Love Waits by shanebug_2481
Fandoms: Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types
12 Sep 2026
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Summary
Shane ran with a fury – channeling every ounce of shame, anger, hurt, and disdain he possessed. He ran with a purpose: to catalogue every misstep and maintain his stamina.
Each time he replayed the interaction or thought of Ilya alone again in his cottage, he bit down harder on his lip and ran faster, feet slamming against the trail.
A guttural cry pierced the air as Shane fell to the ground, the dense dirt leaving burn marks on the skin of his elbows. For one terrifying second, his vision went white, his lungs forgot how to expand, and he lay motionless, face pressed into the earth.
He thought of the fight he’d had with Ilya, his own voice echoing in his head: “This is who I am. You know that. I give everything I have to hockey.”
He was Shane Hollander: the best player in the MLH; he was fine, he told himself – he didn't need Ilya.
It was a lie.
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Even When I'm Quiet, I Love You, Baby, I Promise. by shanebug_2481
Fandoms: Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types
29 Jul 2026
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Summary
"In here," Shane wanted to scream. "I can't breathe. Help me," he wanted to say; "I need you."
He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He was imprisoned by his silence and the feeling of his body trembling against the tile floor.
“Moya lyubov?” the Russian called again.
Shane could hear his footsteps against the floor; he was going to the bedroom – he was going the wrong way.
"Please," he wanted to scream. "I’m here, and I’m dying."
He tried to speak again, but the words caught in his throat.
He wanted so badly to call for Ilya. Shutting his eyes, he pushed all the air from his lungs, trying to dislodge whatever it was that inhibited his speech.
The footsteps were still retreating, traveling further away from Shane. A tear slid down his cheek, and finally, a timid whimper pushed past his lips – it was barely audible.
Ilya’s shoes stopped moving.
Or: Shane has a meltdown and Ilya finds him
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Sober or Not, It’s Always You by shanebug_2481
Fandoms: Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types
11 Jul 2026
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Summary
The room tilted slightly, and Shane’s throat was raw.
He swayed there a moment, scanning the spinning room for somewhere to steady himself – for Haas or Dykstra. Ilya had been right; he should have slowed down, stayed with his teammates. He hadn't listened, and now he was alone, 2 Moscow Mules and 3 shots deep, stuck at the bar and lost in a sea of people.
Shane just wanted his husband. The alcohol hadn't yet done anything to alleviate the effects of the music and lights that encircled him. He felt trapped – suffocated – like his skin was fusing itself to his stiff muscles. The room spun faster, and the Canadian wasn't convinced he was standing upright anymore. His heart pounded in his ears as the music rattled his ribcage once more, an insatiable itch beckoning his blunt fingernails.
He wanted to scream. He wanted to rip his hair out. He wanted to tear his clothes off.
He wanted Ilya.
“Selfish,” he muttered under his breath, tongue heavy as it touched his teeth.
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The Courage to be Loved Kindly by shanebug_2481
Fandoms: Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types
05 Jul 2026
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Summary
When Ilya woke again, his body ached from somewhere deep. Exhaustion burrowed into the fiber of his muscles and the marrow of his bones, consuming him entirely. He lay still, staring blankly at the ceiling, willing himself to move just enough to cover up with the blanket.
Shane would be back from his run soon, he figured. Most of the time, when he was having a hard day, Ilya would plaster a well-timed smile on his face and do his best not to worry his already anxious boyfriend. Today, he did not possess the willpower. He felt hollowed out, feckless, unmoored. This was the version of himself he kept carefully tucked away, hidden behind a fortress of self-assuredness, sarcasm, and charisma. This was the version of Ilya Rosanov no one got to see – not even Shane.
Any minute now, his carefully constructed facade and perfectly positioned walls would come crashing down. This time, he was too overcome by the sheer intensity of this bout of depression that he couldn't shield Shane from it. He was too exhausted to move, let alone conceal his shortcomings.
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Unsteady by shanebug_2481
Fandoms: Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types
29 Jun 2026
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Summary
“I just want to feel your forehead, okay?” Ilya spoke softly, like Shane was a fawn easily spooked.
He shook his head frantically, then brought his hands up to fist his hair when the motion exacerbated the throbbing. “N-no,” he breathed, “not sick. no point.” His sense of control was really fraying now, and Ilya could sense it.
“Moya lyubov, you act like skittish cat. Is no big deal then. If you are not sick, then there is nothing to hide, yes?”
Maybe it was the way he spoke to him so tenderly, or the throbbing in his head and the aching in his bones, but the next time Ilya reached for him, he didn't pull away.
When the strong, calloused hand found his forehead and Ilya inhaled sharply, Shane held his breath for what he knew came next.
“Jesus, you are burning!” his boyfriend cried, prompting Shane to once again shrink away.
“Nuh-uh,” he grumbled. “Don't get sick, remember?”
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Let me love you anyway by shanebug_2481
Fandoms: Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types, Heated Rivalry (TV)
26 Jun 2026
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Summary
Things like this didn't happen to other people; Shane knew that. He’d been alive long enough to experience the confused glances and exasperated scoffs that always accompanied his discomfort with things other people didn't even notice. He would not fuck this up – not because he couldn't handle the way the sheets touched his skin. The burning of his skin spread to his eyes as his vision blurred. He squeezed his eyes shut and scrubbed his hands over his face. He would not cry.
The tears fell hot and silent. They pooled at the curve of his jaw and around his chin, puddles of shame and self-contempt. Fucking breathe, he told himself, as he turned the faucet of the shower as far as it could go.
He stood watching the water pool around his feet and slip down the drain until he heard Ilya stir. At first, he wasn't sure if he had really heard his name.
“Shane?… Shane?”
He wanted to yell back, assure Ilya everything was fine, but when he opened his mouth, only a squeak escaped.
“Moya lyubov?”
He cleared his throat and tried again: “In here.”