Work Text:
Shane’s favorite place in Ilya’s house was easily the kitchen. Well, maybe he didn’t like it as much as he loved their shared bedroom with its king size bed and large picture window overlooking the backyard where they married. Maybe the kitchen wasn’t as nice as their shared trophy room holding all of their achievements from the past ten years with even more shelves to hold all that they would accomplish in the future. But the kitchen was really great. Third place, for sure.
He pulled his french toast casserole out of the oven. Eating carbs was still a bit of a struggle for Shane. But this was worlds better than the McGriddles that Ilya almost certainly would have picked up if he was left in charge of brunch. So french toast casserole, poached eggs, and chicken sausage would have to do. It still combined sweet and savory flavors, like those god awful pucks of americanized maple syrup and starch. Not exactly healthy, but not not healthy.
Shane took a deep breath. “It’s okay to eat carbs sometimes.”
A strong arm wrapped its way around his middle, and a familiar chin rubbed against his neck.
“What was that, любимый?”
“Uh, nothing.” Shane turned around, slightly red faced that Ilya had overheard his little mantra. “I’m going to wrap this in foil. Mom and Dad should be here soon, so-”
Ilya hummed and turned his light ministrations into fierce kisses, gnawing down the long side of Shane’s neck. Shane’s head instinctively lolled back in response to his husband’s passions, before his brain kicked back into control.
“No, Ilya. Mom and Dad are coming, we can't.” Shane groaned and despite his dick’s protestations, he pushed Ilya away.
“Sorry,” Ilya smiled in a way that told Shane he was not contrite in the least. “I’ve just been reading this very interesting story. It um, got me in the mood.”
Ilya had been on a bit of a queer romance kick lately. He hadn’t been much of a reader, but Rose had put it in his head that these books could serve as ‘inspiration for the bedroom’. To Shane’s utter embarrassment, Ilya had followed her advice to ‘keep the honeymoon spirit going’. Shane wished the floor of that sushi restaurant in Toronto where they met her after the Centaurs had absolutely destroyed the Guardians had just collapsed beneath them. But instead, the world kept turning, and the trashy romance novels had turned Ilya into even more of a menace.
“Oh, I see. Well, maybe you just read those books at bedtime babe.”
“It wasn’t a book, it was um,” Ilya paused like he often did when he was trying to think of the exact right word in English. In Shane’s humble opinion, it was one of the most adorable things that he did. “Short story. On the internet-”
“Oh, okay.” Shane turned away and focused on finishing brunch. He rinsed some strawberries and sliced them. A little garnish for the casserole that would add some fiber to an otherwise nutritionally useless dish.
“It was about us-”
Shane stopped mid chop and let go of the knife. “WHAT?!”
He turned around and was immediately greeted with Ilya’s shit eating grin. One of Ilya’s hands snaked back around Shane’s waist and the other held up his iPad.
“Yes, wonderful site called AO3. We’re on it!”
The color drained from Shane’s face.
“Yes, apparently people write free stories on internet. Some of them are about us.”
“Fuck-” Shane snatched the iPad out of Ilya’s hands. He walked towards the adjoining living room and fell dumbly onto the couch. Apparently, Ilya was reading a story called ‘Shadow and Ice’.
Notes:
I’ve been an Hollanov truther since day 1. You can’t tell me that these two just started fucking like three years ago. Anyway this is what I think *really* happened the night of their first NLH awards. Enjoy ;)
Despite Shane’s better judgement he scrolled down. It wasn’t anything like the impassioned but ultimately disappointing kiss that they shared on the Las Vegas rooftop. Shane cringed whenever he reflected on that night: assuming that Ilya was disappointed that he didn’t win. The truth, of course, was that Ilya was anxious about returning to Russia as a bisexual man. Not that Shane fully understood that at the time. Apparently, this author didn’t understand that either.
“Well, time to make good on that bet.” A cocky wide-eyed Shane Hollander announced as a pathetic lovesick Ilya opened the door.
“Yes, Daddy,” Ilya mewled as he happily bent himself over the-
“Oh my god!” Shane yelped and nearly dropped the iPad.
“Weird, yes? I mean who looks at you and thinks ‘top’.” Shane felt Ilya grab his chin. “Of course, if you wanted to call me Daddy-”
“Not happening!” Shane broke his chin away from Ilya’s hold. Instead, he fruitlessly tried to bury himself in their oversized sectional. His parents were going to be here any minute. When they asked what they had been doing all morning, he knew that Ilya would shamelessly show them this godawful website. That familiar feeling of wanting the earth to break open and swallow him whole wormed its way back into his stomach.
“See there’s more.” Ilya took the iPad back for a moment before passing it back to Shane. There in big bold print it listed just how many works there were in ‘NHL- RPF’. Shane felt like he was going to throw up. He scrolled through listed stories ‘Help! My Mom Sold Me to Shane Hollander!’ and ‘Heated Rivalry’.
“What the fuck? What is all this?”
“I told you; stories!”
“But why?”
Ilya shrugged. “People like us. People like sex. It’s not complicated. Some of them are pretty good. I even found some in Russian. Those are very-”
“Oh my god, I married a narcissist.” Shane grabbed one of the velvet pillows and wrapped his arms around it. He half considered screaming into it. “Is this what you’ve been doing all morning? I thought you were going for a run.”
“I got distracted.”
“How’d you even find this-” But Shane cut himself off. He knew the answer even before Ilya confirmed.
“Rose. There’s a lot about her too. Though not as many as there are about us. Apparently, we are number one tag on NHL fandom.”
“Fuck. Wait? There’s like more stories?”
“Yeah. Number one tag, Shane.” Shane watched hopelessly as Ilya flipped through the different relationship filters. There were plenty of Shane Hollander/Ilya Rosanov. There was a bunch of Scott and Kip which he figured was to be expected since they were a real life couple. Then some Dallas/Troy which thankfully had fallen off a few years ago when Troy had been traded to Ottawa. And then there was- “Wait? Is that about Hayden and I?”
“Oh yes, very bad. Ship name is Shayden?” Ilya stuck out his tongue and gagged. “As if you would be with Hayden, when I am right here-”
“I dunno Hayden’s pretty hot-”
“Hayden is not hot. We do not lie in this house, Mr. Hollander-Rosanov.” Ilya ripped the pillow away from Shane’s hands.
Anya padded over and whined. Shane sighed and brought her onto the couch with them. She snuggled in between them as Ilya and Shane passed the iPad back and forth seeing all that AO3 had to offer.
“What are these?” Shane squinted and pointed to the little underlined blurbs of text.
“Do you want your glasses?”
Shane glowered. He did not want to make this morning even more of a fantasy for Ilya. Especially since his parents were going to knock on the door any minute.
“No, just make the text bigger.”
Ilya huffed and made a big show of enlarging the text on the iPad. “They’re called ‘tags’. They um, show you the story you want.”
“Huh.” Shane sat back on the couch, running his hands through Anya’s fur. There was a dizzying array of little blurbs that said things like ‘hurt/comfort’ and ‘anal sex’. Which Shane suspected if he clicked on it would give him a story of Ilya comforting him through sex? This was a lot. “Wait, so does that mean you looked up ‘Shane top’?”
“Of course, I needed something I can’t get in real life-”
Shane pursed his lips together. Then Ilya pulled him in and pressed a kiss into his hair. It was true that Shane had almost no interest in topping. But he didn’t need his husband to say it so brazenly. Shane flicked through more of the stories on offer. One tag kept coming up over and over. “What’s omegaverse?”
“Oh,” Ilya growled. Somehow Anya knew this was her cue to exit, as she hopped off the couch and headed towards her dog bed. “That is the universe where I get you pregnant.”
Shane blanched. “That’s not how this works-”
“I know, that’s why it’s hot-”
Shane grimaced. Either Ilya didn’t care or it just spurred him on. Ilya set the iPad on the coffee table. Soon Shane found himself tucked between his husband’s powerful thighs. Ilya loomed over him, that’s when Shane’s thoughts got a little fuzzy around the edges.
“You don’t like it?” Ilya murmured as he gathered Shane’s wrists and locked them on either side of his head. “You don’t want me to take you raw. Fill you up. Make you full with my child.”
Shane gasped as Ilya pressed their lips together. It took all his willpower not to buck against Ilya as he moved his luscious lips down, nipping not so gently at his chin. Heat coursed its way through his body. His dick didn’t seem to care in the slightest that his parents were going to walk through their front door any minute.
“Fuck, Ilya-”
“Yes.” Ilya grabbed Shane’s hair and pulled him so Shane was forced to look him in the eyes. Ilya’s pupils were large black dots on his fair face. Shane felt his adam’s apple bob up and down.
“Good Morning!”
His mother’s bright voice echoed through their cavernous living room.
“Shit,” Shane yelped as he tried to squirm his way out from underneath Ilya. But it was too late because Yuna and David Hollander were standing in his living room watching him be mounted by his overenthusiastic husband.
“Yuna! David!” Ilya chirped.
“We can come back later,” said an extremely uncomfortable David.
“Newlyweds,” Yuna sighed.
Ilya got off of Shane and offered him a hand off the couch. Shane batted it away and stood up, hoping that his dick had finally gotten the message to cool it.
“Um, let’s eat.”