Chapter Text
The video begins with Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov facing the camera.
“Hi I’m Shane Hollander,” Shane says, nodding with a neutral face
“I am Ilya Rozanov,” Ilya adds.
“And we are here to take the Vanity Fair Lie Detector Test,” Shane finishes for the both of them.
Camera cuts to Ilya strapped to the polygraph machine with Shane facing him.
“Ok, Ilya,” Shane begins, smiling a little when he sees his husband attached to the polygraph machine.
“I am going to ask you some questions to calibrate the machine ok?” Rozanov nods, crossing his arms and leaning back a bit. He does not appear to be nervous. Shane, on the other hand, looks almost nervous for him despite knowing all the questions that the man will be asked today.
“First, is your name Ilya Grigoryevich Hollaner-Rozanov?” Shane begins. Ilya nods before realizing he has to give a verbal response. The Russian sits up a bit.
“Da. yes,” Ilya nods, briefly taking his eyes off of Shane to look at the person running the test, Stephanie, who nods once.
“Were you born in Moscow, Russia?”
“Yes.”
“Are you about to take a lie detector test?”
“Yes.”
“Are you nervous?”
“Eh… not really.”
The woman gives a thumbs up. Time for the real questions to begin. Camera cuts to dark screen with the words: ILYA ROZANOV TELLS THE TRUTH
“Ok, Ilya,” Shane begins. “Over the course of both our careers, the question surrounding which one of us is the better player has been a point of contention-” Shane pauses, realizing his questions are very formal to be asking his husband, even if it was a sort of interrogation. He also realizes Ilya might not know what “contention” means. Ilya looks slightly more worried now. Shane adjusts and asks simply:
“Do you think I am a better hockey player than you?” Rozanov laughs, his serious expression fading
“Ah I should have known you would ask that. Is so you,” Ilya smiles before thinking for a moment.
“But no, I think you are not better than me,” he finishes. Stephanie disagrees.
“That’s a lie,” she shakes her head. Ilya groans dramatically while Shane grins, his eyes lighting up for the first time with something other than wariness.
“Lying the very first question? Good one Ilya,” Shane teases, moving his first question card to the back of the deck before tapping the cards against the table to make them straight. Ilya grumbles a “fuck you”. It is later cut out by the editing team. The two boys laugh and the scene is cut to Shane’s next question.
“Ilya, you’re known to be a pretty intimidating presence both on and off the ice,” Shane begins. “Have you done anything to purposely seem more intimidating to opponents?” Ilya ponders a moment before slowly shaking his head, almost making sure he understands the question before fully committing to his answer.
“Nyet. No, I do not think so. Many people tell me that I am scary before they talk to me. After I talk to them they realize I am not that bad,” Ilya laughs. Shane nods in agreement.
“Did you think I was scary?” Ilya grins lazily at his husband. Shane shoots him a look, but a faint blush blooms under his freckles.
“It’s not your turn to ask the questions,” Shane retorts, tapping the cards against the table.
“Mm but soon moya lyubov,” Ilya grins. Shane grips his cards a little tighter at the nickname and Ilya’s grin gets wider when he sees the flush on his husband grow. Shane was glaring daggers at him.
Unbeknownst to the producers and audience, Shane had made Ilya promise not to use any nicknames in the interview to be “professional”. In reality, Shane really just didn't want the world to see him blush at his husband’s words and Ilya, on the contrary, had no qualms about everyone seeing the effect his words had on his husband. Ilya shrugs, almost as if saying “oops. I forgot.” He definitely did not forget. The camera cuts out and then is edited to Shane’s next question.
“Ilya, do you like playing for the Centaurs or the Raiders better?” Shane asks, noticeably less flustered now. Ilya rolls his eyes.
“Shanya, your questions are so boring.” The Russian drawls, enunciating the “so”.
“They are all about hockey. Where is juicy stuff? My questions are so much better. Very interesting questions,” Ilya grins mischievously. Shane’s brows narrow in indignation.
“My questions aren't boring, Ilya. We're here to talk about hockey. We’re literally hockey players!” Shane argues. Ilya just sighs and looks at the camera. “My questions are much better. Do not worry.” The camera pans to Shane who is once again glaring at Ilya but somehow also holds a kind of affection for him.
“Ok. Sorry. Sorry malysh,” Ilya holds up his hands, his accent thick around the words, not appearing apologetic at all. Shane rolls his eyes, but it is clear to the audience that he isn’t really upset.
“Ok, so can you answer my question now?” Shane asks, a bit demanding.
“You are so demanding. Mr. Detective,” Ilya murmurs. “But da, ok, I answer your boring question.” Ilya thinks for a moment.
“Ehh it is… different. Boston was my rookie season… good team, good guys. I liked it there. With Centaurs I play with you now. So… Centaurs,” Ilya finishes. Both boys glance at Stephanie who nods.
“But was very fun playing against you on Raiders,” Ilya grins, “face off was my favorite part of game. You were so cute. Like angry kitten.”
“Ilya-!” Shane starts and the camera is cut off. The next scene shows Shane’s next question.
“Ilya,” Shane grumbles his husband’s name. Ilya grins.
“My Shanya,” Ilya replies cheekily. Shane glares before looking down at his next question. A look of almost nervous hesitance crosses his face.
“What was your first impression of me?” Shane asks, his glare and annoyed charade dissipating into something more vulnerable. Ilya’s expression softens.
“Very pretty. The first thought was you were so pretty. With your beautiful freckles and your beautiful eyes,” Ilya murmurs. Shane blushes and looks down at his card, rubbing a nail over one of the edges so he wouldn't have to look at anyone. Neither man had to look at Stephanie to know he was telling the truth.
“You were so… polite? Polite Canadian. So cute,” Ilya grins. Shane mutters an affectionate “fuck off” which is later editted out. After many more hockey related questions, Shane gets to his last question.
“What is your favorite thing about me?” Shane was barely finished with his question before Ilya was answering.
“Your freckles! Your freckles. Definitely.”
“No Ilya, I meant like… personality wise.”
“Ah, I see. Sorry. Ehh….,” The Russian makes a show of thinking hard about one thing he liked about his husband.
“Any day now Rozanov,” Shane muttered dryly. Ilya softens.
“Ok. ok. Is hard to pick just one moya lyubov. But I will say… your ambition? Yes. So dedicated. To everything. To hockey, to me, of course, to your family. Is very admirable. I also love your compassion. You have big heart,” Ilya nods.
“Well that’s really nice. Thank you,” Shane smiles. Ilya smiles back. Both of them forget that he could technically be lying because why would Ilya ever lie about loving his husband?
"Ok last question. Was there ever a point in this interview where you lied and we didn't catch you?" Shane asks. Ilya shakes his head.
"No. I tell the truth... and when I do not I was caught," Ilya admits and Shane laughs. The camera shuts off.
“Ok boys time to switch.”