Chapter Text
Male carriers are a rare breed in North America. With only .005% of the male population having the recessive gene. In Canada there are a couple hundred male pregnancies documented each year with only half of them carrying to full term.
Shane Hollander was one of the .005%. He just didn't know it.
His parents had never found it necessary to get him tested for it, especially when he was older. He’d had many girlfriends—well a few but still they had no reason to believe it was ever going to be an issue and by the time Shane met Ilya the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. And if he was honest they’d used condoms most of the time and from what he remembered in his health class was even males carriers still only had a 10% of conceiving after unprotected sex since they didn’t have regular menstrual cycles like women.
A man’s cycle only lasts one day and there wasn’t the typical uterine shedding so Shane never noticed. And Ilya hadn’t either. So they continued to fuck raw on occasion. One specific occasion.
On June 17th, 2025 the Ottawa Centaurs won their second Stanley Cup.
And Ilya and Shane had quite the celebration. The whole night honestly was homoerotic for them basically foreplay. They had played such a great game. It was close too and they even went into overtime. Thankfully Shane made the assist to Ilya who scored the game winning goal and of course they crashed into each other.
Their lips found each other like the puck found the back of the net. It wasn’t a sloppy make out or anything but it was more than a quick peck. It didn’t last too long however because they were soon bombarded by the rest of their team.
And the rest of the night was a blur more or less. Shane really only remembers drinking lots of champagne and of course vodka. Usually Shane didn’t drink but when you win the Stanley Cup it just happens—drinks or shots are usually shoved in your face so of course they get drunk.
And they did—drink that is. They also partied until they made it back to their hotel room and this part Shane does remember because it’s where Ilya took him apart. Completely and thoroughly fucked him. It was very much reciprocated.
June 2025
“I’m fucking a Stanley Cup winner.” Ilya said between hard thrusts and panting.
Shane scoffed, “I already have three cups under my belt before this–”
“Yeah but none with me.” Ilya’s cock was ruthless fucking in and out of him while Shane was fucked into the hotel mattress. Face down, ass up in the air. Ilya’s hands gripping into his hips using him like a fleshlight. “This is best one.”
Shane loved this. Being stuffed and filled and used by his husband. God he still couldn’t get over the fact they were married and both Ottawa Centaurs and just won their first Stanley Cup together.
“Fuck–” Shane murmured as his hole was fluttering around Ilya’s cock. The position he was in didn’t really allow him to touch his own aching dick but he really didn’t mind it right now because he could feel the intense heat that was his prostate being worked over as Ilya’s cockhead caught on it with each grind of his hips. The pleasure began to ceremoniously build and he was completely gone for it.
There was a heat in his gut that could only come from him coming untouched. It wasn’t something that he could achieve often but the vigor with which Ilya was fucking him mixed with the adrenaline from their win was enough to let him feel everything. The small pin pricks as his body inched closer to the edge of release. It was never a quick buildup, it wasn’t needy and desperate but more of a slow and syrupy kind of one. Yes he needed it but he also thoroughly enjoyed the feeling and relaxed into it. Feeling Ilya’s cock twitch inside him making them both a little weak in the knees.
“Ohhh—that’s it Hollander, come on my cock. You’re so close.” Ilya cooed. It wasn’t filthy or dirty the way Ilya spoke to him, despite the last name drop. It was full of love, praise and adoration. Encouraging him.
“You—first...” Shane said breathlessly.
“No. You. Is my reward for winning goal.”
“Okay and what about my assist.” Ilya pulled his body in and started to move at a much slower pace. Teasing Shane. Ilya knew his body in and out and that this calculated rhythm was putting more pressure on his prostate that would tip him over the edge. Soon.
“Fuck you.”
“I am.”
Ilya groaned.
“Same time.” Shane suggested knowing that making it a challenge instead of a competition would be enough to convince Ilya.
“Mhm”
Then Shane felt the warm sensations beginning to flood his body. And he was rendered almost speechless as he continued to babble ‘ah’s’ and ‘oh’s’ with each new thrust.
“How about I let you score this time and I will assist.”
Shane wanted to object—to pull back or flip them over, to take the control, wrap his legs around Ilya forcing him to come in his ass but there were two problems with that. One, Shane was too far gone and nothing was going to stop him from reaching the finish line now and two, Ilya’s firm grip on him was keeping him perfectly locked into place.
“Ah—fuck.” Shane gasped in Ilya’s ear.
His body teetered closer to the release and now he was at the precipice. It wasn’t a quick finish but a more drawn out one as each wave of his orgasm lit through his body and with each zap a little bit of cum dribbled out of his slit and onto his chest pooling on the sheet below.
“Ilya—” Shane rasped.
“I know moy lyubimyy.” Ilya’s own climax was right there as well. Ilya continued to pick up speed chasing his own release—milking Shane for every last drop of cum he’d had stored in his balls until he was spent and blissed out bordering on overstimulation. But he loved it. The grunts and coos that spilled from Ilya’s lips as he finished. The twitch of his cock in his hole. The warm rush of cum flooding his insides. Dripping down the backs of his thighs. Nothing compared to this feeling except maybe being on the ice.
Once Ilya has finished and pulled out. He swiped his tongue against the back of Shane's legs and his abused hole. Slurping up any of the forlorn cum.
“Mm” Ilya hummed.
Once Shane was finally licked and sucked clean despite whatever cum lingered inside him. Ilya lay on his back and Shane cuddled up on his chest.
“I bet we are the first to do that.” Ilya muttered.
“Do what?”
“Fuck.”
“Umm—I’m sure other winners have fucked after their Stanley Cup win.”
“Sure.” He paused and pulled Shane in to look at him directly in his warm eyes. “-but not as husbands and teammates.”
Shane’s heart pounded against his ribcage. And Ilya leaned in, capturing Shane’s lips in a tender and loving kiss.
When he pulled back Shane just smiled. “Okay you’re right but can we also be the second? I really wanna win again next year too.”
Ilya chuckled. “I expect it and no coming untouched till we win again.”
Shane gasped.
“You wouldn’t.”
Ilya responded by smirking and rubbing a thumb over his lips. “Guess you will find out, Hollander. Better start practicing if you want to get game winning goal next year.”
“Fuck you.”
“Tomorrow. Sleep now superstar.” Shane grinned.
Ilya kissed his temple then rolled back onto his pillow.
They were both spent and ready to succumb to the exhaustion.
“Ya tebya lyublyu.”
“I love you always.” Ilya replied and gathered Shane’s bruised knuckles, pressing a soft kiss to them before sleep finally took over.
July 2025
It was late July and the Irina Foundation was in their second week of hockey camp. The first week in Ottawa was smooth sailing. Only a few cuts and scrapes and one minor injury but that was his own husband’s doing. And he wasn’t even on the ice. Ilya had Shane pressed against a shelf in the equipment room after all the kids had left. Yuna was still in the office and some of the other coaches had lingered but Ilya grabbed Shane’s hand and dragged him inside claiming that it was ‘so sexy the way he took charge today’ and that’s how they ended up frotting against a shelf before it tipped over.
Despite Shane being the one pressed against the metal. Ilya managed to take the brunt of the fallen rack protecting Shane and lifting it off both of them.
“Shane! Ilya! Is everything okay? I heard a noise—” Yuna stormed in just as Ilya was pushing the shelf off of them. Equipment scattered everywhere. “...oh my.”
Shane’s cheeks flushed pink. He was pretty sure with the way they were positioned it was extremely apparent what they had been doing in here.
Yuna didn’t care or decided to not address it however because she had already crossed the room helping clear a path.
She held out her hand and Ilya had made sure Shane had grabbed up onto it first removing himself from the chaos while Ilya waited for him to give the signal that he was okay. Shane gave a quick nod and thumbs up. Ilya nodded back then attempted to free himself from the mess.
“Ah–”
“Ilya.” Yuna asked in response to Ilya’s whimper. “Are you okay?”
“Mm fine.” Ilya tried to stand but only managed to move upward slightly before falling back down hissing and wincing as he went.
“Ilya.” Shane met him and helped pull him out. “Where does it hurt?”
“Nowhere.”
Yuna gave Ilya a disapproving look but followed it up with a more gentle worried one. “Ilya sweetie, just tell us where it hurts and we can help.”
“Doesn’t.” Ilya muttered through gritted teeth. Shane was still holding him up for support.
“Mom, I got this, don't worry, just go finish the paperwork and we’ll meet you at the car.” Shane and Ilya had plans to eat dinner with the Hollanders that evening. David had cooked Ilya’s favorite—chicken parmesan.
“Okay…” Yuna said hesitantly, backing out of the room but keeping her eyes locked on Ilya before she paused in the doorway. “Twenty minutes tops.” Yuna said glaring at them. “Or I’m calling the paramedics myself.”
Shane waved her off. “Yep.” Yuna left the room. Shane waited till the echoes of her footsteps were no longer audible before speaking to his husband.
He helped Ilya perch on a nearby piece of equipment.
Ilya groaned as he went down.
“Oh…moy erm..poor…rebenok.” Shane leaned down and kissed his hands. “You don’t have to pretend with me, and act like it doesn't hurt.”
Ilya rested his head on Shane’s shoulder. He let out a deep exhale.
“Shane–”
“I’m right here. Tell me what hurts?”
Ilya paused, “My knee.” he whispered then closed his eyes and sunk even deeper into Shane’s shoulder.
Ilya had been having knee problems ever since he took a rogue puck a few years back. He didn’t get immediate treatment so unfortunately it meant that even despite the encouragement to do physical therapy the damage had already been done so now when had a flare up he usually would get an injection and play through it but every once and awhile it would bother him and no injection of any amount of medication helped. So of course the falling debris and shelf had hit the most sensitive spot on Ilya’s body.
“Ilya–” Shane bent forward and down, this time kneeling in between Ilya’s legs placing a soft kiss on his clothed knee.
“Is fine. I swear.”
Shane pressed into it with his thumb.
Ilya winced.
Shane shot him a look. “Mhm. Fine, you say?”
“Yes. Could an injured man do this?” Ilya quickly stood and reached down to scoop Shane up in his arms but failed miserably. Then sunk back to the floor. Tail between his legs.
“I’m calling the team doctor tomorrow.”
“But–”
“No arguments.”
“Fine. But I’m gonna jerk you off later tonight.”
A shiver went down Shane’s spine and his fingertips tingled.
“As long as you don’t do it with your knee.”
“That is silly. You cannot jerk someone off with your knee.”
“Is that a challenge, Rozanov?” Shane smirked.
“Are you always this horny, Hollander?” And with that Ilya carefully got up and left the room.
“C’mon moya gryaznaya gubka.” Ilya teased.
Shane rolled his eyes. Did Ilya just call him a dirty dish sponge? He wasn’t sure if that was rude or endearing.
Ilya had already exited the room with a subtle limp when Shane started to stand up but immediately had to grab the wall for support. He felt dizzy. Lightheaded. Maybe even a little nauseous.
Shane sunk back down to the floor still holding onto the wall. He needed a minute. It was fine. Surely he just had gotten up too quickly. Plus they did work pretty hard today on the ice with the kids and all he had was a small portion of kale and salmon for lunch so maybe he just needed something hearty like the chicken parm from his dad. Then he’d feel better.
After a minute or so he started to slowly raise up again this time with more ease and less restriction. The dizziness and lightheadedness lingered in the back of his mind but he seemed more than fine now. His stomach did still feel a bit uneasy though.
Shane swallowed it down and made his way back to the main area of the arena. Everyone like he suspected had left. He checked the office and found his mom still working on that paperwork then headed for Ilya’s SUV. They carpooled that day and picked Yuna up so they could all meet back for dinner at the Hollander residence.
Ilya was sitting inside of the car. Listening to his favorite divorced dad rock playlist. Shane couldn’t help but smile as he lip-synced along. God he loved this man.
He felt a bump on his shoulder. It was his mom. “Look at him. So happy.”
She pulled him down and kissed the top of his head. “He’s a good one. I’m glad you have each other.”
Shane smiled while staring at his husband. “Yeah me too.”
Yuna started to walk toward the car. She turned for a second. “Also please keep your husband shenanigans at your own homes please.
Shane turned scarlet.
“Sorry mom.” Shane winced.
Yuna was already turned back around waving him off.
***
Ilya pulled up to the Hollander residence and the trio made their way inside but as soon as Yuna opened the door Shane felt his stomach lurch as the air from the house wafted around his nostrils. And before he knew it he was hurling into the bushes.
“Woah.” Ilya shouted but quickly he pivoted from shock to helping hold back his hair.
“Oh Shane, baby.” His mom’s voice pricked his ears as Shane continued to get sick in her bushes.
His mouth felt gross so he spit the rest of it’s contents into the shrub before pulling back up.
“What’s going on out here?” David spoke. Then paused when he saw Shane bent over the hedge. "Oh. Is he okay?”
Shane was still wavering over the greenery but at least he wasn’t throwing up anymore. They all stared at him. Ilya grabbed his shoulder and helped him inside.
“Let’s sit him down.” Yuna said and pointed at the couch.
“I’ll grab some ginger ale.” His father’s voice already echoed as he was headed toward the kitchen.
“Baby. Look at me.” Shane looked at Ilya. He still felt sick despite staring into the eyes of his gorgeous husband.
Ilya grabbed his face. Shane nodded. “What do you need?”
“Bathroom–” he barely managed before he full-on sprinted to his family’s guest washroom.
Ilya was hot on his tail. Yuna and David were behind him.
He hurled into the toilet.
Ilya once again held his hair and rubbed his back. “Is alright. Let it out.”
After another two rounds Shane finally was able to remove his head from the porcelain bowl and slouch against the tub.
“Sweetheart.” He heard his mom speak. “Should we get you to an urgent care?”
Shane shook his head. “No.”
“Are you sure?” Ilya asked.
“Yes.”
Shane was actually feeling a lot better now that he had emptied his stomach. The smell still lingered though so what he really needed was some fresh air, and the ginger ale in his dad’s hand and to go lay down in his own bed.
“Drink.” Ilya said as David handed him the cup with a straw, helping him drink the carbonated beverage.
He took slow sips. After a few gulps he attempted to stand.
“Wait.” They all barked out.
“No, I’m fine. I think I just need some fresh air.”
“Let me help.” Ilya helped him up and walked him out the front door.
Shane breathed in the cool air and sat on the porch swing. The cool summer breeze was definitely helping. He still couldn’t believe that salmon from earlier caused all this. Shane always made sure he sourced his salmon from reputable places but surely something must’ve gone wrong.
Ilya eventually joined him.
“Hi.”
“Hey.”
“Feel better?”
“Much.”
“What’s that?” Shane nodded in the direction of the Tupperware container in his hand.
“Oh. David gave me food to take home.”
“Oh.” he paused at the realization. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Is alright. Let’s go home.”
Ilya helped him into the car. His parents waved from the door as they drove off.
He felt terrible. Ilya loved family nights and he was taking that from him by getting sick. Hopefully his food poisoning would end quickly though. They had another long day of camp tomorrow and he could not miss it.
September 2025
“Baby you have to wake up.”
“Five more minutes.” Shane sighed into the pillow.
“You said that five minutes ago.” Ilya said in a sweet tone. Then traced his thumb over his face and down his cheek before leaning down to press a kiss on his lips. “Is first day of training camp.”
Shane groaned. Mostly because he was tired but also Ilya kissed him without either of them brushing their teeth. Shane couldn’t care too much though because he’d never been so exhausted before in his life. It was a bone-chilling exhaustion like he could feel it deep within and no matter how much sleep he got he was still so goddamn tired all the time. He’d hoped maybe it would just go away by the time training camp started but alas it did not and now here he was for the first time in his life dreading to start the season.
Even before when a season started and he had to leave behind his domestic cottage life with Ilya for several months he was still excited about the hockey aspect of it but right now his body could only focus on the physical depletion he’s been feeling as of late.
Ilya pulled the blanket back.
“Hey!” Shane yelped.
“Tough love.”
Shane grabbed the second duvet and threw himself under it. Gripping onto it tight.
“No. We cannot be late.”
Shane whined then gave Ilya his signature Shane Hollander pout.
Ilya just rolled his eyes. Then sat down next to Shane. He put his hand on his forehead.
“Hm—”
“What?” Shane said as he peaked out from under the cover.
“No fever.”
“I’m not sick.”
“Are you sure?”
“Uh yeah.” Actually he wasn’t. He had been tired but that’s probably just from eating like shit in the off season. Ilya was a terrible influence on him and now being out meant they could go on dates in public and that meant Ilya was wine-ing and dining him at all the best places. Shane may have been indulging in lots of savory dishes. And dessert on occasion.
“Then you must be dying. That’s the only explanation why the Shane Hollander does not want to play hockey.” Ilya threw his hand over his forehead and made a dramatic face for his next declaration. “I am too young to be a widow but maybe I can call up Svetlana to comfort me in my grief.”
“Over my dead body.”
“Well yes. Right on the grave. That is plan.”
“Ilya!” He hopped out of bed.
“Ha! I knew that would work. You are so easy when you are jealous.”
Shane crossed his arms and rolled his eyes as he headed for the bathroom to get ready.
Ilya followed behind him.
“So if not dying then why are you trying to skip training camp.”
“I’m not. Just tired I guess.”
“Hm–”
“What?” Shane’s tone came out a bit more annoyed then he’d meant it too.
“Nothing.” Then he mumbled under his breath, “Just that I must have gave it to you good last night if you are so tired.”
“What was that?”
“Like I said. Nothing.”
Ilya left the bathroom. Shane figured to make them both coffee and probably a quick—hopefully nutritious—breakfast.
Shane stood in front of the mirror staring at his reflection. He certainly did not feel his best today. Sure he was thirty-four years old and not a spring chicken but he still was in good shape and ate decently well. Shane figured he’d still have a few years left of hockey in him but maybe he was wrong. Maybe this was his last season.
He tugged on his face attempting to smooth out the wrinkle lines. Shane had a great skincare routine but nothing would stop mother nature and father time. Then he focused closer on his hair and saw a few grey ones. He’d known they were there. Ilya had pointed them out before. Called him an old man even—teasingly of course and Ilya said he looked like a DILF. Shane questioned where he’d learned but apparently Harris was the culprit. Shane didn't think he could be a DILF since he was technically not checking off the ‘D’ part of the acronym even if Ilya said they were both proud dog daddies to Anya. In the end he decided he was not upset by the grey hair and wanted to embrace his new found DILF look.
He turned on the sink, cupped his hands gathering some water from the spout and splashed the icy cold water on his face. He followed it up with his normal skin routine, got dressed and then headed for the kitchen to find Ilya.
If this was his last season then he needed to shake this feeling and really put in the work. Shane wanted to go out with a bang. Maybe win another cup. Plus the Olympics were in February and the NHL was finally allowed to play again. This year Ilya was eligible to play for their country as well thanks to their marriage a few years back he applied for citizenship. Shane looked forward to getting the gold this time.
Ilya was pouring coffee in travel cups when Shane bounced in and kissed his cheek. Showing off that he was better now. He wasn’t but Ilya didn’t need to know that. Shane could act. Rose gave him a masterclass on it once. He even learned a trick to cry on demand. Hopefully that wouldn't been necessary today but it was nice to keep in his back pocket. For now he needed to appear not sick.
It shouldn’t be too hard.
“Good morning, moya lyubov.” Shane said as he pulled off Ilya’s face.
Ilya eyed him suspiciously as he handed him the cup.
“I am keeping my eye on you today, Hollander.”
Shane grabbed two containers of his overnight oats from the fridge and spoons before heading for the garage but not before he could respond to Ilya.
“Well of course you will because I will be out skating you all day at training camp. You’ll be seeing my butt and eating my dust, Rozanov.”
Ilya smirked. “What if I just eat your ass instead." Licking his lips and winking as he followed Shane to the car. Juggling their coffee, the keys and both of their bags.
“I don’t think our teammates or Coach Wiebe would appreciate seeing that on center ice.”
“And why not?” Ilya put the bags in the trunk while Shane got into the passenger seat.
“Umm I mean it’s kind of...intimate.”
“Their loss.” Ilya got into the driver's seat and started the engine. “Harris will be sad.”
“Harris is in a committed relationship. I don't think he cares about seeing you eat me out.”
“I meant for the social media stuff.”
“You want Harris to use a pornagraphic video of us to promote the Centaurs?”
“Think about the likes.” He started to pull out of the driveway. “Is what the fans want.”
“Huh?”
“Haven’t you seen the comment section on the Centaurs’ posts?”
“No…”
“Oh well they are shitting us.”
“You mean shipping?”
“Yes that.”
“But we’re already together so they don’t really need to ship us.”
“Tell that to our fans.”
Ilya drove them to the arena—their normal commute. Stopping at the lights. Looking in his mirrors all while
holding a conversation with Shane.
“I don’t understand. What are they asking?"
“I have seen comments that we start an OnlyFans...”
Shane spit out the little coffee he had just taken a sip of.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“They want to pay us to watch us have sex.” Ilya said it matter-of-factly.
“Yeah I got that.”
“Okay.”
“We're not doing that by the way.”
Ilya blew a raspberry at him.
“So boring, Hollander. No fun.”
October 2025
It was the season opener and they were on the final leg of the third period. They also happened to be on a power play.
Shane had been exhausted the whole game. No scratch that the whole week. He may have pushed himself too hard in the gym and on the ice but right now it was the first game of the season and right off last year's win. They were playing against the Nashville Vultures at home.
A respectable team for sure but they should not be tied with them 2-2 right now. They should be winning.
There were thirty seconds left on the power play and already three shots on goal. All missed.
A defenseman passed it to Barrett who then passed it to Ilya who then had to pass back to Barrett and then finally Shane saw it. His opening.
Barrett had .2 seconds to decide but still Shane got into place. Barrett passed back to Ilya and he set up the shot but then at the last second he did a fake out and passed it back to Barrett before finally handing it off to Shane where he was angled just right to make the shot in the last few seconds of the power play.
Shane saw the puck glide on the ice. He settled it then quickly moved into position with his stick to hit it before the other team could react. Shane pulled his stick back then used all his available strength left to sink it into the back of the net. A flawless execution.
He heard the buzzer of the goal alarm and the loud boom of the fans in the arena. Loud cheers from his teammates but then suddenly it all became muffled.
Shane thought at that moment he might pass out because now he was swaying back and forth. Ilya and Barrett were already on him. Celebrating the goal. The adrenaline kept him going. Kept him standing.
The game resumed and with only less than a minute left on the clock and a 3-2 lead all they had to do was keep the puck as far away from Hayes as they could. And hey if they scored again then that would only solidify their win.
The Vultures had been giving it their all and getting extremely aggressive with each pass the Centaurs did between each other. Most players rushed them and slammed them hard against the boards. Not a completely uncommon thing in hockey but it felt a bit more intense then normal maybe but not terribly so. They wanted to score. To go into overtime but the Centaurs didn’t want that so they pushed back. Harder. Especially Ilya.
There was one player. Zach Winters who was out for blood. He first pushed into Haas earlier in the game. Getting himself a penalty and the Centaurs their first power play allowing Haas to score the first goal of the game.
By the second period Winters had attempted to hold Barrett while attempting a shot on goal. How he managed to get himself out of that penalty Shane was unsure but regardless these things continued to piss Ilya off so much so that in the third period he made sure to give Winters a nice little surprise and tripped him so he’d fall flat on his face in front of everyone.
Now Ilya did get in the box for this one and the Vultures ended up scoring on the power play so in the end Winters couldn’t be too mad.
At least that’s what Shane thought.
It was the last thirty seconds and the Vultures were pushing hard…literally. Shane had received a pass from one of the defensemen and he was about to pass it to Bood when all of a sudden he was rushed and slammed hard against the boards.
His whole body was in agony. Winters was a large guy and Shane felt his fury when he was pushed against the rinks walls. And just like that Shane had lost the puck. It was passed to one of the Vulture’s defensemen.
Fuck.
Winters then pressed into him one more time. “You should thank your boyfriend for this.” Then Zach punched him right in the face. “They should’ve kicked you both out of the league. Disgusting.” He then spit in Shane’s face barely missing his skin instead it splattered across the clear plastic visor of his helmet.
The buzzer sounded.
The game was over.
And Shane was in an insurmountable amount of pain. Then he heard the faint noise of familiarity. “Shane!”
But before he could see who it was, everything went dark.