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Shane hadn’t meant to do it. It was purely reflex. Instinctual.
It was taught at a very young age that when the body feels threatened the brain will choose the most adrenaline pumped response: fight, flight, or freeze. Typically, Shane’s brain preferred flight, it was the most comforting response; even though it often left him with distasteful consequences.
But this time, it chose to fight. Hence the growing swell surrounding Ilya’s left eye and the steady flow of blood pooling in his hands from his nose.
“Fuck, I told you to stop!” Shane came jogging back with tissues from the bathroom. He crouched down next to fetal positioned Ilya, his dramatics clearly conveyed as he rocks himself back and forth.
“Shane! You fucking punched me! So cruel,” Ilya whined, yanking the tissues from Shane’s hand and messily stuffing it under his nose.
Shane rolled his eyes and pulled Ilya into a sitting position before tugging his head back to adjust his poorly done nose plugging. “You have to keep your head tilted if you want it to stop.”
“It wouldn’t need to stop if you didn’t fucking punch.”
“It wouldn’t need to stop if you would’ve fucking listened and stopped tickling me.”
Yup, this all happened because Shane is extremely ticklish and Ilya believes that’s the most exploitable trait any human could have. Like an idiot, in Shane’s humble opinion, Ilya caught him off guard and berated his midriff and armpits in an unrelenting attack of Ilya’s fingers.
It was all so sudden, they were cuddled peacefully on their couch — Shane vulnerably tucked into Ilya’s side — watching the latest episode of House of the Dragon because Ilya insisted they needed to be prepared to argue with Wyatt on why Team Green deserved the crown. They made small back and forth conversation, but really, Ilya was way too engrossed pretending not to care about the neglected princess.
It was so domestic. So peaceful.
Until it fucking wasn’t when Ilya pinned him down on the couch, caging him between his thighs like a wild animal. Shane felt so weak and not in the hot way. No, he felt a debilitating dread pump through his body as his neurons fired at an illegal speed with every touch to his skin. He hated the way his body reacted in a laugh, making the attack seem welcomed when it was everything but. His protests were coated in his painful fit of laughter that Ilya must've taken as an entertained sign to continue.
Before his conscious could catch up with reality, he felt the smooth flesh of Ilya’s under eye area in a glide straight to his nose against the ridges of his knuckles. Naturally, everything stilled aside from the roar of a dragon blaring from the TV. Shane’s eyes were tightly shut, his erratic breathing turned into deep regulated gulps. He was focused on getting himself in order, calming his racing mind, not even sparing a thought as to why the tickling ceased.
That was until the loss of a 220 pound weighted blanket dropped off of him and let out a string of Russian curses. His eyes flew open at that moment, immediately landing on Ilya who lay in the most pathetic fetal position. Yet, for once in his panic induced life, he didn’t feel the all familiar sensation of his head stuffed with cotton.
What he did feel was mild pity for the Russian putting on the worst display of theatrics. He’s watched Ilya get shoved into the boards with a force that had medics at the ready. He’s watched Ilya get into fights with players twice his size and walk away with a shit eating grin. Shane’s punch, while not forgiving in force at all, was nothing. At least Shane thought.
Really, the victim here was Shane. His core rocked against his flesh, buzzing as if all fifty states celebrated the Fourth of July in his guts, the sparkling feeling nauseated him. Nevertheless, he went to Ilya’s aid, hence the run for tissues.
“Oh wow, Shane. I was just embracing my husband’s beautiful body,” Ilya whined.
“No, you were abusing your husband’s–”
“Beautiful.”
“…body. I’m sorry, okay? But I hate being tickled,” Shane said, shrugging his shoulders.
“Mm, okay.”
“Are you mad?”
“Mm, no. I enjoyed getting sucker punched in a non sexy way, Shane,” Ilya deadpanned.
“You–there’s no way you’re mad.” Shane’s mouth flew open, genuinely astounded. He would warrant the anger if he was in the wrong. But he wasn’t.
“You can make me feel better with a kiss.” Ilya pouted but his finger made a gesture to point to his dick.
Shane scoffed. “Fuck you. Come here.” Shane pulled Ilya back on the couch, laying him flush against his back. Ilya wore a stupid giddy expression, seemingly thinking this was ending in his favor. Shane left a small kiss next to Ilya’s eye before standing from the couch.
Ilya caught his wrist before he could move away further, a deep furrow sitting in the middle of his eyebrows. “What are you doing? My dick is down there.”
“I’m not sucking your dick.”
“But Shane, I’m in pain. So so sooo much pain.”
“Right and that’s why I’m going to get ice. Stay right there you big baby.” Shane shook his hand free and walked back to the kitchen.
He grabbed one of the many ice packs from their freezer, a precious commodity for the world's most competitive couple. He wrapped a damp paper towel around it before finishing it off with a dry paper towel.
Upon his return to the living room, he was graced by the sight of Ilya hosting a photoshoot on the couch. Ilya was still laying in the position Shane left him in, his phone lifted in the air as clicks sounded off from the device. Shane watched Ilya make the same pouty face with very little variance in poses. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips, watching his husband preparing to source for sympathy from the public that has increasingly grown fond of their relationship.
He flopped on top of Ilya, a startled oof leaving Ilya’s mouth. He gently placed the ice pack on Ilya’s swollen eye, careful not to apply too much pressure. He felt a wave of adoration wash over him looking down at the wounded man. Ilya wore a characteristically beaming smile with hazel eyes that twinkled in pure delight. Shane pushed Ilya’s curls out of his face, wanting to drink in every feature his eyes could find. Every ounce of annoyance slowly drained out of his system the longer Ilya stared at him with those puppy dog eyes, so innocent and free.
“I’m sorry too, Shane. I didn’t know you hated it that bad. Please, forgive me with a kiss?” Ilya made duck lips, smacking them together making an annoyingly wet sound.
Shane’s eyes flicked to Ilya’s mouth, his own drawing close to fill the gap like a magnet. The kiss was soft, unhurried and reassuring. Their mouths rested against one another, refusing to break the seal with an intruding tongue. Shane wanted to offer Ilya comfort in the best way he knew how – simply being in his space. He would make sure to mention just how displeased he was with being tickled, but for now the peace in this moment didn’t deserve to be interrupted.
At least he thought so. He felt Ilya’s smile grow wider on his lips before the shutter of a camera cut through the silence.
“Did you just take a photo of us kissing?” Shane didn’t bother to open his eyes, he simply reoriented himself so that his head lay in the crook of Ilya’s neck, hand still nursing the ice pack on Ilya’s eye.
“Yes, kotenok. Fans may worry,” Ilya replied.
“Why would they?” Shane questioned, peeking one eye open.
“Because I’m the favorite husband between us,” he responded like it was obvious.
“Yeah and Scott Hunter is the best hockey player in the NHL,” Shane said dryly.
Ilya’s eyes widened and his mouth flew open, his phone falling dramatically on the rug. “Low blow, Hollander. Low blow.”
“What? I thought we were saying silly jokes?” Shane teased.
“My husband does not joke. He does not even know what joke is. You must not be my Shane.” Ilya smirked, turning his face towards Shane to show the mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. Ilya’s hands snaked their way to Shane’s waist, his thumb drawing small circles on his sides.
Shane opened his other eye, lifting his face away from Ilya to show his unamused expression. Through gritted teeth, Shane said, “Don’t you fucking dare, Rozanov.”
***
ilyarozanov81✅
[A new Instagram carousel was uploaded, containing two photos and one video. The first slide was a photo of Ilya laying on the couch, sporting a pout while pointing to his swollen eye. His tissue plugged nose soaked in blood. The second slide was a video of Anya looking past the camera, a sad whimper filling the audio as she nudged at Ilya’s cheek. The last slide was a photo of Shane and Ilya sharing a kiss, tangled on the couch. Shane was holding up an ice pack to Ilya’s eye, and you could see the absolute joy shining on Ilya’s face.]
♡ 350k 💬 100k ⌯⌲ 300
ilyarozanov81 Shane said I’ve been bad
2 hours ago
katehollander_
the people’s princess wouldn’t hurt a fly
puckhead6969
grown man by the way
rozanovsupremacy
who do i need to hurt????
the_lady_loon
Omg Anya is so cute!! She’s so worried for her papa
svetlanavetrova✅
It’s about time he put his hands on you
ilyarozanov81✅
They’re always on me? They’re on me now??
shanehollanderhockeyplayer✅
Because we are cuddling! Very important context 😅
hollanov_vryx
i said, oh i’m sure
wyatthayes✅
Hope that knocked some sense into him to join #TeamBlack
lucahaas✅
😰
haasy_let_me_nurse_you
OMG THEY SCARED MY BABY. BOMB THE HOLLANDER-ROZANOV RESIDENCE
prod.miki
mind you, this was foreplay for them
z_boodram✅
yeah
troy_barrett✅
most definitely
marleaucliff✅
for fucking sure
extradykstra✅
yup
yyyyoung✅
hate that you’re right
ilyarozanov81✅
😁
shanehollanderhockeyplayer✅
Everyone please know that this was NOT intentional. But it was deserved...
yunahollander
Do I need to come rescue my son?
shanehollanderhockeyplayer✅
No? I’m okay?
yunahollander
I meant my favorite one…
ilyarozanov81✅
🤣🤣