Chapter Text
Livestream 1: Tuna melts
"Good morning, Canada!" Ilya flashed a grin into the camera of his iPad he had propped up against a couple jars on his kitchen island. "Well, is 3:48pm which is basically 11am, which is basically morning," he explained with the eloquence of a six year old.
He watched as the number of live viewers shot up almost instantly. His livestreams were always unhinged and entertaining, racking up more viewers than probably anyone else in the league, which was the only reason Harris would ever let that crazy motherfucker anywhere near a camera.
"Listen up, you little shits. My girlfriend is mad at me. So you fuckers,"— he pointed a spoon at the livestream audience as if there was anyone else he could have possibly been talking to—"are going to help me fix it by helping me making her favourite food. Drumroll please!"
Ilya dramatically drummed the spoon and a spatula he had in his other hand on the lid of the mayonnaise jar on the counter.
"Tuna melts! I know, I know, only the best for my Jane," He barked out a laugh and winked. "But is her favourite, and for a very special reason," he grinned like a lunatic.
"So first. We will toast bread. I can only hope you are competent enough to know how to make toast," he said. "Well, unless you are fucking inbred like the new Toronto rookie. He looks like he drinks gasoline. Skates like it too."
He put the bread into the toaster and turned it on before he whirled around to look at the stream again. He paused, reading the comments as he opened the jar of mayonnaise.
"Ah, you,"—he pointed at the screen again, as if that would clarify who he was talking to—"What do you want to know about my Jane?"
The replies were too fast for him to read, so he scrolled up, looking for a question he could answer without Shane committing double homicide on both Ilya and Harris. "My Jane is very private person, so no asking personal shit. No, you cannot see her. She is not ugly, I will kill you if you say anything bad about her. She is perfect."
He paused again for a little longer this time, eyes still focused on the screen, before breaking out into a grin. "Yes, she is incredibly hot. I will not describe too much," he considered.
"No, she is not blonde. She has dark hair, she is extremely sexy and fit, and God," —Ilya tilted his head back and let out an obscene moan which would definitely give Harris a migraine later—"those freckles."
"You assholes do not understand Jane's beauty. I fell in love with her the moment I laid my eyes on those freckles. She is too beautiful for all of you, including me. She is also boring as fuck, but in a good way. She is millionaire, but drives terrible car, and has a weak fucking-" he stopped himself. Shit, he needs to be more careful.
"I love her more than anything, more than hockey, probably. Okay, next question!" He said, remembering what he was doing. He scooped out a couple spoons of Kewpie mayonnaise into the bowl in front of him. Just as he walked over to the fridge for the tuna, he heard footsteps coming down the stairs.
"Hey, sweetheart, I'm live! Camera is over there," Ilya gestured towards the kitchen island. On the other side of the camera, Shane was in his boxers and a Boston Raiders T-shirt, pouting at Ilya as he watched him carefully.
"I'm sorry, solynshko, please forgive me," Ilya begged, walking over to Shane. Shane just shook his head.
"Fuck off," he whispered, turning away from Ilya.
"My darling, please, I have been crying to the internet that I miss you. Please forgive me. I am sorry. I will make it up to you, I promise."
Shane just rolled his eyes and grabbed the collar of Ilya's shirt, pulling him into a deep kiss. Ilya made a surprised sound, but leaned in almost immediately.
Finally, after what felt like ages, Shane pulled away and smiled softly at Ilya's dopey grin and disheveled appearance.
"I fucking love you."
"I love you too," Shane whispered again, kissing Ilya on the nose before going back up the stairs.
"Come upstairs after the stream, for a surprise," Shane winked. Ilya just stared at him, jaw agape, before Shane practically forced him to go back to what he was doing.
Ilya walked back into frame, lips swollen and red and his cheeks flushed. His hair was a mess, which he made zero attempt to fix as he grinned at the camera. It was obvious what had happened behind the scenes, and the way his chat was practically exploding, the fans knew that too.
"My Jane is not mad at me anymore," he said, accent thick with lust. God, Harris was going to combust. "I still have to make tuna melts though, so we will make this very quick." He read the chat again as he mixed the tuna and mayonnaise in a bowl.
"No, we did not fuck! I last longer than five minutes, unlike Hayden Pike. Maybe if he pulled out, he wouldn't have a whole hockey team at home. Jackie is very hot though, so I don't blame him."
"Also, I do not fuck Jane, I make love to her," Ilya said, breathlessly.
"Okay, toast is done. My Jane likes kimchi in her tuna melt so we will add that as well."
"When did we start dating? Well, we have been seeing each other since before my rookie season. But we have only been exclusive for around three years now. No, we do not live together yet. Yes, I moved to Ottawa for her. Wow, you fuckers are fast," he said, assembling the tuna melts and cutting them into four smaller squares.
"Square sandwiches are blasphemy, I know, but it is how my Jane likes them. She has me on tight leash," he mimed pulling at a leash on his neck. He plated the tuna melts and showed the screen proudly, like a kid displaying a drawing to his parents.
"Okay, we are done. Bye bye, internet!"
As soon as he turned off the stream, Ilya dashed upstairs with the plate of sandwiches. He had been uncomfortably hard since Shane kissed him, and he was thankful that it wouldn't be visible on camera. He stepped into the bedroom, eager to see what surprise Shane had for him.
"Shane, I am here- Holy shit," he breathed as his eyes raked over his boyfriend's naked body.
Shane's head was tilted back, mouth open slightly, soft moans spilling out as he slowly fucked himself open with his dildo. He gazed at Ilya through the glasses resting on his nose as he kept riding, the tip of his cock almost as purple as the dildo.
"You gonna fuck me, Rozanov?"—he punctuated his sentence with a loud moan as he angled the toy to hit his prostate—"Or should I do it myself?"
Rachel | FUCK MONTREAL
@ilyasgirl
What even was that live??? Holy shit I've never seen Roz that down bad.
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we miss you ilya 😔 @goraiders81· Mar 11, 2020 Replying to @ilyasgirl
To think Boston's biggest playboy moved to fuckass OTTAWA for this girl 😭😭😭
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mia!!
@shanebug
Oh rozanov is definitely cheating on that poor girl.
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#81 @rozbug · Mar 11 Replying to @shanebug
Oh girl you did not.
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GO RAIDERSSS @michelleboston · Mar 11 Replying to @shanebug
Lmfao Hollander stans being annoying again. Ilya was basically drooling over that woman and even THAT wasn't enough for you??
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The Ottawa Centaurs 
@ottawacentaursnhl
Just one day. One day off is all I ask.
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#81 @rozbug · Mar 11 Replying to @shanebug
LMFAOO poor harris its a shame your captain is funny af
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Cliff Marleau
@marleauraiders
Can confirm Roz has been blushing like a schoolgirl over Jane for years. When will we get to meet her?? @roz81
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ilya rozanov @roz81 · Mar 11 Replying to @marleauraiders
is true, i am extremely whipped. you will meet her at our wedding.
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Troy Barrett
@troybarrett
Congrats on getting engaged, @roz81. Also, stop giving my boyfriend a headache.
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ilya rozanov @roz81 · Mar 11 Replying to @marleauraiders
thank you troy. tell harris i am not sorry. i have sent him vodka for his troubles.
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Harris 🍎 @harrisdrover · Mar 11 Replying to @roz81
You're lucky this is good vodka, Ilya. Also, please never step foot in front of a camera again.
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ilya rozanov
@roz81
thank you for saying yes, дорогой ❤️❤️ i love you 😘 @janeroz24
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Jane @janeroz24 · Mar 12 Replying to @roz81
I love you too, baby ❤️❤️
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