Chapter Text
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Shane's POV
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Shane Hollander, named the best ice hockey player the world has seen, has had a recent moment of self discovery. After dating the woman everyone wants, he could not for the life of him get hard for the superstar. Rose Landry had to tell him to his face that she thinks he is gay, he could not agree more. Who the hell can’t get it hard for this ridiculously sexy movie star, if they are not gay?
As he slowly starts to accept his sexuality, he starts to notice the men he has been sharing locker rooms with for over 8 years, no shit he hadn’t figured himself out, none of them were even slightly up to his standards. I mean, Hayden isn’t half bad, but he is like the closest thing he has to a brother.
He starts to think back to times he might have found someone the least smidge attractive. He can only think of a certain Russian professional pain in the ass, Ilya Rozanov. The competitiveness between the two of them, had Shane sticking his hands down his pants after every game he had ever played against the only other player that qualified to be on the same level as him. Shane hadn’t thought much about why his hands gravitated south after each game, he had thought it was the adrenaline, the thrill. He looks back on it and thinks, maybe it’s just that I’m fucking gay, and my arch rival is super hot.
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One night after playing Boston and winning 5-3 against his super hot rival. He does not go out with his team to celebrate, but to go home and calm his aching dick with some alone time. He was the last one to shower, so no one would notice it. No one would blame him, because playing damn good hockey, like he played today, would get anyone hot and bothered.
When he gets home, he does something he hasn’t really done before. He makes a twitter account hole4goals24 he hopes that isn’t too obvious. He starts looking up different hashtags and looking at different retweet accounts. He stumbles upon an account with a man stroking his dick like it’s his last day on earth. Shane can't help but notice how long and girthy the other man is. With his right hand occupied, he can’t help but think how on earth can anyone walk around with a snake like that in their pants. He knows that his is well above average, but he hasn’t in his years of living in locker rooms seen anything this massive.
He is pretty close to the edge already, but he decides to click on the monster’s profile. He can’t help but feel the need to see more of him. He needs to see more of him. The hockey star scrolls for what feels like hours. He has already came a handful of times. But no amount of masturbation can clench the thirst he has for this anonymous man.
This guy has really been posting for years, like over 4 years. He has an OnlyFans link. Shane does not care how much it costs. He orders a new phone, just for the sake of having notifications on twitter and the OnlyFans app downloaded without any chance of questioning.
Shane Hollander, is officially obsessed.
Every night he gets himself ready for bed and opens his new phone. He studies every mole, every inch of his ripped body. Imagining what it’s like licking, touching, riding every inch of the man on the screen. Now occupying his every waking thought. If he wasn’t on the ice, playing some damn good hockey and carrying the league, he would be thinking of his favorite camboy.
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Ilya's POV
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Ilya Rozanov has always had an interest in Shane Hollander. Ever since he first heard of him, he has been infatuated with Shane Hollander. He liked to think that there was another individual on his level in the sport. Now that he had seen what the freckled beast looked like, he couldn’t help but be obsessed.
Studying every movement he made. Watching every game that had been recorded of the man the media dubbed his arch rival. He absolutely did not want to be dubbed anything but his husband, but he will live. Sparks always flew when they played against each other on the ice. It was like it was on fire. When Boston played Montreal, every time the captains faced-off on the ice, Rozanov could not help but chirp utterly filthy things to the other captain.
“You are so tense, Hollander.” he chirps “You want to come over to my hotel room after the game? I can do a few things to help you relax.” he smirks and wiggles his eyebrows as he tries to rile up the other captain. Others might think he is joking. When it comes to Shane Hollander, he is nothing but dead serious.
“I hear you like to fantasize about anything other than the puck going into our net tonight.” Hollander chirps back, “I think you should focus on that for now, and your dick later.” He has a shit eating grin plastered across his face, a rare sight to see.
Rozanov can’t help but feel dumbstruck by the response from the man before him. After all these years, he has never gotten a chirp back from Hollander. He loses the face-off, but quickly snaps back to the game. He cannot show weakness before the beast.
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Later that night in his hotel room, he cannot stop thinking about what The Shane ‘Hockey Robot’ Hollander had said to him during their intimate time on the ice. After all these years, had he finally realized that all the freaky things he had chirped to the other captain over the years, were all attempts to get inside his pants?
Ilya is not lost in the sauce, he is drowning in it. The man could go out with his team, and enjoy the Montreal night life. But with the state he is in, cannot go out like this. He has been locked in a daze ever since he got back from the arena. Ilya is so drunk on the words uttered to him by his freckled fantasy.
The bulge in his pants is seconds away from ripping out of them. He goes into the bathroom, there he finds a man looking so riled up, he doesn’t even recognize himself. The man props up his phone against the bathroom vanity and hits record. He starts stroking his length roughly, imagining the silhouette he has only been able to see in Calvin Klein commercials. Ilya had studied every inch of what has been shown to him and the world, and let his imagination handle the rest.
He made an OnlyFans to feed his exhibition kink, and to feed into the idea that Shane Hollander might some day stumble upon his page. A man can dream.
Lilys4Jane pseudo he came up with spontaneously after filming his first video. A bit on the nose, but what does he care, he wants his Jane to find these fucking lilys. The first video he posted was muted. Only Ilya knew what highlighted his body in the dark room he was sitting in. His flat screen tv was showing 'Shane Hollander best goals | NHL compilation'. The fans insisted that they wanted to hear the beautiful noises that he made, so he caved. Now he almost exclusively films after Boston vs Montreal games, so he can show the world how fucking hot and bothered his Shane gets him.
After reliving himself a couple of times, he stops recording and posts the video to his OnlyFans. The satisfaction is never met like he wants to. He wants Shane Hollander to be his. To be the only thing Hollander can think about, the only thing he ever wants. He jumps into bed, still rock hard, and pulls up his tablet to see the post game interview that Hollander had done after the game.
“How does it feel beating the Boston Raiders yet again?” an interviewer asks.
“Well, it is always fun to play against someone on my level.” He answers earnestly. “Even after all these years, it’s still the best feeling to beat Rozanov.” Hollander smirks and looks at the camera. “I bet he enjoys being beat by me” he winks and walks back to the locker rooms.
Ilya is going insane, the horny frenzy he thought he beat out of himself, came back. Only this time, he knows he cannot satiate it. “ Fuck ” he growls in his native tounge. He has to have him on his dick within the next hour, or he will have to be locked in a jail cell for the next week.
He tries to see if he can soothe himself, one last time. To no surprise, it does not.
He takes a quick shower, and then heads out to see if some vodka and ladies can calm him down.