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2026-03-03
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Two Make A Pair

Summary:

5 times Shane and Ilya paired off during a fight + 1 time they could not.

Notes:

This fic is based off this Tumblr post, which talks about how, during hockey fights, players pair off so no one person is against two players. It was so cute that I had to make Shane and Ilya do it.

Huge shoutout to Jess for making this fic happen: thank you for betaing, letting me scream at you, and just being a great friend as always.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

November 2015

Shane does not fight.

He blames his first coach, who told him that the new NHL did not condone any sort of fighting, and if he were to partake in such foolery, he could kiss his dreams of hockey goodbye.

Because now, in the NHL—which, to be clear, absolutely does condone fights—Shane Hollander still does not fight. He is five years into his career, and his involvements in fights are minimal.

He does not start them, he does not end them, and he does not join them,

So, when Rozanov grabs him during a brawl, Shane is absolutely certain he is about to be punched in the face.

He should drop his gloves, right? That's what people do when they fight. They drop their gloves, and they swing.

So he should do that, right? Before Rozanov gets a chance to punch him in the face. He's gotta drop his gloves

Okay, he's got this. Yep.

…why is Rozanov just standing there.

"…aren't you supposed to be fighting me?" Shane asks.

Rozanov tilts his head toward him. "Probably," he says. "But I am feeling lazy today."

Shane blinks. "So what, you're just gonna," he stares at where Rozanov holds onto his jersey. "…hold onto me?"

At this, Rozanov gives him a sidelong look. "Would you rather be fighting?"

If the way Shane's shoulders relax at the relief of not having his first fight with Ilya fucking Rozanov, then the answer is no. And pairing off is not uncommon during fights if two players don't want to get caught up in it. Okay. Cool. But: “What if people say something?”

Rozanov waves his hand. “They will say nothing because is normal to pair off during fights. We are captains, is normal for us to—“ Ilya clicks his tongue. “Be examples.”

“…you mean set an example?”

“Da, yes." They both look back out to the ice.

The fight is winding down, and refs are slowly corralling players toward the box and the bench.

So Rozanov should let go of him now.

"…are. you going to let me go?" Shane asks when he doesn't.

"Ah, yes." Rozanov releases Shane, and for a moment, they stare at each other on the ice. Rozanov gives Shane a curt nod, and moves to skate back to Boston's bench. As he's passing Shane, he leans in close for a moment, and for a brief moment, he thinks Rozanov may kiss him in the middle of the rink. The warmth of his breath puffs against the side of his cheek as Rozanov whispers—

"I see you later, Hollander."

—and skates off.

Shane blinks again. He stands, frozen on the ice, trying to act like Rozanov didn't hit him like a truck.

But he's got a game to win. And a date to make.

So, he makes his way back to the bench.

March 2017

Ilya should be more concerned when a defenseman on Montreal starts throwing punches at one of his teammates.

But he cannot blame Montreal for being so frustrated with Boston.

After all, it must be terribly frustrating to be losing 3-0 on home ice.

Someone skates up to his side and grabs the back of his jersey. Ilya swivels around, and already has half a glove off, prepared to duck the punch that is for sure coming—

—only to see freckles.

Shane Hollander grins up at Ilya. “Fancy meeting you here,” Shane quips.

Ilya laughs, bright and loud, and definitely inappropriate when several people around them are trying to kill each other. “Only took so many years to give first chirp. Good work Hollander.”

Shane jabs in him the side with his elbow, but his smile does not falter. “Fuck you.”

“Ah, but you said later.”

Shane shakes his head, smiling fondly. Ilya's looking forward to tonight: there’s nothing quite like the sex after a game, and after the Rose Landry situation, he's ready to get back to normal.

Well, normal for them.

“Your team is unhappy I’m about to score hat trick," Ilya says, just to be an asshole,

“You’re not about to score a hat trick.”

“Hm, two is very close to three.” Ilya thinks for a moment. "You would know, of course, seeing as you came on my cock three—"

“Do you want me to fight you?"

Ilya gives him a lopsided grin. "Maybe."

Shane thwacks his chest, and Ilya is suddenly aware acutely aware his heart is still racing, even though play has stopped for a bit now.

Maybe this is what those pamphlets about the dangers of smoking talked about.

The refs finally get a hold of the situation, so Shane skates back to his bench, with Ilya doing the same.

But, for some reason, it's not until well after he's left Shane's apartment that Ilya feels his heart begins to slow.

Odd.

Very odd.

Maybe he should finally read those pamphlets.

They're a gift from Shane, after all.

October 2018

Shane is not upset.

He's not.

But honestly, what was Comeau thinking?

Shane watches as one of the Centaur's linesman grapples with his teammate and prays that the disdained look on his face is assumed to be for the Centaurs.

Of course, this is when Ilya chooses to collide into Shane.

“Hello bestie,” Ilya croons into Shane’s ear, just to be an asshole.

Shane shoves at him. “Go away.”

“No, I don’t think so.” Ilya slings an arm around Shane’s shoulder. “We are friends now, remember?”

Shane sighs, but begrudgingly, he puts his arm around Ilya’s back. Since the announcement of the Irina Foundation, it did now mean they could be a little more touchy in public than they were before.

But, Shane wants to look at the fight. Ilya must understand because he turns to watch as well.

“….they shouldn’t be fighting.”

“Is hockey. People fight.”

“It wasn’t even fucking dirty.”

Ilya makes a little comme-ci comme-ça motion. "Was little dirty."

"Ilya," Shane warns.

"Is true! Your team is very unkind to us lowly Centaurs who only score one measly point against you."

"You're winning with that one point," Shane points out.

Ilya shrugs. "Probably not for long."

Shane shouldn't laugh. He really shouldn't. It's unsportsmanlike to laugh at another team's struggles.

But he does. Which makes Ilya laugh too, which is one of Shane's favorite sounds in the world. So fuck his unsportsmanlike conduct.

(Shane briefly wonders if the cameras are more focused on the fight, or on the two unlikely friends laughing on the ice.)

There's a whistle. Ilya taps his helmet against Shane's and skates back toward his team, but not before shouting, over his shoulder, "Bye, Shane!"

And if Shane's smiling on his way to the bench, nobody needs to know.

January 2021

The gloves haven’t even hit the ice before Ilya’s crashing into Shane’s side. “Hello my pretty fiancé!”

Shane sighs. “Cameras, Ilya.” But he can’t help the grin on his face.

“Is okay. Canada will know I am practicing my French. Salut Canada!” He says, with a truly atrocious French accent, and Shane can’t help but laugh.

“Wow, you’re a natural.”

Ilya blows a raspberry at him. “Is unfair,” he laments, dramatically leaning into Shane. “I am put always against perfect Canadian Shane Hollander. I must work twice as hard to be good as him.”

Shane leans against him too. Mainly for balance. But also because that’s his husband-to-be. “Must be hard.”

“Yes, is true, I am very hard for Shane Hollan—“

Shane shoves him away, and Ilya cackles, even as refs skate over to separate them. Ilya lets them escort him away, but not before blowing Shane a kiss.

Shane shakes his head, but he's smiling as he skates off.

February 2021

When Troy punches Comeau in the face, Ilya is not surprised.

In fact, he is delighted.

After Troy’s coming out post, some players have been treating Troy differently. Some good. Some bad.

Comeau is one of the worst.

He was about to punch Comeau himself, but Ilya’s proud to see Troy standing his own. His little gay prodigy has come so far.

He looks out onto the ice, searching for a partner. He spots Drapeau, Montreal's backup goalie, and one of Comeau's henchman of hate.

And he is alone.

A smirk grows on Ilya's face. He starts to skate toward Montreal's net, target in sight, when—

“No.”

—his husband-to-be grabs the back of his jersey.

Ilya pouts at Shane. “Please?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Please?”

Shane sighs. Shane does that a lot with Ilya. He may too have problems with his heart, like Ilya does. “I’m not letting you fight a fucking goalie.”

“But he deserves it!” Ilya is not whining. He is giving good reason to punch his fiancé's goalie. Great reason. The best reason.

Still, Shane does not let go. “Drapeau hasn’t said anything to Troy.”

“Not during the game, no.” Ilya looks over at the goalie again, and Drapeau's fucking laughing. And looking so punchable.

When Ilya turns back to Shane, he’s giving Ilya an exasperated look. “Keep it off the ice, Rozanov.”

“Da, yes, of course.” He nods and starts to pull away. “Am about to teach this to Drapeau.”

But Shane does not let go. “You really want to go into the playoffs with bruised knuckles?" Shane asks.

And isn't that a wonderful thing to hear? To be going to the playoffs again, and with his fiancé.

…even though they are on opposing teams.

Ilya lets out a definitely not dramatic sigh. “Fine," he says. "I will behave.”

“Thank you.”

“I expect reward later.”

Shane looks into Ilya's eyes, then glances down at Ilya's lips. A slow smile spreads across Shane's face. “I can arrange that,” he says.

It may be a shame that Ilya did not get to punch a homophobe that day.

But, he got to give gay love to the world.

And into his boyfriend.

So, love wins.

November 2021

Ilya would have probably ignored the comment.

He would have also said an insult that would bring shame upon his entire family name, but he would have then ignored the stupid Montreal player and continued playing the game.

Except, Shane Hollander, his beautiful husband, overheard what the Montreal defenseman had said to Ilya.

And Shane, decidedly, did not ignore it.

So here Ilya is, watching his stunning husband with beautiful freckles, have his first hockey fight to defend Ilya's honor.

And he is very turned on.

... and maybe a little close to tears.

"Is just so beautiful," Ilya tells the very forgettable Montreal player he has paired off with.

"…sure man," Hayden Pike says.

"Look at his form!" He uses the grasp he has on Pike's jersey to turn him so he can get a better view of the masterpiece that occurs before them. "He is doing so well!"

For some reason, Pike does not look at the fight with the awe and reverence it deserves. "Shouldn't we, like, step in? he asks stupidly. "Its his first fight."

Ilya pats Pike's back. "Ah, do not worry. He will be okay. He knows how to fight. I taught him.”

“…I really did not need to know that.”

“Is not dirty to teach husband how to fight other men," Ilya says seriously. "Is important safety skills."

"Please do not tell me about what you do in your free time."

Ilya makes an exasperated sound. "You are so boring. And not even sexy like Shane."

"Excuse me!?"

"Shane and I have such lovely conversations when we pair off," Ilya laments, leaning his weight dramatically against Pike. "You just insult my beautiful husband and all his many talents."

Pike sighs. Must be a habit he picked up from Shane. Is shame, since it is so sexy on Shane, yet so unsexy on Pike. "I, legitimately, have no idea why Shane puts up with you."

Ilya has a few ideas, but before he can tell Pike about his sexy teaching skills, the refs (and medics, Ilya notes) finally break apart Shane and the defenseman. Shane looks over his shoulder toward Ilya as one of the refs corral him toward the penalty box, covered in another man's blood, with a sharp smile on his face.

And he looks good.

Really good.

So, really, it isn't Ilya's fault that he yells—

“GOOD WORK SWEETHEART!”

—loudly enough that the entire rink hears.

Which leads to a Montreal player punching him in the face.

Which then leads to Ilya punching that same Montreal player in the face.

…oops.

Well, it’s not so bad. He only has to serve some penalty time.

In the penalty box.

Where his very sexy husband waits for him.

And if, not ten seconds later, Ilya gets yelled at for making out with his husband in the penalty box, who can blame him?

Notes:

The Hayden section is dedicated to you Jess :)

Kudos and comments are appreciated and welcome!

You can find me on Tumblr!