Chapter Text
June 2022 - Quebec
Ilya Rozanov fucking missed fast cars.
He didn’t miss the connotations between his love of supercars and his previous life of cheap thrills, sleeping around, and being Boston’s infamous bad boy. And of course, he would give up the adrenaline rush of his favorite four wheel machines a hundred times over if it meant he could have the life he had now. Happily married and ensconced in domestic bliss, Ilya’s life with Shane was his dream come true; no amount of horsepower or sex appeal on wheels could surpass the sheer happiness he felt waking up in Shane’s arms every day. The decision to part with his collection in Boston made complete sense: reforming his image, freeing up capital to fund the Irina Foundation, and putting Shane’s nagging worries about high-speed crashes to bed - it killed three birds with one stone. The last part had made the choice an easy one to make for Ilya - seeing Shane relax his shoulders just a bit made his heart melt.
But fuck, he couldn’t deny that he missed those cars. Maybe in his life as a Bear, there was a smidge of materialistic flaunting involved, but above all else Ilya appreciated the physical sensation a supercar could provide. Raw acceleration, arresting brakes, and face melting physics gave his body a rush he only ever felt on the ice.
And so, after a year of joyous marriage and right on the heels of both Ilya and Shane signing record-breaking 7-year contracts with the Centaurs (how they ever found the cap space was still a mystery to them both), Ilya saw an opportunity. Riding the high of winning the Stanley Cup as husbands on Shane’s debut season at the Centaurs certainly didn’t hurt.
“Moy lyubov?”
“Mm-hm?” Shane cooed, still stirring in the morning summer light streaming through the cottage windows.
“I think I want to celebrate,” Ilya murmured, gently twirling his fingers through Shane’s hair.
Shane tilted his head up from where it rested on Ilya’s chest.
“Celebrate how? Wasn’t the barbecue at Bood’s the Cup celebration?”
“Yes, but there is more to be happy about. Not just Cup. Our contracts. Our life together now. Everything that we have fought for. Everything that used to seem impossible.”
Shane paused, then slowly began to trace patterns on Ilya’s pec, trying to decode what he was really asking for.
“I’m so lucky to be married to a true romantic. What did you have in mind?”
Fuck. There was no easy way to ask this.
“I want to buy myself a car.”
Ilya braced for pushback. Shane’s vehement disapproval of Ilya’s supercars just a few years ago made it hard to fathom a warm welcome to the idea.
He'd emphasized 'myself' deliberately, a gentle reminder of their marital financial arrangement. They didn't have a prenup, but they did have an arrangement. It was Yuna's idea, actually: their competitiveness meant they needed to keep some things to themselves, and having their own money meant gifts could actually feel like gifts. Yours, mine, and ours. Even though they shared virtually everything from bank accounts to real estate – the ‘ours’ – they still had their own accounts to spend out of as they saw fit, preventing any arguments over ‘frivolous’ expenditures before they even cropped up. It made them stronger, not more separate.
Shane kept softly tracing Ilya’s chest.
“I mean, that makes sense. The warranty on your Mercedes is almost up, and you more than deserve a nice treat for yourself. It’s really sweet that you wanted to make sure it was okay with me,” Shane mused.
Ilya was befuddled. He hadn’t really prepared for acceptance, he had only thought of how he might have to persuade Shane. Maybe I can have some fun with this, he grinned sheepishly.
“I think you will approve. I have been looking for this exact model for some time. Is a plug-in hybrid, has all wheel drive so would be good in snow, and I found one at auction so I will get good deal on it.”
There was no fucking way Ilya was going to drive this car in the snow. But Shane didn’t need to know that, not yet.
This made Shane stop moving his fingers. His face curled into one of Ilya’s favorite expressions: one eyebrow raised and furrowed, but an unmistaken grin curling up. Everything about it read: I know you’re up to no good but I love you and couldn’t care less.
“That all sounds very logical, sweetheart. I’m excited for it to come. We have extra space in the garage, so you can keep your current car for a bit longer in case you don’t like the new one.”
There’s no chance I won’t like it, Ilya thought.
“Moy lyubov, you are sure you are okay with this?”
Shane shrugged.
“We have worked so hard for the last few years to have what we have now. Together. But we also deserve to have our own passions and pieces of happiness. I am so happy, Ilya, and seeing you excited about something you want to do makes me even happier.”
Ilya’s gentle smile grew and his eyes flared to a heated lust. In one swift move, he rolled Shane over onto his back, pressing down on him, his warm morning skin melting into Shane’s.
“You cannot say such sexy things and not expect me to react appropriately, sweetheart” Ilya growled. Peppering him with kisses, he murmured sweet nothings into Shane’s neck. Shane, now long used to his husband’s antics, just giggled and purred, basking in the sweetness of the morning, waiting for the inevitable underwear toss.
After a fulfilling day at the cottage – Ilya could hardly call any day ‘relaxing’ when it included a morning run with Anya, gym training, hiking, cooking, fucking, jet skiing, swimming, more fucking, barbecuing, and baking dessert – Ilya and Shane lay curled up on the couch, ensconced together. Shane, gently drifting in and out of sleep, had his head tucked on Ilya’s chest, making his back the perfect laptop stand.
Now that he had Shane’s all-but-explicit permission, Ilya fired up the Sotheby’s portal and submitted his max bid form and payment details (instant deposit on the Centurion after the hammer strike, the rest to be wired later – ideal terms for an auction house). The Hong Kong auction wasn’t set to start for a few days[1] , but Ilya could delegate a bidder so he wouldn’t have to babysit it. This way, he would’t be distracted by it and draw too much attention to his purchase before it landed in Canada.
Clicking “submit,” he buzzed with a cocktail of adrenaline, excitement, and a little trepidation. There was a nonzero chance this could all blow up in his face when he finally took delivery of his – holy crap, it was going to be HIS – hypercar.
Little did Ilya know, one mouse click was all it took to fundamentally change his and Shane’s lives as they knew them, reigniting Ilya’s long-smoldering love of cars and sparking Shane’s anew, fueling a new rivalry between them.