Chapter Text
From Rivalry to Royalty- October 2026 cover
How hockey's first husbands solidified their legacies… together.
Over the last five seasons, the name Hollander-Rozanov has charmed its way into more than just the hockey world. After making waves as the first married couple in the MLH, the pair have become a household name. Their charity, The Irina Foundation, has helped multiple mental health organizations, supplied grants to LGBTQ+ youth organizations, and provided a yearly camp for young hockey players to be mentored by the best players in the MLH and PWHL alike. We sat down with the couple to talk about the intense rivalry that started it all, the obscene number of cups won between the two of them (the most recent two being together), and keeping the magic alive on and off the ice.
---
Shane snorted, staring at the magazine in his hands. It never failed to amuse him how entertained the public has always been by his relationship with his husband. First as the leagues most infamous rivalry to currently being its only married couple. No matter what they did, it seems that he and Ilya would always make headlines together. This may have bothered him more at the beginning of his career. Going toe to toe, season after season with your (alleged) biggest enemy surely should have taken its toll on Shane. What most of the world has never truly understood is that it actually lit a fire under both of them to be the best they could be. Letting Ilya win, accepting defeat, being number two… none of that was ever an option. It was all or nothing for both of them every time their skates hit the ice.
He did have to admit, however, the world's curiosity certainly led to them looking hot as hell on the cover of this months Sports Illustrated. When the photographer had first suggested wet t-shirts for the shoot, Shane had cringed internally. While they trained hard to keep their physique, he wasn't always exactly comfortable showing his off. Ilya, on the other hand, had absolutely no issue with it and was more than willing to hose Shane down when the time came. The shoot had been long, miserably cold, but had produced pretty phenomenal results if he did say so himself.
Glancing once more at the cover, he admired the way Ilya's arm draped around his shoulders, eyes lovingly fixed on Shane as he stared directly into the camera. His husband. Even five years into their marriage, he truly could not believe he could publicly call Ilya Rozanov his husband. It had been a long road for them. Simply admitting they had real feelings for each other took years, and even then it took longer to accept they were meant for each other. He wouldn't change a thing, though. Well… he might change the part where they were outed. That was one of the lower points of their time together. Even so, it lead them exactly where they needed to be. Here, in love, playing for the best team in the league.
"Ahh, I see you are once more admiring how sexy I am. Did you really miss me that much while I showered?" His husbands voice carried over his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around Shane over the back of the couch.
"Fuck off, you are so full of yourself," he laughed, placing a quick kiss on Ilya's cheek. "I still just don't understand why people want to know so much about us. Are we really that interesting?"
Ilya scoffed, obviously offended. "Shane, we are very hot and very famous. I am not sure what you do not understand about this. Of course people are curious. We are First Husbands of Hockey!"
He chuckled once more at his husbands rash observation. "I guess I just assumed the hype around our relationship would have died down by now. We do look great, though."
"Great? Great?! Shane, I ate your rabbit food for a week leading up to that shoot. I look more than great. Many people are going to swoon when they see this."
"Swoon? You truly are full of yourself." He chirped back without malice.
"This is why you love me, yes? Because I am so confident and sexy and irresistible…" Ilya punctuated each word with a kiss to Shane's cheek, then jaw, then neck. It made it rather hard to argue with him.
He grinned and tossed the magazine onto the coffee table, rising to meet Ilya's lips with his own. Things were so simple between them now. They had spent the last few years at the top of their game, getting to do what they loved together everyday. In all honesty, they were rarely ever apart. Between practices, games, travel, and their home life… most of their time was spent together and they wouldn't have it any other way. Their teammates often questioned how they didn't spend each moment at each others throats. While it's true, they did occasionally argue about miniscule things (whose turn it was to take the trash out, who left their socks on the floor, whether one McGriddle would ruin a months worth of training) for the most part, they were on the same page about the big things (when they should retire, how long each of them should sit out after an injury, how they would decide who goes first for each game of Monopoly).
Life had never been better for them. Now, coming off winning their second cup together, they were gearing up for a three-peat and apparently Sports Illustrated's Sexiest Couple. Shane supposed at some point, he would have to get used to all of the attention. It simply just didn't come natural for him to feel comfortable in the limelight.
Ilya pulled back, cupping his face with both hands. "I really am the luckiest man alive." The way he gazed into Shane's eyes made him want to melt. No one had ever looked at him with so much love and admiration. It wasn't often he got to see his husband all gooey like this. While occasionally he would let his walls slip around Shane's parents, most of these tender moments were specifically saved for him. Each time they happened, Shane felt his heart flutter a bit. Even after all of these years.
Just then, Ilya's phone rang. Shane caught a glimpse of Svetlana's name on the screen before he smiled and walked into the kitchen to take the call. She had been a staple in both their lives for years now. Some might think it would be weird to be close with your husbands ex flame, however most people had never met Sveta. As far as family goes, she is close to being all Ilya has left. He's always been grateful to her for being a constant in Ilya's life and one of the few people who can bring him back down to earth when he gets a little too cocky.
He takes the moment to give Ilya some privacy and leads Anya out into the backyard. It's getting close to time for her evening walk but a little fetch should hold her over until after dinner. As far as pets go, she is one spoiled pup. Bi-weekly visits to the groomer, a dog walker for long days they were stuck at the arena, a pet "spa" for her to stay at during away games that was equipped with a twenty-four hour live camera feed that Ilya could check at any moment. Their house stayed cluttered with her toys, she had a bed in mutiple rooms, only the best food to eat, filtered water to drink. Shane worried what it would be like when they had human children of their own if this is what Anya's daily life looked like. He feared he would end up being the strict parent while Ilya spoiled their kids and gave into their every whim. It's all about checks and balances though, so surely they would be fine when the time came.
It hits him then, as he sits on the back steps watching her chase the tennis ball. They're in their mid thirties now, already past when most players start thinking of retirement. They had always agreed they wanted children once both of their careers were over. Being parents was something they wanted to pour their entire hearts into without any sort of distractions. Most guys in the league had already settled down, with their spouses at home with the kids during practices and long stretches of away games. With them both being in the league however, it just didn't seem fair to make one of them give up their career to stay home or to leave their children with nannies or Shane's parents during their extensive traveling during the season. But it was a dream they both shared, already apart of their long term plan.
They both desired to play hockey as long as they could. But they agreed, once it was time, they would retire together. They would announce it at the beginning of their final season, win one last cup together on their way out, move to the countryside, and start their family. Shane knew Ilya would be the perfect dad. He had always been so great with children. Watching him with Hayden's kids over the years had always been a joy. He never knew if it was because Ilya went out of the way to show kids the softness he never got as a child or if maybe it was his own childlike wonder that helped him relate to them so well. Either way, all of the guys on their team knew their kids were going to be spoiled when Uncle Ilya was around.
The back door slid open, interrupting him from his thoughts. Ilya made his way over to Shane's side, taking up the spot next to him on the steps, their legs and shoulders both touching. Anya ran up to drop the ball at his feet, excited to have one more player in their game. He threw it and then rested his head on Shane's shoulder as they watched her fly across the yard.
"That was Sveta" Ilya supplied, though Shane already knew. "She will be in town for our game next week. She wanted to make sure it was okay to stay with us, but I'm not sure why she still asks. You have an entire bathroom filled with her soaps and lotions, she doesn't even have to bring anything but clothes!"
Shane smiled, "She's just being polite. She knows she's always welcome here. I honestly think she might have clothes in the dresser as well. I've always considered the guest suite downstairs hers."
They let the silence settle between them. In an hour or so, they would eat dinner, take Anya for her nightly walk, and then settle onto the couch to catch up on whatever reality show Ilya was currently obsessed with. Shane would fall asleep, Ilya would wake him for bed, and they would walk upstairs to brush their teeth together and then fall asleep in each others arms. Life was busy, but it was simple, and spending it along side his best friend was an absolute dream.
He sighed and thought about how lucky he was, wondering what he did to deserve all of this. Whatever it was, he was eternally grateful.
---
The next morning started out normally. Shane woke up to his 6AM alarm, got dressed, and went on his morning run. The weather was beginning to cool off more so the air was crisp and helped energize him a bit. When he got home, he fed Anya, made his usual smoothie, and started a pot of coffee for Ilya. Soon enough, he heard footsteps slowly thumping down the stairs and turned to see his husband, curls mussed from sleep, standing in the kitchen doorway with his phone in his hand.
"Have you seen this?" Ilya croaked, voice still harsh with sleep. He slid the phone on the counter to Shane as he made his way to the coffee pot.
Under a post linked to their feature was a slew of hateful comments. This was nothing new. No matter how great they were at hockey or how many records they broke, Ilya and Shane would always have a target on their backs for simply being in love. What was new, however, was the sheer amount of verified checkmarks by the names of people chiming in. The name that caught his eye first was none other than Gilbert Comeau, his old teammate from the Voyageurs.
-@g_comeauofficial
why is the main focus of the league always to appease these two freaks? constantly in articles talking about how they're the best and have always been. some of us don't get to weaponize our sexuality to sell tickets. we have to work our asses off the old fashioned way.
Shane read the post twice, then a third time. He had never been particularly close with Comeau, but he was never under the impression that there was bad blood between them. They honestly had not spoken since Shane's untimely departure from the Voyageurs almost six years ago. Though he had to admit, there had always been tension when they met the Centaurs on the ice every season. Enough to warrant a public response, though?
"I'm going to respond to him, let him know he is welcome to say anything to our faces on Saturday" Ilya smirked and took a sip of his coffee. Fuck, they were playing the Voyageurs on Saturday.
"Ilya, please don't. We really need to de-escalate this, not fan the flames."
"Shane, I am fanning no flames. I simply told him we would meet face to face on the ice so he can run his mouth and then I can punch him in it. Is simple." He shrugged nonchalantly.
Shane paused, narrowing his eyes at his husband. "What do you mean… told?" Ilya remained quiet, taking another sip from his mug. "Ilya…" He began again. "What did you mean… TOLD?"
"Sweetheart, is no big deal. I will handle it. Comeau wants to start something, is fine but… I will be the one to finish it." He grinned wildly. This was not good.
"Ilya! We are too old to be starting fights on purpose! Delete your response before he sees it!"
"Mmm, that is too late. Sorry." Ilya shrugged and mouthed 'oops'.
"Hmm, and why would it be to late, my beautiful, loving husband?" Shane was starting to lose his patience, it was too early for this.
"Because I sent him direct message and he agreed. Although he did call me a pussy… I do not think this is true though. I am not the one complaining on the internet about not being the best in the league. Very fragile man if you ask me."
Shane just sighed and lowered his head onto the counter. Fighting with past teammates was the last thing he wanted to do right now. Slowly, he began to rack his brain on how to fix this, and fast. Maybe if he also sent Comeau a message, apologizing for his husband and assuring him there was no beef between them. He could empathize with his frustrations about their publicity? Except… no, he actually couldn't. Shane wasn't one to gas himself up but they really were two of the best players in the league. (Let's face it, they were the best and they worked hard to maintain that.) Surely a little bit of empathy could go a long way though? Maybe Comeau was having a hard time and taking it out on them? It wouldn't hurt to at least try.
"Ugh, Shane I can hear your thoughts. They are too loud! We are not apologizing to this man. He started this! Our only crime is being to sexy in a magazine!" Ilya, of course, had a point. But at that moment, Shane didn't want to hear it. They were too old for this. Something had to give before Saturday. If that something just so happened to be his pride, so be it. He walked upstairs to grab his phone and quickly typed out a message to Comeau, hoping they could come to an understanding and wishing him the best. He would try his hardest to work this out before the game.
Unfortunately, that is not what happened.
Instead of responding, Comeau leaked screenshots of Ilya's messages to him. They were… colorful to say the least. Definitely not his best moment. (Ilya, of course, stood by his words and even doubled down on them. Also publicly.) In a perfect world, it would have ended there. Instead, many people came to Comeau's defense. Players, sportscasters, and fans alike. Over the course of the next two days, Shane and Ilya were called every slur under the sun. Gossip magazines began to write articles saying this could be the "end of the beginning for hockey's golden boy and his barely leashed dog" whatever the fuck that meant. Threats of all caliber began making their way into their inboxes. The league had to issue a statement about not feeding into "aggressive chirping between players" and then immediately upped the security presence at the Centaurs' arena. It was two of the longest days of Shane's life.
Ilya tried every trick in his book to make Shane relax. He made his favorite meals for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He ran Shane a bath each night before bed, laying behind him to rub his shoulders and sprinkle kisses down his neck. He watched three documentaries with Shane that he would have otherwise deemed "boring enough for a great nap". He gave Shane three of the most soul shattering orgasms of his life. Nothing helped. Shane stayed in a constant state of trepidation.
By the time Saturday morning rolled around, he sat at the kitchen table with a pit in his stomach. In all of his years in the league, he had never seen anything like this. Shane simply could not figure out how this spiraled out of hand so quickly. The internet was definitely very different from when he first began his career. It didn't take much to get a lot of people riled up. But Ilya always had a mouth on him, he always got under peoples skin. How was this time any different?
"It's the witch hunt" Hayden informed him over the phone.
"The what hunt? What are you talking about?" Shane literally scratched his head, not understanding.
"You know, anytime there's a controversy these days, people pick a side. Then they go on a witch hunt to take down the other side. You and Ilya have stayed at the top for too long, sometimes being too good pisses people off as much as being really bad. Sometimes even more. Jealously is a hell of a drug, bud."
"I just don't get it, it's not like we just got married, it's not like Ilya has never run his mouth before. Why now? I haven't even spoken to Comeau in years!" He was very close to panicking.
"Between the two of us, I don't think it has much to do with you man. Comeau's wife left him earlier this year. Seems like he might be hitting the bottle too hard lately. He shows up and works hard at practices and games but, there's always this scowl on his face now. And he's never been a fan of you."
"Not helping, Hayd."
"Sorry bud, I'm just saying. Nothing is more dangerous than a desperate man. He spent all of this time building a career he doesn't get his flowers for while losing the woman he loves because of it. She took the kids and everything. I don't think you or Ilya are the problem, but I think you might be the catalyst."
Shane sat with Hayden's words for a second. He did feel bad for Comeau, he honestly had a feeling something like this may be the actual problem. But that still left him with questions. "I can see why Comeau is upset, but what about everyone else? The internet has been dog piling us for days now. I'm used to the usual hate mail but they've had to up the security at the arena and everything. Someone sent in a bomb threat during our practice yesterday and we had to evacuate for two hours while they searched the building! That's just not normal!"
The bomb threat is what had pushed Shane to the brink of a panic attack. They spent hours in the parking lot with the team and staff waiting for the building to be cleared by the bomb squad. It sent a chill down his spine to think that he and Ilya could be the cause for so many people they cared about to get hurt. He had barely slept last night stressing about it. Ilya tried his best so assure him this had not been their fault, but Shane was having a hard time believing it.
"That is exactly where the witch hunt comes in. I'm sure a lot of these people are just jumping on the bandwagon now that people have decided it's okay to hate you both. However, some of them have probably had issues with you for a while and have just been biding their time for the internet to come around to their side. It's weird these days, man. Try not to take it too personally. You guys have security, you're both fit as fuck, and 99% of these people are full of shit. In another week or so, everything will die down and people will find something else to be upset about. We just have to get this game under our belt first to relieve some of the tension."
"Yeah, and what if that other 1% has a bomb, Hayden? What then?!" Shane was definitely panicking now. He wasn't sure why he thought confiding in his best friend would help. Ilya may have been right, he really might be an idiot.
"Listen, your team is going to have your backs tonight, JJ and I got you from the other side. I promise, everything is going to be okay. I'm sure there will be hands thrown but we'll all get through it, okay? No bombs necessary!" Yep, he was an idiot.
---
Shane was quiet the rest of the morning. To Ilya's credit, he didn't try to push him. Occasionally, Shane would feel his hand graze his back or catch his eye for a smile meant only for him. But he knew not to overwhelm him in moments like this.
They went through their normal game day routine, headed to the arena where their bags were thoroughly checked and their bodies patted down and scanned for good measure, and then made their way to the locker room. It was agonizing. He had not felt this anxious before a game since he was a rookie. Deep down, he held on to hope that Hayden was right. (Ilya had of course informed him that Hayden was an absolute dumbass for saying any of that to Shane but that he did agree, everything would probably be fine.) It would be a long game, maybe even a brutal one, but they would get through it together.
To be honest, everything started pretty normal. There was a bit of tension in the air, but not enough to cause alarm. Chirps were thrown here and there, a few quick checks against the boards, however not much out of the ordinary for a game with this much press leading up to it. Things changed pretty quickly during the second period though.
It started with a face off. Shane watched Ilya from the bench, his mouth quirked to the side as he said something smart to the Voyageurs center, taking off with his barbaric speed after he won the face off and made for the goal with Troy right behind him. What should have been a quick assist ended up being a slam into the boards the second he passed the puck, from none other than Comeau. It was obvious that something was off about him right away. He was pretty subdued during the first period, only making a few chirps here and there. Now, his eyes were slightly bloodshot and Shane could tell he was sweating a bit more than usual. Ilya regained his footing and spat in Comeau's face, earning him another shove and a few slurs. It went on like this for a while before both men dropped their gloves and ended up in the sin bin. With both of them off the ice, the charged energy seemed to taper off again.
Once they were back in the locker room after the second period, curiosity got the best of Shane. He had watched Ilya's demeanor change drastically after his scruff with Comeau and couldn't help but ask what exactly happened out there.
"Nothing, Comeau is just an asshole." Ilya responded, trying to keep his usual cocky demeanor. Shane knew better, though.
"Come on, just tell me what he said. Something is bothering you."
"Shane, please drop it. Okay?" His eyes pleaded with his husband, but Shane just couldn't let it go. He kept quiet, letting his body language tell Ilya everything he wanted to say. He wasn't going to let this go, something was off, and he was determined to know. Ilya sighed, looking Shane directly in his eyes. "He said… He said I should stop letting my fag husband try to fight my battles for me. I guess he did actually get your message." Ilya paused for a second and then went on, "I am not trying to excuse his words Shane but, he smelled like whisky. I do not think he is well."
Shane's conversation with Hayden this morning came back to him immediately.
"Comeau's wife left him earlier this year. Seems like he might be hitting the bottle too hard lately."
"I think you might be right. Maybe we should tell someone." He knew it sounded stupid, they were all adults here. What exactly would anyone do to stop Comeau if he really was intoxicated. Possibly fine him? Maybe a suspension for the next game? Players had received barely a slap on the wrist for worse things than that.
"I think we should leave it for now. I am not saying is right, I do not want to make light of what he says or does, but I am going to back off the rest of game. I think maybe it's for the best." The words almost sounded wrong coming out of Ilya's mouth of all people, but Shane had to agree. It was probably best to table it for now and bring it to the leagues attention afterwards. This game already has so much negative attention on it, it might be time to just focus on getting through it as fast as they could. He gave Ilya a quick nod and started making his way back to the ice, hoping that they were making the right call.
Right before they made it back to the bench, Ilya put his hand on Shane's shoulder. "I'm sorry, I know the last few days have been hard on you. I think I will learn to choose battles from now on. Thank you for trusting me on this."
He smiled and bumped his helmet against Ilya's, "Anything for you, Cap. I love you."
"I love you too."
Later, when Shane was asked what the last thing he remembered was, he told his mom it was this moment. Standing in the tunnel, smiling at his handsome husband as he smiled right back at him. He remembered thinking they would make it through this last period with another win, drive home holding hands the entire time like they always did, eat a snack together, and collapse onto their king sized bed, safely in each others arms.
He didn't remember skating back onto the ice with his head held high. He didn't recall scoring a goal not even two minutes later. He would never remember Ilya banging his stick from the bench yelling "that's my husband!" with a proud smile on his face. He wouldn't be able to picture the face of pure disgust that Comeau pulled after hearing those words. At no point in time would Shane be able to recall winning the next face off and bolting down the ice, hoping to score at least one more time before the clock ran out. He would never be able to picture Comeau pounding the ice like a madman, heading straight for him. Shane would not look back on that night and see Hayden's face filled with dread across the ice when he realized what was happening. He would not be able to relive the pain that lanced through him as his wrist snapped, trying to brace his own fall. And he sure as hell would not remember the crack his helmet made as Comeau slammed him to the ice with his full body weight and Shane's world suddenly faded to black.
But Ilya would never forget any of it.