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Fulfill A Crave-ing
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Published:
2025-11-22
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1,638
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1/1
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You did what?

Summary:

Hi Shane. This is Troy Barrett. Rozanov gave me your number.

Shane stared at his phone.
What the actual fuck?
Why had Ilya given Barrett his number, and what did Barrett want?
Three dots appeared under the message. It looked like he was about to find out.

So Roz took me to the Kingfisher. You know, Scott Hunter’s gay bar. And we got to talking. Mind if I call?

Notes:

Prompt:

Fanwork: Fanfic

Prompt:
"Maybe he should ask Ilya for Shane Hollander’s number. Shane was a fucking babe."

I think about this quote from Role Models daily. What if Troy did ask for Shane's number? How does Ilya react? Does he give Troy Shane's number? Is he laughing maniacally on the inside as he does it? What does Shane say when he calls Ilya after Troy actually texts him? Is he embarrassed? Does he blush? I'm kicking my feet and giggling just thinking about it.

***

I'm so ridiculously excited about the show coming out. I hope you all enjoy my second venture into Hollanov.

Side note: I did include text message graphics, so you may prefer to read on a smaller device. The photos are very large when viewed on a computer screen.

Enjoy.

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

Work Text:

Hi Shane. This is Troy Barrett. Rozanov gave me your number. 

Shane stared at his phone. 

What the actual fuck?

Why had Ilya given Barrett his number, and what did Barrett want? 

Three dots appeared under the message. It looked like he was about to find out. 

So Roz took me to the Kingfisher. You know, Scott Hunter’s gay bar. And we got to talking. Mind if I call?

Head still reeling, Shane tapped out a quick message to Ilya. 

What the fuck did you do? Barrett wants to call me. 

The bastard didn’t answer.  Fuck. 

For lack of a better response, Shane reluctantly typed out “Yeah sure,” and then sat stiffly on his couch, waiting. 

He didn’t even like Barrett.  Well, it wasn’t that he didn’t like him. It was more that Barrett standing against Kent counter-balanced his previous dislike. It basically added up to indifference. 

It didn’t help that he’d clearly grown on Ilya. Barrett this and Barrett that. “He’s not so bad,” said in Ilya’s Russian drawl. 

Shane grimaced. 

Ilya had taken Barrett to the Kingfisher. Not Shane. And it made him so angry, not necessarily at Ilya, though the green eyed monster did want to roar on occasion; but at the world and the systems that kept them from being able to live out loud together. 

Maybe Shane could go to the Kingfisher next time he was in New York, but he could never go with Ilya. Ilya could spend time with Barrett in ways he never could with Shane, and it made Shane want to scream. It was infuriating. 

The phone in his hands buzzed, pulling him out of his spiral. 

“Hello.”

“Hey Shane.”

“Barrett.” It came out curt, and Shane smacked himself mentally. He could at least be polite. 

“Yeah. So…” Barrett’s voice grew hesitant, clearly put off by Shane’s reticence. He cleared his throat. “So. I’ll just say it. It’s, uhh, gotten around the league that you’re…gay.”

Shane’s heart rate spiked. He took a deep inhale, trying to counteract his instinctual panic. He’d planned for this.  He’d wanted this.  But, after so many years, it was still scary. “Yeah,” he finally said, willing himself to sound calm. 

“And I was wondering,” Barrett continued, his voice growing more confident, “if you’d want to grab a drink next time we play each other.”

“Oh.” Of all the reasons Barrett might want to call him, this hadn’t been on the list. 

Wait— was Barrett gay…or bi?

That was unexpected. Was that why he and Ilya got along so well? 

Unable to process his thoughts enough to speak, he typed furiously on his phone. 

I’m gonna kill you He’s asking me out.  You knew this was why he was calling, you shit

“Ummmm, Shane?” Barrett’s voice wobbled, and it snapped Shane back to the moment. 

“Shit, sorry Troy.  You just surprised me.”

Barrett chuckled. “I’m sure.”

“I—” Shane started and then paused abruptly.  What did he say? How should he let him down? Whatever he identified as, he’d just gone out on a limb and come out to Shane. He was to be admired. 

But that didn’t mean Shane was willing to go on a date with him. Just as he opened his mouth to respond, Ilya texted back. 

Oh c’mon.  He’s hot.  You’re hot. Could be fun.  Next time we’re all in Ottawa… Fuck you Seriously. Why the fuck?

Shane growled internally. He could hear that last text in Ilya’s accent, the way it just rolled off his tongue, deep and sincere.

Fuck, he did love that asshole–stupid jokes and all. 

Steeling himself, he took a deep breath and returned to the issue at hand. Staying as close to the truth as possible was probably best. “I’m sorry, but I’m in a relationship with someone. It’s not public knowledge, but we’re serious.”

“Well, damn, it was worth a try.”

“Yeah, sorry. How’s Ottawa been?”

As Barrett responded in more sentences than Shane had ever heard him use at a press conference, Ilya sent another message. 

Just call me.  I can’t. I’m still talking to Barrett Oh please please Shane Take a selfie for me I need to see your face It must be on fire I hate you

Shane made noises of agreement and asked a few follow-up questions while he typed. 

No you don’t  You love me A disgusting amount I’m beginning to question that  You’ve been questioning that for years. You always come back to the same conclusion.  You looooove me

He groaned out loud. He did.  Fuck. 

“Shane?”

“Yeah, sorry.  So… if you don’t mind me asking,” Shane said, trying to be polite while he glared daggers at Ilya’s name, “Since you asked me out and went to the Kingfisher with Ilya, are you gay or bi or?”

“Gay.”

“Ah. Same. There’s a growing collection of us, it seems.”

“Yeah, except Scott Hunter’s the only active player out publicly.” Barrett’s voice sagged. 

Shane frowned. “Yeah,” he said, sounding similarly dejected. 

“I hate this,” Barrett said suddenly. 

“Me too, man. Hiding fucking sucks.”

“I hate that we have to. That we’re expected to. That so many people would care.”

“Yeah,” Shane said, sighing. 

“The Kingfisher was…nice,” Barrett said thoughtfully. “I mean no one there knows…about me…well, except for Roz, but being surrounded by secure queer players and…others…yeah, that was nice.”

Shane’s heart sank. “I’ve never had that. Not really. I wish…” He wished so hard. He wished he could be public, not only about himself but also about his feelings for Ilya—that was, of course, after he killed him for this. He wanted to scream it from the rooftops. Get it tattooed on his skin. Figuratively, of course. He wished he could take Ilya out somewhere nice and just talk, hold hands, kiss as much as they wanted. He burned in the wanting. What he wouldn’t pay for a genie right about now. 

“Your partner?”

Shane barked out a laugh. “We’ve never gone out in public, not even to a restaurant alone.” God, he sounded fucking pathetic. 

“I know what that’s like.”

“You— you do?” Shane asked, genuinely surprised. 

“I’m not ready to say who, but I was with my last boyfriend for two years.  He’s super famous, and no one even knows we know each other.”

“That’s…” Shane searched for a word, as his heart cracked for Troy.  At least he and Ilya could have a public friendship and a lifestyle that put them in near proximity to one another regularly. He couldn’t imagine keeping it so private that they couldn’t even be colleagues or acquaintances. Rivals popped into his head, but it had been so long since he’d thought of Ilya like that. He finally settled on a word, adding, “…rough.”

“Yeah, it fucking sucked. And now he’s out and proud—” his voice cracked “—and I’m still stuck in this fucking hockey closet.”

“Fucking hockey closet,” Shane agreed. 

“Hey, you’re further out than me. The league knows.”

Shane huffed. “It barely counts. It’s not public. The ones who support me would never tell without my permission, and the homophobes want to stay as far from that mess as possible. And anyway, only my team knew at first.  It grew from there. It’s more of a rumor. I’ve never, like, announced it or anything.”

“Roz knew.”

“That's—well, that’s different. I’ve known Ilya longer than most of my teammates, and we’re friends.” Barrett made a noise to say something, but Shane continued, “He’s also a fucking asshole who knows I’m involved with someone and just likes to stir shit up.”

“You’re fucking kidding?”

“We run a charity together. Of course he knows.” Panic started to settle in. Had he said too much? Made it obvious? 

“No, I mean, that he knew and gave me your number anyway?”

“Oh yeah. Have you met him?”

Barrett laughed, long and deep. “Okay, yeah, that makes sense. He does seem to go back and forth between royal asshole and concerned dad or maybe older brother.”

“That’s…accurate.” Minus the brother part, Shane thought wryly. There wasn’t anything brotherly about how Ilya made him feel. Right now? Annoyed. Well, most of the time annoyed, but also so so hot and loved and cherished and adored and…

Yeah, Shane’s contradictions were a bit more complex—doting boyfriend, obnoxious asshole, concerned lover, annoying bastard, heartfelt companion, silly goofball, charming teddy bear, and vicious rival. 

Fuck, Shane loved him. Every exasperating inch of him. 

“I’ve already chewed him out via text.”

“Good. I’ll make sure to slam him into the boards for you.”

Shane chuckled. “Do it twice.”

“Got it. And Shane, thanks.”

“For…”

“It just feels good to have someone to talk to who gets it–really gets what it’s like to be a gay hockey player.”

“Yeah. This was unexpected but good.”

“Maybe we can catch up another time. Or just grab a drink as…friends.”

Surprising himself, Shane said, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Cool. Well, I’ll see you around.”

“Bye.” 

“Bye.”

Shane sat silently, staring at the wall for a full minute, processing everything that had just happened. Then he looked at his phone. 

He had several notifications from Ilya. 

Where is my selfie? How red are you? Do you still have freckles or have they blended into the red? Shane? I will give you ten minutes. Then will call to make sure you didn’t throw yourself in front of a bus.

Shane called him. Without video. 

“I would not throw myself in front of a bus.”

“Is not the point. I—“

“You owe me.”

“Yes.”

“You owe me.”

“What?” He drawled, voice growing deeper and suggestive.  “What do you want?”

“What I always want, you ass, but usually can’t have because we live too far apart. I’ll settle for you naked, getting yourself off, while you tell me how perfect I am and how sorry you are.” He waited a beat, then added, “In Russian.”

Just the thought of it sent delicious shivers cascading all over Shane’s skin. Body aside, there wasn’t anything sexier than a horny Ilya speaking Russian. The words just dripped out of his mouth, husky and warm, a deep rumble that set Shane alight.

“Fine.”

Shane switched the call to FaceTime and then turned off his camera. 

“No!” Ilya complained, his whole expression dropping. He looked adorably disappointed, laying back against his pillows with his curls splayed out around him. 

“Yes. This is your penance.” 

Ilya grumbled but dutifully began to remove his clothes, shimmying them off without getting up. Shane grinned and followed suit. Maybe Barrett’s call was good for something. Ilya was going to have to put on one hell of a show, and Shane couldn’t wait to see it.

 

After they’d hung up and Shane lay curled up, satiated, on his bed—he had eventually relented and turned on his camera for Ilya—his phone buzzed with another text from Barrett. 

It’s Ilya isn’t it?

Shane yelled, "Fuck!" and typed like lightning. 

You are so dead. 



Notes:

Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed that little bit of fluff, and yams77, I hope it lived up to your expectations. Shane took me in an unexpected direction, but hopefully it was no less fun. Troy is out of character here, as at this point he's still quite taciturn, but I loved the idea of Shane and Troy bonding over their similar experiences. So here we are--two conversations at once, one bonding and the other silly, flirty, and teasing.

You can find me on tumblr: @if-music-be-the-food-of-love where I blog about many things, which will shortly include the Heated Rivalry TV show, ahhhhh!!!!!! I've read these books an absurd number of times. Stop by any time. I'd love to chat!