Sasisosu



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    Everyone in the NHL wants Shane Hollander. Maybe that should make Ilya feel proud, accomplished, even. Because he's the only one who has ever really had him. The only one who will.
    But really, it only seems to piss him off. Make him possessive.
    Shane kind of likes that.

    Language:
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    25 May 2026

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    “You’ll text when you land, right?” Shane asks as he takes an exit ramp labeled Airport Departures.

    “Yes. Promise.”

    “And you’ll call tonight?” Shane’s throat works over the words, like he still doesn’t trust this new thing between them. Ilya thinks he understands. He also doesn’t know how to trust this love. How can he when it has been trapped in his own heart so long. Neither of them know what the next year will bring. There is so much time before Ilya can have his agent, or his future agent, he will need a new one with no connections to Russia, reach out to Ottawa and hope that they’ll be interested in a future Hall of Fame center. The one thing Ilya is certain of is that he will do everything in his power to make their plan work. He spent his entire adult life lusting after, and then pining for Shane with his whole heart.

    “I will call.” Ilya reaches for the hand Shane has left on the gearshift and threads his fingers through his. He wants to say so much, but he has always been better with touch than words, especially when the only shared language was English. “We will talk every day.”

    Or, There is a year before Ilya can sign with Ottawa, Shane counts down the days until their forever.

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    23 May 2026

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    In the offseason, a steamy video of Shane and Ilya dancing at a club goes viral. Already out and married for years at this point, the first husbands of hockey can't believe this is news. For once, it's Shane whose media responses blow it up even further. Ilya’s not about to let an opportunity to compete with Shane go to waste.

    Or

    The rivalry still hasn't died, they just find new ways to keep it going. Why choose silence when you can choose violence?

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    10 May 2026

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    Shane stared up at the ceiling. Everything he’d been keeping inside for the last month was threatening to boil over into a ugly mess, and his eyes stung. “I thought that if I could just ignore it, it would go away. I thought that if I gave it more time, I’d keep myself from doing something drastic.”

    He rubbed at his face and kept his hands there, a shield to protect him from the weight of the decision he couldn’t keep running from. “It’s been weeks, and I don’t know what to do. I feel sick every time I think about going back, but…” He looked at Ilya and saw the blue eyes there creased with concern, sadness, and that simmering anger at everything that had ever hurt Shane. He sniffed. “I don’t think I’m strong enough to leave. Leaving feels like giving up. But so does staying.”

    “No.” Ilya shook his head and shuffled forward so his body was mirroring Shane’s, twin parentheses encompassing their shared years in between worn bodies. “No, my love.”

    Or: After the playoffs end for Montreal and Ottawa, Shane has a decision to make. His relationship with the Metros is on thin ice, and it might take a couple Centaurs to break it for good.

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    27 Apr 2026

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    “You are not broken, Ilya,” Terry says, sounding a little stern now. “I told you to keep an eye on the side effects. How long have you been experiencing this?”

    “Since last night.”

    “What?”

    “Since last night,” Ilya repeats. “Or afternoon, technically.”

    And Terry…Terry fucking laughs.

    Ilya is going to die, and Shane will be sad forever and Terry fucking laughs.

    “It hasn’t even been a day?” Terry clarifies, still chuckling. “Well, this could have nothing to do with the medication. It could just be an off day—”

    “Off day?” Ilya repeats incredulously. “Have you seen my husband? There are no off days with an ass like that.”

    OR: Ilya starts taking antidepressants only to realise it's fucking up his sex life. And, he acts totally very chill about it.

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    26 Apr 2026