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    Ottawa, 2010.

    Canada wins the championship, and Shane slips away from the overwhelming celebration for some peace and quiet. 

    Russia loses, and Ilya runs from his father’s furious disappointment to have a panic attack in the stairwell. 

    Neither boy is really looking for company, but for a tentative few hours in the middle of the night, they find solace, acceptance and a first kiss, first time prelude to something heated and risky in each other’s arms. 

    ****

    Ilya leaned in with lips pursed and Shane jerked away, “Whoa! What the hell are you doing?” 

    “You do not want kiss?” Ilya frowned. “You stare at my mouth all night, same as after draft. I thought you wanted kiss.” 

    “No.” Shane’s eyes were wide. “That’s insane.” 

    “Okay.” Ilya stood up, hiding how bad the rejection hurt. “I misunderstand. Sorry. Do not worry, I will not say anything about–” 

    “Wait.” Shane’s grabbed Rozanov’s arm at the last second, gathering all his courage, “Y-yes.” 

    “Yes.” Ilya repeated. “What is yes?” 

    “I mean yes.” Shane pulled him back in slowly, carefully, his heart racing. “Kiss me?”

    Series
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    14 Sep 2026

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    Scent patches were mandatory for anyone participating in World Junior's, but a lot of the Russian guys Shane saw in the hotel or around the rink had them loosely attached to their necks or not quite centered over their scent gland. Shane had been on his way to his parents' car when the wind shifted, and he smelled that Rozanov, leaning against the wall and not-at-all-surreptitiously fishing a carton of cigarettes out of his pocket, must have been one of them.

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    Language:
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    Words:
    87,410
    Chapters:
    9/9
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    08 Jul 2026

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    The airport looks like it always does. A sea of people oblivious to anything going on around them. Ilya is about to put his headphones over his ears when he sees something so familiar his brain almost doesn't register it. That is until he realizes that he's in fucking Moscow so this doesn't make any sense.

    Because right there at the gate, spread out over several chairs, his duffle bag as a pillow, is the figure of Shane Hollander sleeping. The hood of his sweatshirt is up and he's wearing sunglasses, but Ilya would recognize the shape of Shane Hollander anywhere.

    “Hollander?” he asks in shock, stepping closer.

     

    Or, Shane shows up in Russia after learning Ilya's father died. Ilya did not ask him to do this. He just showed up. And now Ilya doesn't know what to do with himself. He proceeds to just go with it, and maybe listen to Shane for once.

     

    Another song inspired fic, this time Ever the Same by Rob Thomas which I argue is underrated.

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    02 Jul 2026

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    “Your first,” Ilya repeated slowly, his questioning, intense gaze pinning Shane like a moth to a board. Shane didn’t have to fake the heat in his face, the slight wanting tremble of his hands.

    “You know I’ve never let anyone fuck me.”

    He had tangible proof of the moment it clicked, because Ilya started battling for breath like the air had been punched out of him. Shane had filed away Ilya’s snarling possession and pride for years; his husband loved that he was the first man Shane had ever had sex with. He relished in it.

    He'd trusted Ilya enough to give it up once, and he could give it up again, immortalized on film.

    There were two crucial itemized lists that Shane drafted before the arrival of Ilya’s birthday. One contained everything he’d need to purchase before the party, because he’d forgotten ice last time and it haunted him.

    The other detailed all possible kinks and fantasies that Shane could weaponize to drive Ilya insane.

    Who would Shane Hollander be, if not the pinnacle of efficiency?

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    16 Jun 2026

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    Forester (Admirals🔛🔝)
    So the true way to combat the Bisexual Russian Terminator isn’t with homophobia...
    It's actually with even more gay
    ...
    You're a goddamn genius.

    ----

    The MLH rookies have joined forces to strategize now that two of the greatest hockey players of all time are on the same team and Ilya Rozanov must suffer from the unintended consequences of making hockey more woke.

    Mainly, the way everyone keeps implying that they want to fuck his husband.

    or: a group of rookies unionize and employ chirping as a form of psychological torture against a one Ilya Grigoryevich Rozanov.

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    10 Jun 2026