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    The second time Shane Hollander wakes up on November 16th, he has a panic attack.

    The problem is — he tries to explain through gasped breaths after Hayden basically knocks down his door, shouting that they’re going to miss their flight — the thing is, Shane’s already woken up on November 16th. He’s already flown to Boston. He’s already been to practice, and he’s checked into the hotel, and he has lived this day before.

    He doesn’t mention that he’s also already fucked Ilya Rozanov twice and had a fucking tuna melt that Rozanov made and drank the ginger ale that Rozanov bought specifically for him. He doesn’t mention that they’d snuggled on the couch watching TV like some kind of couple, like boyfriends.

    He doesn’t mention that he fell asleep thinking about how Ilya — fuck, no, thinking about how Rozanov had called him sweetheart and Shane, and that, even now, he can’t quite get the cadence of Ilya’s voice out of his head.

    Or: After the tuna melt fiasco, Shane Hollander wakes up in a time loop.

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    20 Sep 2026

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    “If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what would you want to know?” Quickly, Ilya adds, “Don’t say that you want to know if you win the Cup.”

    “Why not? What if that’s my answer?”

    “Is so boring, Hollander. Of course you want to know this. But Ilya Rozanov and Boston Raiders exist in this world, so crystal ball says, so sad, but no.”

    “Fuck off. What are these questions even for, anyway? Are you interviewing me for something? Wouldn’t you have to, like, tell me if you were?”

    Ilya is quick to assure Hollander before his paranoia takes him right out of this phone call. “It is not for interview, Hollander. I am just wondering. Answer the question.”

    “And I can’t say that I would want to know whether I win the Cup.”

    “Yes, other than that.”

    “I guess… I guess I would want to know, like, am I happy?”

     


     
    Ilya reads an article about 36 questions that are supposed to make people fall in love. He decides to ask Shane.

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    19 Sep 2026

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    “Where are you going?”

    “To the arena, Hollander. We are playing a game in three hours.”

    “That’s tomorrow, Rozanov,” Hollander says, smirking like Ilya might be fucking with him and he wants to make sure he’s in on the joke. He looks behind and around him. “Um, can I come inside?”

    “Hollander, we have game today. You were here yesterday.”

    Hollander is striding toward his kitchen, looking over his shoulder at Ilya like he’s getting tired of the joke. “Very funny. I was in Montreal yesterday, Rozanov.”

    “Hollander.” Ilya goes to stand in front of him. Hollander’s eyes flicker up and down his body the way that Ilya usually craves, but is rather unwelcome right now. “Today is Thursday. Game is today. Yesterday, you came to my house. We ate tuna melts, watched Buffalo game. Then, you left.”

    “Rozanov, it’s Wednesday morning. And I’ve never been to your house before.”

    “Hollander…”

    “Look at your phone if you don’t believe me.”

    Ilya snorts like a bull and pulls his phone out of his pocket, swipes down on the screen to look at the date.

    Wednesday, November 9th.


    Or: Ilya Rozanov in Groundhog Day!

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    19 Sep 2026

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    Damian clears his throat. “I require your assistance.”

    The words come out easier with the benefit of practice and the knowledge that no one will remember them tomorrow. Today. Tomorrow-today.

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    18 Sep 2026

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    The Swiss National League doesn’t care about the legendary Hollander-Rozanov rivalry. When the MLH can’t negotiate with the Hockey Players’ Union in time to prevent a hockey lockout at the start of the 2015 season, the Zürich Lions jump at the chance to sign both Shane and Ilya to short-term contracts. For four months in Switzerland, they share a team, a line, a house, and a bed. 

    Then the lockout ends in January, and it’s time to go back. Back to different countries, cities, lives. Beds.

    Reentry is harder than expected.

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    10 Sep 2026