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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    “Go?” Rozanov repeats, and Shane thinks he manages to nod, thinks he manages to spin some kind of excuse that he knows Rozanov doesn’t really buy, but he needs to go. He needs to get out of here. He needs to find somewhere quiet and calm where he can ride out this panic and painful tightness until he can catch his breath again. He needs-

    He needs to go.

    “I’m sorry,” he says, turning heel and resisting the urge to just book it right for the front door only because he’d rather not have to explain to Hayden why he returned from a hookup with Boston Lily in men’s clothes that he certainly didn’t leave in.

    It’s not until he makes it halfway up the stairs to Rozanov’s bedroom that it occurs to him in a cold rush that it isn’t just anxiety that makes it this hard to breathe.

    “No,” he tells himself firmly, white knuckling the bannister and trying to take a deep breath just to prove that he can.

    It wheezes.

    (how the tuna meltdown is averted through the power of food allergies and anaphylaxis)

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    06 Jul 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    Then like an anomaly in one of his datasets, a green OPEN tag appears next to one of the restaurants. Shane squints his eyes, having difficulty seeing properly without his glasses.

    Irina's Kitchen
    4.02 stars
    3 reviews

    Shane doesn't bother reading them. He taps on the website and waits for it to load. Only to be met with error.

    Sighing he exits the page and keeps on scrolling. Nothing that is open catches his interest and the rest are closed. He's wondering how stale celery would taste dipped in pickle juice when his eyes land on Irina's Kitchen once more.

    There's a phone number under the address. Shane bites his lower lip and wonders if he should call.

    A woman with an accented voice picks up after the 5th ring.

    “Hello?”

    “Uh, hey, are you guys still open?”

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    05 Jul 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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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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    5/5
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    05 Jul 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    Selected text messages from the phones of Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander, circa 2020-2021.

     
    Troy Barrett: I’m planning to drive up to Toronto to finish packing up my apartment on Saturday, and I was wondering if you’d want to grab dinner after your game while we’re both in town?
    -
    Jane: …did you tell Barrett about us?
    Lily: no i promise
    Lily: he maybe thinks it is possible, but i did not tell
    Jane: I don’t think he has any idea
    Lily: what makes you say this
    Jane: Just a hunch

     
    Or: Troy asks for Shane’s number, and Ilya gives it to him. What could go wrong? Or maybe more importantly, what could go right?

    Series
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    04 Jul 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    GORGGG

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    "Hi, solnyshko.”
    The Russian pet name set a firework off inside Shane's mind as he heard it cooed from behind him. The intonation was just as he remembered, but the voice was much deeper.

    He turned and felt himself short circuit. It took every ounce of willpower to not let his jaw drop cartoonishly to the floor. Shane would recognize his individual features anywhere, even after 5 years. But it was as if someone had snapped their fingers and the smug, silly Russian boy who had been attached to Shane's hip for 3 summers was transformed into some sort of fucking Adonis right before his eyes.

    “Ilya-” was all Shane managed before strong arms were wrapped around his waist and lifting him off the ground in a greeting all too familiar from years ago.

     

    OR
    When Shane Hollander & Ilya Rozanov spent their summers as teens in an elite hockey camp, they quickly became inseparable friends. But they lose touch when Shane moves on as a prospect for the NHL and Ilya for the KHL.

    Years later, Montreal makes a bold move to take the hottest player in the KHL. After hearing of the Russian's reputation, the Montreal Captain is tasked with keeping his old best friend and new teammate out of trouble.

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    02 Jul 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    they love each other so much i feel ill