Reminiscences



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    Shrugging one shoulder far more casually than he possibly feels, Ilya says, “I like both. Is secret, okay?”

    “Okay,” Hollander says, voice cracking.

    He doesn’t say anything else. The air’s so heavy around them that it feels like being in the middle of a scrum, the weight and heat of all those bodies pressing down on you. Danger always feels like hockey; it’s the most dangerous thing Ilya knows, except for this. Everything dangerous in his life involves men’s bodies and just how close he can get to them. Closer than he probably should.

    Nobody knows why Shane Hollander dropped out of the 2009 draft at the last second, and a year later it stuns the whole hockey world when he's signed by the Boston Raiders. Having the two biggest stars in the league on the same line is great for Boston - but playing alongside their worst rival was never exactly in Shane or Ilya's plans. Especially not when staying away from each other starts to feel just as impossible as getting along.

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    25 Feb 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    IT'S SOOOOO GOOD AND WELL WRITTEN !!!!! THANK YOU, DEAR AUTHOR ❤

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    Pummel: Fuck Jane

    St-Simon: nah…

    St-Simon: i dont think shes done anything wrong…

    Pummel: youre right

    Pummel: Sorry Jane

    Pummel: FUCK ROZANOV

    Varkov: FUCK ROZANOV

    Connors: Hey guys did you see this article about Rose Landry and Shane Hollander?

    Carmichael: Bad timing, man.

    Connors: Oh

    Connors: Give me a second to read back.

    Connors: Oh….

    Connors: FUCK ROZANOV

    [Or, how the Raiders---in particular the long suffering Cliff Marleau, dealt with the Great Jane Debacle of 2016, told in a series of texts, posts, and Cliff being the best Bostonian friend Ilya could ask for]

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    25 Feb 2026

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    Shane reached out without thinking, his fingers brushing against the rough fabric of Ilya’s jacket sleeve.

    Ilya flinched away. “Dun’ touch me!”

    Shane blinked, thrown. “What the - ”

    “I already have boyfriend!” Ilya declared, pulling his jacket around himself like a shield. “Are practically engaged!”

    Shane just stared. “Ilya. It’s me.”

    “Only my boyfriend may unwrap me.” Ilya announced. “Is respect.”

    Ilya gets drunk and refuses to be touched by anyone except his boyfriend. Unfortunately for Shane, Ilya does not realize his boyfriend is the one taking him home.

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    24 Feb 2026

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    Shane’s eyes snap open. Wait a second.

    “Ilya,” Shane says, propping himself up on his elbows. “Ilya, wake up.”

    Ilya makes a pained noise, eyes still shut. “I shut curtains already.”

    “It’s not that. Ilya, hey. Don’t go back to sleep.” Ilya tries to bury back into Shane’s chest, but adrenaline knifes through Shane’s hangover long enough for him to peel Ilya off and roll him into his back. Ilya blinks blearily up at him, starfished in the sheets. Beautiful and naked and missing his mother’s cross.

     

    OR: When Ilya’s cross goes missing after the Centaurs celebrate their first Stanley Cup win, Shane is determined to get it back. And so are the Centaurs. And the rest of Ottawa.

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    23 Feb 2026

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    “I did something stupid,” Shane confesses, inhaling rapidly. He's still crying, still frozen in the doorway, besides his hitching chest and watering eyes. Hayden's never seen him like this, overtaken with emotion, bitter exhaustion in his voice. He makes a soft choked noise, and Hayden immediately wants to kill something, whatever it is that's making him feel so awful. “I—Hayds—you're gonna hate me—”

    “No,” Hayden says before he can even finish the thought, almost hurt by the accusation. “No way. You're—I wouldn't. I won't.”

    Shane sniffs, offering him a sad smile, his eyes watery and solemn. It's an unfamiliar look, burnt through with sorrow and twisting doubt, sharp worry in the furrow of his brow. “You are,” he says, soft and certain. “I do, and I'm the one who's doing it.”

    OR: Shane returns to the hotel room, post-tuna melt. Hayden spirals.

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    23 Feb 2026