Sateimos



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    In the early hours of Saturday, the Hockey world was ablaze with the news that Ilya Rozanov was dead. Killed in a tragic car accident leaving behind a slew of devastated fans and a grieving husband still reeling in shock.

    The news also came as an incredible shock to Ilya when he awoke that same day, hungover and bleary, but very much alive. 

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    20 Feb 2026

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    “This is hard to talk about,” is all he says, though he knows it will amount to nothing.

    Shane’s fingertips are feather-soft on his chest. “You have to.”

    He has to, because Shane and Ilya have this thing, now, this agreement. Nothing is too hard to talk about. Nothing is off limits. They have to be bare, have to surrender the deepest crevice of their soul to one another. And Ilya, for whom this is easier said than done, whose chest carries a perpetual weight, an immovable mass, it’s all worth it – worth the relief smoothing over Shane’s features, the reassurance that he’s not worried anymore, that Ilya can give him this peace, albeit only a fragment of what Shane gives him by just being there when he wakes up. He would never say it, but he thinks that what he has to offer to Shane amounts to nothing – nothing compared to what Shane does, what Shane is, by simply nuzzling into his chest and sighing into his sleep, late at night when all Ilya can do is lay awake and just feel.

    “I need more,” Ilya says. “And is nothing you can do. I need you inside me, and it feels terrible.” He swallows, with great difficulty. God. “I need to– I need to eat you.”

    or, Ilya never knew love can hurt this good

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    20 Feb 2026

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    “Hey,” Shane said quickly, breathless. “It’s me.”

    “...Hello, Hollander.” Rozanov’s voice was deep and solemn.

    “Are you okay?”

    A short laugh echoed down the phone. “What do you think?”

    Shane cringed at himself. “Right, sorry. Stupid question.”

    “Is fine.” Rozanov sighed. “I am okay, I suppose… I do not know.”

    “I’m… I’m sorry.”

    “Why? You are not the one who sold story.”

    ~~

    The coach's son from Ilya's youth sells his story, and Ilya is left to pick up the pieces. Hollander helps more than he could have ever expected.

     

    set early 2016, pre-tuna melt

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    18 Feb 2026

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    Shane's accident isn't enough to stop Ilya from breaking up with him.

    — An alternate ending to s01e05 with a way more depressed Ilya

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    17 Feb 2026

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    “Don’t–” Ilya starts, already reaching, already cupping Shane’s face between both hands, thumbs warm and tender against his cheekbones like they’ve always belonged there.

    Shane’s eyes are big and gorgeous and genuinely curious. “Don’t what?”

    Don’t make me look like a lovesick idiot. Don’t make my heart trip over itself for a way out of my chest and into yours. Don’t say it like that—so fucking sincere—like you don’t know how devastating it is for me.

    “Don’t butcher my language,” he says instead and kisses Shane’s smile hard, like reflex, like gravity, like there was never going to be another option.

    -

    Shane sets out to learn Russian. Ilya discovers he's incapable of keeping his composure.

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    16 Feb 2026

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