sleepyhands



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    “Why do I taste blood in your mouth, solnyshko?”

    “I told you, my ex said it’s annoying when I’m too loud during sex. I guess it’s a habit. I bite my tongue sometimes so you won’t have to hear me that much.”

    “And I told you, I need you to give me the name of this ex so I can kill him with my bare hands. Is very serious matter.”

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    26 Jun 2026

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    Shane had been used to being alone. He'd never thought of himself as lonely. He honestly often craved the solitude, found it grounding. But that was before he knew what it was like to have someone to call, someone to touch. He was never lonely before Rozanov, but he'd been lonely ever since.

    April 2017: Shane does not get laid out on the ice.

    Ilya goes through with ending it.

    Shane lets him.

    What follows is eleven months of distance, denial, and a quiet kind of devastation neither of them knows how to name, let alone fix.

    They learn how to live without each other.

    (Or at least, how to pretend.)

    And then, almost a year later, the infamous collision happens and Shane goes down cold.

    And suddenly, neither of them can pretend it doesn’t matter.

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    15 Jun 2026

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    Anyway, Shane didn't remember exactly what was in the folder ... But he knew they were all good shots of him.

    He hastily clicked open the folder, his eyes barely glancing through the dozen or so shots there, vaguely registering a picture with a sunset background from his condo balcony, something of him laughing, a picture of him working at his laptop with his glasses on...

    The director called him again, and he shook his head, the photos blurring. Whatever. It would have to do.

    He clicked "select all," then the messages icon, then Rozanov's name. Hit send.

    ----

    Or: When never-hooked-up Shane and Ilya have to collaborate on a league charity project, Shane accidentally sends Ilya a nude.

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    05 Jun 2026

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    "Ilya had loved him through his worst moments. Ilya had helped him find a therapist when he’d collapsed on the floor of their hotel bathroom after losing a particularly brutal game, scratching at his chest. Ilya had held him, even when Shane yelled at him because there was panic crawling under his skin and he felt as though it might claw its way out. Ilya had told him it was okay; that it didn’t make him a bad player to resent the spotlight sometimes, that it didn’t make him a bad teammate to hate the team when they were too loud and too drunk and too physical, that it didn’t make him a bad person to need space to breathe. Ilya saved him.

    And look what you give him in return. You’re a shitty husband, Shane Hollander.

    You don’t deserve his last name."

     

    -

     

    content warnings: discussion of mental health, depiction of a panic attack, depiction of invasive medical procedure, depiction of violence (generally non-graphic), use of hate speech, depiction of a hate crime

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    10 May 2026

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    “You want to talk to people about me?” Shane asked quietly.

    There was something small and confused in the question. But Ilya was still furious and raw.

    “Well I would,” he sneered, “if there was anything about you that was fucking interesting to talk about! It would be nice to not be so fucking bored and miserable!”

    The second the words left his mouth, he watched the pain roll across Shane's features like a thousand fractures shattering through glass.

    Ilya had seen Shane nearly break ribs. He had seen him miss game-winning shots, take hits that left bruises blooming purple and black across his skin. He had never seen this.

    Shane closed his eyes for a long moment. He shook his head slightly, a tiny movement, then nodded once as if agreeing with something only he could hear. His face twisted briefly with a fresh wave of pain before he forced it to still.

    ---------

    What if Shane and Ilya don't make up so easily after the Boxing Day fight? The Centaur's plane never malfunctions, so Shane never proposes. Instead, Ilya gives him an ultimatum on coming out and going public. It backfires spectacularly.

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    28 Apr 2026