Vicambulate



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    “Ilya,” Hollander breathes, which—Ilya isn’t sure Hollander has ever called him by his first name. Surely he has sometime in seven years of acquaintance? But the sound of it is novel, unfamiliar. 

    And far from unpleasant. 

    Then Hollander says, “Baby,” and Ilya knows for certain that he’s never called Ilya that, because it takes the air right out of Ilya’s lungs and makes his guts twist and fuck, he would have remembered if Hollander had ever called him that. Especially in that reverent tone. 

    It’s nice. 

    Ilya doesn't remember being married to Shane Hollander. Probably, he should tell someone.

    He decides not to.

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    11 Jun 2026

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    Shane Hollander is a man who thrives on structure, routine, the solid ground of a ten-year plan. Ilya likes that about him, likes the embracing squeeze of having a life organized in tandem with Shane.

    No one would call Ilya a man who thrives on structure. But it’s there, if not in his DNA then in the patterns of his brain. A call-and-response of: they do this, I do that.

    When Ilya’s life is flayed open for the world to dissect, how will they push-and-pull their way back towards what was once a well-organized life?


    “I thought we could go through the schedules and figure out what days we’ll be in the same cities this season, or when either of us have a couple of days off in a row. Maybe make a shared calendar, so we c—”

    “A sex calendar? Your parents are arriving in thirty minutes, and you are proposing making a sex calendar?” Oh, this was delicious. He’d be able to eat out on this for years, if Shane was willing to give him that long.

    “It’s not a sex calendar! It’s just … when we might be able to see each other,” he finished, already sounding defeated.

    “And what are you planning on doing when we are seeing each other? Not fucking?”

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    27 May 2026

  3. Public Bookmark 97

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    Ilya Rozanov doesn’t remember loving Shane Hollander.
    Not the beginning. Not the middle. Not the life they built together.
    But memory isn’t the only way back.
    Because even without it some choices still feel inevitable.

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    22 May 2026

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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.

    A year after mysteriously dropping out of the 2009 draft, Shane Hollander is signed by the Boston Raiders, right behind Ilya Rozanov. 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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    22 May 2026

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    “You’ll give me magical training?” Merlin asks.

    Arthur smiles. “Yes, and training in courtly etiquette. I imagine Ealdor doesn’t have nobles?”

    “We don’t have nobles, but we do have pigs. And chickens,” Merlin says. When Arthur raises his eyebrows at him, Merlin flushes heavily with embarrassment. “Oh, shut up. My lord.”

    “Don’t talk to your king like that,” Arthur says, but he doesn’t actually seem very upset about it, even though Merlin sort of wants to hit himself in the face. “Welcome to Camelot, sorcerer-apprentice Merlin of Ealdor.”

    Or: Merlin is sixteen when he comes to Camelot, vying for the new position of court sorcerer that has opened under King Arthur—a noble king, golden and lionhearted, who is trying to legalise magic in all of Albion. Of course, Merlin doesn't expect to be chosen.

    But he is.

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    25 Feb 2026