camelOrSnake



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    “Ilya, what are we gonna do?” Shane says.

    Ilya finishes whatever he has been doing on his phone, and tosses it gently to the bed beside him. He crosses the room to Shane, stands in front of him, squeezes into his shoulders with his big hands, rubbing them like he means to warm them up.

    “Looks like we will have a little vacation,” he says, with a big obnoxious grin.

     


     

    Boston and Montreal are sent to Paris to play against each other in an exhibition series in January 2017. Ilya and Shane decide to stay in Paris for one more night. Just one more night, so they can talk. Maybe finally understand each other.

    They aren't expecting a volcano to erupt in Iceland and close all the airspace in Europe, leaving them stranded there. Together.

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    25 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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    08 Jun 2026

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    “What is there to talk about?”

    “What’s there to talk about?!” Hollander scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re playing for my fucking team!”

    “I know.”

    “Why did you have to go and get traded?! You realise we’re going to have to see each other every day from now on, and play together, and-”

    “Yes,” Ilya interrupted. He didn’t want to know how long Hollander’s list was. “I know.”

    Hollander took a deep breath. “Okay, listen,” he said. “Just so we’re clear - we don’t know each other outside of playing against each other, right?”

    “Right.”

    “And we can’t- can’t hook up anymore.”

    ~

    OR: Ilya gets traded to Montreal in October 2014. He's lonely, and angry, and he misses Boston. He doesn't know if it helps that Hollander is there or not.

    title from Buckle by Florence and the Machine

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    06 Jun 2026

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    The thing was.

    The thing was that people knew Shane was married to him. To Ilya fucking Rozanov.

    So he could not fucking understand why this photographer kept hitting on his husband.

    Or: The Centaurs are involved in a sexy photoshoot.

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    03 Jun 2026

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    “You are planning to rob me or what?” He hears Rozanov call, and he can’t help but smile slightly even as he rolls his eyes, closing the door to the linen closet and feeling strangely lighter than when he opened it, reassured that he’s just trying to read into a blank page, that today doesn’t mean anything more than Rozanov doesn’t mind him being around, which is strangely flattering.

    “I don’t know,” he calls back. “Don’t Russians like diamonds and fur and stuff? Where should I start looking if I want to know what my options are?”

    He hears Rozanov laugh, and it makes him smile.

    When he joins him in the living room once more, Rozanov tugs him down to lean against him again. Shane goes easier this time, settling into it, knowing it doesn’t mean anything other than the fact that he just happens to be the closest warm body, the person on Rozanov’s roster who filled today’s slot.

    (the tuna meltdown doesn't happen) (this does not mean they get ANY better at communication)

    (or: how shane didn't realize he had a boyfriend for several months)

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    29 May 2026