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during the game after tuna-melt day, Ilya gets hurt on the ice badly! he's rushed to a hospital and while there's no permanent damage, he has some memory loss-- meaning he forgets Shane ran out on him the day before. Shane finds out when he goes to visit Ilya in the hospital because even though he doesn't know where they stand after he ran away, he still needs to see Ilya's okay before having to leave the city. when he learns about the memory loss, he decides to just... not tell Ilya what happened. he wants things to go back to normal with them.
this of course means that a month and a half later, when the metros are playing in boston again, he realizes Ilya planned that day despite making it seem like it was an 'in the moment' decision.
Ilya 'casually' suggests he can stay after sex, he makes them the same tuna melts he did the first time (only now Shane notices the ingredients are already prepared), he asks the same line of questions which Shane understands now is him asking about him seeing any girls ("I see you and rose Landry together a lot" "oh. yeah but she's just a friend" "so you and rose Landry are not...?" "no, no. it's just gossip").
he sees it for what it is. Ilya trying.
when they go to bed that night, because Shane stayed this time, Shane knows he's going to have to tell Ilya he knows this day was planned. that he knows because he lived it before and Ilya just can't remember...
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in case anyone is looking through the notes trying to find the original artist it’s will mcphail !! feel free to check out his site but also here are some other things he made too !!
In order to understand Shane Hollander you have to understand he kept hooking up with Ilya BECAUSE he thought his feelings were not reciprocated. He kept it going specifically because he was sure he would not have to deal with actually being in a relationship with a guy which would require him to actually come to terms with his sexuality.
Its why the moment he realizes there is a chance his feelings are reciprocated on tuna melt day he flees.
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not to give pirates of the caribbean too much credit but it really is the only major franchise Ive seen that was able to pull off the “historical and mythical exist at the same time” with any sort of success
#like how on land theyre in history but on sea theyre in mythology really communicates the wonder and love the #pirates have for the sea so much better than long soliloquies or good cinematography #and then the meta narrative is constantly indicating that the spread of empire and greed for money is driving it away #man……………………………………………………………….. (@liridi)
Building on this its so funny how everyone has a globe but the moment the pirates hit the seas they sail off of the end of the (flat) world. its all in the details etc etc
Swimming makes you a different kind of tired, right? And Shane knows this, has grown up in and around lakes, he built his Cottage right next to a lake. Ilya does not. Yes he's an athlete but when he comes to the Cottage it's the first time he spends a longer amount of time in the water, swimming around, doing handstands, all of it.
So his first post lake nap hits hard. Ilya, freshly showered, just meant to sit down on the couch for a second but he wakes up four hours later. Half his curls pressed to the side of his head, the other fluffy because he fell asleep with his hair still a bit wet. He's got faint lines on his cheek from where his face was pressed into one of the pillows. No idea what time it is or how long he's been asleep. It takes him a minute to come back online.
"Shane?", he mumbles, not fully awake yet but already searching for Shane.
"Right here", comes Shane's voice and, oh, yes he is. Ilya blinks sleepily at him. It takes him another minute to realise that his feet are in Shane's lap. One of Shane's hands is on his shin, thumb softly caressing it. In his other hand he's holding a book. Ilya watches as Shane puts his bookmark into the book, putting it on the small table next to the couch so he can give Ilya his full attention.
"Good nap?", Shane asks. And he's smiling and his eyes are warm and his thumb keeps caressing Ilya's shin and Ilya just feels so warm and safe and happy because he still can't believe he actually gets to have this. With neither of them having to rush, to leave, to pretend that they didn't want to stay in the first place.
So Ilya just nods, stretching and then settling back into the cussions. "Sorry for falling asleep", he says, voice raspy from sleep, eyes already falling closed again. Because, well. He did just fully pass out on Shane. But Shane just smiles at him, squeezing his shin.
"It's okay, Ilya. We have time. Go back to sleep, I'll be here."
And Ilya falls back asleep, safe and happy and with the promise of Shane right next to him.
The deadset determination with which Shane starts to persue Ilya once he allows himself to actually feel his emotions is nothing short of poetic. Shane is an immovable object until he becomes the unstoppable force. All the time he held himself back by compartmentalisation and represssion, but once the switch is flicked, his love for Ilya drives him forward, steadily and so bravely. He gets on his mission to get his man back in Tampa. Gently but persistently works his way through Ilya's emotional barriers. Doesn't even let a concussion stop him from inviting Ilya to his cottage, bravely sharing his sacred privacy. Making plans for Ilya, himself and their future, while honoring Irina. Stands shaking and afraid infront of his parents and tells them he loves Ilya. Shane is deeply commited to Ilya and he would move the world for him.
From Shane's day one with the Centaurs he is just in for the bit when it comes to Ilya's antics and he is Ilya's biggest enabler.
Admittedly, Ilya was a bit worried before that first day, thinking off all the silly stories he made up for his team just funsies and how Shane is actually the only one who knows him so well that he could read Ilya for filth and expose it all. Shane is funny, his chirps are deadly, but how far is he willing to go along with Ilya's bullshittery?
Turns out, very far. Til the end of the world, probably.
Luca immediately asks Shane if it's true that Ilya is a descendent of the Romanov family? Yes, Shane answers without batting an eye, Ilya is royalty, technically, and through their marriage, he is as well.
Did Ilya really have to fight a bear in the Siberian winter when he was just 14 years old, Bood asks. Oh, totally, and afterwards, he still had to walk through one-metre-high snow for ten kilometres to get to school, Shane answers conversationally, absolutely impressive isn't it? (Shane has to raise his eyebrow at his purebred city boy of a husband afterwards).
Holmberg asks if Ilya really got invited to a friendly race against a few F1 drivers in Monaco and actually won? Yeah, beat Lewis Hamilton, Shane answers with a feigned eye roll. By 0.35 seconds, Shane and Ilya answer in unison, and Ilya winks at Shane.
But Ilya doesn't really have contacts with the Bratva, does he, Dillion asks, obviously slightly terrified. Shane shrugs and is like, yeah, well I can't tell to which extent, but I mean it was an open secret that Rozanov gave out season tickets to his special friends, if you know what I mean. And I know you had this rookie in Boston, Ilya, what was his name, I don't know, the lame one? Yeah, Miller, right, couldn't keep up with the speed on the wing. He disappeared, must be 8 years ago now? Can't find any trace of him, anywhere. Of course it's only rumours but...
This will be the best seaon ever, Ilya decided then and there. Playing with his husband/hockey king/best friend/soulmate is already a dream coming true. But honest, earnest Shane, with his deadpan expression and good boy reputation will make the perfect partner in crime.
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i’m obsessed with the idea of the centaurs mixing around their lines for Fun against low-ranked teams. they’ve got the two best players in the league, plus bold, luca, and troy who are really all first line players
when the centaurs play low-ranked teams they don't really have a rivalry with, they're totally gonna fuck around. shane and ilya on wing, bood in the center, and shane and ilya are competing against each other to score the goal. they’re all collaborating to get wyatt the most goalie goals in league history through a mix of dubiously legal curling tactics and fucking with the fourth line. fuck it, empty next because wyatt is on the other side of the ice. (crucially, the only reason he’s there is because shane and ilya peer pressured him into it. he does NOT want to be out of the crease) shane is living his best life doing two minute shifts but staying on the ice to tell the younger players what to do. they’re trying to score goals exclusively with backhand shots (ilya and shane are top of the league in them respectively and shane IS trying to change that). shane and ilya are slamming each other into the boards with a player from the other team in between them. fuck it, hold ilya out of the first few rounds, then throw him in the fourth line. scare the shit out of the other team and make the 4th line step it up. pride night pride line. ilya is telling everyone how he’s going to suck shane’s dick and shane is pretending to be embarrassed but secretly loves it. there is ABSOLUTELY a secret hollanov challenge that determines what type of sex they’re having. sometimes it’s arbitrary.
this does backfire on them once or twice, and they accidentally lose to buffalo because they were so locked in on the goalie goal (achieved) but uh. buffalo definitely snuck some pucks in when wyatt was playing offence. (weibe yells at them and actually punishes them for that one, yeah it was funny but what the fuck were you doing, we’ve lost four games this season and one of them was to buffalo???)
disclaimer idk ball (puck?) that much but like. the centaurs are an absolutely STACKED team, they’re practically running an all-stars team against teams barely scraping by. shane and ilya both need competition like they need air to breathe, and they’re gonna make it on their own if they have to
It doesn’t happen often—Shane’s usually a deep sleeper. He rarely finds himself as a twist and turner or waking up in the middle of the night. Ilya, he feels, is always shifting or out of bed for something—using the bathroom, a glass of water, getting that pillow just right, blanket on, blanket off, tucking Shane against his chest or turning and molding himself back against his boyfriend. Sometimes he has nightmares which come and go. Frequently, Shane’s noticed, during certain months of the year or when things become particularly stressful with the Centaurs or between the two of them when time or distance stretches them too far apart.
Shane knows what to do when Ilya has a nightmare; there’s a balance in giving him space to talk or just feel however he needs to. Sometimes Ilya will tell him everything, other times he will inch closer and breathe deeply and settle against the warmth of Shane’s body and the feel of his hands brushing through his curls and fall back asleep.
But Shane? Shane feels like he sleeps so soundly that he rarely remembers his dreams when he wakes up, let alone having nightmares that are vivid enough to pin him to the bed in the middle of the night.
Which is probably why he’s disoriented when it happens.
Shane jerks awake in a cold sweat, his fingers fumbling for—something, anything to grab onto. He doesn’t know what time it is; late, most likely. Late, late, late. It’s raining, he can hear the fat droplets slam against the windows, the rumbling of thunder in the distance. There’s a crack of lightning that somehow shakes the entire cottage or maybe that’s still him, equilibrium completely offkilter. The sound of the storm outside crashing and thrumming is banging against his eardrums, far too much like the breaking of ice—sudden, overwhelming, and he—he can’t breathe. Ilya slipped through the fractures far too fast, faster than he could grab him—too late—
Ilya. Ilya.
Shane thrusts himself forward with every intention of turning the bedside lamp on because he just—he needs to be able to see, but he overshoots and knocks it right off the nightstand. The clatter instantly wakes his boyfriend, who jolts awake. Ilya’s one hand comes down on Shane’s leg as the other struggles to turn the other bedside light on,
“What is happening?” Ilya’s voice is choked with sleep, accent thick from being woken up suddenly.
“Sorry,” Shane manages, his own voice tight as light spills into the room; a soft, warm glow compared to the rain outside. He opens his mouth to say something else, anything that’s not him just sitting far too still, but thunder cracks like a whip and he pictures ice underneath his skates disappearing all over again.
He’s never heard anything so deafening before, so absolute.
“Yebat',” Ilya mutters, scrubbing a hand over his face. He blinks a few times, seemingly trying to wake himself up before he pulls himself out of bed. It’s not until he’s on Shane’s side of the mattress, picking up the fallen lamp, that he gets a good look at him. His eyebrows draw together and he slowly sits down next to Shane’s thighs, reaching out to gently clasp his fingers around his chin, “What’s wrong?”
Shane shakes his head, trying to backtrack, trying to get himself together because he…he refuses to fall apart over a nightmare. Over something that’s never even happened. Ilya’s here, right in front of him—warm and solid and real. That’s what matters.
“Nothing, I—the thunder woke me up.”
Ilya brushes his thumb over his jawline, “Don’t lie to me, Shane.” His voice is gentle, “You are shaking.”
Shane bites down on the inside of his cheek. He doesn’t think he can say it. Ilya waits, patient, his other hand rubbing back and forth along Shane’s thigh. He’s grateful that Ilya eventually fills the silence again, right in-between the downpour of rain and the rolling of thunder,
“Bad dream?”
His chin tips down even though Ilya keeps him between his fingers, “It’s stupid.”
Ilya sighs out of his nose, shaking his head, “Tell me; I will not think it is stupid. Obeshchat'.”
Shane swallows, closing his eyes and dipping his nose and lips against the calloused skin of Ilya’s fingers. He knows there’s a logical explanation for this—nightmares are just waking concerns, they’re fears and worst-case scenarios and the feeling of something unknown. Something that can’t be planned or explained or organized; something that often doesn’t make sense, no matter how much you want it to.
“We were skating together,” Shane finally shares, his voice soft and almost fading into the rainfall, “But…we weren’t at a rink, we were on a lake that iced over.” He swallows, his gaze finding Ilya’s, “Not here,” He motions outside the cottage, though he’s not sure it matters. Not really. “We were holding hands and—and the ice cracked.”
It had felt so real. The trembling of the ice underneath his skates, how it threw him off balance, how he dropped Ilya’s hand—
He let go of Ilya’s hand. Too late, too late, too late.
Ilya hums softly but doesn’t speak, as if he can figure out where this is going.
“You disappeared, right under the ice, and I couldn’t—I couldn't find you, Ilya.” Shane lets out a long breath but when he goes to take oxygen back into his lungs, he hiccups. His voice wavers, his eyes misting over with unshed tears as he thinks about how cold he was, how he kept skating on broken ice, looking for him, shouting, throat going raw from yelling—
“You were gone, you were—” Shane draws in another sharp breath, his features crumbling as he tries to cover his face with his hand. None of it was fucking real and yet he still feels that ice settle into his bones, the kind of cold that stays with you. The kind that never leaves.
Ilya shakes his head quickly, inching closer to him on the bed. “Shh,” He whispers, “Shh, come here, moya lyubov'.” He wraps his one arm around Shane’s shoulders, folding him into his chest. Shane’s face tucks itself into Ilya’s shoulder, a shuddered sound leaving his lips that sounds far too much like a sob. Ilya’s other hand smoothes circles along his back, moving to thread into his hair, his thumb stroking back and forth along the back of his neck.
They’re quiet for a few moments, Ilya just holding onto Shane tightly, gently rocking him back and forth in place.
“You know,” Ilya says after a moment, pressing a kiss to Shane’s shoulder, “I did fall through ice once when I was a kid. My brother pulled me out,” He breathes out of his nose, “Was one of the only times I was happy to see him.”
Shane sniffles and Ilya only pulls back when Shane does. He wipes a hand over his cheek, Ilya taking over for him by brushing his thumb along the bone where his freckles are. He then leans over and presses a long kiss above his eyebrow,
“I do not think it would happen twice in my life, hmm?” Ilya offers a small smile, bumping their noses together. The corners of Shane’s mouth twitches, “Besides, you and I will hold onto one another, yes?”
Shane keeps Ilya’s gaze for a long moment before nodding, their foreheads coming to rest together before he presses a kiss to Ilya’s cheek, his jawline, the corner of his mouth and then finally his lips. Ilya hums lightly, lying back down in bed, pulling Shane to settle on top of him. He reaches for his bedside lamp and turns it off, letting Shane get comfortable, tucked between his legs and underneath his chin. Shane closes his eyes, pressing his nose against his pulsepoint, feeling the beat of his heart there and underneath his hand. Ilya’s fingers trail over his shoulder, shuffling blankets over top of him.
And that lingering ice in Shane’s veins eventually thaws and disappears.
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