✵

Now think about post coming-out Hollanov doing an ad campaign together (like Calvin Klein?? People would go crazy for it). Shane having so much fun on this shoot because of course his beloved husband is here, being silly, making him smile and laugh until his cheeks hurt, and also looking really sexy.

"Bro? BRO?" says Ilya, his hands on his hips. "My name is Baby, or 'Love-Of-My-Life', or 'Beloved Husband', or 'Rozanov' if I'm in trouble. Just like you are now, Hollander."

And that's all the warning Shane has before he's tackled to the couch, and Ilya's kissing him relentlessly all over his face and neck, more to tickle him than anything. In between all the kisses, Ilya is like, "What do you say, Hollander? Do I have to keep helping you remember my name?"

And Shane's laughing so hard he's crying like "No, no, I'm sorry, baby! I'm sorry! I'll never call you bro again." And finally Ilya stops and presses one last kiss to his lips, this one softer and sweeter.

"Okay, good. Now let's get some dinner, bro."

And Shane rolls his eyes, but he leans up to get another kiss from Ilya.

he puts shane in the car. grabs a black carry case from the house. drives somewhere shane has never been before. arrives (to shanes horror) at a shooting range. they go inside, black carry case in hand. they rent a lane. don yellow safety glasses and protective headphones.

cliff calmly opens the case, withdraws a matte black .45 caliber pistol with his initials engraved on the grip in gold. loads the full clip and hands the gun to shane. stands behind him, hands over his own, as he demonstrates how to use it. where the safety is. how to pull back the hammer. how to grip it just so and not lose it like a fish when it kicks.

then he reels in the target from the end of the lane. pulls the generic silhouette with crosshairs over the head and chest off the mount and pulls a folded piece of paper from his pocket and hangs it up in its place. he sends the paper back down to the end of the lane. helps shane set his stance, adjust his grip, line up his shot.

“now take everything you feel in here,” he taps shane’s temple, then his chest, “put it in here,” taps the barrel of the gun, “and send it down there.” points down the lane to his improvised target.

shane inhales. holds it. exhales. pulls the trigger nine times in a row.

the center of the printed out montreal metros logo at the end of the lane is absolutely obliterated.

Customer (calling from Ireland): “Yes hello, I would like to -”

Sheep in the background: *gentle baa*

Customer: “Uh, sorry, what I want to do is -”

Sheep: *slightly more insistent baa*

Customer: “No, not now! -cough- Excuse me. I have a reservation and -”

Sheep: *VERY LOUD ACCUSATORY BAA*

Customer: “Arnulf! Please be quiet, I am on the phone! … Sorry, I sincerely apologize on behalf of Arnulf.”

me: “I love and forgive him.”

Customer: “Don’t, he doesn’t deserve it. Anyway, I’m calling about -”

Arnulf: *small, very self-satisfied baa*

Cwsmer (yn ffonio o Iwerddon): “Ia helo, hoffwn i -”

Dafad yn y cefndir: *me dawel*

Cwsmer: “O, mae'n ddrwg gen i, beth hoffwn ei wneud yw -”

Dafad: *me ychydig yn fwy penderfynol*

Cwsmer: “Na, ddim rwan! -peswch- Esgusodwch fi. Mae gen i archeb wedi'i wneud a -”

Dafad: *ME GYHUDDOL HYNOD O UCHEL*

Cwsmer: “Bleddyn! Bydda'n dawel os gweli di'n dda, dwi ar y ffôn! … Mae'n ddrwg gen i, dwi'n ymddiheuro'n llaes ar ran Bleddyn.”

fi: “Rwy'n ei garu ac yn ei faddau.”

Cwsmer: “Peidiwch, dydy o ddim yn ei haeddu. Beth bynnag, dwi'n ffonio am -”

They try to turn practice in to a shirts and skins scrimmage and everyone is like no??? We need our pads??? "What's the point of all of these beautiful muscular bodies if we can't even admire them?"