This is brills!

"So...I have a question."

They're in a fancy club, one Marleau has picked. A place to celebrate, he said. Ilya should have known that Cliff would have absolutely zero issues about this.

"If you are going to ask me about his dick..." he says, grinning and taking a shot, "...I will tell you, is as big as his scoring record."

Cliff lets out a stunned laugh, knocking back his shot as well. "Nah, man, that's not what I wanted to know. But good for you, I guess?"

Ilya winks. "Yes. Very good for me."

Another shocked laugh. "Fuck, man, good luck to Hollander, dealing with you for the rest of his life! Man's got more patience than most!" Cliff shakes his head and smiles. "Nah, I just wanted to know, like...how'd it happen?"

"How did we meet, you mean?" Ilya clarifies, already smiling as he thinks back to that fateful day.

"Nah, idiot, I know how you met. Everyone knows that. But how did you actually...decide to look past hating each others' guts enough to hook up?" Cliff asks, motioning to the bartender for more alcohol.

Ilya has to contemplate that one, because it's a complicated topic. How does he explain that they never hated each other? That they'd always been doing this? That really, now that he's been thinking about it, he's probably always had feelings for Shane?

But before he can say a word, Cliff speaks again, slapping a hand to his own forehead.

"Oh! Fuck, man, I'm such an idiot!" he says loudly, banging his hand on the table.

Ilya furrows his brow. Has Cliff really figured it out?

"Montreal Jane introduced you!"

He has to take several moments to process these words. Perhaps he's forgotten how to understand English? "What?" he asks, staring.

"Yeah, man! That girl you were obsessed with for so long! I bet she knew Hollander, right? Introduced you two outside of the rink? That's how you hooked up for the first time?" And Cliff's face is so proud, like he's solved the biggest puzzle. 

Ilya doesn't know whether he should laugh or cry. 

I was without devices for a bit so no art. Alas!

how‘s the water?

you‘re in it

the idea of shane who denies himself SO MUCH and optimizes SO MUCH OF HIS LIFE and is SO focused and SO dedicated

but who cannot resist the siren call of Forbidden Mangoes

it ends up being his end of season treat

he did a whole season, he did a great job, he stayed focused and On It the whole year. other people celebrate with champagne. shane celebrates with an allergen.

shane who has one last photoshoot to knock out before he's free and is just oh no :) it conflicts with my husband's schedule :) guess that means ilya can't go with me :) so sad :)

why are you so happy

i'm not :)

then he does the photoshoot and has knocked out the last thing he has to do in front of a camera for a while.

now it is Mango Time.

he facetimes ilya with the lights down WAY low later and ilya just ?? shane??? i can barely see you, malysh. turn a light on.

uuuhh, no thanks. it's sexier like this.

what? i want to se-

...

shane is it the fucking mangoes

...no

SHANE

YOU GET TO SMOKE SOMETIMES. I GET TO EAT MANGOES.

ARE YOU FORGETTING PART WHERE ALLERGIES CAN GET WORSE WITH EXPOSURE?

THEN I SHOULD ENJOY THEM WHILE I CAN

And then they win the cup together, for the first time.

They've won and carried the cup and the loved ones have entered the locker room and everyone has been drinking out of the cup already, everyone at least tipsy if not completely drunk, sogging wet from champagne and beer and what else, and it's time for the the media to do their round of questions! Not a whole interview, of course, but some quick questions to get the winners fresh reaction and capture that victorious feeling, you know?

And they're happy, they're in love, they won their first cup together just now, they're tipsy and everything is lovely and wonderful! And Shane feels so fucking proud. Of Ilya, of his team, of himself. He's so proud of himself. He adapted to his new team and truly contributed to this win, especially the last two rounds of the playoffs where they did a series and a half with Ilya playing with bruised ribs, and Shane's line had to pick up the slack and increase their already long ice time minutes... Shane is proud. Shane feels like he truly earned this. He earned this happiness and the wonderful summer he's about to have. He earned anything and everything he might want.

And then the media comes and the questions come and Shane's so fucking happy and thirsty and hot, and it's summer and they've been playing this last series against LA, six games and three of them in hot California.

And they ask "Hollander, you just won, what's the first thing you're gonna do?"

And he says "I'm gonna eat some mangoes"

And Ilya is answering his own set of questions a few feet to the right but he heard him, and he turns on his feet so fast he almost looses his balance and screams "YOU WILL NOT"

And the reporter who asked the question in the first place was already confused, all of them were, really, because eating mangoes? That's the first thing he would do? What kind of celebration is that? But then Rozanov is making that angry sound and Hollander responds with a very, very offended face and what is this about, that's juicy, so they all shut up and let them bicker.

And Shane goes, mullishly "I will eat as many mangoes as I want!"

"Absolutely not! Why are you like this? It's not good for you!"

"Neither is smoking, neither is alcohol, or the absolute trash junk food you have all the time!"

"I quit smoking! And I'm not allergic to fucking McGriddles"

"But I'm sure is worse! You have them all the time! I can have mangoes one time! I just won the cup!"

"Allergies get worse with exposure Shane, you CAN'T have mangoes one time! It's a bad idea!"

"YOU WERE A BAD IDEA"

"What thE FUCK DO YOU-"

"I KNOW I'M ALLERGIC TO MANGOES. I ALWAYS KNEW I WAS ALLERGIC TO MANGOES. IF I WASN'T THE PERSON WHO KNEW MANGOES WERE BAD FOR ME AND ATE THEM ANYWAYS I WOULDN'T BE THE ONE WHO SLEPT WITH YOU AT NINETEEN"

"Shane, lyubimyy, are you comparing ME TO MANGOES?"

"Yes!"

"They are bad for you!"

"Well I still love them! And you! TAKE IT OR LEAVE IT"

“You don’t want to go in there,” Crystal said, not bothering to open her eyes. Crystal was starting to get more open about how much she picked up psychically, hiding it less. Niko was proud of her, and tried not to be nervous about it, because if people like Charles and Edwin could be fine about someone constantly feeling at their emotions then Niko definitely could too.

Crystal picked her head up from where it was thunked back against the wall, to look at Niko. “Edwin’s having a crash-out, Charles is dealing with it.” She looked sideways at the door. “Thank god for all the wards and shit or you’d be hearing a lot of yelling.”

Niko nodded and slid down the wall to sit next to Crystal. Edwin’s “crash-outs” - as Crystal had started calling them, and even though Charles had already had a name for them, Crystal’s word stuck - weren’t all that common, maybe once a month if that, but enough for even Niko, fairly freshly back from Elsewhere, to have a pretty good idea of the shape of it. According to Charles, they were a lot rarer before, well, everything, at least for the last couple decades. But Niko thought it was pretty fair for… everything… to leave you wound up for a while, and for a while to be years, if you were immortal. Or undead.

“What’s it about?”

“He bolted when we were fighting the Greenwitch last night. I think she reminded him of Esther and Hell at the same time and he freaked. I’m fine, and Charles is fine, and we beat her, but, whatever, he’s pissed at himself about it. Last thing I heard before Charles shoved me out the door was him calling himself ‘a fucking coward'. There was something about why we put our safety in his hands when he’s broken, or something. You know. Bullshit.”

Niko nodded again, sagely. “Crash-outs usually are. But they let you see where the truth is, sometimes.”

Crystal grunted. “For example, Edwin definitely hates himself even more than he hates me. No idea how I didn’t see that a lot earlier.”

Niko reached out and poked Crystal with a lavender-painted nail. “You know he doesn’t hate you.”

“Sure.” A bit of a yell managed to get past the muting built into the office’s wards, which was impressive. Edwin must be putting a bit of magic into it as well as volume. Crystal raised an eyebrow at the closed door. “Thank fuck for Charles’s eardrums being dead. No idea how a guy that tall can get that shrill.”

Niko shrugged. She wriggled her shoulders against the wall to get comfortable; it was pretty clear she and Crystal would be waiting for a while. It’d be fine, though. Edwin always calmed down in the end, and Charles would take care of him when he did. She pulled a deck of cards out of her pocket.

“Gin Rummy?”

Charles almost dropped his bouncy ball and spent a few seconds fumbling to catch it, then frowned back up at Edwin. “See what?”

“Can everyone see what I am? Monty knew to approach me, or at least Esther did; the Cat King evidently saw it written all over me; and all the boys at school could see it so clearly they killed me for it. Is it really that obvious, to everyone? Did I only not know because I can’t see myself? Did you know, the moment you saw me?”

“Oh,” Charles said, and sat heavily down on the sofa.

Edwin didn’t go on, just stared at the lamp waiting for Charles to answer.

“I’m not really sure how to answer that,” Charles said.

“Well. I suppose that is an answer.”

“No,” Charles said hastily. “I mean - I mean, you are - you are kinda swish, yaknow? Elegant. And - I mean, I did notice that, I guess, but - but all sorts of guys can be graceful, yeah? Doesn’t have to mean - I mean I guess it did, for you, but I just… I just sorta figured that was just you, I guess. Thought it was you being old, at first, maybe, and then when we met other ghosts your age I just, yeah. I decided it was just you being you and you clearly didn’t want me to look any further, so I didn’t.”

“You did know, then,” Edwin said quietly. “Or did see it, at least.” He paused. “Did you not mind?”

“No!” Charles half-yelled it, because he couldn’t let that stand for even a second. “I mean, the first thing I saw was that you were gentle with me, and that was - it’s not exactly like I was gonna complain.”

Edwin’s head tilted to the side.

Charles shrugged. “I guess I’d had enough of rough boys for a while.”

Raised eyebrows. “I am hardly easy to get along with.”

Charles grinned. “You’re funny. And clever. Which is different, from the boys I grew up with, and from my dad, and - if you wanna be funny and sharp when you’re mad, instead of hitting people, that’s fine by me, mate. I wasn’t gonna complain.”

Charles took a deep breath, put his ball in his pocket, and stood to put his hands on Edwin’s shoulders. Edwin looked up at him, from his chair at the desk, eyes soft and beautiful, but with that glittering sharpness deep down inside that never left.

“Look, mate. Are you different from other boys - maybe, yeah. But other boys killed the both of us. So I’m kinda thinking that’s not a bad thing. And maybe it’s just good that we got to stick around until now, when you can be how you are, and I can - I can love you for it. And neither of us can get killed for it this time. And if other people see that, and they have a problem with it, they’re the assholes, yeah? They’re the ones with the problem. They always were. Not us. Not you.”

He lifted a hand to Edwin’s cheek, and Edwin leaned into it.

both ask themselves, over and over again: just how does the world see me, if i can barely remember how i saw myself in the mirror?

do truly i look so outwardly other that people cannot help but pick up on desires i barely understand myself? is there something so utterly different about my face that everyone knows just what i got killed for?

do i look more like my father than i remember? does my jaw clench like his did? do my eyes have his shape, does my chin come to the same point, or did my mother win the fight for my face?

Executive dysfunction comes from a lack of available dopamine. Common advice is wrong. You need to provide your own dopamine before you can start. Otherwise you're trying to run your car on empty.

"But what if I still don't do it" well you already weren't getting it done anyway. Now you have a little treat. Try again later.

You deserve kindness and care even when you aren't being productive.

Niko: yes?

Crystal: I need you to send Charles some gay manga your gayest-ass yaoi. he needs it. Immediately

Niko: I have a reading list prepared for him obviously but why is it urgent?

Crystal: I just got to the office and Edwin was fucking spinning him around in the air while he giggled and obviously I was like what the fuck Nd they were just like “why are you acting weird this is normal boy guy behavior” “So you’ve done this… before??” “Of course Crystal this is perfectly normal boring guy boy man bro activities” no the fuck it ISN’t So I need you to educate Charles

Niko: …I don’t know, I’m trying to work on the match-making thing. There Is A Platonic Explanation For This and sometimes people know themselves better than I do And

Crystal: Charles’s fucking foot popped up when Edwin put him down. While giggling His foot Fucking Popped Niko