Lower Body Injury
Hollanov - Rated E - 20.8k - 3/4 Chapters - ONGOING
Their annual California (and Vegas) road trip was far too long for Shane and Ilya’s liking. Shane had reinstated his ‘no sex on the road’ rule after Ilya’s hat trick in San Jose and they were both dying inside.
Once home, it didn’t take them long to chase each other up the stairs. It had been far too long for the both of them. Finally in their bedroom with no one to possibly overhear them, they went for it - only maybe a little too fast.
OR
From the sudden lack of dick in his ass, Shane knew something was wrong.
But if you never try, you'll never know
Hollanov - Rated T - 14.3k - Complete
Throughout the final year of his contract with the Voyageurs, Shane, his family and friends, and hockey fans all wonder what he’s going to do about his expiring contract.
Change is scary. Voicing that you're scared – to others but mainly to yourself – is scarier.
and so the sealion fell in love with the loon
Hollanov - Rated E - 4k - Complete
The moment Ilya suggested he could marry Svetlana, Shane saw red. He feels like he could kill Ilya for saying this so casually. How dare he suggest that. After all they've been through, the lying, the sneaking around. Did all of this mean nothing to Ilya?
Shane wanted Ilya and he's willing to do whatever it takes to make sure Ilya is his forever.
Final Boarding Call
Hollanov - Rated G - 2.2k - Complete
Eyes still glued out the window, Ilya watched as they taxied to the runway. He noticed his leg starting to bounce again but was powerless to stop it. To anyone else on the plane he must look like a nervous flyer.
He was finally on his way to Montreal. Finally on his way to Shane. Finally able to hope for something more.
Come On, Let’s Get You Your Chicken Parmesan
Hollanov - Rated T - 2.4k - Complete
After their meeting with the commissioner, Shane and Ilya finally get their first proper date. It might not be what they wanted their first date to be like, but fuck it. They were out and they might as well make the best of it.
Check Please!
And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, inersion of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.
Parswoops - Rated G - 10k - Complete
A collections of 100 drabbles. Kent “Parse” Parson and Jeff “Swoops” Troy. Though they only appear together once in an extra, they are more that two underdeveloped characters on screen?
Kent Can Do It With a Broken Heart
Past Kent/Jack - Rated T - 9.7k - Complete
Kent knows what they're all thinking: He's having the time of his life. But he's not, how could he? Kent's alone in Vegas with the knowledge that the love of his life is alive but doesn't want anything to do with him anymore.
How will Kent survive his first year in the NHL with a broken heart?
Spoiler alert: He cries a lot but he's so productive, it's an art. Cause he knows he's good when he can even do it with a broken heart.
5 Times Kent Parson’s Ass Looked Fantastic
Parswoops - Rated E - 9.7k - Complete
When you’re surrounded by professional athletes all the time, odds are you’re gonna find an ass that looks fantastic. Unfortunately for Jeff Troy, the only ass he finds fantastic is Kent Parson’s. It’s fine when they play on different teams and don’t know each other. It’s another issue when you’re line mates and best friends.
You Didn’t Ask The Question
Parswoops - Rated G - 6.7k - Complete
Kent and Jeff had both been through this before. One more goal and they would have forced a Game 7. Losing in the Conference Finals wasn’t the same as losing the Cup, but they were so close. No matter when you lose in the playoffs it hurts.
But Kent had Jeff. And Jeff had Kent. And that's all that mattered.
How is he?
Parswoops - Rated T - 3.6k - Complete
They had their fair share of incidents on the ice. Bad checks over the years, finding themselves at the bottom of scrums, crashing into the net, mainly Kent since he annoys the shit out of goalies by being in their space.
As always, on-ice incidents happened out of nowhere. Things are quick to develop on the ice. Simply the wrong place at the wrong time.
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You’d think that once you finally get long term access to a cat and your yearning to have cat access is fulfilled that you’d become slightly less obsessed with seeing people’s cats but no if anything it gets worse
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I think Ilya deserves to spend multiple afternoons wrapped in a blanket, curled up half on Shane’s lap, snuggled into his chest, with one of Shane’s arms wrapped around his waist and the other hand nestled in his curls, gently scratching at his head in a way that lulls him to a sweet doze, secure in the knowledge that he is beloved and safe
i’m going to be really honest with you guys i think the tendency to read the absolute worst possible intentions into every action you don’t agree with is getting too automatic and it’s eating you from the inside out
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manager today asked if i’d face paint for an event my work is hosting and she said “you can face paint, right? we all just assumed you could face paint” which is a fun assessment of my character
I do think that Shane gets a Russian language tutor. He sees that Ilya is always having to think, speak, and translate in his second language. And he knows that Ilya is fluent by this point, but if he's serious about forever with Ilya (which he is) he wants Ilya to be able to communicate with his boyfriend in his native language. He also saw how much his grandparents struggled with learning English as adults and how much more expressive and talkative they were when they spoke Japanese at home together.
So he gets a tutor. He meticulously researches her (she's from Moscow, so he'll learn from someone with Ilya's same accent). She's signed to more NDAs than he can count. She has 10 years of experience, she's certified to teach English and Russian, and she has 4.8 stars on MyTutor.
Shane pays her a frankly concerning amount of money to make house calls. Twice weekly, unless he's on the road, she arrives at his apartment to teach him foundational Russian. She gives him workbooks, Russia cartoon recommendation, podcasts for beginners, etc. He tells her he's learning because his boyfriend is Russian and she outlines a course that focuses on domestic language first (as opposed to travel or business). She even teaches him what she calls a 'culture course' with lessons on Russian music, food, and various traditions.
She's only a few years older than Shane and he actually finds himself looking forward to her visits. At this point, she's the only person other than his parents that knows he has a boyfriend.
About 4 months in, Shane finally feels comfortable enough to ask about what he'd been very excited about learning.
"You want me to teach you how to talk dirty to your boyfriend?" Ekaterina raised an eyebrow.
"Um," Shane blushed. Was this a little too far? Was this inappropriate to ask of a tutor? "Yes? If - If that's okay, I mean."
A slow smirk spread over her face. "This will be fun. Fun for me, now. Fun for you, later."
"I made a list," Shane admitted. He wasn't going to back out now, he put a lot of thought into his list. He turned to it in his Russian notebook and handed it to her.
She scanned over it indifferently. "You will use all this in one night?"
"Yeah, probably. Is it too much?"
"It is good you have a Russian man," Ekaterina said. "They have good stamina. Mostly, anyway."
And while it was a little embarrassing for Ekaterina to correct his pronunciation of please let me suck your cock, it helped that she seemed just as comfortable with that as there is tea on the stove.
Though, maybe he shouldn't have learned those phrases at the same time, because Ilya will never, for as long as they live, allow him to forget asking, while down on his knees and with excellent pronunciation, please let me suck your tea.
for one reason or another his place doesn’t have central air so she blithely suggests he stay for the weekend (or for however long it takes for the weather to break which could be goodness knows how long) and he’s standing in her doorway with his little duffel bag, weight shifting from one foot to the other, suddenly scared as shit that she’s going to get sick of him that she’s going to realize what a stupid brute he is and all he’s going to do is track metaphorical mud into her cool, clean, uncluttered space but her kitchen is a blessed 72 degrees and he chugs a glass of ice water at her sink and she looks so good in her breezy blouse and linen pants he’d kind of like to just ask her to bed, stay there all weekend long but he’s trying to be on his best behavior so they walk to the farmers’ market and he sneaks away to buy her a bouquet of flowers which only wilt a little by the time they get them home.
and they go to the movies as much for the cool shade of the theatre as the film itself and connie’s trailing her fingertips up and down his forearm and letting her hand rest on the swell of his thigh where his shorts end and he should have worn jeans he’s so hard he’s gonna lose his fucking mind but he’s being *good* and afterward they go for an early drink somewhere and all it takes is the tip of her sandaled foot pressed to the arch of his own for him to stand up and excuse himself to the bathroom to splash water in his face and give himself a talking-to in the mirror you’re not an animal jesus christ get it together you are a *gentleman* and they get back home and connie suggests they spend some time at the rooftop pool of her apartment complex and by now huddy’s white-knuckling it but he agrees and he endures the sight of her in her swimsuit and dutifully sprays sunscreen across her back and she suns herself while he stays mostly in the water, seriously thinking about drowning himself and then when she decides she’s ready to go back he follows her and the cold air in her apartment hits him like a slap in the face and she got a little red in the shoulders and in the apples of her cheeks and he cant take it any more he just can’t and he falls to his knees on her living room rug and eats her out on the couch the end 😇
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