“believe me, she’s not looking for a repeat performance.”

unable to sleep, rose has plenty of time to think after that night at the club. | 2151w | now on ao3

rose stares at the ceiling. the champagne from earlier in the night has left her mouth dry and her temples fuzzy. there’s water on the bedside, put there by shane before he kissed her shoulder and turned onto his side with the covers pulled up to his ear. drinking the water would mean moving, and moving would mean alerting the man lying next to her that she is awake, and if she alerts him to fact she is awake then he will feel obligated to turn back around and pretend like he hasn’t spent the last three hours faking sleep. she can tell. he’s too still, like a rabbit caught in a trap. so, rose stares at the ceiling.

there’s a cobweb dangling from the lampshade. one lone thread, thick with dust, sways back and forth as if the room itself is breathing in tandem with them. she hasn’t taken a full breath since the light clicked off. her chest aches.

that’s all it is, she thinks, this constricting feeling. one deep breath, rosie, and you’ll feel all better.

she closes her eyes and draws in a long, quiet breath through her nose but all it does is gather prickly heat under her eyes and wall up her throat. she swallows back the tears.

she can still feel all the places he touched her, careful and controlled, and the weight of him bearing down on top of her even as he held himself up politely by the elbows. the hollowed out, used, feeling between her legs stretches to her stomach where it churns against champagne and the three bites of sushi she had before going out to the club.

the night had gone well. right up until it hadn’t.

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solnyshko - hollanov - @hollanovmicrofic - word count: 304 - click here to see my microfic archive!

“I looked it up, you know,” Shane offers one morning as they sit in the kitchen of the cottage, both sipping on stemming mugs of coffee and gazing out the windows to the stunning view beyond. “In Russian.”

Ilya’s suddenly transported back to a different conversation–this one in Florida, about the word ‘compatible.’ “Looked what up?” he asks, feeling suddenly tense. He’s said a lot in Russian over the years that he probably shouldn’t have–emotions he’d tried desperately to quell and secrets he’d really wanted to hide. Yes, they’ve agreed to be honest now but that doesn’t mean he has to approach Shane with his beating heart on a silver platter.

But Shane just glances over to him for a half a second, his watery, dark, knowing eyes looking directly through Ilya like a goddamn x-ray. “Solnyshko.” 

Ilya’s heart flips. It’s a pet name he’s slipped into during the past few days, quite without his own consent. It’s just…Shane is his sunshine. The world is so much fucking brighter whenever he’s around, and there are no words to describe how good it feels to be able to look at him and smile without feeling like he’ll be eternally damned for it.

Still…

“Means ‘asshole,’” he grunts almost shyly, eyes on the lake outside, where he can see a loon floating menacingly. 

Shane’s chuckle makes something terrifyingly warm go molten in Ilya’s chest. “Yeah? That’s not what Google said.”

“Google is liar.”

“Google said my boyfriend’s secretly a romantic, I think,” Shane pushes, and Ilya can feel him staring.

So, brave as he can be, he makes eye contact. “Maybe,” he hedges, but he can’t stop his lips from curling upward at the edges.

Shane looks ridiculously pleased. “Good,” he murmurs, sipping his drink again.

Ilya’s never felt so in love in his entire life.

My Shane does not keep the Rookie of the Year trophy in the trophy room. He keeps that shit on the mantle in the living room. Is it gauche? Maybe. But it allows him to rub his husband's face in it way more often than if it was locked away with the rest of their accolades.

Ilya used to move it to the trophy room every time it migrated back to the mantle but they've now come to a stalemate where, right next to the trophy, there is a framed picture from their draft night; Ilya beaming, holding up one finger, while Shane has a pained smile that barely masks a grimace, reluctantly holding up two.

I love it when my cat puts all 20kg of her 4kg self into her front paws right over the sore muscle in my chest i didn’t know i had.

Tolerance (Heated Rivalry, Hollanov, 9.8k)

Rating: Explicit

Tags: The Long Game, Canon Engaged, As in I Am Engaged in a Battle with Canon, Racism, Homophobia, Surrealism, Disordered Eating, Mild Body Horror, Explicit Sexual Content, Angst with a Soft Finish

Author’s Note: This fic follows the trajectory of The Long Game and includes chunks of dialogue from the book for scenes set directly in the canon timeline. Inspirations and resources were numerous, and I'm happy to chat more about them in the comments, but a special shout out to Han Kang's The Vegetarian and Hudson Williams' Men's Health workout segment. Huge and abundant thanks also to @oathkeeperoxas and @sea-monster-sanctuary for their expert eyes on the draft: all remaining infelicities are my own. And thank you to everyone who takes the time to read!!! This one means a lot to me.

Summary:

On the day after he comes out to his team, Shane wakes up with a lump in his throat.

-----
Or, Shane Hollander x Catharsis

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Wyatt reading spider-man comics in his crease

Hollander quietly sipped his vodka while Ilya waited for the moment to crumble apart.

for as much as ilya says he doesn't get homesick, the first time he comes home from playing chess in the park with the group of older russian men he found on facebook, he does have to lie with his head in shane's lap for over an hour before calling his brother for the first time in 3 years.

he doesn’t expect alexei to answer, but he does and the line crackles with his silence. it grows until it prickles under ilya’s skin and he blurts, “do you remember the smell of the larches at sokolniki park in the summer?”

three years and a random question instead of a greeting. instead of an apology. instead of anything.

more silence and ilya supposes he deserves it. or, alexei thinks he does at least, and he’s not sure why he bothered to pick up the phone in the first place.

“i remember deda dima telling us not to climb them in case we got sap on our clothes,” alexei says eventually, and his voice is still heavy with exhaustion.

“i didn’t know if it was real or … or if it was something i made up.”

“… it was real.”

ilya saying shane's name post frotting orgasm

shane:

Wh-what do you mean it’s from a birthday cake

We could have been eating him

Heated Rivalry
1.02 | Olympians

As much as I love fanon Marlow/Marleau, Ilya already has not one, but two friends like him in the Long Game: Bood and Wyatt.

Wyatt is already an ally (who also happens to have a lesbian sister) and Bood is the supporting alternate captain Ilya always deserved. In the book, when Shane and Ilya are outed, both Wyatt and Bood show unconditional support to Ilya.

Post-outing and post- honeymoon pre-season Hollanov step out and are photographed for the first time in Ottawa featuring Shane— white t-shirt pre-season muscles bulging gray sweatpants dick outline healthy yes he's wearing his reeboks Mom and Ilya— decked out in TIGht Adidas track pants with the snaps black tank top clinging to that waist with Anya on a bedazzled leash— YES they're holding hands rings glinting in the golden hour YES they have their dog at this outside restaurant seating YES they're going to win this season YES Shane will have dessert and will give the first bite to his husband YES they're dropping a black card in the bill YES they're kissing each other's hands at the table and in a way it's kind of like Diana in her revenge dress except their best revenge is just living their best fucking life TOGETHER

ilyas big fat crush on yuna let's talk about it

have 2 believe that ilya hanging out at her house all the time leads to at least a few times where shes in a robe and straight out of the shower w wet hair and her face is a little pink and damp from the steam and she beelines for the couch bc she CANNOT miss shane's face off and ilya is sitting there wrapped in three blankets with a pint of cookies n cream trying to not look at her directly and Yuna is literally smelling soooooo good and Ilya is texting Shane furiously WHERE IS YOUR DAD?? and Shane's like "I'm about to blow up Scott Hunter's walker and this is what ur texting me?? Ugh" and then ilya swipes to his thread with svetlana and says "as a belated half birthday present to you I will tell you one true thing about jane" and sveta immediately responds "ok yay let me think" and Ilya says "no this is not a fucking q&a session I am telling you his mom is so hot and I am alone with her and I am panicking" and sveta says "ILYUSHA!!!!!!!!! PICK UP PICK UP PICK UP" and Ilya blocks her for the evening