labryinthine



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    Da, Hollander,” Ilya says. “Suck your Canadian husband’s dick.”

    Shane laughs once, almost soundless. “Shut up.”

    Ilya does. He’s made the mistake one too many times of thinking control is possible here.

    Taking Ilya in his hand, Shane watches a clear bead of precome already leaking like sweat on overripe fruit left too long in the sun; like a tear from the eye of a god roused in the body of this beautiful Russian-Canadian man who swims lakes and fucks under stars and is going to compete with Shane and not against him in the Olympics; who now lies back in anticipation, chest rising and falling in uneven waves as though love itself has unhinged his ribs.

    -

    A slow morning at the cottage. Shane and Ilya are horny and in love. Married life is good.

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    19 Mar 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    “Don’t–” Ilya starts, already reaching, already cupping Shane’s face between both hands, thumbs warm and tender against his cheekbones like they’ve always belonged there.

    Shane’s eyes are big and gorgeous and genuinely curious. “Don’t what?”

    Don’t make me look like a lovesick idiot. Don’t make my heart trip over itself for a way out of my chest and into yours. Don’t say it like that—so fucking sincere—like you don’t know how devastating it is for me.

    “Don’t butcher my language,” he says instead and kisses Shane’s smile hard, like reflex, like gravity, like there was never going to be another option.

    -

    Shane sets out to learn Russian. Ilya discovers he's incapable of keeping his composure.

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    19 Mar 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    It happens in an instant.

    Over Ilya’s shoulder, Shane sees the doctor and Wiebe give each other a look, and in a sudden bout of impatient anxiety, Shane ends up saying the words that come to ruin everything.

    “Don’t touch me.”

    The effect is instantaneous. Ilya’s hands fly to his sides, and Shane gets a front row seat as Ilya’s heart breaks before his very eyes. Eyes dimming and lips trembling in slow, painful technicolor.

    It causes Shane’s heart to break, too, and he vows, immediately, never to see such a look cross his husband’s face again.

    OR Shane embarks on a mission to heal his husband’s heart, one PDA at a time.

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    18 Mar 2026

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    “Fuck you Rozanov.”

    He smirks. Even in the dark, Shane can feel it. The way his mouth quirks up and his eyes widen. “If you ask nicely.”

    or

    shane hollander and ilya rozanov are roommates in college who hate each other. until they don’t.

    ft. reddit, letterboxd, RA scott hunter, tuna melts and late nights.

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    1/1
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    17 Mar 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    god these idiots i love em

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    The knee-jerk response, obviously, is a big, fat no fucking way.

    “Dude, c’mon,” Hayden says, slapping his arm. “It’s a rite of passage. You can’t break tradition or you’ll risk a bloodline curse.”

    Shane goggles at his best friend. “You think that I, as a gay, Asian, autistic man, have concerns about following antiquated rites of passage? Or bloodline curses?”

    “I think that you, as someone who has had the same warm-up routine and pregame rituals since they could sing their ABCs, would understand the value in following the rules.”

    Ilya, obviously, says yes. He only lets the WAGs ask first because it’s proper etiquette and he would never do anything to disrespect his posse.

     

    Or, before their wedding, the boys are morally and legally obligated to allow their friends to throw them a bachelor and bachelorette party, which are very different in nature but equally chaotic

    Series
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    13 Mar 2026