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  1. Public Bookmark 75

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    Rozanov wags the wrinkled boxers in front of Shane’s face.

    “Bad,” he scolds. “Bad behavior. Cannot have people thinking I let you act like this.”

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    11 Mar 2026

  2. Public Bookmark 75

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    He buries his fingers in Ilya's curls as their kiss grows deeper, needier, and tugs. That's the first time he ever hears it, a low and breathless sound that forces itself out of Ilya's throat and into Shane's mouth, pushes its way past his teeth and climbs down his throat until it can wrap itself around the air in his lungs, remaining an echo under every desperate hitch of his breath. All he can think is again, again, again. There are goosebumps all over Ilya's skin, and something hazy glosses over his eyes, and then Shane is dropping to his knees on pure instinct.

    Shane loves pulling Ilya's hair. Ilya loves having his hair pulled.

    Language:
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    06 Jan 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    “So,” Ilya says, dragging the word out. He’s swiping at non-existent crumbs on the counter, avoiding his eyes. “You have dinner at parents on Christmas, yes?” 

    “Yeah.” 

    Ilya nods. “I can house-sit while you are away. Make place pretty, if you have decorations. Make it less boring.” 

    Shane’s eyebrows fly up. “What? You don’t want to come with?” 

    Finally, Ilya looks up at him. Hesitantly, he asks, “You want me to come with?” 

    Frowning, Shane says, “I– yeah. Yeah, of course. You think I invited you here just so you could spend Christmas alone?” 

    Looking away, Ilya shrugs. “I am intruder here, Hollander. You have family. I do not. Makes situation… difficult, maybe. You forget the world thinks we are rivals.” 

    “Not difficult,” Shane says immediately. “You want to come, you’re coming.” 

    Or: Ilya's in Montreal alone during the week leading up to the Winter Classic. Shane doesn't let him spend Christmas alone.

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    02 Jan 2026