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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    “You look terrible,” Shane says bluntly when he greets Ilya at the stairwell. “Are you hurting?”

    Ilya shrugs. He is hurting, actually. The adrenaline from the win wore off somewhere between his texts with Shane and the medic’s second consult. His face feels swollen and it hurts to speak when he says, “I am not wilting daisy, Hollander. I can handle getting hit at hockey game.”

    “Well, I’m glad you’re okay.”

    A strange pang hits Ilya’s chest then, unassuming and small. Ilya chooses to think nothing of it.

    ////

    Or Ilya Rozanov on pain, love, and family throughout the years.

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    16 Jun 2026

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    "They always insist on going down on me and I have to pretend like they’re The One who’s finally good at it. But no one’s good at it. It’s just something that doesn’t feel good.”

    Wade’s eye twitches.

    Peter glares at him. “Say it.”

    “I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist that they’re all bad at it, baby boy.”

    Or: Peter has never had a good experience getting head. Wade swears he can change his mind.

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    15 Jun 2026

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    “So. That’s it? Those are the rules?” Hayden asked. “Don’t go through your texts or photos, keep up with your workouts and diet, and listen to everything Yuna says, without question.”

    Shane seemed to be thinking about it, pausing a second. All of a sudden, he looked up at Hayden, again with that intense anxiety face.

    “And most importantly, do not talk to Ilya Rozanov. Ever. No matter what.” Shane said, “Avoid him. Don’t even look at him. OK?”

    Hayden nodded, and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Like he even needed to be told that. Besides, Shane had been avoiding Ilya Rozanov for his entire career. How hard could it be?

    OR a well-meaning witch bodyswaps Shane and Hayden (to teach them about the power of friendship) the day before the 2017 All Stars Game.

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    15 Jun 2026

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    The first sound Ilya hears is a thin, discordant symphony of beeps and whirs. Something vibrating. 

    The next thing he hears is…wet. A sort of shaking, gargling sound, that feels like the ugliest crying he’s ever heard. And through it, Shane’s voice. 

    “I’m with him now, mom. He’s— he’s not fine. He’s not. I know—”

    Ilya wants to ask who's not fine, but he can’t feel his own body, his mouth, enough to ask.

    “Yeah,” Shane is saying, only slightly calmer. “I know. He wasn’t breathing—"

    Ilya knows there's a link, between the clinical musicality of medical settings, Shane’s audible, awful distress, and his own physical incapacity. It’s just, it’s so tenuous, and the air around him is so thick, so heavy. It would be easy, to sleep, a little. 

    -
    Footage of the last game between Ottawa and Montreal is everywhere; it’s breached containment from the sports world, and now it seems like everyone is baying for Montreal’s blood. Except, Ilya is oblivious. Not exactly blissfully so, but as the fight for accountability within the league rages on without him, Ilya just wants someone, anyone, to tell him what happened.

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    14 Jun 2026

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    “I feel really good about this kid, I think he could be great on your wing, he just needs some help settling in. Someone to show him the ropes.”

    “Yes.”

    The line went silent for a moment. Ilya wasn’t really sure why his coach felt the need to run this by him.

    “Rozanov,” his coach said at last. “I want him to live with you.”

    Ilya blinked, then nearly shouted into the phone. “What?”

    * * *

    or, Ilya stays in Boston, gets a rookie, and tries to figure out how to make a secret long distance relationship work while there's a Russian teenager in his house

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    06 Jun 2026