twunkjimin



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    It’s strange. He went down hard, but nothing hurts. That might be very bad, if he can’t feel anything at all. But it’s not that. He can feel things, but they just don’t feel right. Maybe they already have him up on the stretcher, because he’s lying on something soft, not the cold ice he’d crumpled onto when he fell. He’s never felt a stretcher quite like this before, though.

    “Ilya!”

    There it is again. But now it’s louder. Almost unmistakably Shane.

    Blinking against sunlight, Ilya opens his eyes, and stares up at the brilliant blue sky.

    --

    After a bad hit during a game in 2016, Ilya wakes up at Shane Hollander's cottage in 2023. Finding out he has a dog, plays for Ottawa, and is married to Shane in quick succession, confronting the existence of time travel becomes the least of his worries.

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    04 Jul 2026

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    Ilya was good at noticing things about people, and he was good at understanding them. Shane was not. That was okay. Shane had developed his own way of getting to know Ilya. It involved a lot of inane questions and, more importantly, no longer involved condoms.

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    01 Jul 2026

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    “Ilya, what are we gonna do?” Shane says.

    Ilya finishes whatever he has been doing on his phone, and tosses it gently to the bed beside him. He crosses the room to Shane, stands in front of him, squeezes into his shoulders with his big hands, rubbing them like he means to warm them up.

    “Looks like we will have a little vacation,” he says, with a big obnoxious grin.

     


     

    Boston and Montreal are sent to Paris to play against each other in an exhibition series in January 2017. Ilya and Shane decide to stay in Paris for one more night. Just one more night, so they can talk. Maybe finally understand each other.

    They aren't expecting a volcano to erupt in Iceland and close all the airspace in Europe, leaving them stranded there. Together.

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    29 Jun 2026

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    Ilya makes love to Shane, it's the dirtiest thing they have ever done.

    * * * *

    “What? Hmm? I can’t hear you, hiding so far from me” Ilya whispers, kisses the shell of Shane’s ear and Shane’s brow furrows, he fidgets where he’s pinned to the sheets, squirms and thunder rumbles a dark sky wide crash over them again and Shane pulls his face back just a breath.

    “You know” Shane complains, and rolls his hips as much as he can a tiny tilt that shifts him just the smallest bit on Ilya’s cock, a tease of the real fucking thing.

    It's an imitation of the stretch that knocks his mind clean out, the relentless fucks of his hips that shakes Shane from the inside, that is everythingeverythingeverything the middle of the universe where he and Ilya do this, where they make themselves one pretty brilliant thing.

    “I want to hear it” Ilya’s hand slips free of Shane’s hair and finds his hip, pushes down to hold him still and gives a nudge of his cock. Enough to make Shane’s breath stutter.

    “Tell me” another waved thrust that makes a sound punch out of Shane’s throat.

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    24 Jun 2026

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    Shane finds himself nodding, says “I know” before he can think further about it because Shane has never been good at reading people, and he wonders in that moment if Ilya is afflicted the same by this, the way they fuck.

    Afflicted by the questions that they never let out-

    How the fuck does it feel this fucking good?

    How does it feel this fucking good every time?

    Why is it you who does this to me?

    The worst one of all, Shane thinks, this is why I can’t stop doing it. It’s too fucking good.

    ***

    Somewhere in 2014-16, one of the times they fuck that we didn't see in the montage.

    (Alternatively titled: Athletes having athletic sex, someones got to get a leg cramp at some point)

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    23 Jun 2026