Trelane83



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  1. Rec *

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    Shane’s brain cycled rapidly through a half-dozen celebrities, porn actors, Grindr profiles, every attractive bartender who’d ever served him a beer, trying to find a comparison for this level of outrageously concentrated beauty in one person, but he was drawing a blank.

    The man—Ilya Rozanov, Facilities Attendant, his badge read—gestured around the supply closet. “I help you find something?”

    --
    Canon-divergent AU set during the 2017-18 MLH season. Shane Hollander doesn’t have a single Cup to his name when he meets a very hot and very annoying janitor who works at the Metros stadium.

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  2. Rec *

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    Sometimes life came at you with a clenched fist and Ilya had never figured out how to duck.

    So here he was, twenty-eight years old, single, dealing with the fallout from injuries given to him by the game he loved, and the second youngest assistant coach in the league to one of the worst teams. Stability was hard to come by, but he was managing.

    Then along came Shane Hollander to knock him on his ass, one more time.

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  3. Rec *

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    After leaving behind his last job, Ilya threw himself into a new profession: making and selling all things one can pickle. His week revolved around the Sunday farmer's market. Everything seemed simple and predictable until a new vendor arrived late in the season.

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  4. Rec *

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    The knock at his door comes about five minutes after Shane gets home, three minutes after Shane pees on the stupid sticks, one minute after Shane looks at the fucking pink plus signs, and about thirty seconds after tears spring to his eyes.

    Shane Hollander, professional hockey player and captain of the Montreal Metros, has a bun in the fucking oven.

    Or Shane and Ilya's enemies-with-benefits arrangement has some unintended consequences.

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  5. Rec *

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    Shane swipes out of a few notifications from the ESPN app, all clickbait about Scott Hunter’s speech at the NHL awards. He can’t deal with those right now, his brain is not online. Then he sees the Snapchat notification, from Ilya.

    Shane puts his phone down and blinks a few times. He picks it up and checks the display again. The notification is still there.

    He hasn’t gotten a Snap from Ilya since the end of the season back in April, after they crashed out of the Frozen Four without making it to the final. Shane saw him a few times after that, at team meetings and at the annual sports awards dinner, but he’s pretty sure Ilya left campus before the end of the semester. Shane wasn’t expecting anything from him until the fall, when he’s back at school.

    He rubs his eyes and rolls onto his side, swiping the app open. It’s a video.

    or, the boys are in college, featuring self discovery, russian diminutives, and (to ilya's chagrin) the scott hunter of it all.

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