halcyonrising
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Summary
David Hollander tries to reassure his son's boyfriend and ends up being the one comforted instead.
Or,
My take on that David and Ilya conversation.Series
- Part 3 of Heated Rivalry Oneshots
Bookmarked by halcyonrising
18 Jul 2026
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“I’m sorry if I—” Shane starts the sentence, and then is horrified to find he must finish it. He swallows, waiting, and Rozanov tilts his head, his body leaning in just slightly like he’s debating taking a step closer. “—fucked everything up,” he finishes. “I’m not good when things change, I’m, I feel like an asshole for running off like that.”
Rozanov blinks at him. This time, Shane is pretty sure he’s guessing right when he thinks the expression on his face is one of surprise. “You are apologizing.”
“I think maybe I hurt you?” Shane offers, awkward. “I didn’t want to do that. So yeah. I am sorry.”
Rozanov looks away. The light is dim, but Shane can still see the bunch of muscle at his jaw, a tic of the skin stretched over it as he grinds his teeth. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does!” Shane says. He says it too loud, and they look at each other, frozen in the moment before something. Shane doesn’t know what the something is. “I’m just sorry, okay? I’m a mess, you don’t— you don’t know how bad it is. I never know what the fuck I’m doing.”
Series
- Part 2 of all the things (they) said
Bookmarked by halcyonrising
10 Jul 2026
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He watches Hollander’s eyes track over the laundry detergent sitting on a shelf, the amount in the hamper and back to the machine, and it’s as obvious as if he’s got a little thought bubble actually hovering above his head— “you want to start a load of laundry,” he says, snickering a little.
“It’s just— we’re on the road again in two days, and all my normal stuff is dirty,” Shane says, reaching for the hamper and sifting through to grab only the lighter colors.
“Okay,” Ilya says. He’s still hard, and he presses a hand to the bulge under his pants, ostentatious, a blatant display as Hollander turns to look at him. “You do your household chore in middle of sexy hookup. I will go get naked and lie in your bed, and if you can tear yourself away, maybe you get there in time for me to get inside you before I come.”
Hollander’s eyes darken, flickering down to Ilya’s hand pressed against his groin. “Uh. Give me like. Thirty seconds. A minute.”
And, indeed, it can’t be longer than a minute later that Hollander is naked and climbing on top of Ilya on the bed, the low rumble of the washing machine providing a soundtrack to their embrace.
Bookmarked by halcyonrising
07 Jul 2026
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“I am serious, though, you are safe, yes? Drunk at hotel, sitting on balcony, crying over Montreal’s terrible loss?”
It makes sense that Ilya’s mind would go there first. Shane said he was outside. Based on past behavior, the hotel balcony is probably the only place Ilya would expect him to be. He feels a little giddy that he gets to shock him for once.
“I’m at a club, actually.” He has to bite back a self-satisfied smile as he speaks, “With the team. Safe.”
It's quiet for a few moments before Ilya deadpans,
“Very funny joke.”
(or: three days after the breakup with rose, shane gets drunk in boston. it spirals out from there.)
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Bookmarked by halcyonrising
21 Jun 2026
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A rather large heron waded in the water, its backside mottled in tiger-stripes, tapering at a black head. The bird’s beak struck the water with natural, violent efficiency, its yolk-yellow throat elongated as it gobbled down minnows.
The ladies whispered amongst themselves, scrambling for their iPhones stuffed inside their pockets. Shane, meanwhile, had gone to stand behind the cover of a leafy green plant, positioned perfectly so as not to spook the bird, with a perfect window for a gorgeous photograph.
“That’s a good camera,” the guide commented, watching Shane with the admiring eye of a fellow birder.
Ilya was preening. A preening fucking peacock. He didn’t care if the metaphor was cheesy; he felt like one. He felt like one of those crazy-looking birds from the documentaries Shane liked to watch, birds-of-paradise, with ruffled rumps, faces like parade masks, prostrating themselves in the treetops for love.
(Or, Ilya takes his birding husband on a birding honeymoon.)
Series
- Part 2 of Hollanov Birding AU
Bookmarked by halcyonrising
05 Jun 2026