Saint_Oridaea



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    Fuck,” Rozanov swore, quietly. He sounded like he’d just been slammed against the boards — wounded and winded in a way Shane thought, privately, he had no right to feel. “What are you going to do?

    “Well I can’t fucking keep it,” Shane said, voice shrill. “What the fuck am I going to tell my team? Oh, sorry guys, I have to bow out of this season halfway. Oh, you know, nothing super serious, it’s just that Rozanov — yeah, you know that guy, captain of our franchise fucking rivals? — he fucking knocked me up!

    Two babies Shane and Ilya never have, and the daughter they do.

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    13 Jan 2026

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    Shane doesn’t say he’s overwhelmed.
    He never does.
    He shows up instead—later than planned, jaw tight, movements clipped like every second is being audited. His bag lands by the door with more force than necessary. He stands there for a moment too long, as if waiting for instructions he hasn’t been given.
    Ilya clocks it immediately.
    “Hey,” he says gently, already closing the distance. “Come here.”
    Shane shakes his head once, sharp. “Just—give me a minute.”
    Ilya gives him thirty seconds.
    Then he takes Shane’s wrist—not tight, not demanding—and guides him further into the apartment. “Shoes off,” he says, voice calm, certain. “Jacket too.”

    or

    Ilya takes care of an overwhelmed and overstimulated Shane by letting him float away into subspace for a bit.

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    13 Jan 2026

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    Ilya glances at Shane, at the way the dying light is catching in his hair, refracting. At that spiderlily mouth, slightly open and curling coyly, two teeth peeked through the dark gap like an American Girl doll. At that shoulder, bare and pale and close enough to touch if Ilya just leaned forward, if he just reached out and took another liberty.

    To touch another person is to say: I know you will die, and I am doing this anyway.

    His mother used to say something like this. About painting.

    Every portrait is an act of faith, Ilyushenka. Faith and futility both.

    contrary to personal preference, ilya gets a roommate.

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    13 Jan 2026

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    “I know how you meant,” Ilya said. “But no, would not be my life.”
    “It wouldn’t? Because…” Us? Shane couldn’t work up the courage to finish.
    Ilya understood where his mind was anyway, like he always did. “No. Because of me.”
    Shane stared at him. “What do you mean?”
    Ilya shrugged. “Is not… Is not smart for me. Bad genes.”
    “What do you mean?” Shane said again.

    ~

    Ilya's first evening at Shane's cottage. They start to learn to talk to each other.

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    13 Jan 2026

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    “WHAT?!”

    “Holy shit!”

    “Rozanov’s engaged?!”

    ***

    what if the team did actually pay a little bit more attention and noticed ilyas ring...

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    13 Jan 2026