Musicalgrainsofsand



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    Rozanov’s smile was all teeth. “Ah, yes. Is gift.”

    Something tripped in Shane’s chest at the idea. Sure, they’d been hooking up for nearly half a decade by this point, but four frantic trysts a year did not a relationship make. Certainly not a relationship which included gifts.

    “Oh. I mean– thank you.” The sincerity felt strange on his tongue, but Yuna and David Hollander raised Shane with goddamn manners, and if somebody gave you a gift you said fucking thank you.

    Even if that someone was Ilya Rozanov. Even if he was looking at you with a Cheshire Cat smile that made you think you’d seriously missed an important piece of context.


    Or: Five times Ilya and Shane got each other gifts that absolutely, categorically, 100% didn't mean anything, and one time they gave up pretending.

    Language:
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    16 May 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    Rozanov is looking at him intensely, mouth pursed in a smirk, eyes alight. “You eat dinner?”

    “What?”

    “Dinner,” Rozanov says, “Is meal you eat in evening. You have it?”

    “You’re asking me if I eat dinner?”

    Rozanov tilts his head. “My English is not so bad, I think.”

    “No, it isn’t,” Shane says, although he’s still confused by Rozanov’s question. After a beat, where all he can focus on is Rozanov’s thick eyebrows, Shane confirms: “Yes, of course I eat dinner.”

    “Good. Me too.” Rozanov is still smirking. Shane’s starting to think it might be his default expression. “We have that in common: playing hockey and eating dinner.”

    Or: five times Ilya Rozanov tried to ask out Shane Hollander, and the one time he succeeded.

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    13 May 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    Ilya buys Shane a pair of thigh high frilly socks as a joke.

    Shane wears them.

    Everything else that happens is entirely Ilya’s fault.

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    11 May 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    Two years of playing together, and it still hit him every time. The casualness of it. My husband. Said out loud, in public. After years of hiding—stolen moments in hotel rooms, careful distance in public, the constant exhausting performance of just teammates, just rivals, nothing to see here—now Ilya could say it like it was nothing. Like it was easy, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

    Because it was. Finally.

    In which Ilya Hollander-Rozanov cannot shut up about his husband. (Subtitled: No one asked, Ilya. Ilya. No one asked.)

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    11 May 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    “I…I’m not like a girl or want to be or anything…” Shane stammers awkwardly. Ilya nods, his eyes never leaving Shane’s face, “I did not think you wanted to be.” Shane wracks his brain to try and come up with some explanation, but he barely understands it himself. “May I?” Ilya asks softly, stepping closer to Shane, who agrees with a slight nod.

    “Here is what I think,”

     

    alternatively,
    Shane Hollander wears a dress. Ilya Rozanov goes a little feral about it.

    Language:
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    10 May 2026