telepathyjimin



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    “I need to sleep,” Ilya murmurs next to him on the bed, his voice distant.

    “Yeah, me too,” Shane rushes to agree. His fingers drum against his glass of vodka and he chugs the rest in one go. “I should, uh…” He moves to stand up off the bed, the soiled towel dropping from his stomach, and his knees buckle.

    Shane stumbles but remains upright, his vision blurry. But the glass in his hands slips from his trembling fingers, and, to his absolute horror, shatters all across the floor of Ilya’s penthouse suite.

    ----

    After the hookup where Shane and Ilya didn’t kiss, Shane nearly passes out in his rival’s hotel room.

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    02 Jun 2026

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    “I’m sorry, but my answer is no. Someone else might be willing to switch if you ask.”

    “I can’t believe—this is unacceptable! I’m going to call the flight attendant over and get this sorted out right now!”

    Flustered and cornered, Shane injects his Captain Voice into the conversation. “Ma’am, I understand that you’re upset, but I paid for this seat and am going to stay here. You’ll have to find someone else willing to change places or just fly with the seat you booked. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.”

    She hisses like a goddamn tea kettle, and starts to say, “You are the most selfish man I’ve ever—” when another voice behind her says, “You are blocking my seat. Move.”

    Shane and the woman turn to assess the new arrival. It turns out that his seat partner is well above six feet tall, ripped as hell, and knows how to deliver an excellent bitch face. He’s also the hottest man that Shane has ever seen in real life, including a chance run-in with Jensen Ackles at a Stars game.

    Or, still!famous Shane meets non!famous Ilya on a cursed flight from Ottawa to Boston and kind of (totally) falls in love with him at first sight (and first chirp)

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    24 May 2026

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    Shane’s eyes snap open. Wait a second.

    “Ilya,” Shane says, propping himself up on his elbows. “Ilya, wake up.”

    Ilya makes a pained noise, eyes still shut. “I shut curtains already.”

    “It’s not that. Ilya, hey. Don’t go back to sleep.” Ilya tries to bury back into Shane’s chest, but adrenaline knifes through Shane’s hangover long enough for him to peel Ilya off and roll him into his back. Ilya blinks blearily up at him, starfished in the sheets. Beautiful and naked and missing his mother’s cross.

     

    OR: When Ilya’s cross goes missing after the Centaurs celebrate their first Stanley Cup win, Shane is determined to get it back. And so are the Centaurs. And the rest of Ottawa.

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    23 May 2026

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    “Maybe—maybe Lily is sleeping,” she says. Bargaining, she realizes numbly. She’s bargaining for more time. And for whatever is unfolding here to stop unfolding and in fact fold itself back up. Her thumb shifts away from the call button. “And you should be sleeping too, mister.”

    “He’s not sleeping.” Shane flares his nostrils—another gesture Yuna hasn’t seen in so many years. “He’s waiting for me to call a third time. Mom. Please. He’s—he’ll be so worried.”

    Yuna shifts her thumb and lets it drop. Is Yuna a bad mother if she hopes "Lily" doesn’t pick up?

    -x-

    or: Shane needs to call someone the night he's laid out by Marlow, and Yuna reflects on her quietly, obsessively devoted son.

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    23 May 2026

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    Harris, who was sitting next to Shane, nudged him with his foot. “Yeah, I mean, it’s not kinky kinky unless Shane went out and bought, like, a full-on sex swing or something crazy like–”

    Harris stopped talking because Shane had frozen. Completely frozen. His glass halted halfway to his lips. His eyes went wide and fixed on a point on the far wall. The blush that had been a soft pink bloomed into a scarlet tide that crept from his neckline to the roots of his hair.

    Ilya, watching him, threw his head back and burst out laughing.

    (or, 5 times Ottawa Centaurs found out their sweet Canadian cinnamonroll is a freak and 1 time they realized that Hollanov's freaks are matched)

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    23 May 2026