jacksaidskate



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    Shane Hollander was doing fine. He was about to start his fourth year at Concordia University in Montreal, where he was now Captain of the Stingers, he had a solid group of friends who actually knew he was gay and were cool about it, and this time next year he would be playing for the Metros.

    He was doing great, really.

    Or he had been, until none other than Ilya Rozanov, the 28 year old KHL player who had recently disapeared from the world of hockey, became his professor and mentor.

    or: Coach Theriault inadvertently sets up professor-Ilya and student/hockey captain-Shane.

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    16 Jul 2026

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    “I am sorry,” he says. “I am not trying to fight. I just don’t like the idea of you not being okay and me not knowing, even when I am in the same place as you.”

    That Shane can understand. He wouldn’t like it if their positions were reversed, after all, if he thought Ilya was potentially in danger and he was in the next room over drinking champagne and making smalltalk. He sees Ilya go somewhere in his head sometimes, sees him retreat inwards, sees him check out even if his body is still there, going so deep inside that he doesn’t even catch Shane’s eye for a bit even when something funny happens, too far away for Shane to reach him.

    But it’s also not like he can just go up and grab Ilya by the arm and pull him away from the party, not without inviting speculation and a whisper storm. He doesn’t have that right, doesn’t have that privilege, to potentially need Ilya or be needed by Ilya and be able to just pull him away.

    It’s moments like these that Shane feels the weight of their secret like a physical thing.

    (5 times shane and ilya couldn't be openly together and 1 time they could)

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    10 Jul 2026

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    Finally, something dawns on him, a way to handle two goals simultaneously. He’d seen Hollander’s mother flipping through papers rapidly when they first got here, seeming calm and in control and more than a little frightening in a way that made Ilya mildly glad he wasn’t one of the people responsible for a clipboard. If anyone can tell him if the long list of “Prohibited Items” he’d been sent in his email a few days ago is just standard practice for big shoots, it would be Yuna Hollander.

    Or, hopefully, her son.

    “Crazy we cannot even have peanut butter, eh?” He asks. “You also got giant list?”

    Hollander stiffens, almost imperceptibly, and Ilya tilts his head, just slightly, confused, wondering if he’s stumbled somewhere unexpected.

    (how ilya learns about shane's allergies) (and shane's sexual awakening tragically hits a speedbump in the process 😔)

    (chapters can standalone but will be updated as inspiration strikes)

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    10 Jul 2026

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    Everybody thinks hockey players are stupid. Having an accent certainly doesn’t help.

    Ilya Rozanov never bothered correcting people, but it wasn’t his job to fit their expectations either.
    He wasn’t hiding it, it just wasn’t important, and he wasn’t the type to show off (oh, Shane would laugh at that, but for this specific aspect it was true).

    It just never came up. Until it did.

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    07 Jul 2026

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    “It’s okay. I don’t need anything.” 

    “I am not going to eat in front of you while you have nothing, Hollander,” Ilya scoffs. He plucks a can of cold ginger ale from the top shelf as casually as he can manage and slides it over the island, interrupting Hollander’s fidgeting thumbs. “You must be hungry, yes? It’s been hours since you left hotel. I can make something. Easy.” 

    “Make… what?” he asks warily.  

    Ilya rolls his eyes and tosses a look over his shoulder. “Do not worry. I will find something that works for your special hockey diet,” he teases. He reaches back into the fridge. “Tuna melt okay?” 

    “No,” Hollander says primly. “And it’s a disease. Not a diet.” 

    He pulls his hands out of the cold and turns, blinks. “What?” 

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    07 Jul 2026