nawsies



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    “Ah.”

    “‘Ah’,” Ilya repeats, giving him a look before he looks back to the tidily stacked frozen mouse packages in the freezer and makes a face as a little badly-hidden shudder moves through him. “Why the fuck do you have mice in your freezer, Shane? You are doing serial killer shit now? This is why you have cottage in the middle of nowhere? For serial killer things?”

    “It’s for Spaghetti,” Shane says.

    Ilya gives him an absolutely horrified look at that and turns a little green, which makes him remember that Spaghetti isn’t just his snake's name.

    “Not food!” He rushes to explain. “Not food spaghetti! Snake Spaghetti!”

    “What the fuck are you even saying right now,” Ilya says, looking honestly a little concerned that Shane might have something going wrong in his head.

    (Distancing himself from almost twenty years of owning a snake, Shane can indeed see why this situation might be a little alarming for someone on the outside looking in.)

    (It also clues him in to the fact that maybe it’s not just Spaghetti who should have gotten a little adjustment period.)

    (in which i give shane allergies AND a snake)

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    17 Jul 2026

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    Nobody moves for a moment as Shane stares the woman down, and he’s seconds away from sawing the damn thing off himself, when the woman nods to the men surrounding the hybrid. And then there’s a flurry of movement, a clicking sound and then the men stand back to reveal Ilya in his bare faced glory, unobstructed by the muzzle.

    Shane takes him in, inhaling softly at the sharp cheekbones, the moles dusted over his face, the pillowy lips that are set in a firm, displeased line. Shane wonders how big his fangs are. If he was a fighter, they must have been sharpened regularly.

    Shane doesn’t want to think about the damage this wall of a hybrid had inflicted on others, the damage he could inflict on Shane. The hybrid stares at him, expression hard to determine but the intensity of it has Shane holding back a shiver. He’s staring at Shane like he can see every thought inside of him, calculating. As if they were on opposing sides of a ring, ready for the bell to chime and for Ilya to go in for the kill.

    Shane gets roped into fostering a troublesome hybrid with a bad track record. Except what begins as a cordial arrangement turns into something much more complicated.

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    02 Jul 2026

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    “Uh,” he says, looking up from his screen and feeling his ears go hot, realizing for the first time that this habit of his hasn’t actually come up before until this exact moment.

    “What?” Rozanov asks, sounding more amused than anything else. “You are one of the people who does Instagram for food now?”

    “No,” Shane says, stalling between answering and finishing his Snap so he can send it to Melissa, “one sec.” He finishes typing out 'Tuna melt. Chips. Pickles. It smells really good. Swiss cheese, I think.' before he looks back to Rozanov, putting his phone facedown on the coffee table. “Just sending it to someone on the staff. She likes knowing what I’m eating.”

    He doesn’t know if Melissa likes knowing what he’s eating, per se, but she also seems pleased when he talks about enjoying food for things beyond how many grams of protein it has in it.

    “Ah,” Rozanov says, in a tone Shane can’t quite read. “You always send her your food then, this girl?”

    (shane has a habit of sending his team's dietician his meals for approval) (the problem with this habit? he forgets to tell ilya exactly what it is that melissa does) (how the tuna meltdown is AVERTED through the power of miscommunication)

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    30 Jun 2026

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    Shane is convinced that Ilya Rozanov—captain of the Boston Bears and Shane’s newest student—hates him.

    Ilya joined Shane's yoga class specifically to get closer to the hot instructor, but every attempt at flirting only seems to make things worse.

    Neither of them has any idea the other is completely in love with them.

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    20 Jun 2026

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    “You want to talk to people about me?” Shane asked quietly.

    There was something small and confused in the question. But Ilya was still furious and raw.

    “Well I would,” he sneered, “if there was anything about you that was fucking interesting to talk about! It would be nice to not be so fucking bored and miserable!”

    The second the words left his mouth, he watched the pain roll across Shane's features like a thousand fractures shattering through glass.

    Ilya had seen Shane nearly break ribs. He had seen him miss game-winning shots, take hits that left bruises blooming purple and black across his skin. He had never seen this.

    Shane closed his eyes for a long moment. He shook his head slightly, a tiny movement, then nodded once as if agreeing with something only he could hear. His face twisted briefly with a fresh wave of pain before he forced it to still.

    ---------

    What if Shane and Ilya don't make up so easily after the Boxing Day fight? The Centaur's plane never malfunctions, so Shane never proposes. Instead, Ilya gives him an ultimatum on coming out and going public. It backfires spectacularly.

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    15 Jun 2026