Jl_under



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    “I’m putting in a transfer request to Carleton this afternoon.”

    Ilya gets off his bike and wraps his sweaty arms around Shane’s sweaty shoulders, presses their sweaty heads together and holds him tight. “Nooo, Hollander, you cannot leave me. Who will put Barrett and Marly in time out when they fuck up too many shots in a row?”

    “I’m sure Bood will do it. He loves bossing people around.”

    Bood stands up straight and salutes his captains. “I take the title with great honor. Enjoy the Ravens, Hollander—your legacy of being a chaste Victorian debutante will be remembered fondly but not carried on.”

    This snaps that last thread of Shane’s refined patience. “I can pick up girls! I have no problem getting numbers and calling them and talking!”

    Hazy smirks. “Innocent until proven guilty.”

    “I can pick people up,” Shane says again, moving off his bike and out of Ilya’s sweaty embrace. “And I don’t have to do it by concocting schemes or stripping on top of the LAX bros’ coffee table.”

    Or, after some team chirping at Shane's expense, Ilya accidentally interrupts a few of his potential dating prospects and then keeps on doing it less than accidentally

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    04 Jan 2026

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    Ilya let himself soften into it. He’d missed this, the simple camaraderie between teammates. He did feel lonely, but in some ways he felt safer with this team, and Shane had given him that, it was because of Shane that he moved to Ottawa. All the good things in his life curved back to Shane. Looking around, he tried to imagine him here, not Shane Hollander the hockey player, but his Shane, the man who made the darkest rooms feel like home. He felt suddenly certain that they would welcome him with love and respect. And, God help him, he was still hoping like an idiot that Shane would walk through the door.

    Ilya tightened his grip on his roasting stick, jaw set, trying to divert his thoughts back to the present, when a ripple went through the group. Conversation dipped, then stopped completely.

    “Um… what the fuck,” Dillon muttered, eyes flicking toward the house. “Is that Shane Hollander?”

    Or Shane decides to go get his man after seeing Ilya’s instagram post in Chap.23 of TLG.

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    31 Dec 2025

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    Shane and Ilya have a hard time keeping it professional, and Bood is done with their shit.

    Enter the PDA Jar.

    Every time the team catches Shane and Ilya in a public display of affection, they have to pay a fine.

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    29 Dec 2025

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    He only realizes he’s doing it when it’s too late to stop.

    He’s standing in the drink aisle of the grocery store, checking the expiration dates on the cans of Coke, mentally cross-checking them with Boston’s away game schedule, and the reality hits him like someone shook one of those cans and popped it open. A snap. A fizz. A mess.

    Shane is making space for Ilya.

     

    (or, lessons in budget-friendly shopping, home decor, and resisting the urge to neatly combine all your situationship’s shit into a drawer in your bedroom because you might be falling in love with him: a seven-ish step guide by shane hollander, who is so, so fucked)

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    26 Dec 2025

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    “Well, you are getting something from me. Two things actually: Life-changing sex skills and an opportunity to fuck me—”

    “—Oh, give me a break—”

    “—But,” Ilya says. “What am I getting out of this?”

    “The opportunity to f-fuck me,” Hollander snaps, and yeah, a pretty fair point.

    ilya is failing a class, shane is failing at exploring his sexuality. despite their seven-year-long animosity on the ice, they turn to each other for guidance. a deal is struck.

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    22 Dec 2025