interstellar_silence



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    “Wow,” Ilya snickers. “Not even Golden Boy Hollander is safe from the pussy curse, huh?”

    “Do not call it that.”

    Ilya crosses his arms and looks at Shane like he’s being stupid. It’s a frustratingly familiar look. “It is a curse that gives a pussy. Pussy curse. It’s not that bad of curse, actually.”

    Or; Someone commissions a witch to curse Shane with a vagina. It’s a flagrant violation of MLH rules, but Ilya’s always been good at making lemonade out of lemons.

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    24 Jan 2026

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    “Ilya?” Shane said in that same dreamy, loopy voice as that morning. Ilya exhaled in a rush.

    “Shane,” he said, and wanted to sag against the glass with relief. “What happened? Is something wrong?”

    “Not! Any moooooooore.”

    Ilya swallowed. Shane hadn’t gotten any quieter in the past seven hours.

    “Why are you calling me? You need to be resting,” he said, and it sounded softer than he’d meant it to.

    “I forgot to tell you something. Important.

    “You should not be telling me anything, you should be—”

    “My cottage has really good water pressure,” Shane announced.

    Ilya stared out the window while a small plane taxied past.

    “What?”

    ——————

    Shane's cottage has a lot of amenities, and he needs to tell Ilya about all of them.

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    08 Jan 2026

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    “Game is over,” he says. “You won. I lost. I was annoying. Normal.”

    “That’s not—” Shane starts, then stops, because he actually doesn't know how to finish that thought without sounding like an idiot. His jaw works, teeth grinding together.

    That's not what I meant. That's not the point. You said I was boring and you were right and I need you to say it again so I know where I stand, so I know what you think of me, so I can stop waiting for the other shoe to drop.

    He settles for: “You were kind of an asshole.”

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    08 Jan 2026

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    Every Boston Raider knows that although their captain has a girl in every port, he’s got a soft spot for the one in Montreal. Dr. Shane Hollander knows it’s better to have a semi-regular source of casual sex than try to make a relationship work during residency. Ilya Rozanov knows that the doctor he’s fucking in Montreal is unaware that he plays hockey, and in fact probably thinks he’s Bratva.

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    06 Jan 2026

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    “You invited my replacement?” He’s joking somewhat when he says that. He knows he left the 118 willingly, and he loves the 217, loves flying helicopters and working on them, but meeting the probie who took his spot chafes at him a little in a way he doesn’t understand.

    “Yeah,” Howie says quietly. “I think he’s a little lost.”

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    05 Dec 2025