here a fic there a fic everywhere a fic-fic
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Most Europeans who have good magic for hockey stay in Europe. There are a few leagues that don't use magic over there, but most of them do. Russia is famous for it, and famously does shit in the international leagues that don't allow it, and phenomenally in the international leagues that allow it.
Rozanov's powers don't just guarantee him the win. The last Russian with solid Hockey powers who joined the MLH was Varkov, and while he never admitted why he made the switch, it seems obvious to Shane. He still doesn't understand why Rozanov would.
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- AO3:
- #94116031
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Rozanov says, "you always keep your mark covered," and Shane desperately wishes they were back to talking about women.
"Yup," he agrees and takes a drink from the ginger ale in his hand just to have something to do. He's going to have to start pretending like it's still got liquid in it soon, if this continues.
"The women I am with always want to see if we are soulmates, they do not do this with you?" Rozanov is staring at him again, right hand raised so that Shane can see the colors shift red and teal and yellow and pink and green and his left hand still down his fucking pants.
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It takes the end of the season, a "friendly kidnapping" (that is parent approved), and seven Moscow mules before he'll talk about it, honestly, to Rose.
"It's okay if you're still upset about it," she says, which is a thing she's said before.
Before he always just says he's not. But he's warm and comfortable and they're alone, and he's a little drunk, so he looks out over the view of the city through the glass doors of the balcony and says. "I am so pissed about it."
- Part 13 of here a fic there a fic everywhere a fic-fic
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"We consider ourselves a modern team, inclusive, you know. So we're excited to have someone with Shane's … background," the General Manager of the Montreal Midnighters is saying to his mother, hand clamped uncomfortably on Shane's shoulder.
Rozanov is watching him. His lips are tight, his eyes serious.
Shane looks away.
He's pissed he wasn't first, of course, but he can't be surprised that Boston wanted to go with a more traditional option. Vampires as forwards and wings, weres as defense and goalies. Faes for nothing.
- Part 25 of here a fic there a fic everywhere a fic-fic
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