Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types, Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Ember & Ice (Audio Drama)

Relationships:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Finn Lunare/Dane Solari, Finn Lunare/Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander/Dane Solari

Characters:

Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander, Finn Lunare, Dane Solari

Additional Tags:

I wrote this for me but you can read it too, Multiverse, it's not cheating if the guy has the same soul as your boyfriend, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff and Smut, Misunderstandings

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-03-31 Words: 4,540 Chapters: 1/1

all of our midnights

Summary

Ilya wasn't sure what was going on. But he was quite sure that the man who appeared on his front lawn in the pouring rain was not Shane Hollander.
He looked the same - down to the smallest detail.
But he stood differently. Spoke differently.

There was also the matter of the great, glowing pair of blue butterfly wings.

“You.” Ilya Rozanov said, looking the man up and down. “Are not Shane Hollander.”

 

There was quite a lot going on at the moment that Ilya was not certain of. So he decided to start with what he did know and work his way backwards from there. 

 

He didn’t know how this man ended up on his back lawn. At midnight. In the pouring rain. 

He didn’t know why he looked just like Shane Hollander (apart from a few very key differences). 

 

But he did know this wasn’t Shane. 

 

He held himself differently. He wore his arrogance a little too openly. This Not-Shane stood in a way that declared that he knew he was perfect and beautiful and Important. Even if at the moment he was soaked and shivering and seething like a wet dog. 

 

“No…” Not-Shane glowered down at the towel Ilya held out for him dubiously, like it might come to life and try to strangle him. He looked up at Ilya, dark eyes sharp and suspicious. 

“...You’re human.” 

“Yes.” Ilya said plainly. “What are you supposed to be?”

 

Apart from the posture, and the weird affect to his voice - the main tell that this was not Shane Hollander was the large gossamer wings that hung off of his shoulders. They were long and graceful like a dragonfly, though they were fluted and scalloped at the edges in an aesthetically complex manner unlike any insect Ilya knew of. The soft blue glow cast off a subtle light. With each minor movement scatters of fractal blue, indigo and teal rippled iridescent across the surface. 

 

His ears had a sharp taper to the point. There were - scales? No. But something that looked too natural to be makeup - some sort of prismatic scattering across the edges of the eyes and over the shoulders that mirrored the brilliant lunar patterning of his wings. 

 

Ilya stopped believing in fantastical bedtime stories after his mother died. He would not have looked at a man who looked like this and thought - that is a fairy - he would have assumed it was some very impressive costuming. If it wasn't for the fact that he was wearing Shane Hollander’s face.

 

He didn't just look like Shane, he had his body. The curve of his chin and the shape of his mouth and teeth.

 

“You don't know?”

“I know what you look like. I'm not going to say it.” Ilya got tired of holding out the towel, so he opted instead to toss it at Not-Shane. He caught it with some degree of indignation, his forehead pinching and his brow furrowing. He had the same kittenish scowl that Shane wore when Ilya riled him up and - fuck, this was weird.

 

Ilya went to his phone.

He needed to call him. Needed to check and make sure something hadn't taken Shane’s body.

 

“My name is Prince Finn Gaelach Lán of Lunari.” Finn wrapped the towel tightly around his shoulders. “Are the Lunari and the Solari in this reality at war as well? Are you- what kingdom is this? Where are we?”

“Hold on, I'm making phone call.”

“This is important, Dane!”

“You're getting water on my floor. Come on, you need dry clothes.”

 

Ilya tugged Finn down the hall while his phone continued to ring out.

 

“What is that in your hand? You're contacting someone aren't you?”

Finn wrenched his arm free, looking murderous.

“Who are you calling? Are you aligned with the Solari in this world as well?”

 

Ilya gave Finn a withering look. He was talking too fast and Ilya wasn't sure if he was supposed to know what all of these names meant.

 

“I am calling Shane. The man whose face you have.” Ilya said sternly. His voice was cold, accusatory. But to his surprise, Finn relaxed. His demeanor changed at once, a scattering of delighted violet scattered down his wings.

 

“Someone who looks like me? Is he human?”

“Of course.”

“Good! You need to take me to him!”

Finn charged forward, earnest and commanding and too-familiar in a way that made Ilya's heart swoop on reflex. He pressed his hand against Finn’s chest, shoving him gently back.

 

“Dry clothes first. You will explain.”

 

-

 

Prince Finn Something-something was a fairy.

Ilya held that bit of knowledge at arm’s length while Finn changed out of his wet clothes in Ilya's bedroom.

 

He was from another world. His kingdom - the Lunari - was at war with another kingdom - the Solari.

 

“I cast a spell attempting to… banish one of the generals of their army.” Finn peeled himself out of a soaked tunic. “But I. It was untested magic. I think it caught me too. Or maybe just me. I don't know.”

 

Ilya was doing his best to look like he was listening, and not fully entranced by Finn's body as it was revealed in his undress. 

As Finn turned, one of his wings passed by quite close to where Ilya was leading up against the dresser. 

Unable to help himself, Ilya reached out. 

It was cool to the touch, and smooth like taut silk. Where Ilya’s fingertips connected with the fine surface, scatterings of ice-white burst out like spirals of frost. 

 

It was pretty.

Ilya was entranced - too much so to notice how Finn had gone shock-still. 

 

Ilya let his fingertips glide down the surface, closer to where the wings met Finn’s shoulder blades. Finn’s wings shuddered, a scattering of crystalline frost shook off of the surface as Finn staggered, crying out softly. 

 

“Sorry.” Ilya drew his hand back at once. “Are you - does it hurt?”

“No…” Finn gasped, clutching the damp tunic tight to his chest. “It - um, it doesn’t-”

“Oh,” Ilya noticed the deep red flush that had bloomed over Finn’s back. “Sorry.” He said again, uselessly.

“It’s okay.” Finn said thinly, keeping his back very purposefully to Ilya. “I just… give me a moment, please.”

 

Ilya leaned back against the dresser, letting Finn compose himself. 

Finn took a breath. The shimmering glow of his wings died down until they were practically translucent. He then folded them purposefully back against his spine. They conformed to the shape, pressed snug against the musculature of his back until they were practically invisible. 

 

Ilya watched with open fascination. 

 

“Why don’t you keep them like that all the time?” Ilya asked. “If you get a boner whenever someone touches them?”

Finn scowled darkly at Ilya. 

“It’s not when anyone touches them!” He bit out. “It’s you.”

Ilya held up his hands apologetically. Privately, he thought it wasn't his fault Finn happened to find him hot.

“So, why do you look like Shane?” Ilya finally asked.

 

Finn glanced over to him, his plush lips were pursed in a way that looked deeply fetching - if only just because it was Shane's mouth, and Ilya was never going to not be attracted to the things it did.

“Who is Shane to you?” He looked… nervous? Tense, caged up. The same sort of walls that Shane had when a conversation was getting too close to a truth he wanted to hide from.

 

“My clothes, my questions.” Ilya dodged, wishing Finn would hurry up and get dressed.

 

Finn swallowed roughly, pulling on a soft pair of sweatpants.

 

“This is a mirror world to ours. The laws and physics are a little different. Very different.” Finn glanced around Ilya’s room, as if his lamps had done something to personally offend him. “But life echoes the same way across all realities. If he is who I think he is, Shane and I have the same soul.”

 

Ilya's eyes narrowed.

 

“This is not a real thing.”

“You said I look like him? Sound like him?”

Ilya nodded stiffly.

“I bet I move and act like him too. Cover our eyes and we'd move the same way through a dark room.”

Finn picked up a shirt, puzzling over the fabric.

“Is this-?”

He turned to ask Ilya something, only to find the man suddenly standing in front of him. Finn let out a soft breath as Ilya’s hand cupped his jaw, his thumb soft on his cheek. 

 

“Your freckles are the same.” He murmured, tilting his head to the side. He guided Finn forward, placing a soft kiss on his lower lip. “And you taste like him.”

 

Finn’s eyes were wide and wet. That haughty visage was starting to crack. Underneath it, Ilya could see the man was afraid. Not of Ilya, but of this place. Where he was. What his own magic had done to him.

 

“You say you are the same. I will believe you. You are lost, I will help you.”

He spoke plainly and evenly. The way he spoke to Shane when his fears and anxieties were threatening to overwhelm him.

 

Finn’s lips wibbled dangerously. His eyelashes were damp. 

When he spoke, it was as if the words were pulled from the back of Finn’s throat, offered up like confession.

“I missed you, Dane.” He sniffed.

 

Ilya kissed him, if only because he had no choice. Shane’s soul was crying right in front of him, and there was no universe where Ilya could abide by that.

Finn liked to be kissed the way that Shane did.

Firm, assured. The type of kiss that told him.

 

It’s alright. I’ve got you. 

 

Ilya placed another, softer one on the corner of his mouth.

“My name is Ilya.” He said quietly.

 

“Ilya. Yes, right.”

The gentle correction sobered him. Finn righted himself, pulling his composure back together to resume dressing.

 

“Wait.” Ilya went to his drawer, pulling out a different shirt. “Not that one. Wear this.”

Finn caught it, looking it over curiously. He tugged it over his head, smoothed it down in front.

 

“Perfect.” Ilya grinned wolfishly, looking entirely too pleased with himself. Finn looked down dubiously at the black and gold shirt with the strange insignia on it. 

 

“So, why do you need Shane?” Ilya asked. “He is not picking up his phone. It is after midnight. He’s likely been asleep for hours now.” 

 

Finn crossed his arms, looking uncomfortable.

 

“Well. I’m not sure what happened with the magic. It’s just a theory. But if I’m here with you…” He looked up at Ilya under his lashes. “Then the, uh. The general,”

Ilya’s eyebrow twitched.

“Yes,” He said sternly. “The evil general from the bad country you are fighting?” He said it like a warning.

“Well, if he's not here, then he might have been pulled to where Shane is.” 

 

Ilya went tense at once, drawing himself up to full height.

 

“Is Shane in danger?” Ilya asked, his voice quiet and cold.

“... I don't know.” Finn said after a measured moment.

 

Ilya seethed, tearing away down the hall. With one hand he was calling Shane, the other he was dragging along the doppleganger. 

 

“Will he hurt Shane?” Ilya demanded.

Finn looked genuinely lost.

“I - I don’t know!” 

They left the house and into the garage.

“There’s clearly no war going on here-”

Ilya made a vitriolic click of his tongue as Finn continued.

“-But I’m not - I don’t know! I haven’t spoken to him in years, not since-”

 

Ilya went down the row of cars to the fastest one in his fleet and shoved Finn toward the passenger seat.

 

Finn looked wildly out of sorts in the car, cowed a bit by Ilya’s anger. 

 

“You are lucky that we are in the same country.” Ilya said sternly to Finn. He hadn’t the foggiest idea what he would have done with the guy if they had to cross the border between the USA and Canada without any sort of documentation. 

“It is a two hour drive to Montreal. You will not speak until we get there.” He warned Finn, who nodded contritely.

 

They made the drive in an hour and twenty-two minutes.

 

Ilya parked haphazardly in front of Shane’s apartment building. Parking rules in the city were really more of a suggestion than a requirement when you had enough money to cover any ticket that the city could throw at you and also your boyfriend was potentially the target of a rogue fairy attack.

 

Ilya pulled out his spare key and charged into the apartment.

 

“Shane!” 

He practically kicked the door in, hackles raised.

 

There were no signs of a struggle. No blood on the furniture. 

Socks on the floor. 

That was strange.

Shane would not leave socks on the floor.

 

There were voices at the end of the hall. 

 

“Coming!”

 

Shane was there, emerging from the bedroom. He looked a little bleary-eyed and bedraggled, the sheets from the bed bunched around his waist. Of course that made sense, he wouldn’t have been expecting Ilya to stop by in the middle of the night.

He was immediately swept up in a bone-crushing hug.

 

“Shane! You are okay!”

“Ilya, what are you-”

“Are you hurt, muy lyubov?”

“What is going on?” Shane was wide-eyed and white with shock. In the next moment, it was clear why.

 

Ilya was in the hall, holding Shane.

Ilya was also standing in the doorway to Shane's bedroom.

No, not Ilya.

He had the same posture, the same hair. He held himself the same way. 

But he did not have his mother's cross.

There was no tattoo on his arm.

 

Ilya could tell, because this man was naked.

In Shane's bedroom.

 

"Dane." Finn finally caught up to Ilya at the doorway, breathless.

 

Ilya turned back to Finn, incredulous.

 

“The General you try to kill is me?”

 

“Why am I wearing a Raider’s jersey?” Shane demanded, spotting Finn and the clothing Ilya had given him. Because of course that was the biggest problem here.

 

“Why do you have sex hair?” Ilya shot back with a dangerous, toothy grin. “Did he force himself on you?”

 

Dane leaned against the doorframe, looking entirely too pleased. 

“It was more the opposite, really.”

 

“I thought he was you!” Shane said, aghast. “I thought you drove up to surprise me!”

“How did you think this was me?” Ilya demanded, throwing an arm out. “He sounds like he's from fucking Chicago.”

“Hey.” Dane, (who did not know what Chicago was) nonetheless recognized an insult when he heard one.

 

Shane gaped from Ilya to his double. 

“I mean,” He flushed, looking dazed. “We didn’t really… talk much.”

 

“Plus he's got- hey, you.” Ilya glowered at Dane, snapping his fingers on one hand. “Come on. Let's see them. I know you have them.”

 

Dane shrugged, his shoulders flexing as orange-gold wings that glowed like the sunrise unfurled, fluttering out to their full glory. Shane’s jaw dropped, wordlessly mouthing some silent words of confusion as Ilya kept his knees steady in his hold.

 

-

 

2 Hours Earlier

 

-

 

The last thing that Dane saw before he died was a wall of white, magical fire enveloping him. 

As it seared the flesh of his lips, Dane thought that it tasted like Finn. He knew as certainly as he knew the taste of his skin that he was the one who finally took him out of their father’s pointless war. 

 

It was the last thing he thought before he died.

 

Instead of oblivion, Dane found solid ground beneath his feet. 

The raging battlefield was replaced with a calm so still it left his ears ringing. 

 

He was in… an apartment? 

The style of furnishing was unfamiliar to him. The lines were clean and crisp and tasteful, rather than ornate and grandiose. But it was far too familiar for what should have been the great mystery of what came after death.

There was a refrigerator, for fuck’s sake.

Houseplants. 

Magazines scattered on a glass coffee table. 

 

One side of the space was taken up by tall, black windows. The world outside was dark, and the ember-gold glow of his wings shining against the glass obscured the view behind it, allowing Dane to only see his reflection. 

He tugged at the strings on the back of his tunic, allowing his wings to fold and furl themselves tight against the contour of his back and sit transparent against his skin. 

 

Outside, the world came into view. 

It was a massive, sprawling cityscape. Electric lights dotted buildings that casually dwarfed the tallest fortresses in the Solari kingdom.

Strange vehicles with glowing eyes snaked along far-away roadways that glowed in the darkness.

 

Dane placed a hand against the glass, eyes wide.

Where was he?

 

“Ilya?”

 

Dane turned, and the question of his new situation evaporated from his mind.

Finn was there. 

 

No, not Finn.

It couldn’t be, if only for the way he was looking at Dane at that moment.

 

Not murderous, or betrayed. But doting and sleepy-eyed. He had shuffled out into the living room from the hall, with the comfortably rumpled look of someone who had just been asleep, or perhaps just on the cusp of it. 

His clothing looked soft. An oversized sweater hung off of one shoulder, and dipped low over his wrists.

He rubbed his eye with one hand and pushed his hair out of his face and Dane caught sight of his left ear.

 

Oh. 

He was human.

This was a world of humans.

“Hey,” He said, with such warmth in his voice that it nearly buckled Dane at the knees. “I didn’t know you were coming over. Did I miss your text?” 

 

Finn would have been livid if Dane charged into his bedchambers unannounced. Dane knew because he had done that very thing before, if only just to see that adorable scowl on his face - and to entertain himself by turning it into desire and pleasure.

 

But this was nice too. 

This was… everything.

 

The open, familiar affection of someone looking at you like - like they had your heart tucked up safe in their chest and adored it each and every day.

 

Dane watched in slow motion as human-Finn walked over to him with a yawn, and slung his arms around his neck. 

He tasted like Finn. 

And Dane was starving for him.

 

This human kissed him like he wasn’t afraid. Like he wasn’t caught between pulling Dane in or pushing him away. 

 

What had happened? 

Had Dane died? 

Had the gods thrown him across space and time into another world?

 

“You okay?” Shane asked sleepily. 

“Yes.” Dane wrapped his arms around him tightly. “I am now.”

“Hm,” Shane melted into the touch, sighing contently against his neck. “S’okay. Whatever is wrong, you don’t have to tall about it if you don't want. Come on. Let’s go to bed.”

 

Dane followed after him, finding out that human Finn not only loved him openly and without reservation, but also happened to know how to ride a cock like a prized concubine with something to prove. In short order, Dane was coming within an inch of his life, Shane milking his cock dry with their hands interlaced above Dane’s head. 

 

Shane collapsed contently against Dane’s naked body, sated and starry-eyed. 

 

“Mn, this was a nice surprise.” Shane said dazedly, already half-asleep. He pressed a soft kiss to the man’s jaw. “I love you, Ilya.” He murmured, his breathing evening out into the long even cadence of a steady sleep.

 

Dane did not sleep a wink. 

He was wide awake, marveling quietly at the human in his arms. His hand moved gently through the soft locks of the Shane’s hair.

 

Ilya.

Was he Ilya now?

Dane was quite certain he would be whoever this Finn wanted him to be.

His thumb trailed down to reverently trace the freckles on his cheeks. Dane had laid awake each night for the past three years thinking about them. Mapping them into his memory in case he ever forgot them - as if he ever could.

 

Whoever Ilya was, he was clearly someone with a history, with a past. 

Had Dane taken his place?

His arms tightened a bit around Shane as he considered it.

 

If that was the case, he couldn’t leave human Finn alone.

Not again. He already lost him once.

He’d find a way. Work things out.

 

If the fates had given him another chance of life, at another chance at this, he wasn’t going to waste it. He couldn’t-

 

On the other side of the apartment, the door burst open.

“Shane!” Someone with Dane’s voice was roaring at the top of his lungs.

 

-Or, maybe Ilya was still in this reality. And fucking pissed.

That was also a possibility.

 

Shane jerked up and yelled in alarm, his body moving before his mind woke up.

 

“Shane!”

“The fuck- I’m here! Coming!” Shane tumbled gracelessly out of bed on autopilot, the sheets tangled up around his hips as he went. 

 

Dane threw himself against the pillows, swearing softly.

Oh, this was going to be bad.

 

-

Present

-

“What the hell, Dane?” Finn demanded. “You took advantage of my human counterpart?”

 

“Excuse me, the last thing I saw before I wound up here was a ball of magic fire enveloping me, I thought I died!” Dane said, exasperated.

 

“You tried to kill him?” Shane asked, aghast. “Why?”

 

“I didn't,” Finn looked like he was at the end of his rope. His fists clenched, his body trembling. “I wasn't trying to kill you!”

 

Dane crossed the room to Finn. Ilya moved in time, keeping his body between Dane and Shane with a stern glower.

 

Dane placed his hands on Finn's trembling shoulders.

 

“The spell I cast… I wished we could be someplace… where we loved each other…” Finn's eyes were dangerously wet. Dane frowned and sighed. His fingertips guided Finn's chin.

 

“Oh, Finn…” He turned his head, kissing the tears from Finn's eyes.

 

Ilya quickly tore his gaze away and looked to Shane as the fairy's kiss turned fervent and messy and wet.

 

“I'm sorry.” Shane said dismally to Ilya.

“Is okay.” Ilya placed a kiss on his forehead. “He is me. It counts, I think.”

“Even his dick is the same-”

“-That I do not need to hear about.” Ilya cut in flatly.

 

He looked up over at Dane and Finn. 

“Hey!” He barked. “You two need a room?” 

The two men were currently in the throes of tangling themselves up in one another and becoming lost to the world.

 

“Uh-” Said Finn.

“Yes.” Dane replied immediately at the same time.

 

Shane gestured weakly back toward the bedroom.

Dane grinned, grabbing Finn around the middle and hauled him up into his arms. He kicked off of the ground, his wings kicking up at once to propel the two of them down the hall with laughter and a gust of air flying up in their wake. 

 

Something that sounded suspiciously like a lamp breaking in the bedroom caused Shane to wince, but at least the door had slammed shut as well to muffle any other noise.

 

“Are you okay?” Ilya asked gently. 

“Me? Yeah, I’m fine.” Shane rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly. 

“He should have told you.” Ilya grumbled, still looking like he was ready to strangle someone.

“He was… so sad.” Shane frowned. “I didn’t know what was wrong. I just… wanted you, wanted him to feel better.”

“Yes.” Ilya sighed. “I know what you mean.”

 

-

 

A little over an hour later, the four were sitting around Shane's island counter in the kitchen. Dane was making toast on a frying pan with butter and cinnamon, looking perfectly pleased with himself.

 

“So you're a prince?” Shane said, fascinated.

“We both are.”

Dane tsk’d.

“Finn is the heir to his kingdom. I'm the fourth son of the King.” Dane said, as if this was somehow very unimpressive.

 

“Four Alexei’s.” Ilya sighed over his coffee. “I thought one was bad.”

“Why are your families fighting?” Shane asked, causing both of the fairies to rankle and tense.

 

“My father wants to reclaim the old ancestral land of the Solari from the Lunari.” Dane said irreverently.

“We were at peace and your father attacked us.” Finn said coldly.

“It may come as a shock to you, but I didn't exactly get consulted about that.” Dane said pointedly. He doled out toast on a plate for Finn all the same. 

 

“That sounds rough.” Ilya empathized, if only to dislodge the two from a topic clearly upsetting to them. “I thought the Boston-Montreal rivalry was bad.”

“Are those your kingdoms?” Finn asked gently.

“Our hockey teams.” Ilya took a bite of toast. It was good.

“You're athletes?” Dane had a smile that was sly and condescending. Ilya mirrored it back, teeth bright.

“Yes, I am ridiculously wealthy and famous and don't have to fight stupid war against my boyfriend. It's very terrible.”

 

Dane frowned, pointing at him with a spatula.

“You do not get seconds.”

 

“That does sound nice.” Finn murmured, looking distant and unable to meet Dane’s eyes. “Maybe we should just stay here. Find someplace quiet and just live our lives.”

Dane's face grew somber, looking away from Finn as well. There was a gentle pink flush to his cheeks that suggested he did not entirely disagree.

 

“I don't know if that's a good idea.” Shane said, looking a bit ill. “You look just like us. If people see you together, they'll. It would -”

 

“Oh. Would that be bad?” Finn asked. “Because of your hockey?”

 

“Well, yeah. But also because we're guys.” Shane supplied, trying to find something useful to do with his hands.

 

“What does that matter?” Dane asked with innocent curiosity. He was leaning on the counter, munching on his cinnamon toast.

 

“What do you mean?” Shane fumbled.

“Men are not allowed to love each other in many parts of this world.” Ilya supplied, having caught on.

“What? Why?’ Dane raised an eyebrow. “That's stupid.”

“It is very stupid.” Ilya agreed.

“Surely women can though?”

“No.”

“So who is allowed to love each other?"

“Just men together with women.”

“Ugh, that’s boring. Finn, this world sucks, let's go.” Dane finished his toast and set down his plate. “You can send us back, right?”

 

“Yeah.” Finn said dourly, standing up. “It was wrong for me to try and run away from our problems. We have to go back and try to fix things.”

Even if he sounded a bit nauseous as he said it. 

 

“You will.” Ilya said warmly. “You are Shane. And he is very brave.” 

Finn and Shane both went pink at the same time, to Ilya’s immense, preening satisfaction. 

 

Dane huffed, though there was no real malice in his voice. 

He crossed the room to stand in front of Finn. 

 

“What do I have to do?”

“Nothing. Maybe. We should probably stay in contact this time.” Finn took Dane’s hand cautiously. Dane in turn wrapped his arms confidently around Finn’s back, causing his wings to shiver with a fresh scatter of ice. 

On some reflex, Ilya gripped Shane’s shoulder tight. 

 

A strange wind was kicking up in the apartment. It wrapped itself around the two fairies, as a lick of white fire enveloped them both. Their heads bowed tight together as it blazed for a hot, brilliant moment, and then was gone. 

 

The two men sat in the apartment for a long moment, taking stock of what had come and gone.

“So,” Shane said awkwardly. “Did the two of you also-?”

“No.” Ilya answered at once. “Though it will kill me now to not know whether or not fairy-Shane is also circumcised.”