21 – 34 of 34 Works in Hopeful Ending

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  1. “Who did this to you?” he seethes, barely recognizing his own voice as blood pounds in his ears. 

    Shane doesn’t answer. Just shakes his head as he stumbles forward, crashing into Ilya with what little strength he has left. 

    Ilya’s arms come up immediately to hold him, to cradle him in the circle of his arms. But the question remains on his lips, and he repeats it, the words still laced with venom. “Who did this to you?” 

    “I don’t want to tell you,” he says. “You’ll kill him.”

    “You are fucking right, I will kill him,” Ilya says, his hand coming up to wipe a bead of blood from Shane’s face. 

    “I’m not worth that,” Shane responds, and Ilya immediately wants to counter that he’s worth all of that and more. There’s nothing that even remotely compares. And anyone who dares to do so much as lay a finger on Shane Hollander will have to answer to him and the wrath of everything he has at his disposal.

    “Shane,” he says, softer this time, hoping maybe a shift in tone will lead him to what he needs. “Who did this?”

    Shane pulls back slightly, his face devastated as he says, “Your brother.” 

    ____

    A mafia AU

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  2. It had all got too real. That wasn’t what they were. They met up a couple times each year, took what they needed from the other, and then left before the afterglow could fade. They did not – could not – have any more than that. And they certainly did not call each other by their forenames. That would imply that they meant more to each other than either had ever expressed, that Rosanov was more than just Rosanov, Shane’s arch rival on ice and absolutely nothing off ice. And that could never happen. - Or, Hayden's reaction to Shane coming back to their hotel room freaking out and in Ilya's clothes in ep 4.

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  3. This is worse, somehow, than every other goodbye from the past eight years.

    Worse, to have all of Ilya now and not be able to touch him.

    It’s been two hours since they last kissed and weeks until they’ll get to again and there aren’t enough ‘I love you’s in the world to make this hurt less.

    Ilya is just looking at him, glassy-eyed and a little desperate, and Shane’s hands creak on the steering wheel.

    “You need to get out of the car before I do something stupid,” he croaks, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears he can already feel welling up.

    “Like what?” Ilya asks, voice scratchy and morose.

    “Like turn around and drive you back to Montreal with me.” He opens his eyes again, finding Ilya’s gaze across the console. “Or kiss you.”

    *

    In which saying goodbye after the cottage is a lot harder than either of them anticipated.

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  4. Ilya's hand continues its path up and down Shane's back, and Shane thinks again about how love is sometimes just this: a palm on the spine, moving in circles, waiting for you to come back to yourself. There is no promise of saving you—Ilya cannot save him, they both know this and are alright with it in their own ways—but there is a vow of staying, lingering in order to witness. Touching the bruise so that its pain triggers the memory that you are allowed to be touched. Outside, the snow continues its work of erasure. Inside, Shane's breathing begins to even out, every limb recalling how to be a man at rest rather than an animal fawning and freezing. The trembling subsides, wave by wave, as if Ilya's hand is smoothing it out of him. "Sleep, зайчик," Ilya says softly, his free hand coming to rest in Shane's hair. "I have you." This is not true, Shane thinks, and it is also the only true thing. ⋆ recovery, shane learns, is not a straight line. to begin to understand something, you must first name it.

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  5. Shane almost misses the stench of a cigarette beside him after sex.

    Shane has never smoked a cigarette in his life, but right now he’s craving the smell. Craving the specific ones Ilya smokes. It’s pathetic.

    Shane is sitting up against his headboard, but he’s not alone in bed. Miles, Rose’s actor friend, lays next to him, eyes closed as he relaxes in the afterglow. For some reason, Shane doesn’t feel much of an afterglow himself.

    After Rose breaks up with Shane, he sleeps with Miles, but all he can think about afterwards is Ilya.

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  6. He holds out the cigarettes and lighter in one hand and the vodka glass in the other, and Ilya looks at him, surprise evident in his hazel eyes even in the dim light.

    “What?” Shane grins. “Didn’t think I knew about your secret stash?”

    Ilya’s smile back almost reaches his eyes, and he takes Shane’s offerings without a word.

    Flint strikes and with a flick of flame, a different type of smoke starts to fill the air, floating slowly up into the trees.

    Normally, Shane would wait inside until Ilya finished his cigarette, but today, he sits and leans his head on Ilya’s shoulder, willing to make the concession.

    “I hate this day,” Ilya says, his face once again stony, while he lets out a long puff of smoke into the cooling air around them.

    “I know,” Shane says, his fingers tracing along the soft fabric of Ilya’s sweats. “I hate it for you.”

    It’s the same every year on the anniversary of his mother’s death. A long day spent with few words and deep sighs bleeds into nightfall. They sit and look out over the water, ghosts flickering across Ilya’s eyes like the firelight around them.
    ___

    Or Ilya hates this day. Shane hates it for him. They sit together anyway.

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  7. Hi. This is Ilya. I will never listen to your voicemail. The greeting wasn’t a joke or an exaggeration—it was the truth. Shane leaves messages anyway, confessions to a digital void that will never judge him, and never push him away. At least, that’s what he thinks.

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    AO3:
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  8. When he does wake up the lights are off and Ilya’s chest is against his back and Shane knows without even having to look at his phone that he probably should’ve left hours ago. He checks anyway, just in case it’s somehow only around midnight. 2.47am. Great. “Ugh.” He screws his eyes shut for a beat and drops his phone back on the nightstand. The sound of it makes Ilya jump behind him and he spares a moment to feel guilty for waking him up. “Why didn’t you wake me, asshole?” It comes out more like a whine than an actual accusation and Ilya mutters something behind him before rolling onto his back. Shane misses his warmth immediately. “What can I say, Hollander? I wore you out. Thought I should let you rest, huh.” * Every time Shane and Ilya accidentally spent the night together.

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  9. Scott [19:57]: I'm so sorry, but I can't. I hope you have a really nice time with your friends. Happy birthday.

    He wants to add I love you, because God knows that hasn't changed - won't change - but deletes it before sending.

    -
    bar scene aftermath, everyone has many feelings

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  10. “Why are you out here alone?” Ilya asks. “Who left you here?” Hesitantly, Shane’s eyes cast up at the apartment building. Ilya follows his gaze, confused. “I’m sorry,” Shane says softly, “I went home with someone.” Ilya’s head snaps in his direction. “What?” -an episode 4 au where shane goes home with the bartender instead of rose, and it goes very, very poorly-

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  11. When Shane was freshly sixteen, Yuna came home to find him freaking out by himself at the kitchen island. He was perched on one of the bar stools with his entire torso slumped across the counter and his arms extended in front of him, hands balled into fists on the granite. His head was buried between his shoulders and he didn’t sound like he was breathing. Yuna didn’t say anything for a solid thirty seconds. Alarms blaring in her head, she silently tossed her purse to the side and beelined for her son with her hands out to comfort him. --- Or: Five times Yuna suspected Shane was gay, and the one time she finally found the right words to say.

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  12. “Have you ever considered that he might be… I don’t know, into you?” Shane almost spat out his beer in response, but ended up choking instead. He went into a coughing fit, catching Rozanov’s attention, who threw a glance and a smirk his way. Shane replied to that reaction with a scowl. This is just fucking great, isn't it? “What the fuck, Rose? He-He's not even gay!” he hissed. “You don't know that! And, sometimes, you two look at each other in a way that makes me unsure whether you wanna kiss or kill the other. We all know you’ve tried the second option a few times. Have you tried the first?” OR Rose's favorite hobby is playing matchmaker for Shane. However, Shane didn't expect her to try to set him up with Ilya Rozanov of all people. Things between them are... complicated. Much more complicated than Rose even knows.

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  13. He thinks it cannot be healthy to be pacing the streets of Boston, an empty, hollow ache ricocheting up his spine. It does not make sense that he feels as though he is a bird caught in the mouth of a dog, the world appearing through tightly clenched, slobbering teeth. He is no fragile-boned creature, no docile lamb for any slaughter; he is the wolf on the prowl, the shadow that hunts from above. He is fear that haunts the world; he does not have it.

    OR: Ilya wants: home, Shane, freedom—it does not matter. It is all selfish in the end. He is sure he does not deserve it.

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  14. Ilya rubbed his thumb across Shane’s hand. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I know it was not easy.” Shane scoffed, “No shit.” Ilya flicked at him playfully. “Shut up. I am trying to be comforting.” Shane peeked at Ilya from under his arm just to glare at him. Shane was glad Ilya wasn’t being careful with him or anything–that would have just made him feel worse. Ilya was just being Ilya, and Shane needed that. Or, Shane Hollander has OCD. It's frustrating, scary, and difficult, but Ilya is there for him every step of the way.

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