B1acK1tt3nS1tt3r

[ilyarozanovsmouth]

Concept:

Ilya does love seeing old photos of Shane. Fat Baby Shane™ in all his forms, toddler Shane in his little hockey gear, Shane in elementary school with a big missing-teeth smile, Shane blowing out the candles on his 10th birthday, Shane holding up his brand new driver's license at 16. The list goes on.

One day Yuna finds an old disposable camera. The expiration date on it says 2009. She tells Shane about it; it might have some old photos from his graduation on it or something. She'd gotten a digital camera around that time so she can't remember what she used this one for. Shane is pretty indifferent about it.

Yuna sends the camera off to some company that still develops old camera film. It's about 15 years old at this point, though, so whatever is on it might not even develop correctly.

A few weeks later Shane and Ilya are over for dinner. Yuna tells them she got the photos back and they actually turned out ok. She hands over the stack of 10 photos. Shane rolls his eyes, but Ilya grabs the photos and starts flipping through them. The first two look like they are from some school event; there's Shane surrounded by similarly aged kids in an auditorium. There's one of the three of them on Thanksgiving that year and another of the three of them with Yuna's parents at the same dinner. Two of David asleep on the couch with the family dog clearly taken on different days. One of a Christmas tree in the Hollander's living room. The next two are Shane on the ice in a rink that Ilya recognizes as the one in Regina. The one from their first World Juniors Tournament.

And Ilya freezes. The last photo in the stack is a close-up of Shane. He's in a white hoodie with a black coat over it. He has on a dark green beanie and he's standing next to the door to the rink. He's smiling for the camera and his freckles are crinkled near his eyes. It's the Shane that so awkwardly and so confidently introduced himself to Ilya the first time they met. The Shane that had tried so hard to talk to Ilya then. The Shane that Ilya could admit to himself now that he'd had a bit of a crush on already. His Shane.

His Shane was getting blurry as tears filled his eyes.

[my-castles-crumbling]

law - @jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic - word count: 249 - cw: slight homophobia

"Did you see this utter garbage?" Walburga spluttered, throwing the Daily Prophet on the table in disgust, her lip twitching as she looked between Regulus and Orion like they'd been the ones to print the morning news. "I can't believe what the world is coming to. I swear, when the Dark Lord rises to power, everyone will be better off."

Biting his tongue, Regulus glanced down at the paper. There, in big, bold letters, the headline read: LAW PASSED: GAY MARRIAGE LEGAL FOR WIZARDS IN THE UK.

His stomach swooped, tears suddenly springing into his eyes. It was everything he'd ever hoped for and far more than he'd dared dream. "Fuck," he muttered, hands shaking.

For once, mother didn't admonish him for his language. "Too right," she murmured, mistaking his cursing for disgust.

But Regulus was too busy trying not to scream with joy. "May I be excused, father?" he asked politely, already standing up from the table.

Orion grunted, too busy not paying attention to his family to notice. But Regulus didn't care. He was stumbling upstairs to his room, trying to figure out how to contact–

A screech made him look up to his window, the sight of Adonis, the Potters' owl, making him break into a smile. Trembling, he opened the hastily-scrawled note.

Leave now. Marry me. Please, Reg. -J

He didn't look back. Grabbing a few important things, Regulus stole for the Floo and disappeared, happier than he'd ever ever been in his entire life.

[my-castles-crumbling]

law - @jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic - word count: 249 - cw: slight homophobia

"Did you see this utter garbage?" Walburga spluttered, throwing the Daily Prophet on the table in disgust, her lip twitching as she looked between Regulus and Orion like they'd been the ones to print the morning news. "I can't believe what the world is coming to. I swear, when the Dark Lord rises to power, everyone will be better off."

Biting his tongue, Regulus glanced down at the paper. There, in big, bold letters, the headline read: LAW PASSED: GAY MARRIAGE LEGAL FOR WIZARDS IN THE UK.

His stomach swooped, tears suddenly springing into his eyes. It was everything he'd ever hoped for and far more than he'd dared dream. "Fuck," he muttered, hands shaking.

For once, mother didn't admonish him for his language. "Too right," she murmured, mistaking his cursing for disgust.

But Regulus was too busy trying not to scream with joy. "May I be excused, father?" he asked politely, already standing up from the table.

Orion grunted, too busy not paying attention to his family to notice. But Regulus didn't care. He was stumbling upstairs to his room, trying to figure out how to contact–

A screech made him look up to his window, the sight of Adonis, the Potters' owl, making him break into a smile. Trembling, he opened the hastily-scrawled note.

Leave now. Marry me. Please, Reg. -J

He didn't look back. Grabbing a few important things, Regulus stole for the Floo and disappeared, happier than he'd ever ever been in his entire life.

[outromoonyy]

"Moony and I decided that if we're both still single at thirty, we're going to marry each other."

James choked on his pumpkin juice. Lily, who had been lazily playing with the ends of James’s hair, froze. 

"You what?" James wheezed.

"It’s a pact," Sirius explained casually, reaching over to steal a piece of bacon off Remus’s plate. Remus didn't even look up from his book; he just automatically shifted his plate an inch closer to Sirius so it would be easier for him to reach. "If we hit thirty and neither of us has found a wife, we'll just tie the knot. For tax purposes. And because I can't cook."

Lily stared at them. She looked at Sirius, who was currently wearing one of Remus’s jumpers, and then at Remus, who was using Sirius’s knee as an armrest.

"Right," she snorted. "A pact."

"Yeah," Remus mumbled. "It’s practical. We already know we can tolerate each other."

"Tolerate," James repeated, incredulous. "Sirius, you literally threatened to hex a first-year yesterday because they bumped into Remus in the corridor."

"He was moving entirely too fast," Sirius defended, looking genuinely offended. "Moony has bad joints."

"And Remus," Lily continued. "You spent three hours last week mending a tear in Sirius's jacket by hand because he claimed the reparo charm makes the leather 'feel itchy.'"

"He has very sensitive skin, Lily," Remus defended. "You know he only sleeps on silk pillowcases."

James rubbed his face with both hands, looking like he was rapidly losing his grip on reality. 

"You two have lived in each other’s pockets for six years. You pushed your beds together since fourth year, you sign your Christmas cards together, Sirius only lets you cut his hair and refuses to study unless his feet are resting in your lap. Yesterday, I watched Sirius eat a piece of toast directly out of Remus's hand."

"My nails were drying," Sirius argued. "I couldn't risk smudging the polish." 

"You're already married!" James exclaimed, throwing his arms up. "You just haven't signed the paperwork! I feel like I'm third-wheeling a sixty-year marriage every time I sit in my own dormitory!" 

Sirius scoffed, rolling his eyes at Remus. "We are not inviting him to the wedding.”

James put his head down on the table and refused to speak for the rest of breakfast.

[tealeavesandtrash]

Of Bookshops and Flow Powder

Happy one year to my baby

AO3 // Spotify Wolfstar // T // 8k words // Compete // Alternate Universe - Magical Bookshops

The old floo fireplace was already there when Remus first bought his bookshop and he always assumed it had been disconnected from the network. Until one year later, when someone comes stumbling through it.

And now there’s a dog that wants to ruin his wallpaper and won’t leave him alone.

[tinylilhollander]

Shane follows Yuna outside and for the first time (of what will later be innumerable times), David is left alone with Ilya Rozanov.

Initially, he's too worried about how the conversation between his wife and his son is going to really think too much about the enormous hockey player opposite him. But after a few moments he realises that it's too quiet.

It's not that he's expecting Rozanov – Ilya – to be as loud and showboaty as he is in interviews, but he's definitely not expecting the man to be intently staring into his glass like it holds all the secrets of the universe, not moving a single muscle. David is sure this isn't just normal meeting-the-parents nerves. It's terror, like Ilya is scared to do or say anything. Like he's scared it'll provoke David or something.

And suddenly Ilya doesn't seem like an enormous hockey player at all – just a scared kid in a situation he didn't plan for or expect anymore than his son did. After all, David has also accidentally outed him.

He regards Ilya for a moment before clearing his throat.

"So, Ilya, what do you like to eat?"

Ilya's head snaps up and his eyes meet David's.

"I'm sorry?" He says it carefully, like he's waiting for it to be a trick question, and David's heart gives a little pang. What has happened to this kid to make him so suspicious and anxious?

"What's your favourite thing to eat?" David asks with a smile, making sure his voice is as calm and gentle as possible. It feels a bit like he's trying to coax a scared and cornered animal out from under a car. "I think you and Shane should stay for dinner. Since I think we'll be seeing more of you from now on, I'd like to know what kind of food you enjoy so that we can make it for you when you visit. So what can I get you? Burgers? Pasta? We have a pizza oven if you'd like a pizza?"

"Pasta," says Ilya, the corners of his mouth turning up in an encouraging way. "If it's like the pasta Shane makes, I think I will really like that."

"Pasta it is then," says David, smile growing at the way Ilya's shoulders settle. He resolves right then to make sure that Ilya will never feel this terrified in his home again. "Want to help me get it started? Beats sitting here worrying about how the conversation outside is going, right?"

"Right," says Ilya with the first real smile he's ever seen from him. And David sees it then – sees the man that Shane must have seen beneath the bravado, beneath the act.

You're home now, Ilya, he thinks to himself as they make their way to the kitchen. Welcome to the family.

[my-castles-crumbling]

thin - hollanov - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 395 - slightly NSFW - click here to see my microfic archive!

It wasn't Shane's fault, not really. 

Ilya was the one who had been stupid enough to leave his devastatingly good-looking boyfriend alone in a gay club. 

And even though it had only been for five minutes, of course he had returned to Shane smiling bemusedly at a thin, younger man doing everything he could to flirt with him. 

Credit where credit was due: Shane obviously had absolutely no idea what was going on. Ilya remembered back to when he had literally had to pull his dick out in the showers to get Shane to look his way. Shane was his favorite person on earth, but he wasn't very good at reading signals. So he wasn't mad at all, at least at his husband…but the other man could have torn him in half. 

Still, he knew he had to be a little bit more subtle if he didn't want to get put in jail for the night. So he walked up to the two men, dragging Troy Barrett behind him, and looked the stranger up and down. "How much do you weigh?" he asked bluntly, giving him the dirtiest look he possibly could. 

“Seventy kilos?” the man said, looking absolutely confused and a little bit offended, which Ilya was completely fine with. 

“Barrett,” he said, turning to Troy, "How much weight do you think I could throw across the room?" 

Troy, picking up on Ilya's signs, smirked a little. “I'd say at least seventy kilos,” he said, grinning. 

Shane looked a little horrified but also a little turned on, so Ilya knew he was in the clear. 

The other man, however, looked terrified. “Listen, man,” he started to protest, but Ilya was not hearing it. 

“And you, Hollander, how much do you weigh?” he asked, turning to his husband. 

“Like ninety kilos,” Shane replied, rolling his eyes and smirking a little.

Ilya turned to Troy. “How much do you think I could pick up?” he asked, pretending to ponder. 

“A lot more than that,” Troy said happily, ever willing to be Ilya's wingman. 

“Ah,very good,” Ilya grinned, moving forward and unceremoniously Shane off of the stool he was sitting on and carrying him away. 

Of course, since he felt the ever-growing bulge in Shane's pants rubbing against his waist, he decided to take him straight to the closest bathroom and take care of that immediately.

[tobukizzy]

a heatwave being roommates wolfstars breaking point will always get me. both of them walking around sweaty and in as little clothes as they can get away with and just more on edge in general because of the heat and remus just snapping at one point when sirius was eating some sort of ice lollie (obscenely) and kissing sirius senseless

the popsicle melting in sirius hand and dripping down his wrist and remus grabbing his hand and licking the line of the drip while keeping eye contact

[my-castles-crumbling]

tell - hollanov - @hollanovmicrofic - word count: 325 - click here for my hollanov microfic archive on ao3

Shane, as always, was absolutely unshakable as he sat at the table surrounded by his new teammates. Though the cards in his hand were almost as awful as he was with women, he wasn't about to give up hope. Eyes roving around the group, he decided to go in for the kill. "I raise you all two hundred," he said calmly, throwing chips into the center of the table, trying not to smirk as, predictably, the guys began to let out hisses and sighs.

"I fold," Boodram announced, throwing down his cards and shaking his head frustratedly.

"Same. Fuck you, Hollander."

"Menace at hockey and poker, not fair..."

Shane held his stoic expression as everyone gave in, until only one man was left.

Ilya Rozanov glared at Shane as if he was trying to decide if he'd committed an egregious crime. 

Shane held his gaze, blinking calmly, refusing to back down under his husband's pressure. Everyone around the table looked on eagerly, like they were spectating a particularly intense tennis match, heads snapping back and forth between the two men, waiting for someone to speak. 

Then–

"You are lying. I–what is word? I call you, Hollander."

Cursing under his breath, Shane slammed his cards down on the table and grimaced, the table of guys catcalling and laughing. 

"How the fuck do you always know?" Shane muttered, rolling his eyes as Ilya gloatingly grabbed the sizable amount of chips in the middle of the table.

"You have tell, malysh," Ilya murmured back, beaming. His hand moved to trace between Shane's eyebrows. "There is line, here. Shows when you say 'I hate you, Ilya. You are asshole, Ilya.' And, back...before, when you would say, 'I do not like you Ilya.' Shows when you lie, Hollander."

Shane felt himself blush. "When...did you figure that out?" he whispered.

"Around time I figure out I was lying, too."

Oh.

Well.

They could share the winnings, anyway.

[bimoonphases]

@wolfstarmicrofic Pride prompt 20 - Queer [word count 359]

"Sirius! Sirius!"

"Look here, Sirius!"

With practiced ease, Sirius extracted himself from the limousine and walked a few paces on the red carpet to where the reporters were flashing cameras and extending microphones.

"I'm all yours my darlings, but one at a time, please," he flashed his famous smile and watched the journalists tumble over eachother to be the first to ask him a question.

"Are you proud of your work?"

"Oh, absolutely! I've been reading Remus Lupin's novels since the very first one was published, so starring in the movie adaptation of that masterpiece that is The Wolf Within is an honour and a privilege, along with an absolute pleasure."

"Did you get to meet the author?"

"He came on set a couple of times," Sirius nodded. "I don't think it really was his jam with how packed and chaotic a set can be but he was kind enough to let us ask any questions we had about our characters."

"And what about James Potter?" another journalist asked. "You've been friends and colleagues for years, was it awkward kissing him on screen?"

"Awkward?" Sirius chuckled, looking at where James was getting out of his limousine. "Have you seen the man? I'm very glad I got to kiss him."

He caught a couple of stares so he flashed another smile and stared right into the closest camera.

"Given the importance of this story and others like these in current times, I want to make one thing very clear: I didn't make this movie just to cater to the queer community, I am part of the queer community. That's right my darlings, I'm queer and very proud of it! See you at the next premiere!"

And with that he whirled around and strutted along the red carpet. He didn't mind premieres, and this one was very important not only for the subject matter but also because it had finally given him the opportunity to come out publicly. Still, the author of the novel on which the movie was based was presently still asleep and very naked in his bed and Sirius wanted nothing more than to run back to him.

[outromoonyy]

"He is going to get himself killed," Remus muttered, peering through his binoculars as James executed a vertical dive near the goal hoops.

"Prongs is fine," Sirius said casually, leaning back on his elbows against the wooden bleachers. "Best Chaser Gryffindor has ever had. He thrives on the adrenaline."

"I don't understand how he hasn't crashed into something yet. He's spending more time staring at the Gryffindor stands than he is watching the Bludgers."

"Love makes you do incredibly stupid things, Moony."

Remus rolled his eyes, lowering the binoculars to rub the bridge of his nose. "He's just trying to impress Lily. It's ridiculous. Going to those extremes just to get someone to look at you."

"Is it?" Sirius asked.

Remus glanced over. Sirius wasn't watching the Quidditch match at all. He was staring at Remus, his silver eyes completely focused, ignoring the roar of the crowd and the wind whipping his dark hair around his face.

"Sirius—"

"Because I’d give anything," Sirius interrupted, his voice dropping into a deadly serious register. "Hell, I’d burn this whole stadium to the ground if I thought it would make you look at me the way he looks at her."

Remus completely froze. The noise of the stadium dissolved into something distant and meaningless. All he could think about was the fact that Sirius Black had just said the one thing Remus had spent years trying not to hope for.

[fawns-angel]

idea… sirius visits this one music shop in town religiously, but one day something is different. he sees this new worker tuning the guitars — mousy brown hair, warm skin, freckled cheeks… there’s a small scar across the bridge of his nose. his name tag reads remus. sirius has never been so entranced by a man in his entire life

[24liwan]

Cultural

@hollanovmicrofic / Prompt: Boyfriend (June n° 14) / word count: 1010

hollanov - Shane doesn't know he's dating Ilya

Shane probably should have been suspicious.

In his defense, he didn't exactly have many Russian friends.

He’d considered asking Hayden or Rose if that was normal. He even thought about looking it up online, but the idea seemed so dumb that he gave up before he’d even opened the browser.

In the end, he simply concluded it must be some cultural quirk of Ilya’s.

The thing was: Ilya always kissed him whenever they met up. 

It all started on a random day of a random week a few months ago. He was standing there, fiddling with his phone and waiting for Ilya to arrive, when he was taken by surprise by a kiss. It was a quick, wet kiss that left him speechless.

Shane thought about asking, but simply didn't know how to bring it up. So, when Ilya said goodbye with another identical kiss, he just assumed it might be a habit.

Probably cultural (?)

After that, it became routine. Nothing over the top—even when they took a few rather suspicious seconds to pull away. 

Shane had heard about how people in other cultures greeted each other differently, so in his mind, Ilya was just showing that they were like really best friends now.

Soon, the kisses turned into more affectionate gestures. Ilya would walk past him and absentmindedly ruffle his hair on his way to another room. At other times, he would sit next to him on the couch and pull him into a hug without warning. Recently, after Shane was nearly hit by a bicycle, Ilya had also started holding his hand whenever they went out together.

At first, it made him a bit weird, but over time, he got used to it.  

Shane even stopped thinking about it, accepting it when Ilya pulled him close or gave him a casual kiss on the forehead.

It was simply Ilya being Ilya. 

So, when Ilya arrived at Shane’s place to watch the game between Montreal and Boston, Shane didn’t find it strange when he leaned over the back of the sofa, gently caressed his face, and planted a soft kiss on his lips.

It was just another day.

It was only when Ilya stepped away that Shane remembered Hayden was sitting right in front of him, staring at him open-mouthed. As soon as he heard the door close, Hayden leaned forward.

"When were you going to tell me that you two are dating?" Hayden asked, unable to hold back.

Shane looked at Hayden confused, but soon turned his attention back to the screen.

"We are not." 

Because, in fact, they weren't. 

Hayden frowned. 

His gaze shifted from Shane to the hallway door where Ilya had disappeared, and then back to Shane—almost as if he were mentally replaying the events of the last thirty seconds to make sure he hadn't imagined it all.

"You guys… kissed." Hayden spoke slowly, looking at Shane as if he were crazy.

Maybe Hayden was jealous of their friendship?

"It's cultural," Shane replied, shrugging. 

"What's cultural?" Ilya asked. 

He had just returned to the living room wearing one of Shane’s shirts. He sat down next to Shane, his arm slid around Shane’s waist, pulling him closer and without realizing it, Shane leaned against his chest.

He didn’t see anything wrong with it.

"I was asking Shane when you guys started dating."

Ilya let out a thoughtful grunt. 

His thumb traced absentminded patterns along Shane’s waist while he rested his chin on the top of Shane’s head, as if genuinely trying to recall.

"I don't know... Two months ago. Maybe three. Why?"

Hayden was momentarily speechless. 

His gaze darted back and forth between Shane’s and Ilya’s faces as he watched panic slowly creep into Shane’s expression.

At first, Shane only looked confused, his eyebrows scrunched together as he stared at Ilya. Then, little by little, the color began to drain from his face as his brain seemed to catch up with the conversation. His eyes flicked down to the arm still wrapped around his waist before jumping back to Ilya’s face, and Hayden could practically see him mentally sorting through months of memories.

Shane felt his brain simply freeze.

"We are dating?" As the words left his lips, a strange sensation began to spread through his chest.

Ilya was simply watching him with a puzzled expression, like someone who clearly didn't understand what the issue was.

"This is question?"

Oh god.

"So, guys... I think that’s my cue," Hayden announced, already leaning over to grab his keys from the table. He put on his coat in record time and practically fled the awkward situation.

“Is this a joke?” Ilya asked. He was still smiling, but the smile gradually faded as he realized Shane might actually be serious.

It started to make sense.

A very alarming kind of sense.

“When?”

“Three months ago, I invited you to my place for dinner. I told you I liked you, and you said I like you too. We kissed, and I just assumed that...”.

“I thought you were saying you liked me as a friend!”

Ilya went completely still.

For a few minutes, Shane thought he’d blown it. 

He’d lost a friendship. That was it. 

He and Ilya could never be friends again. 

Then, Ilya’s lips began to curve upward until a laugh escaped his throat. He doubled over, resting a hand against his face as he tried to catch his breath, but that only seemed to make him laugh harder.

“Stop it,” Shane complained.

“It’s kind of funny,” Ilya said between chuckles, clearly amused by the situation. “So... we’re dating now, right?” he added a moment later, as if it were the most natural conclusion in the world.

Shane let out a long sigh and ran a hand over his face. 

“We... already are.”

That made Ilya stop laughing immediately. The amusement vanished from his expression almost instantly, giving way to something warmer and softer as he looked at Shane.

“Great.”

And then, without a moment’s hesitation, he leaned in and kissed Shane.

Because, apparently, that’s what boyfriends did. Note: just a random story—I'm not even sure if it makes sense, but it seemed funny in my head. Thanks to @ for proofreading the English!

[sunny-therapy]

Wolfstar and Jegulus modern au

[lulublack90]

Prompt 15 - Hope

@wolfstarmicrofic June 15, word count 435

“Mum, I have something I need to tell you,” Remus said, his entire body tense as he took this next step. 

“What is it, darling?” His mum asked, putting down the basket of washing she’d been about to iron. 

“I’ve, I’ve had these feelings, probably since I was little, not that I understood what they were back then, but all the same…” Why the fuck was this so hard? Hope Lupin was the most understanding, kind woman he’d ever met, on par with Effie Potter, so why couldn’t he get the words out?

“Remus, darling, take a deep breath and start again,” she told him, reaching out for his hand and pulling him down beside her on the sofa. She cradled his head against her shoulder and stroked his hair. He felt his heart rate steady, and after a few deep breaths he started again, soaking up as much love from his mum, just in case. 

“Mum, I like boys.”

Hope’s fingers kept carding through his hair as he sat waiting for her response. 

“Is he anyone I know?” she finally asked. 

“W-what? H-how did you know I was seeing someone?” Remus stuttered. His mum had always had an uncanny ability to figure out what he was hiding. 

“I have a feeling you’re only telling me this now so that when you turn up with your boyfriend it won’t be such a shock.”

Damn it, she’d seen right through him. 

“It’s Sirius,” he confessed. Her hand stilled, and for a split second Remus panicked. 

“He’s a very nice young man,” Hope said, continuing to stroke his hair. Remus felt relief rush through him. 

“He is,” he said, quietly. 

“He can come to dinner tomorrow evening,” she said, already planning the introduction. “Leave your father to me.” 

She got up and walked into his study without knocking, something no one ever did. Remus paced the living room as his parents began to shout and something heavy crashed to the ground. The door opened, and Hope walked out, a smug look upon her face. 

“Your father is delighted that you have someone in your life and cannot wait to meet Sirius again as your boyfriend. He had requested steaks for tomorrow; will that be alright for Sirius?”

“Yes, Mum,” Remus said, staring at her in awe; she was a force to be reckoned with. Not many people stood up to Lyall Lupin, but she was one of them and usually got her way. 

Remus ran back upstairs to phone Sirius and tell him the news while Hope went back to her ironing as though nothing had happened. 

[tinylilhollander]

Birthdays have always been weird for Ilya.

On the one hand, it's one of the days he can most keenly feel the loss of his mom. He misses the way she would wake him up by pulling his ears – one tug for every year of his age – and then hand him his gift. He misses the way that she would always sneak him a second gift right before bed so that he wouldn't be sad about this birthday ending.

On the other hand, they're also a good reminder that life is better than it has been for a long time. Instead of the cold, perfunctory, "Happy Birthday, Ilya," he'd get from his father (if he was lucky), his team have always celebrated him. He's always had a pile of gifts left outside his locker to surprise him, he's always been taken out clubbing, never once having to buy a drink for himself.

His favourite thing has always been the happy birthday text he gets from Shane every year, going back to long before he was his boyfriend. He's never missed a single one, and they're a good encapsulation of how much their relationship had changed over the years:

Happy birthday.

Happy birthday Rozanov.

Happy birthday Rozanov.

Happy birthday Rozanov. 🎂

God knows if you'll actually get this, it's been literal fucking months, but for what it's worth, happy birthday. Hope you're okay.

Happy birthday Rozanov. 🎂🎉

Happy birthday Rozanov. Remind me to give you your 'gift' next time we're together. 😉

Happy birthday Ilya. I'll see you soon. Counting down the days. ❤️

On his first birthday as Shane Hollander's boyfriend, he finds that he's looking forward to waking up to this year's birthday text almost more than anything, and is disappointed when there isn't one. He figures Shane must just be busy and he'll text when he's finished with whatever he's got going on. Ilya carries on with his day, finishes his workout, showers, but still there's no text from Shane.

Now he's starting to panic. He's always gotten Shane's birthday messages first thing in the morning. Has something happened to him? He doesn't want to message in case it's nothing and he makes it sound like he's desperate for Shane's birthday message (as much as he kind of is), so he ends up scouring the news sites for any sign that something might have happened to him. There's nothing.

Feeling a little pit in his stomach at the idea that Shane might have forgotten his birthday in the first year of being his boyfriend, he makes his way to the living room, deciding that he'll watch the rest of the cup final that he and Shane were too busy sexting during to finish watching the night before. He's just sat down on the couch when he hears the knock on his door.

No way. Surely not?

But it is. There, right there, close enough to reach out for, is Shane, carrying an overnight bag, holding an enormous gift box, and wearing a slightly nervous smile.

"Surprise," he says. "This is for you. Happy birthday, Ilya."

Ilya takes the box from him, and leads Shane inside where he places it on the kitchen island and immediately turns, intending to crowd his boyfriend against the nearest window and kiss him to within an inch of his life.

Shane, however, puts his hands on his shoulders to stop him.

"Mom and Dad are here too," said Shane. "They're waiting in the car. They aren't staying the whole day, and I can tell them to leave now if you're not comfortable with them being here, but they wanted to celebrate with you. If you'd like. You said you didn't really have plans so I figured—"

And Ilya immediately changes tactics and hoists Shane up onto the island, pushing the gift further back on the counter as he kisses him to within an inch of his life.

"I thought you forgot," he says, feeling embarrassingly teary all of a sudden. "I thought you forgot or that you died or something. I was checking all the news sites."

"Oh, baby," says Shane, giving a small laugh and swooping in for another kiss, finally breaking apart to rest his forehead on Ilya's. "I would never forget something this important. And for what it's worth, I seem to be alive too."

A few minutes later, David and Yuna hand him a gift box that's just as big as the one Shane did, and another box that turns out to be a beautifully decorated birthday cake, that they share after lighting candles and singing to him. They tell him to make a wish as he blows the candles out and the only thing he can wish for is more of this forever. They spend the day talking, rewatching the finals, and making Ilya feel more loved than he can remember feeling for a long time.

Later, long after David and Yuna have left to catch their flight home, long after Shane and Ilya have spent several enjoyable hours completely wrecking Ilya's bed, while they're lying cuddled together just basking in the glow of how magical the day has been, Shane turns to Ilya, chews on his bottom lip, and then reaches out to tug Ilya's ear 27 times.

"Shane..." he says, voice choked, not sure what he wants to say, not sure if he can describe the scope of what today has meant to him. Shane's cheeks flush.

"Sorry, I read somewhere that was a tradition or something, but if it isn't and that was just the weirdest thing I've ever done to you, please, just for my sake, pretend it never happened?"

And Ilya kisses him. He kisses him long and slow and so full of all the gratitude he can't put into words. He's crying by the time they pull apart, unable to keep it together after the enormity of what the day has meant to him.

"I love you so much, Shane."

Shane presses a kiss to his chest, right over his heart, then another to his lips.

"I love you too, Ilya." He settles his head back down on Ilya's chest and they lie there in comfortable silence for a few moments before Shane speaks up again. "So that's a yes on the ear tugging?"

Ilya laughs.

"That's a yes on the ear tugging."

[my-castles-crumbling]

boyfriend - hollanov - @hollanovmicrofic - word count: 434 - click here for my hollanov microfic archive on ao3

“You should know something…”

They’re laying in Shane’s bed, the sun slowly disappearing behind the trees outside, their legs intertwined. Shane’s never felt more relaxed in his entire life.

Or…that was how he had been feeling a second ago. Until Ilya said that.

“What?” he asks suspiciously, sitting up and rolling to half lay on top of Ilya, his stomach bubbling with anxiety a little.

“Relax, Hollander,” Ilya chides him, reading his mood instantly. “I am not confessing to murder. Just…you should know. I have never been a boyfriend before. I will maybe be awful at it. Maybe first time ever I suck at something.”

Shane blinks, sensing Ilya’s underlying nerves. But also, he has to enjoy the fact that, for the first time, he has the upper hand in something that has to do with them. 

And he has to, of course, fuck with Ilya about it. “It’s okay,” he says lightly, keeping his face neutral. “I’ll help you out. I know what I’m doing.”

This has exactly the effect he intends. A grumbling Ilya flipping them in the bed so Shane is suddenly pinned, gasping a little, biting back a smile as the other man glares down at him, a mixture of confusion and jealousy settles on his face. “You mean because of Rose Landry? Or you have other–?”

“I’ve had a couple girlfriends, yeah,” he answers, forcing himself to be calm even through his amusement. “Y’know, in high school and stuff.”

Pouting.

Ilya Rozanov is pouting. 

“What did you do with them? You–how long was it for?” Ilya demands, obviously trying and failing to simply sound curious rather than desperate.

And this is why Shane’s not embarrassed when he says, “Well, the one that lasted the longest was this girl named Michelle. We, uh, dated a few months. Fucked once or twice. And I was a total dick to her because I broke up with her right after I got drafted. See, I met this guy in the hotel gym that night and couldn’t stop thinking of him after that, so…”

Finally, Ilya relaxes on top of him, his expression turning sheepish. “Oh.”

“Oh,” Shane repeats, smirking. 

“Poor Michelle. You are terrible boyfriend, Hollander, maybe I should be worried,” Ilya grins, leaning to kiss his jaw.

“Oh shut up, you were jealous as fuck two seconds ago. Plus, it doesn’t matter. I am the more experienced one here, you can’t den–”

But Shane is cut off by a smirking Ilya grinding their hips together and making him gasp, effectively stopping their conversation completely as Shane gasps.

Yeah. Maybe it doesn’t matter.