Bunnz3



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    “Uh, hello,” Ilya says when the cat rises up on its legs and stretches, back bending and paws curling down. Its ears flick and it gives him a dour sort of mwor in return. Witches have familiars, Ilya knows that. And this is a perfect spot for a familiar to be, on the stoop of the witch's house. Logic follows that the cat must be the witch's familiar.

    So he says, very politely, “Shane is expecting us,” even though he has no idea if that’s true or not.

    The cat yawns, tiny sharp teeth flashing at Ilya. Its ears flick again and then it curls up into a ball of fur, right there on the brick wall despite the fact that they’re hurtling towards the end of November and it’s fucking freezing outside.

    “Is that good or bad, do you think,” Ilya asks Seryozha in Russian, gesturing at the cat when the familiar doesn’t move again except to curl its tail over the tip of its pink nose.

    Seryozha’s phone screen flashes white in the darkness. That is a cat, he types, and Ilya scowls. It’s a fucking magical cat.

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    09 Jun 2026

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    Taking the call off speaker-phone and pushing his glasses up on the crown of his head, David cleared his throat and asked, “Sorry, who is this?” with a furrowed brow and a hand on his hip.

    It was silent between the two of them for almost a minute, but David could hear vague sounds of movement on the other side of the call.

    “Um. I am a friend. Shane’s friend,” the other man answered with a thin tone, before asking, “Who are you?” He throws the word ‘you’ at David like an accusation.

    David couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m Shane’s dad.”

    He followed his answer up with, “I’ve been listening to you talk to my son in what sounds like Russian for the last ten minutes, uh…” David pulls back the phone to check the name again, just in case he had somehow misread the contact. Nope. He didn’t. “Lily?”

    ----

    Or, after Shane, high-on-painkillers, calls Ilya in the hospital and falls asleep shortly after, David shows up and gets to chat with whoever Lily is. David is confused, to say the least.

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    08 Jun 2026

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    “Hey Siri, call Lily.” After a pause, “Hey Siri, put it on speaker,” was the next slurred command to come from the concussed hockey star.

    All Andrea could do was watch in a state of both fascination and horror as the call was picked up after two rings.

    “Shane? Are you okay?”

    “Ilyyaaa! It’s your voice! How did they do that?” Shane looked at the device in awe.

    Ilya’s confusion and genuine concern was audible. “What? Shane, what do you mean?”

    “Ah!” Shane exclaimed, giggling into his hands. “Hi!” He looked up, then in a stage whisper, he said, “my nurse is still here. So be quiiiiiiiet.”

    _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

    Or, Shane gets ahold of his phone and calls Ilya while under the influence of his pain meds. And of course, he calls Ilya.

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    08 Jun 2026

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    Ilya laughs. He finds that once he starts, he can't stop. He laughs at the fact that he's in France with Shane Hollander. He laughs at the fact he's Shane Hollander's boyfriend. He laughs at the fact that he gave up Moscow for a better life, only to end up in fucking Ottawa. 

    Ilya's dick stops working one month before he's supposed to leave for the South of France. 

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    06 Jun 2026

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    Alternate Title: Shane Hollander: Stanley Cup Winner, Accidental Dog Sitter

    Shane: Is this Ilya Rozanov?
    Unknown number: no
    Shane: Oh, but the dog collar had this number.
    Unknown Number: What? What dog collar? What are you talking about?
    Shane: I'm Shane Hollander.
    Shane: I have your dog.
    Unknown Number: Is this ransom threat?
    Unknown Number: Did you kidnap my dog?

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    05 Jun 2026

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