Lalssss



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    “Uh,” he says, looking up from his screen and feeling his ears go hot, realizing for the first time that this habit of his hasn’t actually come up before until this exact moment.

    “What?” Rozanov asks, sounding more amused than anything else. “You are one of the people who does Instagram for food now?”

    “No,” Shane says, stalling between answering and finishing his Snap so he can send it to Melissa, “one sec.” He finishes typing out 'Tuna melt. Chips. Pickles. It smells really good. Swiss cheese, I think.' before he looks back to Rozanov, putting his phone facedown on the coffee table. “Just sending it to someone on the staff. She likes knowing what I’m eating.”

    He doesn’t know if Melissa likes knowing what he’s eating, per se, but she also seems pleased when he talks about enjoying food for things beyond how many grams of protein it has in it.

    “Ah,” Rozanov says, in a tone Shane can’t quite read. “You always send her your food then, this girl?”

    (shane has a habit of sending his team's dietician his meals for approval) (the problem with this habit? he forgets to tell ilya exactly what it is that melissa does) (how the tuna meltdown is AVERTED through the power of miscommunication)

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    02 Jul 2026

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    Cassie:

    btw jane now that ilya is captain this means you’re officially Head WAG 💁🏻‍♀️

    Jane:

    what?

    oh nononono that's not necessary

    Selena:

    sorry girl it's not really a choice

    Or, Ilya tells the Ottawa Centaurs about Jane

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    01 Jul 2026

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    Shane: Why is Melissa from the Raiders Foundation texting me?
    Shane: Ilya
    Shane: What did you do

    Ilya: ah
    Ilya: you are wag now yes?

    Shane: Ilya

    Ilya: i gave your number to hammersmith’s wife
    Ilya: she thinks i need help with the charity basket
    Ilya: and you know all my favorite things

    With Shane's new WAG status comes new responsibilities. Particularly with the Boston Raiders Foundation.

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    11 Jun 2026

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    “You are planning to rob me or what?” He hears Rozanov call, and he can’t help but smile slightly even as he rolls his eyes, closing the door to the linen closet and feeling strangely lighter than when he opened it, reassured that he’s just trying to read into a blank page, that today doesn’t mean anything more than Rozanov doesn’t mind him being around, which is strangely flattering.

    “I don’t know,” he calls back. “Don’t Russians like diamonds and fur and stuff? Where should I start looking if I want to know what my options are?”

    He hears Rozanov laugh, and it makes him smile.

    When he joins him in the living room once more, Rozanov tugs him down to lean against him again. Shane goes easier this time, settling into it, knowing it doesn’t mean anything other than the fact that he just happens to be the closest warm body, the person on Rozanov’s roster who filled today’s slot.

    (the tuna meltdown doesn't happen) (this does not mean they get ANY better at communication)

    (or: how shane didn't realize he had a boyfriend for several months)

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    11 May 2026

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    Sochi Olympics, 2014.

    "MASSIVE ICLOUD HACK REVEALS PRIVATE PHOTOS, MESSAGES, VIDEOS OF HUNDREDS OF OLYMPIC ATHLETES"

    Ilya feels a trickle of unease down his spine. He shakes it off impatiently as he clicks on the article.

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    07 May 2026