aeternamutans



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    Shane Hollander is the number two overall NHL draft pick and a newly minted Montreal Voyageur. He’s also laser focused on his goals: being the best by beating the best. For him, this means a continued rivalry with number one draft pick—and new Ottawa Centaur—Ilya Rozanov. But when a problem with Rozanov’s immigration paperwork threatens his future in the NHL, what does that mean for Shane’s own career? He can’t risk finding out…so they get married. Just for immigration. A fast, practical, mutually beneficial solution.

    No one will ever suspect, let alone find out, that the NHL’s greatest rivals are secretly married. And there’s certainly no risk of feelings getting involved. They have a game plan.

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    01 Jan 2026

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    “Is a shame,” Rozanov continued with a humorless laugh. “Last time I play you was last night and I did not win. I would have beat you next time.”

    Next time. Which they maybe wouldn’t have? Shane couldn't believe it. Not a player like Roznaov. The league would move heaven and earth for him. "Come on, Rozanov, there's no way they're going to, what? Send the first draft pick and 2008 Junior Champion back to Russia? It wouldn’t exactly look good for the NHL."

    But Rozanov said nothing. Shane was kind of starting to panic. “This is so stupid,” he fumed, pulling his knees to his chest. “Fuck, my friend Monica married an Australian, and all he had to do to get a work permit was show his marriage certificate at the border.”

    It was Rozanov’s turn to be quiet, and when Shane dared to look over, he found him looking back intently. Very intently. He could almost see the thought forming in Rozanov’s eyes.

    “No. Oh no, I know that look. No, Rozanov.”

    “Shane Hollander.” Rozanov’s voice rolled across the words in a considering way that left goosebumps behind on Shane’s skin. “You are not stupid.”

    Shane rolled his eyes. “Wow, even when you want something you’re a real charmer.”

    “Okay at hockey,” Rozanov continued. “Pretty to look at.” Shane couldn’t help but flush at that. “Responsible. Good husband.” Shane didn’t know what the criteria for that were, but he hoped his heart wasn’t hammering so loudly that Rozanov could hear it. What was even happening right now?

    “Very boring, though,” Rozanov added, just in time.

    “Shut up,” Shane huffed, and Rozanov did, but only to hoist himself up from the floor with a graceful flex Shane was absolutely ignoring and then drop to one knee, looking infuriatingly smug.

    “Shane Hollander, you are the least interesting man on earth but still useful, I think. You should marry me so I can keep beating you at hockey.”

    “You wish,” Shane scoffed, though his heart was pounding. Fake though it was, this was technically his first proposal, so he thought he could be forgiven for that.

    “Yes.”

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    Rozanov cocked his head. “You speak Russian? Or just the curse words?”

    “Yes, I speak Russian,” he snapped, defensive and angry. He knew that it had been a mistake to even try to be friendly with Rozanov. “Why? Do I not look Russian to you?” He scoffed.

    “No, not really,” Rozanov said. Some of his teammates laughed, although they mostly looked surprised that Shane was speaking to them at all. Rozanov didn’t laugh, though. “Are you Russian?”

    “Go fuck yourself.”

    +++

    Despite an inauspicious start, when Russia’s Ilya Rozanov learns that Canada’s Shane Hollander is fluent in Russian at their first World Junior Championships tournament, it changes everything and sets them on a different course. Instead of being branded as rivals from the very beginning, Ilya and Shane start off as friends.

    And, after all, a little friendly rivalry never hurt anyone, did it?

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    31 Dec 2025

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    Rozanov snorted. “Why the fuck were you trying to talk to me in English? You should know better, Hollander—they say you’re the smartest hockey player in the Championships right now. You should have known better.”
    This triggered another wave of anger, and Shane scoffed, loud and hard, taking a step back. Rozanov didn’t even know what he was saying, didn’t know how microaggressive he was being, because he didn’t need to know. His team was entirely white, and no one on it was going to call him out. Hockey was, in general, a very white sport. The World Junior Championships even more so. Japan was the only country outside of Europe, other than Canada and America, that had ever made it into the Top Division, and that had been in the early nineties.
    Shane, truly, was sick to death of hearing how fucking smart he was.
    “I don’t like it when people assume I can’t speak English,” Shane said, short and angry, even though the real answer was that he had heard Rozanov speaking to some local reporters in English earlier and figured that he was fluent or wanted to practice. “I was trying to afford you the same respect. My mistake. See you on the ice, Rozanov.”
    He turned and walked away to some laughter from the other Russians, and Shane knew his shoulders were around his ears.
    (...)
    “Who hit me? Was it fucking Boiziau? Did we win anyway?”

    “No one won yet. The game isn’t over.” He didn’t need to mention that Montreal had been up by one.

    Ilya blinked. He strained to look at Shane’s face, lying flat on his back in the neck brace. The ambulance doors slammed, and they were off. “Why are you here then?”

    “You needed me.”

    Ilya’s fingers trembled, then squeezed tight enough on Shane’s wrist that he could feel the bones grinding against each other. “Always,” Ilya said. “Moya lyubov.”

    Shane gasped. He looked up, frantic. There were two EMTs crowded in the back of the ambulance with them. One was studiously looking at the medical equipment he was attaching to Ilya’s gurney, but the other was frozen, staring at Ilya’s hand on Shane’s wrist.

    Did she know Russian? Shane wanted to grab her and shake, demanding an answer.

    “Moya lyubov?” Ilya repeated. “Where did you go?”

    Shane breathed. “Nowhere,” he said, and the EMT looked away respectfully. “Nowhere, lyubimyy. I’m right here.”

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    "You're supposed to smoke over there." Someone said from behind Ilya.

    Ilya almost dropped his cigarette. His English was shitty, but he had studied that sentence enough times over the years to understand it immediately. He didn't even think about his words much anymore, but it was impossible to avoid them.

    He turned instinctively, and was face to face with Shane fucking Hollander.

    Out of almost seven billion people, of course Ilya's soulmate had to be his fated rival. It was almost poetic. Still, Ilya had enough sense to realize just how bad this was.

    or, Shane says Ilya's soulmate words. Ilya vows to never speak a word to him to keep him from finding out. They fall in love anyway.

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    31 Dec 2025

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    "You're, like, a repression expert. It's not just a river in Egypt, or whatever they say." She giggled again. She was definitely drunk. Shane wasn't too far behind her. They'd had a lot of wine.

    "I'm so sorry." Their waitress stuck her head into the room again. "We're closing in ten minutes. I have your bill with me now."

    After some light shoving, Shane handed her his credit card and told her to pay for the whole thing. It was the least he could do after accidentally leading Rose on.

    Rose was unsteady on her feet as they left the restaurant. Shane wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her from falling.

    He knew they were going to be friends. Close friends, hopefully. He liked being in her company so much, and now, she knew more about him than anyone else on the planet.

    When her cab pulled up, she pressed a kiss to Shane's cheek. "It'll work itself out."

    "I know."

    "Besides," She looked up at him with a grin as she lowered herself into the backseat, "maybe I'll meet my soulmate at your wedding."

    Shane rolled his eyes. Wouldn't that be something?

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    Shane would always be yearning for something with a man who didn't want him, wouldn't he? A little positive attention and he'd folded like origami. Pathetic.

    "Stay," Rozanov said. It sounded like pleading. That trick had worked on him, once.

    “Why?" Shane's tone was more biting than he intended. "What do you think is going to happen if I stay? Are you gonna make me a goddamned tuna melt?”

    Rozanov, to his credit, took the words like the blow they were. His eyes widened, then he covered his face with his palms and muttered something in Russian.

    Shane had never seen shame written across those features before.

    In April 2017, Shane Hollander suffers the most painful not-breakup he’ll ever experience. Months later, he's outed. Two years after that, a broken knee ends his career.

    When Rozanov unexpectedly crosses Shane's path four years later, Shane resolves to be courteous yet keep his distance. But Ilya is just as beautiful and charming as he ever was, and he’s determined to give what they'd once shared a second chance. A real chance.

    It's a bad idea. Shane knows it's a bad idea.

    The terrifying thing is that it doesn't feel like one.

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    23 Dec 2025

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    Ch 8

    It would've been so nice. Why did Ilya say no? Yes, Shane logically knew why: this entire thing between them was stupid and ridiculous and doomed from the beginning. But Shane had thought, had truly believed that Ilya would be willing to take a risk on him. Shane had always been the careful one, Ilya was supposed to be laissez-faire. If Shane was willing to put it all on the line so they could be together, if what had grown between them had become too big and wonderful and good for him to deny, he'd thought for sure…

    Whatever, it didn't matter. Shane cut off his little daydreaming session; it was the only one he'd be permitting himself this summer. He let himself think about it, he wasn't bottling up his feelings, and now he was done.

    Shane refused to agonize over a man who didn't want him.

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    Where the Florida hotel room never happened. Ilya is deeply in denial, Shane is confused but trying, and the All-Star Game throws them back into each other’s orbit. There’s hockey, unresolved feelings, and a Hanahaki illness that refuses to mind its business.

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    30 Dec 2025

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