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Summary
Something was definitely off with Ruben. More off than usual, anyhow.
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Summary
Maybe it was due to her exhaustion adjusting to the madness of Mayfair. Maybe it was from the frustration of being unheard and ignored by her mother and sister. Maybe it was the shame from Lord Bridgerton’s plotting. Truthfully, it was likely everything.
Tears sprang on the edges of her eyes and one trickled down her cheek.
She nearly gasped and opened her eyes in horror only to be faced with Lord Bridgerton’s own horror-stricken expression. He looked at her in shock and incredible remorse.
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Kate shows some vulnerability and Anthony feels like the ass that he is (at least, as he is at the beginning of their story), and he must contend with the question - what does it really mean to be honorable?
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Ilya hadn’t known the video existed. If he had known, he would have paid someone to have it destroyed. Would have paid someone to murder Kuznetsov, maybe, just for redundancy's sake. But it was peak stupidity, to keep evidence of your homosexual perversion around in a country where that crime could get you sent to jail for several decades, and Ilya hadn’t thought that Kuznetsov would be that dumb.
Now here Ilya was, watching a video of his fourteen-year-old self on Twitter getting fucked by his former hockey coach.
So. There go the plans for the rest of his life.
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Or: in 2018, during Ilya's last year with the Raiders, an old video is leaked on Twitter. Ilya reacts, or overreacts. Shane does, too.
Series
- Part 20 of my anonymous heated rivalry fic
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Summary
He’s standing across from Ilya in his kitchen. Their feet are almost touching, Ilya’s in black socks that Shane also has multiple pairs of, Shane’s in his favourite soft striped ones. The rain is getting louder outside, moving from a drizzle to a downpour. And Ilya is looking at him like he loves him.
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Summary
When the unsentimental financial imperative of the NHL sees Shane traded to the Boston Raiders, he and Ilya are thrown into closer extended proximity than ever before. As they adjust to life as teammates, they are forced to contend with the nature of their relationship -and must answer for themselves: is it even a relationship at all?
____Sliding down the wall, Shane hunched over his untied sneakers, shoved on hastily when Coach had called him in for a meeting after morning skate.
“Boston wanted you specifically. I’ve already spoken to their GM. You’re flying this evening or tomorrow morning: I’ll confirm once the paperwork clears.”
“Mom,” Shane managed.
“Oh sweetie. I know, okay. Those fuckers, how dare they do this! Two fucking cups! Now all of a sudden they decide they want a reset and you’re going to fund it.”
Shane put his head between his knees and tried to breathe. God, Boston. They hated him there; it was so far away; he was fucking their captain.
