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    “Hi,” Luca says, apologetic. “Sorry I’m late.”

    Ilya turns his head, then blinks. Shane follows his line of sight, expression shifting.

    There’s a sharp line of eyeliner across Luca’s waterline, smeared a little on the bottom. Under the lighting, the minuscule amount of white glitter dabbed at the corner and bottom of eyes twinkles. His shirt is tightly fit, a little sheer, cut off just above his black pants. There’s a line of skin between his shirt and pants, the smallest peek of a thin, black tattoo visible on his hip. Silver glints: there’s a bout of jewelry scattered across his body— earrings, a plastic Casio watch, a necklace hanging from his neck.

    “You look like you could ruin someone’s life,” LaPointe blurts out.

     

    or: 5 times Luca Haas surprises Shane and Ilya (& the Centaurs) + 1 time they surprise him back

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    English
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    Chapters:
    6/6
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    07 Jul 2026

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    “Haas,” Ilya says. His tone light, conversational. “He had a good game.”

    “Are you seriously talking about Haas right now?”

    The sting is taken out of Shane’s words by how breathlessly he says them, but he still has that cute scrunched-up frown that Ilya loves so much.

    “He’s a good kid,” Ilya says. “Very pretty.”

    “Fuck off,” Shane snaps. But Ilya just presses deeper into him, the answering gasp as familiar as if it came from his own lungs.

    “You don’t think so? I saw you doing yoga together. Seemed like you were...” Ilya searches for the words. When he finds them, grins. “Admiring his form.”

    OR

    Breaking my silence to say that I think Hollanov would have a threesome and they'd have it with Luca Haas. But don't worry, they're obviously jealous and possessive and insane about it the whole time.

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    06 Jul 2026

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    “I did something stupid,” Shane confesses, inhaling rapidly. He's still crying, still frozen in the doorway, besides his hitching chest and watering eyes. Hayden's never seen him like this, overtaken with emotion, bitter exhaustion in his voice. He makes a soft choked noise, and Hayden immediately wants to kill something, whatever it is that's making him feel so awful. “I—Hayds—you're gonna hate me—”

    “No,” Hayden says before he can even finish the thought, almost hurt by the accusation. “No way. You're—I wouldn't. I won't.”

    Shane sniffs, offering him a sad smile, his eyes watery and solemn. It's an unfamiliar look, burnt through with sorrow and twisting doubt, sharp worry in the furrow of his brow. “You are,” he says, soft and certain. “I do, and I'm the one who's doing it.”

    OR: Shane returns to the hotel room, post-tuna melt. Hayden spirals.

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    06 Jul 2026

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    05 Jul 2026

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    His mother’s eyes darken with weariness Shane recognizes instinctually, a grief separate but not wholly unlike his own. A tear makes its way down her cheek, but Shane’s stay put, stubborn, cradled in his lashline like if he doesn’t cry, maybe none of this is as bad as he thinks it is.

    “Just—I just have to ask,” she says. Her voice lowers to a whisper, that ever-steady corner of her mouth wavering as her palm envelopes his cheek. “How long have you been hurting?”

    My whole life, probably, Shane thinks. I'm sorry. I just didn’t know.

    --

    [Or: Shane learns that skill, passion, and meticulous control aren't necessarily immunity, and that rest isn't something he's owed so much as he has to carve out for himself; sometimes with a whisper, sometimes with his pride on the line, sometimes on his hands and knees. And still, regardless, despite—he refuses to give up on this either, even if this time it means believing in himself instead of familiar schedules or rituals. Even if it means his whole life has to change to do it.

    Even if it means having to believe that he's worth that much in the first place.]

    Series
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    English
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    3/6
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    30 Jun 2026

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