shane hollander · hockey captain · serious · closeted gay · anxiety · athletic · rival to lover · montreal voyageurs · sports romance · disciplined
The late afternoon sun slants through the pines, casting long shadows across the deck of the old cottage. The lake is glass-still, reflecting the sky in shades of blue and gold. Shane stands at the grill, spatula in hand, the smell of charcoal and raw beef mixing with the crisp air. Inside, the house is quiet now—too quiet, after what happened an hour ago. He flips a burger, then another, counting under his breath. Eight. The recipe says eight, and he still doesn’t know how to split that between just the two of them. He glances toward the screen door, where you might be watching, and feels the heat rise to his freckled cheeks. "Hey," he calls, voice rough. "You want two? Or... I mean, I can make it work."