Chapter Text
Shane was overwhelmed with mixed feelings as he drove home at the end of the workday. Being near Ilya was a moral paradox for him. The more he desired him, the more he remembered why he shouldn't.
That moment on the ice was one of the most fun things Shane had done in months; he almost felt comfortable with his little imperfection. And he was almost accepting as inevitable the desire he had to taste Rozanov's lips—anyone would feel that way when he smiled in that mischievous yet sincere way, right?
But he would overcome that feeling that night, being fucked by a hot stranger he was sure to meet for a fun night. And with that in mind, he didn't reject Rose's plan, which was to choose a nightclub instead of a bar. Shane thought it would be even easier; a place with music loud enough that he wouldn't have to waste time with pre-sex small talk would do, even if it was a little challenging for his sensory sensibilities.
Rose arrived at Shane's house at 9:35 p.m. in a state of ecstasy, and like a hurricane she stormed through his wardrobe trying to find an outfit suggestive enough for her plans.
"You need to go shopping urgently."
"I have clothes."
"All your clothes are for work or for working out."
"That's where I wear them."
"You need clothes that make guys want to rip them off you."
"Since my clothes are so awful, I don't think that'll be a problem, they might even want to burn them."
Shane took a white t-shirt off a hanger and put it on.
"My God, you're so basic," Rose sighed. "At least I can see your nipples, it'll do."
"Can you see through them? Should I change?"
"No, Shane, your chest is one of your best assets, if you weren't so square I'd expose you to the world shirtless and covered in oil."
"You're gross." Shane put a jacket over his shirt.
"You're boring," she sighed.
In the back of the Uber, Shane barely heard what Rose was saying; he could only think about how his night would end. His body burned with anticipation; he desperately needed to be touched and taken away from his mind, because it was filled with work and Ilya Rozanov.
The club was exactly what he expected it to be, and Shane ignored every reason why he didn't frequent places like that. He tried to dance a little, but it wasn't long before the small cluster of bodies around began to bother him.
"Is it just me or is it hot in here?" he asked.
"Do you have anyone in mind?" Rose spoke loudly enough for Shane to hear her over the music.
He looked around once more; there were a few interesting guys he'd already noticed, but only one was looking in their direction.
"Is that guy looking at me or at you?"
Rose looked in the direction Shane had mentioned, and the man staring smiled.
"He's handsome."
"He's flirting with you right in front of me."
"So?"
"I could be your boyfriend."
"Shane, look around. If you were my boyfriend, there wouldn't be enough room to accommodate a grown human being between the two of us."
"Does he think I'm gay?"
"You are gay."
"Exactly, but can people tell just by looking?"
"You dance really badly, maybe they'll think you're straight."
"Fuck you. He's coming this way..." Shane managed to say before the man reached them.
"Hi."
"Hi," Rose replied, Shane just nodded.
"Do you want to dance?"
"I'm already dancing," Rose said laughing. "I guess the question is, do you want to join us?"
"Sure."
"Actually, I'm going to get a drink," Shane said, trying to make space for the two, but before leaving he turned to the man again. "Hey, can I ask you a question?"
"Yeah."
"Do I look gay to you?"
The man blinked, astonished. "I don't know the right answer to that."
"What made you think we weren't together?"
"Shane..." Rose tried to intervene.
"Well, you were with the prettiest woman here, but you kept looking around, I thought you two weren't a couple. Are you?"
"No."
"Oh, great," the man smiled, patting Shane on the shoulder. "Because I'm not into men, no offense, you're a very handsome guy."
Shane leaned towards Rose and whispered in her ear, "That's your man."
He nodded to the man and then made his way towards the bar, not without being slightly squeezed by lightly intoxicated people along the way. Shane took off his jacket when he reached the bar and was about to order a drink when he saw Ilya leaning slightly over the counter a little further ahead. This could only be a nightmare.
Shane passed a few more people and finally caught up with him, giving him a tap on the shoulder to turn around.
"Hollander?" Rozanov looked confused, as if Shane was the last person he expected to see, and perhaps he was.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
"The same as you," Ilya shrugged. Shane genuinely hoped not.
"I can't believe this is happening."
Shane searched for Rose in the sea of bodies on the dance floor, but she seemed too far away. So he sent a message.
Shane: I had a little mishap, I need to leave, will you stay?
Rose: Is everything alright?
Shane: Yes, I'll explain better later.
Rose: I'll stay then.
Shane: Okay, share your location so I can know where you are.
Rose: Okay, Mom.
Shane: 🖕🏻
Rose shared a real-time location.
"Let's get out of here," Shane said to Ilya, who was still looking at him as if he were a ghost.
"But I just got here."
"Now."
"Fine," Ilya huffed, grabbing the bottle from the counter.
"Give me that crap," Shane snatched the bottle from his hand.
"It's really good vodka, actually," Ilya retorted.
"You're unbelievable."
It took them about two minutes to reach the sidewalk. The cold night wind touched Shane's skin, and he felt relieved to leave that dark and noisy place.
"I'll call an Uber."
"I came by car," Ilya grumbled.
"You drove all the way here and bought a bottle of vodka?"
Ilya shrugged. "I didn't think it through."
"Of course you didn't," Shane wanted to strangle him. "And where's your car?"
Ilya nodded, and the two walked silently over. Shane held out his hand, and Ilya handed him the keys.
"At least you didn't come in that orange monstrosity."
"Hey, it's a great car," Ilya snorted. "And of course I wasn't going to come in it; I was trying to be discreet."
"Oh, fuck off, Rozanov," Shane got into the car furiously.
Ilya sat in the passenger seat and watched Shane put on his seatbelt and take a few deep breaths.
"Sorry to ruin your night."
"I probably need new clothes anyway," Shane grumbled. "Even you look gayer than me."
Ilya looked at his own shirt with a somewhat questionable print. "It's not gay, it's European."
"Sure," Shane chuckled softly. "Put on your seatbelt."
Ilya fastened his seatbelt and then reached for the bottle in Shane's lap. He drank straight from the bottle without the slightest ceremony. Shane grimaced at the sight.
"Why did you come here?"
"I couldn't sleep," Ilya said as if that were reason enough.
"Couldn't you have watched a movie like most people do?"
"Sorry," he said defeatedly. "That house is too big."
"I thought you liked it."
"I do," Ilya said. "During the day, not at night. Nights weren't made to be spent alone."
Shane thought about it; he never minded being alone, in fact, he liked it, and he thought everyone else did too. At least a little.
"You could have called me."
Ilya looked at him with an amused expression. "You would have spent the night with me instead of going to the club?"
Shane shrugged. "You're fun, when you're not being annoying."
"I think you like it when I'm annoying."
Shane couldn't help but smile. Rozanov couldn't help but flirt with people; it was natural for him. He'd probably slept with half the female population of North America without much effort.
"Did you come alone?" Ilya asked after a while.
"No, with a friend."
"Oh. OH."
"No, nothing like that, a female friend." Shane clarified.
"Oh, and you left her there?"
"I didn't leave her, she met someone, she'll be fine."
"And you?"
"What about me?"
"Did you meet someone too?"
"Ah, no, not tonight."
"Hmm," Ilya looked at the road again. "That's not the way to my house."
"We're not going to your house, we're going to mine, so I know you won't run away as soon as I turn my back."
Ilya nodded as if he really would do that the minute he was alone again.
🏒❤️🎬
Ilya couldn't remember feeling this nervous in a long time; he couldn't believe he was at Shane's house, maybe that's why he was a little dizzy. Well, maybe that, or maybe it was because he'd already drunk half a bottle of vodka without having eaten a decent meal all day.
"Are you okay?" Shane asked as they got out of the car.
Ilya kept his eyes closed, hoping the world would stop spinning so fast.
"Sure." The entrance to the house had three small steps where Ilya lost his balance; Shane supported him with his hand on one of his elbows.
"Jesus, you're drunk."
"Don't be ridiculous, Hollander, I'm not drunk."
"Then what is it? Labyrinthitis?"
"I just need a candy."
"I don't have any candies here, I'm on a diet."
"That's depressing."
Ilya followed Shane into the house, leaving his shoes by the door. Everything was meticulously tidy, as he expected, but Shane's house, unlike his own, didn't look like it came straight out of a catalog. Perhaps it looked more like something one could call home.
"Sit down," Shane indicated the sofa after turning on the lamps. "Are you feeling anything?"
"Just a little dizzy, it'll pass."
"Did you eat anything before you got drunk on vodka?"
"God, Hollander, you sound exactly like Hannah."
"She's not here, someone has to fill that role."
"You don't really need to."
"You know, I think I do," Shane said, getting annoyed again. "You came pretty close to ruining things today, and I'm not going to let that happen."
"Hmm," Ilya huffed. He loved having Shane's attention, but he didn't want to be a burden.
"Did you eat or not?"
Ilya shrugged, making Shane even more irritated.
"You know what, you're going to take a shower while I prepare something."
"I already showered."
"I don't care, would you rather I drown you in the sink?"
"What's wrong with you today?"
Shane seemed more stressed than he should have been by Ilya's little slip-up. Could it have been a catastrophe? Of course it could have, but everything had gone well, they were safe now.
"Several things, and also nothing. The towels are in the sink cabinet," Shane gestured to the door.
"Okay," Ilya reluctantly stood up.
"Leave the door unlocked."
"Why? Are you going to join me?" Rozanov asked with a wide smile.
"What?"
"Maybe I need you to scrub my back."
"Haven't you ever heard that you shouldn't annoy the person who prepares your food?"
"You're right," Ilya went over to Shane and gave him a loud kiss on the cheek. "Please, don't spit in my food."
"Go fuck yourself," Shane said, pushing him away, but his cheeks were flushed. "But seriously, don't lock the door, I don't want to have to break it down if you fall and hit your head inside."
"Okay, Hollander."
Ilya observed the bathroom around him, as bland as one would expect from a guest bathroom. He would love to peek into Shane's private bathroom; was he the type of person who had a soap for every part of his body or more of a two-in-one shampoo type?
He didn't know if he had stayed in the shower too long or if the effect of the alcohol was distorting his perception of reality, but when he got out of the shower there was a pot on the stove that smelled very good.
"What's that?" Ilya said, returning to the kitchen in just a towel.
"Yakisoba," Shane said, finally turning around. "Jesus Christ, where are your clothes?"
"Relax, Hollander, it's not like I'm naked," but it was almost, and Ilya knew it. He made sure his obliques were perfectly visible when he adjusted the towel, even though he was wearing underwear underneath. "And those clothes aren't comfortable for sleeping. If you want to have a pajama party, you'll have to get me some appropriate clothes for it."
"Okay," Shane said, blinking nervously while trying to avoid looking at Ilya. "And this isn't a pajama party."
He hurried into the room, and Rozanov followed him excitedly like a dog after its owner. He leaned against the door frame while Shane rummaged in a drawer. He spotted a picture frame on the bedside table; Shane was embracing a man and a woman, both older and very beautiful. Ilya dared to be a little bolder and entered Shane's room. With the picture frame in hand, he asked:
"Are those your parents?"
"Yes."
How Shane could resemble his father and not resemble him at all at the same time was a mystery to Ilya, but he was a perfect blend of the two, only the best parts selected solely to make him the epitome of beauty that he was. Even there, with his eyes wide with nervousness before Rozanov, he was still disconcertingly and utterly delicious.
"Here you go," Shane handed Ilya a pair of sweatpants and a cotton t-shirt, who returned the picture frame to its place. "Thank you," he said, picking up the clothes with one hand while removing the towel with the other.
"Oh my God, could you please stop being naked in my house?" Shane covered his eyes with his hand.
"I'm not naked, I'm in my underwear, if you were looking you would have seen," Ilya grumbled as if there really was a chasm between the two situations. He was used to being naked in front of others in locker rooms, and he knew Hollander had been too, but this was different. He was taking a chance; he wasn't sure if Shane wanted him too, but he needed to try.
"No, thank you," Shane said, leaving the room. "And get that towel off my bed before I kill you."
Ilya put on his clothes with a smile on his lips; something in the man's nervousness told him he wasn't imagining things on his own.
🏒❤️🎬
Shane found himself sitting on the couch watching The Silver Linings Playbook while Ilya ate, hugging the bowl as if it were the best meal of his life.
"Are you sure you don't want some?" Ilya offered for the third time, and Shane was getting closer and closer to accepting because it looked really good.
"It's kind of late to eat something like this," he grumbled.
"Then why did you make it for me?"
"It's a complete, quick meal, and I had all the ingredients."
"At least try it, just a little won't kill you, and tomorrow you can go back to your awful food."
"It's not awful, and you should try it, it might be good for you," said Shane, taking the bowl from Ilya's hands and eating a little; it was really good.
"I have a perfectly balanced diet prescribed by a nutritionist, but my food doesn't kill my will to live like your bland, tasteless chicken does."
"Go fuck yourself," Shane muttered with his mouth full. He handed the bowl back to Rozanov and they went back to watching the movie.
"What a bitch," Ilya muttered about Julia Stiles' character. "I like her better in 10 Things I Hate About You."
Shane laughed. "You've seen that movie?"
"It's a classic, Hollander, and it has Heath Ledger."
"You liked him?"
"Of course, I've seen all his movies."
"Even Brokeback Mountain?"
"Only once. It's the saddest movie in the world."
Ilya seemed sincere when he said that; perhaps he was a little more sensitive than Shane expected.
"I cried for a week after watching it without my parents knowing," Shane confessed.
"It's not a movie for teenagers," Ilya said sympathetically, looking at him.
"I found out the hard way," Shane chuckled weakly. "Good thing things have changed."
"Not enough, and not for everyone."
Shane looked at Ilya, his jaw clenched as he stared at the TV screen, but didn't seem to be really seeing anything.
"It must be really hard in Russia, for queer people, I mean..."
"It is," Ilya said quietly.
"I'm very lucky, it's not like Canada is perfect, but at least we have our rights and well," Shane shrugged. "Even some of the prejudiced people don't like to admit they're prejudiced."
"Do you think it might be different? Here in Ottawa, I mean, in the locker room," Ilya looked at him with genuine doubt and a little hope. "Are the players less homophobic than in the rest of the league?"
"You mean because of Harris?"
"Yeah, he speaks so highly of the team, I don't know how he'd be treated if he worked for the Raiders, but probably not as well."
"I didn't have a good experience with locker rooms here, but I was very young and teenagers can be very cruel."
"Yeah."
"But I really think it might be different for you." Ilya looked at him a little surprised, as if expecting Shane to say something more, but he didn't, instead turning back to the TV.
By this time Pat and Tiffany were having dinner at her sister's house.
"God, she's annoying," Ilya huffed.
"Tiffany isn't easy either."
"What do you mean?"
"It's obvious she has issues, grief and all that."
"Yeah, that's why her sister could be a little less of a jerk."
"Of course, but when we're aware of our issues, shouldn't we seek help? It's not like the people in our daily lives know how to help us with clinical problems. They can try, but there's a limit to that."
"Have you been talking to Hannah?"
"What?" Shane frowned.
"Did she tell you something she shouldn't have?" Rozanov asked anxiously.
"Like what?"
"About me or my mother."
Shane took a deep breath. "She did mention it, I'm sorry."
"I'm going to kill her."
"She didn't mean any harm, she just asked me not to ask because you got nervous when I brought up the family subject."
Ilya nodded, but he seemed furious. Shane touched his forearm firmly but gently.
"She didn't tell me any details, she just said that your mother had already passed away, I swear."
"Okay"
"Don't worry, okay? I won't talk about this with anyone."
"Thank you"
Shane was about to pull his hand away when Ilya covered it with his own, holding it there a little longer.
They watched in silence for a while longer until Ilya asked:
"Do you think I should go to therapy?"
"I think everyone should go to therapy," Shane smiled as he said that.
"I'm serious," Ilya looked at him without any trace of the mockery that usually accompanied everything he said.
"I don't want to assume I know you after only a few days, but so much has happened in such a short time, maybe it would do you good to have someone to talk to about it a little."
Ilya nodded and then changed the subject, "This movie is so sad."
Shane felt his eyebrows furrow involuntarily; it was a dramedy, yes, but he found it mostly funny.
"Why?"
"His crazy dad, his idiot brother, how could he possibly improve among those unbalanced people?"
"You have a point."
"And Tiffany spends most of the movie trying to set him up with Nikki, or pretending to try, while she's in love with him. That's torture."
"Okay, you don't like this movie," Shane laughed.
"Why did you choose this one?"
"It has De Niro, and I like Jennifer Lawrence." Shane shrugged. "Do you want to go to sleep?"
"I do."
"Alright, there's a new toothbrush in the bathroom, same cabinet, on another door, you can use it."
"Thanks."
🏒❤️🎬
Rozanov had had a very interesting night with Hollander; perhaps he had talked too much, but Shane made him feel like he could. They were so different, but it was almost comforting how Shane didn't seem to care about that detail.
Shane was still in the shower when Ilya finished brushing his teeth, so he decided to wash the few dishes that were in the sink while he waited.
Being in someone's house who wasn't Marleau or Hannah wasn't exactly something he was used to; he didn't sleep with most of his one-night stands, and when it happened, he knew without a doubt that it would be in bed with that person. Maybe that's why, and only why, he had a strange feeling of butterflies in his stomach.
He waited like a child at Shane's bedroom door when he finally came out of the bathroom (to Ilya's disappointment) fully dressed.
"Hey"
"Hey... You can stay in my bed, I don't have another room, I mean, I do but it's my office and there's no bed there so it's not really a room." Shane cleared his throat while drying his hair with a towel. "Anyway, you can stay, I'll sleep on the couch."
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"There's enough room for both of us here."
"I don't think that's appropriate," Shane said, blushing.
"Am I that irresistible to you?" Rozanov laughed, immensely amused by his nervousness.
"Fuck you."
"Come on, Hollander, we're adults... We don't need to cuddle or anything."
Shane reflected for a moment and nodded. "Okay, turn off the light."
Shane turned on the bedside lamp and Ilya turned off the ceiling light.
They both lay down under the covers, Ilya afraid Shane might hear his heart beating fast. And why? He heard Shane take a few deep breaths before finally turning off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness.
"Good night, Rozanov"
"Night, Hollander"
Ilya stared at the ceiling for long minutes before his vision adjusted; Shane had his back to him. He wondered if he had managed to fall asleep yet when Shane rolled onto his back and sighed, only to turn onto his side again, and then onto his back once more.
Ilya rested his hand flat on Shane's stomach. "Stop moving around so much."
"I can't sleep," Shane confessed.
"Me neither."
"Do you miss your bed?"
"No." Ilya rolled onto his side, looking at Shane, his hand sliding from his abdomen to the space between them. "And you? You're not used to sharing a bed?"
"No, actually not."
"I can sleep on the couch," Ilya said, moving to get up.
"No, no, no," Shane held him by the arm. "It's okay, stay."
Ilya straightened up again on the bed, lying face to face. He and Shane watched each other thanks to the beam of light that entered the room through the gap in the curtain.
Ilya's fingers found Shane's in the middle of the bed, and he could feel his body completely electrified by the most chaste touch he had ever experienced with anyone.
Shane took a deep breath, but didn't remove his hand, and then his thumb slid across Ilya's knuckles.
"What are we doing?" Shane whispered, and even in the dim light Ilya could see him closing his eyes.
"Nothing, we're not doing anything."
"And why doesn't it seem like nothing?"
Ilya extended his free hand, caressing Shane's hair and sliding it across his cheek, until his thumb met his lips.
"This is a terrible idea," Shane whispered as if only to himself.
"What is?"
Then, without further warning, Shane closed the distance between them, pressing their lips together in a short, awkward kiss.
"Sorry, I shouldn't..." Shane tried to say, but Ilya immediately pulled him back, sliding his hand to the nape of Shane's neck and kissing him again, this time more intensely, running his tongue over Shane's lips until Shane let him in.
Shane's hands gripped Ilya's hair as he bit his lips and showered open-mouthed kisses along his jaw and neck, eliciting moans.
Ilya wanted to see him better but feared that if the light came on and Shane saw him, he might come to his senses and regret it, so all he did was fill his other senses with everything he could, unable to stop kissing him and breathing in the scent radiating from his warm skin.
Shane pushed him until his back was pressed against the mattress and mounted him. Okay, so maybe he was as invested in this as Rozanov was.
Shane moved his hips against his, pressing their erections together, and Ilya could finally grasp that perfect ass he had desired from the first moment. He might be in paradise.
He had imagined what it would be like to be with Shane, it's true, but he hadn't truly believed it was possible until that moment. His hands guided Shane's hips repeatedly until he groaned against Ilya's lips.
"Stop, stop..." Shane breathed heavily. "It's been a while since..."
"Me too," Ilya admitted. He didn't know how long Shane was referring to, but being without sex for over a month was certainly an eternity for Rozanov.
"I don't want to come in my pants like a teenager."
"Then maybe you should take them off," Ilya said, sliding his hands across Shane's abdomen, lifting his shirt.
Shane got off Ilya's lap, throwing himself back on the bed and hurriedly taking off his clothes. Ilya did the same, undressing as quickly as he could.
"Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God." Shane murmured.
"Is everything alright, Hollander?"
"No, I'm naked in my bed with you."
Ilya reached out and turned on the lamp.
"What are you..."
"You're having panic attack?" Ilya asked in a playful tone, covering Shane with his body.
Shane smiled weakly, and Rozanov kissed him again very calmly.
"It's just the two of us here, yes?" Shane nodded in agreement. "And we want the same thing."
"Yeah."
Ilya kissed him again, letting their tongues fight for space in each other's mouths. He could do this for hours, just kissing Shane again and again. He was very good at it.
When he felt the other had relaxed, Ilya allowed himself to thrust his hips against Shane's again, and when Shane began to moan, he didn't hesitate to hold their cocks together, thrusting at a pace bordering on torture. But it was enough to avoid coming immediately, as he knew would happen if he dared to be more greedy.
"Oh, fuck, I'm so close..."
"How close?" Ilya managed to ask, but Shane couldn't answer; all that came out of his mouth were increasingly desperate moans, and Rozanov understood the message, quickening the movement of his hand while swallowing his sighs in a hot, hungry kiss.
Ilya felt his heart race when they came together; his lips took an eternity to accept that perhaps they should leave Shane's, they needed to clean themselves.
"Look over there," Shane said, turning on the other lamp.
"Why?"
"Just look over there."
Ilya turned his face away slightly reluctantly and heard a drawer open and close. Shane pulled out a pack of wet wipes and began cleaning up the mess that had spread across Ilya's abdomen and his own.
"What's in that drawer?"
"Nothing."
"Come on, Hollander, you know my secret, what's yours?"
"It's not a secret, it's just personal..."
Ilya propped himself up on his elbow, his eyebrows rising in curiosity. Shane certainly had his full attention.
"You're not going to leave me alone, are you?" Shane sighed defeatedly.
"Nope."
"It's a thing."
"A thing?"
"A dildo."
Ilya was amazed by the information; he couldn't stop smiling.
"What color?"
"Fuck off."
"Is it big? Can I see?"
"No fucking way"
"Hollander, maybe I need to see this more than I need oxygen"
"Then maybe you'll die of ridiculous causes"
"You just keep getting more interesting"
"Maybe this is the first time that set of words has been directed at me" Shane laughed.
"What do people usually say about you?"
"I'm more used to the words methodical, competent, and boring."
"Well, Mr. Boring, you make me curious."
"Yeah?"
Ilya nodded and leaned towards him again. "Do I make you curious too?"
"Obviously."
"Good to know." Ilya pulled Shane's hips closer to his and kissed him again.
"Rozanov, you know this can't happen again, right?"
"Hollander, this isn't even over yet." Ilya squeezed Shane's butt.
"No?"
"No... I want to fuck you." Ilya groaned against Shane's ear. "You want that too?"
"Maybe." Shane gasped.
"Hmm," Ilya kissed Shane's neck. "It's not good enough, I was hoping for a yes."
"You need to earn the yes," Shane replied in a whiny voice that didn't match the hard to get role he was trying to play.
"I will," Ilya murmured.
🏒❤️🎬
Shane was trying to think of the exact reasons why he shouldn't be doing this, but when Ilya sucked on his nipples, he couldn't remember a single one.
They had kissed so much that Shane's lips began to tingle. He had come about 15 minutes ago, maybe more because his dick was starting to react again; it was hard to know. When you're drunk with desire, time tends to pass differently.
"You have lub?" Ilya asked, kissing his abdomen, and God, he looked so beautiful from that angle, and from every other angle too.
"Yes, in..." Shane's eyes widened. "I'll get it."
Ilya laughed as he was thrown aside. Shane leaned over and reached for the drawer, groping without really seeing what was inside until his fingers touched the bottle. He threw it at Ilya and went back to searching for the condoms.
"Hmm, purple then," Ilya whispered to him as Shane closed the drawer. He knew Ilya couldn't have seen from where he was lying; he was probably just guessing, a very accurate guess at that.
"Shut up."
"Make me."
Shane accepted the challenge, throwing himself on top of Ilya, sliding his tongue down the man's abdomen. He intended to steal every word of English from Rozanov's mouth.
It wasn't fully erect yet when Shane took it into his mouth, but that was fun; Shane liked the sensation of having a growing cock in his mouth, and it wasn't long before it was big enough that Shane couldn't swallow it whole, but that didn't stop him from trying repeatedly until his throat started to burn. Damn, Rozanov was a feast.
Shane was a little intoxicated by the natural scent of Ilya's pelvis, so distracted that he only realized he was devouring it when Ilya pulled his head away.
"Damn, Hollander," Ilya gasped, his cock still throbbing with Shane's saliva against his stomach. "You were hungry."
"Sorry."
"Don't you dare apologize for that." Ilya pulled Shane into a kiss before laying him on his back and positioning himself between his legs. "But I have plans, and they include only coming after you."
Shane felt himself melting more and more at the touch of Ilya's lips against his skin. He had by far the best kiss Shane had ever tasted, and apparently the best blowjob too, because it only took a few seconds in Rozanov's mouth for Shane to realize he would need to fight for his dignity.
"Holy shit," Shane groaned, too loudly for his own embarrassment. "Holy shit, Rozanov."
He felt Ilya's groan of satisfaction vibrate against his cock. Did he really need to be so good at this? How would Shane manage to spend the next few weeks near Ilya without thinking about his mouth around his cock or... Oh, God. Ilya's tongue was in Shane's hole, hot and invasive, making him writhe shamefully.
"Damn, Rozanov, you're so good at this."
Ilya responded with a slap on the ass that made Shane groan even more. He used all his self-control not to throw himself in Ilya's face like a desperate whore, but that's how he felt.
The awareness of where he was and who he was slowly left Shane as Ilya inserted his fingers into him one by one, opening him up to receive the best cock he had ever sucked. Perhaps his soul had already left his body when this finally happened because three curved fingers inside him were robbing him of the ability to articulate words.
"Are you ready for me?" Ilya asked, pressing his forehead against Shane's, moving his fingers efficiently while showering kisses across his face. Shane simply nodded. "I'm waiting for my yes, Hollander, you said I'd need to earn it."
Shane vaguely remembered saying that, and in a superhuman effort to keep his word, all he could do was beg for cock.
"Yes, please," Shane groaned. "Give it to me."
Ilya removed his fingers from inside Shane, making him groan, "Sorry, I need both hands for this."
He put on a condom and spread lubricant along the length of his penis. With one of Shane's legs over his shoulder, he began to push slowly, pulling back his hips to then thrust in a little further, repeating this several times until he was completely inside, establishing a steady but comfortable rhythm.
"Oh, Jesus," Shane groaned louder and louder. Ilya leaned over him to kiss his mouth. The discovery that Shane's body could bend in that way, however, made Ilya speed up a little more.
"You look even more beautiful when you can take a huge cock inside you," Ilya bit Shane's chin. "Just look at you."
Shane had no idea what he looked like at that moment, but Ilya seemed hypnotized. His eyes increasingly clouded with blind desire.
He pushed Shane's leg, which was resting on his shoulder, down and to the opposite side, turning him onto his side without pulling out. Adjusting the angle of his hips, he began to rub Shane's sensitive spot repeatedly.
"Damn it, Rozanov," Shane whimpered.
"You're going to come for me, huh?" Ilya's moan echoed almost like a growl, sending a shiver down Shane's spine. "You're so good to me."
Shane felt his orgasm hit him, soaking the bedsheets. He was barely conscious, but he was able to notice when Ilya came after a few more thrusts.
Ilya's hand touched Shane's side with gentle caresses, so different from who he had been just seconds before.
"Now the bed is all dirty," Shane concluded too late, perhaps he should have used a lighter sheet to make washing easier.
"What? Shut up," Ilya laughed against Shane's shoulder. "I'm going to take a shower, okay?"
"Okay," Shane whispered, and Rozanov gave him a quick kiss before leaving the room.
Shane gathered the bedsheets and stuffed them in the bathroom hamper along with his regular clothes; that was a problem for later. He threw a clean fitted sheet over the bed and smoothed it over the mattress, tucking it in at the sides; it would be enough for them to sleep the rest of the night.
When Shane came out of the shower, Rozanov was lying there wearing only his underwear. He no longer had the distant look he had when Shane found him at the bar. Shane spread a blanket over him and then settled under it as well.
Ilya gave him a goodnight kiss, and perhaps from the tiredness of the day or the two incredible orgasms he had had that night, Shane slept soundly.
In the morning, when his alarm clock rang, he felt a weight on his body, Ilya's golden curls resting on his chest, and a strong arm holding Shane around his abdomen. The memory of the night hit him hard.
"Oh God, what have I done..."