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Thunderous applause erupted through the room that was just warm enough to be stifling. Hayden watched as his best friend walked out on the stage with his rival and asshole, Ilya Rosanov.
The MHL awards were never something Hayden looked forward to. It was his first time attending, and his distaste for the event had nothing to do with the fact that he wasn’t there for his own award but rather in support of Shane, who was nominated for MVP and was presenting an award with Rosanov.
If Shane were anyone else, he would have expected him to bring a date or find someone to spend the evening with after the awards, but… it was Shane. Who was so chronically single that he didn’t have anyone else to take to an award ceremony except his married teammate.
Shane was a good guy. He and Jackie had been trying to set Shane up with someone for a while, but he was never interested. He didn’t know if it was his pride and wanting to find his own girlfriend because Jackie and he had gone through lengths to find him someone with whom he would get along, and the women were hot, even Jackie agreed.
Shane and Rosanov were up on stage, smiling and laughing together with a terribly written script that felt fake, but the crowd still ate it up anyway. It wasn’t fair that Shane had to put up with Rosanov. He didn’t know how he did it, how he could even manage to tolerate being so close to him. Hayden grimaced, feeling bad for the guy.
Rosanov had taken a photo of the two of them, joking about getting Shane’s number to text it to them, playing into the rivalry that had exploded over the last couple of years. It was the MHL’s baby, pimping the two out to sell tickets. It kept him paid, but Rosanov was always on something whenever they played. The two always seemed to play harder, like they were ignited by each other, exploding. It was cool to watch. He couldn’t blame people for getting excited.
Hayden was done watching whatever was happening on stage. He was tired of wearing his stuffy suit. He was going to hit the bathroom, his two beers of the evening catching up with him. He found the bathroom by the stage, hopefully he would run into Shane backstage after, and maybe he could convince the guy to let loose enough to have one beer with him. That one beer wasn’t going to kill him.
He walked into the empty bathroom. The urinal was covered in yellow caution tape, with a sign taped on it in printer paper.
Out of Order.
Was written across it. Ugh. He stepped into the stall, locking the door behind him, and before he could pull his dick out to piss, someone burst into the bathroom and, much to his own embarrassment, startled him. He would admit freezing and then waiting a second to see what was happening. He took a peek through the slit in the door.
It was Shane. Who was clearly having a panic attack. He was about to zip his pants up and comfort his friend, who was clearly panicking. Getting up on stage was nerve-racking, but he seemed fine on stage a minute ago. Before he could unlock the door or say anything to make his presence known, another person came bursting through the door.
Rosanov. That bastard. He probably said something to upset Shane, and now he was coming to torment him further as he clearly was trying to get away. He didn’t know why, but he waited a second. A beat to see what would happen. His vision through the slit in the door wasn’t much. He felt awkward, like he was spying on people in the bathroom, but it felt so awkward.
He was going to burst out to Shane’s rescue and make his presence known before it was too late.
Rosanov leaned against the wall and chuckled. “Well…” An unspoken question hangs in the air.
Shane scoffed, clearly upset by whatever this question was. Hayden wanted to know. He knew if he announced himself, he would break the spell of whatever was happening. His hand hovered in front of the lock on the door.
“What? What the fuck do you want, Rosanov? You haven’t answered a text from me in like six months. You won’t even acknowledge I exist unless there’s a camera pointed at us, and then it’s for some fucking clown show.” Shane’s voice wavered at the end.
It was the most emotional Hayden thought he had ever heard in Shane’s voice. He wasn’t an emotional guy. He wasn’t some unfeeling macho man, but it was rare to see Shane ever truly worked up. Especially by something that wasn’t hockey.
“So yeah, what the fuck do you actually want from me?” A pause between them. “Well?”
When did they get so friendly? He thought they hated each other.
Clearly, they were texting. Were they friends? Though not good friend,s if Rosanov went and ghosted him for six months.
“I want you to suck my dick.” Hayden froze, like he dropped into an ice bath. What the actual fuck.
“Oh fuck you, you are unbelievable. You suck my dick.” Shane turned away from Ilya. Hayden shouldn’t be in here. Curiosity killed the cat, and it was about to kill Hayden, too. This wasn’t something he was supposed to be hearing.
He was acting like a perv watching his best friend talking to his rival while hiding in a bathroom stall. He was disgusted with himself, but it was too late now. Right. Ilya had a reputation as a womanizer, taking home different women almost every night. Was that just a rumor? That didn’t make sense. Was he compensating and secretly gay for his best friend? Was it the rivalry? Hot to sneak around with your rival pretending to hate him, but behind closed doors being something more. Was it just sex? Hayden wanted to know everything and simultaneously forget everything.
Fuck, Hayden had to pee.
Ilya stared at him before moving toward Shane with intention, grabbing his face, forcing Shane to look at him.
“Maybe ask nicely, hmm.”
“Please.” His voice soft.
Shane leaned into Ilya’s hand. It was disgustingly tender.
When the fuck had this started?
“If you want me to get on my knees on this filthy bathroom floor, then you are going to have to ask nicer than that.”
Fuck. It got worse. He should have just announced himself once they started talking. This was so, so much worse.
“Will you please get on your knees on this filthy bathroom floor and suck my dick. Please.” He repeated. Hayden could see Rosanov holding Shane’s face, who leaned into his touch.
Shane let his head fall onto Ilya’s shoulder, nuzzling him.
What the fuck?
Was Shane gay? While that wasn’t that surprising, if he was being completely honest, he had never had much interest in women, but he thought that had to do more with intensity about hockey and the fact that he didn’t seem to have much interest in anything outside of hockey, even following that horrible diet in the name of the sport.
Hayden had to make himself known fast, but how? They would know he had been listening this whole time like a fucking weirdo, but now he was scared it was going to get even worse. He didn’t know what to do. He was panicking.
What would Jackie do? What would she tell him to do? Jackie would have never listened to their conversation for so long. She would have come to Shane’s rescue as soon as Rosanov entered the bathroom. He hesitated in helping his friend, and now was this his karma? The universe answered with a sharp pain in his bladder. Fuck, he still really needed to pee.
Rosanov kissed Shane. The quiet sound was loud in the quiet bathroom. Ilya turned to lock the bathroom door. Fuck. He was so screwed. He was going to have to wait this out and swear to never think about this moment again. Suddenly terrified that they were going to see his feet, he stood up on the toilet, damning himself further. Fuck. This was so fucked up, and no matter what he did, it kept getting worse. How did it keep getting worse?
Ilya kissed down his jaw and fell to his knees. Hayden looked away, becoming wildly fascinated by the ceiling tiles, praying that Shane would come fast. He didn’t seem to get much action. Small mercies, he supposed.
The sound of Ilya taking Shane into his mouth, the wet sounds of him sucking. Shane moaned, grabbing Rosanov's hair. He moaned again. Loud. Like he wasn’t even trying to stay quiet. Hayden wanted to cry. This was so fucked up. If he weren’t so panicked, maybe he would start crying. How was he ever going to look Shane in the eyes ever again?
The wet sounds of what sounded like a very sloppy blowjob on Ilya’s part and Shane moaning filled the quiet bathroom. Hayden shut his eyes, hoping to block it out, but it just made it worse, causing him to imagine the scene that was unfolding before him. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling tiles again, starting to count the little black dots on them.
1
2
3
4
His bladder ached, felt like it was going to explode. He was going to start crying piss at this rate. For the love of everything holy, Shane, come.
Shane whimpered, "Fuck, Rosanov."
But it didn’t matter. Nothing was helping. By the grace of God and the lack of Shane’s sex life. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum." His moans were wanton and desperate. With a final "Rosanov." Shane came, a final desperate moan ripped out of him, followed by silence.
Hayden could cry with relief. A wet pop sound followed.
“You didn’t have to—”
“I don’t mind. Besides, it’s easier to swallow than try to get rid of the evidence later.”
“Right.”
So Ilya swallowed. Interesting.
“Now we are going to go back to our seats. I am going to win an award, and we will go to a boring after-party. Then, after once you’ve been wanting me all night, thinking about my lips on your dick, so that you can’t help but be hard for me. Watching as people adore me, fawning over my award, my victory, while you watch me like a hungry slut. Then maybe, if you are lucky, I will fuck you, or if somehow you win tonight, then I will do whatever it is you want. Hmm, maybe I suck your dick again. But I think what you really want is my dick. Want me to fuck you in your hungry hole, wanting me so bad it’s driving you crazy.”
Someone turned on the faucet, the water running. Hayden assumed Ilya was washing his hands or his face. Putting himself back together after sucking off his arch rival at the biggest night of hockey. If anyone found out, it was over. The MHL was not friendly to queer folks. Hayden didn’t think there had been a single openly gay player in its whole existence. Much less being gay with your arch-rival. The severity of it, the secrecy, the importance that no one ever found out about these two, especially what just happened in this bathroom, was important. Hayden swore to never mention it, not to Jackie, not even in confession, not that he was super religious or even went to church outside of Christmas with his family. He would never talk about this day, and not just because he was clearly a perv who hid in the bathroom stall listening to his best friend’s rival suck him off.
They left the bathroom, leaving Hayden alone. He sighed loudly in relief. Holy fuck. He hopped down from the toilet. What the fuck just happened? His bladder reminded him of the reason he came into the bathroom in the first place. He pulled his dick out in record time, aiming for the toilet, sighing in relief. He was very pointedly ignoring the half chub. It wasn’t his fault. It sounded like sex, like one hell of a sloppy blowjob. His dick didn’t care that it was his best friend and a guy he really fucking hated.
He was a pervert. Hayden really fucked up. He waited another minute before leaving the bathroom. He had been planning on finding Shane, but now he wasn’t going to be able to look him in the eye… ever. Ilya, too, for that matter. Dreading playing Boston, knowing what he knew. He would skip the beer and go for something stronger, much, much stronger, and he was going to avoid any vodka.