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Shane waits anxiously behind the door, listening for Rozanov’s footsteps. Before his phone has the chance to buzz with a ‘here’ text, he pushes the door open. Their gazes meet for one second before Shane forces his eyes down and motions for him to come in, closing the door behind them. Without a word, Shane leads him upstairs, making their way to the living room before Shane decides to break the tension.
“So…”
“So.” Rozanov replies slowly as Shane tries looking anywhere but his face.
“Where do you want to…”
“Hollander, what is wrong with you? Are you sad because you lost the game?” He could feel Rozanov’s smirk without even looking at his face.
“No. I just don’t have a ton of time tonight so if you want to do this then we better…” Before he could finish his sentence, Rozanov was there crowding his personal space. A hand pulling his chin up, forcing their eyes to meet.
“Oh? Do you have another hockey player coming over to fuck you tonight?”
“No.”
“No? Then why do we have to hurry?”
And Shane had suddenly forgotten every excuse he had made up.
With a head tilt, Rozanov leans closer. “Maybe I should just leave you to fuck youself, da?”
Shane swallows hard. And maybe a small whine escapes as he does. His body freezing as Rozanov leans in closer, almost letting their lips touch.
“Maybe I will go back to empty hotel room and find someone else who will want to be fucked?”
“No.” Shane blinks himself back to his body and pulls his head back to look at Rozanov. He can’t help but love the slightly surprised look he is met with. “You’re here to fuck me, so do it.” Trying his best to sound nonchalant.
“Oh?!” Now it was Rozanov’s turn to freeze in place.
“Yes.” With a recentering breath, Shane steps back and moves himself to the arm of the couch. He had spent an entire Saturday once imagining Rozanov pounding into him on this very arm rest. Adjusting so his thighs could press against the arm and hinging just slightly so his hands could splay out on the leather cushion in front of him. “I want it here, like this.”
A glance up tells him that Rozanov is stunned into silence. Shane waits for any clue of Ilya’s thoughts, and just before deciding to forget the whole thing and talk himself out of embarrassment, Rozanov moves to meet him.
“Okay.” He’s behind Shane now with a hand gripping his hips and his lips on Shane’s ear. “We will be quick, yes?”
Shane responds by removing his shirt while Rozanov’s hands silently help him out of his sweats. Once discarded, those hands gently caress Shane’s hips, making their way to the bottom of his spine, and with Shane leaning forward slightly, allowing Rozanov to trace a finger over his hole.
“You started without me?” He gasps disappointedly as his fingers slip inside Shane without resistance.
Shane had hoped that getting himself ready beforehand would help him keep to his mission, but no amount of prep could stop him from gasping as he feels Rozanov’s fingers inside of him.
“You do not want my help tonight?” Shane can practically heard the pout in his voice.
Oh shit. This was going to be so much harder than Shane thought.
“Are you gonna fuck me or not, Rozanov?” Shane couldn’t hold it together much longer and it was taking everything in him to not flip around and kiss the disappointment off of Rozanov’s face. He had to stay strong.
A pause and then Rozanov was stepping back, removing his finger from Shane. He listens as he hears a shirt and pants hit the floor and the familiar sound of a condom being opened. He waits impatiently, but not letting himself turn to watch Rozanov stroke himself.
The longest minute of his life passes before he feels warmth on his back again, Rozanov’s hands pushing Shane’s shoulders down slightly. Shane’s cheeks spread and he feels a stretch as Rozanov pushes himself inside slightly. Shane’s brain short circuits as a calloused palm moves up to his head and with a firm grip in his hair, pushes him all the way to the couch cushion.
“I will make sure to be fast.” He hears before Rozanov thrusts himself all the way into Shane.
“Oh fuck!” Shane moans. Rozanov’s grip tight on his hair as he bottoms out. Shane feels himself being pulled back up and dry lips on his ears again, with Rozanov’s free hand now snaking around his front.
“I will go fast, but it will be rough. You want that?” Rozanov’s grip tightening slightly and Shane finds himself now staring up at the ceiling. “Yes?” He feels breathed into his ear. Shane nods. A little softer this time, Rozanov whispers, “Tell me to stop if it hurts.” And before Shane has the chance to say anything, Rozanov pulls out and starts pounding into him.
Shane gasps as his hands do their best to hold him up on the sofa arm. The arm around Shane’s front is moving back to his hip and the hand in his hair is pushing him back down to the couch, his cheek hitting the cold leather and bouncing momentarily while Rozanov’s hand holds him down against it.
He feels him lean down closer, still relentlessly pounding into him. The slight pain quickly morphing into pleasure but he can’t help but pinch his brows together from the intensity, completely unaware of the sounds Rozanov is forcing out of him.
They had had plenty of what Shane had thought was rough sex, but this felt different. There was something about the way Rozanov was forcing his face into the couch and pushing into him this hard.
“Fuck, Rozanov!” Shane cries out on a particularly deep thrust. He moves his mouth into the cushion to try and keep his sounds quiet. As much as he wanted to keep his mission in mind, the closer he got to his climax, the foggier it became. The feelings started to bleed through.
He’s aware now that he’s grinding against the sofa arm where his dick is being smashed with each thrust. The hand on his hip slides up Shane’s side reaching around to his dick and pushing it down to the cushion harder. Shane groans.
“So when does the other hockey player get here to fuck you?” Rozanov breathes into his ear. “Maybe we can take turns?”
“Fuck, I-“ a wave dangerously close to his orgasm hits Shane mid sentence as he gasps and turns his face so his his mouth is uncovered again. “Oh fuck, Rozanov.” His hands grasping at whatever he can find to hold on to and stop himself from finishing.
“Fuck Hollander.” Rozanov exhales as he leans his chest flush with Shane’s back and Shane is convinced he is inside his skin he’s so close. “You would like that wouldn’t you?” Shane’s not too far gone to catch the hint of surprise in Rozanov’s voice.
“I-”
Shane could feel tears welling up in his eyes from the pleasure and relentless pounding. He can’t do this tonight. He is so close and so full of feelings he doesn’t want.
“No.” Shane settles on.
“No?” Rozanov pulls back and releases Shane’s hair. His thrusts slow down and Shane turns his face more to look at him over his shoulder with furrowed brows, still way too close to his climax to think clearly.
“No. Just you.” Shane shuts his eyes and pushes his face into the cushion. He couldn’t see Rozanov’s reaction, but he could feel it. The way his pounding pauses for a split second before continuing with much more sporadic movements, like he’s unable to control himself.
Shane swears he could hear a growl above him before Rozanov is practically falling forward, forcing his head down into Shane’s neck and cursing.
“Fuck Hollander.”
Shane, still on the edge of finishing, lifts his right hand to grip golden curls and press their cheeks together. This was the closest Shane had ever felt to another person. He could hear Rozanov’s heart beating, his warm breath on Shane’s neck. The tiny little ghost kisses Rozanov was leaving with each thrust. Breathing deeply he started to feel it- that warm, fluttery feeling in his belly. It felt like the world was slowing down and the only thing that mattered was the man on top of him. Inside of him. The man that no matter how hard he tried to deny it, he liked a whole lot. Maybe even more than that. Maybe even loved.
Oh god.
It was so much. Too much for this moment. Did he love Ilya Rozanov?
He didn’t have time to answer the question because Ilya thrust especially deep, grazing Shane’s prostate just perfectly and making Shane come with a gasp. His body spasms and he can’t stop himself from pulling the curls in his hand closer to his while Ilya continues to thrust. It was too much. Gasps and moans escaping him as Ilya chases his own orgasm.
“Oh god Hollander.” He comes just as Shane was trying to escape the overstimulation. His thrusts slow as they both try to breathe in the same air. Cheeks pressed together, each with a hand in the other's hair- Ilya softly petting Shane’s hair, while Shane still had a white knuckle grip. His body still clenching around Ilya with each shallow thrust.
“Was okay?” Ilya breathes out, his cheek still glued to Shane’s as they catch their breaths, and their hips finally still.
Okay?! Shane couldn’t form a clear thought. That was the most intimate experience of his life and he had no idea what to do now. How could he come back from this? And Ilya was asking if it was okay? No, not Ilya- Rozanov. No kissing, no calling him Ilya.
“Hollander?” Rozanov’s right hand moving slowly up from Shane’s dick to his own head where Shane was still gripping him tightly and breathing heavily. He rubs small circles into Shane’s hand and places tiny kisses in his neck as he whispers “You are okay?”
Oh.
No, he’s not okay. He’s never felt closer to a person than right now but he’s not supposed to feel this way. This is just sex! Just normal, boring sex. He could get this with anyone else. The only reason he feels like this is because he hasn’t even tried having sex with anyone else. Okay, at least not in the last few months.
“Hey.” The gentle voice reminds him where he is.
He snaps from his thoughts and immediately releases Ilya’s hair, using his hand instead to push himself up. Rozanov still on top of him, and inside of him, takes the hint and quickly to removes himself.
They stand up quietly and Shane glances down at the come covered couch with groan. With a gentle hand resting on his hip and a small kiss on his shoulder, Rozanov whispers, “I will get a towel to clean it up. Stay here.” before letting him go with a pat and waking into the kitchen.
Shane stands motionless with his thighs still stuck to the armrest. His thoughts moving a million miles per second.
Rozanov returns with a warm wet towel and uses it to wipe the couch. Then, before Shane could stop him, he gently wipes down Shane’s ass, cleaning up the lube that was now dripping out of him.
It all feels too warm and cozy. Rozanov is too close, too nice. He feels a hand snake around his front again, pulling him flush with a warm chest.
“6 minutes? Not too bad for a quickie.” Rozanov whispers into his ear. “Maybe we have time for round two, yes?” His lips move down to Shane’s neck, leaving slow wet kisses. Shane closes his eyes as his head rolls to the side to give Rozanov more access.
Shane’s hand finds Rozanov’s as he gently moves it up and down Shane’s torso. He stops on a nipple before giving it a small squeeze, earning a small moan from Shane.
“I have a flight in the morning.” Shane lies.
“Me too. But that is why we will be quick again.” Rozanov turns Shane in his grip, now face to face. “Maybe we can try for 5 minutes this time?” He smiles as he leans in for a kiss and Shane freezes.
If he kisses Rozanov right now, it would open the flood gates. He would never be able to get his feelings to go away.
Shane pulls back, Rozanov following him slightly before pulling back with confusion. They stare for a moment while Shane attempts to break the tension.
“I need some water.” Shane stutters while trying to slowly get out of Rozanov’s grip.
With a hum, the man releases his grip on Shane while stepping back.
A moment passes while Shane pulls on his pants and makes his way to the fridge for water. With two bottles in hand, he turns to offer one to Rozanov, but is met with eyes watching him.
“Do you- uh -do you want some?” He stutters, trying to sound calm and collected. Rozanov steps towards him.
“Maybe.” He looks at Shane with dark eyes, stepping further into Shane’s space. Rozanov takes a deep breath in while keeping his eyes on Shane’s. The tension is thick and Shane knows he can only resist so much. Rozanov inches forward, almost brushing their noses together.
Okay, one kiss. He can just give him one kiss and then they will move on and be done.
They stare at each other as Shane licks his lips and prepares himself for the kiss. Warm breath on his, lips connecting, and tongues moving together. But just before they connect, a pause.
“I should go.” Rozanov grabs the water from Shane’s hand and turns back to the living room. He pulls on his clothes while Shane blinks.
Rozanov is fully dressed before Shane has even finished processing his thoughts, but he snaps out of them anyway to throw on his shirt quick before leading Rozanov back down the stairs.
They both pause at the bottom as Rozanov finds the keys to his rental car in his coat pocket.
“Wow Hollander, I think this might be the fastest hookup we’ve ever had. What was it, 20 minutes?” If Shane wasn’t so busy panicking about not getting a kiss, he might have paid more attention to Rozanov’s tone and possible underlying statements.
“Yeah, I guess it was pretty quick.”
“Well you definitely were.”
“Fuck off Rozanov. You came right after I did.” Shane tries to say with a laugh.
“Yes, but I had a good view. You came with your eyes closed.” Rozanov teases as he leans forward, just inches from Shane’s face.
Shane’s body tenses. Just one kiss. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that. Rozanov’s eyes trace his face.
“Hmm, no goodnight kiss then?” He says but Shane can see there is more emotion hidden behind his eyes.
Shane swallows his words, afraid that the truth would lead to the other man finally breaking things off.
“O-kay.” Rozanov steps back towards the door. Still facing Shane, he reaches a hand behind himself to open the door. “Goodnight then, Hollander.”
“Goodnight.”
Rozanov nods. Shane blinks and nods back. The door opens, letting in a rush of cold, night air. Rozanov turns his body towards the door, but keeping his eyes on Shane until he steps out and the door blocks his view.
With a gentle closing click, Ilya is gone. Shane hopes the tension would leave as soon as he was gone, but it seems to only be growing the longer they are apart.
What was he doing? Why was he giving up one of his favorite feelings that he’s quite possibly ever felt? He already had to deprive himself of so much in life, why does he have to deprive himself of this? Of Ilya?
Just one kiss. He just needed one kiss and it didn’t have to mean anything other than a kiss.
One deep breath later and Shane was pushing the door open ready to chase Ilya down the street and stop him from leaving. But instead, he smacks into a solid body standing right outside the door.
“Oh blyat!” Ilya curses while being pushed back by the door.
“Shit! I’m sorry, I didn’t know you would still be here.” Shane’s hand flies to Ilya’s now injured shoulder as he tries to rub his guilt away.
“Fuck Hollander, first no goodnight kiss, now you hit me with metal door?” Ilya teases before finding Shane’s hands with his own and pausing his guilty soothing.
It was much colder than Shane had realized, which made it that much easier to feel how warm Ilya’s hand was on his.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were still standing here. I just-“ He wasn’t sure how to tell Ilya why exactly he had opened the door.
“You just what?” Ilya asks.
“I just wanted to make sure you made it to your car safely.” Shane tries to say with a steady tone.
“Ah.” A smirk starts to form on Ilya’s face as their hands are still frozen together on Ilya’s shoulder. “How kind of you, Hollander.”
“Yeah, well, I guess I’ll let you go then.” Shane pulls his hand away and nervously shoves it in his pocket, immediately missing the warmth of the other hand that had been holding his.
“Yes, I will go now. I will go to my car.” Ilya says without moving. “And you will just, go back inside now.”
Shane nods anxiously with his lips pressing together tightly.
“O-kay Hollander, goodnight, again.” Ilya takes a deep breath and turns to leave.
“Gooodnight.” Shane mutters as he watches Ilya pause and take another deep breath. His head turns back towards Shane with pursed lips and a forlorn expression. A slight nod and Ilya turns around to continue to his car.
All the bravery Shane had used to open the door was gone. He couldn’t ask Ilya for a kiss, it wouldn’t be fair. It was selfish. He couldn’t have feelings for him and kissing would only make that more complicated for both of them. It was better this way. Simple. Just sex. No kissing. Just mind blowing, world rocking, best he’d ever had and didn’t even realize you could have sex. Nothing more.
He is immediately shaken out of his thoughts as he turns and is met with a locked, cold handle. Shit. He didn’t bring his key. He would have to go around the front of the building to get in with a code. He would have to walk the same path Ilya was currently walking away from him on to let himself in. Shit.
He turns to see Ilya slightly further than he had been when Shane had turned around. He would either need to wait here in the cold with no coat until Ilya was all the way to his car, or walk awkwardly behind him. Either way, he would for sure notice Shane walking all the way around the building to get back in. Somehow this night was just getting worse.
“It’s fine. Just walk behind him slowly and don’t be weird.”
As he starts down the path he quickly realized following behind Ilya silently was weird. No question about it. But maybe if Ilya doesn’t notice then he would never have to face that reality. Unfortunately, his hope of that happening lasts about 30 seconds before Ilya turns around.
“You are following me?” He pauses, fully turning around with a concerned look on his face.
“Uh, no.” Shane shivers and feels his shoulders fall forward trying to hold in his warmth but also maybe out of embarrassment. “I mean, yeah kinda. I forgot my key.” Shane continues walking slowly until they are face to face.
“Hmm sounds like something a murderer would say.”
Shane can’t stop himself from smiling. No matter how hard he tries to feel nothing for this man, he is charmed by everything he says and does.
“Ah, but then how would you redeem yourself after tonight’s loss if you murder me?”
Shane shakes his head with a smile, and steps closer.
“You barely scored one more goal than I did. I think it’ll be an easy win for me.”
Ilya matches his step and suddenly they were closer than Shane intended.
“Hm, maybe, but maybe you will be too busy trying not to get goodnight kiss after the game that you will lose again.”
Shane freezes. His eyes glued to Ilya’s. He opens his mouth willing his brain to offer up anything besides the truth.
“Is okay Hollander. You don’t want to kiss, we don’t kiss.”
Shane watches as the hurt flashes across Ilya’s face before his normal, nonchalant expression returns. Maybe Ilya liked the kissing as much as Shane did.
He shivers at the thought, but doesn’t linger on it for long.
“I think I’m catching a cold, is all. And I don’t want to spread it to you.”
A lie! Thank god his brain finally caught up and gave him something to work with! Maybe he could make it through the night without a kiss after all.
“A cold?” With a judgmental glance, Ilya concludes “Is probably from stalking your guests outside in the cold air and trying to murder them.”
Shane snorts and shakes his head. God, he is a goner.
“How will you get back into your house without a key?”
“There’s a pin pad at the front door.”
“Ah, Mr. Technology.”
Shane rolls his eyes and pushes past Ilya.
“What?! Mr. Landlord gets high tech for his clients, no?” Ilya shouts from behind as he hurries to catch up.
They reach the front door and Shane enters the code quickly before opening the door and stepping into the warm and cozy front hall. He turns to Ilya who is waiting at the threshold, glancing inside behind Shane.
“I guess I’ll see you in Bost-“
“Do you bring all your guests up the back entrance, or just me?” Ilya smirks.
“Fuck off.”
“Is nice to know I am a special guest.”
“The back is more private.”
“Ah.” Ilya says while leaning against the door frame. “So the other hockey player that is coming to fuck you will come through back door too, or?”
“Fuck you, Rozanov.” Shane tries to close the door but is stopped by a warm hand on his.
“Hmm, that’s not what you said upstairs.” Ilya whispers as he steps inside and closer to Shane.
No matter how hard he tried, Shane can’t seem to hold his ground when Ilya steps closer to him. The original mission of the night was long forgotten as Ilya’s fingers gently wrapped around Shane’s chin. The space between them getting smaller and smaller until Shane remembers his lie.
“Rozanov, I’m sick.”
Ilya shrugs. “I don’t mind.”
And before he could come up with another excuse, his lips meet Ilya’s and every other thought is gone.
He’s heard people talk about fireworks when they kiss someone or butterflies, but when Ilya kisses him, everything goes quiet. Every thought is just Ilya. His soft lips and his warm mouth. His kind eyes and his strong arms. Fingers that hold his chin and caress his skin while they move together. The cologne that Shane swears he can smell on himself after they hook up and sometimes even holds off on showering just to keep it around a little longer. He thinks of the jokes Ilya makes and how good he is at hockey. All his brain can do is scream, ILYA!
They kiss for what feels like only a second before Ilya pulls back. Shane can’t help but fall forward, trying to find Ilya’s lips again.
“Goodnight.” Ilya whispers with a slight tap to Shane’s cheek, forcing his eyes to open and meet Ilya’s.
“Oh.”
Ilya steps back and out the door before Shane has time to register what just happened. He closes the door and stares at the ground while an engine starts in the distance and speeds off down the street.
He failed his mission.
The next time Ilya comes over, Shane makes sure they kiss from the moment he arrives all the way up to his bed.