Work Text:
Luca sketched a curve in dark pencil, breaking it off to connect to a dash along the bottom of it. From there, his pencil could reveal the shape of an often sketched broad chest, a familiar bear tattoo, an impressive bicep…Down the page, apart but not separate, Hollzy would sit, the thick curves of his muscular thigh.
His pencil wouldn’t reveal anything like that, of course, because people didn't draw erotic art of their coworkers. Anyone who did that was really, really perverted, and Luca couldn’t be a pervert, he was a virgin.
Except. For as long as he could remember, Luca's backpack carried two sketchbooks. One filled cover to cover with playful doodles, which these days mostly meant superheroes for Hazy, and anime characters for Young. Boodram loved when he drew these really simple stick figures of the team, each acting out whatever chirp was being thrown across the locker room.
That was the sketchbook his team knew about.
Luca had been sitting in the team meeting room for two hours. He’d run the sixteen miles it took to get to the rink from his apartment shortly after sunrise. He had nothing much to do with his day except for this team meeting and a short practice after to reinforce the lessons from the strategy session. So deeming it early enough and private enough, he had slipped out his other sketchbook instead.
Luca never really had anyone to talk with about the male form growing up. He knew he was first attracted to the shoulders, the strength and muscles of the men he admired, then the details, big male hands with thick fingers.
Hockey players' locker room interviews quickly became an easy outlet, a natural transition for a young Luca to go from watching a sport he loved to drawing its players that he couldn't stop staring at. Page after page completely filled with cut jaws, wide shoulders, long torsos rippling with abs.
It didn’t take long at all for him to become just another teen in his bedroom, drawing wide shoulders and thick thighs. Men that starred on his bedroom walls intertwined together.
But Luca didn’t do that anymore. Because that was a weird thing to do to people you spoke with regularly.
That didn’t mean he didn’t still draw naked men. He was a horny, creative, young, gay man. There were still sketchbooks devoted to gorgeous muscular men just…more varied, less hockey focused.
So Luca let the pencil's line curve into a long neck, collarbones, shoulders. The face remained unfinished, maybe it would never be finished, but he drew a smattering of freckles and moles along the sketched skin and tried not to think too hard about it. Millions of people had freckles and moles dotting their skin.
Luca drew for hours, waiting for the others to eventually arrive. The hours ticked by and then the minutes, closer and closer to meeting time. Luca barely noticed the passing of anything.
The opening bang of the meeting room door jerked Luca up and alert. His hands rushed down over the pages of his sketchbook, freezing and waiting for whoever was going to enter. He should have slammed the cover closed but he didn’t and now he was a deer in headlights, waiting.
Hollzy had been on the team a while now. It should have been fine, normal, unnoteworthy. Which was a fact that Luca had to remind himself of when Hollander, followed quickly by Rozanov, walked through the door.
The sight of them together was stunning. Especially when Luca wasn’t expecting it. Especially when they looked soft in their track pants and hoodies. Hollzy was definitely wearing Roz’s number 81 and Luca’s mind flashed to the page of his own sketchbook hidden away in his bookshelf back in Zurich.
Luca shook his head and breathed deep and regular, totally normal, nothing weird happening here, as he just stared at them while they walked into the room. He would wave, but then the pages would be out in the open. It would be suspicious to slam them closed now, but his hands burned against the paper.
The team meeting room was set up in the administrative side of the rink. The room fit two long rows of six tables, each with two matching ergonomic black chairs. On the far wall was a whiteboard Wiebe sometimes liked to use, and a TV waiting to go through tape. Roz and Hollzy walked down the aisle in between the tables, passing the first row, then the second, and coming to the one in front of Luca.
“Haasy!” Roz greeted, with a bright smile. “Here so early. Competing with my husband for Golden Boy?” He pushed at Hollzy who kicked back at Roz’s shin as they both ambled down the space between tables coming to face him.
Fuck, he was glad his sketchbook showed only a loose sketch of an anonymous upper body but it still felt like there was a spotlight on it. He unclenched his fists and tried very casually not to draw attention to the book, closing it before sitting back and smiling at the two men in front of him. “Hello.”
They were like watching two sides of a coin, offense and defense, give and take. Roz pulled out Hollzy’s chair for him, turning it around to face Luca’s table. As he sat, he slid his hand out to twist around Roz’s chair, so they each faced Luca. Hollzy reclined back in the chair, kicking his foot over his opposite knee cap, making a small triangle of his legs that somehow opened his crotch right to Luca’s eyeline. Luca dropped his gaze to the empty chair next to him but not before he caught Roz’s hand falling to Hollzy’s thigh, fingers just short of inner curve.
Roz’s stare was a heavy weight on him for long enough that he had to look up at him, caught in the attention of him. Ilya Rozanov. The man whose poster hung on his wall back home, who he grew up staring at for years…right across from his husband’s poster hanging on the opposite side of the room. Luca’s attention slid, as if the mere memory of that sweaty post-game snapshot forever frozen in poster form grabbed hold of him with a desire to see that man’s face again, right here, right now, because somehow that was his life now.
Shane Hollander was staring at him like he was a puzzle. His head wasn’t tilted like a curious dog, but his eyes had narrowed in a certain way that reminded him of how he looked solving a Sudoku puzzle on long plane rides. The striking mahogany brown eyes dragged along Luca’s face, a small smile Luca wanted to call conspiratorial crossed his face - but he wasn’t sure if he was imagining these intense undertones. It wouldn’t be the first time they featured in his wishful thinking.
He shifted in his chair, thankful for the desk that ran between them, covering any hint of his inability to sit still. He brought his hands to the table in front of him, clenching together, coming to a fist, falling apart and playing at the edges of his sketchbook. He should probably say something more. Roz had asked him a question.
Luca swallowed. “I ran here this morning, and it was close enough to our team meeting time that I decided to shower and use my spare clothes from the locker room.” He paused a beat. “That’s why I’m here. Early.”
Roz nodded, the hand that was not on Hollzy’s thigh gesturing out recklessly towards his sketchbook. “You have anything new in there to show off? I tell you about that bully defenseman from Tampa tantruming to the ref last night.” He turned to Hollzy, grinning. “I tell Haas to draw him like one of those comic squares. Like in the New Yorker.” Roz winked and the way Hollzy flushed told Luca there was a story there.
But he couldn’t get sidetracked on that particular line of thought. Roz was asking about his sketches. These sketches.
Something about his reaction made Roz’s eyebrows go up and Hollzy sit up, legs dropping as he leaned forward with a more serious crease at the corners of his eyes. “You don’t have to share--”
“You share your drawings often. But if these are special secret ones, we will not pry.” Roz grinned.
“Ilya,” Hollzy warned. “Leave him alone.”
“I am being nice.” He gestured to Luca now. “He has this sexy-secret sketchbook he does not want us to see. It is fine, of course.” He turned to Luca, giving a small nod. “I will not pry.”
Hollander made a noise between a snort and a laugh, and physically pulled his husband back more fully into the back of the chair. “Good.” He caught Luca’s eye, the fondness he felt for Roz clear in his expression still and it warmed the smile he gave him.
“I bet you draw gorgeous ‘sexy-secret’ drawings.”
Luca wished a hole would open in the floor under him and swallow him whole.
That didn’t happen. What did happen was that Hollander and Rozanov turned to face the front of the room, and began discussing what to do for dinner that night. Luca slid his sketchbook back in his bag and sat there for all of thirty seconds before pulling out his different, more general-audience sketchbook and opening to an aquarium drawing he was doing for Hazy’s nursery. Lisa was due in just a few weeks now and he needed to finish the detailing.
The team filed in. Young slid next to him and started suggesting googly eye expressions for the octopus that Luca was very much not going to incorporate. Wiebe was late, which was rare enough that everyone started whispering about it.
When he finally walked through the front room, he had his hands out in front of him, already poised to push away their grumblings.
“Big news dropped out of the sky. You all know it's the Global Series announcement this week and I just got off the phone with Crowley.” He looked around the room, before stopping when his gaze found Luca’s. “Looks like we’re heading to Switzerland in eight months time, Haasy!”
The announcement took the air from him like a puck to the chest. Home! With his team.
“Do you have enough rooms to host us all?” LaPointe shouted from across the room.
“Mama Haasy and Papa Haasy will have twenty five new sons.” Ilya half turned in his chair. “Such a big happy family.”
“Are there a lot of people in Zurich?” Young asked, which made Hollzy snort.
“I think they are all Haases,” Ilya replied. “We will find you a Haasy cousin to make friends with.”
“Leave my family out of it!” Luca laughed, and he was grinning for real, because his whole family would probably meet this entire team and he honestly couldn’t think of anything he’d want more.
“Do we get to see baby Haas drawings?” Boodman asked.
They went on like that for a bit and Luca just grinned through it all. He loved going home, and bringing the team with him so they could see his Zurich - skate on the ice in the very first rink he’d ever skated in. There would be the craft market around the corner, where he liked to get different types of markers and colored pencils right off the Limmat River. His team could chirp, joke, and tease him all they wanted. They were all going to Switzerland! There was nothing better that could compare.
~~~~
Six months later, sitting in his childhood home, surrounded by half a dozen hockey players, his two sisters, and his parents, Luca wondered why he thought this would ever be a good idea.
The modestly sized family room barely fit them all, with Luca squeezed against the large floral armrest of the sofa, Roz squished against his side. Hollzy sat next to Roz with Bood on the other side. His parents sat in armchairs across from the sofa full of hockey players, his sisters shared a loveseat by the bookcase, and three other Centaurs planted themselves on the floor around the coffee table.
It was cozy, snug. The team had brought pastries and still-warm Zopf they must have picked up at a nearby bakery. The coffee table was scattered with the remains of their midafternoon Kaffee und Kuchen, the family's midafternoon coffee and cake. Luca pushed away from the armrest, shuffling along his bit of the sofa until his shoulders were flush against the back of it. Roz adjusted next to him, also sitting back on the sofa, except that, in doing so, he bullied his shoulder behind Luca's until Luca found himself resting against Roz's arm instead of the sofa at all.
Along the back of the sofa, Hollander’s arm casually rested. No one else noticed the fact that whenever he shifted, his fingers brushed against Luca’s collarbone. The average person wasn’t so finely tuned to the pair of them as Luca was, and wasn't as oversensitive either. It was too much, too close, and with a short, deep gasp Luca pushed his hips forward until he was sitting at the front of the sofa cushion, far away from the heat of Roz’s side and the tingling touch of Hollzy’s fingers.
“It was so nice to meet you all,” his father said. Their language barrier didn’t stop him from having a long, detailed conversation about the season with his teammates over the course of the afternoon.
His mother caught Roz’s attention halfway through Hollander replying to his dad about the Centaurs’ offensive strategy. “It is so helpful for his mama, to know my Luca has such good teammates with him across the sea.”
“Mama--” Luca tried to cut in, immediately embarrassed. The words caught in his throat at the heavy weight of Roz’s hand on his shoulder.
“Be nice to your mama, Haasy.” The hand on his shoulder began to move, running back and forth along the top of shoulder, fingers pressing against his collarbone. He didn’t breathe at all as Roz continued, “Tell her how much the Centaurs care for you.”
Luca’s cheeks flushed as the whole room turned to him, as Roz kept touching him, as Hollzy shifted forward next to him, bringing his knees even closer to Luca; they would touch if not for Ilya between them. Between them. All the different formations of the three of them, rotating who was in the middle, ran through his mind like a page of a sketchbook that would never, could ever exist.
Luca stood up.
“We should get going soon, practice--”
“Is in three hours,” Bood cut in, reaching to the coffee table to grab the last piece of the Zopf.
“A tour then. Of the house.” Luca needed to walk, pace, not sit squeezed too close to the couple.
“I can show Zane the grill we have out back. I told him, she is small but mighty,” Luca’s dad smiled, probably both because of his grill and the use of his advanced English he rarely was able to practice.
His sisters mention the den and a Best Haas Slip-and-Falls edit they’d made. Of course. A lot of the guys perked up at that.
“I would love to see the bedroom where baby Haas grew up,” Ilya suggested. Hollzy stood, the rest of the room emptying as his team and family split between the garden and the den.
Luca cursed under his breath. This was dumb, he’d fallen into some sort of trap because now he was suddenly leading Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander down the hallway that led to his bedroom. His childhood bedroom, where their very faces, and shoulders, and chests, and thighs, were frozen in time wrapped in sweaty victory poses in posters hanging on his walls.
He tried to remind himself that at least he wasn’t on the sofa anymore. He wasn’t shifting under Roz’s heavy, too-large hand, inching his knees towards Hollander’s.
But he knew what waited for him at the end of this hallway wasn’t going to be any better. Luca tried to backtrack.
"Over here, actually, that way is the den, we have a lot of my old hockey--” he went to turn back, and lead them away from his bedroom. His sisters were entertaining and apparently had embarrassing footage of him. That was much better than--
Roz stepped in front of him, arms crossed over the width of his chest. “No.”
Luca startled. “No?”
From over his shoulder, Hollander stopped midstride and the completely average-sized hallway was suddenly much too small. They weren’t intentionally boxing him in, Luca knew that, but he felt surrounded. This level of hyperfocus hit low in his stomach, twisting heat into his groin.
“What’s going on?” Hollzy asked his husband, whose fixed gaze would not leave Luca’s.
“We come all this way, and get so close and now--” Luca watched as his captain actually pouted in front of him, a pursing of lips in annoyance that made Luca feel unhinged. “He does not want to show me which poster of me hangs by his bed.”
“I told my mama to take them down but she thought it was something I needed to do at some point, when I came back home, so now--”
“Them?” Hollzy asked.
Luca snapped his jaw shut, peeked over his shoulder at Shane Hollander and a bolt of humiliation sparked into the mix of heat in his groin and the flutters in his stomach. No one on the team knew about what else, who else, hung on his walls. Having these two men specifically see it would be more than Luca really knew how to deal with. The heat spread, his flushed face deepening into a dark red, when he stepped aside.
Because a part of him had always wanted these two men specifically in his bedroom, for real, not just as flat posters, and he’d regret it forever if he ended this now.
His bedroom was wider than the hallway, but not by any substantial amount. There was enough room for a full size bed, a wide, wooden dresser, and a desk. Rozanov’s poster claimed the area on top of the dresser. Hollander’s hung across from it over the desk. Luca’s bed was in the middle, and he threw himself at the foot of it, head falling into his hands as soon as he saw both of his idols standing in front of their respective posters.
Before his palms squeezed against his eyes, Luca watched a smug grin spread across Roz’s face and noted how it balanced so well with the small, satisfied--and somewhat surprised--smile of his husband.
The weight shifted next to him on the bed. It’d come from the side of his desk, so he assumed it was Hollander. For so many years, that poster watched over him doing his sketches, over his homework. He knew Hollzy was smart, and younger Luca had thought it was good luck to have him looking over his maths and essays.
At night a younger Luca had imagined a different kind of--
A hand fell onto Luca’s wrist, thankfully startling him from the past. The sure grip had a layer of calluses along its fingers and palm, and the skin of Luca’s wrist tingled under the touch. He let Hollzy lower his hand from his face.
Hollander met his gaze for a moment, the beat of time intentional and intense. Then he said, “I’m honored. About the poster. To have been a role model to such a talented--”
“Oh god--” he tried to bring his hand back up but Hollander wouldn’t ease his hold. “No really, listen. When Ilya found out you had a poster of him on your wall - you have no idea the amount of peacocking and boasting he did for months. You know his ego,” Hollzy emphasized the words, and Luca nodded, sparing a glance to Roz, who had turned away from his poster and watched the two of them roaming over his husband, then Luca, narrowing in thought.
Hollzy continued, and Luca turned back to him. They were sitting very close together, and it almost seemed natural for Hollzy’s hand to fall on his thigh. “Not only am I happy to have been someone you looked up to. You have given me a gift, knowing that all along, throughout all that strutting to get a rise out of me, and here I hung too the entire time.”
“You guys always made a good pair,” Luca admitted in a whisper to his knees.
“Is a threesome, no?” Roz’s voice cut through the bedroom, and both men on the bed froze from the words for very different reasons. “Us on the sides on the wall, and you in bed in the middle.” He turned to Hollzy and winked.
Luca’s face went red again as Hollander hissed, “Ilya!”
“What, Shane? We are very good-looking.” Roz shrugged like it was obvious. “I am sure a very hormonal teen Haasy had a very inventive imagination.” He moved from his own poster towards a small bookcase that stood slim and narrow near the corner of the room. Turned to face its contents and read the titles.
Oh fuck.
Luca stood. “And that’s the tour!”
Hollzy nodded, pushing himself to stand from the bed. Out of the corner of Luca’s eye he watched Roz freeze. It was a very specific movement, somehow so loud that both he and Hollzy’s gazes fixed on him.
“What is it?” Hollzy asked.
“Shane.”
“Yes?”
“Remember when I taught you about hashtags?”
Fuck. Fuck.
“You didn’t need to teach me about hashtags. I just never liked using them, even at their peak.”
“Remember when I taught you about how some fans made art and other works inspired by us?”
“Really--” Luca cut in. “I think I hear someone calling us.”
No one was calling them. They’d all gone down to the den or out to the garden.
Hollander furrowed his brow and looked towards Luca like maybe he had answers. Luca did have answers. And he wasn’t fucking volunteering a thing.
But Roz was already reaching a finger out, trailing it along the spine of one of his many, many sketchbooks.
Luca loved all of them. He drew all over the cover, the back, the spine. He labeled each and every one. Usually a theme formed based on what he was passionate about at the time, and the spine title would capture that.
“Remember when I told you the name they created, to find the art and other works inspired by us?”
Roz’s finger traced along one, as if reading it with his touch while he waited for Hollzy to answer, “...Hollanov?”
Luca groaned his misfortune into the room and that caught the couple’s attention immediately. Roz turned from the bookcase, but his finger still rested at the bottom of the ship name. Hollzy’s confused brow was morphing into something more like surprise.
Luca wanted the floor to melt away, drop him under it and freeze back up again.
“Did you…” Hollzy began, piecing it together as he spoke before slamming his mouth shut and turning a soft shade of pink. He never finished the question because suddenly Roz was pushing away from the bookcase and making his way over to them.
Roz stopped right in front of Luca, the tips of their sneakers touching. He may have had over an inch on Roz, but he still felt completely swallowed up by him, compelled to lower his gaze to meet Roz’s even if it made his whole body light on fire from the inside out.
“Did you…” Roz began, mirroring his husband’s words. But where Hollander’s were softly spoken, turning tentative and even a bit awed, Rozanov’s were teasing, poking, shooting right for the center of it all with a smirk that bordered on predatory.
Hollzy wasn’t breaking in this time either. Instead he stood so close next to them but very obviously an observer of this exchange. A very interested observer.
Roz’s attention shifted to Hollander, and Luca watched his smirk soften, his questioning brow melting down into doe eyes. Heart eyes for each other. Luca had drawn that too. “That book was dated 2013-2015.” Roz shared with his husband. “So long, we’ve been making anyone who looks at us horny.”
Hollander snorted. “That’s your takeaway.”
He sent Luca what appeared to be a pointed look before replying. “It is one takeaway.”
Luca had to pull away from them, the mere heat radiating off them was causing him to feel lightheaded. He moved back towards the bed, walked around the side and sat, fists gripping the sheets.
“So now you know,” he told the floor. “As a teenager I imagined you two were a couple and like, drew it.” He paused, but then tacked on, “It’s actually kind of normal?”
Roz chuckled under his breath and Luca plowed right over him, because maybe they thought this was, like, really really weird and not like something that existed on tumblr in the thousands.
“It is! There’s so many blogs about you two. Probably going back way before you were together, like that sketchbook. 2013! There’s no way you were--”
Hollzy caught Roz’s eye and slid their hands together.
“Oh my god, since then! Holy shit the community would explode if they knew that.”
Hollander’s gaze found Rozanov’s. “You really are an explosion.”
“And he really drew pretty pictures of us.”
Luca pressed his lips together and went red.
Roz, of course, pressed the issue. “Or are they sexy pictures of us?”
“You really are incredibly talented,” Hollzy said offhand, like he was thinking about a lot of things and only saying the important ones. The team called it his 4-D chess voice.
And this time it was focused on him. Luca shifted on the mattress. “Thank you….”
“Very,” Roz agreed. “I bet the Hollanov 2013-2015 sketchbook is full of gorgeous versions of us.” He flicked his gaze at Hollzy then back towards Luca. “Did you draw us at the 2014 MHL awards?”
“With those suits?” he replied instantly, recalling the five pages of his sketchbook he devoted to those suits, them on the stage giving out the sportsmanship award together, standing so close they could’ve been touching. Them coming out of the suits, dress shirt unbuttoned down Ilya’s chest, Shane standing in nothing but his briefs and a crisp formal top.
“Shit, Rozanov,” Hollander whispered. He rarely ever heard him call Roz by his last name off the ice and never with a tone so full of yearning. Luca wondered if he was remembering a time over ten years ago when they were together but so far apart.
“Remember after…” Roz trailed off and Hollander’s eyes darkened.
“What about 2017 All Stars weekend?”
“Different sketchbook but…well. The press caught you in that ridiculous Hawaiian shirt,” Luca recalled, then remembering the dozens of variations he’d drawn him in with that bold, flowered print. “In one photo the sun had hit off his curls so well, I used it as a reference photo for months afterwards,” he admitted.
“Reference photos?” Hollzy asked.
“Yeah, for when I was drawing one or two of you doing things in certain poses.” He wished back the answer as soon as he said it, because Roz locked onto it with an all-consuming focus.
“What sort of poses? Sexy poses? Did you draw us naked?” The question wasn’t accusatory, it was delighted, and Luca had no idea what to do with that. Except, it did make him want to…elaborate. Share a bit, and see if it would continue to delight. “That one photo that went viral of you kissing his helmet during the 2017 All Star Game was… another reference photo.”
“So you drew us kissing,” Hollzy said, leaning against the dresser and choosing when to contribute to the conversation with deadly precision.
“Yes.”
They both fell silent, staring at Luca with intense expressions, absorbing too, and they made Luca want to fall right into them.
“Kissing, and…” he continued, to see now what they would say.
“I bet your ‘and’ is half the book,” Roz challenged.
“How detailed?” Hollander cut in again, with a tilt of his head like he was trying to picture it.
“How naked?”
“What angles?”
“Did you ever make a guest appearance?” Roz added, like he was trying to one-up his husband in every situation, even this one, and the glare Hollander threw at Roz would’ve made Luca tremble but he was still trembling from their questions.
Roz just laughed at his husband.
They were so fucking sexy together, impossible to look away from whenever either of them entered a room. But more than that, they didn’t sound disgusted or weirded out. They sounded like two men who were more than intrigued, they sounded interested. In all of it.
Luca had years and years of drawing them together, imagining them together. Imagining all sorts of things. So, maybe, a part of him was thinking with his dick when he asked them the question. But he was going to stand by it. “Do you want to see it?”
“Fuck yes,” Roz replied right away and it mixed in with Hollander’s still awed, “Absolutely.”
~~~
Luca sat on the bed again, back at the foot of it, with Ilya and Shane on either side of him. They’d taken the side of their respective posters and a small part of his mind wondered if they’d noticed. The rest of it was fixed on the sketchbook open on his lap, and the back of Shane and Ilya’s hands where they brushed against his upper thigh every time they adjusted their hold on its covers.
On the pages in front of them a younger Shane sat astride a pair of thighs. Luca had put him in a loose tank top, like something this version of Shane would have worn to the gym, the number 24 fixed on the back of it and nothing else. Luca had drawn the curve of Shane’s ass stretched over the thick expanse of Ilya’s thighs some five years ago and now he was sitting on the bed between both of them.
Ilya’s finger came up to touch, then stopped to hover over the rendering of Shane’s waist as if remembering himself.
“It’s okay,” Luca whispered. “You can touch it.” He immediately flushed, reddened, and swallowed the words all at once.
Permission now given, Ilya barely noticed Luca’s reaction, completely focused on the sketch. Shane’s finger came up and traced the corners of a bear tattoo that peeked past Shane’s shoulder. There wasn’t a loon tattoo yet. He had only drawn a few with it before he was drafted.
“Show more,” Ilya demanded.
Shane chuckled, then chastised him in a tone that made his fondness clear.
“You don’t find it weird?” Luca asked, had to ask, because he didn’t want to offend, or even scandalize them. “I don’t want you to see anything that makes you think--”
“This is beautiful,” Shane cut in. “You are so gifted.” The heavy weight of Shane’s focus moved from the page to Luca himself, and he honestly didn’t think he could handle it. He squirmed, looked away, but then lifted his eyes again because it sounded like Shane had more to say. “I can’t think of a single thing you could draw of us, a single way you could imagine us, that would make us upset.”
Luca’s mind scrambled past mermen universes, cute chibi sketches, straight to the page he knew he had Shane on his knees, teeth clamped around a ballgag with Ilya standing behind him, arms lifted to show off his sizable triceps as he held a paddle from both ends over his head. “Um, well, see…”
“We are very kinky,” Ilya assured, leaning forward to smirk in Luca’s face. “It is always the quiet ones, yes, Hollander?”
“Shut up,” Shane quipped back before agreeing.
Ilya's face was still close to Luca’s; below him Shane brushed his finger down his own drawn calf muscle straining to support the wide stance over Ilya’s lap.
“He is very pretty, yes?” Ilya asked.
Shane’s hand stopped brushing and the finger lifted to reach Luca’s chin, turning it towards him. “These cheekbones,” Shane whispered.
“His lips,” Ilya added.
“The way his blond hair makes his complexion even paler, so every patch of red embarrassment stands out all the more,” Shane observed, thumb brushing over his cheek, presumably over one of those patches.
"It is all very pretty.”
“Yes, he is.” Shane breathed the words so softly that if they hadn’t been so close he would never have heard them... Dropping his hand from Luca’s chin, Shane gestured towards the sketchbook again. “I would love to see what you’ve drawn, everything you’ve envisioned.”
“Yes, pretty and creative.” Ilya knocked their shoulders together softly, probably not to jostle Shane before adding, “Your partners are very lucky.”
Luca snorted, mumbled a, “What partners?” under his breath before turning to the next page. Any comments they were going to make were swept away by the sight of the next fanart, Ilya sprawled naked across a hotel room bed. It was so detailed there was a room phone sitting on the nightstand, so detailed in the way Ilya crunched up to watch the foot of the bed, hands behind his head and elbows out wide, muscles emphasized with every curve and shadow of his abs, down to where his legs fell open and Shane kneeled between them, lips parted and reaching for Ilya’s dripping hard cock.
“Fuck,” Shane whispered.
“Da,” Ilya echoed.
Fingers came in unison to brush along the page, Ilya’s running over the hint of Shane’s tongue, Shane drifting up the length of Ilya’s dick.
“He is thicker,” Shane commented.
Luca sucked in a shuddery breath. “Oh?”
“Yes,” Ilya replied as his free hand came to rest on Luca’s thigh. “Maybe I will show you. For art.”
“Ilya, gross.”
“What! I help!”
“That was the cheesiest come on--”
“Ye--yes!” Luca cut in because he wasn't going to let a chance like this pass him by, even if it meant he had to break up one of their banters. Looking back, every back-and-forth banter was like a porn to watch, chirps and catty remarks volleying until a heat lit between them. But right now, Ilya Rozanov just asked him if he wanted to see his dick and Shane Hollander would not ruin that for him.
What had his life become?
“More pages first.” Ilya flashed a knowing smile. “Then, we will see.”
Following Ilya’s order, Luca turned the pages. There were a few of them in locker rooms, in showers, up against walls, thrown over desks. With each turn of the page, Ilya’s hand slipped higher and higher on Luca's thigh. Shane’s hand ran up and down Luca’s back, across the small of it, over his hip, and Luca was so turned on, oversensitive and practically vibrating, that he didn’t realize he’d stopped turning the pages. They didn’t seem to mind, both fully focused on the newly revealed page.
This one was them on Luca’s bed, the subjects of the posters gone, vanished from their backgrounds, now hanging empty on the drawn walls. Instead, the two of them were naked and entangled on Luca’s bed.
Under the sketchbook, Ilya ran the tip of his pinky against the length of Luca’s cock as he lowered the book to the floor.
All three of them were visibly hard. Luca’s breath caught in his throat, unable to process beyond that fact.
“Shane?” Ilya whispered. Ilya’s hand appeared in front of him, palm up, waiting for Shane’s to slide into it. After he did, Ilya continued. “What is the word for when you see beautiful art and think, yes we should do that?”
“Recreate?”
“Yes. Yes?”
“Yes.”
He tugged Shane up onto Luca’s bed, and Shane easily followed until they were lying there on their backs, on top of Luca’s sheets, staring at him.
Ilya smirked. “What position would you like us in?”
“Fuck,” Luca replied. “Is this real?”
Shane ran a hand through Ilya’s hair. “I get that you’d feel that way, but yes.” His focus shifted more towards Luca, even as his hand stayed locked in his husband’s curls. “We are here, in your bed, just like you’ve imagined.”
“You are very lucky.”
“Ilya…” Shane chastised, even as Luca blurted out, “Obviously.”
“What! He is, and now we are letting him watch us--” Lying side-by-side on Luca’s bed, Ilya leaned in, tilting his head, and kissed Shane unlike any chaste pecks Luca had seen before. This was tongue first and filthy, claiming. “--letting him direct us--” He rolled over Shane until his back hit the mattress and he rocked his hips up in the air, performing under Ilya’s lead as the man continued with a deadly, “--letting him join us.”
Luca swallowed, throat closing tight but he managed to continue, “I. I’ve never--I’ve never been with anyone before.”
If anything, the heat in their gazes only darkened as they shuffled on the bed to look at Luca. Shane spoke first. “You draw such beautiful, erotic--”
“I have an overactive imagination and the internet.”
Ilya stared at him, slightly higher than Shane on the bed, hand running through Shane’s hair. “We will be your firsts, yes? Make all your dreams come true.”
Not even Shane chastised him on that line because they all knew it was the truth.
“Make all my dreams come true,” Luca echoed.
Ilya’s smirk morphed into something much more predatory. “Yes,” he confirmed. “And first, because you are a very good boy, you get to watch.”
Good boy.
The words struck like a lightning bolt, suspending him to that moment in time as the world continued around him. Ilya tugged Shane until he was over him, straddling him, legs spread over his thighs just like in that first drawing. Luca’s cock throbbed as his brain rushed back into the present with a surge of desire.
“Yes…” Luca whispered and the word floated away as shirts came off, muscles bared and hands groping. They really liked grabbing at each other--a sketch formed in his mind, of this moment, Shane on top of Ilya, Ilya grabbing his pec so hard the muscle squeezed between his fingers. Pages and pages of the details--Ilya twisted his hand, loosening it to grab more of the curve of him before squeezing again. This time Shane’s nipple appeared between two of Ilya’s fingers and he brought them together to the sounds of Shane gasping and moaning.
“Fuck.” The mattress shifted under Luca as he turned to fully face them but he dared not leave the foot of the bed. His cock strained against the zipper of his pants and he knew a whimper was forming in his throat, knew soon a bead of precome would show through the light blue of his pants.
The whimper broke through and both of them paused, shifting so they were still lying down but now they were facing Luca. Having the full attention of one of these men would have been enough to fluster him. Both had him in a near frenzied state. He brought his hand to the front of his pants and palmed himself under their stare. Their eyes dropped to the touch in one fluid motion and Luca moaned again.
“Very pretty,” Ilya murmured.
Shane hummed. “Yes.” He caught Luca’s gaze and Luca forgot how to breathe. Shane watched him. “This…” he gestured to themselves, to Luca, to the bed. “I know this isn’t something you’ve done before.”
A breathy laugh escaped his chest. Shane was still staring at him. “Yeah, no, not often.” Luca swallowed. “Not ever.”
Shane softened, smiling and reaching for Luca’s hand and lifted himself so he was more sitting than lying on Luca’s childhood bed. “Take a breath.”
Luca took a breath, then another. The desire simmered but didn’t overwhelm, and Shane taking control like this was causing a whole other avenue of lust to form. Shane’s hand was still warm in Luca’s palm and Ilya sat up behind Shane, running his fingers up and down Shane’s back, watching.
Luca took another breath, his gaze traveling up from Ilya’s hand, over his arm, to his lips, then to his eyes, which were staring back at Luca. With Luca’s full attention on him, Ilya came to life, that hand going higher along Shane’s back, over his shoulder, dragging his fingers down along Shane’s collarbone, his chest, back to his nipple. Ilya pinched the nub and Shane moaned, dropping his head back onto Ilya’s shoulder as he tugged at Luca’s hand, so he stumbled forward onto the bed.
Closer to them.
Their clasped hands fell towards the bed and broke apart. Luca’s hand landed on Ilya’s thigh, and Ilya lifted his leg into the touch, thighs inching open for Luca. He wouldn’t have had to move his fingers much, to brush up against his inner thigh.
Luca’s cock throbbed. He kept his hand where it was. Ilya smirked. “So many sexy drawings, but never have you touched, yes?”
Luca nodded.
“Time to touch, yes Shane?” Ilya winked at Luca.
Shane rolled his head back from Ilya’s shoulder and looked at Luca. Ilya’s fingers still played at Shane’s nipples.
“His lips look really soft,” Shane replied.
“You would look so beautiful kissing one another, him blond with pink cheeks and you so dark and handsome with freckles. Mmm yes, I would like to see.” His hand released Shane’s nipple and fell to his hip, his lips came to the side of Shane’s neck, his eyes were on Luca. The thick tendon of his neck danced as Shane gasped and Luca watched Ilya bite against the sensitive skin a second before Shane breathed, “Yes, kiss me Haasy.”
Shane rarely used the nickname, and it crashed into Luca, causing an aching need unlike anything he’d ever felt before. Luca lunged forward and brought his hands up to Shane’s face, cupping the curve of his jaw, fingers diving into the loose tie holding back his hair. It fell with his touch and Luca grabbed onto more of it as he brought his lips to Shane’s. Shane chased him when he pulled back, biting on his lower lip and Luca collided back into him, parting his lips for Shane’s tongue.
Next to them, Ilya shifted and then his palm was at Luca’s hip, lifting to drag up the side of him, along his stomach, over his straining erection. Luca gasped into Shane’s mouth and was about to pull away to see what Ilya was doing when the man tsked and Shane’s hand came up to the back of Luca’s head, deepening the kiss. As Luca melted back into it, Ilya’s hand began to move again.
“This looks very uncomfortable,” Ilya commented. His fingers danced over the front of his pants, too light to be any real pressure, but still causing him to leak profusely. “It would be mean of us to leave you this way, and we are wholesome golden boys of hockey.” Shane chuckled into the kiss as Ilya continued, “We will help.”
Those talented, devilish fingers found the button of Luca’s pants and slipped it open, his cock practically pushed the zipper down from there, but that didn’t mean those fingers didn’t find their way in his pants, slipping through the front of his underwear and wrapping around his cock.
Luca shuddered, rocking between Shane’s lips and Ilya’s hand and he couldn’t help it, the sudden reality interlaced with the confident stroke of Ilya’s huge callused hand and the swiping proprietary strokes of Shane’s tongue in his mouth rocketed through him, and he spurted right into Ilya’s hand not even thirty seconds after he touched him.
His hips rolled on their own, chasing the ends of his pleasure while mortification coiled into him for going off like the virgin he was in front of the men of his living fantasy.
Then Shane broke from his lips and gasped. “Wow, that’s so hot.” His eyes were on Ilya’s hand covered in the evidence of Luca’s shame.
Shane licked his lips and Ilya shifted closer to him, holding out his hand. “Would you like a taste, my naughty kotik?”
Luca stared as Shane wrapped his hands around Ilya’s wrist and brought it up to his mouth, tongue peeking out between lips that were red and puffy from Luca’s own. And when he caught Luca’s eye right as his tongue got its first taste, Luca’s spent cock twitched in Ilya’s loose fist.
“He likes it,” Ilya informed. “His cock is jumping even though he just exploded all over my hand. He must really want you to eat his come, Shane. Fill your mouth with the taste of him, then kiss him again. Maybe you will not be done after you finish with the load on my hand, maybe you will need it right from the source.”
Luca whimpered and rocked into Ilya’s hand, then hissed at Ilya’s calloused palm rubbing against his overly sensitive cock. But he couldn’t deny, he was hardening again and Ilya noticed.
“I think virginity is really a superpower,” Ilya observed. Then he pulled both his hands from Shane and Luca--they both whined in unison and Ilya looked very, very smug at the sight of it. “Such pretty, needy boys, wanting me so bad--”
“Shove it, Rozanov,” Shane shot back.
Ilya unbuckled his pants and pulled them down his thick thighs, quickly taking off his remaining clothing so he could throw himself on his husband, push him back onto the bed and kiss him senseless for a solid minute before pulling back and saying to a very winded Shane, “Okay, I shove.”
Luca laughed. He’d never thought to make any of his fanart like this. When he drew them naked they were serious, romantic, passionate, but never playful, and it made Luca want to pick up a pencil so badly, capture in graphite the dimple in Ilya’s cheek and challenge in his stare. Immortalize the way Shane was pretending to dislodge himself from under him.
Luca watched as the playful turned to loving and the loving turned into kissing again only this time for no other agenda than to taste each other. Ilya only broke away long enough to tell Luca, “Take off your clothes.”
Luca reacted automatically as Ilya pushed down Shane’s pants. Shane arched into Ilya’s touch when Ilya palmed his boxers, teasing Shane’s straining cock. Shane’s moans filled his childhood bedroom, and it was so hot Luca was fully hard again.
Only this time he was naked, and so was the couple in front of him. Shane straddled Ilya again, and Ilya’s hands didn’t stay at Shane’s hips like they did in Luca’s drawing, they wandered and groped, fingers digging into Shane’s crack with purpose.
With every squeeze and pull, Ilya stretched Shane’s ass apart. Luca couldn’t look away. He even shifted on the bed, needing to reach the best angle to catch a glimpse of Shane’s hole. The movement caught Ilya’s attention and he pulled away from Shane’s lips. Shane’s mouth immediately found Ilya’s neck and Ilya tilted his head to accommodate his husband, all while still staring at Luca with a knowing grin.
“Are there any drawings in there with spread cheeks and a needy hole?”
Luca’s hand squeezed the base of his cock as he shook his head. He’d always drawn them embracing, kissing, maybe grinding if he was feeling risky. It was easy to picture now an entire page on the way Ilya’s fingers were so big they could spread Shane’s cheeks and tease at his rim at the same time. A study on Shane Hollander’s hole would be worthy of any sketchbook, devote the whole thing to it.
“Have you ever fingered yourself?” Ilya asked, drawing Luca’s gaze back up to his face.
“Yes,” Luca replied, not knowing where this was going but willing to follow along cock-first.
“Did it feel good?”
“Well…yeah, of course.”
Ilya smiled. “Would you like to make my Shane feel good too?”
“Yes.” Luca squeezed his cock again. “More than anything.”
“Then let us hope your childhood bedroom is still stocked with lube.” Ilya grabbed Shane by the hips again, dragging him up his own lap then down again, before stretching apart his ass and tapping on his hole. “Or maybe we will take turns spitting in it, and hope that is enough.”
“Ilya!” Shane began to protest. “We will not--”
“I have lube,” Luca broke in before they could do something devastating like pull apart and start bickering like they were back in the locker room instead of well on their way to fuck in front of Luca, with Luca. Luca swore under his breath, still unable to accept this as reality even as he reached over the bed to his nightstand where a bottle of lube waited in the drawer.
He handed it to Ilya. Ilya shook his head. “Coat two fingers well, get him nice and wet and he’ll moan when you give him the third one dry.”
Shane whimpered against Ilya’s neck. “He’s right,” Shane murmured before crashing his lips against Ilya’s again. Ilya laid back against the bed and Shane’s hips tilted up. Strong hands were back to spread Shane apart, and Luca did exactly what Ilya had told him to do.
Once he finished lubing his fingers, he shuffled closer to where Shane straddled Ilya.
“That’s it,” Ilya encouraged. “Now lean in and touch him.”
Luca placed his other hand on Shane’s lower back, running along the dimples there. Shane was so beautiful, every detail of him a mix of hard and soft, an artist's dream. He brought his other hand down the center of him until he reached the furled skin of Shane’s hole.
“Yes,” Shane moaned. “Luca, do it.”
“So demanding,” Ilya tsked. “What happened to letting the boy lead?”
“You led him straight to my hole, so there is obviously no longer any need to take it slow,” Shane reasoned.
Ilya hummed. “That is a lot of thoughts for someone who should be moaning for cock.”
Luca didn’t expect the banter to have an edge to it, but now that he heard it, now that he saw the way it made Shane’s eyes light with the challenge it made sense.
“Give me something to moan about, Rozanov.”
Ilya stared at Shane for a moment, his lips parting and tongue flicking out to drag over his bottom lip. His mouth loosened into a mocking smile and when he broke his gaze and dragged his focus towards Luca, his breath caught at the sight. Shane’s provocation darkened Ilya, turned his cheekbones sharp and eyes keen. Watching, controlling, staring at Luca.
“Do it, Luca. Prep him for my cock.”
Luca did what he was told, not even looking down at his fingers, holding Ilya’s gaze as he pushed past the rim. And then he was inside Shane, the tight ring squeezing hard right below his fingernail and he had to look down, had to see as he slipped further and further into him. Shane’s back arched and the moan he let out went straight to Luca’s cock, and still he kept going, past his knuckle, down, down until he was flush against Luca’s hand.
He took Luca easily, far easier than Luca could ever take a finger, and he tried not to think of all the ways he and Ilya had probably stretched him out, and he had to squeeze the base of his cock hard. Only instead of staving off his orgasm, he let his hand stroke upwards, moving in time with his fingers in Shane’s ass.
Ilya must’ve noticed the movement because as he watched his finger slide in and out of Shane he heard him ask, “What do you want, Haasy? You are so hard and we want to make you feel good too.”
“Yes,” Shane gasped out when Luca thrusted in again, curling his finger and searching for that spot. “Yes. Want to make you--Oh, yeah, right there--feel as good as you are me.”
Luca licked his lips. “I’m making you feel good?” He curled his finger again the exact same way.
“You can have his mouth,” Ilya broke through again. “Or my mouth.” Ilya let his suggestion hang in the air for a moment before continuing, “Add a second finger, and begin to stretch him.”
Luca did as he was told, brain unable to move past Ilya’s suggestions. It was created behind his eyes the most explicit sketch of them on their knees in front of Luca, jersey clad with their mouths open, waiting.
“Or maybe you want to fuck him too, right after me when he's filled with my come--” Another image to add to a now planned and very salacious sketchbook page “--Or maybe he fucks you while I fuck him?” Ilya smirked, then winked. “Or maybe I line you both up on the side of the bed and take turns.”
“Fuck, Ilya,” Shane moaned. “He’s going to come from your filthy mouth if you keep going like that.”
“Wh--What he said.”
“What do you want, Luca?” Ilya asked, again, his smirk reappearing. “For this time.”
“This time?” Luca stretched his fingers, felt the tension of Shane’s ass and how it eased under his touch. The thought that he could have them again made him curl his fingers again, harder, and savor the way Shane’s arch deepened and his cock bounced against his stomach.
“I--I want,” Shane panted as he rode Luca’s hand. “I want to see more of your drawings.”
“Oh, yes,” Ilya agreed. “Next time.”
Luca took in a sharp breath, and managed an, “Okay.”
“What do you--”
“Kiss me?”
Ilya grinned and inched towards Luca. “Of course.”
A strong arm wrapped around Luca’s waist and tugged him close. The rough motion made his hand jerk, which made Shane gasp, which made Ilya laugh. And then Ilya’s lips were on Luca’s. He took control of the kiss immediately, licking open Luca’s lips and running their tongues together.
He didn’t linger long though, breaking away with a few soft lingering kisses. “I can kiss you all night, kid, but my Shane goes off quick and you’ve been torturing his prostate for a while. So unless what you want is to make a pretty little mess, you should remove your hand.”
The thought tempted him, he knew it was another he’d draw one day, but for now he wanted to know what it felt like to have what Shane was having right now, what it would feel like to have someone inside him pressing pleasure parts of him that were so hard to reach on his own. To have that someone be Shane or Ilya.
He also wanted to replace his fingers with his cock, take Shane over that edge by rolling his hips against him instead of his hand.
He told Ilya exactly what he wanted.
The feel of them moving, rearranging themselves. Ilya settled back against the headboard as Luca climbed over his lap, facing outward. Ilya’s broad thighs shifted beneath him while his hands directed Luca’s hips into place. Shane handed Ilya the lube. Luca perched above Ilya’s lap, cock twitching in front of him as if seeking Shane’s attention.
Shane’s cheeks were pink, flushed from pleasure Luca had wrung out of him. As if reading his mind, Shane’s eyes narrowed and his hand wrapped around Luca’s cock. “It will be easier to take his fingers if you’re distracted.”
“Hollander is expert in bottoming,” Ilya supplied as he lubed up his fingers.
“Oh fuck off, Rozanov.”
Luca thrust up into Shane’s fist, chasing the friction. Then Ilya’s wet fingers were on his ass. Luca kept his eyes on Shane’s as Ilya breached him for the first time, and Shane gave him a knowing smile when he fell apart over how big Ilya’s fingers felt. His prep was purposeful, barely teasing at all, opening him without lingering at all, all while Luca let out breathy moans and pleas for more.
Ilya bit at his shoulder and when his hips jerked, Shane squeezed hard and delicious. “Next time, I will take you apart so slowly you are waiting for hours, begging for one of us to fuck you, suck you, take you.”
Luca whimpered.
“I’m going to take you now. Pull you down onto my cock, and then Shane, open and waiting, will slide down on you.”
They moved, following Ilya’s orders in an orchestrated dance, condoms and lubes passed around and rolled on straining cocks. Ilya had him by the hips again. Shane dropped Luca’s cock and a whine escaped Luca’s throat, until Shane’s hands were on either side of his ass, opening him for his husband’s cock.
One of Ilya’s hands moved from his hip, dragging up his spine to rest on his shoulder. Luca followed the slight pressure, the instructive touch as it pressed down, and he lowered his hips. Shane’s hands moved when Ilya’s cock breached his rim, running along his chest, pinching his nipple, one coming to rest on his empty shoulder and the other curling around his jaw, fingers in Luca’s hair, bringing their lips back together.
As Ilya claimed every inch of him, Shane kissed him, tasting and nipping at Luca’s lips until Ilya bottomed out. Then he pulled back and gave Luca a wink so reminiscent of his husband before turning around and facing his ass towards Luca. Before Luca could even begin to scramble to raise his hands and guide Shane, Shane was reaching back for Luca’s hard cock gripping hard where the condom wrapped around the base of him. Without even a moment's hesitation, his cock was where his fingers had been, splitting Shane apart to the sounds of greedy moans.
And that’s how Luca lost his virginity. He would wonder for years to come if this erotic and life altering experience was what hurtled him into becoming vers. To have both of them at the same time, the thick expanse of Ilya’s cock filling him so well, brushing along intimate spots so deep inside him, and pushing him with each thrust upward into Shane’s tight ass, over and over.
After getting worked up for what felt like hours, Luca knew he wouldn’t last long, even with his earlier orgasm. Not with Shane’s hips rolling and taking him, not when Luca wrapped a hand around to grab Shane’s cock and Ilya’s hand joined him seconds after. Not with Ilya biting on his neck, whispering into the skin filthy promises, impromptu fantasies. Luca would try his whole life to capture on page the over the shoulder expression Shane gave him before he exploded into their joined hands. It started a cascade, Ilya’s hips jerking at the feel of his husband’s come and gripping hard at Luca’s hip to chase the fervor of it. The hard touch pulled Luca back on Ilya’s cock, dragging over his prostate and he exploded into the feel of Shane’s ass still fluttering around his cock.
Shane collapsed forward first and Luca followed after him, breathless. The mattress shifted, and Luca watched in a daze to see that Ilya hadn’t come yet, but instead was lifting to his knees, staring at Shane and Luca as he ripped off his condom. Luca and Shane had landed in intertwined limbs and loose, soft kisses but they both stopped to stare back at Ilya. His hand ran over his cock, eyes roaming every place they touched each other, fixing on their faces then closing with a moan. His cock twitched its release and his eyes flew open again to watch as it fell in long ropes over Shane’s freckles, Luca’s lips, down their chests and over their cocks.
When he was done he stood over them both, Shane murmured, “Messy,” then laughed softly, airy. Luca’s entire body tingled. Ilya remained on his knees, staring.
“I would like you to draw us like this, Haasy.”
Luca looked at him hovering over them, taking in the way his chest heaved with each panted breath; he rolled his head on the bed and met Shane’s gaze, his sated smile. He knew he’d remember this moment for the rest of his life.
“Okay.”
~~~~
Luca sketched a curve in dark pencil, revealing the shape of an often sketched broad chest, a familiar bear tattoo, an impressive bicep. Down the page, but still part of the same scene, Shane sat, the thick curves of his muscular thigh spread, and another figure sat between them, lips parted.
They’d arrived at the meeting almost twenty minutes early, the first ones to make it, so Luca pulled out his other sketchbook and idly drew while the other two watched, commented, teased. Luca knew he was bright red, knew they were enjoying how he squirmed in his seat between them.
The meeting room door sprang open. Luca froze. Panic ran through him like someone would be able to see from half a room away what was on his page. And then Ilya’s hand came to Luca’s knee, settling, and Shane casually flipped the sketchbook closed, so naturally no one would ever question it.