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The Bears weren't suppose to be here. In his home. Obviously they were not invited. Ilya would have never done that on this day. He had been thinking about the Boston v Montreal game for months, because it meant being able to see Shane, to spend time with him. It had occupied his waking and dreaming thoughts. He'd texted 'Jane' in equal parts to work the other man up and to give himself an outlet.
So of course, the fucking Boston Bear hockey team was not supposed to be here. They knew he had a roster of girls including 'Montreal Jane' that meant he was busy when over there. But there was no way for those clueless fucking boys to know Ilya had really specifically wanted some alone time now here in Boston after the Montreal game. He hadn't told them anything. And they had thought to surprise him.
Him, here at his home. And he wasn't dressed, and he wasn't in his bedroom. No, they were sprawled on his couch, in the middle of his living room, a completely open room that lead to the kitchen and hallway. 'They' because he wasn't alone. Which was the terrible, horrible problem.
Ilya had been staring at the ceiling, half-drifting, unsure if he had ever fallen asleep and joined Shane in a nap, or just closed his eyes. Basking in the loose-limb relaxation that came from being so well fucked; and yet far out enough from the post-orgasm haze to be considering if they could go for another round. That was when he had heard a noise.
He hadn't been able to place it at first. It certainly wasn't his doorbell, or a knock. It sounded like... footsteps? If Ilya's life had been different, his first thought might have been a burglar. A threat to his life or property. Well, it was a threat to his life in a sense. Ilya tensed all over and lifted his arm from where it was wrapped around Shane's back to cover his head.
Ilya realized in that split second of someone (multiple someones in fact) pushing into his entrance and far enough into the kitchen to see past the fire place to see where he was that he could do nothing to hide his secret. He was clearly shirtless, and there was very clearly an also shirtless man sleeping on his chest. Shane's athletic hockey build was a world away from some twink androgynous look he could explain away.
It was over for him. They clearly were not platonic cuddling, and despite the huge room, it well- all smell of sex. There was a fucking box of condoms and lube on the Goddamn coffee table. But- but like this they couldn't see Shane's face. If Ilya got up, if he threatened them- or did more than and got physical -which was not guaranteed to work for protecting his secret-, he'd be exposing Shane.
So Ilya stayed flat on the couch though his muscles screamed at him to jump up and fight. He was more than his instincts and tried to calm down, to untense his hold around Shane that would wake him up. He wished Shane was wearing his hoodie so Ilya could hide him better but using his palm and tugging up the blankets was the best he could manage as he stared down his team.
Quickly and quietly most of them took in the scene with an 'oh shit' expression, as though that would 'put the cat back into the bag'. Ilya glared intently as he spoke in a terse, quite, hiss, "You can be upset, but you are going to be fucking quiet because if you vake my guest, I'm sending all my blackmail on you to your vives, and zen I'm going to start fucking zem to help zem get ower the divorce."
Marlow, the over grown mutt, payed that no mind as he excitedly, but quietly said, "You're gay!" At least it wasn't with scorn or vitriol but enthusiastic eagerness. Ilya could all but see his tail wagging.
"No, I’m fucking bisexual who is fucking a gay." Ilya didn't- didn't know exactly why he didn't want them to think he had been 'faking' or failing to fuck women all this time. It shouldn't have really mattered. It wouldn't matter if this got out. Ilya lied to himself and told himself it was so they knew to fear his threat.
Hammersmith started with some 'Why didn't you tell us' bullshit as though they weren't all professional hockey players, and he wasn't fucking Russian. Not that these guys knew the first thing about geopolitical realities to know why 'being Russian' mattered.
They had a furious whisper conversation with Shane blissfully unaware, sleeping on Ilya's chest as Ilya's life imploded around them both. Until it must have gotten heated enough for him to stir. Ilya kept one hand on his face, firmly keeping him pressed against his shoulder, and lifted another to scruff him by the back of the neck.
Shane let out a loud pleased moan, melting against Ilya and tonguing at his neck. Fuck, was that Shane's cock stirring against his hip? Shit, Ilya couldn't do this right now, though Shane felt so hot and heavy against him. It wasn't like Shane was going to get quieter, the Canadian only got louder as he got more worked up. Ilya needed to shut him up.
And so the Bears watched in stunned silence as their fierce captain used the softest voice they had ever heard, "Shhh quiet time now mоя любовь. Back to sleep." He then glared down the Bears, demanding their silence. And then- to their shock and amazement, he- he shut up his partner by shoving fingers into that mouth. It was almost impossible to see from this angle but judging by his throat it looked like- that half-asleep man.... suckled on them?! Where did Ilya keep finding people like this? And now they knew their captain was pulling with women and men! Holy fuck.
It was kind of- some of the Bears looked at each other. Some of the Bears very pointedly did not. Looking at the floor, looking at the ceiling. Did they know men could make such pretty noises like that? Or be so clearly that down bad for it? There had always been that rumor that men were better at sucking cock because they had been on the receiving end, but now they were wondering about that much more concretely.
The Bears left, cowed by their captain's threats and apologetic from this violation of privacy. They vowed secrecy on their captain's orientation. The real thing the Bears had learnt was some things about themselves. But crucially, none of them had learnt who their captain was fucking.