Chapter Text
Shane
It was easy to forget about the incident with how busy Shane made himself be. It was the second time something happened between him and Rozanov—for him at least. If for some way Rozanov remembered their first night during freshers, he didn't let it be known.
It was probably his fault for coming home so late from the rink knowing a lot of student houses would be hosting parties that weekend.
As the first semester went by, Shane was buried in studies. Every week, there was a quiz or an assignment, turning into midterms, practical exams, and finals. And if it weren’t about his coursework, he was in the rink, practicing until the campus fell asleep.
He barely saw the rest of his housemates or remembered the people in his class. He had no time to party or make friends. Well, he had his teammates—he had Hayden who was always there to support him. But he fell in love with a girl named Jackie. He was happy to see Hayden always in his best mood, seeing true love in his eyes every time she surprised him at practice.
But Hayden being a sports science major meant they had different classes, meaning they mostly saw each other during practice.
He also cherished his new friend, Svetlana.
Svetlana was there since his first day of class. Sitting quietly and alone similar to Shane. They got closer once they randomly became partners for an assignment. She was as knowledgeable in hockey as Shane was, being a part of the women’s hockey team in Cens.
It was one of his rare days off where the only thing he had to do was attend a physical therapy session for the week. He had no major or minor injuries, so it was mainly for a routine wellness check.
He entered the room to find Rozanov on the couch with a movie on the TV.
They don’t acknowledge one another as Shane entered, going directly to the kitchen to fill his water bottle with ice cold water.
Rozanov was focused on the movie, taking notes in his notebook every now and then. But Shane noticed he frequently stretched his back and rolled his shoulders with a grimace on his face.
“Are you okay?” Shane asked, not thinking any further about interacting with his housemate. He shouldn’t act like them sucking each other's dicks should stop him from showing basic compassion.
Rozanov pulled his attention away from the screen and glanced at him briefly before focusing back on the movie.
“Yes. My shoulders are just a little stiff.”
He stood there, seeing Rozanov pay him no mind as he continued to watch the movie. He could leave, go to his room and mind his own business…but he stayed.
“I can try and help,” Shane offered.
Other than being regularly treated by the university team physical therapist often, he majored in Kinesiology—he knew a thing or two about human anatomy, relating it to the science behind sports. It always satisfied him to know how everything worked, and how to make sure he was always at his best.
Rozanov twisted his head and looked at him.
“I just went to my team’s physical therapist, actually. I know a few stretches that can actually help,” he shrugged.
“Hmm,” Rozanov stuck his pen in between the pages of his notebook and placed them on the coffee table.
“Ok,” he nodded, and rolled his shoulders once more, cracking his neck as Shane walked over.
Rozanov was wearing a tank top, showcasing his big arms. Shane would’ve guessed him as another athlete by how he’s built.
Shane stood behind the couch, hovering over Rozanov who held his back straight, looking back at the movie he didn’t pause.
From his bag, he took the small bottle of eucalyptus oil—his favorite one that he always preferred their therapist use on him. He rubbed some on his hands, warming the oil before he laid his arms on Rozanov’s shoulder, massaging the back slowly to warm up the muscles, helping blood flow better.
He kneaded his thumbs up towards Rozanov’s neck, admiring the constellation of moles across his back. They were even beautiful in the daylight.
Rozanov hummed at the pressure. Shane could feel a slight tightness in his muscles, probably from sitting for long periods of time. He could also feel the strong built muscles that any athlete would love to have.
A body anyone would love to have their hands on.
Shane scooped up Roz’s elbow and raised his arm, his own elbow in the crease of his neck, stretching the muscles and doing the same on the other arm.
He was too focused on making sure his form was good, hitting the proper places in between muscles to notice the sudden change in scene in the movie in front of them.
A couple started to make out under the dim lights of a club, moving to a more secure location to get more touchy. They both only had their underwear left as the guy laid on the bed, watching the girl crawl on top of him.
Finding Rozanov very focused with his notes out gave the impression that it was for coursework. Not that there was anything wrong with a sex scene. It was just unfortunate for him to hear moans and lewd sucking sounds as he massaged his housemate.
Shane immediately put his focus back onto Roz, thinking about the science behind the relationship of one’s bones and muscles, letting the scent of eucalyptus fill his lungs.
He treated this interaction more like practicing his knowledge from the past months of studies, but he was also being kind to his housemate who happened to watch almost full blown porn in their living room TV.
They stayed like this for minutes, Shane silently and slowly working on Roz’s shoulders while he continued to watch his movie, seemingly unmoved to what was happening. He was grateful it was quick, the movie not showing anything too graphic.
Shane pushed a little harder, making the boy beneath him groan. Shane felt relief at the effectiveness of his massage.
“Do you feel a strain in your neck too?”
“Mhm, a little,” Rozanov breathed, evidently more relaxed now.
He carefully demonstrated how to crack his neck properly so that he could do it by himself next time. His hands were on both sides of Rozanov’s face, shifting and pushing, hearing small cracks from his neck.
He finished off the same way he started, kneading all over his shoulders a little harder than before.
Rozanov moaned, letting his head fall on the back of the couch, making Shane’s hands fall to his biceps, still continuing the massage—something he didn’t plan on doing, but his hands couldn’t leave Roz’s body.
He ignored the way the only Rozanov’s moan sent a jolt to his groin.
He gazed at the sharp yet soft features across Rozanov’s face. Soft, curly hair falling over his forehead, a little too unkempt compared to the last time Shane saw him.
“Your hands feel so good, Hollander,” he murmured.
His eyes opened slowly, sleepy and gentle blues instantly landing on Shane’s studying gaze. He wasn’t even massaging Rozanov anymore, he was just touching and feeling the big biceps beneath his palms.
Their eyes bore into one another’s before a bang shocked them both back to reality, both their attentions instantly towards the gunshot fired on the screen, hands quickly leaving Roz’s body.
“Thank you,” said Rozanov, feeling the shoulders Shane had worked on for the past minutes.
“Anytime, Rozanov,” he replied, bringing himself back to the incident where Rozanov replied the same way before he retreated back to his room without another glance.
He spent his afternoon catching up with his parents, making plans with Svetlana, and reading on his bed.
He did not find himself wanting Rozanov to knock on his door throughout the day.
Because he would have been very disappointed to hear nothing from his housemate when he settled in for the night, sleeping with the lingering feeling of Rozanov on his fingertips.