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“The view was not bad. From behind. Almost worth staying there.”
“How do you know?” “I have a nose.” Ilya booped the tip of Shane’s nose. “A cute one.”
Ilya traced the hem of one leg of the shorts where it was pulled tight against Shane’s thigh. “I think your dick would rip right through these if you got hard.”
“I wouldn’t mind boring,” Shane mumbled. “Shane loves boring,” Ilya said.
Shane loved Ilya so much it physically hurt to contain it some days.
He kissed him quickly. “I love you.” Ilya gave him one of his crooked, sexy smiles. “Of course. Why wouldn’t you?”
He was terrified that one day Shane would realize he could be with someone who wasn’t a dark secret. That it could be easy to love someone.
He’d never expected to be part of a family, and have parents again.
“I think you’d like what we did today.” Ilya spoke quietly, in Russian, to the sky. “I hope you are proud.”
He closed his eyes and focused on how good it felt to be with Shane, alone in the dark, and tried not to wish it could be the same in the light.
“That’s a long time to keep a secret,” Fabian said thoughtfully. “Isn’t that a distraction too? Having to hide?”
“We are very good at pretending to not be in love. Maybe we are bad at showing it when we are allowed.”
“I’m glad you’re such a show-off,” Shane said. Ilya patted his back. “I am glad you get hard so easily.”
Sometimes Ilya was so starved for touch he felt like screaming. He felt it most when Shane was close, like he was now, but off-limits.
he missed being touched. He missed the endorphin rush he used to get from hooking up with people, and how relaxed he’d felt after. He missed meeting new people, talking to them, charming them.
Most of all, though, he missed the comfort he got from human touch. Right now, in this club in Montreal, he wanted that comfort from the man he was in love with.
Kiss me, Ilya wanted to say. Kiss me and hold me in front of all these people. Pull me onstage and do it. I don’t care anymore. Please. I’m dying. “Nothing,” Ilya said, and stepped away. “Nothing.”
“I would never stop showing you off,” Ilya said. “If I could.”
“My beloved,” Ilya murmured, in Russian. “So beautiful.” Shane let his eyes close for a moment, letting Ilya know he understood.
“I think,” he said, in Russian, “you need to be fucked properly.”
“You were smoking,” he complained sleepily. “No.” “I can smell it.” Ilya kissed his shoulder. “Maybe your house is on fire.”
Maybe he was weak, but he needed whatever he could get from Shane right now. A sleepy selfie. A good-night text. A heart emoji. Anything.
“What is the point of life if you are not eating chicken parmesan and ice cream?”
“Touch yourself.” Ilya poked his own nose. “Like this?” Shane looked skyward in frustration. “Why are you like this?” “Because it is fun.”
“I always miss you.” Shane’s throat felt tight, which was a ridiculous sensation to experience when watching your boyfriend jerk off.
“Like you need it,” Shane mimicked with his best attempt at a Russian accent. “That is what I sound like? No wonder you are so hot for me. Sexy.”
They said goodbye, ended the call, and then Shane was alone again, and wishing like hell that there could be a solution to their problem.
Brother there is! Just come out, it’s not that big of a deal for real!
He reached a hand out toward Shane’s side of the bed, but of course it was empty. He hadn’t shared a bed with Shane for two weeks.
Stop trying to make me cry
“My impatient slut,” Ilya growled as he fucked him. “Could not even wait for me.” “Just,” Shane gasped, “being efficient.” “So good,” Ilya said, punctuating his words with thrusts. “At time. Management.” “Wanted your dick.” “You have it. Is it good?” “Fuck yes. Love it. Harder.”
“You are so beautiful,” Ilya said. “Not bad yourself.”
“When you watch it, this is what you will see. Me saying nothing. I wanted to say you are fucking everything to me. Everything. Okay?”
When they broke the kiss, Ilya said, “You will be a good dad.”
“I think you care too fucking much.” “About what? Us?” “No. About everyone else. Opinions.”
The point was that Shane had a perfectly good secret boyfriend, so obviously it was rude of J.J. to try to set Shane up with other men.
Again he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the large mirror that stood in the corner, but he didn’t still think he looked stunning. He thought he looked ridiculous. And sad.
He’d already met the love of his life, and he was head over heels, and he couldn’t tell anyone and it fucking sucked.
“Is it safe even,” Ilya asked, “to wear a plug for so long?” “Yeah,” Shane said breathlessly. “I Googled it.”
Shane didn’t need any costume pieces to look like a fantasy. He was absolutely beautiful, on his knees for Ilya. He was always so beautiful.
He wanted to stay buried in Shane forever, making him come again and again and again.
The next morning, when the sun had just begun to rise, Ilya watched Shane drive away. He stood on his front step for several minutes after, staring in the direction the car had gone, and shivering in his gym shorts and T-shirt. Then, he went inside, closed the door, and burst into tears. When he’d finished crying, some uncertain amount of time later, he felt more exhausted than he had after any hockey game. He was crumpled on the floor, slumped against his front door, and standing up seemed like an insurmountable feat. He decided that, yes. He should probably get some professional help.
That some days he missed Shane so much it felt like claws were digging into his heart.
He’d been an idiot then. He still was, really, when it came to Shane Hollander.
“I am so glad I met you,” Ilya said quietly.
I love hockey, and I deserve to have the career I want for as long as I want it. I’ve earned that. But if I had to choose...I’d choose him.” Galina made another quick note. “But,” Ilya said quietly, “I shouldn’t have to choose.”
Shane couldn’t imagine anyone in the world being a better kisser than Ilya. Commanding and tender at the same time, just on the edge of filthy, but still managing to make Shane feel adored and precious. Shane was always just trying to keep up.
“Do you see,” Ilya asked, “how you look when you are gone like this? Stunning, Hollander.”
“Yes. So fucking good.” Shane tilted his head back slightly, still watching himself in the mirror. “Want to make you feel good too.” “You are. I love this.” Ilya brought his lips to Shane’s ear. “I love when you let go like this.”
“I don’t think I like Troy.” “Why? You have a lot in common. You both are short, gay, and both think I am hot.” “Your favorite qualities in a man.”
A tiny voice in his head, that maybe sounded a bit like Shane, told him that bad captains don’t make new teammates feel comfortable coming out to them. Or feel comfortable knocking on their captain’s hotel room door in the middle of the night just to hang out.
Quietly, in a voice that couldn’t disguise his pain, he said, “I already chose you, Hollander.”
