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Rozanov stopped talking, but he managed to find an even more effective way of getting under Hollander’s skin: he winked.
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“I have ruined you,” Rozanov said when they broke apart. “No one else will do.” “Fuck off.” “Such a mouth on you.” “Don’t say it.” “I preferred it when it was on me.” “Dammit, Rozanov.”
For the rest of his life, Shane Hollander would have to live with the fact that he had ended his NHL draft day by getting himself off to thoughts of Ilya Rozanov.
He certainly had no reason to obsess over his fucking archrival. Or his archrival’s freckles. Or his dark eyes. Or the way his cheeks glowed red when he exerted himself.
“Did you buy a building so we would have somewhere to fuck, Hollander?”
But Ilya didn’t let Hollander finish his sentence. He gripped Hollander’s arms and pushed him back against the closest wall and kissed him. Hollander had bought them a fucking building.
“Is okay,” Ilya said soothingly. He tapped the head of his cock against Hollander’s lips. “You can. Take it.” “I hate you.” “Yes. I know. Show me.” “Fuck,” Hollander whispered, seemingly to himself. Then he parted his lips, and licked the moisture off Ilya’s slit.
Ilya felt wetness splash against his thigh. Hollander’s body jerked a couple of times, and then he buried his face in Ilya’s shoulder. “Fuck.” “Hollander?” “I’m sorry,” he groaned. “I can’t believe I just...you didn’t even touch me!” And Ilya just...laughed. Because it was fucking funny.
Ilya laughed. “Hey, remember when you shot your load for like no reason at all?” Hollander glared at him, but Ilya could tell he was trying not to laugh. “Oh my god. Go to hell.” “Amazing trick.”
He wrapped his mouth around Rozanov’s cock and moaned with relief. “So good for me. Look at you.” Shane let out another mortifying moan, hating himself for loving this so much.
Shane. He called me Shane. He pulled back so he could see Rozanov’s face, and was shocked to see him staring at him with the same wide-eyed terror that Shane felt. “Ilya,” he said, barely more than a whisper.
The truth—the truth that he tried so very hard to ignore—was that no one set him on fire like Shane Hollander. All of these women...they were gorgeous. Fun. Very sexy. But he didn’t think about them after they were gone. He didn’t long for them. With them, he could be sated.
“Are you and her not...” Shane shook his head. “We’re not. No. It was just a short thing. She’s great. We just weren’t, um...compatible.” He looked seriously at Ilya then. Ilya wanted to kiss him. “Anyway,” Shane said, gesturing toward the room with his beer bottle, “I should say hi to everyone.” He stepped away from the bar. “Right.” Ilya put his hand over his mouth to hide his ridiculous smile.
“I think I’m gay,” Shane blurted out. Ilya looked at him, startled, for a moment. Then he laughed. “Oh yeah? What gives you that idea?” Shane glared at him, which made Ilya laugh more. “The last time my dick was in your mouth, I thought you might be a little gay,” Ilya teased.
“When will I have you for as long as I want?”
“I have to go.” He brushed curls out of Ilya’s eyes and Ilya grabbed his wrist, then pulled Shane’s hand to his lips. He lightly kissed the tips of Shane’s fingers, and Shane’s breath caught. “Do you?” Ilya asked.
“Good night. Shane.” A jolt of pleasure zipped through Shane’s body every time Ilya called him by his first name. “Good night, Ilya.”
Ilya was breathing Shane’s name—his first name—like a prayer and gazing at him like he was just as close as Shane was to saying something truly embarrassing and stupid and definite.
“I am not alone,” Ilya said. “You are here now, yes?” Shane’s hand flew to his chest to make sure his heart was still beating; he could have sworn it had just melted into a gooey puddle.
“You are very beautiful,” Ilya said. Shane smiled without opening his eyes. “Come on.” “Is the truth. Your freckles.” Ilya grazed a fingertip over his own cheek. “I am nuts about them.” “I have no idea why. I hate them.” “Noooo...” Ilya moaned. “Hollander. They are stunning.” “Stunning?” “Yes. Am I not using that word right? Very beautiful. Um...take my breath?” “Wow. All right.” The skin under Shane’s freckles turned very, very pink.
“No. He just wasn’t...” Ilya needed to hear it. “Wasn’t what?” Shane clenched his eyes shut and said, “You. He wasn’t you.” Ilya damn near lost it. Shane was going to ruin him, saying things like that.
“I’m fucked,” he murmured in Russian. “I am so fucking in love and it’s horrible.”
I want to tattoo this in my ass.
Shane kissed the tips of two fingers and reached out and touched them to the screen. And Ilya’s heart fucking stopped.
Shane please
Shane was so completely in love with him. He would hit his head all over again just to be alone in that quiet hospital room with those careful fingers and those concerned eyes. He was in love with him and he could never, ever tell him that.
They hadn’t been together for months. The ridiculous thing was, Ilya hadn’t been with anyone in all that time. For the first time in his life, he hadn’t wanted to be with anyone else.
“Mine.” Ilya’s breath tickled Shane’s skin when he spoke the single word. “Yours,” Shane said dreamily. “All of this. For two weeks. Is mine.” Forever, Shane wanted to say. Forever if you ask.
His deepest, most closely guarded desire was to just have his parents make contact with the man he’d been secretly fucking for seven years. Part of him felt that, if it happened, something would become clear. Something would finally make sense.
Shane bit his lip. “Tell me about this problem.” “Is so annoying.” Ilya sighed, and Shane could see him fighting a grin. “Always I am with beautiful women. Wonderful women. Everywhere.” “Sounds rough.” “Yes. Listen. These women, they are so sexy and fun, but is no matter. I cannot stop thinking about this short fucking hockey player with these stupid freckles and a weak backhand.”
that is my problem. All of these beautiful women and I am always wishing they were him.”
“Do you want the problem to go away?” “No,” Ilya said seriously, looking Shane dead in the eye. “I do not want the problem to ever go away.” “Don’t marry Svetlana,” Shane blurted out.
Ilya looked stunned by that part. “You really think that far ahead, Hollander?” “I do about this.” “You want that? To be together?” “I do. So much it terrifies me.”
“I love you.” Shane froze. And then Ilya froze. “Holy shit,” Shane whispered. It wasn’t how he had meant to respond. “I...” Ilya’s eyes were so wide and so scared. “I love you too,” Shane said.
“Does it...does it feel like agony for you too?” Ilya started to nod, then stopped. He shook his head slowly instead. “Not anymore.”
NOT ANYMORE!!!1
Shane was beaming up at him, eyes bright and freckles crinkled, and Ilya loved him. And Shane loved him. Holy fucking shit. Shane Hollander is in love with me.
“How could we let this happen?” Ilya asked, and his voice was shakier than he would have liked. “I don’t know. We are very stupid and irresponsible.” “Very dumb, yes. Oh god, Hollander.” And then he did kiss him. How could he not?
I love these idiots so much, your honor
“I want to be as close as possible to you,” he said breathlessly. “You are.” “No. I want...” “Tell me.” “I want to be in your lap when you fuck me. Facing you. Holding you. I...ahh. Fuck, yes...” He trailed off when Ilya wrapped his hand around both of their cocks. “I want that too,” Ilya said. “I love you.”
“Do it, fuck. Give it to me, Hollander. I’m right there.” “I love you. I love you. Oh, shit. Here it comes—” They both cried out as Shane’s release splashed against Ilya’s chest. His body spasmed around Ilya’s cock and Ilya was hurled over the edge, coming hard with a garbled “I love you.” “Oh my god,” Shane wheezed. His forehead landed on Ilya’s shoulder. “That was perfect.” “Yes. Perfect.” Ilya wrapped his arms around him and held him tight. As close as possible.
“I love you.” “I love you too.” “Mm. Can you say it in Russian again?” Ilya pulled Shane’s hand to his lips and kissed his fingers. “Ya lyublyu tebya.” “Ya-loo-blue-tee-baa,” Shane murmured back. Ilya laughed, and turned off the lamp.
YA LOO BLUE TEE BAA hahahahaha fuck
“Is it okay if I tell you I love you again?” Ilya asked. His crooked smile was adorably shy. Shane smiled back. Hell, he probably beamed back. “It’s okay.” Instead of saying the words, Ilya kissed him.
He heard Ilya snort behind him. “It’s not funny!” Shane snapped at him. “A little funny.” Shane turned around, ready to glare at him, but when he saw Ilya’s face he started laughing too. “Jesus Christ,” he said. “So much for easing them into it.” Ilya laughed harder. “Maybe he did not notice?” They both cracked up.
“I have been with lots of women. That was not...fake. But...” He looked at Shane, and Shane held his breath. “I have only been in love with one person.”
“You’re bothered by his lack of loyalty to his team!” “Well!” Mom said, as if that was a perfectly reasonable way to react to the fact that Ilya was so madly in love with her son that he was willing to throw his whole life into upheaval.
“We are good here, yes?” he said. “Your family is here. And your boyfriend. And we are okay here.” Shane raised his head slightly. “Boyfriend?” Such a ridiculous word. Such a ridiculous, wonderful word. Ilya shrugged and grinned. “I think, yes?” “Yes.”
“Since their rookie season,” Shane heard his mother say. “I can’t believe it.” “Looking at them now, I kind of can,” his father said.
this gave me fucking butterflies, stop it!
“This has been the weirdest day of my life.” Ilya wanted to tell Shane that it had been one of the best days of his life. It had been awkward, sure, but Ilya felt that, if he hadn’t quite been already, he would be welcomed into Shane’s family, and that was no small thing. In fact, to Ilya, who had barely been welcome in his own family, it was huge.
He wanted to tell Shane that the closest he felt to home was when he was with him.
crying in the club
He’d left Russia, he was uneasy in America, and he’d spent his entire adult life drifting between continents and between lovers. But now he had been reeled in by this annoying Canadian, and all that he knew was that he wanted to stay. He wanted to anchor himself to Shane and just...stay.
It was exactly how Ilya had secretly always wanted to kiss Shane: a shameless display of adoration and care.
