Chapter Text
It was a cold January night in Montreal and Shane Hollander was alone.
He hadn’t quite grown used to it. While he had always been a private, introvert sort of creature, preferring to stay home rather than party with his friends and coworkers, there had always been someone by his side, at least in the past few years. He and Rose had clicked so easily, so quickly, that whoever saw them said they had just been meant to be.
Maybe this insistence was what kept Shane blind for so long, on top of his own resistance to admit what he really felt. Loving Rose was easy, after all – as everything with her had been.
Well, not everything.
He hailed a cab and gave the hotel address to the driver. He could have taken his own car, but he felt like it wouldn’t be a good idea. Not that the form of transportation would stop people from recognizing him: he was, after all, the captain of the Montreal Metros.
He guessed he was just nervous. It didn’t seem like a good idea to get behind the wheel at the moment, not when he was so distracted, when his head seemed to be a million miles away from where the rest of him was.
Earlier today, a paparazzo had caught a picture of Rose moving into a place of her own. The headline above it said: Canada’s favorite couple is no more – Rose Landry seen moving into a penthouse in central Montreal, following rumors of break-up from Hockey star Shane Hollander. His phone had pinged with notifications all day long, from friends asking if he was alright and wanted to go out and get a drink, to news outlets reaching out for a statement. He had ignored them all. No one had known the break-up had occurred a couple of months ago. He and Rose hadn’t lived together in weeks. Sure, they were still very good friends, because Rose was an angel and Shane didn’t deserve her, but it almost felt like the break-up had happened to someone else entirely. Ever since their honest conversation (probably the most honest conversation they’d had ever since they first met), Shane wasn’t the same man he had been before. He had thought he knew himself. It turned out he didn’t – or, at least, he had tried very, very hard to ignore what he already knew deep down inside.
God, he was a mess. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he wasn’t ready. Maybe he needed more time…
You’re thirty, a little voice in the back of his head said. How much more time are you going to waste?
It was this thought that scared him the most. He didn’t feel like he had wasted time with Rose: he loved her. She was special and a wonderful friend, but…
He had wasted time, hadn’t he? Thirty years passed him by while he pretended he could be happy living a lie. Had he ever been truly happy? Holding the Stanley Cup, sure, winning accolades, going to the Olympics, representing his country… but that was all in the professional realm. Shane Hollander, Hockey star, had plenty of reasons to be happy, he guessed.
Shane Hollander, the man, was a different story.
The driver swerved through traffic. He tried to make small talk with Shane, who replied only in grunts, hums or monosyllables. He didn’t want to be recognized, tonight of all nights, and aside from that, he was too nervous to have an actual conversation. He couldn’t discuss the weather or the latest sport news or whatever politics the driver wanted to complain about. In fact, Shane was pretty sure that, if he tried, he would throw up.
There were probably other ways to go through this. Shane could have chosen a different path. But a part of him, so tired of pretending and holding himself back for so long, had needed the shortcut. Who knew how much longer it would take if he did things the traditional way? It wasn’t like he could just go to a bar and meet someone and… well, he could, but it would probably be photographed and posted to every sports site and gossip site in the country and Shane needed some privacy, some time, to navigate this…
Stupidly, he felt like he needed to act on it in order to get a proper confirmation. It was that logical, structured, tidy part of him that always needed to follow the proper steps in order to get to the results he needed.
Rose had seemed worried when they broke up. Her green eyes were filled both with the sadness of knowing everything was over and the concern of leaving Shane on his own to figure things out.
“Are you going to be okay?” She had asked him. His hand had been trapped between hers. Shane hadn’t pictured their break-up before, it hadn’t seemed necessary, but if he had, he was sure this would have never even crossed his mind. He would have pictured tears and anger and some sort of grief.
He had been numb. And, deep down inside, relieved.
When Shane hadn’t answered, she leaned a bit closer, trying to catch his eyes. “Shane. It’s okay. It’s okay to feel whatever you’re feeling right now. I think… it may have been a long time coming. I should have talked to you about this years ago. I guess I just… part of me was hoping I was wrong.”
That could have been the perfect time for Shane to deny everything. To tell her she had gotten it all wrong. That she had seen something in him that simply wasn’t there. That he loved her. That he was in love with her.
But he couldn’t. Because this secret had been weighing on his shoulders for so long, and he was so tired.
As much as he had tried to stop it, to ignore it, to change it, Shane Hollander was gay. And he couldn’t keep pretending to be someone he wasn’t. He couldn’t keep hiding like this. He couldn’t keep denying himself what he wanted, what he needed, who he was. If he did… oh, it was going to kill him eventually, wasn’t it? Maybe not literally, but it would chip away at him little by little until he was nothing but a husk of a man who had never known happiness or freedom, not a single day in his life.
He was scared shitless. But he was even more scared of living the rest of his life like this.
It was complicated. Shane couldn’t risk his career, couldn’t come out publicly, couldn’t parade a boyfriend around or get married. Maybe those things would never be possible for him, and considering he was just coming to terms with everything, he really wasn’t thinking so much about the future. He knew he would, eventually, freak out thinking about it, but right now he didn’t allow himself to. He was taking this step by step.
The first step, then, the only logical thing that Shane felt he could do, was to meet up with a man.
The taxi came to a stop in front of a hotel downtown. Shane hurried to pay the driver and exit the car, and then walked as quickly but as inconspicuously as he could inside. He had made a reservation before hand, for one night only, so he stopped briefly at the desk to check in. He did his best not to make eye contact with anyone, to not stretch any unnecessary conversations. He didn’t want to bring attention to himself. No one would know what he was about to do, but still, he didn’t want any Montreal fans asking for a selfie or anything that might make others notice here was here.
He made his way up to room 1410. He still had a few minutes to spare. He sat on the edge of the bed and looked around. It was a nice room – not too expensive, not too cheap. It was spacious enough not to feel claustrophobic as he sat there and waited.
This truly was a terrible idea.
Shane wasn’t sure how the thought had popped into his head. He had known that, now that he had come to terms with where his desires lay, he needed to act on them. That was the only thing that had been clear to him. But as he began to rule out options (no bars, no strangers, no public meetings with men, no apps where anyone could find him), he realized his actual options were… well, nearly non-existent.
The search online was quick. The website promised discretion. There hadn’t been need for him to leave any of his personal information in order to book the appointment. It was anonymous and as safe as these things could be, he guessed, although he was no expert. He had felt a little weird going through the catalog like he was selecting new patio furniture instead of a man to have sex with.
All his reservations had flown out the window when he saw him though.
The pictures were very tasteful. There were only hints of his body here and there – a perfect torso with just the right amount of hair sprinkled on his chest and down his belly and hip bones that made Shane’s mouth dry – and his face had been shadowed. The photograph was black and white, but it wasn’t difficult to guess the man had blonde hair, gentle curls framing his face. There was a cute mole in one of his cheeks that Shane found himself inexplicably drawn to, and the slight curvature of his lips, not quite a smile but the hint of one, was simply mesmerizing.
He booked the appointment at once.
There wasn’t a name attached to the picture, just the letter I. There was a brief description of his services, too, saying he catered to both women and men, but that he didn’t bottom. He was exclusively a top.
Shane’s mouth had gone even dryer, if that was possible. He realized he had no interest in topping – he had fucked Rose enough times over the years they had been together, and had rarely gotten any pleasure out of it. Instead, he had fantasized about what it would be like to be on the receiving end more times than he cared to admit…
It was their mediocre sex life that had made Rose realize they weren’t… compatible. At first she had thought Shane was simply inexperienced, that he had focused so much on his career that he hadn’t perfected his skills in bed. But their sexual encounters had always been initiated by her, and Shane could easily go without it for months and months.
He jerked off plenty in the shower, or when he was alone in a hotel room. He just never pictured her.
He hadn’t allowed himself to admit what he pictured as he got himself off, though.
Not until now.
Shane checked the time. Nine o’clock.
There was a sharp knock on the door.
There was still time to back out. Shane could sit there and not open the door, and surely the man on the other side would eventually think the room was empty, and he would leave…
Shane stood up and walked to the door. He pulled it open before he could change his mind.
Leaning against the door frame was the most stunning man Shane had ever seen. The black and white pictures on the website hadn’t even come close to show what he truly looked like. His golden locks were styled around his lovely face, his eyes a mixture of green and blue, his jaw covered in stubble. He looked like he had just walked down of a runway, like he could be a model, and he took Shane’s breath away as he stood there, silently watching him like he was waiting for Shane to be the one to speak first.
When it was clear that Shane wasn’t going to say a word, the man finally spoke.
“Are you Shane?” He asked in a heavily accented voice. Shane hadn’t expected that, but it certainly added to the appeal. When Shane only nodded, he said: “Hi Shane. I’m Ilya.”
Ilya. The name somehow fit the man in front of him. Shane suddenly couldn’t imagine him being called any other way.
Ilya arched an eyebrow at him. He didn’t smile, but his lips curved slightly in something close to a smirk. “Could I come in?”
Shane felt a little idiotic when he found himself once more unable to utter a word. He just nodded once more and took a step back to open the door a little wider. Ilya strolled into the room like he owned it. Shane’s eyes roamed over him as he did: he was wearing a brown leather jacket on top of a black tank top that seemed glued to his body, and his jeans were perfectly molded to the shape of his ass…
He must have made a sound, because Ilya turned to look at him, and that smirk that had begun to take shape over his lips intensified.
“So, Shane,” he said. “Where do you want me?”
Everywhere, a little voice in the back of Shane’s head said. He was glad that his filter was working and that words didn’t come easily to his mouth at the moment, because that would have been an embarrassing thing to blurt out.
He cleared his throat. He couldn’t be mute through this whole thing, if he really wanted this to happen.
And seeing Ilya now? Oh, Shane wanted it to happen.
“Ah,” he started. Oh, what a great start, Shane, he chastised himself, a little embarrassed. He couldn’t believe the effect this man had on him already. Well, at least this seemed confirmation enough that he was gay, right? That just the sight of this gorgeous man in front of him rendered him speechless? “Do you think we could… talk a bit first?”
If Ilya was surprised by the request, he didn’t show it. Maybe he was used to keeping a straight expression on his face no matter what his clients asked him to do. That thought derailed immediately: what kind of crazy things did people ask this man to do? Shane was a little scared to find out and bowed not to ask him about it.
“Of course. Whatever you want,” Ilya replied. He moved further into the room.
Shane sat on the edge of the bed, mostly because he wasn’t sure he could trust his legs to support him at the moment. Was he supposed to start some sort of conversation? Or should he just tell Ilya why he was here and what he was expecting to get out of this encounter? It seemed awkward to tell him he wanted to have sex with him as a way to confirm something he probably should have known since he was a teenager…
Ilya leaned against the dresser, all casual and sexy in a way Shane couldn’t even dream of being. He was wound too tight.
“I assume this is your first time doing something like this, yes?” Ilya commented. It wasn’t unkind, the way he said it, although there was something about his accent that made his words sound almost blunt.
Shane found himself simply nodding again, and then cursed under his breath and forced himself to actually speak. “Yes. I…” Be honest, he told himself. What do you have to lose? “I’ve recently broken up with my girlfriend. Things were… difficult between us, even though we love each other. It took a long time before we could… before I could admit that the problem was me.”
“Problem?” Ilya repeated. Shane wasn’t sure if he didn’t understand or if he was inviting him to share more, if he wanted.
“I don’t… I don’t like girls. Women,” Shane said. He closed his eyes. He had to say it. He had only said it out loud to Rose, and that was only because she had prompted it, almost fished the words out of him, needing him to say them. “I’m gay.”
God, he was telling his deepest secret to a complete stranger. Shane knew this could backfire spectacularly.
But everything about this night could backfire spectacularly. If he wasn’t willing to risk it, then he shouldn’t have come here at all.
It was Ilya who nodded now. “Good. So you have never been with a man?”
Oh, Shane’s mouth was dry again. Why was it this hot when he asked him this? He shook his head. “No, I… no. Never.”
Ilya pulled away from the dresser. He made his way to Shane very, very slowly, each step feeling like it took whole minutes. Shane’s throat bobbed as he tried to swallow, as he glanced up at him. There was something so naturally mesmerizing about Ilya. It was obvious he knew how to get his attention, how to make it impossible to look away from him.
Shane thought he was going to sit on the bed beside him, but Ilya stopped right in front of him instead. Shane was forced to look up unless he wanted his eyes to be fixed straight on Ilya’s crotch – it wasn’t like it was an unpleasant view, but he thought it might be rude to stare.
“I promise I will be gentle,” Ilya said, and oh, his voice got so deep and so low, it sent a spark of arousal all over Shane. His eyes, which looked green now in the dim light, were on him, and Shane had never felt so much in display before, not even when he was playing in front of an audience of passionate hockey fans. “If that’s what you want. Is okay if you want it rough, too.”
Shane’s cock betrayed him by twitching in his pants. He hoped Ilya wouldn’t notice, although he guessed he knew exactly what he was doing to him by saying stuff like that. “I… I would like to start slow,” Shane said. As much as he felt like he would want to try anything with Ilya right now, he didn’t feel like he was ready to simply throw himself into it. He needed time. He needed to figure out what he wanted and what he liked and…
Ilya’s fingers settled on his chin, keeping their eyes locked. “Tell me.”
The touch, as subtle and innocent as it could be, was electric. Shane’s body seemed to react to it at once. He licked his lips as he looked at him, as he allowed himself to picture all the things they could do together.
Slow, he had said. He had meant it.
“Kiss me?” Shane said. When Ilya blinked at him, clearly taken aback, he hurried to add: “I mean… I don’t know if that’s allowed. It’s okay if it isn’t. We can just…”
Ilya leaned in, giving him enough time to pull away but still coming at him fast enough to surprise him, effectively silencing him by pressing their mouths together.
It was like everything in Shane’s life suddenly realigned itself. Everything made sense in a way it never had before. Just one brush of Ilya’s lips and he understood why everyone else actually enjoyed kissing.
It wasn’t just a brush of lips, though. It didn’t take long before Ilya’s mouth opened and his tongue caressed Shane’s bottom lip. There was a small sound, and it took a few seconds for Shane to realize it had come from him, just a tiny little whimper that he would have been ashamed of had he cared at the moment. It was difficult to care, though, when Ilya’s hands were now framing his face and tilting it just so he could deepen the kiss even more.
Shane told himself to be bold. His hands shook where they were pressed against his thighs, begging him to let them touch. So he lifted them and settled them on Ilya’s waist, keeping him in place as if he was worried he would break the kiss and move away, taking with him all the wonderful sensations coursing through him.
But Ilya didn’t seem like he was interested in ending the kiss any time soon. Instead, he spoke right into Shane’s mouth: “Is this all you want? Is enough?”
Shane’s body was screaming no. It wanted more. It wanted everything Ilya was willing to offer him.
But a part of him was still logical enough to know he couldn’t push himself through this. He needed more time. He needed baby steps. It was this little part of him that was on brink of freaking out because he was making out with a guy. He was enjoying it – he just never thought he would get to have this.
It still felt like he shouldn’t be having this.
Ilya stopped the kiss, frowning, and Shane realized he had hesitated for so long he had stopped kissing him back. “Okay?”
“Yes,” Shane hurried to reassure him. “I’m okay, sorry. I’m just… I’m thinking.”
“Okay,” Ilya said, but he was no longer touching Shane and somehow that hurt. “Take your time.”
“I want more,” Shane blurted out, before he could chicken out. He blinked up at Ilya. “I mean… I’m not ready for… for everything yet. To go all the way. But… I’d like more.”
“I can give you more,” Ilya replied, and there it was again, that smirk that sent shivers all over Shane. “You just need to ask for it.”
Oh, shit. Shane wasn’t good at this. Rose had once wanted to try dirty talk in bed – she had probably thought it would help with their issues, and it had only made things more awkward, really – but Shane didn’t think he had it in him to explicitly say what he wanted to do and what he wanted done to him…
Ilya leaned in again. The tip of his tongue flicked teasingly over the pulse point in Shane’s throat, and then up to his ear, where he sucked the lobe into his mouth.
“Can I suck you off?” Shane blurted out.
Well. Maybe the problem hadn’t been with saying exactly what he wanted, but with having to pretend he wanted it with Rose.
Ilya pulled away. His eyes had darkened slightly, lips slightly parted. He once again looked like that hadn’t been what he had thought Shane would say, and Shane wondered if he would stop showing just how out of his depth he was.
When Ilya didn’t reply, Shane worried he had crossed a line he didn’t know was there. He had never done this before, had never hired someone to have sex with, and while he thought he knew the basics of how this worked, maybe there were unspoken rules he wasn’t aware of…
As Shane tried to figure out a way to backpedal and stop ruining this (and hopefully getting Ilya’s mouth back on his), Ilya straightened up and removed his leather jacket, dropping it on the floor.
Once more, Shane’s mouth went dry at the sight. He was so stunning, his thick arms so strong, his chest…
“Should I get on the bed?” Ilya asked. “Or do you prefer to be on your knees on the floor?”
Those words ignited a flame in Shane’s belly and spread all over him. He dropped to his knees before he could even process what he was doing, the need to do so overpowering every thought and every doubt he’d had until this very moment.
“Well, fuck,” Ilya whispered, like the words escaped him out of their own volition, as he looked down at Shane. Was that arousal in his eyes? It certainly looked like it. “So eager.”
Shane glanced up at him through his eyelashes. He could have sworn he heard Ilya’s breath stuttering, and he was about to ask him if he was alright, when Ilya sneaked his hand in his pocket and fished out a small foil packet. He passed the condom to Shane before he did quick work of his zipper and pushed his jeans down to his ankles. There was a prominent bulge covered by tight black briefs, and Shane’s mouth watered.
This felt like another little confirmation that he was gay. He gave himself a mental high five before he realized there was something else he was supposed to be focusing on.
Namely, how close Ilya’s hard cock was to his face.
Before he knew what he was doing, he was nuzzling against his crotch, and god, how embarrassing was that? He felt needy and desperate and more aroused than he had ever felt in his life, and he couldn’t stop. He wanted this man, this stranger, and everything in him felt like he was on fire at his nearness.
One of Ilya’s hands settled on the back of his head, his fingers softly threading through Shane’s dark hair. The gesture was almost tender, but Shane didn’t read too much into it – he couldn’t, not really. Not with how hungry he felt. He wanted Ilya in his mouth right now.
He mouthed at the skin right above the elastic of Ilya’s underwear. Everything was taut and muscular and impossibly delicious. Shane knew he was in good shape – he was a professional athlete, after all – but the sight of Ilya in just his little boxer briefs made him feel like he should spend a few more hours at the gym every day.
Still, it was odd, but the comparison didn’t make him feel unattractive. Not with the way Ilya was stroking his hair, and the heavy breaths escaping him as Shane nuzzled him. If Shane allowed himself to forget that this was basically a business transaction, he could almost believe Ilya wanted him as badly as Shane wanted him right now.
His fingers curled in the elastic and he tugged the only piece of fabric between them down. He thought he let out a little noise, something he would have been mortified about in any other moment, but not now. Now, desire filled him leaving room for nothing else. He would surely replay this in his head later and would find the time to be mortified – for now, he enjoyed it.
Oh, there it was. Ilya’s long, thick cock sprung free, the tip hitting his chiseled abs. He was big and beautiful, and the fact that he was thinking about another man’s dick as beautiful should be the final nail on the coffin of his pretended heterosexuality. How much more confirmation could he need?
He wanted this. He wanted him in his mouth. He wanted to know what it felt like to feel his mouth full of him, to choke on him…
His eagerness clouded his judgment. He parted his lips to swallow him down, but Ilya pressed a hand against his cheek to stop him.
“Ah, ah, hold on,” he said. He almost sounded as affected as Shane felt. It had to be an act though, right? This man got laid on a regular basis. He probably had people doing more exciting things to him all the time. Well, he was a good actor. Shane wondered how he got his eyes to go all dark like that. “The condom. Is important. Safety first.”
“Oh,” Shane said dumbly. “Right, yes.”
His hands were shaking too much to actually put the condom on him, so Ilya took over, biting the envelope open and then rolling the condom on his own cock in a swift, expert sort of way. Shane followed the entire proceedings with his eyes, like this was something else he needed to memorize. He didn’t want to miss a single thing.
“Now,” Ilya said in a low voice that was sure to haunt every single one of Shane’s fantasies for the rest of his life, “you can suck my cock.”
Shane didn’t make him wait. Or perhaps he was not making himself wait, not like he had for so many unsatisfying, torturous years. He parted his lips and sucked the head in.
Beneath the rubbery taste of the condom, was everything Shane hadn’t allowed himself to have. And it was wonderful.
He slowly took more of Ilya in his mouth. He didn’t rush himself, even if he was desperate to swallow down all of him. He took him inch by inch, reminding himself to be mindful of his teeth. He pressed his tongue against the underside, lapping at him, and sucking slightly.
“Ah, yes,” Ilya muttered above him. He cupped Shane’s cheek, whether to guide him or simply hold him, it was unclear. “Very good.”
The praise felt like a caress going down his spine. His head was suddenly emptied out of any negative thoughts or unnecessary doubts. Shane was now completely present in the moment, aware of the weight of Ilya’s cock on his tongue and the scent of his skin, and the little sounds he was making. The world disappeared – this was the only thing that existed and it was okay.
It was more than safe to say he had a confirmation: Shane Hollander was definitely and absolutely gay.
He would have thought this moment of final realization would have been more emotional, but the truth was that he was so focused on the cock in his mouth and the gorgeous man it belonged to, that there was no room for it.
He renewed his efforts. He gagged slightly when Ilya hit the back of his throat, but he managed to recover quickly enough that he didn’t need to pull off all the way. He suckled slightly on the head as he gave himself a little time to readjust, and then began to bob up and down, trying to find the right rhythm.
Shane must have found it, because Ilya’s breathing got more irregular, and his fingers tightened in his hair. It made Shane feel oddly pleased with himself.
Minutes were punctuated by the wet sounds of Shane’s mouth on Ilya’s cock, and Ilya’s quiet little gasps. He became aware that he was hard – harder than he had ever been in his life, probably – but he was too interested in getting Ilya to come to do something about his own arousal.
A shudder went through Ilya’s body. Shane felt it against his fingertips, which he hadn’t realized were pressed to Ilya’s skin (his right hand on his taut stomach, his left hand holding onto his strong thigh), and Ilya’s grip on Shane’s hair tightened.
“Stop, please,” Ilya said.
Shane pulled away at once, hands dropping to his own lap. His mind raced with questions – was I doing this wrong? Is he going to tell me to never touch him again? What if he thinks I can never learn to get it right? – and he looked up at Ilya, eyebrows drawn together in concern, mouth glistening with the remnants of his spit.
Ilya smiled down at him. It was a dark, lustful, hungry thing and it made Shane’s cock twitch inside his pants. “You are fast learner,” he said. “That was very good.”
“Okay…” Shane said. He was unsure whether this was true – Ilya wouldn’t have stopped him if he truly liked what Shane was doing to him, right?
“I think is best we get on the bed now,” Ilya said. He didn’t stop touching Shane. The hand that had been buried in his hair shifted to cup his cheek. His thumb brushed briefly over his cheekbone. “You made my legs weak.”
It was impossible to believe, looking at Ilya’s stunning body, that there could be anything weak about him. But it was true that he looked a little wrecked, and Shane felt a rush of pride rushing through him at the sight: he could do this. He could made a man like Ilya a little weak in the knees.
Shane felt powerful. He only ever felt powerful on the ice.
It was nice to feel powerful in the bedroom, at least once.
Ilya offered him his hand and pulled him up when Shane accepted it. He nearly collapsed against the other man’s chest, who didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around him, pressing his naked body to Shane’s still clothed one, and kissed him, open-mouthed and a little greedily.
Reluctantly, the kiss ended too soon. Ilya got on the bed and shifted until he was leaning against the pillows. He was such a sight, all sprawled there, shamelessly, watching Shane, erection resting against his stomach.
“Want to finish what you started?” Ilya asked. He wrapped his fingers around his cock and gave it a quick stroke, like he needed to take the edge of. “Or should we try something different?”
Shane toed his shoes off – that was all the time he was willing to waste undressing himself, though. Instead of giving Ilya a straight response, he crawled on the bed towards him, stopping between his legs. He grabbed his hips, nuzzled his thigh, and then opened his mouth and swallowed him down once more.
“Oh, fuck, Shane,” Ilya said, letting his head fall back against the headboard.
After that, there was a lot of incoherent babbling, some of it even in a language Shane didn’t speak (was it Russian? It felt like it could be Russian), and Ilya’s fingers returned to his hair, clinging to his head and making him go faster or deeper or slower, showing Shane what he liked and letting Shane discover what he liked to do in return. It was perfect.
God, he should have been doing this all along. Why had he wasted so much time?
Soon, the babbling turned into loud moans. It was obvious Ilya was close. Shane debated pulling off and finishing him off with his hand so he could watch him, but he didn’t. He wanted to know what it felt like to feel a man – this man – coming in his mouth.
He got what he wanted only a couple of minutes later. Ilya arched off the bed, his whole body tensing, his cock jerking in Shane’s mouth, and made the most exquisite sounds he had ever heard.
A part of Shane wished they could have done this without the condom. He wished he had tasted it.
It was still the most mind-blowing thing he had ever experienced. And he hadn’t even undressed yet.
Ilya’s chest was heaving, his skin glistening with sweat, his lower lip pinker than it had been before, which meant he had clearly been biting on it. Shane almost wished he could take a picture, to remember what this man looked like in the aftermath of an orgasm. He was a masterpiece.
Ilya reached down and rolled the condom off. Shane got distracted kissing his thigh and didn’t see how he disposed of it. He didn’t care, not right now.
“Well,” Ilya said. His eyes were bright, probably from lingering arousal. “I think it’s your turn now.”
The nerves returned to Shane. It was one thing to get this man naked, to get his cock in his mouth, and another one entirely to allow him to see him naked, to let him touch him…
But he wanted this. Oh, how he wanted it.
Ilya crawled across the bed until he was kneeling right in front of him. He brought Shane up to his knees, too, cupped his face, kissed him deeply.
Then he whispered against his lips: “Let me make you feel as good as you have made me feel.”
There was no denying him, Shane knew. He would do whatever this man asked of him.
The kiss disarmed him. Shane became putty in Ilya’s hands. “Okay,” he whispered back. “What should I… what should I do?”
“Get undressed,” Ilya said. “Let me see you.”
The words made him shiver, even if it felt like a contrast with how hot he felt right now. He scrambled off the bed, eager to do what Ilya said. His eyes were fixed on Ilya’s now soft cock, resting on his thigh as he sat there watching him. Shane’s mouth watered again, and he wished he could suck him back in, taste him properly this time…
He focused on taking his clothes off. Not because he was putting on a show, but because even the simplest button felt like a challenge right now. He carefully folded his pants and his shirt. In the end, he left his underwear and socks on – he stood there unsure, not knowing whether he should just take everything off and get back into bed so Ilya could… could…
So Ilya could what? What was Ilya going to do to him?
Shane knew he would do anything he asked. He was paying for it, after all.
What a depressing thought. He vanished it away at once.
Ilya licked his lips and patted the bed. “Come here.”
Shane went to him. It was so easy to go to him…
Ilya laid him down, slowly, carefully. He hovered over him, their bodies not quite touching, and his blonde hair fell on his face as he looked into Shane’s eyes. There was something incredibly intimate about that gaze, even more so than what Shane had done to him so far. He found himself lifting his hand and cupping his cheek, thumb grazing that attractive mole there. He wanted to kiss it. He didn’t know why he didn’t dare.
“You still don’t want to go all the way?” Ilya asked in a low, sultry voice that almost made Shane question his decision.
But no, he had to listen to his body. He wanted to be ready. He didn’t want any regrets tonight.
So Shane shook his head.
“Tell me what you want,” Ilya prompted.
It wasn’t easy to find his words. Maybe Shane didn’t really now what he wanted, not specifically. Maybe he just wanted Ilya to touch him.
Ilya seemed to notice the answer was jumbled somewhere inside of him, lost. His thumb lined his bottom lip, and such a simple gesture should not have disarmed Shane as much as it did.
“Want me to blow you?” Ilya said, and god, his voice. His voice was so deep and sexy and that accent was going to drive Shane mad. “I would love to have your cock in my mouth, Shane. Please let me do it.”
Well. Shane’s entire body seized at that, as if he was about to come just from hearing those words come out of Ilya’s mouth. Nothing had ever turned him on like this. It felt like he had lived in some sort of gray area his entire life and now he had opened his eyes and there were vibrant colors everywhere.
“Yes,” he managed to say, which was a miracle, because he felt as if he had lost the power of speech.
Ilya smiled at him. It was a sensual smile and for a moment Shane found himself wondering what a genuine, happy smile would look like on his lips. Would it be different? Brighter? Wider? Would it make his eyes sparkle?
But then Ilya was shifting down his body, kissing every inch of skin he came across, and all questions and thoughts not related to how this felt flew out the window into the dark Montreal night.
Ilya’s tongue twirled around one of his nipples, something Shane hadn’t known could feel this amazing, while one of his hands trailed down to caress the insides of his thighs. He wasn’t sure what sensation to lean into – Ilya hadn’t even touched his cock and he already felt like he was short-circuiting.
“You have very beautiful body,” Ilya said as he left a wet line across his chest, moving to his other nipple. “Athletic.”
Shane wondered if Ilya knew who he was. Nearly everyone in Montreal did. Hockey was the most popular sport in Canada, after all. Should he be worried? It was impossible to be worried when the tips of Ilya’s fingers were teasing the spot between his legs were the fabric of his underwear ended.
“You also have a good mouth,” Ilya continued. He kissed down towards his stomach. “Like you were born to suck my cock.”
Shane let out a sound that was a mixture between a whimper and a groan, and completely embarrassing. He threw his head back against the pillows, one of his hands settling on Ilya’s lovely curls before he could talk himself out of it.
“I will take your boxers off now, yes?” Ilya said, surprisingly gentle, as he stopped with his mouth pressed to the patch of skin between his bellybutton and the elastic of his underwear.
“Yes, please,” Shane lifted his hips without any prompting, desperate for Ilya to finally touch him.
His underwear got dropped somewhere on the floor. Shane couldn’t bring himself to care where. Not when he was completely naked and he could feel the ghost of Ilya’s hot breath on his erection.
Ilya fished another condom from somewhere. Shane was too far gone to notice where or if he had left the bed briefly to do so. He rolled it gently on Shane’s cock and gave it a couple of strokes. Just that brief attention was enough to have Shane keening against the pillows, and arching towards Ilya’s wonderful hand.
He forced himself to lift his head and look down. The way Ilya was sprawled between his legs was a work of art in itself, something he knew he wouldn’t want to miss. He could see the tantalizing curve of Ilya’s perfect eyes, and his legs hanging off the edge of the bed. His lips were now pressed to the insides of Shane’s thighs, close to where he wanted him, but not enough.
Every sensation lit a fire within him, one he didn’t think he would be able to ever put out.
And then Ilya opened his mouth and swallowed him down, all of him, in one smooth swoop.
Oh, the warmth of him. It threatened to make him come in record time. This wasn’t the first time someone sucked Shane’s cock, but it certainly felt like it was. It was the first time he truly wanted it, the first time he felt like it was right.
Ilya made a nearly pornographic sound that had Shane twitching against the back of his throat, like he was enjoying this as much as Shane was. Yes, he was a fantastic actor. Shane would give him a standing ovation if he hadn’t lost control of his limbs.
The way Ilya moved, the pressure of his mouth, the way his hands never stood still, his fingers always pressing and caressing another part of him as if to keep him guessing where he was going to touch him next. It was all too much, such a rich experience that Shane found himself adrift in it, so lost in his pleasure he couldn’t do more than that, more than simply enjoy it and pray it could last a little longer.
But then Ilya sneaked his hands down and grabbed fistfuls of his ass and urged him even deeper in his mouth and Shane lost it completely.
He came with a choked sound, one of his hands pressed to the back of Ilya’s shoulders, the other tangled in his golden curls. He was pretty sure he screamed the other man’s name at the ceiling, too, but he blacked out for a second, so he could have just imagined that.
It was over before he wished it to, but it had been incredible nonetheless.
By the time he regained enough of his senses, Ilya had slid up in bed to lay beside him and was watching him, his beautiful eyes fixed on him, the shape of his smirk curving his lovely lips. Without thinking, Shane reached to cup of his face and bring him down into a kiss. Their tongues brushed together and the lips slid over each other like it was a choreographed dance they had practiced a million times before.
He hadn’t expected everything to feel so perfect with someone who was a total stranger.
“That was…” Shane struggled to find the right word. Mind-blowing? Amazing? Exactly what he needed? More than he had expected.
Ilya didn’t seem to need him to finish the phrase, though. He nodded slowly and leaned in for another kiss. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“Oh, yeah, I did,” Shane said, and couldn’t help the goofy smile that appeared on his face. “I really did.”
“I could tell. You’re a screamer,” Ilya teased.
Shane would have blushed and been mortified any other time. Right now, he just laughed. He was too relaxed and blissed out to give a fuck. “Looks like it, yeah.”
Silence settled between them. Shane wondered what was supposed to happen next. They couldn’t just cuddle and go to sleep. It wasn’t like that. Ilya had come here to get his job done, and he had.
“Well, I…” Shane started, and cleared his throat. “I would… like to book another night with you. At some point. When I’m… when I’m ready for more.”
He could have sworn Ilya’s blue eyes got a little brighter. “Whenever you want.”
Shane smiled at him. Ilya kissed him once more. Shane closed his eyes and tried to soak it all in. but the kiss was brief and, when it was over, Ilya stood up and began to pick up his clothes. He disappeared with them into the bathroom. Shane reached for the blankets to cover himself. He couldn’t trust his legs yet, so getting out of bed to get his clothes wasn’t an option at the moment. He waited there, sitting against the headboard, until Ilya disappeared.
It was unfair that he looked as good clothed as he did naked.
“See you next time, then,” Ilya said with a little wink.
Shane wished he could come closer and give him one last kiss. “See you next time,” he echoed.
Ilya turned on his heels and left the room, without looking back once.
Shane fell against the pillow and let out a big, heavy sigh.
He felt better than he had ever felt before, more satisfied, right.
But, at the same time, he wished the space next to him on the bed wasn’t empty.