Work Text:
Boston - November 2017
Ilya has Shane backed up against the kitchen counter, gripping the edge of it in a white knuckled grip with one hand as the other is buried in Ilya's hair.
He's only got a little over an hour left before Shane has to leave, and he's intending to spend that time wisely. Starting with trying to get Shane to lose his precious control whilst he takes him in his mouth.
The sounds coming from his boyfriend are like a drug straight to his veins, the feeling of the hand in his hair tightening every time Ilya swallows around the head, the way he can feel Shane's hips twitch under his steady grip as if he's fighting the urge to move are a heady combination.
There's nothing quite like it. Nothing that makes him feel powerful, the way making the Shane Hollander lose control makes him feel.
Ilya tugs at Shane's hips the next time he goes down, taking a deep breath through his nose before swallowing and something in Shane's control breaks; a careful half thrust brings his cock further down Ilya's throat and a rush of arousal zings through his body.
Yes. That's it.
Knowing his limits, Ilya pulls back before his gag reflex can kick in and breaths deeply through his nose. One breath in, and one out as he presses his tongue into the slit, savouring the sound of Shane's desperate groan and the taste of pre, heavy on his tongue; proof of how affected Shane is by his skill. As he breaths back in, Shane's hand tightens in his hair again, guiding Ilya's head back down as his hips push forward. He goes deeper this time, cutting off Ilya's airways completely and making his own cock throb in his sweatpants.
Shane is so close to losing control. His thrusts are still careful, but Ilya can feel it in the tremble in Shane's fingers as they clench at his curls. It's not often Ilya can make him lose himself like this with only a blow job, but Ilya is determined to do it today. First, he'll make him lose control and come down his throat, and then he'll eat him out until he's hard again and fuck him against the kitchen counter.
In just an hour Shane will be walking out his front door and their schedules won't line up again for the rest of the year. He won't be able to see Shane in person until Christmas and it's important that Shane's thoroughly ruined before he gets on his plane back to Montreal this afternoon. Ilya needs Shane's control to snap and for him to give in to his desires.
Pulling back as Shane's grip loosens, Ilya takes another deep breath and tilts his head back a little; not far enough for Shane to slip out of his mouth, but enough to open his eyes and look up at his boyfriend's face. His cheeks are flushed, mouth slightly open mid pant, bottom lip red and swollen as if he's been biting at it. He looks beautiful. Ilya breathes out, then in again through his nose as he takes Shane further into his mouth again, eyes locked on his face, the way his eyes close tightly for a second as the head of his cock pushes against the entrance to Ilya's throat, before snapping open again as he swallows. Instantly their eyes lock and Ilya sees it happening in real time. The way his eyes go from glazed over to burning, the way his slack jaw tightens at the same time his fingers do so in his hair.
Yes.
The hand that had been gripping the edge of the counter moves to the back of Ilya's head, holding him securely in place as Shane's hips snap forward, pushing his cock further down Ilya's throat, sending a wave of satisfaction crashing through him.
"Fuck" Shane bites out. "Fuck, Ilya. You're so good. Fuck!"
Ilya sucks as Shane pulls back and barely manages half a breath in before Shane pushes back into his throat, holding Ilya's head still as he stares into his eyes and pushes all the way in and stopping for a moment, Ilya's nose pressed into his pubic bone, before pulling back. The fire Ilya can see burning in those dark brown eyes has him fighting the urge to reach down and jerk off. Making Shane lose control is the goal, yes, but not the finish line. He needs to stay strong.
Another deep breath and Shane pushes back in, his thrusts shallower at first, the fire in his eyes burning hotter, before something seems to just snap. Shane's grip tightens to near painful as he pulls Ilya's head closer at the same time as he thrusts into his throat; this time Ilya can't help the slight gag, but he doesn't care. This is exactly what he wants, Shane pulls back before thrusting back in, deep three times in quick succession. Ilya gags a little on each thrust and he can feel spit and precum cover his chin as he drools, unable to swallow efficiently with a cock lodged down his throat.
Shane thrusts all the way inside again and Ilya can feel his balls pull up tight against his chin.
This is it. Let go, baby. Ilya tries to convey his thoughts with his eyes only.
"Fuck, Ilya!" Shane moans, his eyes snapping up as he cums down Ilya's throat.
Ilya closes his eyes as he swallows.
Step one complete. He thinks, and pulls back when Shane's grip loosens on his head, but not fully away. He wants to make sure he swallows everything Shane gives him. He wants to tease him to the edge of over stimulation and then he'll tell him to turn around and bend over the counter. Shane needs to know that Ilya isn't done with him yet.
But Shane seems to disagree. The hand he had at the back of Ilya's head moves to his shoulder and pushes.
"Ilya." He says, a pitch to his voice, but it's nowhere near overstimulated yet, so ilya doesn't move away, instead circling his tongue around the head of Shane's softening cock. Tightening his hand in Ilya's hair again, Shane says his name again.
"Ilya!" This time it sounds a lot more persistent and the hand in his hair tugs his head backwards.
That's not what gets him to stop though.
No.
What makes him pull away from his boyfriend and freeze, on his knees on his kitchen floor, is the sound of the front door clicking shut.
*~*~*
Cliff looks at the time on his dashboard. He's not supposed to be at Roz's until after noon, but it's ten thirty and he's already out of the house, running errands anyway. He really doesn't feel like driving all the way home through this godforsaken traffic, only to spend twenty minutes on his couch before having to go back out to drive to Roz's place through even worse traffic. He's closer to his captain's house than he is to his own right now anyway.
He knows how much the man loves to sleep in on days off, but he can deal with the fact that Cliff will be there a little early. He doesn't even have to wake up! Cliff has had the code to the front door for years now, he can let himself in and he can crash on Roz's couch until the man deems it time to get out of bed.
Pulling up infront of the house, Cliff shakes his head a little. He still doesn't understand why he'd bought it two years ago. Ilya used to have a great apparent, closer to the rink than this house, closer to the city and the nightlife that he's always loved, and more than big enough for one person. Selling that place only to move into this huge, quiet house? Cliff doesn't know if he'll ever understand it.
It sure seems to have made the avid party boy less interested in going out these past couple of years. Possibly the commute back at the end of the night making it less appealing to stay out late, or to even go out at all.
Cliff gets out of the car, grabbing his tablet as he goes. The reason he's meeting with his captain today is because Vic has been having some complaints about the way coach has been treating the rookies this season, one rookie in particular, namely the one who's boarding with him. On their way out after their game against Montreal last night, Vic had pulled Roz aside to ask if he could take it up with coach before next practice. Of course Ilya had said yes, it's part of his role as captain; but Ilya had also volunteered Cliff, as one of the team’s alternate captains, to join him for said meeting.
Not something that's unheard of, but in previous seasons Roz usually dealt with things like this on his own. Something shifted this season, and Cliff hasn't been able to identify what, but his captain has been pulling him in to share more and more of his captain duties with him.
No matter what the reason is, Cliff isn't about to let him down. He spent a good chunk of his morning collecting all of Vic's complaints into a single document so that him and Ilya could easily go through them today and decide on how to handle the situation. They really lucked out on their rookies this season, the last thing they need is for coach to make them all wanna quit or get traded as soon as their contracts are up.
Punching in the door code, Cliff opens the front door to the ridiculously large house, intending to settle in on the couch and go through his notes again before Roz wakes up, but as soon as he steps inside, he freezes in his tracks.
Cliff had expected to find the house dark and quiet. He'd expected Roz to be sleeping down the hall and for him to come stumbling out in search of coffee in about an hour, cussing out Cliff for being in his house already.
What he hadn't expected, was to find his captain on his knees in front of Shane Hollander.
What he hadn't expected was to see Shane Hollander hold his captain's head still as he fucked into his captain's mouth.
What he hadn't expected was for polite, quiet, all around Nice Canadian Boy Shane Hollander to shout out "Fuck, Ilya!" in what can only be described as a moan as he presumably comes down his captain's throat.
And what he definitely hadn't expected when he walked into Ilya Rozanov's home, was to lock eyes with Shane fucking Hollander as he orgasms.
What the actual fuck is going on here!?
It takes a second, but Hollander seems to snap out of it and something that looks a lot like panic flashes through his eyes. He pushes lightly at Roz's shoulder as he says his name, with a voice that sounds a lot smaller than Cliff has ever heard from the man before.
But Ilya doesn't move.
What the fuck, Roz?
Hollander raises his voice, and sounds a lot more authoritative when he tries again.
"Ilya!"
This time the man tugs Ilya's head backwards with a firm grip in his hair, seemingly meeting some resistance.
For a man who has hooked up with so many women over the years, he sure as fuck seems eager to suck cock. Cliff thinks to himself, before realisation hits him. Fuck!
This doesn't look like this is a first time thing.
Roz hasn't been going out much with the team for the past two years. Not at all this season.
Roz bought a house in a discreet area, seemingly without reason.
This must be his reason.
Shane Hollander is the reason Ilya Rozanov has changed.
Roz has been keeping this secret for probably two years now, and here Cliff is standing, like an absolute idiot, with the front door wide open, inviting anyone who took a peak up the driveway to see.
With a step further into the house, Cliff quickly pushes the door closed behind him with a click.
Finally, Roz seems to realise they're not alone anymore. Cliff sees the muscles in his bare back tense as he sits up straighter, head tilting up to look at Hollander before he turns around, whilst wiping at his face with his hands; Hollander hurrying to make himself decent.
"Marly, what the fuck?!"
Roz's voice sounds angry. It's a tone Cliff has heard hundreds of times over the years, of not usually directed at him. Even his face looks angry. But something isn't right. There's something else in his eyes. A poorly concealed panic that matches Hollander's.
Cliff throws his hands up, nearly dropping the tablet he forgot he's still holding as he takes a step back.
"I'm so sorry, man." He starts, trying to take another step back as Roz rises to his feet, but his heel bumps into the door behind him. "I know I'm early, but I was already in the area and I figured you'd just be sleeping in and I promise I had no idea you had company!"
A quick glance over Roz's shoulder as he keeps rambling tells him Hollander is not handling this situation well. The man looks like he's on the verge of crying, or throwing up, or maybe both.
"I swear I won't tell anyone about this...whatever this is, alright? Your secret is safe with me! And-"
"Shut the fuck up, Marlow." Roz bites out and Cliff closes his mouth so quickly he hears his teeth clicking together with he force. "You don't know shit, you hear me?"
Cliff nods. It's true. He really doesn't know anything. Because Ilya never fucking told him anything.
"Fuck fuck fuck fuck." Hollander starts pacing behind Roz, hands pulling at his hair as he just keeps repeating the same word.
"Shane, hey, it will be alright" Roz goes from stern and bordering on menacing to sweeter than Cliff has ever seen him in the second it takes him to turn around and face his...boyfriend? Fuck buddy? Rival with benefits?
"Alright?!" Hollander repeats, sounding almost hysterical. "You think it'll be alright?! Cliff fucking Marlow just walked in and watched me cum down your throat, and you think this will all just be fine?!"
"Yes." The answer is simple, and Roz pulls Hollander into a hug.
Never, in the five years Cliff has known him, has he ever looked as fucking soft as he does right now, stroking a hand down Hollander's back, swaying softly.
"Marlow is not very bright, but he is not dumb enough to tell anyone about you and me, okay?"
Hey!
Why the fuck is he catching strays?
"He knows I would knock his teeth out if he did that."
"No need to threaten my teeth, cap. I told you I wasn't gonna tell anyone." Cliff cuts in, hoping to steer the conversation away from threatening bodily harm.
"Yes, and I told you to shut up. Look how well that is going." Roz glares at him as Hollander pulls away from the hug.
"This can't keep happening, Ilya. You hear me? We need to be more careful. Maybe you're right, maybe Marlow won't tell anyone, but there can't be a next time! We can't have people walking in on us again!"
Cliffs eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline at that. Again?
"So someone else knows about you guys?" He asks, making both of them turn to face him. "Someone else has walked in on you before?"
"Shane's parents know. David walked in on us at Shane's cottage this summer."
"Holy shit! Your dad walked in on you guys having sex?!"
"Oh, God no!" Hollander says, a look of pure disgust his face. "Thank God, no. He just walked in on us kissing."
Okay, so no sex. That's one trauma avoided for them, at least. Just kissing. At Hollander's cottage. This summer. But Roz always travels back to Russia every summer. He never talks much about what he gets up to in the off season, but he's always gone back home. Except apparently not?
Apparently he's spent the off season with Hollander. At a cottage. Kissing him where his parents could find them.
What the actual fuck?
"So Hollander's parents know, and now me?" He asks, looking from one to the other, hoping one of them is willing to answer questions, because he has a lot of them.
"Yes." Is all Roz answers. Hollander doesn't look like he's about to elaborate either.
"So nobody else knows you guys are gay?"
"Bisexual." Roz corrects him pointing at himself.
"Bisexual then. I guess that makes more sense." Cliff shrugs. "But like, the Hollanders and me, and that's it? No one else knows you guys are bisexual?"
"No, Marly. I am bisexual. Shane is super gay."
"Shut up, I'm not super gay. I'm just regular gay." Hollander swats at Roz's chest as he glares at him, but even Cliff can see the affection in his eyes.
"Yes, yes, okay." Roz takes the hand Hollander just smacked him with and holds it in his own,as of this is something they do all the time. "Look, Marly, I'm sure you have a lot of questions. You can ask three."
"What? Only three?" He finds out his captain is sleeping with the captain of a rival team, and apparently has been doing so for long enough to spend the off season together, and all he gets is three lousy questions?
"Actually, is two now. You have already asked who else knows. That is one. Now you have two more."
He wants to think hard about what he should ask about, pick his questions carefully, but there's one thing that has been niggling at the back of his mind since he walked in the door, and the question slips out before he can stop it.
"Did you buy this house because of Hollander?"
It's obviously not a question either of them are expecting, judging by their faces. Hollander turns to Ilya and looks at him expectantly, curriously even, as if he's just as interested in the answer as Cliff. Roz looks from Cliff, to Hollander and back before heaving a dramatic sigh.
"Yes, okay? I buy this house because I did not want to only see Shane in hotel rooms or in his ridiculous sex condo in Montreal."
"It's not a sex condo!" Hollander sputters, but Roz dismisses his interuption with a wave of his hand.
"Yes, Shane, it is sex condo. But is okay, you are very cute for being so paranoid. But also you being paranoid is why I know you would not feel safe to come to my apartment in the city, so yes, Cliff. I bought this house because it would make Shane feel safe to come to my home and not just hotels in my city. And now you walked in here and Shane will not feel safe to come here again. Thank you."
That thank you did not sound very sincere. In fact, the tone leaves Cliff feeling like, if he doesn't choose his next question carefully, that thank you might be the last words he hears before he dies.
Looking from Roz, back to Hollander, who's watching Ilya's face like he's trying to solve a mystery.
Ilya Rozanov bought a house, just so he could have a place Shane Hollander would feel comfortable meeting him in. That sounds like something a person would do for someone they love. But what about Hollander? Is this love one-sided? Will Hollander reject Ilya at some point and break his heart?
"Do you love him?" Cliff asks, directing his question at Hollander, but both men answer simultaneously, without even a second's pause to consider.
"Yes." Both of them with absolute certainty in their voices. A challenge in their faces as if they are expecting him to argue.
"Okay." Is all he can think to say. Because what the hell is he supposed to say now? He wants to ask more questions, but he's used up the ones they're willing to answer.
They both love eachother. That much is clear. If Roz bought this house for Hollander, that means they've been...whatever they are for at least two years. And in all that time, no one knew about them. They've been keeping this a secret for years, never telling anyone.
Cliff can't even imagine. Last time he started seeing a girl he texted Roz about her the day after their first date. He could never survive keeping it to himself. But he knows why they feel like they have to, he's not that stupid (no matter what Roz might say).
Two captains from rival teams falling in love? It would be a fucking shit storm. And then there's the whole gay thing. Cliff has heard more than enough chirps on the ice that are of the kind that Ilya would never accept from their team; the kind that Scott Hunter admitted in his speech at the awards last summer were part of the reason he was afraid to come out.
No wonder they didn't feel safe meeting up anywhere too obvious.
An alarm blares and Hollander scrambles to retrieve the phone that's on the counter on the opposite end of the kitchen so he can turn it off. A pained look on his face as he walks back over to Roz.
"I have to go."
"I know." Roz sounds heartbroken, pulling Hollander into a hug. "Do not worry about Marly, okay? I will take care of this. You just make sure to get to the airport and you kick Buffalo's asses tomorrow."
Hollander nods, hugging back just as fiercely, and Cliff feels the need to avert his eyes, walking a little further into the house as the other two make their way over to the door to give them at least some semblance of privacy. He still can't help but overhear a kiss, and Hollander saying he'll miss Roz, but that he's looking forward to spending Christmas together.
Fucking Christmas. That's a month away. And they won't see eachother until then? Shit. That's a long time.
"Call me when you get home?" Roz asks, and Hollander must answer with a nod, because Cliff doesn't hear any further words, just the smack of another kiss and then the door.
And then silence.
"I was not joking before, Marlow."
Cliff turns around to face his friend, who's now standing tall, back straight, any trace of softness he'd had around Hollander gone from both his face and his tone.
"You tell anyone about this, and you will be lucky if I only knock out your teeth."
"I swear to God, man, I'm great at keeping secrets, I will never tell anyone."
"Last week Connors told you his wife made him sleep on the couch because he forgot their wedding anniversary, and by the end of practice we all knew about it." Roz raises an eyebrow, looking unimpressed.
"I'm good at keeping important secrets!! Connors sleeping on the couch is fucking funny and you know it." A single raised eyebrow is all the reaction that gets him, so Cliff keeps going. "I would never tell a secret if it was actually important, man! You can trust me! When I was fifteen, I read my sister's diary and to this day, I haven't told anyone about what she wrote in there."
"That just tells me you make a habit of snooping on people's privacy."
"No!!! That's not the point, didn't you hear when I said I never told anyone?! I swear to God, the things she wrote in there? I probably could have gotten rich off of selling that intell to people at school, but I didn't!" He hastily adds that last bit when he can tell my Ilya's face that he still isn't convinced.
He wishes he could tell his friend exactly how juicy the gossip was that Donna had written in her diary - his sister knew exactly who was dating who, who was cheating, who's pretending to be rich to get in with the popular crowd when they really weren't. She'd even found out that the head cheerleader had a girlfriend! And Cliff never fucking told anyone! But telling Ilya all of this would disprove his point about him being a good secret keeper, so he keeps his mouth shut.
"This is not some silly teenage secret, Marlow." Roz walks up to him and looks him straight in the eye, the stern look on his face really hammering home how serious he is about this. "Scott Hunter is the only openly queer hockey player in the whole NHL. Half the league barely accepts him, and his boyfriend is a smoothie barista. He means nothing to hockey. We don't know how people, how the league will react to two hockey players being together. Two rival hockey players. The league has made good money, pitting me and Shane against eachother. They will not be happy, I don't think, to hear that there is no real rivalry. We could lose our jobs."
Roz is right. Cliff hadn't even considered the fact that this secret is a lot more than just the fact that Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander are gay. Its that they are gay together. Or bisexual. Whatever. But Ilya isn't done yet.
"And if everyone here finds out? That means that Russia will find out. If I lose my job? Work visa is gone and I cannot stay here. If Russia decided they do not want to associate with openly queer athlete? They can pull my passport. No passport, no visa, I cannot stay here."
Fuck. Cliff definitely hadn't considered the Russia of it all. He doesn't know exactly what the laws around all of this are, but he overheard some of the guys talking back in 2014, about how one of their cousins really wanted to go to the Olympics, but didn't feel safe because they were gay and Russia wasn't great about that kind of stuff.
"What would happen to you if you have to go back home, and they know about you and Hollander?" He asks. Not sure if he wants to know the answer.
"I don't know." Ilya breaks eyecontact and walks past Cliff towards the livingroom as he continues talking. "My brother is police, and he already hates me. If he finds out I am in love with a man? I don't want to find out what he and his work buddies will be willing to do."
It feels like a bucket of icewater was just dumped over Cliff's head. Roz never talks about his family. He barely told Cliff when his father died, and even that was only after the fact. Hearing that not only does he have a brother, but one that hates him enough that he's scared of what unspeakable things he might do to him if he finds out that Roz is in love? Just because he happens to have fallen in love with a man? Fuck.
He follows his captain into the livingroom.
"I swear to God, Roz. I will never tell anyone about you and Hollander. It's none of my business who you love. You're my friend, and I just want you to be happy, okay?"
Roz's jaw clenches and he looks away from Cliff as he sits down on the couch, shaking his head a little bit and taking a deep breath before turning back to face him.
"Enough of that. You tell anyone, I kill you and now you know that." He nods towards the tablet still in Cliff's hand. "Now we talk about how we will tell coach to treat the rookies fairly."
Cliff can tell Roz is changing the subject because he doesn't wanna get too emotional, but he let's it slide.
*~*~*
It doesn't take them too long to hash out a plan on how to approach the issue with their coach, going over both St. Simone's observations and their own. Ilya has sent off a text to set up a meeting before practice tomorrow morning and they're all set. He's walking Cliff out when he other man chuckles.
"You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to push more of your captain's duties over on me, so you have more time for Hollander."
Ilya rolls his eyes. He's glad that his teammate and friend is taking this so well, especially considering the way in which he found out, but the man's still a fucking idiot.
"I am not pushing my duties on you. I am training you, is big difference."
"Training me?" Marly's brow furrows. "Like a dog?"
"No, you fucking idiot. I am training you to be captain. So when I leave Boston next season, the team will not be left without a good captain."
That stops Marlow in his tracks.
"You're leaving?" He asks, jaw slack and eyes wide.
Ilya can admit to himself - even if he'll never say so out loud - that he does feel a little guilty about leaving his team. But that's why he's doing everything he can to ensure the players will be left in the best hands. Hockey is something that has consumed most of his life, but there is one thing that's more important to him; and that thing is Shane Hollander. He can't go on living so far apart from the love of his life. It's breaking him.
"I am free agent after this season. I am not resigning with Boston."
"What? Why?!"
"I am hoping to sign to another team. Hopefully a Canadian one. One that is closer to Montreal." A light bulb seems to go off in Cliff's head. He's finally getting it. "And when I go, I will put in good word for you, say that I think you should be made captain. Because I know you will be good for the team."
"Wow." Marly says, running a hand through his thick, black hair. "That's a lot, man."
"Yes." Ilya opens his front door, hoping that his friend will take the hint and end the conversation here.
"Look, I'm not gonna lie and say I'm not gonna be sad to see you go, but I get it, okay?" He pulls Ilya into a half hug, slapping his back twice before pulling away again and walking out towards his car, but before he even gets off the front steps, he turns back around.
"I just want you to be happy, man. And if that means moving to fucking Canada so you can be closer to your man? Then you've gotta do what you gotta do, you know?"
Something warm spreads inside Ilya's chest at hearing his friend describe Shane as "his man". Ilya knows that he is, but to hear other people see it so clearly? It's almost enough to make him giddy.
"But damn, Hollander must be really fucking good if he got you of all people willing to settle down. Does he have a magic dick or something?"
A surprised laugh bursts out of Ilya. Magic dick? Well, Shane does have a really nice dick. And mouth. And ass. But though those are things Ilya loves about him, they're not the main reason he's in love with him. They're just a huge bonus.
Not waiting for an answer, Cliff just shakes his head and continues.
"Whatever makes you happy, makes me happy. Even if that means you moving to another country so you don't have to wait so long between each time Hollander can come and bend you over. I'm happy for you man."
Until Hollander can bend you over?!
He thinks that Shane would top him?!
Still not waiting for an answer, Cliff walks the rest of the way to his car and gets in. Acting like there was nothing wrong about the statement he just made.
Another disbelieving laugh makes it's way out of Ilya's mouth.
He doesn't care that Cliff would think Ilya's a bottom. He knows he's got a great ass, anyone would want to fuck him, he gets that. What he truly can't believe is how anyone could look at Shane and think he's a top.
Especially since Cliff walked in on them having sex. He saw the needy, desperate look in Shane's face. And somehow his first thought was still that Shane is a top?!
Cliff Marlow truly is a fucking idiot.