Archive of Our Own

Post-grad life was a lot easier when you lived with your best friend and former co-captain. At least, it would be, if Ilya Rozanov wasn't hopelessly in love with him.

It wasn't immediate. He met Shane freshman year of college at BU, with both of them getting ready for their first skate. Ilya had been tying his laces in the locker room, half an hour early so that he didn't have to run into anyone, when Shane walked in and extended his hand to Ilya. He was so polite, awkward yet charming, that Ilya didn't see the harm in skating with him before impressing their coach. On the ice, Shane Hollander was an entirely different beast, fast as a whip and decisive in his plays. Maybe it was seeing the dichotomy of those personas, maybe it was when they were both named Co-Captain their junior year, maybe it was when they first started living together and Ilya saw Shane labeling his overnight oats while he muttered about macros. But at some point, Ilya realized he loved Shane Hollander, and had for years. All he knew was that they were now 24, longtime roommates, and it was a unique type of euphoric hell.

Most days it was wonderful. They'd bicker like an old married couple, go to work, have dinner together, watch terrible TV or hockey. (Shane still cheered on Montreal, claiming that no matter where he lived now, he was going to be a lifelong Canadian. Ilya supported the Bruins, partially because he had lived in Boston for six years, and partially to piss off Shane. And also because of the bear mascot, which he claimed had a spiritual link to Russia.) But there were moments where Shane looked at him a little too long, and all Ilya wanted to do was touch him, that felt like absolute agony. Even worse, Shane had started dating more, for some reason. As best friend and roommate, Ilya was usually the first to hear about the men who didn't treat Shane half as well as he deserved.

It was a week after one of the dates that Shane’s coworkers and longtime friend Rose insisted on coming over and sharing a mix of cocktail recipes and bad date stories. Ilya preferred hanging out with his coworkers, but most of them lived in the suburbs, and he knew Shane hated dealing with traffic. So if he had the time and energy, he’d rather spend it with Shane and tolerate his idiot friends. Well, he loved Jackie and Rose. And JJ wasn’t too bad. It was just one idiot friend, Hayden Pike. How this blunt and insensitive bonehead managed to not only trick sweet Shane into regularly talking to him, as well as marry the hilarious and brilliant Jackie, Ilya would never know. Rose was passing out mint juleps with sprigs of fresh mint from her very own garden, when the topic of dating came back up.

“Buddy, don’t give yourself a hard time,” JJ said, accepting his drink from Rose. “Most of the time it’s awkward, sometimes you have sex, and on rare occasions, you fall in love.” Shane squirmed in his seat.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” Ilya added. He meant it, from how uncomfortable Shane looked. But he very selfishly wanted Shane to stop dating all together. Shane gave him a grateful smile.

“I know, but I want to keep trying.”

Rose settled in next to Shane. “I’d give you the cliches that girls hear growing up, you have to kiss a lot of frogs to find your Prince Charming, blah blah blah, but you know all that. Just know that it won’t be like this forever.” Shane squeezed her hand, and Ilya looked into his drink.

“Yeah, babe, we’ve all been there,” Jackie chimed in. “You’re just kissing frogs right now!”

“Like the guy who humped your thigh,” Hayden snorted.

Shane gave a warning “Hayden...” at the same moment that Ilya asked “Excuse me?” Normally Ilya would snark at Hayden for not picking up on his best friend's obvious discomfort, but Shane was turning the cutest shade of pink, and the image of Shane not being satisfied by another man was enough to fuel Ilya's pining for at least another six months.

“Yeah, it was right after you broke up with Matt something. You said you were making out and then instead of having sex he just rubbed his dick on your upper thigh until he finished.” The group roared with laughter. Ilya wiped a tear from his eye.

“Maybe he missed?” he asked.

“Maybe he was home schooled by really religious parents and thought that's what sex is,” Jackie added.

“Can we not talk about this?” Shane grumbled. Rose squeezed his hand in pity.

“Sweetie, we all have embarrassing sex stories. Like the guy who asked me if we were still using condoms the day Roe v. Wade was overturned.” Hayden choked on a sip of his drink.

“Please, please tell me you didn't sleep with him after he said that,” Jackie practically begged. Rose shrugged.

“It was a sad day and I was already turned on!” Jackie solemnly nodded.

“I get it,” Jackie said. “I had someone try and finger me through a pad and I stayed with them for a while.” JJ practically howled with laughter as Hayden turned bright red. This might be the best day of Ilya's life.

“Pike...” he started gleefully.

“NO IT WASN'T ME!”

Ilya was about to make a comment somewhere along the lines of “the lady doth protest too much” when Jackie stepped in.

“It was actually a woman,” she said. “You'd think that with the same equipment you'd know when things feel wrong, but no.” Rose was mumbling something about how the crinkling of plastic should've been a dead giveaway, when the full picture hit Ilya.

“Wait, a fellow bisexual? Nice!” He offered up a high five, which Jackie happily gave. “No wonder you're so much cooler than your hetero husband.” Hayden started to flip off Ilya, but Jackie quickly pushed his hand down. JJ leaned forward.

“So you must have some good disaster date stories, eh Rozanov?” Suddenly, the focus of the room was on him. He didn't trust himself to even look in Shane's direction.

“Oh because all bisexuals are sluts, is that what you're saying?” he asked coolly. JJ started to shrink back into his seat, as Ilya had hoped. Hell, Hayden might've balked at the comment if he'd been on the receiving end. Unfortunately, Rose just rolled her eyes.

“No, jackass, because you've got a broader taste. Different experiences.”

Ilya's face was getting hot. He still felt Shane's eyes on him, boring a hole into his left cheek. He pushed the panic down, and continued with the relaxed demeanor.

“If I tell stories, how am I going to maintain my status as the mysterious foreigner to you all? Must keep my secrets close.” JJ and Rose both started to speak, but Shane waved them off.

“Leave him alone, guys. No one has to share anything they don't want to.” Ilya finally turned to Shane to throw him a grateful smile. Shane ducked his head, a blush appearing.

“Although I am also a foreigner,” Shane muttered.

“You're Canadian, it barely counts! It's right there!” Ilya protested. Shane turned to JJ, ignoring him.

“Besides, I don’t think Jackie knows the story about your horrific squirrel murder date.”

“Mon dieu,” groaned JJ. “Okay, so there I was walking along the Esplanade with this gorgeous woman, and suddenly, I hear this otherworldly screaming. And it’s a fucking squirrel in a tree. Just staring at a hawk on the ground, brutally eating another squirrel.”

Rose and Jackie shrieked while Hayden gagged.

“Was that it’s mate or something?” Jackie asked, horrified.

“I don’t know, I think I’d scream if I saw a giant bird eating one of my kind, whether I knew them or not,” Rose said. The group began debating whether or not the squirrel had known his murdered brethren, and Ilya let the sound fade away. Instead focusing on Shane.

As if feeling Ilya’s gaze, Shane turned his head and looked at him. Instantly, a soft smile appeared. Shane had never been very comfortable with eye contact with others, but with Ilya, he was able to connect for what seemed like forever. Whether it was in a crowded bar or just their apartment, sometimes they were able to communicate just by locking eyes. Shane raised an eyebrow, as if asking “You okay?” Ilya nodded, doing his best to thank Shane for changing the subject. Shane’s shoulders relaxed, and he dove back into the conversation, seemingly convinced that Ilya was comfortable.

It wasn’t until after everyone had left, when the two of them were cleaning up the apartment, and Ilya had been lulled into a false sense of security, that he became the focus again.

“So, you want to be mysterious?” Shane asked, his voice a few octaves too high to be as casual as he pretended. Ilya stared at the dirty dishes in the sink. He was suddenly very jealous of the crumbs about to be washed down the drain.

“You’ve never heard of ‘don’t kiss and tell’?” he asked instead.

“It's just odd that we were all sharing bad dates and sex stories and you didn't have anything,” Shane said. Ilya could feel Shane’s eyes on him as he focused on the dishes.

“Yes, well, not everything needs to be shared. I already knew your ex Matt had the emotional depth of a folding chair, you were the one who told me he couldn't finish if he wore a condom.”

“Okay, I told you that when you made me drink your Russian vodka, which might be lighter fluid. And don't change the subject.” Shane wasn’t going to let this go. Ilya could continue deflecting, but it would be fruitless. Nothing stopped Hollander when he wanted to get to the bottom of something. And he knew he could never lie to him. He tried to concentrate on sounding nonchalant instead of the words he was actually saying.

“Maybe I don’t have any stories to share,” he finally admitted. Ilya didn’t have to look over from the sink to know Shane had stopped picking up paper napkins.

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“But you’re... you.” Ilya turned away from the sink to finally look at Shane. He looked like someone had told him that hockey had a new rule where birds were allowed on the ice. Ilya felt just as confused.

“What does that mean?”

“You’re always flirting, always kissing people at parties.”

“I know.”

“You go home with a lot of them,” Shane continued.

“Yes. I make sure they have a good time, but I never...” Never have sex with any of them because they’re not you, he thought.

“Svetlana said they were going to have to open a Yelp Reviews page for you.”

“Yes I know!” Ilya snapped. He refused to admit to Shane that that particular joke had been Sveta’s very poor attempt at making Ilya seem desirable to him. Which was a pointless endeavor anyway.

Shane was still now, waiting for Ilya to continue when he was comfortable. Ilya dropped his gaze, unable to keep looking into Shane’s beautiful doe eyes.

“Is embarrassing,” he mumbled. Shane crossed the kitchen to stand next to Ilya. He playfully knocked his shoulder, as if they had just finished a game together. Ilya smiled.

“Virginity is stupid, okay? I had sex with my high school girlfriend when I was 17 and hated it. I didn’t realize I was gay until college, and didn’t work up the nerve to actually do anything with a guy until I was 21. So which one counts as losing it, you know?” Ilya didn’t fully know what Shane meant, but he basked in the warmth of Shane’s body next to him.

“It’s not embarrassing, Ilya. I was just surprised.”

“Okay.”

“I mean it.” Shane was still trying to catch Ilya’s eye, and he was pointedly avoiding him. He turned back to the sink and ran the tap.

“Can we talk about something else, please?” he asked, his voice small. Shane squeezed his shoulder again, leaving to continue his clean up. As happy as Ilya was to have the subject over and done with, he hated the lack of warmth at his side.

Ilya figured that with a full evening of friends commiserating, as well as his admission to Shane that he’d never had sex, he was safe from hearing about dates again any time soon. But less than two weeks later, he watched as Shane came home two hours later than normal and headed straight for their bathroom. He hadn’t even taken off his shoes. Ilya heard the shower running, surprised that Shane hadn’t even greeted him as he sat in their living room. It also occurred to Ilya that going straight into the bathroom meant that Shane was going to exit wearing nothing but a towel. He was very decidedly not going to witness one of his wet dreams come to life when Shane was obviously upset. So, Ilya turned up the tv a little too loud, glued his eyes to the screen, and did his best to ignore the sound of doors opening and closing. It wasn’t until he saw Shane out of his periphery (safely wearing an extra large hoodie), that Ilya turned to look at him.

“You want to talk about what’s wrong?” he asked. Shane hugged his chest. Ilya watched as Shane mentally catalogued through his choice of words.

“I was on a date tonight.”

Ilya ignored the screaming voice in his head telling him to not get further details. “Okay?”

“I thought it was going well, we were talking about hockey-”

“That doesn’t mean a date is going well, Hollander.”

“Shut up; he was really listening and was talking about his experience being a queer hockey fan, which was nice to talk about with someone. And he was easy to talk to. But he had six drinks when I had two, and eventually he kept kissing me.”

Ilya never understood the English phrase “feel your blood run cold”. Not until this moment. The chill in him was deep in his body, in his marrow. There was something fundamentally wrong with his body, and he hadn’t even moved.

“What do you mean he kept kissing you?” Shane shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“We were sitting at the bar and he asked to kiss me, and it was nice at first. But he kept going, so I pulled away and said that I wasn’t comfortable with public affection. And he pulled me back.”

“I will murder him.”

“No, Ilya...” Shane sighed. “Can I just curl up next to you and watch something where I don't have to think?”

Ilya’s nerves were screaming at him. It was hard enough getting through each day living with Shane. Occasionally seeing him without a shirt, the brushing of their hands when they traded takeout containers, hearing him mutter to himself when he thought Ilya wasn’t paying attention. If Shane actually cuddled with him, he’d be getting closer to the one thing he wanted that he knew he’d never have.

But this wasn’t about Ilya. This was about Shane. Who had gone through something horrible, and needed his best friend. Ilya lifted his arm, allowing for plenty of space.

“Of course.”

“Thanks.” Shane settled into Ilya’s side, resting his head on Ilya’s shoulder. The still damp hair brushed Ilya’s cheek. He reveled in the smell; sea salt shampoo.

“What are we watching?”

“Drag queens make fun of Netflix. They're funny.”

“Oh.”

“I was just about to pick a new episode,” he lied. “Do you want to watch them make fun of Love is Blind?” Shane scrunched his nose.

“What's Love is Blind?”

“Oh my god, Hollander, it's amazing how you don't absorb any pop culture. It bounces off you.” Shane rolled his eyes.

“Just play the episode, Rozanov.”

Over the few days, Shane made sure to stress multiple times that he wasn’t traumatized, just annoyed about the whole thing. He also had begged Ilya not to track down this random man and beat the shit out of him, which Ilya begrudgingly agreed to.

Shane was home more often now, which he was thankful for, but he wished it hadn’t happened because of such a bad experience. They fell into a regular routine; on weeknights come home from work, cook dinner together, watch hockey, procedural tv, or YouTube. On Saturday mornings Shane would drag them to the gym. Ilya would complain the entire time about Saturday being a day meant for relaxing even though they both knew he enjoyed the exercise. They’d order take out for dinner and watch a movie. Sundays were cleaning the apartment followed by whatever reward Ilya determined they had earned that day (usually ice cream and video games). It was comfortable, even if Ilya felt as if he was playing pretend boyfriend.

About a month had passed of this homey lifestyle, when on one Thursday, Shane texted Ilya not to wait for him for dinner because he had a last minute date. Ilya reread the message over and over. He knew it couldn’t last forever, Shane just being his. All of their free time being spent together.

When he got home from work, Ilya pity ordered himself delivery food and changed into his favorite ratty tee shirt from college. He debated smoking a cigarette before remembering that Shane had made him throw out his last pack, instead chewing on stupid nicotine gum. He had just finished putting away the last of the leftovers when Shane stomped through the front door.

“I’m going to become a monk,” Shane grumbled.

“That bad?” Ilya asked. Shane groaned, running a hand through his hair before he started pacing the living room.

“He took me to Dunkin’ because it was the only place open that he knew how to drive to. Then he pitched me his movie idea, which was just a rip off of Fight Club, but without examining society or mental health. Then he kept talking about his ex from like a year ago and how she was pregnant now, and he kept saying ‘that could’ve been me’, whatever the fuck that means.”

“Probably that he fucked her without a condom,” Ilya added helpfully. Shane ignored him.

“THEN when he was dropping me off here, I told him I didn’t see us going on a second date, and he kept asking me why!” Shane collapsed on the couch next to Ilya.

“Was he cute at least?” Ilya asked, despite his better judgment. Shane’s cheeks turned pink.

“I don’t know.”

“Hollander, you know if he was cute or not.” Shane wrestled his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it, and quickly handed it to him. Ilya knew he was truly flustered then, because Shane would never grant him access to his unlocked phone in a clear state of mind.

“You be the judge,” Shane muttered, looking away. Ilya swiped through the photos on the app, disappointed to see that the man was not completely repugnant. A notification for an unread message pinged through.

“Ah.”

“What?” Shane asked.

“He is asking again why there won’t be another date.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ilya bit his lip to hold in a laugh. He couldn’t, however, hold back the smirk. Shane smacked Ilya’s shoulder.

“Stop enjoying this.”

Ilya knew he was selfish. He knew that hoping each terrible date would be the last that he had to hear about was unrealistic. And he did legitimately want Shane to be happy. But he couldn’t stop grinning each time Shane described how unenjoyable they were. These pathetic men who were lucky enough to be in the same room as Shane and didn’t spend every second making it worth his while.

He didn’t realize just how obvious his glee had been until one night that Shane came home from a date with someone JJ had set him up with. Instead of his usual debrief, Shane just waved, took off his shoes, and hung up his coat. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a ginger ale, totally silent. Panic started to flood Ilya. Had it gone well? Was Shane already falling for someone? Would he have to watch the only person he’d ever loved start to live out a dream life with someone else?

“You’re not going to tell me how it went?” Ilya asked from the living room. He could hear his heartbeat pulsing in his eardrums. Shane leaned against the wall of the kitchen, taking a sip from his ginger ale.

“It was fine. He was nice, we just didn’t connect,” Shane answered. Ilya felt himself breathe again.

“That’s it? No details?” Shane shrugged. “Nothing?”

“There’s nothing to tell!”

“He didn’t tell you he wanted to rearrange your guts before even kissing you? He didn’t leave dirty condoms on the nightstand?” Shane was turning pink, but Ilya had to know. He had to make sure that Shane wasn’t anywhere close to being with someone else.

Shane scoffed. “You know, you could act a little less pleased when I have a shit date. At least I’m going out and trying.” Ilya recoiled.

“What’s that supposed to mean, Hollander?”

Shane turned his back to Ilya, looking at something in the kitchen. “Nothing. Forget it.”

“No no, say what you’re thinking.”

“Forget it, okay?”

“No. Continue what you started.” Ilya knew he was being mean. He knew he was pushing when Shane was trying to change the subject, but he didn't care. Shane was supposed to say what he thought of him, the brutal truth. He'd say Ilya had enough ridiculous hair products to open his own salon, or he'd say that Ilya was disgusting for drinking milk past the expiration date. Shane wasn't supposed to make a passive aggressive comment and be done talking.

“Dating is hard. Most of the time it’s humiliating and exhausting. But it’s really easy for you to just sit there and laugh at me when you haven’t told me about a date in ages.”

“You think I am laughing at you?”

“What else am I supposed to think? When I come home and tell my best friend that I just spent hours being miserable and he fucking smiles about it?”

“Luchshiy drug” Ilya muttered bitterly. “You don’t know anything.”

“Fine. But I know it’s making me feel like shit.” Ilya felt a bubble of guilt in his stomach. He pushed it down, defensive.

“For that, I am sorry. But what do you care what I think anyway?”

“Are you really asking me that?”

They stared at each other.

“Fuck this. I’m going out.” Ilya stomped towards the front door, fumbling with his coat on the coat rack.

“What? Where?”

“Maybe I’m going on a date, Hollander. Would that make you happy?” He kicked his toes into his shoes, barely getting them on his feet before he was out the door.

“Whatever,” he heard Shane mutter.

Ilya scrolled through his contacts as he sat on the cold park bench. The problem with knowing your friends so well was that when you screwed up, you knew exactly what they'd say. Svetlana would call him an idiot and a coward, which he already knew he was. Bood had just had a baby, so anything that wasn't a hospital trip was not a priority. Harris would give good advice, but the disappointment in his voice would make Ilya feel even worse. Troy would say he was bad with feelings. Plus he hadn't worked up the nerve to ask out Harris after 3 painfully obvious months of them blushing around each other, so frankly Ilya didn't want his advice. Wyatt would give him good advice, but in a very roundabout way, and probably using examples from comic books that Ilya had never heard of, and he didn't have the energy to follow all of that right now. He locked his phone, and took out a cigarette that wouldn't fix anything, but would hopefully stop the buzzing in his head.

The person he knew best, beyond anyone he'd ever met, was Shane. It was Shane he wanted to talk to. And Shane would tell him to apologize, and to be direct so there was no mistaking what he meant. Which Ilya knew was the right thing to do. It was one of the things he loved about Shane; that he was so principled, it would sometimes guide Ilya in the right direction. He took a drag from his cigarette and looked out at the city.
Tomorrow, after they were both home from work, he would get the nerve to apologize and explain. And if he was lucky, he could get absolutely wasted with his friends after his rejection.

“Can we talk?” Ilya hadn't meant to ask the second after Shane closed the front door, but he had been anxious all day, and it had frankly fried his senses. He'd left work half an hour early to make sure he was home before Shane, took a shot of vodka, brushed his teeth, started reorganizing his closet, gave up, and ended up playing solitaire on his phone until he heard the key in the door. If he waited any longer, he might give himself a hernia.

“Alright.” Shane couldn’t have appeared more guarded if he had come home wearing armor. He toed off his shoes, still staying close to the front door. Ilya took a deep breath.

“I am sorry for making you feel like shit. I did not mean to.” Shane gave a curt nod. Fuck. He continued. “I am never laughing at you. I am laughing at the idiots who wasted your time.”

Shane's shoulders relaxed. “Really?”

“Yes. They are on a date with Shane Hollander, and they spend their time terribly, when they should be doing everything to make you happy.” He took another steadying breath. “And also, I was jealous.” Shane smiled at him.

“Ilya, you’re such a catch. If you just went out occasionally or put yourself on a dating app, I’m sure-”

“No. Not jealous of you. It is you.” Shane tilted his head to the side. He looked like a confused puppy. Ilya wanted to live in this moment, staring at Shane’s cute puzzled expression before he ruined their friendship forever.

“I am jealous of them, Hollander. The men you... It is why I haven’t been on a date in so long. It is you.”

Ilya hadn't experienced a silence like this since he lived in Russia. Cold. Terrifying.

“What?” Shane finally asked.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t... just give me a minute, okay?” Shane started pacing the thin hallway, head down, fingers fluttering. Ilya was grateful for the sound of his steps on the carpet, at least it wasn't dead quiet anymore. After what felt like an hour, but was probably only a minute, Shane stopped, looking up at Ilya.

“You’re serious, you’re not teasing me or joking?”

“No, I’m sorry.”

“Ilya, stop apologizing.” Ilya bit his lip to hold in another apology. He debated saying it in Russian, but Shane was getting more familiar with common phrases, and he didn't want to push his luck. Still, he wanted to acknowledge his fault in the situation.

“I know it will make things difficult,” he admitted. Shane shook his head.

“It won’t. It actually makes things a lot easier.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I thought it was obvious.” Ilya just stared at him, waiting. Shane let out a wet laugh, then crossed the room to stand in front of him. Slowly, he reached up to graze Ilya’s cheek with his fingertips. His touch was featherlight, as if Shane was worried he’d disappear. Shane's eyes were shining, but he was smiling.

“Ilya,” he whispered.

“Oh.” Shane laughed again.

“Yeah. ‘Oh,’” he said. Ilya placed his hand over Shane’s, fully pressing the palm to his cheek. A terrible thought brought Ilya away from the softness and warmth.

“How... recent?” he asked. Shane looked down at the floor, taking a shuddering breath.

“Years.”

“Years?” Shane nodded shyly, still keeping his focus on the floor. “But you have been going out so much...”

“I was trying to move on. I figured it got to a point where I was just pathetic.” Ilya ran over the words from their argument.

“And you thought I was laughing at you. Oh moya lyubov. Never.”

“I know you’re not cruel, I just didn’t know what else to think.” Ilya kissed his cheek. When he pulled back, there was a new look in Shane's eyes; one he'd never seen in him before, but instantly recognized. Desire.
Slowly, Ilya leaned back in, pressing his lips to Shane's. Shane's fingers flexed on Ilya's cheek, pulling him closer, inviting him to deepen the kiss. Ilya wrapped an arm around Shane's waist. His tongue licked the seam of Shane's lips, and Shane happily opened them. Instantly, the kiss went from soft to wanting. Shane sucked Ilya's bottom lip, and his knees weakened. It had been a while for Ilya, but surely kissing couldn't have been this enjoyable before. Heat pooled in his gut. He started kissing Shane's jaw, leaving a trail of kisses down his throat.

“Fucking teach me, Shane”, Ilya breathed into his neck. He felt Shane shiver underneath him.

“What?”

“All these bad dates you go on when I'm right here. Teach me how to make you feel good. Please.”

“Ilya...” Shane was having trouble breathing now, but Ilya kept kissing his neck.

“Just tell me what to do and I'll do it. I'll be so good for you.”

“I know you would, it's not that. It's just. Ilya.” Shane pushed him off, breathing heavily. “This is a big deal. For both of us. Are you sure?”

“Hollander... You're all I've wanted for so long.” He regretted it as soon as he said it. He should've just admitted he had feelings, and kept it simple. Now Shane was staring at him with his big doe eyes like he was analyzing every moment of their friendship. As per usual, Ilya had ruined everything.

“Fuck,” Shane whispered, and suddenly he was back on Ilya, crashing their lips together. Ilya was frozen for a second, his brain unsure if he was dreaming. But quickly his body caught up with the reality before him. Shane Hollander was kissing him like there was no tomorrow, and Ilya was going to enjoy every second of it. He wrapped his arms around Shane’s back, pulling him even closer. He felt one of Shane’s hands card through his curls, and unwittingly moaned into Shane’s mouth.

“Bedroom,” Shane groaned, still holding onto Ilya. Ilya nodded, pulling them both down the hall towards his door. Shane’s hands were all over him, exploring every inch, while he fiercely kissed Ilya. Ilya felt his back hit the doorknob, wincing. Shane broke away.

“Shit, are you okay?” he asked. Ilya looked at Shane. His eyes, pupils blown wide. His hair sticking up in different directions. His lips swollen, a thin layer of spit catching the light.

“I’m great.” He leaned in to give Shane a delicate kiss; quick, and without the heat from earlier. “I’m so happy, Shane.”

“Who knew you were such a romantic?”

“Only for you.” Ilya kissed his jaw, moved to the spot behind his ear, before taking his earlobe in between his teeth. Shane moaned. Ilya grinned before pressing a kiss to his collarbone. Fighting the urge to kiss Shane until his legs collapsed, he took a step to open his door.

They tumbled in, giggling, and kissing, their hands constantly moving, exploring. Ilya pulled away, roughly reaching for the bottom of his shirt, grinning as he watched Shane start to do the same. He shimmied out of his jeans and underwear, leaving them in a pile on the floor, looking up to see Shane fully undressed. Ilya hadn’t seen Shane naked since they shared a locker room together, and even then he’d done his best to avert his gaze. Standing across from him now, Shane was even more muscular than Ilya had remembered. His cock, which Ilya had purposefully avoided looking at in the past, was huge. Possibly bigger than his own. He had stretch marks that ran through his hips like faint bolts of lightning. Perfect brown nipples were placed in the middle of pecs that were almost certainly molded to fit into the palm of Ilya's hand. Everything about Shane was beautiful; designed by the universe to draw Ilya in.

Ilya took a step forward, eager to put his hands back on the perfect body, when Shane held up his palm to stop him.

“Just to be clear, it’s not just ‘feelings’. And this isn’t just hooking up. I... I love you.” Shane’s arm was trembling the slightest bit. If Ilya didn’t know him as well as he did, he might not have even noticed the tremble. But he did know Shane. He knew how nervous he must be, how afraid he was that Ilya was going to say he just had a crush or that his attraction was merely physical.

“Shane, I am so in love with you,” he said. He watched the anxiety melt away from Shane.

“Really?”

“Yes. And when we are no longer hard as stone and getting past years of sexual tension, I will tell you all about it.” Shane rolled his eyes as he failed to hide a smile, and Ilya pushed him onto the bed. He crawled over Shane, leaning in to kiss him deeply.

“What do you want to do?” Shane asked.

“Whatever makes you feel good,” Ilya murmured into his mouth, before kissing him again. He felt Shane smile as he broke away from the kiss.

“You have to be a bit more specific, Ilya.”

“Can I... Touch you?”

“Absolutely.” Ilya's hand went for Shane's cock, already hard. A bead of precome was at the tip. Ilya nudged it with his thumb, using the fluid to ease his movement as he stroked Shane's length.

“Christ,” Shane breathed. “Come here.” He grabbed Ilya's neck and pulled him in for a deep kiss while Ilya continued to pump his hand.

“I don't think, with you looking like this, after so many years, I will last long. So I want to make it good for you.” Suddenly, Shane's hand was on his wrist, stopping the movement. Ilya instantly let go, panic surging through his veins. He looked at Shane to see his eyes full of determination.

“This will be good because it's you and me,” Shane said simply. “Even if you last a second or don't want to do anything other than touching. No one knows me like you do.” Shane let go of Ilya's wrist to push a stray curl out of his eye. Ilya leaned into his touch. A shy smile spread across Shane's face.

“And if afterwards you feel like it could've been better, then I guess we'll just have to have lots and lots of practice.”

“Fuuuuck, Hollander,” Ilya moaned. Shane started to laugh, but it was cut short when Ilya licked a long, slow stripe on the underside of his dick. His lips wrapped around the head of Shane's cock, before he pressed his tongue into the slit. Shane arched his back, moaning.

“Holy shit, Rozanov.”

Ilya grinned wickedly. “I said I was a virgin, not a saint.” He enjoyed the weak chuckle from Shane before licking another long stripe on his cock. He opened his mouth and took in Shane's length as far back as he could. The weight on his tongue felt like drinking water when he didn't know he'd been dehydrated. He hollowed his cheeks, moving up and down. Shane's hips bucked, but Ilya pressed his thumbs into them, keeping him steady on the bed. He hummed, and Shane let out a moan.

“Stop, stop,” Shane groaned. Ilya pulled away.

“No good?”

“Too good.” He pulled Ilya up into a searing kiss. “If I don't suck your dick now I'm going to die. Please let me suck your dick. Please.” Ilya tried to retreat to humor, his safeguard. But he knew he failed when he heard the shake in his voice.

“If you insist.”

Shane began kissing down his chest, stopping to tug on his right nipple with his teeth, then moving over to do the same with the left. He continued until he reached Ilya's pelvis, pressing his forehead into the crease between his groin and his thigh. Ilya felt Shane nuzzle into his skin, before pressing soft kisses on the insides of his thighs. Ilya let out a shuddering breath, practically vibrating in anticipation. Shane kissed the head of Ilya's cock, looking up at Ilya beneath his long eyelashes. Then, without breaking eye contact, Shane put his lips around the tip and began moving. He swirled his tongue around the tip, then began moving his mouth up and down Ilya's length. He placed his left hand on the base, moving it in sync with his mouth, while his right hand held Ilya down at the thigh. Shane closed his eyes and let out a hum. Ilya wanted to cry. The hum had reverberated through his dick and sent a shiver up his spine. No wonder Shane had begged to get his hands on him.

“Moya lyubov, if you keep- ah- this up, I won't be able to do much else,” he panted.

Shane pulled off and placed a kiss on his stomach. “Can I get you off? Then I can take a quick shower and come back for more.”

Ilya was actually going to die. Or he was already dead, and this was heaven. He didn't think he'd make it to heaven, considering all the nonsense he'd pulled as a teenager, so this was a nice surprise. He forced himself to speak.

“Only if I get you off too.” Shane flushed pink, a shy smile on his face, and started adjusting his position on the bed. He swung one leg over Ilya's so that he was straddling the bottom of his leg. Then, Shane lowered himself again, giving little kitten licks to Ilya before taking him in his mouth again. He was moving with more fervor, now that Ilya had given him permission; hollowing his cheeks and taking him even deeper. He felt Shane's dick thump against his thigh and forced himself to take in the entire moment: Shane was humping Ilya's leg while giving him a blowjob. He looked to Shane's eyes, watching him merely nod, still focused on his task. He pressed his tongue into Ilya's slit and hummed. Ilya's head hit the pillow with a gasp.

“Fuck Shane, you better get off. I'm going to...” he trailed off, feeling Shane's moan around him. Shane only sped up, and within seconds Ilya was coming. But Shane was swallowing him still, taking every drop that spilled, until Ilya fell flush against the mattress. He felt outside of his body, as if he was floating. He wasn't sure how many minutes had passed, but eventually he felt Shane placing gentle kisses on his body as he crawled back up the bed. After a kiss to the shoulder, Shane lay on the pillow next to him, smiling.

“Hi,” Shane said.

“Hi.” Ilya leaned in and softly kissed Shane's lips. He sighed dreamily as he settled back into the pillow. “You love me back.”

Shane nodded. “I do.”

Ilya let his fingers trail across Shane's bicep. “Can I?” Shane ducked his head.

“Oh, um, I already...”

Ilya looked down to see the noticeable wet spot on the bed next to his legs. He smirked.

“So easy for me, huh?” Shane pushed his shoulder away, but there was no real effort behind it.

“Shut up, I've wanted to touch you for years. I got into it.”

“Good,” said Ilya. And he meant it. He'd hoped to make Shane come on his own, but enjoying himself was all that mattered. Shane rolled his eyes.

“I'm gonna take a quick shower, okay?”

Ilya nodded, happy to stay in this moment until he came back to earth. Shane gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and walked out of the room. It wasn't until Ilya heard the shower turn on that his brain started questioning everything. He needed to make sure this moment was real, and not just another dream that would leave him heartbroken in the morning. He squeezed his crucifix with this thumb and forefinger, taking notice of the indentations it left. He pinched his hip, then his thigh. He considered searching the internet to see if he'd fallen into another reality, but he didn't know where his phone was, and he wasn't completely sure what to search for. “Scientists Confirm Reality Shift”? “Russian Idiot So In Love Breaks Universe”?

The door to the bedroom opened, and Shane stood in the doorway with a towel around his waist. His hair was damp, and his skin was pinker from the shower. He looked almost embarrassed, shoulders hunched forward and eyes searching the room. Little details that Ilya would know anywhere. He pushed himself up onto his elbows.

“This is real,” Ilya said. Shane smiled. He stood straighter, making eye contact with Ilya.

“Yeah.”

“Come here.”

Shane unwrapped the towel from around his waist and hung it on the back of the door. Of course he wouldn't leave it in a heap on the floor, even in the heat of the moment. Shane sat next to Ilya, letting Ilya pull him close into lazy kisses. Slow, wet, messy. They sucked on each other's tongues and pulled at each other's lips. There was no rush. Ilya was happy to take his time now that he was certain it was actually happening. They pulled apart to catch their breath, Ilya resting his forehead on Shane's.

“Here's what I'm thinking,” Shane murmured.

“Tell me.”

“I ride you, and if you get comfortable enough, you can take over with positions. Okay?” As the silence stretched on, Ilya realized Shane was expecting an answer.

“I'm sorry, I blacked out after you said you were going to ride me.” Shane grinned, shaking his head.

“Are you okay with that? Taking charge?” Shane asked, eyes full of sincerity. He was just as concerned with making sure Ilya was enjoying himself too. Ilya tried to focus on the heat in his gut instead of the mushy feeling in his heart.

“You like being told what to do?” he asked in return. Shane broke eye contact, shyly looking down at the bed.

“I’d like it if you told me what to do.”

Ilya's stomach flipped. He grabbed the base of Shane's neck and pulled him into a deep kiss. He pulled away suddenly, feeling smug as Shane attempted to chase his lips. Ilya gripped Shane's neck so that he was just out of reach.

“Open yourself up for me, Hollander. Show me what you like.”

Shane nodded eagerly. Ilya let go of him to sit at the foot of the bed, legs crossed. Shane reached into the side of his dresser and pulled out a bottle of lube. He dripped some onto his fingers before putting the bottle next to him on the bed. Reclining against the headboard, only half sitting up, Shane began to circle his rim with a single finger. With a breathy moan, he pushed one finger in, making small circular motions. After a few minutes, he added a second finger, and began breathing heavier.

Ilya felt all the moisture in his mouth disappear.

“Pay attention, Rozanov.”

“I can promise you that is all I am doing,” he managed to choke out.

“No, you're being turned on. Pay attention to how my fingers are moving.”

Ilya was more focused on how Shane's fingers were moving than anything he had ever focused on. He just also happened to be incredibly turned on. Multiple things could be true at once. Still, he willed himself to not just watch the motions, but try to understand them.

“You want to... move around, stretch me... so that I can eventually take you,” Shane panted. Ilya wanted to make a remark about how he understood how sex worked, but just then Shane's head fell back against the headboard as he moaned. Ilya felt his cock twitch against his leg. Shane pulled out his fingers, his asshole fluttering around the space his fingers had just been.

“Do you feel comfortable trying?” Shane asked. He was still trying to settle his breathing, his cheeks flushed. Ilya nodded, moving forward to straddle one of Shane's legs. He popped open the cap of lube, drizzling some onto his fingertips. The chill sent a shock through his arm. He rubbed his fingers and thumb together, looking at Shane, who was smiling.

“You already know to warm it,” Shane said softly.

“Well yes, if it was cold to my fingers, must feel freezing to you, no?” Shane draped his arms around Ilya's neck and pressed a kiss to Ilya's cheek. He put his lips to the shell of Ilya's ear.

“Get inside me already.”

Ilya didn't need further invitation. He slipped his pointer finger in, feeling the wet heat welcome him, as if he'd always belonged there. He roamed with his finger, studying Shane's face for discomfort.

“Like this?”

“Yeah. And if you curl upward you should feel- FUCK!”

Ilya grinned. “Your prostate?” he asked. Shane nodded. Ilya silently congratulated himself on paying attention to Shane, as well as the gay porn subscription he'd had while it was on sale. He started to withdraw, just so he could reenter with his middle finger as well. He alternated between scissoring his fingers and moving them far in and almost out. Shane was starting to move his hips with him now, aching for more.

“Why do you think I never slept with anyone?” Ilya asked. He curled a finger up to stroke Shane’s prostate. Shane arched off the bed, pushing his head deep into a pillow. Ilya kissed his cheek before continuing. “I knew nothing would be as beautiful as this. Look at you.”

“Fuck, Ilya,” Shane whined. He wrapped a hand around Ilya's bicep and squeezed the muscle.

“Another?” Ilya asked. Shane nodded quickly. Ilya pulled out his fingers, which caused Shane to involuntarily whine. Ilya kissed his hip in apology, then added more lube to his fingers. He thrust in again, and Shane gasped.

“Never in my wildest dreams did I think you would be this eager,” Ilya murmured. He stroked Shane's prostate again, and Shane let out a cry. “I would have made you feel good ages ago. All you had to do was ask.”

“Please,” Shane whimpered.

“Please what?”

“Please. Please fuck me.”

“Condom?” Ilya asked. Shane pulled away to reach into his bedside drawer, retrieving a blue wrapper. Ilya tore the package swiftly, and handed it back to Shane, knowing he'd hate to roll over the plastic.

“Haven't gotten my second test yet,” Shane said, as if it was an explanation. Ilya stopped rolling on the condom to raise an eyebrow.

“Second?”

“Yeah, between partners I like to get two tests done, and I didn't think that this would happen, so I didn't schedule-”

“Why are you testing yourself twice?” Ilya interrupted. Shane looked at Ilya as if he was crazy.

“What if there's a problem with the first one?”

Ilya shook his head. “I am so in love with you.” Shane rolled his eyes.

“Don't make fun of me.”

“I'm not! It is a very Shane thing to do, and it made me happy.” Ilya kissed Shane's forehead, then finished rolling on the condom and lay back against the pillows. In reality, he was happy for the barrier; it would probably help him last longer. Shane looked incredible, kissing and touching him was already madness. Anything to help Ilya last and please Shane longer was welcome.

Shane leaned in to kiss him, slowly draping himself over Ilya's body. Their cocks rubbed together, a phenomenal friction, as Shane settled into fully straddling Ilya.

“Okay?” Shane asked. Ilya reached up to grip his hand in the hair at the base of Shane's neck.

“God yes.” Shane took a deep breath, sitting straight as possible, and lifting himself with his hands. Then, he began sinking onto Ilya's cock.

Ilya let out a mix of Russian and English that was incomprehensible. He knew “fuck”, “holy”, and “yes” had all made appearances in some language at some point. The warmth and pressure surrounding his length was unlike anything he had ever felt. Ilya opened his eyes to see Shane gripping the headboard with his right hand, playing his left hand on the center of Ilya's chest.

Shane began with slow rolls of his hips. Ilya's hands flew to his waist, moving in tandem with him. Ilya bent his knee, placing his foot flat against the mattress for a sharper angle. Shane moaned, moving faster, starting to bounce. His head fell back in pleasure, but the bouncing didn’t slow. Ilya pulled and pushed with his hands, sure he was leaving marks on Shane’s waist. His middle fingers fell into the divots of Shane’s back, the ones he had pretended not to stare at when they shared a locker room.

“Fuck yes,” Ilya groaned. “You feel so fucking good.” He snapped his hips up into Shane, who let out an honest to god wail. Ilya’s jaw dropped. He pulled Shane to his chest and rolled them over. Ilya placed his hands to bracket either side of Shane’s face. Shane looked up at him hungrily, grabbing his neck and pulling him into a filthy kiss. Spit and sweat was everywhere, and if Ilya didn’t have an evolutionary need to breathe, he would have stayed in that moment forever. He pulled back, letting his forehead rest on Shane’s collarbone. He could feel the deep pants reverberating through Shane as he also struggled to catch his breath. Once his lungs were functional, he moved down Shane’s body. Shane let out a gasp at the sudden emptiness, but Ilya didn’t let him suffer for long. He licked the underside of Shane’s cock, tasting the salt of his precome that was practically dripping off.

“You taste so fucking good,” Ilya said, head level with Shane’s abdomen. Shane could only moan. Ilya kissed his hip. “You look good, you taste good, you feel good, you’re a fucking miracle.” He wrapped his lips around Shane’s length again and bobbed his head a few times. Not enough to fully get him off, but enough to make sure that Shane had felt fully worshipped before Ilya re-enters his new favorite place on earth. He kissed up Shane’s chest before lining himself up with Shane’s entrance. He slowly pushed in again, realizing that from this position, Shane could take him so much deeper. He was fully sheathed when he realized that Shane was trembling.

“Is okay?” Ilya asked. Shane nodded quickly, lacing his fingers behind Ilya's neck. He pulled Ilya closer to him. Ilya lay kisses across his cheeks, then dragged his hips back before thrusting back in.

“Yes,” Shane breathed. Ilya kissed his collarbone, then his chest, before pulling away so he could start a steady rhythm. Shane wrapped his thighs around Ilya, gasping and moaning. One of Shane's arms fell to the mattress while the other clung to Ilya like a life raft in a storm. He felt Shane's fingernails dig into his shoulder, but it only pushed Ilya to drive in harder. Shane started letting out little “ah”s in response to each thrust. His hole clenched around Ilya, causing a new sensation of pleasure straight from his spine.

“Fuck, I love you,” Ilya choked out. He wrapped his fingers around Shane’s dick, stroking furiously while he felt the rhythm of his hips falter. Shane took over stroking himself, letting Ilya put all of his energy into fucking into Shane. The two of them panted together, moving as one, until the orgasm finally hit Ilya. He saw stars. His limbs were jelly, he was about to collapse, but he watched Shane give himself only a few more strokes.

“Fuck, I love you too,” Shane groaned, and he was finishing into his hand. Ilya fell to Shane’s side. Their chests heaved in time with each other. For a few moments, they just caught their breath, enjoying the closeness. Then, Shane kissed Ilya’s temple before pushing himself off the bed. Ilya opened his mouth to protest, but Shane had only gotten up to grab his towel from his shower. He wiped himself clean before walking back over and standing next to Ilya expectantly. Ilya pulled off the condom and tied the end, then dropped it in the small trash to the side of the bed. He held out his hand for the towel, but Shane began wiping Ilya himself. It was so soft and delicate, especially since Ilya had remained cleaner than Shane, that Ilya had to look away from the sight. After so many years of holding back, Ilya didn’t know if he was prepared for what it meant to be fully loved by Shane Hollander.

Eventually, Shane determined they were clean enough, tossed the towel into his hamper, and crawled into bed next to Ilya. Ilya ran his fingers through his soft black hair, and Shane let out a sigh of contentment. A mischievous sparkle hit Shane’s eyes.

“You said when we weren't hard anymore you were going to tell me about how in love with me you are,” Shane smirked.

“Is this your pillow talk? I had no idea you were so self-obsessed.” Shane flicked Ilya’s forehead, but he was smiling. Ilya peppered kisses across his cheeks. He wanted to make sure that every one of Shane’s freckles got attention. When he was satisfied, he pulled back to rest his head on the pillow next to Shane, who was staring at him.

“What is it?” Ilya asked softly.

“Um, it’s okay if it was the heat of the moment-” Shane started. Ilya’s heart plummeted.

“Shane, I promise I am in love with you. I have been for years.”

Shane nodded. “I believe you. It’s not that.” Ilya took his hands and kissed the knuckles, hoping to make his smile return. It did, but not as bright.

“Were you... Am I the reason you were a virgin?” he mumbled.

“Yes,” Ilya answered. He didn’t understand why Shane was stumbling around saying it.

“Ilya,” he breathed. “You could’ve been enjoying yourself all this time.”

“No, I couldn’t have, moya lyubov. It wouldn’t have been you.” Shane practically melted at that. A dopey grin spread across his face.

“I could really get used to you saying ridiculously romantic things to me.”

“As long as you know I will still be giving you shit whenever possible.”

“Well, yeah. Love isn’t going to stop you from being an asshole.” Ilya gasped in mock offense as Shane laughed at him. Ilya couldn’t hold back his own laughter for too long, and soon they were giggling in each other's arms. It was better than anything Ilya could’ve dared to hope for.

“What are we out celebrating?” Rose asked. It was a Friday night, and for once, Shane had been the one to insist that they all go out for drinks at a local bar. He had refused to say anything other than there was reason to celebrate, and that Ilya was going to meet them there. Ilya slid into the seat next to Shane.

“Hollander finally made me a man,” Ilya said happily, pressing a kiss to Shane's cheek with a loud smack. Shane blushed, eyes looking to the floor.

“We don't need to hear all that,” Hayden said, grimacing, at the same moment that JJ muttered “About fucking time.”
Jackie sighed, looking defeated. “Hayden, hand me my purse.” Hayden cocked his head.

“Are we leaving?”

“No, I owe Rose $10.” Hayden spluttered, but managed to hand Jackie her purse. Shane had gone from a gentle blush to a crimson. Rose smirked, tucking her prize cash into her bra.

“You knew?” Ilya asked, unsure who he was addressing. Jackie looked at him with pity.

“Sweetie, everyone knew. I just thought it’d take another year or two for one of you to say something.”

“And I bet that you’d get together before either of you was 25,” Rose said happily. “A round on me, everyone?”

“What, are you going to buy a single drink that we all sip?” Shane asked, starting to get over his embarrassment.

“I didn’t know,” Hayden muttered, lagging behind in the conversation, as per usual.

“Then it’s a miracle you have Jackie,” said JJ. “You might legally be blind.” Hayden started to chirp back, but Ilya had stopped listening. He was too busy taking in Shane. The way the light of the bar made his skin glow. How the plain tee shirt he wore fell over his chest and showed off his well-defined pecs. How his fingers interlaced over his glass of ginger ale.

Shane looked up from his ginger ale to lock eyes with Ilya, a smirk on his face. As if to say “caught you staring”. Ilya smiled back, hoping to communicate “of course I’m staring”. Shane gave a little shake of his head, signifying they were being ridiculous. Which, Ilya supposed, they were. But after years of averting his eyes, he wanted to spend every free moment sharing at Shane Hollander. Especially moments where it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

“That, Hayden!” Rose snapped loudly, pulling Ilya out of his trance. She gestured between Shane and Ilya. “You’re telling me you never noticed THAT?”