Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories:

F/M, M/M, Multi

Fandoms:

Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid

Relationships:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander/Rose Landry/Ilya Rozanov, Rose Landry/Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander & Rose Landry, Rose Landry & Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Rose Landry

Additional Tags:

Threesome - F/M/M, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Ilya Rozanov Loves Shane Hollander, Shane Hollander Loves Ilya Rozanov, Autistic Shane Hollander, Jealous Ilya Rozanov, Male-Female Friendship, Friendship, Bisexual Ilya Rozanov, Chaotic Bisexual Ilya Rozanov, Gay Shane Hollander, Shane Hollander & Rose Landry Friendship, Past Shane Hollander/Rose Landry, Rose Landry and Ilya Rozanov Meet, Rose Landry & Ilya Rozanov Friendship

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-04-02 Words: 7,674 Chapters: 1/1

but I bet we’d have really good bed chem

Summary

They break apart after a few seconds, both turning to look at Ilya.

“Happy?” Shane asks and Ilya stares at him and then – laughs. A full-belly laugh, with a slightly hysterical edge to it. The sheer relief on Ilya’s face makes something in Shane’s chest come loose.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. This was – you kiss like twelve-year-olds!”

Rose snorts and presses her face into Shane’s shoulder, shaking with laughter, too. “You see the problem, yeah?”

-
Ilya makes a new friend and has the most bisexual day of his life, not necessarily in that order.

Notes

Rose is at the cottage for the week – Shane, young and naïve and full of hope as he was when he invited her, had expected this to be a good thing. It is not.

Which isn’t to say that having Rose around isn’t wonderful. They barely ever get to see each other and she’s so easy to be with that Shane feels like he can physically breathe a bit easier when she’s in the room.

Rose inhabits any place she exists in as if she belongs there, simple as anything. She gets herself drinks from the fridge without asking, she wanders around the garden and goes for a swim, or reads her book on the couch, ignoring everyone for a couple of hours. If she needs anything, she will just ask, which Shane likes. He doesn’t have to actively host her; they just hang out. She puts her head on Shane’s shoulder when they all watch a movie together at night, and he likes that too. How she touches him so easily, almost like he’s an extension of herself, like it’s all very simple.

Shane feels calm when Rose is around. And now, having both her and Ilya here, it’s like something slots into place in his chest. The collection of his favorite people – of people that don’t smother him, that don’t make him feel like he can’t breathe when they’re in his space, that he doesn’t have to perform for – expanding. He likes it a lot.

Ilya doesn’t. He didn’t say a word when Shane first told him that Rose would come visit. Belatedly, it occurs to Shane that maybe he could have asked, rather than just told him. It’s his house, yes, but they’re here together. Everything is also a little bit Ilya’s now, probably. Which is great, and he very much wants it that way. He shares easily with Ilya, wants him to be part of his life in every way. But he doesn’t always immediately think of it. Asking. Taking someone else into account. He’s never had to, before. And it’s a privilege, obviously, but also – it’s an adjustment.

Anyway, Ilya is not happy. He’s very uncharacteristically quiet, and Shane can tell that that’s only because he’s holding his tongue for once (for Shane’s sake). He probably wants to be antagonizing Rose the same way he always does Hayden.

It’s not like Rose is taking any of their time together away from them. Ilya still fucks Shane through the mattress every night, or even grabs him mid-conversation and drags him off to the bedroom for a blowjob at random times of day. It’s rude, but Rose takes it in stride, whoops and hollers at Shane a little bit and then puts her noise-cancelling headphones on or goes out to the lake. She’s happy for them. She’d be a great friend for Ilya, too, if only – if only.

---

It all comes to a head one evening, three days in. Rose makes the mistake to sit between them on the couch (to be fair, she was there first and Ilya chose that other spot, but – whatever). She leans into Shane’s side and Ilya shoots them both a death glare.

“Okay, that’s it,” Rose says and turns to Ilya. “What’s your problem?”

“No problem,” Ilya says in the most aggravating way possible.

“Really?”

“No. You – have fun. Visit. Talk. Cuddle. Whatever you want. Is your house, no? Is your Shane.”

“Jesus, Ilya,” Shane sighs. He thought they’d resolved this whole thing ages ago. There’s no reason for Ilya to be jealous, he’s gay, Rose is a friend…they’ve done this a hundred times. But, except for Shane’s parents, Ilya doesn’t seem to like anyone who gets even a smidge of Shane’s attention. Not Hayden, not Rose.

“Wow,” Rose says and tilts her head, looking at Ilya like he’s a specimen she’s studying in a lab. “I had no idea you were so insecure. Fuck.”

Iya scoffs and plays with the loose threads on the blanket he’s holding in his lap. Shane thinks that Rose should maybe not be pushing the issue, but she’s fierce and brave and of course she’s not scared of Ilya. She probably sees right through whatever act he’s got going on.

“Is he not allowed to have friends then?” she asks and Ilya repeats the word “friends” under his breath like it has personally offended him.

“Yes, friends, Ilya,” Shane says. Like your friend Svetlana, he doesn’t say. Your friend that you’ve known all your life and fucked a hundred times and were maybe going to marry, because your sexualities actually match, that I don’t say a word about because I believe you when you say that’s all there is.

“I see,” Rose says. She looks back at Shane, her lips pursed, her eyes calculating, and asks, “can I do something really weird?”

“Sure.” He shrugs. Weird would be an improvement to the situation at this point.

Rose pushes up to her knees and turns to Ilya again. She puts one hand on his shoulder and then swings a leg over him, straddling him face-to-face. Ilya doesn’t stop her, but makes a somewhat distressed sound in his throat.

It is – highly confusing.

“You’re bi, right?” Rose asks and Shane draws in a breath. When she said something really weird –

“Yes,” Ilya says carefully. Shane can see the way he looks at her though, like he’s almost forgotten a little bit that he likes women after being with Shane for so long, and she’s just reminded him. Shane has no idea if that’s how being bisexual actually works, but the way Ilya’s eyes darken and trail from her face down over her chest, then back up – he knows that look intimately.

“And you don’t like that I fucked Shane.”

That’s – a bit of an overstatement if she’s trying to describe the disastrous attempts at sex they shared a long time ago, but Shane can recognize that she’s – well, acting a little bit.

Ilya makes a strangled sound in his throat. He’s still not touching her at all.

“I don’t,” he finally says.

“Would it help if we evened the playing field?”

“Jesus Christ,” Shane says again. This is – surely this is wrong somehow. He knows it must be wrong, he just – he just isn’t sure why. And the way he feels seeing them like this isn’t – it doesn’t –

“Shane?” Rose asks gently, interrupting his frantic thoughts.

“Yeah,” he croaks, his throat tight and dry. “Yeah, no. That’s – I mean, maybe?”

“Maybe?” Ilya repeats and Shane can feel the room closing in on him. That doesn’t usually happen here. It’s safe here, the cottage is safe. Ilya is safe and Rose is safe and what are they doing? What does Ilya want him to say? Does he want Shane to be jealous? He could be, he should be, but he’s not – Rose is a friend. He loves Rose. He loves Ilya. If they want to have sex, they should. If it helps Ilya feel better, they should. If it makes Ilya stop being an asshole to Rose. They should.

He presses his hands to his face, feeling hot and shaky and too big for his body, like it’s stretching too tightly around him.

“Shane.” That’s Ilya’s voice close to his ear, his hands on Shane’s chest and shoulders, gentle with him. He blinks his eyes open to see Ilya now kneeling on the floor in front of him. Rose is standing behind him, a hand on Ilya’s back.

“Sorry,” she says quietly. “That was – too much. I’m sorry, Shane.”

“No,” Shane replies. “No, you – I think that’s good. A good idea.”

“A good idea but you’re having a panic attack?” Ilya asks and Shane shakes his head. He’s not. It was just unexpected. And he didn’t know what to do, what Ilya wanted him to do. It’s easier when he knows, and then he can decide, and most of the time decide against it, and argue with him and that’s normal, but this is – too many unknown variables.

“You don’t – you never want to talk about her,” he tells Ilya softly. “I want you to get along.”

“I mean, there are other ways to get along, I just kinda –” Rose still looks a bit unsure, her earlier bravado a little muted. She’s not really used to him like this, Shane realizes. Doesn’t know what’s serious and what’s just…needing a minute. And he’s had that minute now.

“Not for Ilya,” Shane says with a small smile and Ilya rolls his eyes, but smiles back. He gives Shane’s shoulder a little shove and Shane shoves him back. “Come on. Go be friends.”

“What, and you’ll just wait here and watch Netflix?” Rose asks and Shane shrugs. Maybe?

“No.” Ilya grabs both of Shane’s hands, pulling him to his feet. “You are coming.”

“Ha,” Rose says, newly invigorated, and smacks Shane’s ass, because she loves him and has no shame. “You hear that? Your man’s gonna take care of you.”

---

They make it to the bedroom, Ilya and Rose still carefully not touching, sitting on the bed with Shane in the middle, but – they’re talking. Which seems to be a big step forward.

“I take it this isn’t your first threesome, Ilya?” Rose asks and Ilya shrugs.

“First gay one.”

“Really?” Rose sounds surprised and Shane does and does not want to hear more about that. He doesn’t want to know, but he needs to know.

“Never with another guy?” he asks and Ilya gives him that vaguely constipated look that means he’s very uncomfortable.

“Yes, but. Straight guy.”

“Who?”

“Uh,” Ilya says.

Shane exchanges a look with Rose and then repeats more sternly, “who?”.

“Marleau?”

It sounds like a question and Shane feels like his entire field of vision is painted red for a second.

“Marleau?” he repeats.

“Long time ago, there was a girl, she couldn’t decide – eh. You know.” No, Shane knows absolutely nothing about any of that. “But nothing gay.”

“Okay, I know who Marleau is,” Rose says, “and – yeah. Yep. Good for her.”

“Right,” Shane says, ready to do literally anything to stop thinking about Ilya and Cliff Marleau and a girl who couldn’t decide between the two. He tries to focus on Ilya, here and now but he’s suddenly not sure why he’s here, if Ilya and Rose – but, well, why was Marleau there if – okay. Maybe. Maybe he gets it.

“Nothing nothing, with Marleau?” he asks, just to make sure, and Ilya nods eagerly.

“Nothing.”

And if he wants nothing with Rose – 

She leans into his side and strokes a hand through his hair. It feels nice. Familiar.

“Nothing you don’t want.” She also seems to understand his question.

“But,” Ilya starts, his hand on Shane’s knee. “If you do want.”

What? If he wants what?

“Oh what, you’re really so insecure you want to see with your own eyes he’s not attracted to me?” Rose sighs, sounding incredulous.

“I don’t know.” Ilya seems stressed and gestures to Rose. “Look at you.”

“What are you saying, Ilya?” Shane asks.

“I think he’s trying to say I’m so hot I could turn you.” She rolls her eyes. “I mean, several gay ex-boyfriends disagree at this point, but thanks, I guess.”

“That’s not how it works,” Shane says a little sourly. He used to wish it did. Back then, with Rose. But not anymore.

He looks at Ilya and feels all soft inside suddenly. Sure, the whole thing may be stupid to begin with, but of course he doesn’t want him to worry. There’s nothing to worry about, but if he’d known it was more than just petty possessiveness, more than some juvenile need to be Shane’s center of attention at all times, maybe he would have tried to be a bit more understanding about it.

“Hey,” Shane says quietly and pulls Ilya close, foreheads pressed together, fingers buried in his curls. “I want no one but you, okay?”

“Yes,” Ilya replies, sweet like he only ever is with Shane. He kisses him, both hands coming up to hold Shane’s face, thumb stroking his cheek. It’s oddly chaste, for what they were just talking about, for what they’re about to – what are they about to do?

“I still want to see,” Ilya says and Shane sighs.

“What do you want to see?”

“Can you – kiss?”

Well. That sounds okay. Shane looks back at Rose and she shrugs. “I’m good if you are.”

“If it makes you feel better,” Shane says. He kisses Ilya again first. Reassurance. A claim.

Rose puts an arm around his shoulders and ruffles his hair like he’s a child.

“For old time’s sake, huh?”

He’s still smiling when she kisses him. It’s – nice. He doesn’t mind it. Her mouth is so much smaller than Ilya’s, which feels a little strange after all this time. She’s careful with him, letting him lead, not at all like she kissed him when they were together. She was a bit aggressive then, which he appreciated at the time. It made things easier.

Shane puts a hand in her hair; he’s always liked that. It smells good and the texture is soft and pleasant under his fingers. He does prefer Ilya’s curls though, they’re easier to grab and mess up and pull on. He doesn’t want to do any of that to Rose.

They break apart after a few seconds, both turning to look at Ilya.

“Happy?” Shane asks and Ilya stares at him and then – laughs. A full-belly laugh, with a slightly hysterical edge to it. The sheer relief on Ilya’s face makes something in Shane’s chest come loose.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. This was – you kiss like twelve-year-olds!”

Rose snorts and presses her face into Shane’s shoulder, shaking with laughter, too. “You see the problem, yeah?”

“Are we all just making fun of how gay I am now, or…?”

“No, no.” Ilya presses a kiss to Shane’s cheek, then his mouth. “This is great.”

“If you say so.”

“I will show you,” Ilya announces, and it’s almost ridiculous how alive he looks again; like the light in his eyes has returned in full force just because he watched Shane be bad at kissing Rose. He’s back in his element.

Ilya reaches a hand out for Rose and she looks at Shane for confirmation. “This okay?”

“Yeah. I mean. Yeah.”

She climbs over Shane’s lap, one more quick kiss to his lips, friendly and sweet, and then settles in front of Ilya, giving him a challenging look.

“Well?”

Ilya tilts his head, a smirk on his face. Oh, Shane knows that look. It still makes his stomach feel a little funny every time he sees it, it makes him feel like prey, and Ilya knows that very well.

Ilya doesn’t hold back with Rose. He pulls her in by the waist, his hand looking huge on her small frame, and cradles her head with the other. Burying his fingers in her hair, but not at all the same way Shane did a minute ago. And then he leans in, eyes closed, and Shane watches Rose melt against him.

Ilya is a great kisser. If Shane is being honest with himself, he knew from the first moment their lips ever touched, pressed up against the wall in his hotel room, that he would never get enough of it.

Ilya kisses Rose like that, too. Shane wonders again if he should be feeling bad about that, should be jealous, but he’s just – not. It feels like it has nothing to do with him, what’s happening with Ilya and Rose, and at the same time, has everything to do with him. They’re both here for him. Technically. Originally.

Rose is breathing heavily when they break apart, her cheeks a little pink.

“Yeah, okay, I get the hype,” she says and looks back at Shane. “Completely get it now.”

Shane huffs out a little laugh. “Okay?”

“That’s how you kiss a woman,” Ilya says unnecessarily and Shane shakes his head. Fine. Let Ilya have his fun if he’s finally found something he’s better at than Shane. (Because they both know it’s not hockey.)

“I feel like we didn’t really give our best performance earlier,” Rose tells Shane and he shrugs. Let her have her fun, too.

She crawls back into Shane’s lap, Ilya up on his knees behind her. He pushes her hair out of the way and ghosts his lips up the side of her neck, making her shiver, keeping his eyes locked on Shane’s the whole time.

“Kiss him again,” Ilya says. He does love giving directions.

Rose catches Shane’s eyes, quickly checking in and he gives her a small nod. He looks at Ilya over her shoulder and only closes his eyes when their lips meet.

Rose is more forceful this time, more like Shane remembers. He can feel Ilya’s hair tickling his face with all three of them pressed close like this and reaches around Rose’s body until his hand finds Ilya’s waist, fingers twisting into his shirt. It’s weird, feeling Ilya like this and kissing Rose at the same time, listening to both of their breathing, Ilya’s familiar scent mixing with Rose’s perfume.

She pulls away with a giggle, and Shane sees that Ilya has one hand under her shirt, traveling up her stomach. Yes, she’s ticklish. Shane remembers.

“Much better,” Ilya comments. He looks straight at Shane and licks up Rose’s neck, curling his tongue behind her ear.

Shane watches Ilya’s fingers under her shirt slide up until he’s almost touching her breasts.

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” Rose says, sounding sure and steady. She reaches down to take her shirt off but Ilya catches her hands, fingers wrapping around her wrists.

“Shane,” he says and – okay, maybe they’re all just playing out Ilya’s little bisexual fantasies now. Maybe Shane doesn’t mind all that much. Not with Rose. Shane carefully pulls her shirt over her head and puts it aside.

Ilya’s hands are all over her, cupping her breasts through her bra and Rose leans back against him, arching into the touch.

“Did he ever make you come?” he whispers to her, challenge in his eyes that are still locked on Shane’s, and Shane huffs.

“I know how to do that,” he replies, a little annoyed, a little petulant, at the same time that Rose says “yes”.

“Huh,” Ilya says.

Like he doesn’t know. Like he can’t imagine that Shane catalogued every bit of straight boy locker room talk just in case (though there was rarely any good advice in there), googled the hell out of it, because that was safe, wasn’t it? That was what he was supposed to want, to do, to be good at. And so, yeah. He knows the mechanics, the anatomy, he knows how to move his fingers right. It was kind of like kissing Rose – he didn’t mind it. It didn’t do anything for him; it was kind of weirdly slippery, like using too much lube by accident. But the effect it had on her was kind of fun (or would have been if he’d been able to relax at all) and feeling connected was nice. Having a task with a clear goal was great; something he didn’t have to be into, didn’t have to be hard for, something he could pretend for and almost make himself believe.

But he doesn’t have to do any of that anymore.

He watches Ilya unclasp Rose’s bra behind her back and then pull it off in what looks like a well-practiced move. Ilya holds her breasts in both hands and brushes his thumbs over her nipples, teasing them into hard little peaks of dusty pink. Shane kind of wants to remind him to be gentle, because he can’t just squeeze a girl’s breasts the same way he does Shane’s pecs, but – Ilya probably knows that better than anyone. And he is being gentle anyway, Rose sighing softly and tipping her head back against his collarbone.

It could be kind of weird, the way she’s still technically in Shane’s lap, pressed between them, but she doesn’t seem to mind it. Shane focuses on Ilya’s hands, his face, his breath. He can tell how turned on Ilya is by it all; Rose, him, the entire situation. Shane can’t help but think about whether or not he’s hard yet, whether Rose can feel him, pressing into her back. Whether she likes that as much as Shane does.

“Did he get you off like this?” Ilya asks Rose, still looking at Shane, while he moves one hand down, slipping under the waistband of the blue and pink pajama bottoms she’s wearing, easy as anything. Shane can see his fingers move underneath the fabric and Rose shudders, goosebumps spreading over her skin.

“Yes,” she says again, inhaling sharply.

“Did he get you wet like this?”

It’s barely a whisper, right by Rose’s ear, and Shane can’t help the little noise that makes its way out of his throat. Ilya is still looking right at him, so sure of himself like this, so in control. Shane licks his lips, staring back at him, and then he gets distracted by Ilya’s hand inside Rose’s pants again. They’re pressed so close that Shane could feel his knuckles move against his stomach if he just leaned in a little more.

“Yeah,” Rose replies, and she seems – she’s not gone like Shane is with Ilya, she’s playing along but her eyes are clear, her little smile teasing. “Think you can do better?”

Which is a little ridiculous because they all know Ilya is going to be better at whatever he’s about to do to Rose. He seems to enjoy the little game though.

Ilya does something with his hand that makes her stutter out a breath, and then she laughs.

“Competitive, huh?”

“You have no idea,” Shane replies and she gives him a smile, warm and gentle, before tilting her head back again, biting at Ilya’s jaw.

“Show me.”

Ilya pulls his hand back, his fingers leaving a shiny trail of wetness on Rose’s lower belly.

“Pants off,” he says and Rose laughs again and rolls her eyes at Shane.

“Bossy.”

She scrambles off Shane’s lap to sit on the edge of the bed and get undressed. Without Rose between them, Shane gets a good look at Ilya, his eyes immediately dropping to the bulge in his shorts.

Ilya adjusts himself, clearly more for Shane’s benefit than anything, and then sucks his own fingers into his mouth, humming softly as he licks them clean. Shane very badly wants Ilya’s fingers in his mouth too. His anything in his mouth, really. His anything anywhere – well.

Ilya gives him a lazy grin and smacks his lips. “Sweet.”

He says it in that purposely slightly condescending way of his that still drives Shane crazy sometimes but also makes him hard.

“Charmer,” Rose says. She’s the only one who’s naked but seems unbothered by that, kneeling on the bed next to Ilya. “Are you gonna eat me out?”

“Yes,” Ilya replies. He looks between her and Shane, considering.

“Shane, sit here.” He motions to the headboard and Shane does as he’s told. Ilya follows and straddles him, then kisses Shane with so much heat it makes him whimper into it. He thrusts his hips up, by far not enough friction against Ilya’s cock to do much for anyone, but it feels amazing, the way it sends a sharp spike of arousal through him.

It also feels a little insane to be doing this in front of Rose, in a reckless, dangerous way that is incredibly hot to Shane. They always hide so much, but this – they can do this, with her, because she knows and Shane trusts her.

He chases Ilya’s mouth when he pulls away, his whole body lit up with how much he wants him. Ilya moves back slowly, his hands trailing down Shane’s thighs and spreading them wide. Shane makes a needy little noise. He knows Ilya isn’t going to give him what he wants right now, but…

“Rose,” Ilya says and motions towards Shane. “Here.”

Rose is staring at Shane, her face open and warm and more than a bit fascinated. He feels like it should probably make him a little embarrassed, her seeing him like this when he never looked like that for her, but – obvious reasons.

“Okay?” Rose asks, a cautious hand on Shane’s knee. He just nods. He doesn’t need to think about it; Ilya set this up and he’s not doing anything wrong if he just follows the plan. It’s okay. He doesn’t need to worry about it. They’re safe.

Rose settles between his splayed legs, back against his chest, and slides down a little until she’s half lying back against him. She stretches one leg out to press her foot up against Ilya’s chest, giving him a little nudge.

“Take your shirt off at least, give us a view. Shane and I expect some quality entertainment tonight.”

She cuddles back against him a little bit, as if everything’s just normal, like they’re still sitting on the couch together. Like she isn’t naked, like she isn’t feeling how hard Shane is, pressing into her back. He feels like he should be mortified, but at the same time, he wants her to know, to really understand. She’s a witness now, to what being with Ilya does to him, to what they have.  

Ilya pulls his shirt over his head and throws it aside, then takes off his shorts and boxers too and kneels on the bed in front of them, hard and flushed and completely confident. He’s palming his cock, just a loose touch. Showing off. Shane can practically feel his mouth water.

“Entertained?” he drawls and Rose gives him a thumbs up, then turns her head half back to look at Shane.

“Really? That – really? Is that safe?”

Shane huffs out a laugh and watches Ilya preen.

“Yeah, it’s fine.” He kind of likes this, too. Rose being impressed with him, with how much he can take. Part of him wants to show her, show off for her, but that’s probably a little much.

Ilya gets down on his hands and knees in front of them, eyes traveling up Rose’s long legs.

“Spread,” he says slowly, like he’s enjoying the word in his mouth. His eyes on her, but it’s Shane who shudders.

He’s still kind of waiting for it to stop, or at least become less intense over time, this visceral reaction he has to Ilya. How he can never get enough of him, no matter how much sex they have. There’s always a part of Shane that wants more, that pushes and demands and craves Ilya like he needs him to breathe.

Rose sinks down a little more and stretches her legs out, hooking her feet over Shane’s ankles. He looks up at Ilya and moves both feet out a little bit. It opens her legs wider, too.

Here, Shane thinks. Look. For you.

Ilya gets it. He makes a noise like he’s been starving for hours and just arrived at a five-star buffet.

“So pretty for me,” he whispers, leaning down to plant kisses on the inside of Rose’s thigh. “So pretty together.”

“We’ve been pretty together all along, you were just too busy being a jealous asshole to appreciate it,” Rose says evenly.

But her body is telling a different story than her voice; Rose is squirming, impatient, and Shane feels her leg twitch against his. He reaches around her again, his wrist on top of her thigh and his hand in Ilya’s hair. He tugs on it a little bit, come on, but Ilya just makes an indignant sound at Rose’s remark and doesn’t let himself be rushed at all.

He licks and sucks at her skin, his hands all over Shane’s thighs where they’re bracketing Rose’s body. Shane feels tight with anticipation, and when Ilya finally buries his face between her legs, Shane and Rose both make almost the same needy sound. He would swear he can feel it through her body somehow.

Shane keeps tugging on Ilya’s hair, his fingers gripping him tight and pulling his head closer into Rose.

“Oh fuck,” Rose breathes, her legs flexing over Shane’s, her head dropped back against his chest. “Oh, he’s – okay. Jesus.”

And for all the effort Shane put into learning how to get a girl off, he’s never actually done this. It didn’t seem like something he could go through the motions for and just pretend to like it. There has to be at least a certain amount of natural enthusiasm for giving head that he didn’t quite trust himself to fake.

Ilya doesn’t need to fake anything, the familiar sounds in his throat a sexy symphony to Shane’s ears. Ilya visibly fucking loves it, and he pulls back a little to lick all over Rose, then goes back to pushing his entire face into her, and Shane imagines Ilya’s tongue pushing in, licking into her the same way he does for Shane.

It doesn’t look sloppy, the way Ilya eats her out; it seems more like a precisely executed attack, how he has her moaning and straining against his mouth pretty much immediately. Her fingers dig into Shane’s thighs and the way she arches her back and pushes her hips into Ilya’s face more have Shane so fucking hard in sympathy, because he knows – he knows.

Rose makes a throaty little sound and her breathing speeds up, chest heaving. She’s kicking her feet out and tensing up against Shane and then he feels it, right along with her. Rose’s little cries and Ilya’s muffled groans fill the room and Shane pulls him in even harder by his hair, holding him in place the same way he does when he’s coming down his throat.

“Fuck, oh my God.” Rose shivers and then her body goes lax, slumping back against Shane. He presses a kiss to the top of her head and relaxes his fingers in Ilya’s hair, a firm hold turning into a caress.

Ilya turns his head so he can kiss the inside of Shane’s palm, then licks over the pulse point on his wrist. Ilya’s mouth is wet against Shane’s skin, maybe his whole face. Would it be weird if Shane wanted to kiss him like this? Lick him clean until there’s nothing left, like Ilya sometimes does for him after he comes all over his face?

Ilya goes ahead and makes that decision for everyone, getting up on his knees between their spread legs and kissing first Rose, then Shane. He tastes a little salty-sweet in a way that Shane doesn’t find unpleasant at all. He lets Ilya lick into his mouth, their tongues sliding together hot and wet and familiar, and Shane needs him so badly it makes his teeth hurt.

Ilya nudges their noses together when he pulls away, a promise for later. Shane will get what he needs. He sits back on his haunches and lets his eyes wander over Shane and Rose, looking hungry.

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

Though he knows the question is directed at Rose, Shane can’t stop the soft sound that makes it out of his throat.

Rose hums thoughtfully and gets up onto her knees, face to face with Ilya. She trails her fingers down Ilya’s chest, over his abs, and then stops.

“You know,” she says and then wraps her fingers around his cock, making both Shane and Ilya draw in a sharp breath at the same time. “I would. But…”

She starts pumping him slowly, more of a tease than anything else. Shane watches her hand slide up and down Ilya’s cock, looking so different than the view he’s used to when he touches Ilya, or watches him get himself off.

“I think there’s someone else who wants it a lot more,” she stage-whispers and looks back over her shoulder at Shane.

And God yeah, he wants it. He’s not sure he could watch Ilya fuck Rose without losing his mind at this point. Not because he doesn’t want them to, but – he feels so open and needy it’s like he’s hollow inside, like there’s going to be nothing left of him soon unless Ilya fills him back up.

Ilya groans when Shane sidles up to Rose and then wraps a hand around him too, his fingers slotting into the spaces between Rose’s. They find a rhythm together, Shane leading just how he knows Ilya likes.

“Oh fuck,” Ilya breathes, staring at their joined hands on his cock, and Shane can’t stop himself then, he has to kiss him again, has to feel more of him to try and fill that gaping space inside himself, like a black hole that needs feeding with Ilya’s attention.

Ilya tugs on Shane’s shirt, and it’s all a bit of an uncoordinated mess from there on out, but he manages to take his clothes off and eventually, they end up pressed together in a mess of limbs, all of them up on their knees. Shane and Ilya with one arm around Rose each, kissing each other almost violently, and Ilya’s other hand slipping between Shane’s legs, fingers now lube-slicked and pushing into him.

He’s doesn’t need much, they just had sex this morning and Shane is impatient now that he knows Ilya is going to fuck him, the anticipation a delicious heat in his gut.

“Can I…?” Ilya is looking at Rose, his free hand trailing down her side.

“Oh, knock yourself out, you pervert.”

Shane doesn’t know exactly what Ilya is asking her until…oh. She sighs when he slides two fingers into her, too, his thumb pressing against her clit from the outside.

“Oh my God,” Ilya mutters under his breath, his eyes flicking back and forth between his hands, to where he’s now fingering both of them at the same time while they still slowly jerk him off together. He looks stunned, absolutely enraptured by it all, and as much as Shane loves Ilya in complete control, he also loves him exactly like this, loves to knock him just a little off balance with new things they try. Rose is an excellent partner in crime for that, as it turns out.

“Got your hands full there, babe?” She sounds a little breathless and Shane can relate. Ilya is curling his fingers inside him just right, and he has great hands for this, big, long fingers. Shane presses closer to him again, dragging open-mouthed kisses up his neck, licking the sweat off his skin.

He sees Rose follow his lead and do the same on Ilya’s other side and Ilya is cursing and panting between them. All the angles are a little off, their arms crossing over each other and wrists bending into directions they shouldn’t technically be going for any length of time, but – it works, somehow it works.

It doesn’t take long for Rose to start making high breathy noises again, her face pressed into Ilya’s shoulder and the rhythm of her hand faltering as her body tenses against both of them.

Ilya is talking into her hair softly, filth and praise and encouragement, “come for us” and “let me feel you” and “you’re beautiful”; some of it the same things he likes to say to Shane, and it makes him smile.

Rose drops her hand off Ilya altogether when she comes, breathing hard and fast and letting them both hold up her body, the curve of her back supported by Shane’s arm around her waist, her trembling legs only holding her up with Ilya’s help.

Shane watches Ilya’s thumb draw little circles against her, slowing, softening as he takes her through it, wrings out every bit of pleasure he can give her.

Rose blows out a long breath when she stops shaking, her body hot and boneless as she leans into Shane’s side. She looks flushed and satisfied, her cheeks a very healthy shade of pink.

“Good?” Ilya asks, and he makes it sound a little sarcastic, but Shane knows how eager to please Ilya is, how much he cares that it really was good for Rose.

“Psh,” she says and smacks her hand against Ilya’s side tiredly. “You know it was.”

She turns her head to look up at Shane, her eyes bright and soft.

“I think I’m done here though.”

It’s one of those moments where Shane doesn’t really know how to feel, and maybe he’ll understand it tomorrow after his brain has chewed on it a little bit, or maybe he never will.

He knows she’s probably right though. As much as the thought of it excites him, having someone watching – it’s one of those things that might be better in his head than in reality. And if Rose feels like they have pushed as far as they should for now, without even really talking about it, without anything, he’s ready to follow her lead.

“You’re sure?” Ilya asks and Rose nods. She presses a kiss to Shane’s temple and then to Ilya’s lips, and of course he doesn’t let her get away so easily, pushing his tongue into her mouth until she’s moaning again and she breaks away with a laugh.

“You are too much fun, Ilya Rozanov. You actually are.”

“I do not know what that means,” Ilya replies with a grin and Rose climbs off the bed, looking around for the nearest piece of clothing she can put on. Shane’s shirt it is.

“Fuck his brains out, he deserves it,” she tells Ilya and then disappears out the bedroom door with a silly little wave.

“You think she is right?” Ilya asks, his eyes and now his full attention back on Shane, a smile tugging at his lips. “Is that what you deserve?”

“Oh yeah,” Shane says.

There’s a charged moment between them, electricity practically crackling, and then Ilya pushes him down onto his back, hands all over him as he gets on top of Shane.

His fingers are sticky and Shane spares a very brief thought to the tissue box on the bedside table that he’s been trying to teach Ilya to use for exactly this purpose. Maybe one day.

“And you have been good to deserve it?” Ilya’s hot breath on his skin makes Shane shiver as much as his words, and any hygiene concerns are quickly forgotten.

“I’m always good,” Shane says with a little smile and the way Ilya kisses him the is more of an attack than anything else. Shane pants into it, giving as good as he gets, his hands in Ilya’s hair, all over his back and shoulders, pulling at him, fingers squeezing into skin and muscle.

He wants it rough, and he wants Ilya to hold back absolutely nothing. Ilya was gentle with Rose, intense but careful, and Shane wants the opposite.

He also wants to ask him about it, about so many things, now that he’s actually seen Ilya with a woman, and it wasn’t weird and it didn’t make him jealous. It just made him curious. Does Ilya like it, being so much stronger than a partner in bed? Is he less dominant than he gets with Shane because they’re so physically different? Does he like the softness of her, how wet she gets and how it feels against his mouth? Would he have fucked her the same way he fucks Shane, or would it have been different?

And has Ilya ever felt about someone the way Shane feels about Rose, like he could look at her all the time because she is so beautiful, but it doesn’t excite him? Like holding her and touching her makes him feel so warm and good, but all he wants to do with her is stroke her hair and feel her body breathe in his arms?

But Ilya doesn’t always like analyzing things the way Shane does, his pursuit of knowledge about what he likes and what he doesn’t usually a lot more hands-on. And he doesn’t question the results. He also doesn’t question Shane, always game to try everything Shane comes up with.

And now, he’s giving Shane exactly what he wants.

The pent-up energy of the night is released into filthy kisses and urgent touches, it’s in the curve of Shane’s throat when he throws his head back as Ilya pushes into him, in the way Ilya scrapes his teeth over Shane’s skin and curses in Russian.

Shane lets it overwhelm him. It’s like he’s feeding off Ilya’s energy, hungry for it, impossible to satisfy unless he gets all of him.

And Ilya gives it. He digs his fingers into Shane’s skin hard enough to bruise, driving into him hard and deep right away, pounding his hips into Shane because he knows Shane can take it, wants it, craves it, needs it just like this. Needs to be pinned in place, folded in half, pushed, taken out of his head and into his body.

And whatever it does to Shane, it does to Ilya, too. He looks dazed, punch-drunk, like he’s high on the moment.

“Knees,” Ilya says harshly, pulling out of Shane and tapping his open palm against Shane’s hip. Not quite a spank, but – that comes when he’s on his hands and knees in front of Ilya a moment later, loud in the silence of the room. Delicious pain blooms sharp and hot under Shane’s skin and the sound that comes out of his throat sounds shocked even though he’s not, even though this is exactly what he wants.

He pushes back against Ilya, demanding more with his body, and Ilya sinks back into him. They both like to finish like this; Ilya can go a little harder for the last bit and Shane can let it knock the breath out of him, a little like an exorcism, everything out, out, out, and nothing but Ilya inside him, and the greedy, gaping black hole in his chest finally satisfied. For the moment.

Shane can feel Ilya’s grasp on him slip, slickness renewed by their combined sweat – should have used the tissues – and Ilya digs his nails into his skin instead, feeling like sharp little bites, making Shane think about how much he wants Ilya to sink his teeth into him.

A plaintive noise tears out of his throat and over the sound of his blood rushing in his ears and his heart pounding in his chest, over his own frantic breaths, he can hear Ilya, almost as if from a distance, telling him “I know” and “I love you” and cursing up a blue streak in two languages at once.

After clumsily repeating back Ilya’s love confession syllable by syllable for the first time, his tongue feeling like it was tying itself into a knot saying lyublyú, the next word that Shane had learned to say in Russian was blyat. And that’s just the duality of Ilya Rozanov.

He comes with that thought in mind, with Ilya’s voice in his ears and his hand on his cock and the relentless staccato of his hips still driving into him, until Ilya’s familiar groans turn into deep breaths and his body slows and then folds itself over Shane’s, seeking contact, seeking connection.

They fall onto their sides on the bed, only just avoiding the wet spot that Shane knows is going to bother him in about five minutes, when all the happy and horny chemicals his brain produced have been used up and it goes back to its factory setting of producing a generalized feeling of being just a little bit uncomfortable at all times.

But for now, everything is still blessedly silent in his head, and he lets himself be pulled into Ilya’s arms, his mouth seeking out Ilya’s with his eyes still closed, their bodies finding each other on autopilot like they always do.

---

“You know, I think I found the solution to my gay boyfriend problem,” Rose says thoughtfully over her coffee the next morning.

Ilya makes a questioning sound and comes to stand behind Shane, already chewing on one of the protein pancakes he’s supposed to be making for everyone.

“Do you know any other bi guys, Ilya?”

“What, one is not enough for you?” He gestures at himself in mock-outrage.

“You know what I mean. Maybe my type is just, like, a little on the fruity side, and I need to work with that.”

Shane wouldn’t exactly refer to himself (or Ilya) as fruity, but then he also isn’t entirely sure what it actually means. 

“We do not travel in packs, you know.”

Ilya goes back to the stove and flips the current pancake over in the pan. Maybe this one will actually make it to the breakfast table.

“Uh, you kinda do though. Outside of hockey at least.”

“I know one. He is – not single. And also old.”

Ah. Eric Bennett, Shane remembers. Ilya always meets so many people, somehow many of them gay. Or bi. It’s like he has some sort of instinct for it.

“Damn, okay. I mean, I could work with a daddy, but…”

“I would like to see that,” Ilya says, pointing the spatula at her, and Shane sighs.

“What, Rose and Bennett?” he asks very doubtfully.

“No,” Ilya says, rolling his eyes. “Rose and a daddy.” He waggles his eyebrows and Rose laughs. “Could be interesting. Even more interesting if you strap him.”

“Ooohh,” Rose says, looking intrigued. “Shane, why didn’t I think of that when we were together?” She elbows his side, making sure he knows it’s just a joke. “I mean, you did tell me –”

“No,” Shane interrupts. “No. I told you nothing.”

“What did you tell her?”

“So, when he first came out to me, he didn’t so much say he was gay. What he actually said…”

How lovely and quiet things were 24 hours ago, Shane thinks, when these two still refused to talk to each other.