Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

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

Relationship:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Scott Hunter (Game Changers), Eric Bennett, Troy Barrett, Original Male Character(s)

Additional Tags:

POV Shane Hollander, Married Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Post-Book 6: The Long Game (Game Changers), Spoilers for Book 6: The Long Game (Game Changers), Bars and Pubs, Drinking, Minor Kip Grady/Scott Hunter, Minor Troy Barrett/Harris Drover, Jealousy, Blow Jobs, Revelations, Face-Fucking, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Top Ilya Rozanov, Bottom Shane Hollander, Hotel Sex, Dirty Talk, Hair-pulling, Finger Sucking, Praise Kink, Come Marking, Past Shane Hollander/Original Male Character(s), Dom/sub Undertones, Pet Names, Coming Untouched

Language:

English

Series:

Part 1 of Anything They Can Do, I(LYA) Can Do Better

Stats:

Published: 2026-01-24 Words: 5,438 Chapters: 1/1

You Make Me Greedy

Summary

"Hi, I'm Matt," the man said. His gaze swept over the table, and when he met Shane's eyes, he winked. "Great to meet all of you. I'm a big hockey fan."

Shane flushed bright red. Because he recognized that voice, and he remembered that name, but there were billions of people in the world, and Shane had never considered the possibility that his old vacation hook-up would make a reappearance.

"You're a fan?"

—

In which Shane and Ilya (and a few friends) run into Mexico top (iykyk) at the Kingfisher.

Notes

Okay, FINE, these two still have a chokehold on me, and despite my best efforts to ride out this hyperfixation until it naturally fades, I am back with another fic. This one also involves intimate revelations in front of an audience — what can I say, I like what I like. *shrugs* At least I managed to write smut this time!

This takes place at some point after the end of The Long Game and contains minor spoilers for that book and all others in the series. This is more book than show canon, as it explicitly references a conversation that takes place in the Heated Rivalry book that was not included in the show. More specifically, it was inspired by an exchange that Ilya and Shane have where Shane reveals that during their seven-year-long situationship, Shane had a few other sexual experiences with men. But I wrote this with TV show actors in mind, and there are some elements of show canon blended in for fun. 🙂

Also, IDK if we ever learn where Eric grew up a lovely commenter let me know that Eric is from Hamilton, Ontario, but for the purposes of this fic, it's Minnesota for ~reasons~.

Unbeta'd because I just finished this morning and I liked the idea of posting exactly a month after posting my first fic in this fandom!

"I'm just saying," Scott said for the umpteenth time that night. "I don't think we should be allowing a team that just defeated the Admirals to celebrate that win in our bar!"

Shane watched in amusement as Scott gestured emphatically with his—thankfully mostly empty—pint of beer. He and Scott were crammed into a booth with Ilya, Eric, and Troy, and five hockey players in a single booth was at least two too many. Even without sloshing everybody with beer, Scott still half-elbowed Eric in the chest as he gesticulated.

Eric clapped Scott on the shoulder in commiseration. "You want to turn down the business? You know hockey players drink like fishes when they're celebrating a win." He grinned at Shane, who took an ostentatious sip of his two-dollar ginger ale. "Well, most of them do."

"It's the principle!"

"Oh, don't be a big baby, Hunter," Ilya chimed in with a shit-eating grin. He was on his second glass of very expensive vodka. "You did not even play tonight—it was almost a real challenge."

It had been a close game, the kind of win where going out to celebrate afterwards felt well-earned. Shane could admit that maybe celebrating said win at the Kingfisher was a little rude, but they only had one night in New York City, and he'd wanted to finally visit Scott and Eric's bar. It was… nice. Despite being out, proud, and married to a man, Shane didn't always feel super comfortable in most gay clubs or bars. Partying had never really been his thing, but a chill sports bar that felt like a truly inclusive space… Much more his speed.

"How are your ribs?" Shane interrupted before Ilya riled Scott up any further. A nasty check last week had left Scott with bruised ribs and he'd sat out tonight's game against the Centaurs.

"Better," Scott said with a small grimace. "Sucks not to play, but it's early enough in the season that we decided it would be better to sit out a few games and fully heal than play through the pain."

"We?" Eric said with an incredulous laugh. "Your rant last week about the team doctor made the decision sound a lot less mutual."

"I'm fine! And maybe if I'd played tonight we would have won."

Troy snorted, his eyes glued to his phone as Ilya chimed in, "Aww, is Kip not playing sexy nurse for you?" He looked over at the bar, where Kip was chatting with Kyle and Luca. "Last year when I hurt my knee, Shane—"

"No," Shane said, his voice deadpan as he shot Ilya a look. Ilya shut his mouth, his eyes dancing playfully. Both Scott and Shane flushed.

Scott cleared his throat and darted a look at Kip, before saying diplomatically, "Kip has been very… careful."

"Ah. That's tough," Troy said. He was in the middle of the booth and clearly only paying half-attention to the conversation, his thumbs flying over his phone screen. Probably texting Harris.

Scott nodded at Troy's phone, obviously thinking the same as Shane. "Harris didn't want to tag along for this game?"

"No, he did," Troy grumbled. "He's been wanting to come to the Kingfisher for ages—he's making me text him a play-by-play of everything that's going on so he feels like he's here."

"Tell him he is very good father and to give Chiron lots of kisses from me," Ilya said, and Shane wondered how much he was fighting the urge to text Shane's parents for updates on Anya. "His paw will be better in no time."

Eric and Scott looked confused, and Shane clarified, "Chiron is Harris and Troy's dog."

Troy looked up from his phone. "Yeah, Harris was supposed to come with us but Chiron hurt his paw when we were at the park a few days ago. It's healing fine, but we didn't want to leave him in a kennel while he's injured, so Harris stayed home."

A cheer went up from around the dart board across the bar, and Shane snorted as Bood high-fived Hayes before performing an obnoxious celly. Dykstra and Young looked on with expressions of defeat.

"Seems like the guys are having fun," Shane murmured to Ilya as a couple of men approached their table, one of them calling to Eric. Ilya gave Shane a sidelong glance.

"And you?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you having fun?"

Shane smiled at him, bumping against his arm and briefly rubbing his cheek against Ilya's shoulder. "Yeah, I am."

Ilya nodded, a half-grin tugging up the corner of his mouth. "Good."

"You gonna introduce us to your friends, Bennett?" Scott said, loudly enough that it pulled Shane's attention from Ilya and over to Eric. He was coming out of a bro hug with a tall, thin man who looked to be about Eric's age, with a bald head and a big, sandy beard.

"This is my buddy, Adam. Adam watches a lot of hockey, so I don't think I need to introduce the guys…?"

Adam laughed and shook his head. "Nah, definitely not. Nice to meet you all."

"We grew up together in Minnesota," Eric continued. "He moved to NYC a few months ago with his wife, and I've been trying to convince him to check out the Kingfisher for weeks. What finally made you make the trip out from Staten Island?"

Adam nodded towards the man just behind him. He was tall and built, with dark hair flecked with silver and matching stubble. Shane could only see his profile from where he was sitting—sharp jaw, strong nose—but something about him felt immediately familiar. It wasn't only the fact that he was hot and exuded the kind of easy confidence that always made Shane pay attention.

"My friend from college is visiting with his partner, and I told him I knew of the best gay sports bar in the city."

"Hi, I'm Matt," the man said. His gaze swept over the table, and when he met Shane's eyes, he winked. "Great to meet all of you. I'm a big hockey fan."

Shane flushed bright red. Because he recognized that voice, and he remembered that name, but there were billions of people in the world, and Shane had never considered the possibility that his old vacation hook-up would make a reappearance.

"You're a fan?" Shane choked out, his voice going high and hysterical towards the end, completely against his will. He knew his weirdness had not gone unnoticed given the confused looks Troy, Scott, and Eric were shooting him. He could sense Ilya staring a hole into the side of his face but he refused to turn and acknowledge him, his eyes locked on Matt's.

Matt grinned, a teasing lilt to his voice as he replied, "Well, I'm a Nomads die-hard, so I can't say I'm actually a fan of any of y'all personally, but if you wanted to come play for Minnisota…"

Troy snorted. "Yeah, I'm good, thanks." He immediately colored. "Uh, no offense?"

Matt laughed. "None taken."

"What is going on here?" Eric asked, gesturing between Shane and Matt. "Do you two know each other or something?"

"Yes," Ilya agreed, his voice taking on that low, pleasant register he often got when deciding how, exactly, he wanted to eviscerate somebody. "How do you know Shane?"

"Shane?" Matt said, brow furrowing with faux concentration. "Hmm, no, I don't think I've ever met a Shane before."

God, Shane had forgotten that Matt was kind of a shit-stirrer. Which was apparently Shane's type.

"Oh, don't be a dick," Shane said, cheeks heating as he looked at the rest of the table. He'd debated trying to brush past it, but he knew there was no way anybody at the table was going to let it rest; he might as well come clean. "We, uh, met while on vacation years ago." He shot Ilya a side-long glance. "In Mexico."

"Mexico, hmm?" Ilya said in a deceptively calm voice before draining his glass of vodka. Shane turned his attention back to Matt.

"And apparently you knew who I was the whole time? What the fuck!" It had been the first time Shane had ever picked up a man, other than Ilya, and he'd been shitting bricks the entire time. He'd used a fake name, obviously, and he'd thought that in Mexico he'd be safe from running into a hockey fan, but apparently he'd managed to find the one person who'd known exactly who he was.

Matt winced and seemed genuinely apologetic. "I actually didn't recognize you at first." Shane raised an eyebrow and Matt laughed. "Seriously, babe—"

"He is not your babe," Ilya cut in darkly. Matt glanced at him and snorted before directing his attention back to Shane.

"The bar was dark and you were wearing that baseball cap so low I could barely see your face. You told me your name was John! I didn't recognize you until—" He cut himself off, darting another look at Ilya. Shane remembered the moment he'd lost the cap in Matt's hotel room, thick fingers sliding through his hair and pushing it off as he dropped to his knees, looking up at Matt as he mouthed at his dick through his jeans.

Thankfully Matt continued in a much more PG direction. "…until later. I tried to bring it up, after, but I barely even managed a hint before you looked like you were gonna have a panic attack. I didn't think I'd ever actually see you again, and I figured you'd sleep better if you didn't realize I knew who you were—I wasn't going to out you, but there wasn't any way for you to know that for sure."

"This guy?" Ilya burst out in Russian, before continuing in English. "This is Mexico top?"

Scott, Eric, and Troy were all watching wide-eyed, like they had no idea how they were supposed to react, or if they should really be there at all. Matt looked delighted. Shane was mortified.

"You told him about me? Aren't you a sweetheart."

"He is not your sweetheart!"

"Uh, guys?" Scott tried to interject. Out of the corner of his eye, Shane could see Troy furiously typing; Harris would be pissed he missed the drama. Shane wanted a pit to open up beneath him and swallow him whole.

Matt rolled his eyes. "Calm down, big guy. I'm not trying to steal your man. I've got my own."

"Speaking of, where is Damon?" Adam asked, seemingly trying to diffuse the situation. "Liz said they were on their way a while ago." Matt smiled, a slightly love-sick expression crossing his face as he glanced down at his watch.

"They should be here any minute. We should get them drinks. Leave these guys to celebrate their win." Shane appreciated he wasn't trying to overstay his welcome, and it was clear he had no interest in rekindling their vacation fling, thank god. Adam clapped Eric on the shoulder, promising they'd catch up soon.

Matt turned back towards Shane before he walked away. "Seriously, though. I'm happy for you. I'm glad it worked out with your guy." They had talked a little, after. Enough for Matt to know Shane had been hung up on a man he couldn't have. He'd clearly put together the pieces that Ilya was the same guy Shane had been mooning over half a decade ago. Shane smiled softly and nodded. And then Matt had to ruin it by turning to Ilya with a shit-eating grin, "And if you ever feel up for a foursome…"

He winked and turned away before Ilya could reply. For all that Ilya teased Shane about his no threesomes rule, he was pretty sure Ilya wouldn't actually like watching Shane with somebody else. Shane knew he definitely didn't want to see Ilya touch anybody who wasn't him.

"Damn, Hollzy," Troy said once Matt and Adam were at the bar and well out of hearing range.

Shane groaned and dropped his head down to the table. "Somebody kill me."

"I cannot believe we ran into one of your old hookups before one of Roz's. That's like, a statistical impossibility."

"Clearly not impossible," Scott said, his voice far too amused. "Didn't know you had it in you, Hollander."

"This is so embarrassing!"

"Why? Dude's a total fox. I mean, not really my type, but he has that asshole toppy energy that clearly does it for you."

"I feel I should take offense to this," Ilya said as he ran a hand up Shane's back, cupping his neck. Shane turned to look at him, biting his lip at the intensity of Ilya's gaze.

"Didn't take you for the jealous type, Rozanov," Scott said. "Though I guess I might feel some kind of way if I ran into one of Kip's super hot exes."

"They are not exes," Ilya murmured, still staring at Shane. He squeezed Shane's neck, then nodded. "And as much fun as it would be to stay and listen to you all talk about how hot irrelevant man is, I think Shane and I must be off."

"I bet you do," Eric said with a grin. "Feeling the urge to stake your claim?"

Surprisingly, Ilya didn't respond, more focused on sliding out of the booth and tugging Shane with him to bother with niceties.

"Nice to see you Scott, Eric. The bar is great!" Shane half-said, half-shouted as he was dragged towards the door.

"Centuars, we are leaving," Ilya yelled at the room.

"Got it, cap," Bood replied.

Hayes added, clearly speaking to the rookies. "Give them at least an hour before heading back to the hotel. Any earlier, and it's at your own risk."

"Oh my god," Shane moaned, while the rest of the Centaurs laughed and cat-called as he and Ilya left the bar.

Outside it was blessedly quiet, the cool air nice against his flushed skin.

"That guy? Really?" Ilya asked again as they walked the few blocks back to their hotel, their hands twined together.

"What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing, nothing… he is… not what I imagined."

Shane bit his lip. "You imagined it?"

"Ehh, not exactly. But if I had it would not have been him. He is like… one-thousand years old. Older than Hunter!" An unreadable pause. "I did not know you liked older men."

Shane flushed, shrugging. "I mean… I don't? Obviously I don't. You're younger than me, you know."

"By two months."

"It's not really an age thing. I don't know if you noticed, but he was kind of a dick."

Ilya glowered. "I noticed."

"And he has that"—Shane waved his hand around the air—"vibe."

"Yes, the asshole big top energy vibe. Troy said."

"Ugh," Shane replied, but he didn't refute it. He liked getting fucked, and that night he'd been looking for somebody who seemed like he could give Shane what he wanted.

Ilya pursed his lips in thought. "Yes, I suppose you like being teased by sexy tops, this is true."

"I like being teased by you."

"You did not seem to mind so much when Matt teased you."

"Are you serious?" In the dark, with both of them facing forward, Shane couldn't quite tell. "I've literally slept with three men in my entire life, including you, and you're jealous? Meanwhile you've probably slept with at least three people on this street with us right now, and…"

Ilya pulled him in for a one-armed hug, pressing a kiss against the side of Shane's face as they walked into their hotel. "No, no. I know it is only you and me, now," he said, hitting the elevator button. "But you said that it wasn't good."

Shane furrowed his brow and looked over at Ilya as they entered the elevator. "What?"

Ilya hit the button for their floor. "Mexico top. You said it wasn't good."

Shane bit his lip and looked away, feeling heat creep up his neck.

"No," he said slowly. "I said that it wasn't what I needed, because he wasn't you. I never said it wasn't good."

The door opened and Shane scurried out, some prey instinct telling him he was being hunted as Ilya stalked out of the elevator after him. Shane fumbled with the key card, and Ilya caught up to him, caging him against the door, grinding against Shane's ass as he breathed heavy by his ear.

"So he was good for you, then?"

Shane nodded, arching back against Ilya briefly before bracing himself as he opened the door so he wouldn't fall right in. Not that it made much of a difference since Ilya immediately shoved him inside before pressing him back up against the door, this time face to face.

"But not as good as me."

It wasn't a question, but Shane shook his head anyway.

"Tell me," Ilya commanded. "Tell me what he gave to you. Where did you go?"

This was new. Hot. Shane liked when Ilya got a little possessive. Not too much, but enough to force Shane to feel how much Ilya wanted him, reminding Shane that he wasn't in this alone. Shane made Ilya feel just as wild as Ilya made Shane.

"We went back to his room."

"You were on trip with Hayden and some other players, yes? Couldn't risk taking him back to yours and them seeing."

Shane nodded. "Same resort but different building."

"What next?"

"He kissed me."

Ilya leaned close, breath warm against Shane's lips, but he didn't close the distance. "How did he kiss you?"

Shane swallowed, the sound loud in the quiet of their hotel room. "Soft, slow at first." Ilya leaned the rest of the way, his lips a gentle caress against Shane's, coaxing a quiet moan from deep in Shane's belly. They'd barely even touched and he was already wound tight and ready to go.

"And then?" Ilya said into Shane's mouth.

"Then harder. More, uh… Commanding. Tugging my hair, tilting my face the way he wanted when he realized I—"

"Like giving up control?"

"Yeah," Shane sighed against Ilya's mouth as one of Ilya's hands slid into Shane's hair and pulled.

"Mmm, like this, no?" Ilya said, voice syrupy sweet with an undercurrent of steel as he gave Shane a bruising kiss, one hand pulling on Shane's hair while the other came up to cup Shane's cheek and chin, pinning Shane in place as Ilya plundered his mouth. All Shane could do is moan and hitch his hips into Ilya's, his own hands fluttering uselessly against Ilya's firm chest. He felt trapped and cared for, and so fucking turned on he thought he might actually come just from this kiss.

Ilya kissed him against the door for what felt like hours but was probably only a couple of minutes, before pulling back and staring into Shane's eyes, pupils blown. "And after kissing?"

Shane looked at Ilya from beneath his lashes—an impressive feat considering they were practically the same height.

"Then he asked me how I felt about sucking dick."

Ilya gave him a sharp smile and ran his thumb along Shane's bottom lip, pressing inside Shane's mouth. "Did you tell him you love it? That you were made to suck cock?"

Shane scraped his teeth against the pad of Ilya's thumb, swirling his tongue against the fat digit as Ilya's gaze grew even hungrier. "Something like that."

"Did you drop to your knees for him, moya lyubov?" Shane nodded, slowly sinking to his knees and reaching for the fly of Ilya's jeans. "Did he keep still and let you show off how you gag for it? Or did he take what he wanted from you?"

Shane pushed Ilya's jeans and briefs down just far enough to release his swollen cock, flushed and leaking. He met Ilya's gaze as he lapped up a bead of precome with his tongue, and Ilya moaned.

"He slid his hands in my hair"—Ilya immediately followed suit—"and let me set the pace at first." Shane murmured the words against Ilya's dick, lips brushing against the head and shaft as he teased himself and Ilya both. "But once he could see how much I wanted it, he took control. Held my face still and pumped into me."

It was heady, seeing that hungry look in Ilya's eyes and knowing how much he wanted Shane, wanted to devour him. He never felt sexier than when he was on his knees in front of Ilya, who was never stingy with his appreciation for how eager Shane was for his cock. Shane gave in to temptation, opening his mouth and sliding down Ilya's shaft, Ilya's hands twitching in his hair, holding on but not guiding… yet.

Ilya groaned as Shane worked him over, Shane's hands braced on Ilya's hips as he bobbed his head and sucked. Shane gave himself over to the slick slide, the stretch of his jaw and the pleasing fullness on his tongue and in his throat.

"Mmm, always so pretty for me like this, with your mouth stretched around my dick. Did your Mexico top tell you how pretty you looked? How good you were?"

Shane moaned and nodded, his mouth still full, bracing himself for Ilya's reaction. As expected, Ilya's eyes narrowed, not liking that somebody else knew how much Shane liked praise, liked being good. He slid his hands more firmly around Shane's skull, holding him still until Shane whined. But Ilya didn't make him wait long before thrusting in, slowly fucking his throat while Shane looked up at him helplessly, so turned on he didn't want to risk touching his cock in case he came before they got to the main event.

"Did he come in your throat?" Ilya panted before shaking his head. "Mmm, no, he topped you, yes? Only one besides me who's had you like that."

Ilya pulled out, and Shane nodded again. "Yeah. He fucked me."

"How?" Ilya rubbed the head of his wet dick against Shane's lips, but didn't press inside when Shane obediently opened them.

"Hmm?" Shane asked, dreamy as he stared at Ilya's cock. He wanted it.

Ilya chuckled and smacked Shane's cheek with his dick. "Pay attention. I want to know how he fucked you."

"He pulled me up. Told me to strip naked and get on the bed."

Ilya reached down with both hands, hooking them under Shane's armpits and pulling him up. Shane went easily, swaying towards Ilya and brushing a kiss against his lips. Ilya smiled against his mouth before stepping back and gesturing at Shane's body.

"Do it."

Shane stripped, quickly folding his clothes as he told Ilya, "He got naked too."

Ilya didn't make a sound, but Shane could feel his amusement as Shane climbed naked on the bed. By the time he was settled, Ilya was nude, glorious and golden, lit by the yellow glow of the bedside lamp.

"What next, Shane?"

"He got on the bed between my legs. Kissed me. Sucked my dick while he fingered me open."

"Did he take his time with it, or did he let you rush him?"

"He tried to take it slow, but I just wanted to get fucked."

Ilya grinned as he climbed onto the bed, all feral, cat-like grace that made Shane's already painfully hard cock twitch. "Yes, my impatient Shane. Is too bad you can't be fucked all the time. You love being full."

Shane bit his lip on a moan. "You gonna fill me up?"

Ilya leaned down and kissed him, slow and filthy, until Shane was panting into his mouth and his hips were twitching upwards, desperate for friction Ilya wasn't providing.

"Mmm, yes. But not yet. First I have to get you ready, no?" Ilya kissed his way down Shane's stomach, pausing when he got to Shane's dick and looking up at Shane. "Were you this hard for him? Like you will come the second I wrap my lips around you?"

Shane shook his head desperately. "No. Just you."

Ilya flashed a sharp smile. "Good. Don't come."

Shane shouted as Ilya swallowed him down before remembering they were in a hotel room and not the privacy of their own home. He flushed, hoping their teammates had listened to Hayes as he pressed his forearm against his mouth trying to muffle his moans. Ilya was radiating smugness, which only intensified as he rubbed a lube-slick finger against Shane's hole.

Shane bit down on his arm as Ilya slid inside, overwhelmed by Ilya's hot, wet mouth and the feeling of finally having something in his ass. Ilya thankfully didn't tease him, avoiding his prostate as he quickly opened him up. It was still almost too good, and Shane had to work not to lose himself in the moment and blow his load before Ilya got his dick in him.

"I'm good, come on. Need you to fuck me," Shane panted, letting all of the desire shine through his expression as he stared down at Ilya.

Ilya pulled off him with a slick pop, lips shiny and curled into his signature smirk as he continued lazily pumping two fingers in and out of Shane's ass.

"Did you beg him for it, too?"

Shane shook his head, but before Ilya could feel too smug about it, he added, "Didn't need to."

Ilya growled, but there was something playful in his expression; he knew Shane was riling him up, but he didn't seem to mind it.

"Ah, he just gave you exactly what you wanted? Didn't even get to hear how sweetly you beg for it? So sad for him." He shook his head, and gave an exaggerated frown, before his expression morphed once more into something more heated. "How did he fuck you?"

"On my hands and knees."

"Mm, you like it from behind," Ilya said, motioning for Shane to flip over.

Shane nodded, hesitating for a moment before saying quietly, as he turned onto his stomach, "Easier to imagine it was you."

"Shane," Ilya replied as he pulled Shane up to his hands and knees, bending down to press a kiss against Shane's shoulder. "Baby."

"He didn't call me baby."

"Good."

Ilya pulled back, and Shane heard the familiar crinkle of a condom wrapper and the snap of the lube cap as Ilya slicked himself up. Shane shuddered as the head of Ilya's cock nudged up against his hole and slowly began to press inside.

"Is that—?"

"Yeah," Shane groaned as Ilya sank all the way inside. "Feels so fuckin' good."

"Yes, you too," Ilya grunted as he set a slow, steady rhythm, his hands gripping Shane's hips. "This how he fucked you?"

"Mmm," Shane hummed. "But harder."

"Of course he did. Hard and fast, just how you like it." Ilya punctuated that with a particularly brutal thrust that punched a guttural moan out of Shane's throat.

"Yeah—fuck—sometimes. Not always." Ilya wasn't wrong that taking it hard from the back was a sure-fire way to get Shane off, but that wasn't always what he was in the mood for.

"But you want it now?"

"Christ, yes, please."

Ilya obliged, his hips thrusting into Shane in the hard, fast rhythm that never failed to make Shane see stars. One of the many benefits of fucking somebody for over a decade was that Ilya knew what Shane's body liked best. He knew exactly what angle would nail Shane's prostate on every thrust, how a well-timed smack to Shane's ass would have him dropping to his elbows and moaning into the hotel pillow. He also knew this was the best way to make Shane come hands-free. It didn't happen every time, but…

"He make you come just on his cock?"

Shane shook his head with what little of his wits he had left, the rest of him fully focused on the pleasure coursing through his body, and the orgasm building up steam inside of him.

"That's right, only me. First time I had you, I made you come hands-free. You remember?"

"Of course I remember, Ilya! Jesus Christ, stop talking and fucking give it to me."

Ilya growled and somehow managed to pick up the pace, fucking into Shane harder, faster. Shane's dick swung with each thrust, and he desperately wanted to wrap a hand around himself for a bit of friction to push himself over the edge. But Ilya wanted him to come on only his cock, and Shane wanted that too—prostate orgasms were insane.

"Fuck, you look so good, take me so well," Ilya groaned. He was a talker—both in and out of bed—and Shane couldn't pretend he didn't like it. "So good for me, always. Want to make you come. Want you to come for me."

Shane blacked out.

Well, not completely, but he came so hard he was pretty sure he lost at least a couple of seconds. He had no idea how loud he was when he came, or if he managed to muffle his groans in the pillow he was currently panting against. Above him, Ilya was grunting and swearing, sliding out of Shane, and slipping off the condom. Shane looked back at him over his shoulder, biting his lip at the intense, focused look on Ilya's face as he stripped his cock while staring at Shane's ass. It didn't take him long to come, painting Shane's ass and lower back with jizz, marking him, claiming him. It was fucking hot. Sure, Shane would need to shower it all off soon before he got too gross, but he would have showered before bed anyway.

Shane let himself fully collapse against the mattress, staying on his stomach to avoid smearing Ilya's come all over the bedspread. Ilya laid down next to him on his back, tugging Shane until he was partially draped over his chest, his ear pressed against Ilya's pec while Ilya's fingers played with his hair.

"Fuck, Hollander. You killed me. I am dead."

Shane smiled. "Not the first time you've said that, and yet, here you are."

Ilya hummed with satisfaction. "Mmm, yes, nowhere else I'd rather be."

"You're not…" Shane hesitated. He was pretty sure he knew the answer, but his brain wouldn't let him leave it alone until he was positive. "You're not actually jealous, right?"

"Of Mexico top?"

"He has a name, Ilya." Ilya scoffed, and Shane continued, "I slept with him because I was lonely. And because I wanted to prove to myself that I could. That I could have sex with a man that wasn't you. That how I felt about you was… that it was nothing."

Ilya scratched his fingers against Shane's scalp the way he knew Shane liked. Shane melted further against him.

"Yes, I know. I'm not jealous that you had sex with other people—is fun to pretend, but I do not own you, not now, and not then."

Shane could sense there was more to that thought. "But?"

"It makes me… sad? I do not know if that is exactly right word, but sometimes I do not like thinking about all the time we wasted not being together. I do not like thinking about you lonely and not satisfied. How empty I felt, sometimes, when we went a long time without seeing each other."

"Yeah, I get that. But we weren't ready. It sucked, but I'm glad we took our time. I don't think we'd have this now if we'd tried to make an actual go of it any sooner."

"No, I know," Ilya agreed. "Is silly dreamland. I would not change anything and risk not having you here with me now. But sometimes…"

Shane pushed himself up on his forearms so he could meet Ilya's gaze, trail his own over the cut of Ilya's jaw and the soft sweep of his lashes. Shane loved him so much his chest ached with it.

"Sometimes…?"

Ilya smiled, sweetness tinged with the faintest hint of melancholy. Shane had learned not to be so scared of the hints of pensive sadness that sometimes came over Ilya—his husband was more comfortable with heavier emotions than Shane was.

"Sometimes I look at you, and I think that one lifetime at your side cannot possibly be enough. You make me greedy. I want to hoard every second with you, kick my younger self for not collecting more of them."

Shane's breath caught, and the embarrassing threat of tears began to prickle at the back of his eyes. He leaned forward, closing his eyes and pressing a soft kiss to Ilya's lips.

"I love you," he whispered into his husband's mouth. "So fucking much."

Ilya's smile was sweet against his lips.

"I know."