Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories:

F/M, M/M

Fandom:

Heated Rivalry (TV)

Relationships:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Hayden Pike/Jackie Pike, Shane Hollander/Hayden Pike/Jackie Pike/Ilya Rozanov

Additional Tags:

Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Platonic Soulmates, Bodyswap, Autistic Shane Hollander, Anxious Shane Hollander, Masturbation, Dom Ilya Rozanov, Sub Shane Hollander, Spanking, Anal Fingering, Being Walked In On, Polyamory Negotiations, Foursome - F/M/M/M, Rimming

Language:

English

Series:

Part 2 of You Know Where I Am, You Know Where To Find Me

Stats:

Published: 2026-05-09 Words: 9,780 Chapters: 1/1

Love Is Not A Choice (Boys Love Boys And Girls Remix)

Summary

Waking up in Jackie Pike’s body is certainly not ideal, this fresh PQ Day. But Ilya is a master of making things work for him.

Notes

When I was very first worldbuilding from Pike PoV, I was initially struggling with who I wanted Shane and Ilya to wake up as. I knew Shane would panic about what him waking up being a woman would mean, and I love to write angst, but a voice in the back of my head was like ‘100% chance woman!Ilya just masturbates at the problem, CCM style’ and that seemed funny. I initially went with the angst, because mmmm, angst, but I just couldn’t stay away from this version.

Ilya generally sleeps naked at home. A roommate on roadies necessitates boxers at least, though Marly stays in t-shirts as long as he can turn off the aircon, and Jonesy wears tanks and compression pants like a fuckin’ psycho. The holiday visit to the Hollanders brought with it full flannel pyjamas, a sexual tragedy alleviated by the dual pleasures of untying a drawstring with his teeth, and being in Shane’s childhood bedroom. But at his home, and Shane’s, nudity serves Ilya well. They don’t spend enough time together to reject a single moment of skin to skin. It’s as important to fall asleep with his soft dick resting in the cleft of Shane’s ass as it is to wake up with Shane’s cheek on his pec, his boyfriend’s arm slung around his torso. Clothes interrupting their contact would be just cruel.

This morning is no different. Ilya’s flight landed at Trudeau just after eight last night, and nudity became part of the story by nine. After bending Shane over in the kitchen, and mutual blowjobs against the wall, their final orgasms of the night were in bed, of course leading to Shane changing the sheets. He must have a dozen sets, all by the same brand, because when Shane finds something that works for his senses he buys in. In all fairness, Ilya likes silk&snow too. They’re smooth against his skin, and despite how frequently they’re washed, they don’t pill. Ilya would put up with it if he had to. Hell, he’d fuck Shane on a bed of nails. But it’s nice to fall asleep in comfort.

Ilya has a habit of waking up before Shane. It’s not something he does on purpose, even if occasionally talking shit to Shane about him sleeping in and slacking off when he’s up five or ten minutes later can be fun, a great way to rile him up. It’s just fact. Ever since they were able to sleep together for the first time, the day of the tuna melt fiasco, Ilya’s woken up first, generally with the intent of basking in his man’s glow unobserved.

This morning it’s going to take a bit of effort. When Ilya drifted off he was on his back, Shane on his stomach, mostly on his own side of the bed, with only his leg thrown over Ilya’s. Shane’s clearly done some tossing and turning, because there’s no part of him on Ilya now. It’s fine. Having a little bit of distance on the mattress only means Ilya can get a full glimpse of his sweetly slumbering face. It’s not like he’s Hotchkins, losing his mind with ritual paranoia during the playoffs, upset because he didn’t wake up with his wife on him like he was supposed to. There’s no omen to come from this, just the opportunity to either witness his beauty of a man from slightly afar, or prowl in towards him and cradle whatever part of him he can.

Unfortunately all it takes is rolling over and Ilya’s got crystal clarity. There’s no dick between his legs. The weight of it on his thigh is just gone. And when he instinctively clenches his core, like he can resist the theft of something that was stolen hours ago, he can feel his pussy tightening. Nor is it the only obvious sensation. With the roll comes the weight of boobs on his left bicep.

It’s March third. It’s PQ Day. That wasn’t supposed to matter this year. Sure he and Shane are in the best place they’ve ever been; not yet fully set up for success in Montreal and Ottawa, charity known enough that they can Tweet each other, but emotionally connected on a level they never could have managed before. But neither of them had expected that to matter, because as eligible as fate might find them, Sveta is still single. Today was only supposed to mean a free day, a chance to use his millions to fly in after the Detroit game, and fly out before the Kansas game. Two whole nights, and a day. Fucking bliss. Fucking bliss, because Ilya fully intended on achieving approximately ten orgasms a peice in the thirty six hours they had.

But now he’s lying here, and there’s no way around the facts. He has breasts, he has a pussy, but he does not have the rustle of tight curls crunching under the weight of his head, nor can he smell her specially formulated curl conditioner. He’s not Sveta, but he is a woman, and the only way Ilya gets out of this with what he wants is if some time this week Sveta had the most enchanting one night stand, and she, too, is about to be surprised by how much it actually meant.

Opening his eyes dashes his last hope. Across the bed from him is not his lovely Sveta, ready to be tied to him forever. Instead it’s the Metros fifteenth worst player. Presuming that Hayden isn’t having some wild affair that hasn’t been exposed yet -and he better not be, Pike has kids and Ilya will slit his throat- Ilya must be cloaked in Jackie.

It’s not what he wanted. For over a decade Ilya’s wanted Sveta, in his bed and by his side, and being best friends and occasional fuckbuddies with his significant other. Even once that became Shane, became a man who would never want her or her potential girlfriend, and only just might want her boyfriend, Ilya’s still never wished for anything else. Sveta is the literal definition of the woman you want in your PQ, the best friend you might as well be married to. Hideous Hayden Pike is about as far as you can get from Sveta.

It’s good for Shane, though. Probably. Shane’s got some peculiarities. Shit that makes him different from anyone else Ilya knows. Ilya can believe without too much difficulty that Sveta and company would have swiftly picked up on things and chosen to respectfully emulate routines and restrictions. But Hayden and Jackie already know. They’ve known Shane for almost as long as Ilya has, and while it pains him to say it, for a long time probably knew him better. He’s got spare clothing at the Pikes. A pillow safely vacuum sealed in the guest room closet. Ginger ale in the fridge. Shit, he’s the godfather of the kids. That’s the kind of role you assign after you find your PQ, but for the Pikes it’s always been Shane. It’ll be good for his anxiety to know that the Pikes are fated to be permanent. Maybe it’ll help him come out to them. Shane hasn’t wanted to, content with Sveta and Rose being their sole confidantes, but like the Americans say, the cat is out of the bag now.

How much Shane is going to freak out, how much the Pikes are going to freak out, Ilya can’t say. The one thing he’s sure of is that his sex vacation has slipped through his hands like grains of sand. Ilya has always been a part of the smart majority of society who will one day fuck on March third. It’s not cheating, it’s still you and your beloved, just in a new body to play with. But Shane won’t want to fuck him. Not as a gay man fucking a pussy, and not as a man looking at his best friend’s wife. The hood of the car, the floor in front of the fireplace, the expanse of wall in the living room - all Ilya’s plans for this weekend are ruined.

That said, two partners aren’t needed for an orgasm. Ilya’s not going to have sex until Sunday, but he can still get off. He just has to. He'll explode if he doesn’t. He’s too young to not wake up hard. Or wet, as it were. Arousal feels different like this, a more diffused heat rather than the immediacy of his erection screaming at him to do something. But it’s still plainly there. His body still craves touch. It’s up to Ilya to figure out how, and where.

After giving a moment’s thought to logistics, Ilya rolls halfway back to on his back. Some positions might make for a hotter pose, but that only matters if there’s someone he wants to see. On the contrary, he doesn’t want to overly jostle the bed and wake up Shane. If he has to take a break to disarm a stress bomb he’s probably not getting back to this for a while. The thin line between anticipation and blue balls snaps when it becomes denial, not delay. So Ilya keeps his movements minor, his left leg resting on the bed so he can face Shane, but bending his right leg skyward. It gives him a lot of space to touch himself. He doesn’t need to be facing Shane, there’s no eye candy to look at, only stupid Pike stretched out in his sleep, but at least the pillow still smells like his boyfriend.

Eyes half mast at best, Ilya reaches down to touch himself. Ilya’s done this before, like he’s done most sexual things at least once. Second base hasn’t been new for about fifteen years. Where the calming comparison to previous experiences dies is how infrequently he’s touched a pussy from this angle. The woman would have had to have been in his lap, facing out. They usually wanted to face him, to kiss and grip on to his thick arms and try to leave marks on his neck and chest, like they’d still matter a week from now.

He’s wet. Jackie’s wet. It’s hard to say which one of those is more true. And while Ilya’s sure there are great philosophies about who’s body it truly is on the third, books published and theses written and blogs posted, Ilya swiftly finds himself in a place of not caring. His fingers, her fingers, are slick as he gathers wetness from his labia, a firm slide that makes him gasp for the first time. Thankfully no sharp acrylics, though it’s probably more to do with the amount of diapers she’s still changing, not bedroom safety.

After a minute of practically petting himself, Ilya considers dipping down. getting inside himself. Two fingers to start with, maybe, over the one that was his go to, back when he had wider masculine digits and a penchant for fingerfucking women in club bathrooms. He’s not a bottom, but it’s not like there’s anything shameful about it. This is different equipment, maybe it’ll feel more enticing.

Ultimately though, he moves up instead. He starts with his thumb, stroking over his clit with determined smoothness. With experimentation fueled by need he learns faster is better, and pressure even better. He’d kill for the hard plastic of a vibrator, but all their toys are in a series of velvety bags in a stylish Wayfair-purchased chest in the closet, and he’s not prolonging this with getting up. Ilya can get the job done with the undersides of his fingers, the plush but firm length between his first and second knuckles.

Fuck, it’s good. It’s a struggle to not groan, to let the name of his beloved burst from his lips in a needy grunt. Ilya’s moving the mattress way more than he planned to, than is safe if he wants to keep this incognito, but he can’t stop his hips from grinding forward to meet his hand. Can't stop the way his right heel digs into the bed like his entire body is begging for leverage. He wants to grind his pussy into someone’s face, wants to fuck Shane’s face until it’s bright red and his eyelashes are speckled with tears. But he knows Shane wouldn’t be into that, and even in his fantasy it seems to cross the line to imagine doing it to him.

What he can categorically state that Shane would be into is grabbing his chest. He can’t remember the last time he got a blowjob from his boyfriend without the inclusion of a groping hand really going to town on his pecs. He’s even considered piercing himself, just in case Shane really loves it, and it drives him even more insatiable. But Shane can be particular, and ruining the mood when Shane spirals about tattoo parlour hygiene and stats on piercing mishaps isn’t worth it when they can still so rarely see each other. Maybe next year, when Ilya has time to grovel from practically next door, instead of across the continent.

His right hand is busy, will be up to and until and after his first orgasm. Ilya’s had great stats when it comes to assisting women’s abilities to come multiple times, but it varies how they go about it. Some never stop, keep the pounding or licking or vibrating going so the first swiftly converts to a second. Some women need a rest, a cool down when they get too sensitive in the aftermath. Ilya looks forward to figuring out how this body does it, to experimenting with his glorious right. But with Shane in mind, Ilya crooks up his left arm and grabs his breast. And yeah, fuck. Pinching his new nipple while imagining Shane is doing it to his usual body, that really fucking does it for him.

It’s hard to not roll forward a little more and bite Shane’s shoulder as he reaches his peak. Her peak. Hers that is temporarily his, whatever. They’re seperate enough that jerking off is still an essential part of their individual routines, but it’s rare these days to do it without FaceTime, or texting, or Snapchatting a quickly disappeared comeshot. Ilya wants to come, and he wants Shane’s full attention as he does so. But it wouldn’t help, he knows that. It’d ruin things. So he makes due with biting one of the few pillows allowed on the bed, and grinding the heel of his foot practically through the mattress.

It’s the way his body bounces as Ilya relaxes the tension of his leg that dooms him. His hand is paused only momentarily, to press his entire palm over his throbbing core, but in the back of his mind he’s already deployed it once again, this time maybe in a combo of sucking on his fingers instead of playing with his nipples. It’s another very Hollander move, and it’s not like Ilya doesn’t have his own oral fixation. But he doesn’t get to do anything, because he’s jostled Shane enough to rouse him. His eyes aren’t open, and Hayden’s body shouldn’t be such a contrast that he immediately knows, but the clock is ticking.

“Mrngm” Shane mumbles, a vague collection of consonants that make up good morning. Thank god for Hayden’s whitebread Canadian accent, it’s not enough to trigger confusion in his sleepy brain.

“Morning.”

That does, though. A distinctly not Russian voice beside him in bed? Not something even a sleep blurred Shane can accept. “Ilya? I’m-“

Shane cuts himself off as the lack of his own voice clues him in. The spiral begins instantaneously. He flexes his neck right, to get a full view of the body Ilya’s in as he opens his eyes for the first time, but that doesn’t last long. Why look at Ilya, when he could look up to the ceiling, and then bury his face in his hands like if the meat of his palms could make it past the orbital bone they’d squash the stress headache Ilya knows is already building.

“Oh my god. Fuck. Fuck.”

“We’re okay.”

“Oh Jesus, they have to know by now. They have to get Arthur to daycare.”

Yes. Mini-Shane, from what Ilya’s heard. It might be the best thing about this PQ, the way he’ll have new access to adorable children. Ilya’s never gotten to witness that kind of daily routine, but he imagines they should be expecting a text after school starts, whenever that is. Ilya will answer Shane’s phone, of course. Screen it, just in case it’s too much for Shane’s psyche. “It’s okay.”

“Fuck, I’m gonna throw up.”

“Shane. He is dumb, but he is your best friend. They both are. They will not care.” It’s a thought that’s kept Ilya alive in some of the bleakest moments in Russia. No matter what the rest of the world might think, the vitriol they would throw, whomever stood side by side with Sveta would love him for who he is. Would have to, otherwise they wouldn’t be fit to be a PQ. It’s hard to imagine Hayden Pike loving him, but he’ll certainly tolerate him in his quest to keep Shane comfortable.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” Shane moans. Ilya’s honestly surprised that he’s still frozen in bed. The last time this happened Shane was full of movement, pacing from the table to the window, bending to combat the nausea, clinging to Ilya, collapsing to his knees.

“No, it’s okay. Shane, really. Who cares about stupid them? This is still just us.”

“We don’t sound like us. We don’t look like us,” Shane snaps back, stress in every millimetre of his voice.

“Roll over.”

“What?”

“Roll. Over. On your stomach.” It’s a woman’s voice, he knows. Not what Shane wants to hear. But Jackie raises four kids half by herself. She’s got a strong authoritative voice. Alto or baritone, Ilya can make a command worth listening to.

Shane rolls over. It’s not without hesitance, the dual downers of coming out panic and memories of how bad his last sex with a woman was both working their ugly magic and throwing up question marks in what is usually a very compliant part of Shane’s mind. It’s fine though. It won’t be Ilya’s first or last time fucking him to the other side of a bout of panic. And he’s already half devised a way to be the least woman he can be, while still wearing a woman’s body. He’s got this, if Shane will let him.

“Oh, such a good listener. Good listener needs rewards, huh?”

Ilya accompanies the compliment -the promise, the necessity they so often feel with each other, the comforting whirlwind of their need- with a touch of fingertips. It’s a small enough point of contact that it should feel the same to Shane, these five circles of sensation drifting over his ass. Ilya’s played with him like this before, taken the time to touch every inch of him. Both before, when the duration of sex was the time they’d get together, and he’d had the urge to make that as long as possible, and after their declaration of love. It’s a fucking privilege to touch Shane for minutes and hours and eternities, even if the hand he’s doing it with is still tacky with come.

Once he has Shane in a better place, thinking only about sex, not about how they’re on a countdown to a very awkward phone call, Ilya relaxes a little. Becomes more focused at the same time. He’s got Shane, but he needs to be good enough to keep him. It’s Ilya’s responsibility to keep him safe and comfortable and turned on. He’s shivering in a way he doesn’t usually, when he’s this aroused. Must be a Pike thing.

Ilya flops onto his back just long enough to get the lube out of his side table. It’s in both tables, silicone in one, water based in the other, and while sometimes it matters, if they’re involving toys or something, the only thing that matters now is proximity. If Ilya has to reach over his boyfriend to get to the left side drawer he’ll rub his new tits on Shane. That’ll be at best a mood killer, and at worst a return to the ‘you’re a girl, Jackie’s a girl, Jackie’s going to hate me for never being honest about the blind date set ups’ spiral.

Rather than roll back to his side to continue his one handed ministrations, Ilya pulls Jackie’s body onto their knees. There’s literally no bad sex positions when it comes to Shane. Every orgasm they’ve ever had together has been no less than spectacular. It’s just that they each have their uses, and some come up more than others. Missionary is fantastic when Shane wants to feel proud of his body, stretchy enough to get his knees at his ears. Showersex is great for if he’s close to sensory overload, the sound and texture of the water as helpful for returning him to baseline as mind overriding lust. Cowgirl and reverse are good for when Shane wants to be in control, which he mostly doesn’t. Doggy is good for speed and power, which Shane is generally very into, but only if they make out after, otherwise it’s too much like the 2014 MLH awards which is sad for both of them.

Speed and power is what Ilya wants now, obviously. The stress is lingering underneath, still, but shower sex would be everything they’re not looking for. Nothing about entangling their wet bodies together appeals to Shane right now. Ilya actively needs to be in a no kissing position, for his boyfriend’s sake.

“Brace on your elbows.” Ilya wants to rest his hand on Shane’s neck and force his head down but he’s worried Jackie won’t have the strength for it. and he doesn’t want to fuck up the precarious vibe.

Ilya can’t manhandle him like this, as much as he wants to. Orders will have to do. Well, and other helpful stimuli. Ilya smacks a hand down on Shane’s ass as he hesitates and grins at the immediate jolt. Whatever arousal feels like for Hayden, it’s close enough to Shane’s standard that this is still good.

So he does it again. He whaps his hand down on the same cheek, the same spot. And again, and then all over his ass, the wrong skin tone vanishing under the pink glow. Ilya spanks him until Shane is cursing, Hayden’s body shaking in place. Until Jackie’s legs want to close to try to give her pussy some relief. The urge feels just like Ilya wanting to buck forward, despite it being a completely different movement.

“Fuck. Fucking-“ Shane groans.

It’s not what Ilya wants for the night, but it’s good to know that there’s a backup. If what he tries next doesn’t work out, he can probably still get Shane to completion by spanking him while he jerks himself off. Unless Shane spirals about touching Hayden’s dick, and then it’s all lights off. Sex vacation lost to the cruelties of fate handing them this PQ instead of Sveta and some hot guy Shane would be happy to suck off.

“Elbows,” Ilya repeats. And it’s strange how in his head it still sounds like his voice, the emphasis on the first syllable and the deep Russian burr he knows so many people but Shane most importantly finds sexy. Jackie does not sound like that, but maybe Shane’s deep enough in his own desire to translate it the same way, take in his best friend’s voice and process it as his boyfriend’s, because he does it. He folds himself until his gorgeous pink ass is in the air, hairline against their silk&snow sheets as his forearms brace against the bed.

It’s important to position himself correctly for this. Normally he’d be draped over Shane’s back, catching his cock in the cleft of Shane’s ass, caressing and raising goosebumps with his dry left hand, but for so many reasons that doesn’t work. His tits, his lack of cock, even the height difference would be highlighted with where his mouth licking Shane’s spine would land. So instead, to save the mood, Ilya stays up on his knees, legs split on either side of Shane’s left leg. Brushing them up against him would be another neon sign, Ilya’s got the thick legs of a professional hockey player, and a decent amount of hair from thigh to foot arch, and Jackie has decidedly neither. The one benefit of her feminine legs -besides them being admittedly nice to the part of Ilya that still acknowledges hot women- is that they’re slender enough that it’s unlikely he’ll brush Shane accidentally.

Ilya double-checks that Jackie’s nails are fine, and depresses the cap of the Lelo open with a click. It’s a new bottle, only half spent from their times FaceTiming this month. Ilya’s never been that particular, but faced with the combo of Shane’s research proving it’s intellectually the best choice and his textural issues not being triggered by it like some of the Pharmaprix bottles, he’s easily persuaded. It pours out slickly to pool on the pads of his fingers, unscented yet still somehow tickling his nose. Unwilling to waste a moment more, Ilya flutters his digits down the crease of Shane’s ass, a deeper counterpart of his earlier strokes across his cheeks. Once again, it’s enough to make him shudder.

Skin properly coated, Ilya puts two fingers on the furl of Shane’s entrance. His ass is whiter than Shane’s beautiful normal, at least where it’s not pink with impact. flatter too. Not everyone can be as blessed with what he’s seen Twitter call Canada’s ass. It’s hard for Ilya to categorize those differences as important when there’s still the same covetous tension pushing Shane’s hips back like he can catch Ilya’s fingers and keep him. He can’t judge Shane for not wanting a female him, but to Ilya it’s mattering less and less as Shane’s desire shines through, and it already didn’t matter much.

Shane gasps as Ilya pushes the first finger in. Jackie’s got thinner fingers, of course, to match the rest of her frame, but Hayden’s body doesn’t know this sensation. Doesn’t yet know how to accept this. It’s all Shane’s mental fortitude, his determined, unadultered lust for his boyfriend that has him throwing his hips back, and swiftly moaning for more. And Ilya obliges, because there’s little he likes more than a Shane Hollander who’s getting what he wants. One that’s love-fighting, sure, but that’s inapplicable right now. Right now there’s no snark, or smirk, just Shane using Hayden’s voice to groan as Ilya finds his new prostate and nudges it as firmly as he deserves.

In the end it’s Ilya’s fault for not paying enough attention to his surroundings. He used to have a perfect sense of hypervigilance. All the wild places he and Sasha blew each other necessitated it. Getting caught with women on occasion wasn’t ever a failure to protect himself from scrutiny, but the opposite. Slutty shit talking aggressive Russian centre sells in a way that keeps the important things safe. But he’s gotten too used to the seclusion Shane insists on. He’s fully bought into the idea that Shane’s precautions keep them both shielded. Which is stupid, because it’s a theory proven wrong, David walking in on them and all. But that was a one in a million event, or it was supposed to be, and the Pikes were supposed to text Shane their shock and dismay about being forever connected to a Raider.

Instead, here they are. Because Ilya didn’t think to listen for a front door opening. Because he didn’t keep vigilant for feet climbing stairs, or opening doors. Seventeen year old Ilya would be screaming in his face about the stupidity. But maybe it’s a little bit okay that he’s moved beyond sex heightened by anticipatory fear, because Coach Zaitsev would be attempting to beat him and Sasha to death by now, but Hayden and Jackie just stand a few feet into the room, frozen where whatever motivation propelled them into the room got struck down by the truth.

In a flash Shane is flipping onto his back, pulling himself off of Ilya’s hand with such ferocity it must throb. He yanks on the blanket to cover himself hard enough that Ilya almost topples over. Too little too late though. Ilya knows what shock looks like on his face. Knows what it looks like on Shane’s. Hayden and Jackie have definitely got an eyeful, and that’s before calculating that he’s still naked, and not diving for covers.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna die,” Shane moans pitifully.

“We’re sorry, we thought you were having a panic attack. You go nonverbal. It seemed cruel to yell your name from the stairwell when we thought you couldn’t answer,” Ilya’s body rambles, instantly placing which one of them must be Shane.

“Fucking god,” Shane groans, palms once again digging into his eye sockets. “Ilya get under the blanket or I’m going to fucking kill you.”

“Shane? Buddy? It’s okay.”

Ah, so Hayden got Shane’s body. Jackie loves Shane too, but Ilya can’t see her nicknames including the most stereotypically straight Canadian man shit.

“What, exactly, is okay about this?” Shane asks, distressed.

“All of it,” Hayden answers, patting his borrowed hand on Shane's thigh over the drape of the blanket. Ilya wonders if there’s any muscle memory in it. Ilya doesn’t like Hayden, but lord knows he’s the only Metro to provide comfort when games get ugly. Their bodies are reversed, but the sentiment holds.

“We have been together as long as you two, Pike. We do not need to be given permission,” Ilya announces. If Hayden is helping Shane through being perceived, sure, but he won’t have Hayden Pike rubber stamping his relationship acceptable. Their Power Quad isn’t going to start on a foundation of needing approval.

“Not permission. Deep, deep confusion,” Hayden rebuts. “But willingness to see why. It’ll have to make sense, eventually.”

Because that's the thing. As much as he’s Rozanov, shithead enemy Raider, whatever celestial force grants Power Quads to prepared and perfect couples declared Ilya and Shane ready this March. He’s a bastard, but he’s a bastard meant for Shane, and together they’re a couple meant for Hayden and Jackie. No amount of disbelief or disgust should the world in general find out can deny that simple fact.

“We’ll go,” Jackie promises, hand on her husband’s shoulder to encourage him to leave their still blushing best friend, “but can I just say that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen happen to Hayden, and he’s sent me a lot of videos over the years.”

Yeah, well, unless Pike carries his own treasure chest in his suitcase for road games, it would all have to be basic spanking the monkey. When you’re not as hot as Shane is, it probably gets old.

Ilya’s got that thought condensed into a cutting chirp meant to shoo the couple from the room, so he can tend to Shane before he spirals further. Except it hits him that he’s not sure that Hayden and Jackie have to go.

Most people view Power Quads as G rated, a hands off, platonic grouping. A non genetic brother and sister getting built into your white picket fence married life. But Ilya’s always loved Sveta too much to consign her to a sexless eunuch PQ. He’s changed his mind over the years about the best configuration, from camera ready girlfriend and Sveta and a behind the scenes boyfriend to Shane and Sveta and a man his lover could enjoy, or at least a woman he could bond with, but Ilya’s never doubted that he’d be attracted to them all. The Pikes aren’t Sveta, but they’re pretty, and they’ve proven over and over again that they’re trustworthy. Ilya believes he can trust them to keep him safe until all the hoops of PR have been jumped. And he knows his boyfriend does. If Shane was as upset as he thinks he should be he’d be fetal in their bed, unable to hear under the onslaught of buzzing in his ears. But he’s not having a meltdown, because as embarrassed as he feels, and social scripts tell him he should feel, there’s a part of him that thinks it’s hot. Ilya can think of a dozen times Shane’s succumbed to public liaisons. Making out on the roof after the rookie of the year award. Pouncing on him after sharing a hallway with Scott Hunter. The half handjob at the drive-in in Shane’s shitty discrete car. Always he retreats to ‘no, we can’t’, but for moments each time Ilya felt how much he wanted to be seen. At his core, Shane’s really not that much different than he and Sasha were, screaming fuck you this is who I am at a hostile world.

“Do you want to try?” Ilya asks before they can take another step towards the door. Again, it’s a come on Ilya knows would sound better in his own accent, a truly pinnacle experience, but in basic Canadian English it’s still enough to freeze Jackie and Hayden once again, and get Shane ripping his hands off his eyes to glare up at him.

“Ilya.”

“Shane,” he returns. Just like every time Ilya has to use this tone, it means I know you want this, why are you fighting? It means let me bring you to this. It means I see you.

“PQ Day wasn’t supposed to go like this,” he says quietly, on the verge of giving in, to allowing himself to be a human with desires.

“No shit, Hollander. Where is Sveta?” Ilya will just have to be the first person in the world to have a PQ of five, because he’s not letting up that claim just because the universe says it’s not it. “But is fine. Is fine to want this. She looks like me, and she wants to finger her husband’s ass while he allows it. It’s a win win.”

“It does sound a win win,” Jackie agrees, clearly and instantly becoming the better Pike. Makes sense. Couldn’t be Hayden.

“Both of you are crazy,” Shane groans.

“That’s not a no. I need a yes.” As a man with a body count in the hundreds, Ilya knows more than most that consent is important. It’s not sex if both parties don’t want to be there. After all these years Ilya can read Shane impeccablely well, but with sex suddenly so kinky, he needs to hear what he already knows.

“Ilya. You’re sure-“ Shane begins to ask. Because maybe Ilya talks big nonconforming game, but realistically the last time Shane slept with someone that wasn’t him, he flipped out.

But Ilya has a very solid argument, and that’s that Rose was meant to freeze him out and get Shane on the straight track. Sveta and unknown was always about pulling them together. And this? Shane feeling safe and sexy enough to fuck his near decade long best friends? Ilya can’t see a way it doesn’t pull them into a solid Quad, two wings on the sides of a hinge sleeve, often separate but always connected. “Anything that involves you I’m always sure. Ya tebya lyublyu.”

“Ya tebya lyublyu. Yeah. Oh my god, but yes. Shit.”

“You both want this?” Ilya repeats, looking at both members of the couple, one by one, lingering on Hayden. Jackie, Ilya can understand. Being in a room of hot men she can trust to be safe? Why not get down? Get the gangbang without the degradation, so to speak. But this is extremely gay of Hayden, who Ilya clocks at five percent queer at most, and so devotedly married that this ought to be crazy. Ten times outta ten Ilya would have pinned him with a G rated classic Disney PQ dynamic.

“Uh, yeah. The second we’re done negotiating I’ll be on that bed,” Jackie vows. She’s going to have to alter her vocabulary if she wants to sound like Ilya to Shane, not just look like him.

“Other Pike?”

“I have this, uh. Fuck. What the fuck am I thinking? I can’t tell you shit without you mocking me.” Hayden starts off strong, ready to share for a few brief seconds before the Raiders vs Metros of it all gets to him. He starts stumbling his words, and ends on being even less into things than Ilya had meant to question.

But if it’s just because Hayden thinks he’s an asshole, not because he’s unwilling to experiment, that means Ilya can endear himself. It’s a fine edge to balance on, but Shane knows he’s an asshole and loves him. Ilya should be able to coax like out of friends-to-be. “Hey. I have standards. Mocking stays on ice and on Twitter, where it belongs. You wanna say something? Say.”

“What is this? Sincerity? Now it just screams trap,” Hayden not quite jokes, Shane’s arms crossed almost as tensely under Hayden’s direction as Ilya’s seen Shane himself do.

“Paranoid. But fair. But if I am too much asshole, don’t put out. Easy threat. Successful. Ask Shane.”

“Okay, that’s bullshit. You don’t have to talk yourself down,” Shane snaps, determined to support him. “He’s never been enough of a jerk to cut off. Ever. He’s not like that.”

“I know,” Jackie says. “You’ve got way too much self respect for that.”

And maybe it’s not quite true. Maybe there were months that they didn’t fuck because they were busy being cruel to each other. But Shane’s right that there’s never been an instance of a locker room complaint of a girlfriend not putting out until he did the laundry and loaded the dishwasher to her specifications, whined out to the bench like the concept was naggy and irritating. Ilya would just do the dishes. It’s not that hard.

“I had. Have. Whatever,” Hayden scrapes his fingernails over his bicep and shakes his head minutely. Tingly skin and buzzing ears, he’s deep into Shane’s anxiety. “This uh. Fantasy, I guess. That Jackie and I and the other half of our PQ would do it in the same room. Like on a PQ vacation, or something. So I guess this isn’t that much different.”

On the contrary. Ilya has fucked a club girl in the same room as Connors doing his, and that felt very different to what this is. They didn’t all touch each other, for one, stayed six feet apart in their own queen beds. And that’s where this is headed, Ilya’s sure of it. It’ll start off with Jackie fingerfucking Shane, and end up with Hayden getting his dick sucked by a guy for the first time, or Shane topping Ilya’s body so he can say he’s tried it. But unsettling Hayden further when he just promised to be nice isn’t going to help things. He’ll figure it out. Contextualise it how he needs to.

If it was Ilya, he’d open this new scene by directing Shane back to his knees. Really get him showing off, between the inevitable fingerfucking, and the pink sweep across his ass. Maybe provide a second round of spanking to really layer the heat.

But Jackie’s not him, even if she appears so. Her instinct is to kneel on the end of the bed, her bulk making the mattress sag. “Can we take off the blanket?”

Ilya almost winces. She means well, but it’s not something that’s going to work for Shane, and he wants this to work. “Try little less ‘can we’, little more ‘going to’.”

Jackie nods, his cocky grin expressing her feelings. “Wow, love learning new things.”

Ilya’s not sure Hayden feels the same, but he’s just going to have to deal with it. Shane shouldn’t be kink shamed, he should be supported.

“Legs up. Hold your thighs,” Jackie instructs once Shane’s consented to blanket removal. It’s a much better second try, one that has Shane listening and pulling his knees up to his chest.

Or at least he tries. Hayden’s body doesn’t fold the same way Shane’s does. When it’s clear he’s extended himself as much as he can and it’s short of where Shane expects of himself, his boyfriend scoffs in the direction of the only person not on the Cali king. “Maybe you should come over for yoga next week.”

“We are not all built like you, buddy,” Hayden replies.

“Can confirm. No one is as stretchy and beautiful as my Shane.” A desirous Power Quad is all well and good, but there will be no forgetting he is Shane’s and Shane is his.

Jackie takes a moment to whip off her tank top. Ilya knows how many people online think his arms are his best feature, but the way Shane eyes his chest will always matter more. He’d be shirtless forever, if Shane asked. Standing to the side Hayden begins his own strip down, but it being Shane’s gorgeous form is the only thing that provides any lure to it, when compared to Shane on the bed, and the way he quivers when Jackie drags her fingers up and down the backs of Shane’s thighs, from knee to the crease where his ass meets leg. Last summer Ilya left a hickey there, kept it up until he had to leave for training in August. He’s going to do it again the minute Montreal’s playoffs are over.

Ilya’s kind enough to locate the black bottle lost on the bed and place it at Jackie’s knee. He doesn’t mean it as a prompt, not really, just wants to help Shane get what he wants, but the moment it enters her peripheral vision Jackie picks it up. She wastes no time in drizzling her fingers with maybe a little too much, but how could she know? It’s not like it matters, millionaires don’t need to scrimp on drops of luxury lube.

Ilya is transfixed as Jackie slides his fingers up and down between Shane’s asscheeks. They’ve never been stupid enough to do the bane of many a celebrity and make a sex tape. Even if Shane lost his mind enough to agree, Ilya would never risk their future for something frivolously hot. Plus Yuna would literally murder them. Because of their realistic intelligence Ilya’s never gotten to have an outsider perspective on what they look like in a moment like it this. It’s not perfect, because Shane’s not in his body, but it’s still alluring. Whether Jackie’s acclimatizing herself to an act and location that’s never come up for her before, or it’s true dominant teasing because she’s quick on the uptake and Ilya wasn’t subtle, is hard to say. Ilya doesn’t know her well enough yet. And it doesn’t really matter because she’s drawing a reaction out of Shane, one that only doubles once she’s in.

When Hayden finally enters the field it’s not like how Ilya expects. He’s fully focused on Shane getting fingerfucked by his best friend, someone kind and horny and worthy of wearing the form of the man who keeps him safest, essentially indifferent to what their fourth is doing on the floor behind them. And then there’s a hand on his shoulder, making him twist towards the end of the bed. Hayden carries Shane’s body differently, looks different with one knee on the bed leaning forward than Shane would hold the same position. Ilya still accepts it when the visage of his boyfriend angles in for a kiss. He’s accepted kisses in far worse situations in bars in cities and countries around the world.

It’s good. He’s good. His body, Jackie’s body, responds as Hayden uses a decade of husbandly specificity to his advantage. Ilya doesn’t make him stop, doesn’t make things stop by grabbing Shane’s cock in the way he likes and overwhelming Hayden. But when Pike does pull back to stand again, Ilya can’t keep his mouth shut. “You know just because I have your wife’s tits doesn’t mean I am woman.”

“Shut up, Rozanov.”

“Oh, last name in bed. Careful. Might turn me on.”

“Ilya, don’t be an asshole,” Shane manages to command, holding on to crankiness for a brief moment between thrusts of Jackie’s hand.

Ilya looks up at Hayden, who seems generically outraged. It’s a fun thing to provoke, but he wants to say this first. “When I first attempted to fuck Shane- years before it happened, flirted forever first, my stubborn baby- was worried he might gay panic about me touching his asshole. Reminded him it’s same level gay as him blowing me, which let’s be clear, Hollander fucking loves. So same to you, Mr Hayden Pike, Mr Metro. I have your wife’s body, but is still me. Is still queer. Your best friend is gay. Whole PQ. Gay panic is not allowed, unless it is you who is asshole, so only do what will not panic you. Hindsight is a bitch, no?”

Ilya knows he’s not imagining the way the room tenses. His wide shoulders are as clenched as they always were around Alexei as Jackie waits to hear if her husband is going to condemn her fun. Shane, desperate to believe that Hayden meant what he said at the beginning, that this is okay, every part of it, stiffens as he waits to see if Hayden can put his money where his mouth is. And Ilya just needs to know. He was supposed to have Sveta, and a nice girlfriend, or open minded boyfriend. An honest, lusty, affectionate queer happily ever after. If that dream is getting replaced by reality, he needs to know what he can actually have and what’s lost to him now.

Watching in realtime as Hayden processes, he all but holds his breath as Hayden drags his hand over Shane’s short hair. He nods while bouncing on his feet a little, and offers with golden retriever sincerity, “I can eat you out.”

“What?”

“I know how to do it, if it’s queer or not,” Hayden continues. Brave of him, to outright declare his commitment to the Quad, five percent interest or not.

“He’s very good at it,” Jackie lays tinder on Hayden’s burning ego. Or maybe it is true. They have to have sex enough for four kids, after all.

“Not very adventurous, Pike, licking the same pussy you always eat,” Ilya jokes. He can joke now, because this is all going to be fine. The whole room, the whole Power Quad can sense it, otherwise Shane wouldn’t be laying back, eyes struggling to stay open and keep their gaze on the working arm between legs. Jackie wouldn’t be dropping a hand to her cock as she fucks her best friend, her husband, in a way she never has before.

“Sure, but Shane and Jackie will be busy.”

Sure they are now, but Ilya has a little more in mind than a simple partner swap. Swinging is fine for those who enjoy it but Ilya wants two things; for everyone in his PQ to enjoy each other, and for him and Shane to love each other more than any humans have ever loved each other before. Ilya’s been a student of Shane’s body for nearly a decade now, is such a master of knowledge that his body doesn’t even need to be present for Ilya to read him. Shane is close to orgasm now, and while it could be nice for him to be compelled by Ilya’s body, it’s better if it comes from Ilya’s mind. Or so he decides on behalf of Shane, but they’re practically married now. They’re allowed to make joint decisions.

Ilya extends both his hands. One to land on Shane’s poorly elevated knee, the other on Jackie’s shoulder. “Excellent, Jackie Pike. A plus student. Learned so much. My turn now. Wipes are in the drawer.”

Shane would never allow it as their only form of clean up -he’d truly hate what he and Sasha used to make due with- but Jackie’s probably not done fooling around, she just needs a clean hand. Ilya has no intention of her being done, of anyone leaving this room without an orgasm. Shane’s just needs to be from him.

“Took it so good. Looked so pretty,” Ilya says, as soon as Jackie vacates the spot and he can kneel between his boyfriend’s legs. And once again he read the room accurately, everyone’s need for reconnection, because Jackie and Hayden are making out now. It’s a beautiful sight, if he says so himself. One day he and Shane will be out, and millions of people on Twitter will know just how beautiful Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov look making out. But he doesn’t care about them, he cares about the man displayed in front of him. He hopes his voice is filled with even a tenth of the adoration he feels.

“Yeah? Tell me,” Shane murmurs.

“Were scrumptious.”

“Oh, nice word,” Shane smiles, showing the pride he always does when either of them expand their vocabulary. Russian and English, they try not to make it a Duolingo chore, but there’s no questioning the victory when one of them uses a word the other didn’t know they knew. Maybe in another decade, when they’re retired and exploring the world together, they’ll go to Greece or Spain or Iceland and learn something new together by pure immersion.

“Yes, I think it is accurate. So scrumptious, moaning and shaking as you got fucked by hand. Want to gobble you up, my sweet. Moy sladkiy,” he repeats in Russian.

“Fuck. Ilya. Need you.”

Yeah, he does. Shane needs him, and Ilya has him. He’ll never not have him again. They’re beyond that now. “On your knees.”

For the second time that morning, Shane’s rolling over and planting his forearms in the exceedingly rumpled sheets. They’ll have to fix that immediately after, or Shane will lose his mind from the wrinkles alone, never mind the wet spots. The urge to spank him again is almost overwhelming, blush pink begging to be darker, but that kind of thing is even more intimate than vanilla sex, and Ilya’s not going to do it in front of Jackie or Hayden unless Shane says it’s a turn on.

But Ilya doesn’t need to delve into impact play to make an impact on his lover. It’s just as easy to adjust his position on the bed until he’s got his face right at Shane’s ass. Ilya licks a long stripe with widest part of his tongue. He ducks in to start at his taint and licks up to the cleft, everywhere Jackie’s spread lube. He does it again and again, each time pausing over Shane’s hole a little longer.

“Ilya-“

“Mmm. Frosting,” Ilya smirks, shifting just enough from chasing the lube to speak and nip at Shane’s cheek. He can’t leave a mark at this time of year, but the moment shines on the horizon.

“Please!” Shane begs.

“Please what? I am eating. Delicious.” The waterbased Lelo doesn’t taste like much at all. Not like the novelty food flavoured set he gifted Shane once, so he could eat ass without getting into his own head about imagined tastes. They’re all still mostly full in the closet, it’s not something Shane’s really into. He can suck a cock all night long and a dozen times on Saturday, but eating ass just isn’t for him. Ilya’s never made a big deal over it. It’s a great sensation, but sex is full of them, and there’s no fun to be had in trying to insist on something someone else isn’t enthusiastically into.

“Fuck. Stop being an asshole. You know.”

“Tell me,” Ilya purrs.

“Put your tongue in me. Put something. I need you.”

Ilya loves how angry Shane can sound at the weirdest times. In the passenger seat. Mid co-op board game. During sex. Ilya’s pretty sure Shane’s knifeless wrath has ruined him for anyone else. Can be certain of it, actually, considering it’s March third and here he is.

“I’ve got you,” Ilya promises. And then he uses his petite hands to spread Shane’s heated cheeks as far as he can. The intimate line of him is wet with spit now, not lube. Pretty as a picture. But Ilya ignores all of his hard earned claimed skin to lick across his rim. He laps over and over Shane’s hole until he’s trembling, until if he waits any longer Shane’s going to reach backwards to punch him, then plunges his tongue inside.

Some unknown time later -it’s hard to keep the inner stopwatch ticking when Shane is throwing his ass back, Ilya could happily fuck him for eons- Hayden sees fit to assert himself yet again. Ilya would be more annoyed about the interruption if he hadn’t have wanted this so much. It’s like he said. Shane is pacified as the centre of Ilya’s world, so it’s time for the PQ to enjoy themselves.

“Can I get you off? Since you’re getting Shane off.”

“If you think you can,” Ilya provokes.

Ilya’s not sure what he’s expecting but it’s not Hayden grabbing him and dragging him to the edge of the bed. His feet are fully off the mattress when Hayden steps in between his legs, smooth thighs spreading Ilya’s stance wide. And then in what is some truly high school level ‘it’s not sex if it’s not penetration’ loophole, Hayden slaps his dick against Ilya’s labia and begins to rut. It’d be embarrassingly juvenile, except somehow it’s the right amount of pressure to start getting him wet again.

“Crawl back, moy vozlyublennyy.” Ilya’s no longer in position to continue eating Shane out, but he wants to. He just doesn’t want to move away from Pike’s stupid dick bumping over his clit. Shane’s the one with freedom to move.

The moment Shane’s within reach, Ilya grabs onto his thighs and pulls him the rest of the way. He wants Shane with all the more passion now. And he wants to muffle the moans he can’t help but make as Hayden uses Shane’s cock to press against the most needy part of him. Hayden doesn’t need to know just how great this feels. Would do bad things for his Metros ego.

As Ilya returns to his job eating out his boyfriend, and Hayden continues to be annoyingly competent at pleasuring his wife’s body, Jackie suddenly commits to doing a lot of work at once. Ilya was too busy in both directions to notice when she retrieved the Lelo, but he definitely notices the way Hayden stutters against him, breath punching out of his chest. Ilya looks away from his target just long enough to see Jackie standing closely behind Hayden, left hand briefly on his hip, keeping him still. Ilya’s had mirror sex often enough to know what it looks like from the front to plunge fingers deep in Shane’s body. Jackie’s fingerfucking Hayden like she’s just learned how to, while a hand fondling his balls keeps him calm. It’s a proof as to why doing drills at work is so important. Practice makes perfect, whether it’s a slap shot or helping a guy find his prostate.

From there, it’s a domino effect. A cascade pouring on top of champagne flutes. A power play. Hayden’s kind enough to rapidly strum his thumb over Ilya’s clit, and it’s enough to get him his second orgasm of the morning, this time Shane’s thighs getting clenched when Jackie’s body seeks to root itself through climax. Jackie uses Ilya’s unstoppable moan to invigorate herself with the way she’s touching her husband, and Shane has enough prostate sensitivity that Hayden’s about to bust moments after she truly goes for it. Pregnancy isn’t a thing that can happen to PQs on March third, there’s never been a single recorded case, how could there be when the uterus disappears after twenty four hours, so there’s no reason for Hayden to move his cock from Ilya’s pussy before he shoots. It’s lucky the Pikes only have four children, honestly. Ilya might not be a bottom but he’s always loved a comeshot, has swallowed since the first time he had a dick in his mouth, and is happy to let Shane land his wherever he wants. The warm jizz blasting against his throbbing spent pussy is a punch of lust Ilya didn’t expect, and it makes him twist his head to bite the inner curve of Shane’s asscheek. Which is enough to trigger his orgasm, because Shane’s really and truly the perfect slut, and everything Ilya could ever want. Anything else is just a bonus.

Jackie, wearing Ilya’s body, is the last to come. She doesn’t know any of their history, but she stands there and strokes her cock for interested parties to watch, and Ilya can practically smell the locker room soap, hear the water pattering down. Shane, now collapsed to his side, is watching. Shane’s body is watching, because Hayden can probably see through the facade to see his wife’s climax. And Ilya is watching, because it’s hitting him hard now, where they started and where they’ve ended up. Jackie comes across Ilya’s broken and set and broken and reset knuckles, left hand grabbing her pec, and all Ilya can feel is satisfaction.

Much to Ilya’s chagrin, the Pikes don’t recline to the bed. Ilya’s cozy with his head on Shane’s hip, content to stay here at least until the sweat dries, but within a minute Hayden’s reaching for the wet wipes and Jackie picks up the tank top she came in wearing.

“You’ll feel better if you shower,” Shane informs Hayden, matter of fact. Because of course Shane’s been in his sensitized skin all his life, while Hayden’s only had it for an hour or two, not long enough to develop his own workarounds beyond what he’s noticed Shane doing over the years.

“Yeah. Okay. Good.”

“We should all shower,” he continues.

“Noooo,” Ilya whines. He doesn’t want showers and clean clothes and seperation. He wants cuddles.

“Have you had your breakfast yet?” Jackie asks.

Shane scoffs. “I haven’t been out of my bed yet. This bed has been a roller coaster today.”

“So showers, then breakfast?” Hayden attempts to corral. Must be parenting instinct, same as being able to go from sex dazed to on top of things, if they’re only finding tiny pockets of marital bliss before taking care of four under tens.

“If you can find anything in his miserable pantry worth eating.” Ilya has half a mind to SkipTheDishes a bag of egg McMuffins. He knows how to prep some of Shane’s least bad recipes, but it’s been a crazy morning. He wants bacon and enough grease to make wrappers translucent.

“Oh, Jackie can cook anything, even Shane’s bird food,” Hayden answers confidently.

“You’ll have to show me,” Ilya answers. Maybe it’ll be the first non-orgasmic Power Quad perk, Jackie knowing how to make Shane’s tastebuds a little less sad. The first of many, hopefully. The universe owes him that, if he’s not getting Sveta.