Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories:

F/M, M/M, Multi

Fandom:

Heated Rivalry (TV)

Relationships:

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

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Rose Landry, Miles (Game Changers)

Additional Tags:

End Game Hollanov, Internalized Homophobia, Shane doing his best to find a scenario in which he could be straight, Crack Treated Seriously, Threesomes, Getting Together, everyone having horny thoughts all the time, Rose pov, Explicit Sex, conversations about sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Shane Hollander getting the dick and zoning tf out from anything else, Takes a while for rose/shane breakup but it happens, Endgame Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Dom/sub Undertones, No romance between anyone except for hollanov, Ilya Bad Coping Decisions Rozanov, Shane Avoidance Issues Hollander, Miles is only in this as a prop really I am sorry Miles

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-06-29 Completed: 2026-07-03 Words: 17,914 Chapters: 3/3

A Roz by Any Other Name

Summary

“I think. Maybe we try a threesome,” Rose said. Watched as Shane’s face underwent so many expressions at once she worried for a half second he might be having a stroke.

When his face had calmed down, chosen one expression - something bland and rigid - Shane spoke. “Um,” he said. “I. I’m not sure sure if. If that’s what you want, yes, we can, of course. I just don’t think that will. Having another. Woman. There. Would help my. Performance?”

She nodded, squeezed his hand. “I wasn’t thinking of another woman,” she said, interested to see if this would be more or less panic inducing for Shane. “I was thinking a guy. I know Miles would be interested.”

Rose begins her break up/you are gay talk with Shane, and Shane derails it in a last ditch attempt at proving to himself that he can be what he thinks he should be. They agree to give their relationship another go, and are ridiculous about it.

Notes

hi i wrote this all in one sitting and it's now nearly 2 in the morning so im posting and going to bed. As always it is unedited, fresh, raw, wriggling :))))

(if there are any huge big typos that make reading this hard, let me know and i'll fix it in the morning x)

Chapter 1

Shane was just not getting it. Which did track. Rose liked Shane a lot; he was funny, and nice, and hot, and he was very clever, it was just that he put possibly 98% of his cleverness into hockey. He liked things to be clear, and he liked things to work, and she liked him enough to make things clear even if they couldn’t make things work. 

“I don’t think I’m going about this the right way,” she said, winced a little at Shane’s expression.

“Going about what?” 

She looked at him for a long moment, and then shuffled forwards in her chair and leaned over the table to take his hand. Spoke quietly; “I really like you Shane -”

He blinked at her. He really did have beautiful eyes. “I like you too-?” 

It would have been funny if it wasn’t so sad. Rose shook her head a little, tried to buckle in even though she could tell that Shane was doing his best to get out of the topic. She spoke before Shane could try and derail the conversation. “But I have a feeling that maybe I’m not doing it for you?” 

“No. Yes you are -” 

She spoke over him, because she was pretty sure he was just going to talk himself into various corners if she let him. She needed to get to her point quickly. “I know you like talking to me -”

“Yeah -”

“Do you like kissing me?”

“Sure.” 

Shane looked like he regretted his answer immediately, and like he was imagining being swallowed up by a hole in the ground. She tried to take a little pity on him by not laughing outright. “Wow,” she said, couldn’t help but sound a little amused. 

“No, no. Of course I do, sorry,” Shane said, all in a rush. He was starting to look both a little glazed over and a little like he did in his hockey interviews. Hollander, rather than Shane. 

She opened her mouth to tell him it was fine - because well. She would be offended if she wasn’t so certain that he was gay. She knew she was a good kisser and everything, he just very obviously was not interested in kissing her. He got in first. 

“I just - I - I know this is about,” he cleared his throat and then lowered his voice further, glancing around before speaking. “Sex,” he whispered. His eyes closed briefly, and then he hurried on. “I know I’m - it’s not your fault that I’m - but I can work on it. I really like you, Rose, and I - I’ve never. I would like to try and make it work with you.” 

She hadn’t been expecting this. His initial awkward negations were all par for the course of him trying not to offend her, but - 

“Could we. Could we talk about this some more?” Shane asked. He was still holding her hand, rubbed his thumb against the base of hers. It was nice. “Maybe not in public?”

-

Shane’s apartment was nice. So clean he had to have a cleaner, and chic in a way that didn’t really match him. She suspected an interior designer had done this, and had thoughts about who she should suggest instead. 

He got them both drinks from his fridge - beers - which he uncapped before giving her one, and putting the other one down on the table in front of his own chair. He did not sit. 

“So,” she said. Took a sip of the beer. It was nice stuff, not her favourite, but good. “I’m just going to say it straight up -” (that was not meant to be a pun) “-because I feel like, maybe, we both have the wrong ends of the sticks here?” 

Shane did not sit down. He nodded. 

“I, well,” she said. “I guess I was starting to be… under the impression that you were gay. Which - I know that’s something that’s like, unheard of in hockey, which is dumb, but. Yeah.” 

He blinked owlishly at her. He didn’t look shocked, but the expression in his eyes was something similar to it. Horror? Fear? She couldn’t tell before he blinked again, washing the look away and replacing it with something wetter. 

“Oh,” he said. 

“It’s fine,” she said quickly, put her beer down. “Honestly, Shane - if you are, that’s fine. And if you’re not - I mean, also fine, I just -”

“I’m definitely. Um. A bit gay,” Shane said. His eyes seemed to be fixed on the air above her left shoulder. “I - but I - I like you. A lot. Enough that I want to - want to work on it. To make it, well, work.” 

Rose took another mouthful of her beer. Fiddled with the label. Eyed Shane up curiously. Couldn’t figure him out. 

“You like me,” she said, held up her hand when he opened his mouth as if to speak again, and continued; “romantically? Sexually? Do you, uh, find me attractive?” 

“You are attractive,” Shane said immediately. He sighed, and then pulled his chair out quickly and dropped himself down into it. His hands attached themselves to the edge of the table immediately, white knuckled, like he had to hold himself down. “Yes. Of course I find you attractive, Rose, I - I’m not blind. And I - I like doing. Romantic things with you. I like holding your hand, um, and like. Cuddling. And, um. Going out together. I like you.” 

She narrowed her eyes, reached across the table top like she had earlier that evening, and smiled when he took her hand immediately. 

“But you’re not sexually into me?” 

She watched with interest as Shane looked away, his adam’s apple bobbing hard as he swallowed on nothing with an audible gulp. 

“I - I don’t - I don’t think I’m sexually attracted to, uh, most people?” 

If it wouldn’t embarrass Shane so much, as well as being a breach of his privacy, Rose would fucking love to be live tweeting this conversation.

“By most people,” she said, as gently as she could, “do you mean women?” 

“I - no - I mean. I mean, historically, the - the people I have been sexually attracted to have been - been mostly male. But I’m just not. To most people.”

She wondered if ‘mostly male’ was the understatement of the century, but she was willing to let it go for now. “Okay,” she said. “So, like. Maybe some tye of demisexuality, yeah?”

He blinked at her like she had started speaking russian or something. Oh yeah. 98% of hs smarts were taken up with hockey. “It’s like, some people only feel sexual attraction to other people after they know them and feel safe with them? Or, I don’t know. People are different. I’m attracted to a lot of people, and my body is as well, so when I like somebody it’s all linked up.” 

He blinked at her again, this time with more comprehension. Nodded. Bit at his lip. 

“Would it be okay,” he started, quiet, “if. We keep trying us? We can have sex. I’ll work on it. Maybe I’ll - maybe I’ll start feeling the - what I’m supposed to feel. But even if I don’t, I could still. Um. Make you feel good?” 

He hadn’t been amazing in bed, but it hadn’t been bad exactly. He had managed to get her off with his mouth on her pussy after trying and failing to keep himself hard for long enough to properly fuck her. She could see him putting in the work. Learning exactly how to finger her. Maybe they could work it out. Maybe she should get a strap and they could take turns fucking each other with it. Except. She was still pretty sure he was… like, fully, super gay. And in denial. And how cruel would it be of her to let him drag this out? 

“Please,” he said. More a whisper than anything. His eyes were on her now, not hovering over her shoulder, or darting off into the middle distance. “I want to make this work. If it’s - if the reason you wanted to break up was just because you thought I wasn’t in to you, then. Please, let’s work it out.”

Ugh. He was so hot, too. And he kissed so well. 

“We can try,” she said, felt a wrenching in her chest as she watched a singular tear slip down the side of his face. “Shane. I - I don’t want to lie to you. I still - I still think that, maybe you’re confused. About what you want. But I’m not you, I’m not in your head, and I really like you. So. If - you want to - to try this out?” 

He nodded, very firm. Lifted his white knuckled hand from the edge of the table to swipe the tear off the side of his face. 

“Okay,” she said slowly. Took another drink of beer. Swilled it around in her mouth before swallowing. “Than I have a - a request.” 

“Anything,” Shane said, too immediate. He still hadn’t touched his beer. She didn’t think he would. 

“I think. Maybe we try a threesome,” Rose said. Watched as Shane’s face underwent so many expressions at once she worried for a half second he might be having a stroke. 

When his face had calmed down, chosen one expression - something bland and rigid - Shane spoke. “Um,” he said. “I. I’m not sure sure if. If that’s what you want, yes, we can, of course. I just don’t think that will. Having another. Woman. There. Would help my. Performance?” 

She nodded, squeezed his hand. “I wasn’t thinking of another woman,” she said, interested to see if this would be more or less panic inducing for Shane. “I was thinking a guy. I know Miles would be interested.” 

Shane’s face slipped from bland to shocked to bland again. He cleared his throat. “Miles?” 

“Mhm,” Rose nodded. “I mean, obviously he wouldn’t be into me during the sex, but we’ve kissed before, and that’s fun, so it wouldn’t all be on you.” 

“Oh,” Shane said. 

“We don’t have to,” Rose offered. She kept squeezing his hand, intermittent like she was trying to pump him up. He was so slumped over he probably needed it. “It’s just an idea, Shane. Just - trying to think of ways to help us figure out what it is you need.” 

He nodded. He had his free hand pressed over his eyes now, mouth a firm line beneath it. 

They sat in silence for a few long moments. Shane breathing slow and steady like he was timing each breath. He may well be. Rose finished her beer, and swapped the bottle out with Shane’s. 

“If Miles agrees,” Shane said eventually, “I. Um. We could try that. Just. I’d want. I’d want the, um, parameters to be very clear.” 

“Okay,” Rose said. “I know plenty about intimacy coordinating, I love a script.” 

Shane snorted. 

-

They coordinated around Shane’s games. Rose knew he was going to be the most anxious one out of the three of them. So she wanted it to happen somewhere Shane felt comfortable, and sometime when he would have at least a day afterwards in which he wasn’t required to be being the captain. 

It had been a little awkward - mostly for Shane - working out the ‘parameters’, as he put it. Eking out information on what he felt comfortable doing, and what he definitely did not want to do. And then she shared it with Miles so they could work out a strategy that would best benefit all of them. 

Rose hadn’t been lying about loving a script. When she wasn’t memorising scripts she was thinking about her own. Ideally, at some point in the near future, she could pivot her career from being the constantly kidnapped it girl and do some really interesting works, and then also, maybe write some of her own. 

Miles was a little sad that Shane had so very firmly put penetration off the table. Rose was also a little sad. Less that he didn’t want to fuck her, and more that she wouldn’t get to watch him or Miles fuck each other. So sue her, she liked to watch. It would be a penetrationless event, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be fun anyway. Miles had cheered up significantly when she said that Shane had specifically requested to give him head. He also said he’d prep just in case Shane changed his mind and did want to fuck him, but Rose was pretty sure that was just not going to happen. 

-

Shane was very obviously nervous. Flushed and fidgety, standing behind the kitchen counter like it was a shield. They were having a casual drink to ease them all in to it, take the edge of a little. Nothing crazy, a gin and tonic that was much more tonic than gin. Miles was all relaxed lines, leaning on the counter opposite Shane, his hand loose on the marble top in easy touching distance if Shane were to ever release his painful looking grip on his glass. Miles had dressed to seduce - tight, sheer, black clothing with silver accoutrements. She was just in jeans and a tank because she didn’t plan on keeping them on for very long, and who here was she supposed to be seducing? Shane had already seen her in her sexy clothing and his dick had apparently had nothing of note to say about it. 

Shane was in his usual semi formal event outfit. A button up shirt and bland trousers. Lucky for him that he could still look so good with no fashion sense. Lucky for Miles that Shane was hot as fuck underneath the clothes. 

She had scripted out a very basic scenario, shared it with Shane, gotten the okay from him. It was just a guide, of course, but she didn’t doubt that he had memorised the entire thing. Maybe he had even blocked it out before they arrived. She couldn’t think about that or she’d laugh. She was expecting tonight to be the end of her and Shane’s ‘trying it out’. Because he would have such a stark difference between Miles and Rose, that it would have to be obvious to him. Right? She’d still get her pussy eaten, and get kissed, and get to watch Shane and Miles touch each other. 

“I’ve been looking forward to this,” Miles said. They had been conversing slowly about their respective days, had only just lapsed into a stilted silence. Rose had already finished her drink, Miles close to finishing. Shane had taken two sips so far. “Seriously, Shane, I was so jealous of Rose. I’ve always thought you’re so sexy.” 

Rose enjoyed watching Shane flush, so did Miles, according to his grin. 

“Oh,” Shane said. “I. Thanks? You’re sexy too.” 

Miles laughed, reached out to grasp Shane’s wrist lightly. “Flatterer,” he said. 

“You should hear him say how much he likes to kiss me,” Rose teased, winked at Shane. “Nervous, babe? You’re in good hands.” She reached out to take his other hand as she spoke. 

He let her take his hand, though his eyes were on Miles’ hand, his thumb rubbing languidly over the bumps of his wrist. “A little,” he said, slow, like his brains processing power had taken a hit. “I’m okay.” 

“Good,” Miles said, “I can’t wait to make you feel much more than okay. Do you want to finish your drink, or should we go to the bedroom now?” 

Shane’s eyes flicked to Rose’s, back to Miles’ hand, and then up to look fully at Miles. “I’m not really thirsty,” he said, “let’s. Let’s go to the bedroom.” 

When he came around the counter, Rose kissed him gently, hoping to be a reassuring presence. Kept her hand in his, and reached out with her other hand to take Miles’. 

-

“Um,” Shane said, once they were in the bedroom, Miles looking around with interest. “It wasn’t in the - the script - taking clothes off. So, could I take the off now? I’d like to - to have that bit done.” 

Jesus. Maybe Rose should remind Shane that he didn’t have to do any of this. Except -

“Go ahead, baby,” Miles said, gave Shane a long, lingering look, “that’s a good idea.” 

- Shane flushed again. Hadn’t stopped being pink before, but got pinker, and - Rose was unashamed to be keeping an eye on his crotch - he was hard. At least a little. 

“We’ll all get undressed now,” Rose said. She kissed Shane again, resisted the urge to press her palm to his crotch, “I hate having to wiggle my jeans off once I’m already in bed.” 

Shane looked relieved. Kissed Rose back, and then stepped away to start unbuttoning his shirt. Miles was grinning wide, had already stripped his own shirt off as he stepped forwards to give Rose a kiss as well, and then to lick her cheek like the flirt he was. Their one week of kind of dating before Miles came out as gay had been a lot less fruitful for Rose’s orgasms than with Shane, but he was always a fun time anyway. 

While she undressed - sort of funny having all three of them undressing themselves, sort of like a locker room - she watched as Shane folded his clothing. One article at a time, stacking them carefully on his dresser. 

“Cute,” Miles said. He was naked already, semi hard, “I like how tidy you are,” he added, when Shane looked up from where he had just put down his carefully folded underwear. “Can I kiss you?” 

That was in the script - this was the part where they were supposed to be breaking the ice between them by kissing each other, hands wandering over torsos. Easy stuff. Shane nodded. He didn’t look icy exactly, but he definitely needed something melted. 

Next to Shane Miles looked skinnier than he really was, his musculature dwarved by Shane’s working muscles and wide shoulders. Still, Miles looked like he wanted to devour Shane. Rose crawled onto the bed and up to the headboard before turning around to watch as Miles put his hand on Shane’s hip to tug him forwards just a little, another hand to Shane’s cheek. Kissed him. Very gentle and careful. Probably no tongue even, not yet. She dropped her eyes down and watched as Shane’s cock jerked in response. Ha. Hot. 

“Come to bed,” Miles said, he had obviously felt the jerk as well, his face all a smug smile. “I want to kiss you more, and so does Rose.” 

“Okay,” Shane said, let himself be lead by the hand to his own bed. Let himself be arranged on the mattress, sprawled between Rose and Miles. 

She kissed his cheek, and he turned to her, kissed her on the mouth, his tongue licking into her mouth, and she kissed him back happily, lifting one hand to cup his chin. His eyes were shut, but she was watching Miles, watching as he ran one hand across Shane’s chest, as he leaned in to press a kiss to the curve of Shane’s turned neck. Felt Shane’s breathing stutter as she watched Miles tongue press into the soft of Shane’s underjaw. 

Rose dropped her hand from Shane’s chin to join Miles’ on the inviting expanse of Shane’s bared abdomen. Dragged her hand down his stomach and up again, catching her nails purposefully against slight ridges of muscle tensing under her touch.

“Fuck,” Miles groaned, was still kissing at Shane’s neck like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. It might well be, Shane always tasted clean and warm. “God, you’re so hot, Shane, you feel so good.” 

Shane groaned as well, a small noise, one Rose hadn’t heard from him before. It sounded real. She broke off from the kiss despite the fact that Shane was kissing her so well, like he was actually into it. Kissed him again quickly when he blinked hazily up at her. 

“I’m going to start sucking your cock,” she whispered, kissed his nose, “okay? And I think Miles is dying to kiss you more.” 

“Okay,” Shane said, nodded. He lifted his hand to brush lightly at her cheek. “You’re good?”

“Yes babe,” she said, kissed him again for good luck. “I’m having fun.” She leaned over Shane now, tapping Miles on the cheek, and then kissed him as well. 

It was almost funny how much harder Shane’s cock was already. Usually by the time Rose brought herself eye level with it it was only begrudgingly not soft. She didn’t think it was fully hard now, but damn. Extra damn, as she positioned herself in between his legs, his hips rolled just once, and she had a close up view of his cock becoming visibly harder. She couldn’t tell if it was the anticipation of the blow job, or if it was due to the wet sounds she could hear from Miles kissing him, but it was still fun to see. 

His cock was hot and salty in her mouth, and he groaned again when she sucked at it. His hand landed in her hair, fingers tentative. 

To her right Miles was pulling Shane’s thigh up and between Miles’ thighs, spreading Shane’s legs wider, and that got another noise out of him. All these new noises she didn’t know he made. She kept her eyes open, got glimpses of Miles’ hand spreading wide over Shane’s pec, squeezing gently, felt the feedback in her mouth as salty pre, and smiled around her mouthful. 

“Fuck, baby,” Miles was saying, his thumb rubbing over Shane’s left nipple now, pushing shockwaves of twitches through Shane’s whole body, but especially his cock. “You like being kissed so much, huh? You’re so good at it. Your mouth is so hot -”

Shane made an incoherent noise, then, “Rose,” he gasped, “fuck that’s - fuck - yes I like kissing, don’t stop -” 

He might have been going to say something else, but Miles was fulfilling his command and was kissing him again. 

The script had not planned for an orgasm yet, and Shane was getting thicker and bigger in her mouth, and she wasn’t sure exactly how close he was to coming, because he’d not come in her mouth before. In fact, she was pretty sure he had just not come, the times he had told her he’d come while fucking her. She had suspected at the time, but it wasn’t like she was going to fish out and unknot the condoms from the rubbish and check them. Gross. 

She pulled off from Shane’s cock, kissed the tip of it, then licked underneath the head to watch it twitch in her grip. Shane had insane thighs. Like, muscled and thick, and when she pressed a kiss to the inside of the one spread out and caught between Miles’ thighs, he twitched all over and let out a breathless noise. Miles’ cock was also right there, but she and Miles had agreed that their genitals would be aquaintances with each others and only get friendly with Shane’s. His cock was much harder than Shane’s, straining against Shane’s hip, leaving shiny wet spots. 

“I think,” she said, kissed Shane’s thigh again, nibbled a little at the tensed tendon on view, “I think maybe it’s time I got your mouth on my clit, babe. Miles can take over down here, I think.” 

Shane made a muffled noise of acquiescence, and Miles broke their kiss with a very wet and enthusiastic sound. 

“Um,” Shane said, lifting himself up a little, his abdomen tensing, “it - the script - uh - positioning wasn’t clear. Do you want to sit on my face?” 

Rose was not one to turn down such an exclusive seat. His awkwardness should really not be as endearing as it was, but, fuck it was. 

“God yes,” Miles said, “and then I can stare at your pretty butt while I blow him,” he added, “sometimes I think you could be a cute twink, if you wanted it.” 

Rose giggled as she climbed up Shane’s body, coveting the moment she was straddling his waist and could feel his cock hard under her. “I’ll be a pretty twink for you, Miles,” she told him, winked. Kissed Shane. His lips were so wet, his cheeks pink. His flush had swept down his chest as well, his brown nipples flushed darker against pink skin. “Stare at my butt as much as you want.” 

“S’good butt,” Shane said, sounded a little dazed. He reached around to pat it, and she giggled more. “Nice.” 

She’d not sat on his face before, was slightly surprised he had suggested it, especially so easily. He guided her with his hands on her thighs, and when she hovered over him, with his words humid against her, he tugged her closer and said; “sit, Rose,” and she pushed more firmly down against him. His tongue was immediately pressing between her labia, wet and hot as he opened his mouth against her, and jesus. They should have asked Miles to the bedroom much sooner. 

She was pretty sure Miles had replaced her between Shane’s legs, but she didn’t have the wherewithal to check over her shoulder. Gripped the headboard as Shane wrapped his hands around her ass and rocked her into him. He was focusing on her clit, probably because that was what she had said to him, but every so often his tongue would flick over the entrance of her vagina and it felt way too good for an occasion in which they had all agreed to forgo penetration. Sad. But so hot. Fuck. 

She came much quicker than she expected to tonight, managed to wonder briefly as she came if Shane had researched this because it was so fucking good. Did he practice on a fruit, or something? Again, no pun intended. 

Shane hadn’t come yet, but when she had enough strength to pull herself up and off of Shane, Miles pulled off from Shane’s cock as well, and she could see that he must be close, if the throbbing pulse of it was to be trusted. 

“That was so good,” Rose told him, kissing at his mouth, licking at herself on him. He looked glazed, his chin was dripping. “You’re so fucking good, babe. Do you want to come now? Or do you want to make Miles come first?” 

Miles let out a low groan, and Rose watched as Shane’s eyes darkened as they darted down to look at him. Watched as Shane’s tongue darted out and licked at his lip. “Make Miles come,” he said, and Miles groaned again. 

Rose was happy to just watch now, grabbed one of Shane’s many pillows to prop under herself and watched as Shane all but shoved his way in between Miles’ legs and then swallowed him down like he had been fucking starving. 

It all happened very quickly. Rose got settled, watching the way Shane’s head was bobbing, his eyes closed, his shoulders relaxed, and then Miles was moaning in a shocked sort of way, his hands scrabbling in Shane’s hair. Rose could hear Shane swallowing, wet and loud, and she wasn’t very good at deep throating, so maybe she should get Shane to teach her, because he hadn’t even fucking hesitated. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, Shane,” Miles moaned, “holy fuck - you’re going to make me come - fuck -” 

If Rose hadn’t just come herself she would be reaching between her own legs again now. According to one of her (not gay) exes, she was kind of boring how she tended to like to be one and done. Really she just wanted to get to have a quick nap and then go again, but whatever, Ryan. She hoped he regretted having called her boring now she was on posters and magazines and tvs all over the place. 

Shane had pulled off most of the way, was still holding the head of Mile’s cock in his mouth as he used one hand to jerk the shaft, and the other to reach under to cup his balls. And look - Shane had done a great job at eating her out tonight, but he had never fondled her breasts the way he was that ballsack, and she felt that breasts were just objectively hotter than nuts. So. Shane was obviously having a fucking great time, his hips were rutting hard against the sheets, one of his legs pulled up slightly to give him some leverage. The noise he made when Miles came - partially in Shane’s mouth and mostly all over Shane’s face - was frankly insane. Like he had come instead of Miles. 

Which it turned out had happened. Not instead of, just as well as. 

“That is unfair,” Miles groaned, flopped back against the pillows, his chest heaving. “I wanted to get you off.” 

“I mean,” Shane said, he sounded shy, as if he hadn’t been deepthroating Miles mere moments ago. “You kind of got me off.” 

Miles groaned again. “Insanely hot,” he said. “Rose. He’s too hot. I’m going to steal him.” 

Honestly, if Miles stole him, that would be kind of great. Miles needed a nice boyfriend, and Shane was such a nice boyfriend. It would be fun to have two of her favourite friends together, easier to arrange hang outs too. 

“Mm, sorry Miles,” Shane said. He still sounded a little dazed, but steadier like his post nut clarity had been self affirming. “My puck’s locked down.” 

They both looked at Shane, who flushed and shook his head. “I mean,” he said, “that um. If this was hockey, and I was, uh, the puck that Miles was trying to steal, like, from, uh, you, right? That he’d have a hard time getting through, because my defence skills are like, not to brag but -” 

-

Rose had assumed, stupidly as it turned out, that Shane would draw the correct conclusion from their threesome, which was that he was obviously very, very attracted to men, and it was okay to be fully gay, rather than like, clinging on to any scrap of a possibility of liking a woman. 

And she wasn’t… she knew some people really did have separate romantic and sexual, uh, sexualities? Preferences? But this… when Shane held her hand and cuddled with her, it didn’t feel romantic. It felt nice, comfortable, but very friendly. She was pretty sure the most romantic they had ever been was when Shane put her hair up in a ponytail for her because her hands were full and she was too hot. 

Anyway. It turned out that what Shane took away from the threesome was not that having another man touching him was better than any sex with a woman, so much so that blowing Miles had made him come rutting against the fucking mattress, but rather that seeing as he had a good time having sex with Rose, it meant that actually he was ‘fixable’ - his fucking word - and could probably come to actually like it. 

He also admitted that he had watched several videos (read; porn) to research how best to have his face ridden, and had practiced his eaten out skills on a goddamn cantaloupe. 

Rose was fuming. She was also impressed. When he put his mind to something he could do fucking wonders, no wonder he killed it on the ice.  Now if only he would put his mind to the fact that he was gay. 

-

“But you came,” Shane said. He sounded confused. 

They were in Rose’s hotel room in New York because one of her interviews in New York somehow managed to coincide with a home game for the Admirals. She had gone to watch the game, and only felt mildly bad about how much the jumbotron loved her. She didn’t mind being Shane’s fake girlfriend, she just minded that he still hadn’t really realised she was his fake girlfriend. 

“Yes, I came,” Rose sighed, shook her head. “Hold your foot still,” she added. 

They were painting their toenails. Her foot was in his lap while he carefully painted her toenails dark blue, and his was in hers being painted with a clear polish with small light blue sparkles that he thought he could get away with in the locker room. She was onto his second foot because she was either much faster at it, or because she was much sloppier at it.

“It was great,” she added, when Shane stopped fidgeting, his foot tensing and then relaxing in her hand. “You did a great job, babe, really. But like, did you… enjoy doing it? Did the act of eating me out turn you on?” 

He paused. His head jerked slightly. He kept painting her toenails, slow, careful strokes. “I was also having my dick sucked,” he said quietly. “So I. It’s difficult to say.” 

“Think about it,” Rose said, she was thinking about it, her pussy throbbed, and she quickly filed the thoughts away. “Like. Imagine doing it right now and see how you feel.” 

“Um,” Shane said. He stared intently at her foot. Had just finished painting her pink toe. “I - I mean. It’s not a - I just played a game this morning so I’m - I’m tired, and. Um.” 

“It’s fine if it doesn’t turn you on, babe,” Rose said, “that’s what we’re trying to figure out. Not like, how to make you like it, but if you do like it.” 

Shane frowned. He put her foot down carefully and made a grabby hand for her other foot. She put it in his lap and he resumed his painting. Painted two of her nails before speaking again. 

“I was. I guess I was kind of under the impression that we were working on it,” he said. “On trying to make me like it.” 

Rose wanted to find Shane’s parents and ask them what the hell they did to raise Shane the way he was. The way he was, being, that he was so fucking terrified of being unable to perform heteronormativity. (She had been reading a lot of articles about it recently, to try and widen her arguments to Shane, and she liked the way heteronormativity sounded. Plus when she dropped it in conversations it scared away a lot of the annoying men.) Except she had asked Shane about his parents’ thoughts about the LGBTQ+ community, and he had said they donated to lots of charities for them, and then he had entirely changed the subject. Probably it was several coaches and rooms upon rooms of hockey players she needed to find and yell at. 

“I don’t want to make you like it,” she said, shoved her heel against the bone of Shane’s hip. “That’s - I’m not a fucking conversion camp, Shane.”

He cupped her heel with his non brush holding hand, held her foot still against him. “I know,” he said. “Sorry. I didn’t mean like - I know. I just - I worded it badly.” 

“Very,” Rose agreed. 

“I’m not. Ready,” Shane said. “To stop trying. But if you are. Rose - I’m so sorry that I’m - I don’t want to be wasting your time. I don’t want to have wasted it. I want it to be - I want it to work. I’m not trying to use you.” 

“Babe,” Rose sighed. Squeezed his foot in her hand, and then screwed the top of the sparkly polish back on, nails done. “I know. You’re not wasting my time. I like spending time with you. I don’t feel used. If anything, I - I feel like I’m using you. I mean, the way you learned how to eat me out? Amazing. But if you don’t like it at all, well, it’s less fun.” 

“Okay,” Shane said. Stared at her foot in his lap. Cleared his throat. “What if,” he said. “What if we tried again.” 

“Hm?” 

“With a different guy,” Shane mumbled. “Um. Someone who I. Maybe also have had. Romantic feelings for. I - never mind. I’m sorry, it’s -” 

“No, no sorries,” Rose said, leaning forward eagerly, and then shifting a little to make sure not to smudge Shane’s still drying sparkly nails. “I want to hear.”

Shane sighed. Glanced up at her, brow furrowed. “It’s. I thought. Maybe if. Okay. So maybe it’s obvious that I - that I, sexually, prefer men. But, just because I was more attracted to Miles - uh sexually - didn’t mean that I was more comfortable with him. Or felt anything else for him. Besides, uh, friendship? Sorry. What I’m trying to say is that maybe if we. Experimented. With someone who I know already that I have. Feelings for. Romantic, maybe, feelings. It would be. Easier? To compare? It’s stupid. I know it is. I’m just - fuck, Rose. It’s stupid, right?” 

It was stupid. 

“Yes,” Rose said. “I mean. Yes, but like. Not the stupidest thing I’ve heard. And. Maybe,” she paused and raised her eyebrows at him. 

“Maybe?” He asked, raising his eyebrows back at her. 

“Maybe it won’t be a comparison,” she said, shrugged. “Maybe it’ll be two separate things. Like. Sex with a friend, and sex with… someone you have feelings for.” 

Shane blinked. He still had one toe left to paint. Had paused with the brush tucked back in the bottle so it wouldn’t dry out or drip, because he had been worried about both of those scenarios. 

“Who is he?” Rose asked. 

Shane ducked his head. “I - maybe I shouldn’t. Shouldn’t say until I’ve talked to him. Because he’s not out, so if he says - if he says no, it wouldn’t be fair that you already know about him. If he says yes, then, I mean, he’s obviously okay with you knowing.” 

“Okay,” she nodded. “I get it. But like, tell me, you’ve… slept with him before?” 

Keeping his head down, Shane nodded, just a little. 

“And it was… good?” 

“Yeah,” Shane breathed, laughed a little. “It was always really good.” 

Would it be awkward to squeeze for more details? Maybe. For Shane. Rose would fucking love to know more about the kind of sex that had Shane sounding that happy. 

“I don’t know if - I kind of left it on a bad note, though,” Shane added, before Rose could push for me. “Left him. On a bad note.” 

“Left him? You were dating?” 

“No,” Shane shook his head. He was painting her last nail now, slow and steady. “We were never - for years we were just. Hooking up. And then, the last time, it was. Different. And I freaked out. And left. And we haven’t really spoken since.” 

A lot less fun. “Oh,” she said. Grimaced at him across their laps. “I’m sorry. What was different?” 

“Um,” Shane capped the nailpolish again, moving slowly as he thought. “Like he liked me. For real. Like he - like it wasn’t just sex.” 

“Was it just sex?” Rose asked, intrigued. She flexed her toes carefully, and Shane squeezed the arch of her foot. 

Another long pause. “Not for me,” he admitted eventually. “It was. At first. And at some point. I guess I wanted more. I knew I couldn’t, like, actually ever have it, though, so I didn’t. I didn’t ask, and I didn’t say.”

“Why couldn’t you have it?” She watched Shane flinch slightly, “was it - like - um. Is he married?”

“No, no,” Shane said coughed like he was choking on his words. “No. Just. He’s another player. And. Our careers are really important to us. It feels, um, impossible, that we could like. Date, or whatever, openly, and still be able to play where we are without facing serious backlash. Not that he wanted to date me. Really. He - he’s always hooking up with people. I know I was just one on his - his roster, but like. Yeah. Sorry. I shouldn’t. I can’t talk about him right now. Is that okay?”

“‘Course,” Rose said, quick. “Are my nails dry yet?” 

-

Shane calls her a week later while she’s in hair and makeup. She’s having her hands painted as well, so Louise - one of her favourite make up techs - puts her headphones in for her and swipes on the phone to answer the call. 

“Thanks Lou,” Rose mouthed, grinned as Lou mouthed You’re welcome back, and then said, “Hi Shane, everything okay, babe?” 

“Hi,” Shane said. He always sounded a little weird on the phone, a little more formal. “Um. Is now an okay time to talk? About, um, our plans?” 

“Ooh,” Rose grinned, was very pleased for the headphones. Not that Louise would ever spill anything she heard in here, but because she knew Shane would probably have a conniption if he knew anyone overheard what he was about to talk about. “Yes. Absolutely.” 

“Okay,” Shane said. Sighed. “Okay. Um. How are you? Sorry. Hi. You’re doing okay?” 

“Hi babe,” Rose said, smiled, “yes, I’m good. Looking forward to hearing about the plans. You sound nervous, though.” 

“Yeah,” Shane cleared his throat. “Sorry. Good. Okay. So, I texted him. Last week. Um. And.” He cleared his throat again. “Sorry. He called me back. This morning. To say yes. So. Yeah. He. Um, he suggested we could do it over All Stars Weekend. Because we’ll both be in the area anyway, and it wouldn’t be weird if you came too, so we could. Meet up. There.” 

“Okay,” Rose mentally checked her calendar. She knew All Stars Weekend was a big hockey thing, Shane hadn’t asked her to come, but he had mentioned it. She was pretty sure it was this coming weekend - haha, coming weekend. “This weekend?” 

“Mm. Yes.” 

“I’m free,” Rose decided. There was supposed to be a meeting on Saturday afternoon, but she could ditch it. “Soooo, can I know now?” 

A long pause. It sounded like Shane was taking calming breaths. She waited. 

“You’ve probably heard of him,” Shane hedged, “um, and, so I just wanted to say beforehand that like. His reputation is kind of true, but he’s not - he’s not an asshole asshole.” 

“Shane,” Rose snorted, “just tell me.” 

“Rozanov,” Shane mumbled, “Um. Ilya Rozanov. He’s the - the forward the centre for Boston? Um. He’s Russian. He -” 

“Babe,” Rose cut in, “yes. I know who he is. Wow. Really?” 

“Mhm.” 

“He is pretty sexy,” she said after a moment. “I can see the appeal.” 

“Mm.” Shane sounded strained. 

“So,” Rose took pity on him. “Do you want a plan like last time?”

“I don’t know,” Shane sighed. “Maybe? Yes? It’s never been - when I’ve been with him before it’s always just. I think yes. But, not the same things. Because I - fuck. I want him to fuck me. Is that okay?” 

Rose sent up a quick thanks to whatever horndog god was answering prayers today. “That’s absolutely okay,” she said, managed not to sound too excited about it. “Um, anything else?” 

“Um,” Shane made an odd noise, then cleared his throat. “Yes. I thought. So. I was doing some more, um. Research -” (Watching porn, Rose filled in) “- and I thought. Maybe. If. I fuck you. While he fucks me. Sorry. It sounds, um, crass.” 

“It sounds hot,” Rose corrected him, wondered what Louise thought she and Shane were talking about as she made eye contact with her and the both of them raised their eyebrows with matching grins. “I’m down for that. Anything else from your… research?” 

“Shut up,” Shane mumbled, but he laughed as well. “I - that was the main thing. I did think - briefly - about having you, um, fuck me as well, just for - for keeping it on the same level, but - I don’t think I… want that?”

Rose waved sadly goodbye to her thoughts of pegging Shane. “Well if you don’t want to, we don’t do it,” she said evenly. “Besides, that would probably be a lot for you, so-”

“It wouldn’t,” Shane said, as if it was an after thought, and then coughed loudly. “I mean. Yeah. So. Um. Do you want me to, like, ask him anything for you? Or. Anything.” 

“Mm. Could I have his number? We could do a group text chat to coordinate?” 

“Um,” Shane sounded a lot more hesitant over this than anything else. “Yes? He, um. Sometimes isn’t good with texting. But. I’ll text you his number, and I’ll text him yours and let him know I gave you his. So. Yeah.” 

“Sounds good,” Rose said. She was very excited for when she was allowed to use her hands again and could start sending texts to a very surprising answer for maybe having Shane realise he was in fact super gay. “Good. Tell me about your week, babe.” 

-

PARTY PLANNING

You, Shane Hollander <3, I. Rozanov

YOU: Hi Ilya, (and shane :-*) just wanted to say I’m excited for Friday night! I’m going to book a hotel room a little away from all the ASG stuff, and thought that might be the best bet to have our party? 

I.ROZANOV: Hello Rose Landry. party at your hotel room is best, yes. will there be bouncer?

YOU: Ohhh, cause it’s a party. Haha. Nah I think our event is private enough to go un-crashed.

I.ROZANOV: Maybe not a real party but I will still bring wrapped gift for Shane. 

YOU: Lollllllll amazing

SHANE HOLL-: What? Why would you bring me a present?
                          Oh. It’s your dick, isn’t it.

I.ROZANOV: My dick is best present, hollander. whenever i give to you you are so happy. remember time you begged for present and then cried with how nice it was?

SHANE HOLL-: Oh my god shut up rozanov what the fuck.

YOU: Oh my god do not shut up. Shane, you didn’t tell me he was funny. 

SHANE HOLL-: He isn’t funny. He’s being a dick. 

I.ROZANOV: hmmmmmm, you do not like my dick? you do not want me to bring my dick to you? maybe I keep it for Rose Landry instead. she appreciates my joke, and when she sees it, will also my dick. 

-

SHANE HOLLANDER: I’m sorry about him.

YOU: Honestly babe, I’m kind of enjoying myself. Is he always like this? 

SHANE HOLLANDER: Yes. 

YOU: You like it, don’t you?

SHANE HOLLANDER: Yes. 

-

PARTY PLANNING

You, Shane Hollander, I. Rozanov

YOU: I’ll let you know how impressed I am about your dick after I see how you use it on Shane :)) 

-

Probably she and Shane shouldn’t have flown in together because it really brought the paps out, but it was worth it for how being able to calm Shane’s nerves. 

He was way more nervous than he had been for the threesome with Miles, which was weird, right, because he had had sex with Ilya before. Rose felt for sure that Shane was severely downplaying the feelings he had for Ilya. She was probably being a bad friend, for how excited she was to see how this would play out. 

“We can always cancel,” she reminded him, doing her best to outweigh her bad friendness. “Anytime, yeah?” 

“No,” Shane shook his head despite the fact that he looked inches from throwing up in the car taking them from the airport to her hotel. “I want to do this. Um. But if you want to cancel, that’s - of course that’s -” 

“I don’t,” Rose said, “I’m looking forward to it. But you seem, like, freaked?” 

“I am,” Shane said. Swallowed hard. Glanced at the driver ignoring them in the front of the car. “But I’m - I’m looking forward to it too.” 

“Mm,” Rose nodded, dropped her voice low and leaned in to speak into Shane’s ear, “getting fucked?” 

Shane’s body twitched, but he didn’t move away, didn’t move at all, except for his eyes darting from her to the driver and back again. 

“Yes,” he said eventually, very quiet. 

“You prefer it that way?” Rose asked. They were holding hands across the middle seat, and his fingers twitched against hers. 

“Yeah,” he sighed. “It’s not that I - that I hate doing it the, uh, the other way. I just. Prefer.” 

“I get it,” she said. “Sorry I couldn’t provide. I mean, I thought about maybe buying, a, hmm, implement, but I’m not sure I have the stamina, honestly.” 

Shane laughed, closed his eyes. Spoke quietly. “Yeah it’s - um. The way I like it does, does require a lot of stamina.” 

This was fantastic. Rose laughed as well, “good thing you’re both athletes,” she pointed out, “or you’d be fucked. Or not, actually.” 

He laughed again. 

-

They had sent more messages in their group chat - mostly information like hotel name, room, and flight times. Ilya had also messaged several times to ask if Shane would like the bubblegum or the blueberry flavoured condoms better, to which Shane had replied saying neither. Ilya messaged again now, a simple message saying he’d arrived at the hotel and was on his way up. He had also attached a gif of the shark from Jaws. 

Rose found that amusing, Shane pressed his face into a wall and breathed loudly. He was dressed down more than he had been with Miles. Wearing a pair of sweats and a black t-shirt and a very uncomfortable expression. She would think he was constipated, except for the fact that he had informed her, a little testily, that he had thoroughly prepped already and no, he would not like an icecream. She would have asked him about his prepping routine if it wasn’t for the everything his face was doing. 

She was also dressed down, wearing a t-shirt dress, her hair up in a braided bun to keep it out of her face. Also lady bug socks. Shane was socked as well - his usual boring white ones - and when Ilya knocked on the door she had been trying to persuade him to take them off to show off his sparkly toes. 

He jolted at the knock, his eyes widening at her, and she widened her eyes back at him. 

“Answer it,” he whispered to her, waving one hand at the door, the other hand gripping his upper arm tightly. 

“You answer it,” she hissed back. He hesitated, and she said; “take off your socks and I’ll answer it.” 

Shane hesitated a bare second more, and then he was standing on one foot and pulling his sock off, so she got up and crossed the room to the door. 

Ilya was leaning against the wall by the door with an excess of casualness. He had a small shoulder bag, and was also in sweats and a t-shirt, although his were branded. 

“Rose Landry,” he said, which was weird of him to always be using her full name. “Is good to meet you.” 

“Ilya Rozanov,” she retorted, smiled at him, and took a step back into the room, opening the door wider as she did. “Please come in.” 

He did, and she shut the door behind him, and then in response to Shane’s panicked look, drew the latch as well. 

“Oh I see,” Ilya said, scoffed slightly. He was kicking his shoes off by the door. “Is he always as paranoid with your or is it just for me?” 

“It’s my fault,” Rose offered lightly, “I’m too famous, you see. So many paps want my photo, I have to be careful. Imagine if they got a photo of me all dressed down, I’d be in the fashion failure blogs for weeks.” 

Ilya laughed, just a short noise. He had been staring at Shane, but he pulled his gaze away from him now to watch Rose walk back into the room. “I brought more gift,” he said, “other than the one special for Hollander.” 

Shane made a small noise. Ilya held out the bag to Rose, and she took it to peer inside. 

“Vodka,” Ilya narrated, as she pulled things out. “For after, as recovery medicine either from being fucked so good, or for having terrible time. Probably for being fucked so good, though. Ah, ginger ale. You know Sh- Hollander is boring man, this is for him while we are having fun getting drunk. Should put in little fridge to get cold. Non flavour condoms, again, because your boyfriend is boring, boring man. Those are ones for me, I assume you bring his ones with you. Good lube, is best. Ah, and this is for you, in case Hollander cannot get you there.”

That last one was about a plastic encased vibrator. She snorted loudly. 

“Asshole,” she said, “thank you. It can join my collection. Not that he can’t get me off, but for when he’s not there.” 

He might be gay, but she was still going to defend his skills. Even if on the most part they were absolutely nothing to write home about. 

“Shane,” Shane blurted out then.

Both Rose and Ilya turned to look at him, Ilya taking a half step forwards. 

“What?” Rose asked, though she didn’t think he was talking to her. Possibly he was having a weird episode or something, but she thought more likely this was due to Ilya calling him -

“Don’t - don’t call me Hollander. I - Ilya. Please. Just call me Shane.” 

For some reason this made Ilya’s face spasm, made him swallow hard, made him frown heavily at Shane. 

“Oh?” He said, his accent suddenly much heavier than it had been a moment ago. “And you will stay? Would be bad manners to run out again, Shane.” 

Shane exhaled heavily, but didn’t look pissed off, unlike Ilya. He nodded. Looked somehow much more settled than he had before. 

“I won’t,” he said. “I shouldn’t have, before.” 

Ilya blinked at him, and then shook his head once, and turned back to Rose. “Do we have greeting ceremony to go through?” He asked, “or would you like to be kissed now?” 

“Hm,” Rose looked from Ilya to Shane. Shane was still standing where he was when Ilya had come in. Just out of arms reach from where she was now. He kept glancing to the side. He’d thrown the socks in the direction of his bag on a chair against the wall, and they were lying on the floor underneath them. “What do you think, babe? Should he kiss me now?” 

“Um,” Shane said. “If. If you want.” 

Rose wanted Shane to do what if wanted, and if that included going to pick up his silly socks to put the away, he should just do that. And as it obviously included getting to be the one to kiss Ilya first, he should just say that. 

“Maybe I want to get warmed up first,” she said. Shane had decided he didn’t want a script for tonight, and she hadn’t expected to want one herself. “Maybe I’ll sit on the bed over here and watch you two take each others’ clothes off.” 

“Maybe you should, yes,” Ilya said. “Maybe you tell Shane what to do. He likes that. Makes him so pretty and wet.” 

Shane didn’t say anything, even when Rose let out a soft laugh, moving to go climb onto the bed. She left the bag of gifts on the small table at the end of the bed. She was looking forward to seeing Shane getting pretty and… wet? 

“Go on then, Shane,” Rose said gently. His eyes flickered to her and away again. “Kiss Ilya.” 

She sat cross legged on the end of the bed and watched as Shane crossed the distance between him and Ilya in one short hurried movement, his hands coming up to touch, and then hesitating a moment before touching Ilya. And then Ilya was grabbing Shane, one hand at his nape, the other on the small of his back, and he dragged him in for a kiss. 

It was like she could feel the collision in her throat. It was an audibly hard kiss, a moment where teeth clashed, lips already wet and noisy with it. And Shane, already moaning into the kiss like just this was as good as having his dick sucked. 

“Fuck,” she heard Ilya hissing between biting kisses, “fuck, bylat, Shane -” 

She had kind of been joking about the warming up thing, but she would not deny that she was getting wet about this. 

“Shane,” she called, soft, “take Ilya’s shirt off.” 

Shane didn’t respond verbally, but his hands flew to the bottom of Ilya’s shirt, and he stripped it off him quickly, Ilya weaving his arms in and out of the way to keep grabbing at Shane, to start pulling Shane’s shirt off as well. 

“Fold it,” Ilya said, barely audible. He pulled away from Shane’s mouth, pressing his hand to Shane’s now bare chest to hold him back. 

For a moment Shane just swayed, and then he was folding Ilya’s shirt carefully, turning to put it down on the table with the bag, and then took the his own shirt from Ilya, and folded that as well. Rose watched with fascination. She wondered if there was a section of like, tidying porn? Maybe she’d be into that. 

“Take off his pants, and fold those too, babe,” Rose said, once Shane had put his own shirt down and looked suddenly lost. “Get naked.” 

“Mm, yes,” Ilya murmured, “good game plan - oh, hm, what dow e think, Rose Landry?” 

Shane had reached out to grab the waistband of Ilya’s sweats, and while he had pulled them down, he had also dropped to his knees and pressed his forehead against Ilya’s lower stomach. If Rose was a director, this would be her award winning porno. 

“Let him have it,” Rose said, the words coming out of her mouth without a thought. Shane’s eyes were closed, his hands still gripping the sweats around Ilya’s ankles. “He wants it so badly.” 

“He does,” Ilya said, “such a greedy slut for my cock, always.” 

Shane made a noise that might have been disapproval, but Rose was willing to beat money it was more him being turned the fuck on. 

“Tell him he can have it,” Rose said. She hadn’t been sure Ilya would be okay with her telling him what to do, but there had been no complaints so far. 

“Go on, lyubimyy,” Ilya said, his voice rough. “Fuck you want it so bad, yes? Finish undressing me and then you can have it.” 

Shane pressed a wet sounding kiss to Ilya’s lower stomach, and without moving his head, pulled his hands up to hook on Ilya’s underwear waistband as well, pulled them down, and then with one hand lifting Ilya’s socked feet, untangled the clothes from Ilya’s legs. Still on his knees, he folded the sweats, and then the underwear, and handed them one by one to Ilya, who put them on the table with the other clothes. 

Ilya’s cock had bounced out of his underwear with extreme enthusiasm, and Rose had to admit she was already a little impressed. Long, girthy, and already hard. Much bigger than Miles. No wonder Shane had been able to take him in his mouth so easily. She was never telling Miles this. 

Shane reached for Ilya’s cock now, and Ilya’s hand darted down and batted him away, resulting in Shane making a soft and pathetic noise that was also entirely new to Rose. 

“Socks,” Ilya said, his voice calm until you noticed the shake of his jaw. “I am not undressed yet. Be good for us, Shane.”

Shane shuddered, and then he was reaching immediately back to Ilya’s feet, lifting them like he had before, and pulling the socks off one by one. He folded them together, handed them to Ilya, and then just looked up at him, mouth open. 

“Da,” Ilya said. It was like Rose wasn’t in the room, she felt like she ought to hold her breath. “So good for me. I give you gift, hm? Open wider.” 

Shane obeyed, his mouth dropping open further, his tongue sticking out, and Ilya reached down to take his cock in one hand, firm around his base. His other hand dropped to brush against Shane’s cheek, to press his thumb into Shane’s mouth, and then to curve back around Shane’s nape before he tilted Shane’s head and fed his cock into his mouth. 

“All of it?” Ilya asked, “Rose Landry?” 

Rose had kind of forgotten that she existed. “Uh,” she said, “can he take it?” 

Shane already had more than half of Ilya’s cock in his mouth, his jaw stretched wide, his eyes closed. 

“He can take,” Ilya said, his thumb stroked under Shane’s ear, very gentle next to the sight of his cock holding Shane’s mouth open. “I give?” 

Shane was still wearing his sweats, but they were no match to the hard on he wore underneath. He looked very much like he wanted it. “Yeah,” she said, “give it to him.” 

Shane choked a little, or, maybe didn’t choke, just made a noise like a precursor to choking, and then he was swallowing hard and loud, and Ilya was swearing under his breath. She could see him in Shane’s throat. They watched in silence as Shane’s face got pinker, as tears dripped out of his eyes. As he made no move at all to pull away. She was about to say Ilya should pull out right when he did. This was one of the wettest noises she’d ever heard, and Shane sounded a little like he was choking again, coughed a little as Ilya pulled his cock fully out of Shane’s mouth, tapped it against Shane’s cheek. 

“Okay, babe?” Rose asked, kept her voice light. Would pretend she wasn’t extremely horny about this if his answer was anything but yes. 

He nodded in response. His eyes were still squeezed shut, his face wet as he pressed it again to Ilya’s stomach. 

“Words,” Ilya said, smacked his cock against Shane’s cheek again, a little harder, and Shane huffed. 

“Yes,” he said, his voice scratchy. “M’good, Rose.” 

“Good,” she said, let herself be horny. “You need to take your pants off too, babe. Let Ilya see how… wet you are for him.” 

Shane let out another choking noise, and Ilya laughed, and then reached down and hauled Shane upright with an ease that felt unbelievable given Shane’s heft. 

“Da, lyubimyy,” Ilya said, “take off all so I can see your wet cock, I have missed it. Has it missed me?” 

“Oh it sure has,” Rose said, snorting as Shane shot her a look somewhere between shock and heat. “Look how happy it is already to see you.” 

She was starting to think that maybe she should have been meaner to Shane in the bedroom. Probably not, because he was gay. It was more fun to gang up on him with Ilya so his cock could actually get hard about it. 

“I see,” Ilya said, sounded very pleased about it. “Show me,” he added, pushed at Shane. 

Shane moved quickly, shucking his pants and underwear in one go, his hands shaking as he shook them out and folded them. Ilya took them from him, added to their pile. It was weirdly domestic.

Honestly, Rose had no idea Shane’s cock could get that hard. Or that wet. He was literally dripping, which set off a reaction chain inside of her gut that lead to her also dripping. 

“Hi, malysh,” Ilya said, his voice taking on a slightly mockingly sweet tone as he took Shane’s cock in his hand, “so happy to see me, hm?” 

“Fuck off,” Shane whined, grunted when Ilya appeared to twist his hand around Shane in retort. “Fuck - Ilya - fuck.” 

“Have you been treating moy malysh right?” Ilya asked, leaned in to press a kiss to the side of Shane’s mouth. “Jerking him off nice? Getting him wet?”

“Fuck off,” Shane reiterated, but he was leaning in to Ilya, pressing his face into his neck like he was magnetised to it, his hands on Ilya’s shoulders, fingers gripping tight. 

“Mm, Rose Landry,” Ilya said, the fucking weirdo, “you want him to eat you while I open him for me? Or you want me to eat you while he gives us show and opens himself?” 

Rose wouldn’t lie and say she wasn’t tempted by Ilya’s offer, but from the way she and Shane had talked around and about today, while not scripting it he had hinted quite heavily that the thing he wanted to stay the same as the last threesome, was that Ilya wouldn’t do more than kiss Rose. He did say that Ilya was bi, so if she did want, he was sure Ilya would happily eat her out, or finger her, or fuck her, or, whatever, but he had sounded extremely annoyed with himself the entire time he was saying it. Also, she was about 80% sure Ilya had only offered the second option to fuck with Shane. 

“Maybe next time, Ilya,” she said, “because I think it wouldn’t be fair to make Shane open himself up, not when he’s already been so good for us?” 

This was a fun role to play, especially as she got to watch the way her words hit Shane like an electric shock. She uncrossed her legs and shoved herself back against the headboard like she had last time, shoving her dress up as she went, and tugging her undies down. 

“Come eat me out, babe,” she said. 

It took a moment for Shane to untangle himself from Ilya - like he had to fight his instincts to pull away - but then he came easily, getting onto the bed on his hands and knees and then dropping down to his elbows between her legs, leaving his ass up. From the look Ilya was giving it, it was apparently an amazing view. 

Shane helped her pull her underwear the rest of the way off before fitting his hands around her hips - shoving the dress up further as he did - to tug her just slightly down. 

“Don’t be rude,” Ilya said after a moment of Shane just hovering there, Rose’s hand carding gently through his hair. “Tell Rose Landry how hot she is. You see how wet she is, give her taste and tell her how sweet she is.” 

She and Shane moaned as one, and then Shane was dipping his head obediently and pressing his tongue against her. His mouth was so spit slick already, lips hot from being kissed and stretched around cock, and he licked into her messily. 

Ilya had reached into the gift bag to pull out the lube and the condoms, which he underhand threw onto the end of the bed, near Shane’s feet. 

“So nice,” Shane mumbled, lips moving against her, “so wet, Rose. Taste - taste so sweet -” 

“Kiss her,” Ilya said, his voice stiff, even as he crawled onto the end of the bed and reached for the lube again. “Let her taste.” 

Rose very much wanted that, it sounded hot as fuck, thank you Ilya. Shane dragged himself up, pushing his arms straight underneath him, and leaned in to kiss her, mouth open. She was tangy in his mouth, and underneath her, she could taste a salty bitterness that was probably Ilya. 

Ilya ran his hand down Shane’s back then, skimming over muscle and spine until he reached his nape - a common Ilya handle apparently - and he pressed down until Shane folded easily and went back to Rose’s cunt. 

“Use your hands,” Ilya said, and Shane shifted underneath him. 

Rose felt his hands smooth along her inner thighs, and then his thumbs were slipping in to the sides of her pussy and spreading her lips open, pulling her clit tight as he lapped against her. Fuck. Maybe she should get Ilya to make an instruction manual for all her future boyfriends - gay or not. She moaned. 

“Good,” Ilya said approvingly. “Good boy, lyubimyy, keep going. Make her come on your mouth, da?”

Maybe he could do an audio book instruction manual. 

She wound her fingers around Shane’s hair, held him tight against her, and watched Ilya through eyes that kept slipping shut. 

He had opened the lube, she had heard the click of it, and then the wet squeeze, and he had half draped himself over Shane’s back, one hand coming to wrap around his ribs, to squeeze at his pec, the other hand she couldn’t see, but could imagine. 

He kissed at Shane’s shoulder blades, bit at his rib. Rose could see his elbow moving behind Shane, and judging by the way Shane’s mouth and tongue kept freezing against her, Ilya was working him open in a way he liked a lot. 

“He is dripping,” Ilya said, conversationally. His chin propped on Shane’s shoulder blade as he looked at Rose. “His cock. Like tap. I am pressing in him, pressing his, ah, prostate. Pull his head up from your pussy if you want to hear his pretty noises.” 

Rose tugged at Shane’s hair, remembered that that would probably hurt and immediately eased her grip, but Shane was already lifting his head, eyes glazed. 

“Sorry, babe,” Rose murmured, petted at Shane’s wet face, “did that hurt?” 

Ilya was wiggling his eyebrows at her, and then Shane, who had opened his mouth as if to answer Rose’s question, moaned instead, long and low. His eyes were leaking tears again. 

“Fuck,” Rose hissed. Ilya laughed. 

“Fuck offfff,” Shane moaned, shoved his ass back against Ilya, “fuck.” 

“No fuck yet,” Ilya said, then put his hand to the back of Shane’s head and shoved him down again. “You make Rose Landry come first. Then we can all have good fuck.” 

Rose liked this idea. Shane was apparently in as well, because he renewed his work on her pussy. Pressed one of his thumbs against her rim where she was wettest, and pushed in slightly as he sucked on her clit. Fuck, what had he been doing since they’d last fucked? How many cantaloupes had he eaten out? 

She came while tugging hard on his hair again, something he really didn’t seem to mind, as he kept moaning through it. That may have been more down to Ilya’s steady stream of dirty words hissed against Shane’s ear, and the rapid movement on his fingers inside Shane. 

She had barely finished coming when Ilya was tugging Shane upright onto his knees, wrapped his arm around Shane’s chest, bit at his neck. 

“Good,” he gritted out against Shane’s skin, “did good job.”

Shane groaned, his head tipping back - his whole weight tipping back actually, until it seemed he was only upright at all due to Ilya holding him up, to Ilya kissing his neck. 

“Give me taste?” Ilya asked, bit at Shane’s jaw, “let me see why Rose Landry is so good for you.” 

Shane groaned again, this time somewhat more displeased sounding, but he still tilted his head sideways so Ilya could kiss him. A small kiss to the lips first, and then a licking kiss over Shane’s lower lip and chin, like Ilya was chasing Rose’s come on Shane’s chin - he was, she supposed. And then he was gripping Shane’s jaw tight, holding him as he kissed him hard, both their mouths open, messy with it. 

It was a very good view of Shane’s cock. He was so hard it looked like it must hurt a bit - the brown pink of it so suffused it was nearly fully red in parts, and it was so wet. Pre spilled all down his shaft, over his balls. Maybe it was some lube as well. The white pearl of it sitting on his tip, ready to spill over as well. He was so wet she almost wondered if he’d come already, but surely not. He couldn’t still be so hard, and there was no way Ilya would have missed it. She was beginning to think he was like, a sex ninja or something. 

A jealous sex ninja. She wondered if he liked how she tasted. 

Shane was mumbling into Ilya’s mouth, ragged and nearly incomprehensible. She thought it was Ilya’s name, but couldn’t be sure. There were tears still trickling down his face, and she couldn’t be sure about those either. He had never… cried with her before. Ilya didn’t seem worried about it, though he must be aware of it, so maybe he was used to it. 

Rose pulled her legs together, then pulled herself up, standing up on her knees and reaching for Shane as well. Ilya looked at her, and for a moment she thought he would pull Shane away, but all he did was keep kissing Shane, his eyes open and on her. She tucked one of hands around Shane’s hip, lifted the other to rub her thumb under his eye, wiping through the tear tracks. 

“Babe,” she said, voice low, “okay?” 

He opened his eyes slowly, blinking at her, and Ilya let go of his face, pulling back to kiss at his neck again instead. He was pinching at Shane’s chest now, pawing at the muscle, digging in to the dips, pinching his nipples. 

“Yeah,” Shane said, hoarse like someone who had deepthroated an insane cock and then gone straight to eating pussy and crying. “S’good.” 

“Yeah,” she repeated, couldn’t believe how lax his face was in comparison to his dick. “You’re doing so good,” she said, echoing Ilya’s praises. “You like it?” 

“I like it,” he agreed. 

“You’re crying,” she pointed out, in case he’d missed it. “Good tears?” 

“So much,” he said, sounded like he as having trouble forming words, “oh fuck,” he added, screwed his eyes shut. “Ilya, fuck, keep fingering me and I’m going to come - fuck -” 

“Can’t have that,” Ilya snarked, his words meaner than his actions apparently, because she heard him pull his fingers out, and then he was rubbing his hand soothingly over Shane’s lower back and murmuring softly in his ear. 

Normally Rose would never at least another five minutes before she could try for another orgasm, but she was horny again now after hearing the crack in Shane’s voice, the edge of desperation. She let go of Shane and shuffled back to the headboard, hiking her skirt up as she went. 

“Hm,” Ilya said, still wrapped around Shane, “I think maybe is time for you to fuck Rose Landy with your big hard cock, yes? Will be good for it to get to do something other look pretty, hm?” 

Rather than his go to fuck off, Shane just whimpered a bit, and rather than laughing at the whimper, Ilya pressed his nose against the side of Shane’s face and kissed him gently. “Lyubimyy,” he said, a breath rather than a vocalisation. “Is a yes?” 

For a moment Rose wondered what a no would look like here. She could go into the bathroom and leave them to it. Or would everything stop. Would Ilya leave. 

“Yes,” Shane whispered back. 

“Okay,” Ilya nodded. Kissed Shane’s cheek again, and then began to slowly manhandle him forwards, towards Rose. “Where are your condoms?” 

“Getting them,” Rose volunteered, leaning sideways across the bed to reach the bedside table she’d stashed the condoms and her own lube in earlier, and pulled them out. 

She settled back against the headboard and Shane settled down over her, his knees nudging against the insides of hers, his head heavy on her shoulder, hands on her hips. 

“Give me,” Ilya instructed, when she’d pulled one of the condoms out, and she handed it over easily. Watched as Ilya tore it open carefully, and pulled out the condom. “Shane,” he said, “lift ass.” 

Shane lifted ass, and Ilya reached around him and slid the condom on him deftly, rolling it down with one hand while pinching the tip with the other, and then gave Shane two solid strokes before letting go. She heard Shane’s cock hit his stomach with a dull thud. 

“Are you going to fuck me?” Shane mumbled, “Ilya?” 

“Yes, yes, greedy,” Ilya replied, hit Shane’s ass lightly. He was sitting back on his heels, opening his own condom packet. “Pay attention to Rose Landry’s hole instead of your own for one single second, jesus.” 

Rose Landry’s hole agreed. Jesus fuck. No. It was so stupid, and somehow Ilya made it sound so good. 

“Sorry,” Shane mumbled, “I’m - sorry, Rose, yes, I - you want?” 

“Yes,” Rose said, truthful, “do you?” 

“Yes,” Shane replied, firm, “fuck. Yes. Can I?” 

His hands on her hips were pulling her down the bed a little, pulling her down against him, and she could feel his hard cock pushing against her the way she’d been wanting it to. 

“Yes,” she groaned, “fuck.” 

“Fingers first,” Ilya said from somewhere behind Shane, “big cock needs prep first.” 

“Mm,” Shane grunted in acknowledgement, and then he was slipping his fingers into his mouth, getting them wet with his own spit - and probably some of Ilya’s too - and reaching down between them to press into her. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, pressed herself down on his fingers. Felt like she could take whatever. She was relaxed and warm from her orgasm, and she’d had him in her before. Just. Not this big before. Insane how much that could change. “You can fuck me now,” she said, “c’mon, babe.” 

He pushed in slow, almost like he was unsure of what he was doing suddenly, but it still felt good - the warm stretch of her muscles, the heat of his cock, the thickness of it against her pussy. 

Then Ilya spoke, and she could see his hands coming to curve around Shane’s hips, holding him. “Breathe out for me, lyubimyy,” he said, “that’s it -” 

And then they were both groaning, and Shane was twitching inside her as Ilya pressed in to him. For a moment they were all still, and then Ilya made a noise that was absolutely a growl, and rocked his hips against Shane’s, which rocked him further into Rose. 

Shane was suddenly harder inside her than he had ever fucking been, like there was something about Ilya that turned him on to his fullest extent. Insanely hot. She rocked forwards and met Ilya’s second thrust, both of them pressing against Shane, chasing him down between them so that he moaned and shook, and his head pressed further over Rose’s shoulder until his face was buried in the pillow. Ilya stretched himself out over Shane’s back, made eye contact with Rose over his shoulder, and grinned in a way that bared his teeth. 

She grinned back the same way, and he laughed, and then groaned, and it reverberated through Shane and into her. 

She wasn’t sure in the end if it was Shane physically in her that got her off, or the reality of Ilya in Shane, and the noises Shane made about that did it, but she came again, hard, her head flung back, Shane caught inside her and making pained noises that didn’t sound like they were all pain because then he was coming, and Ilya was swearing loudly above them both, and Shane was crying Ilya’s name in her ear, and she was pretty sure that was grounds enough for her to tell Shane that he was insane and also stupid if he tried to tell her he thought that he and she should keep trying to work it out. 

She assumed Ilya came - there was a lot of grunting of Shane’s name - but she’d closed her eyes and half checked out, enjoying the feeling of Shane still inside her, somehow still hard, warm around her, clinging to her. 

When she opened her eyes, Ilya was peeling himself off of Shane’s back, and Shane was making an annoyed noise about Ilya pulling out, which reminded her that Shane should also pull out of her, unless they wanted to run the risk of accidentally creating life and making this whole thing way messier than it already was. If she got pregnant today, would she keep the baby? Maybe out of spite, and get Shane and Ilya to raise it and she could be the baby’s aunt or something. 

“Pull out,” she said to Shane, rubbed at his temple gently. His hair was damp, she couldn’t tell if it was from sweat or spit or her own come. Something about that was very hot. 

“Grip the base of the condom,” Ilya instructed tersely, and Shane swore at him. “I am just being careful! How am I supposed to know you know how to take condom off, hm?” 

“Shut up,” Shane mumbled, “you too,” he added, as Rose started giggling underneath him. “I can’t believe you two ganged up on me.” 

“Should not have introduced us, hm,” Ilya said, still sounding terse. “Silly idea.” 

“Very silly,” Rose agreed, “very fun.” 

“Very fun,” Ilya nodded. “One time only, Rose Landry.” 

“Believe me,” she said, shook her head, “I am well aware.” 

Ilya took the condom from Shane, like he had just been waiting for it, and tied a knot in it like he had done already with his own, before getting up from the bed with far too much sprightlyness, and depositing them both in the bathroom rubbish bed. She heard water running, assumed he was washing his hands. 

Shane rolled fully off her until he was on her back next to her, and she groaned, and took his hand in hers. 

“Shane,” she whispered. “Babe.” 

“Mm?” 

“I think we should break up,” she said. 

He didn’t reply for a long moment, his eyes were shut, his mouth half open. 

“Yeah,” he said eventually. The water in the bathroom was still running. Maybe Ilya was going to have a shower. “Rose,” he whispered. 

“Yeah?” 

“I think I might be gay.” 

She laughed out loud, and he lifted his other hand over his chest to hit her lightly on the arm. 

“I’m serious,” he grumbled, not sounding at all put out. 

“Yeah,” she said, “I know. Thank you for telling me.” 

Now he laughed, cracked one eye open to squint at her. “I still can’t have him, though,” he said, all laughter gone from his voice as quick as it came. “I’m still me, and he’s still him.” 

She pushed herself up on one elbow to stare down at him. “Shane,” she said, “are you kidding me? If you asked him, I think that fucking sex missile would let you eat him.” 

The water in the bathroom shut off while Shane looked up at her, and then Ilya came back into the room, holding what looked like wet hand towels. 

“Oh,” Rose said, “very gentlemanly of you.” 

“I am well trained,” Ilya said primly, handing the warm wet towel to her. “If you want shower, Shane usually needs a little while longer before his legs hold him up, so you can go first.” 

Shane made a noise like he resented being talked about like he wasn’t here, but also like they should keep doing it. She patted him on the shoulder, and used the towel to wipe her face before mopping between her legs. 

Ilya climbed back onto the bed, moving to straddle Shane’s hips, and then began wiping the towel gently over Shane’s face. 

“He does not like when it dries,” Ilya said, calm in the face of her raised eyebrows. “And he is tired, no? Did so much work today, making us both come. Getting fucked.” 

“He did,” Rose agreed, and Shane made his resentful but keep going noise, and she laughed. “He wanted you to fuck him so bad,” she said then, “I kept telling him that he was super gay, y’know, but I think he was never going to believe it until you fucked him again.” 

“I have cock of turning men gay,” Ilya said easily. “Is very useful.” 

“Good thing it’s just for turning men gay,” Rose said, “otherwise you’d have left a trail of very confused women out there.” 

“More women should be gay,” Ilya said, tsked his tongue, “would be a favour for whole world. Serve all men right if all the prettiest women are gay.” 

He was wiping the towel around Shane’s throat now, careful movements, soft hands. Rose watched for a while before sitting up. 

“I will go shower now,” she said. “Maybe while I’m showering, you should comfort Shane over his breakup.” 

-

Rose attended all of the ASG events that Shane was in, cheering loud in the crowd as he broke records. Cheering louder at the game where he and Ilya played together. She even let herself be persuaded into doing an interview or two - with Shane - in which they affirmed that they were very good friends, and not dating. They’d tried it out, and they just weren’t compatible like that. It was amusing, really, the amount of shock and horror that caused, even while she and Shane’s  were grinning with their arms around each other. 

“But you’re still here, supporting him,” one interviewer asked, confusion written all over his face. 

Rose shrugged, “Of course I am, he’s one of my best friends, and one of the best hockey players. Maybe the best. I wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to watch something like this.” 

“Even though you’ve just broken up?” 

“It was mutual,” she said, “with no hard feelings. We were barely even dating in the first place. More friends than anything.” 

“I’ve been trying to point out other hockey players she might want to date,” Shane offered while Rose rolled her eyes. “But the only one she’s admitted is cute is Rozanov, so obviously that’s not happening.” 

The interviewer laughed, Shane laughed, Rose laughed. 

-

I.ROZANOV: nature dictates we should be enemies

YOU: You let nature dictate you?

I.ROZANOV: hey, you let SHANE dick take you and he is not as impressive as nature

YOU: Weren’t you going to send me your friend Svetlana’s phone number?

I.ROZANOV: i am wary of letting you two meet. i think it could be dangerous. 

YOU:  Send me her number and I’ll pretend I found your dick take joke funny. 

I.ROZANOV: [CONTACT SHARED]

YOU: hahahahahaha good joke :))) 

I.ROZANOV: thank you for appreciation. we can mostly ignore nature i think. so long as you laugh at my funny jokes. 

Chapter 2

Chapter Notes

Thank you for all your lovely comments! I saw some of you wanted the convo between Shane and Ilya about the threesome, so here it is. (I will maybe do the convo between Shane and Ilya after the threesome as well, but that is a decision my brain will make seperate to me) xxx

The text from ‘Jane’ came through while Ilya was sprawled out on Cliff Marlow’s couch, listening to Marly’s attempts to cajole him into coming clubbing that night. He had been avoiding it since that stupid night in Montreal at Ciel, which Marly knew, it was just that he thought Ilya was pissed about not scoring that night rather than the actual fact of the matter. 

Which was that Ilya was, in fact, pissed about not scoring that night, and pissed because he could have scored that night if his brain hadn’t been so focused on Shane fucking Hollander. The actual actual fact of the matter was maybe that Ilya had been carrying around this stupid pain in his chest for a couple of weeks now, and whenever he even thought about going and getting laid, it got worse. Much easier to stay at home and drink. 

FROM: Jane

Hypothetically if I asked you to have a threesome with me and Rose, what would you say? 

What the fuck. Ilya had already necked a bottle of beer and a shot of vodka but there was no way he was drunk enough to be hallucinating shit. He had to blink at the text several times, trying to pull it into focus in a way where it would change the text into something that made sense.

Did he have another Jane in his contacts? A non Shane Jane? He didn’t think so. Did he not actually understand what hypothetically meant? He looked it up. Nope, his grasp on the english language was still phenomenal, and he ought to be praised for it daily. He didn’t bother looking up threesome, because there was no way he was misunderstanding that part of the message. 

He considered showing the message to Cliff just to make sure it was real, but then he would have to answer questions, and he didn’t think he wanted to do that. 

He swung his legs off the couch and sat up. 

“Okay, okay,” he said, “you have persuaded me. Let’s go out and I will fuck all the lovely ladies you are trying to fuck, and you will regret asking me to come.” 

-

Ilya did not fuck any of the women Cliff was angling for. In fact, he fucked zero women or men. He would like the record to show that several opportunities were presented to him for fucking, it was not as if he was suddenly not fuckable. It was just that he was apparently a sad sack who could not fathom getting it up, and could also not fathom that Shane Hollander had sent him a text about threesomes after fucking ignoring him for weeks. 

To make things a little better - or perhaps worse, actually - Marly also did not hook up. But only because he kept sticking to Ilya like some type of particularly worried glue. 

-

Six days passed in which the text in Ilya’s phone continued to say the same thing he had read when it arrived. It continued to make him confused just to look at it. Horny as well. Angry too. He was ignoring the sad it made him. Rose Landry and Shane were still all over magazines and headlines. New photos of them popping up with annoying frequency. 

It was probably good to know that this had all only ever been sex to Shane, would make it easier for Ilya to get over him. Not that there was much to get over, because it had just been sex for Ilya too, obviously. But if Shane was asking for a threesome with him, it was because he knew how good the sex was. Right? Unless it was Rose Landry that wanted it. Did Shane want to be cucked? No. He liked to be fucked too much to be able to watch Ilya fuck someone else and not Shane. Maybe Ilya could do this, and be so fucking good at sex for Rose Landry that she would leave Shane for him.

He didn’t want Rose Landry to leave Shane for him. 

He wanted to fuck Shane so badly he kept getting hard about it whenever he saw anything that reminded him of Shane, and too many things kept reminding him of Shane. Like the pictures of Shane and Rose Landry all over the place. And hockey gear. And his own bed. 

He gave in to the draw of the text. He was a weak man. It was either give in to the text or give in to the ebb of manic energy in the back of his mind that was suggesting he go get fucking high and drunk and make headlines himself. 

He couldn’t do it over text because he couldn’t handle reading between the lines of Shane’s avoidance legalese or whatever, so he called. Not because he missed Shane’s voice. 

Shane answered on the third ring, sounding breathless like he’d been running. Or like he was in the middle of fucking. Fuck. 

“Hi,” he answered, “I didn’t think you’d call.” 

“No,” Ilya agreed. He was lying on his back on his bed, eyes screwed up. He should have done this in his kitchen where his vodka was. “Ask me your question. No hyper-theticals.”

A long pause. Shane cleared his throat. Ilya heard a quiet noise of a door shutting, and then the muffled puff of Shane sitting down on something soft. Maybe they were both lying on their beds. 

“Will you have a threesome with me and Rose?” Shane asked, voice quiet but steady. “She doesn’t know it’s you I’m asking, but she knows I’m asking someone. Just, so you know, I haven’t. Outed you.” 

Ilya sighed. His cock was hard, which was annoying. Made it harder to think. He thought about Rose Landry’s annoyingly smug face to try and soften himself, but her face was now intrinsically linked in his brain with Shane’s face, and Shane’s face just made him harder. Stupid life. 

“Okay,” he said. 

“Um,” Shane said. “Okay, like, you’ll do it?” 

“I’ll do you,” Ilya snarked back immediately. “Yes. Who would not give up chance to fuck hot famous Rose Landry.” 

Another silence. “Oh,” Shane said eventually. “Okay. Yeah. Um. That makes sense. She’ll - she’ll be pleased you’ve agreed. I know she thinks you’re attractive, so-” 

“For fucks sake,” Ilya interrupted. “You are not allowed to sound so fucking sad about me wanting my cock in your girlfriend when you are the one asking me to do it.” 

“That wasn’t what I was asking for,” Shane retorted hotly, and then groaned. Ilya could imagine him covering his face with his hand. “I mean. That can be how it happens. If you and Rose want to. But I had been. Hoping. That you would fuck me. Not Rose.” 

Ow. Ilya shoved his hand into his sweats to palm his cock, trying to take off some of the edge of how painfully hard it had gotten. Ilya had fucked so many people. So many very hot people. He knew they wanted it, knew they got wet over him. He shouldn’t be so excited over Shane Hollander admitting that he wanted Ilya to fuck him. Fuck. 

“You want her to see how good you take it?” 

Shane swore, sounded muffled. “Maybe.”

“This is big step for you,” Ilya said. His cheeks were so hot. Maybe he was coming down with something. “A big famous girlfriend, and now a threesome. Not so boring right now, hm?”

“Fuck off,” Shane grunted. “I don’t think having a hook up with you for fucking years counts as boring either.” 

“Mm, that bit was not boring, yes, but you were still boring.” He shrugged even though Shane couldn’t see him. “Who wanted threesome? You or Rose Landry? Maybe you are too boring in bed for famous star.” 

“Fuck off,” Shane bit out again, and then sighed. “It - she asked for the last one. I asked for this one.” 

The heat in Ilya’s stomach curdled. What the fuck. He wasn’t even the first call for a threesome? He should tell Shane he was out, just on principle. 

“What, first guy didn’t fuck you good enough? Had to come back to me?” 

“I didn’t let the first guy fuck me,” Shane said. He sounded stressed, like he had realised he’d said something he hadn’t wanted to. “I just - fuck. Rose - she - it was her friend. And I - the whole time I was - was like, kissing him, or sucking him off, I kept thinking about you. About how you were so much better to kiss, your cock so much nicer to have in my mouth. I fucking wanted you, so badly. I want you so badly.”

“Ah,” Ilya said. “Of course. Which is why you are dating Rose Landry and not meeting my eye at face off.” 

“I know,” Shane said. “I’m sorry.” 

“For what? For leaving me covered in your come with my cock out like an idiot? For coming up with worst dumb lie as excuse? For saying you want me to fuck you even though you have famous girlfriend?” 

“Yes,” Shane said. “All of that.” 

Ilya groaned. “Bring your famous girlfriend to All Stars,” he said, because he was an idiot with no sense of self preservation. “And we will have threesome.”

Chapter 3

Chapter Notes

last chapter for reals this time. The Shane/Ilya conversation after Rose goes to shower xxx

They watched Rose get up and go into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her - though not before winking at Shane. A wink should not make him blush, not after everything else. His cheeks warmed up anyway, though perhaps because Ilya was still straddling him, wiping the warm damp cloth over Shane’s pecs. 

“You are heartbroken?” Ilya asked, when Shane couldn’t seem to make his mouth do anything but hang open as he watched Ilya’s hands on him. 

“Huh?” 

Ilya dragged the cloth down the line between his abs, Ilya sometimes referred to it as his come gutter, which was gross but also sadly accurate. 

“Over breakup,” Ilya said, voice light even as his gaze felt heavy enough to pin Shane to the bed. More so even than Ilya’s body weight currently pinning Shane to the bed. 

“Oh,” Shane breathed. Had somehow managed to forget in the last thirty seconds or so that there had been, technically, a break up. “No.” 

“Poor Rose Landry,” Ilya sniffed, ran his thumb along Shane’s skin after the cloth like he was drying it off. “Most famous hot woman on planet and you do not even cry over her?” 

Shane blinked a little, it was hard to think with Ilya wiping at his lower stomach, his hips hard and heavy on Shane’s. “I think we’ve actually been broken up for a few weeks now,” he admitted. “Um. I was just, clinging, and she was letting me. So. I think now that I’ve let go she’d probably be a little pissed off if I cried about it.” 

Ilya sat back a little, lifting up on his knees to shift his weight further back on Shane’s thighs, and stared down at him. “What?” 

It was a easier to think now, but it was also twice as embarrassing now his brain could put its full attention on the situation. 

“Can we - can I not still be covered in come while we talk about this?” He asked, starting to wriggle up, putting his elbows on the bed underneath him. 

“Stay down,” Ilya said, put his hand to the middle of Shane’s chest, and Shane dropped his weight back immediately. “You are only a little covered in come now,” he added, “but I will be nice and clean it all off, and then you tell me why I have been staring angrily at many photos of you on dates with Rose Landry while you were apparently not dating.” 

Huh. Shane lay still while Ilya wiped the rest of him down, a lot more efficiently than he had been before, now there was a conversation to get to. When Ilya was finished, he chucked the cloth in the direction of the bathroom, and then climbed off Shane to sit on the end of the bed. 

Shane sat up as well. Still awkward to be naked, but he didn’t want to look like he was avoiding this. Which he was a little. But he didn’t want to be. 

“She - Rose - tried to, I guess, gently break the news of me being gay, to me. And I - I freaked out a little.” 

“No,” Ilya said, voice dry, face bland. 

Shane smacked his knee. “Shut up. I - I don’t always freak out.” 

“Mh,” Ilya said, which did not sound like agreement. 

“I wanted to prove. To her, but mostly to me, that I could be maybe a little bit straight. To like both. Like you. Um. She - she agreed to let us try. But I - I am starting to see that actually she was just setting up.  Um. Gay traps? For me to realise that I’m gay?” 

“Threesomes,” Ilya said, still bland. “You thought maybe she was having threesome with you and another man to prove you are not super gay?” 

Shane cleared his throat. Look. It had sounded kind of sensible at the time. He had been feeling insane. He would have done anything to not have to look at it full on. He shrugged. “After we had one with Miles, I - I mean it was fine. It was good. But it wasn’t, like. It wasn’t as good as people talk about sex being. It was, like, better than having sex with any woman I’ve had sex with, but not so much that I thought it really counted. Not the way it feels when we have - not like how it is with you.” 

Ilya looked a little like he wanted to preen, but instead he shook his head in exasperation. “You hear yourself?” He asked. “Shitty boring sex with Miles was still better than any sex with any woman,  is what you are saying, and your little brain was still thinking maybe it did like girls?”

Shane wanted, very much, to just bury his face in Ilya’s shoulder, or stomach, or crotch, and just talk from there. So he could be hidden and held. He kept himself still, stared down at his hands in his lap. Rubbed his thumb against the base of his palm where his veins showed green under his skin. 

“No,” he said. “No, my brain was - was telling me that maybe I only want you. And that it didn’t matter that I don’t find girls attractive, because I wasn’t going to go out and - and be with anyone if it wasn’t going to be you.” 

He heard Ilya exhale loud and slow, and then the creaking of the bed. Ilya had gotten off the bed entirely. Ilya was going to put his clothes on and leave. Shane lifted his head to watch, felt like that was fair after all, he’d made Ilya do the same.

Ilya shuffled around in the bag he’d brought, pulled out the ginger ales he’d bought specifically for Shane - for the second time - and pulled one from the pack before crossing the room to put the rest in the small fridge. He came back to the bed, holding the can out to Shane. Shane took the can. Ilya sat back down on the bed, hip to hip with Shane. 

“Drink some,” he said. “Your voice is all scratchy from my cock.” 

Shane cracked the can, took a long obedient drink. Ilya took the can back, and then leaned to put it on the bedside table with Rose’s lube, his muscles flexing all along his arm and into his back. 

“Ilya,” Shane said. He wasn’t scared Ilya was going to leave, now, but he was still fucking scared. 

“Shane,” Ilya said. “You know I can’t - we can’t. Shane.” 

“I know,” Shane said. He had been being an idiot, but he knew that, he did. “I know. I just. I like you so much, Ilya. I can’t pretend I don’t anymore.” 

“You don’t like me,” Ilya said, gentle. 

“I do,” Shane shook his head a little too hard, felt like if he did it again the ginger ale he just drank would fizz right back out of him. “I think I like you too much, Ilya. I - so much it scares me.” 

“Shane.”

“If we could,” Shane insisted, took Ilya’s hand, felt heated through as Ilya threaded their fingers together. “If we could, would you want to?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Ilya said. He lifted his other hand and cupped Shane’s face carefully, rubbed his thumb over Shane’s cheek. It was still a little sticky despite the wipe down. “It does not matter what I want, we cannot -” 

“It matters to me,” Shane cut in. Couldn’t help himself. His chest hurt. He wanted to be closer to Ilya than they were. “Would you want to? Be together. For real. If we could.” 

Ilya was not looking at him anymore, had dropped his gaze from his face to their joined hands instead, was stroking his thumb over Shane’s. He watched as Ilya’s shoulders hitched, catching on a breath. 

“I could not go back to Russia,” Ilya said, bit it out roughly. “I would - the laws there, if we were found out, I would not be allowed to go home. And my father is sick. I think he will die soon.”

There were very many aftershocks of this threesome that Shane had imagined, and this was not one of them. He hesitated for a moment, and then lifted himself up and climbed into Ilya’s lap because - because he wanted to be closer and he was pretty sure Ilya wanted him closer, even if that’s all they could have. 

He held Ilya tight, Ilya doing the same, wrapping his arms around Shane’s waist and holding on. Letting Shane rock them, to press kisses to the side of Ilya’s head. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Shane asked, once Ilya had stopped actively sniffling against his neck. 

“Is - ah - dementia. I have been paying for his treatment but it is only getting worse. Could be quick, or could be years of how he is now, which would be worse. I feel evil wishing for him to be dead already, but I do it all the time.” 

“That’s not-” Shane began, reformed his words, “Ilya. Not wanting him to keep suffering isn’t evil. It’s. I get it.” 

“I want me to stop suffering,” Ilya grunted. “He - yes. I do not want him to suffer, but is what I want for him to die. So I am not stuck feeling so, so shitty all of the time.” 

“Okay,” Shane said, rubbed his hand up and down the hot expanse of Ilya’s exposed back. They should really have put at least some clothing on, but he wasn’t letting go of Ilya first for any reason, and Ilya was still holding him tightly. “That’s understandable too. It’s a lot. It’s okay to be - torn about it. To want it to end for your sake too.” 

Ilya sighed heavily against him. His face still felt wet on Shane’s skin, but it could very well just be the condensation of his breath caught in the warm embrace. “Your opinion is much nicer to me than any of my family’s will be,” he said. “Shane. I am going to say something that is cruel.” 

Ilya probably deserved to say any number of cruel things to Shane. “Okay.” He didn’t let go of Ilya, kept rubbing his hand on his back, pressed another kiss to the top of Ilya’s head. 

“I do not want anyone but you, either,” Ilya said. “I have been. Trying. To want. Anyone else. But I do not want.” 

It hurt like it was cruel, but Shane couldn’t see the words as anything but a relief, even as his chest clenched tightly. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, pressed his face into Ilya’s hair. “Fuck, Ilya. I always - I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Your brain must be so happy to not only be thinking about hockey,” Ilya mumbled weakly, “I am much more exciting.” 

“You are,” Shane agreed. “Can I - can I want you anyway? Even if we can’t have… more?” 

“You shouldn’t,” Ilya said, very serious, “but if you’re going to anyway, I want it. Very much.” 

“I want it,” Shane pressed his forehead against Ilya’s head, moved his hand to Ilya’s face. “Please.” 

Ilya tipped his head back, kissed him. Kissed him again, his hand moving to the back of Shane’s head to hold him closer. When they broke the kiss, they stayed leaned in close, hands on each other’s faces, breath in each other’s mouths. 

“Okay,” Ilya said. “You and me. Like this. No Rose Landry.” 

“No Rose,” Shane agreed, “no one else, either?” 

“No one,” Ilya said, “I will have to be sexting Jane all the time.” 

“I don’t think Jane will care,” Shane mumbled. Kissed Ilya again, “so long as she knows it’s only her.” 

“My Jane is jealous,” Ilya nodded, “even when it has been her in very public very famous relationship, and poor Lily has been, what is term, sideflower.” 

“Um,” Shane had to close his eyes for a moment, “wallflower?” 

“Mm, yes. Wallflower side chick.” 

“She isn’t,” Shane said. “She’s always been the main, even when she shouldn’t have been. Never stopped thinking about her.” 

“Okay, okay,” Ilya pulled Shane closer by his chin, bit at Shane’s lower lip. “Use my real name now because my heckles are raising hearing you talk about how much you want some girl.” 

“Idiot,” Shane snorted. “Ilya,” he amended. Kissed him hard. “I’m fully convinced now, okay? No need to ever be jealous by the female pronoun again. It’s all you.”