Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

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

Relationships:

J. J. Boiziau/Shane Hollander, Shane Hollander & Hayden Pike & Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

J.J. Boiziau, Hayden Pike, Shane Hollander

Additional Tags:

Third Wheels, Dry Humping, Hotel Sex, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Established Relationship, where the relationship isn't perfectly defined but wtvr, Good Friend Hayden Pike, a bit of an exhibitionism kink from shane, no beta we die like my sleep schedule writing this all night, Bisexual Jean-Jacques Boiziau | J.J. Dagenais

Language:

English

Series:

Part 4 of j.j.'s bisexual adventures

Collections:

anonymous

Stats:

Published: 2026-02-12 Words: 2,124 Chapters: 1/1

not yet, asshole!

Summary

"So anyway," Hayden was saying, scrolling through his phone, "there's this steakhouse two blocks from here. Comeau's going, Bissonette, probably half the team. You guys in?"

Shane opened his mouth to respond, but J.J.'s fingers flexed against his inner thigh and the words died in his throat. He managed something that sounded vaguely like "Uh."

"That's not really an answer, bud." Hayden looked up, grinning. "Come on, when do we all hang out together? It'll be fun!"

Fun, Shane thought wildly, was not having J.J.'s hand creeping steadily toward his dick while trying to have a normal converstion with their friend. Though some traitorous part of his brain was filing this under incredibly hot for later examination.

(Set a couple years after "closet protocol", where teen J.J. and Shane kiss for the first time.)

Notes

look. i saw the tweet. i had to take a moment and then i wrote. you'll have to pry them out of my cold, dead hands

(also tried to make this pretty light-hearted and fun!!)

The thing about Jean-Jacques Boiziau was that he had absolutely no shame.

Which was why his hand was currently sliding up Shane's thigh—slow, deliberate, absolutely filthy—while Hayden Pike sat three feet away, completely oblivious.

"So anyway," Hayden was saying, scrolling through his phone, "there's this steakhouse two blocks from here. Comeau's going, Bissonette, probably half the team. You guys in?"

Shane opened his mouth to respond, but J.J.'s fingers flexed against his inner thigh and the words died in his throat. He managed something that sounded vaguely like "Uh."

"That's not really an answer, bud." Hayden looked up, grinning. "Come on, when do we all hang out together? It'll be fun!"

Fun, Shane thought wildly, was not having J.J.'s hand creeping steadily toward his dick while trying to have a normal converstion with their friend. Though some traitorous part of his brain was filing this under incredibly hot for later examination.

They'd been doing this for three years—hooking up, sneaking around, very carefully not examining what it meant—and Shane had gotten good at keeping his face neutral. But apparently not good enough, because J.J. was looking at him with barely concealed amusement, the smug bastard.

"Can't tonight," J.J. said smoothly, like he wasn't currently fondling Shane's leg. "I have plans."

"What kind of plans?"

"The personal kind." J.J.'s thumb rubbed a small circle and Shane bit the inside of his cheek. "Very important personal business."

This was bad. This was so bad. But also—and Shane would deny this forever—kind of amazing? There was something about J.J.'s casual confidence, the way he could multitask corruption and conversation, that made Shane's brain go pleasantly fuzzy.

It was easy, being around J.J. That was the problem. Or maybe not a problem. Three years ago Shane had been wound so tight he could barely function, and then J.J. had kissed him, held him, they talked, and suddenly the world seemed—manageable. Less overwhelming. J.J. made him feel like he could actually breathe.

Even when—especially when—he was being a complete menace.

"Come on, J.J.," Hayden was saying. "Since when do you have personal business? You tell us about every girl you—"

"This is different." J.J.'s hand moved higher and Shane grabbed a pillow, hugging it to his lap. "This is special, tu comprends?"

"Special how? Do we know her?"

J.J. glanced at Shane, eyes glinting with mischief. "Intimately."

Shane kicked him. Hard.

"Merde—Hollander, what the fuck?"

"Sorry." Shane's voice came out strangled. "Leg cramp."

"You okay?" Hayden looked concerned now. "You're being really quiet. And you look kind of—I don't know. Red."

"I'm fine," Shane squeaked. "Just. Tired. Long practice."

"You're always tired after practice. That's never stopped you from eating before." Hayden stood up, grabbing his jacket. "Seriously, both of you are being super weird. You sure you don't want to come?"

"Very sure," J.J. said, his hand now blatantly cupping Shane through his jeans. Shane was going to murder him. Or pass out. Possibly both. "Shane needs his rest."

"And you need to bang your mystery girl?"

"Something like that."

Hayden rolled his eyes, checking his pockets. "Fine, be that way. But I'm telling Jackie you're both being suspicious."

"Jackie already knows I'm suspicious," J.J. said cheerfully. "It's part of my charm."

"Your charm is that you're six-foot-six and have a nice smile. The suspicion is just annoying." Hayden headed for the door, then paused. "Actually, you know what? I'll just crash in Comeau's room tonight. Give you your privacy, Holly. And J.J. can bring his girl here instead of his room. More space."

Shane's brain was currently offline, but he managed, "You don't have to—"

"Nah, it's cool. Have fun with your mystery girl, Boiziau. Try not to break the furniture." Hayden grinned. "And Shane, seriously, get some sleep. You look like you're about to have a stroke."

The door clicked shut.

Shane counted to ten. Then twenty. Then—

J.J. was on him, pushing him back against the headboard with a kiss that was somehow both filthy and weirdly sweet. "Tu me rends fou," he murmured against Shane's mouth. "Do you have any idea how hard it was not to just—"

"Yes," Shane gasped, because J.J.'s hands were everywhere now, pulling at his shirt, his jeans, everything. "Fuck, yes, I know exactly—"

"All practice I'm thinking about this." J.J. got Shane's shirt over his head and immediately latched onto his neck. "You in this room, waiting for me. Hayden finally leaving so I can—merde, Shane, you smell so good—"

Shane's brain was short-circuiting. J.J. was always intense, but this was something else. Three weeks on the road without proper time alone, and now they had two hours minimum before anyone came back.

He should probably feel guilty about lying to Hayden. But mostly he just felt relieved that J.J. was finally, finally touching him properly.

"Off," Shane managed, tugging at J.J.'s shirt. "Get this off."

J.J. pulled back just long enough to strip, and Shane's mouth went dry. Three years and he still wasn't used to how stupidly attractive J.J. was. All smooth dark skin and perfect muscle, wearing those designer jeans that probably cost more than Shane's entire wardrobe.

"You're staring," J.J. said, smirking.

"You're hot. I'm allowed to stare."

"Mm, you can do more than stare." J.J. climbed back onto the bed, straddling Shane's hips. "You can touch. I'm very touchable."

He was also very hard, Shane noted, as J.J. rolled his hips down in a slow grind that made Shane's eyes roll back.

"Fuck," Shane breathed.

"Éventuellement," J.J. said, grinning. "But first I want to—" He rolled his hips again, setting up a rhythm that was going to make Shane lose his mind. "Missed this. Missed you."

Shane's hands found J.J.'s hips, gripping hard enough to bruise. "Been three weeks."

"Three weeks too long." J.J. leaned down to kiss him, deep and dirty, while his hips kept moving in that perfect, maddening rhythm. The friction was incredible—two layers of denim and still Shane could feel everything.

"Need—" Shane gasped against J.J.'s mouth. "Fuck, need you to—"

"Tell me." J.J.'s teeth caught Shane's bottom lip. "Come on, baby, what do you need?"

And there it was, that stupid nickname that made Shane's chest tight and his face hot. "Don't—you can't just—"

"I can do whatever I want," J.J. murmured, rolling his hips particularly hard. "You like it when I call you baby. I can tell."

"I hate you."

"No you don't." J.J. was unbuttoning Shane's jeans now, getting them open but not taking them off. "You like me so much it makes you cranky."

That was unfortunately accurate. Shane grabbed J.J.'s face and kissed him hard enough to shut him up, which just made J.J. laugh into his mouth.

"Okay," J.J. said when they broke apart. "Okay, I'm done being mean. Mostly." He climbed off Shane just long enough to strip them both properly, then settled back between Shane's legs. "How do you want it?"

Shane's brain was pure static. "I—what?"

"How. Do. You. Want. It." J.J. punctuated each word with a kiss down Shane's chest. "I could fuck you properly, nice and slow. Or—" He bit down gently on Shane's hip. "We could do this fast. Get you off like this and then see what happens."

"Second one," Shane said immediately. His dick was not interested in waiting.

J.J. grinned. "Thought so." He reached for his bag, pulling out lube. "You're so easy for me, Hollander."

"Fuck off."

"Later." J.J. slicked up his fingers, his own cock, making it all obscenely wet. Then he pushed Shane's legs up, getting him bent nearly in half. "This okay?"

Shane nodded, beyond words. J.J. had this way of manhandling him that should have been annoying but just made him feel—safe. Taken care of. Like someone else could be in control for once and Shane could just feel.

J.J. pressed close, lining himself up, and then—

"Oh fuck," Shane gasped as J.J. started grinding against him, his cock sliding slick and hot against Shane's hole without pushing in. The pressure was incredible, the friction perfect, and Shane's hands scrabbled at the sheets.

"Good?" J.J.'s voice was rough.

"Yeah—fuck—don't stop—"

J.J. set up a rhythm, slow at first, then faster as Shane's hips started rolling up to meet him. It was messy and desperate and so fucking hot Shane could barely think. Every slide of J.J.'s cock made him gasp, made him need more.

"Tu es tellement beau comme ça," J.J. murmured, leaning down to kiss Shane's neck. "So perfect, baby. You have no idea—"

"Shut up," Shane managed. "If you don't—fuck—if you don't actually fuck me soon I'm going to—"

"What? Come just from this?" J.J. sounded delighted. "For me?"

"Don't know—" Shane's breath was coming in harsh pants now. "Maybe—fuck—"

J.J. shifted the angle slightly and pressed down harder, and suddenly Shane could feel the head of his cock catching on his rim with every thrust, not pushing in but just—there. The promise of it. And it was too much and not enough and—

"J.J.—"

"I know." J.J.'s hand wrapped around Shane's cock, stroking in time with his thrusts. "I've got you. Let me see it, come on—"

Shane came with a strangled noise, spilling over J.J.'s hand and his own stomach, his whole body shaking with it. J.J. followed a moment later with a low groan, his rhythm faltering as he came against Shane's hole.

For a long moment they just breathed, sticky and satisfied and completely wrecked.

"Merde," J.J. said eventually. "That was—"

"Yeah."

J.J. kissed him, soft and lazy. "Still want me to fuck you properly?"

Shane laughed, breathless. "Give me like ten minutes."

"Take twenty." J.J. rolled off carefully, reaching for his discarded shirt to clean them up. "We have time."

They did have time. Two hours, maybe more. Shane let himself relax into the mattress, watching J.J. move around the room with easy confidence. It was nice. Comfortable. He didn't have to be perfect or in control or anything other than exactly this.

"Your phone's going crazy," J.J. said, nodding at the nightstand.

Shane groaned and grabbed it. Four texts from Hayden.

Text from Hayden (7:23 PM): hope youre enjoying your quiet time

Text from Hayden (7:24 PM): comreau says i can crash in his room so youre good

Text from Hayden (7:25 PM): btw jackie says hi

Text from Hayden (7:26 PM): also she says she KNOWS youre up to something and shes going to figure it out

Shane showed the last message to J.J., who laughed.

"Jackie definitely knows," J.J. said, climbing back onto the bed. "She gave me this look last week at dinner. Very specific 'I know you're fucking my husband's best friend' look."

"Great," Shane muttered. "That's great."

"Could be worse. Could be Hayden who figured it out." J.J. pulled Shane against his chest, easy and natural. "He'd probably want to like, talk about our feelings or some shit."

"God forbid."

They lay there in comfortable silence, J.J.'s fingers tracing idle patterns on Shane's back. This was Shane's favorite part, honestly. Not that the sex wasn't amazing—it absolutely was—but this after, when they could just exist together without overthinking it.

"You know," J.J. said quietly, "we could tell him. Eventually."

Shane tensed. "I don't—"

"I know. Not yet." J.J. kissed his temple. "Just saying it's an option. Quand tu seras prêt."

When he was ready. Shane thought about it. About what it would mean to tell people this was real, not just hookups, not just convenient. It was terrifying.

But maybe not as terrifying as it had been three years ago.

"Maybe," Shane said. "Someday."

"Ça me va." J.J.'s hand slid lower. "For now though, I believe I promised to fuck you properly?"

Shane's dick made a valiant attempt at interest. "Already?"

"What can I say? You inspire me."

"You're ridiculous."

"You like it." J.J. was already reaching for the lube again, grinning. "Allez, baby. Let me take care of you."

And because J.J. made everything easy, because Shane felt safer with him than he'd ever felt with anyone, because this was good—

Shane let him.