Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Heated Rivalry (TV)

Relationship:

J. J. Boiziau/Shane Hollander

Characters:

J.J. Boiziau, Shane Hollander

Additional Tags:

he wants that cookie so bad y'all, Thigh sex, Frotting, Cute, Fluff and Smut, First Time Blow Jobs, 69 (Sex Position), Gentle Sex, Friends to Lovers, or maybe, Friends with Benefits, Bisexual Jean-Jacques Boiziau | J.J. Dagenais

Language:

English

Series:

Part 2 of j.j.'s bisexual adventures

Collections:

anonymous

Stats:

Published: 2026-01-30 Words: 3,049 Chapters: 1/1

j.j.'s discovery of shane hollander's thighs

Summary

It was soft at first, tentative. Like Shane was testing, seeing if J.J. would pull away. But J.J. didn't pull away. Instead, he leaned in, cupping Shane's face with one hand and kissing him back.

Shane made a small sound, something desperate and relieved, and suddenly the kiss was different. Shane's mouth opened under his, and J.J. realized with a jolt that Shane knew exactly what he was doing. His tongue traced J.J.'s lower lip before sliding inside, and J.J. groaned because fuck, Shane was a good kisser. Really good. The kind of good that came from experience, from knowing exactly how to lick into someone's mouth to make their brain short-circuit.

"Merde," J.J. breathed against Shane's lips. "Where did you learn to kiss like that?"

Alt ending to my previous fic where J.J. does in fact hook up with Shane! The ending I deserve because they're too cute.

Notes

shameless smut y'all avert your eyes if this disagrees with you

"I just wish..." Shane trailed off. "I wish I could talk to him. Just once more. To tell him I'm sorry. That I was wrong. That I..." He stopped, shaking his head.

J.J. was still so close, their knees touching on the couch. Shane's face was flushed from wine and crying, his eyes red but somehow still beautiful. Without thinking, J.J. reached out and brushed a strand of hair from Shane's forehead.

Shane went very still.

They stared at each other for a long moment. J.J. could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. Could see the exact moment Shane's gaze dropped to his lips.

"J.J.," Shane whispered.

"Yeah?"

"I think I'm going to do something stupid."

Shane leaned in and kissed him.

It was soft at first, tentative. Like Shane was testing, seeing if J.J. would pull away. But J.J. didn't pull away. Instead, he leaned in, cupping Shane's face with one hand and kissing him back.

Shane made a small sound, something desperate and relieved, and suddenly the kiss was different. Shane's mouth opened under his, and J.J. realized with a jolt that Shane knew exactly what he was doing. His tongue traced J.J.'s lower lip before sliding inside, and J.J. groaned because fuck, Shane was a good kisser. Really good. The kind of good that came from experience, from knowing exactly how to lick into someone's mouth to make their brain short-circuit.

"Merde," J.J. breathed against Shane's lips. "Where did you learn to kiss like that?"

Shane's hands fisted in J.J.'s shirt, pulling him closer with surprising strength. J.J. went willingly, shifting until Shane was underneath him on the couch, their legs tangling together. The kiss turned hungry, urgent, and J.J. could taste wine and salt and something uniquely Shane.

J.J.'s hand slid under Shane's shirt, feeling the warm skin beneath. Shane gasped against his mouth, arching up into the touch. J.J. kissed along his jaw, down his throat, and Shane's pulse was racing under his lips.

"J.J.," Shane breathed. "We should—too many clothes."

"Yeah?" J.J. pulled back enough to look at him. Shane's pupils were blown wide, his lips swollen from kissing, and he looked absolutely wrecked already. "You're sure?"

"Yes," Shane said firmly. "I'm sure. Very sure."

He sat up, and J.J. shifted back to give him room. Shane's hands went to his own shirt, pulling it over his head, and then he carefully folded it and set it on the coffee table. J.J. stared.

"Did you just fold your shirt?"

Shane flushed. "It's a nice shirt."

"We're about to have sex and you're worried about wrinkles?"

"Rose bought it for me," Shane said defensively, but he was already working on his belt. He slipped his pants off, folded them (J.J. had to bite back a laugh), and added them to the neat pile on the table.

"T'es tellement mignon," J.J. said, grinning. You're so cute.

"Shut up." But Shane was smiling as he turned back to J.J., now just in his boxers. "Your turn."

J.J. pulled his own shirt off, tossing it carelessly toward the armchair. Shane made a disapproving sound, and J.J. laughed, heat flooding through him at the absurdity of it all. His pants joined the shirt on the floor, and Shane looked like he wanted to say something about it but got distracted by the view.

"Wow," Shane said softly, his eyes tracking down J.J.'s body.

"Wow yourself," J.J. replied, because Shane was gorgeous. Long limbs and pale skin and firm muscle, and J.J. wanted to taste every inch of him.

They came together again, and the feeling of skin on skin was overwhelming. Shane kissed him like he was trying to memorize the shape of J.J.'s mouth, thorough and intense, and J.J. could feel himself getting harder with every slide of Shane's tongue.

Shane's hands were everywhere, exploring, learning. When his fingers brushed over J.J.'s nipple, J.J. made an embarrassing sound, and Shane immediately did it again, harder this time.

"Fuck," J.J. gasped. "Shane—"

They rutted against each other, still in their boxers, and the friction was incredible and not nearly enough. J.J. could feel Shane hard against his hip, could hear the small desperate sounds Shane was making.

J.J. hooked his fingers in Shane's waistband. "Can I?"

Shane nodded frantically, lifting his hips. J.J. pulled Shane's boxers down, and Shane was fully hard, flushed and beautiful. J.J.'s mouth went dry.

"Tu es tellement beau," J.J. said roughly. You're so beautiful.

Shane covered his face with his hands. "You can't just say things like that."

"Why not?" J.J. stripped off his own boxers, tossing them aside. "It's true."

When Shane peeked through his fingers and saw J.J. naked, his eyes went wide. "Oh."

"Oh?"

"That's—you're—" Shane seemed to lose his words, which J.J. found incredibly satisfying.

J.J. pressed back against him, and they both groaned at the contact. Cock against cock, hot and hard and slick where they were both leaking. J.J. started moving, a slow grind, and Shane's head fell back against the couch cushion.

"Oui, comme ça," J.J. murmured, finding a rhythm. Yes, like that.

Shane's hands came up to grip J.J.'s shoulders, his hips moving to meet J.J.'s. They rutted against each other, messy and desperate, and J.J. couldn't stop watching Shane's face. The way his mouth fell open, the flush spreading down his chest, the small sounds he was making.

"What do you want?" J.J. asked, breathless. "Tell me what you want, Shane."

Shane's face went even redder. "You could—I mean, if you wanted to—youcouldfuckmythighs."

J.J. pulled back slightly. "What was that?"

"You could fuck my thighs," Shane said, stumbling over the words, refusing to meet J.J.'s eyes.

J.J. felt heat flood through him at the image. "Your thighs?"

"Yeah. I mean, I didn't prepare for anything else, and I thought—if you wanted—" Shane was rambling now, embarrassed. "It feels good. Really good. We could do that instead."

"Shane." J.J. waited until Shane looked at him. "That's the hottest thing you've ever said to me."

Shane made a strangled sound. "Don't tease."

"I'm not teasing. I'm just—" J.J. kissed him, hard and quick. "T'es trop mignon when you're embarrassed."

"I hate you," Shane muttered, but he was smiling.

"No you don't." J.J. kissed him again, slower this time. "Show me how you want me."

Shane's breath hitched. He shifted, turning to kneel on the couch facing away from J.J. Then he got on his hands and knees, glancing back over his shoulder. "Like this."

J.J.'s brain nearly short-circuited. Shane's back was a long, elegant line, tapering to a narrow waist. And his ass. Fuck, his ass. J.J. had seen Shane in the locker room a thousand times, but this was different. This was Shane presenting himself, the curve of his ass leading down to thick, strong thighs.

"Mon dieu," J.J. breathed. "Tu es parfait."

Shane shifted nervously. "Is this okay?"

"Okay? Shane, you're—" J.J. couldn't find words. He reached out, running his hand down Shane's back, feeling the smooth skin, the dip of his spine. Shane shivered under the touch.

J.J.'s hand traced lower, over the curve of Shane's ass, and Shane made a soft sound. J.J. took his time, exploring, marveling at the lean muscle, the pale skin, the way Shane's back arched slightly under his touch.

"Tu as un corps incroyable," J.J. said, his fingers finding the dimples just above Shane's ass. He pressed his thumbs into them, fascinated. 

"J.J.," Shane said, and his voice was shaking. "Please."

J.J. moved closer, positioning himself. Shane pressed his thighs together, and J.J. could see the space between them, warm and inviting. He guided his cock between Shane's thighs, and they both groaned at the contact.

The pressure was immediate and perfect. Shane's thighs were muscular and firm, creating an incredible amount of friction. J.J. gave an experimental thrust, and Shane gasped.

"Okay?" J.J. asked, gripping Shane's hips.

"Yeah. Yes. Don't stop."

J.J. started moving, finding a rhythm. Every thrust forward brought him sliding between Shane's thighs, and Shane was making these soft sounds that were driving J.J. insane. J.J. couldn't stop looking at him. The arch of Shane's back, the way his shoulder blades moved. The dimples at the base of his spine that J.J. wanted to kiss.

"C'est tellement bon," J.J. said, thrusting harder. 

Shane pushed back against him, meeting his thrusts. His arms were trembling where they held him up. J.J. could see his cock hanging heavy between his legs, hard and leaking onto the couch cushion.

Someone in Boston got to see Shane like this, J.J. thought with a sharp pang of jealousy. Someone got to have Shane like this regularly, got to watch him fall apart, got to learn all these gorgeous details. Lucky bastard.

The thought made him thrust harder, possessive in a way he had no right to be. Shane cried out, his back arching more, and J.J. gripped his hips tighter.

"Touch yourself," J.J. said roughly. "Wanna see you come."

Shane braced himself on one arm, his other hand reaching between his legs to wrap around his cock. J.J. watched, mesmerized, as Shane stroked himself in time with J.J.'s thrusts.

"So good," Shane gasped. "God, J.J.—"

J.J. was getting close, the heat building at the base of his spine. The slide between Shane's thighs was perfect, the sounds Shane was making were perfect, the sight of Shane's body moving with every thrust was perfect. He traced the line of Shane's back again, following the curve of his spine, pressing his thumbs into those dimples.

"So beautiful," J.J. said. "Tu me rends fou, Shane." You drive me crazy.

"I'm close," Shane warned, his hand moving frantically.

"Come for me," J.J. demanded, thrusting harder.

Shane came with a sharp cry, spilling onto the couch cushion below him. His thighs clenched tighter around J.J., and the increased pressure was enough to send J.J. over the edge.

He came hard, the orgasm hitting him like a wave, spilling between Shane's thighs and onto his skin. J.J. kept moving through it, drawing it out, until he was gasping and oversensitive.

They stayed frozen for a moment, both breathing hard. Then J.J. slowly pulled back, and they both collapsed sideways onto the couch, a tangle of limbs.

"Holy shit," J.J. managed after a moment.

"Yeah," Shane agreed, voice rough.

They lay there catching their breath. J.J.'s hand was resting on Shane's hip, and he traced idle patterns on the skin there. His fingers found raised lines, and he realized with a start that they were stretch marks. Faint silver lines spreading across Shane's hip and disappearing around the curve of his ass.

"Stretch marks," J.J. said softly, tracing them with gentle fingers.

Shane tensed slightly. "From growing too fast as a teenager."

"They're beautiful," J.J. said, following the lines. "Everything about you is beautiful."

Shane made a soft sound, something vulnerable, and J.J. pulled him closer. They were a mess, sticky and sweaty, but J.J. didn't want to move yet. He wanted to stay here, learning the map of Shane's body, memorizing every detail.

Someone in Boston got this regularly, he thought again. Got to trace these same stretch marks, got to see Shane arch and gasp and fall apart. Got to hold him after, warm and pliant and satisfied.

The jealousy was irrational. J.J. had no claim on Shane. This was just tonight, just two friends figuring things out. But fuck, he wanted more of this. More of Shane responsive and gorgeous under his hands.

After a while, Shane stirred. "We should clean up."

"Probably," J.J. agreed, but made no move to let go.

Shane laughed softly. "Your couch is ruined."

"Worth it, baby."

They eventually made it to the bathroom, cleaning off with a wet washcloth. Shane retrieved his neatly folded clothes from the coffee table, and J.J. watched him, amused and fond.

"You want to borrow something to sleep in?" J.J. offered.

Shane hesitated. "I could just go to the guest room."

"Or you could stay here." J.J. kept his voice casual. "Up to you."

Shane's expression softened. "Yeah. I'd like that."

They eventually made it to the bathroom, cleaning off with a wet washcloth. Shane retrieved his neatly folded clothes from the coffee table, and when J.J. offered him a t-shirt to sleep in, Shane accepted with a soft smile.

In bed, Shane immediately curled into J.J.'s side. It felt natural, familiar even. J.J. and Shane and Hayden took turns sharing rooms on road trips to save money, and good teammates cuddled. This was just that. Just comfortable closeness between friends.

Except friends didn't usually have their teammate's come drying on their skin.

J.J. pushed the thought aside and pulled Shane closer. They lay there in comfortable silence, J.J.'s hand tracing idle patterns on Shane's shoulder. After a few minutes, though, he became aware of something pressing against his hip.

Shane was getting hard again.

"Seriously?" J.J. asked, amused.

Shane groaned, covering his face with his hand. "I'm sorry, I can't help it. You're just—you're right there and I can't stop thinking about—" He made a frustrated sound. "Ignore it. It'll go away."

J.J. shifted, rolling Shane onto his back and moving down the bed. "What if I don't want to ignore it?"

"What are you—oh." Shane's eyes went wide as J.J. settled between his legs. "J.J., you don't have to—"

"I want to." J.J. looked up at him, hands on Shane's thighs. "Unless you don't want me to?"

"I want you to," Shane said quickly. "I really want you to. But are you sure? Have you ever—"

"First time for everything," J.J. said, and leaned down to lick a stripe up Shane's cock.

Shane made a strangled sound, his hips jerking. J.J. experimented, trying to remember what had felt good when women had done this to him. He took Shane into his mouth slowly, carefully, and Shane's hand came down to tangle in his hair.

"Fuck," Shane breathed. "J.J., that's—fuck—"

J.J. found a rhythm, bobbing his head and using his hand where his mouth couldn't reach. Shane was vocal, gasping out encouragement and praise that made J.J. want to do better, be better at this.

After a few minutes, Shane tugged gently on his hair. "J.J., come here. Let me—"

J.J. pulled off, confused. "What?"

"Let me make you feel good too," Shane said, his face flushed. "Come here."

It took J.J. a second to understand what Shane was suggesting. Then it clicked. "Oh. Yeah. Okay."

They maneuvered awkwardly until they were on their sides, facing each other's cocks. J.J. had never done this before, and from the slightly uncertain way Shane was moving, he guessed Shane hadn't done it much either.

But then Shane's mouth was on him, hot and wet and perfect, and J.J. lost his train of thought completely.

He tried to focus on returning the favor, taking Shane back into his mouth. It was harder to concentrate when Shane was doing incredible things with his tongue, but J.J. did his best. They found a rhythm together, messy and imperfect but good.

Too good.

J.J. could feel his orgasm building, faster than he expected. Shane must have sensed it too because he pulled back slightly.

"J.J., I'm close," Shane warned. "You should—you don't have to—"

But J.J. was determined. He'd started this, he was going to finish it. He took Shane deeper, ignoring Shane's warning, and moments later Shane was coming with a choked cry.

J.J. tried to swallow, he really did. But it was weird and unexpected and he immediately started coughing, pulling off and nearly choking. Shane scrambled up, rubbing his back while J.J. tried to catch his breath.

"I tried to warn you," Shane said, though he looked more concerned than amused.

"I'm fine," J.J. managed, his eyes watering. "Just—that was—I wasn't ready for that."

Shane grabbed a towel from somewhere (his neatly folded pile of belongings, probably) and handed it to J.J. before wrapping his hand around J.J.'s still-hard cock.

"Let me," Shane said softly.

He worked J.J. with practiced efficiency, his hand moving in a firm rhythm that had J.J. gasping and thrusting up into his grip. It didn't take long before J.J. was coming into the towel with a groan, Shane's hand working him through it.

They collapsed back onto the bed, both breathing hard. Shane set the towel aside on the nightstand, and J.J. grimaced at the taste still in his mouth.

"I'm going to brush my teeth," he announced.

Shane laughed, the sound bright and genuine. "Probably a good idea."

In the bathroom, J.J. brushed his teeth thoroughly while Shane cleaned up with the towel. When J.J. came back, Shane was already under the covers, looking rumpled and satisfied and gorgeous.

J.J. climbed into bed, and Shane immediately curled back into his side. This time, there were no distractions. Just warmth and comfort and the steady sound of Shane's breathing evening out.

"Bonne nuit, Shane," J.J. murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

"Goodnight," Shane replied, already half-asleep.

J.J. lay awake a little longer, feeling the weight of Shane against his side. Tomorrow would bring complications. Tomorrow they'd have to talk about what this meant, where they went from here.

But tonight, Shane was here, warm and sated and sleeping peacefully in J.J.'s arms.

And for tonight, that was enough.