Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories:

M/M, Multi

Fandoms:

Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types

Relationships:

Luca Haas/Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Luca Haas, Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov

Additional Tags:

Trans Luca Haas, Threesome - M/M/M, Established Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Squirting and Vaginal Ejaculation, Puppy Play, just a little, as a treat, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Anal Sex, Nipple Play, Top Ilya Rozanov, Dom Ilya Rozanov, Bottom Shane Hollander, Sub Shane Hollander, Bottom Luca Haas, Sub Luca Haas, Oral Sex, Age Difference, Yum, Coming Out, Light Angst, Subdrop, for like half a second - Freeform, Attempt at Humor, gender euphoria, trans author, Luca didn't tell hollanov that he's trans, and he's scared shane doesn't like pussy, do YOU think Shane Hollander is an eater???, comment down below!, Fuck AI!!! Fuck it to death!!!, I'm reclaiming my em dashes, Under-negotiated Kink, Shane Hollander's big useless cock

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-05-15 Words: 14,716 Chapters: 1/1

Even anxious pups need the moon

Summary

He’s becoming painfully aware of the ginormous rock settling in his stomach while trying to keep the sexy mood alive and not completely kill it by acknowledging the very big, very blue-pink-white striped elephant in the room trying to hide under a singular queen-sized bedsheet. Maybe he could politely ask it to leave?

Any second now, Shane could turn his head and nuzzle into his very flaccid packer and then there would be questions and he would have to reveal that he kind of lied to them and then they’ll probably kick him out because Shane is gay and hates pussy, and Ilya might be bi but what if he doesn’t hate pussy, he just hates it when it’s attached to a guy and holy shit he’ll have to get traded, he’ll have to call Wiebe and tell him to send him as far away as possible, to Minnesota or some shit, because he’s never playing with Ottawa again after this, fuck the elephant is going to be such a bitch to move to Minnesota—

OR: Luca kind of forgets to tell Shane and Ilya that he's trans, but luckily there's a particular skill Shane Hollander never got around to master (Just ask Rose Landry!), and Ilya has a point to prove.

Notes

Both female and male language will be used to describe Luca's genitalia! (pussy, dick, cock, clit, hole)

This started out as a random 10k twitter thread that got out of hand, and now it's almost 5k longer and 10 times filthier. Enjoy!

Also, this is slightly inspired by Puppy!Luca from Show Our Rookie How It's Done by Dandelion_After_Dark.
He has infected my dick and my soul #Haallanov<3

And thanks to my beta for betareading and the Loveseat groupchat for giving me filthy ideas, love ya<3

Title from Orbiter by Noah Kahan

Luca doesn’t have much internalized transphobia left inside himself, and it’s something he’s pretty proud of.

He’s done the work, put the effort and the hours into really truly liking who he is and the body he’s in. It certainly helped that he’s been around supportive friends, mostly online until he got a little older (God Bless Tumblr dot com), had good role models (not including the brief encounter with young transmedicalists he narrowly but thankfully avoided falling victim to when he was a very angry, very sad fourteen year old trans boy browsing YouTube)  and he’s had a loving supportive home to grow up in. All in all, he’s been pretty damn lucky and he’s doing pretty damn good.

He’s finally at a place where he actually likes his body. It’s no longer a war he feels like he’s constantly losing, no longer an uphill battle to find clothes he feels comfortable in. He showers now and doesn’t even think about the fact that he showers. Isn’t that fucking crazy?

It’s gotten to a point where he kind of… forgets that he’s trans?

Not completely, obviously. Mostly because of the whole having a pussy thing, but he’s pretty happy with not having a dick so it isn’t something he thinks about a lot, day to day (he only wears a packer because he’s paranoid that he won’t pass as well without it, which, arguably, might be a little overcautious on his part). He showers in one of the few stalls they have at the rink for privacy, but even that has become routine at this point, and no one has ever questioned him about it either.

The only time he becomes incredibly Aware™ of his transness is during sex. Which, to be frank, he doesn’t have a lot of. He had a girlfriend back home he experimented with in his teens, and when he turned eighteen with barely healed key-hole surgery scars he had a few mediocre bathroom hook-ups at gay clubs, mostly with other trans guys. But the most important take away from his limited sexual history is that he hasn’t gotten laid since he came to Canada. And he’s currently in the middle of his third season with Ottawa, his second season playing on Shane fucking Hollander’s line. All that to say; him, his hand and his dildo are well acquainted by now.

Until three days ago.

Well, kind of. (Does it count as sex if you just came in your pants? He’ll ask reddit later)

The point is that sex is suddenly very much a possibility in Luca’s life again. Which means he’s thinking. A lot.

And— okay, it all started last week, all because Luca made the mistake of changing his routine and stayed after practice to stretch in the gym. He had been sitting in the corner behind the rowing machines where the yoga mats were located. It’s a fairly unused section of the gym because 1) the only player to actually do yoga regularly was Shane and he had his own mat, and 2) everyone stretched, sure, but when they did, they were heathens and just did it wherever (hallways, parking lots, canteen area, bathrooms, etc. etc. Luca once walked in on Wyatt doing the happy baby pose in the shower). Luca was an outlier in the way that he stretched exclusively in the gym, but never on the yoga mats. He usually just did it in the middle of all the machines and weights so he could see himself in the good mirror. Plus, the floor of the weights area had just a little bit of cushioning and great grip, and that was enough for him, so he usually didn’t bother going to the little corner of communal yoga mats and shame. Except for this time.

Luca’s hip had been bothering him ever since he twisted awkwardly a few games back, and so he felt the need to stay a little later than usual and loosen it up. He was trying to do the pigeon pose but the floor in the weights area had been scratching his ankles raw, and so he went to the corner for a yoga mat, rolled it out and proceeded to do his stretching.

And then the door bursted open.

The thing about the yoga corner was that it was decently hidden behind the rowing machines and he was also technically mostly lying down (because he’s pretty flexible. Not to brag or anything), so it wasn’t really a surprise that Ilya and Shane hadn’t spotted him. Well, that, and maybe the fact that they had been actively trying to eat each other at the time, too. Maybe that played a role, who knew? Certainly not Luca. No, his mind went effectively blank the moment he saw Ilya put a hand around Shane’s neck and back him up against the mirror on the far wall. It then proceeded to explode when Shane released a whine.

By the time shirts were off and Ilya’s hand successfully buried in Shane’s shorts, Luca was wetter than the first week after his T-shot. Good God, they looked good. He also knew he had to say something. He then proceeded to watch for another two minutes.

The tipping point was when Ilya’s other hand travelled down the back of Shane’s shorts and done something that made Shane beg for— well, Luca wasn’t sure because he was fairly confident that Shane wasn’t religious. Unless Ilya’s dick had its own religion. Luca honestly wouldn’t put it past him. Either way, the sound that came out of his alternate captain’s lips was enough for Luca to accidentally moan. Out loud.

Shane and Ilya froze immediately, panting and sweaty. Shane’s skin turned a whole new shade of red as Ilya slowly turned his head toward the noise, only to watch an equally red Luca Haas impressively still holding his pigeon pose.

Luca instantly felt like throwing up.

“Oh, my god, I’m— I’m so sorry,” he stuttered, scrambling to his feet with his eyes glued to everywhere but them. Which was hard to do because Luca was horny and here stood his teenage wet dream, spit-glistening lips and flushed skin. Maybe it was better if he just closed his eyes, actually. “I’m sorry, that was— uhm, not on purpose, I was just, uh.”

Shane and Ilya both released audible sighs at the sight of him now standing.

“Jesus Christ, Luca,” Shane mumbled under his breath with his eyes closed and head resting back on the glass. Ilya did the decent thing and removed his hands from Shane’s pants and instead placed them on his own hips as he turned to look at Luca.

Luca pointedly did not look at his straining work-out shorts.

“Why the fuck didn’t you say something?” Ilya asked, voice both tired and covered in annoyance. He then looked at the digital watch on his wrist. “We have been in here for almost seven minutes!”

Luca just gaped because he was certain he could practically see a hickey forming on Ilya’s neck as he spoke.

Shane pulled his hands up to his face. They were both still hard and Luca still wasn’t looking. He wasn’t. (Shut up)

“Uhm,” Luca squeaked, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry, I’m really sorry, you just— seemed so, uhm, locked in? And I just froze because well, you know, holy shit my captains are hot—” he laughed awkwardly and immediately wanted to jump out the nearest window because what the fuck, Luca? “Uh— forget that, actually. Please. I didn’t say that. You didn’t hear me say those words.”

And then Shane and Ilya stared at him, then looked at each other, doing that scary telepathy thing they did, and then back at him again.

“I knew you weren’t straight!” Ilya roared joyfully after several seconds of scary mind-linking with his husband.

Shane groaned. “Ilya.”                                                                                                                                       

Ilya just plowed on, a delight taking over his face that made Luca fear for his life. “You like us, yes? Liked what you saw?”

Luca nodded before thinking, and then Ilya walked closer until his chest was almost touching his.

“You liked seeing Shane beg like that?”

Luca nodded again, barely breathing.

“Me and Shane have been thinking about… opening our relationship. For some fun, you could say,” at that Ilya wiggled his eyebrows. “Could you be interested in that?”

Nothing could have prepared Luca for those words leaving Ilya’s mouth. “Holy shit.”

Not his proudest moment, but the conversation that followed had overshadowed every embarrassing word fumble he had ever done, ever, perhaps. Because they asked him to think it over (what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck—). Which he did. And then he texted them both in their brand-new group chat (what. The fuck. What?) that yes, he was very much interested and that he’d let them use him however they wanted or saw fit (he didn’t actually text that last part, but he hoped they’d get the memo when he hopefully got to suck their souls out of their dicks at earliest notice).

Which led to three days ago, where his captain and alternative captain (and longtime crushes, childhood and current) had invited him out for drinks before somewhat shyly asking if they could drive him home, which then led to an incredibly heated make-out session in their car with tinted windows parked in the corner of an abandoned parking lot. It was awesome, and he had been a fumbling mess, but Shane and Ilya had done a great job of getting him out of his head. He ended up between them, Ilya’s tongue deep in his throat as Shane kissed his neck and played with his nipples over his shirt. Ilya mumbled a low “touch yourself” which made him release a sound he was way too embarrassed about, but he obeyed nonetheless, grinding his palm against his crotch so his packer dug into his clit just right. He came like that, and they kissed him so softly as he came down from the high. Shane stayed in the back with him and ran his fingers through his hair as Ilya drove him home. He fell asleep with a smile on his face and woke up to multiple texts in their group chat the next day saying that they had “a great time”.

But now it’s three days later—after a regular ol’ afternoon practice where Shane and Ilya had pulled Luca aside before they even left the ice and invited him over for dinner which quickly extended to a “tomorrow is rest day, so you’re welcome to stay for a bit” which miraculously led to now—and Luca is standing in the Hollander-Rozanov living room with his captain trying to trace his tonsils with his tongue and his alternate captain at his feet, nuzzling into his husband’s crotch like a kitten begging for pets.

And Luca never claimed to be the smartest in any room ever, but this hole he has managed to dig himself into is pretty impressive, even for him. Because he never actually told Shane and Ilya that he’s trans.

He’d tried to tell them, honest to god he had. But every time he had written out the text, thumb hovering over send, he’d just. Frozen. Because holy shit what if it ruined everything?

So, now he’s slowly becoming painfully aware of the ginormous rock settling in his stomach while simultaneously trying to keep the sexy mood alive and not completely kill it by acknowledging the very big, very blue-pink-white striped elephant in the room trying to hide under a singular queen-sized bedsheet that only he could see. Maybe he could politely ask it to leave?

He knows Shane is gay. Like, full blown homosexual 100% gay gay. What if— fuck, what if he’s the type of gay guy to just hate pussy? Luca knows those exist. He’s met them, almost hooked up with a few of them too before they made it known just how much they didn’t want to hook up with him anymore because they were “gay, honey. Homosexual? It’s literally in the definition that we don’t like pussy.” As if his entire value as a person solemnly lied in his genitalia.

Fuck, he can feel himself go soft. Ilya kissing his neck is currently doing its best to combat that, but the hand slowly running its fingers over the waistband of his jeans makes him jump right back into panic. And here Luca thought the elephant and him were kind of bonding over this whole thing, reaching some sort of mutual understanding and respect.

Any second now, Shane could turn his head and nuzzle into his very flaccid packer and then there would be questions and he would have to answer and reveal that he kinda lied to them and then they’ll probably kick him out because Shane is gay and hates pussy, and Ilya might be bi but he didn’t sign up for this either, and what if he doesn’t hate pussy, he just hates it when it’s attached to a guy and holy shit he’ll have to get traded, he’ll have to call Wiebe and tell him to send him as far away as possible, to Minnesota or some shit, because he’s never playing with Ottawa again after this, fuck the elephant is going to be such a bitch to move to Minnesota—

"Let’s slow down, mmh?"

It’s Ilya’s voice that breaks him out of his head. He realizes that the kissing has stopped which is bad, so he leans in, but Ilya puts a hand on his shoulder to hinder him coming closer and Luca is so so screwed. He just sways on his feet as Ilya sits back on the couch behind him. Ilya pulls Shane closer so he can rest his head on Ilya’s thigh, throwing a pillow down to him for his knees. It’s so sweet and casual that Luca kind of wants to cry. With jealousy or admiration, he’s not quite sure.

He doesn’t get to think about it for long because his mind goes practically blank as hands pull him forward and into Ilya’s lap. Luca is taken so off guard that he just goes, lets Ilya maneuver him around until he’s sitting on his thigh.

He knows he’s flushed. Ilya looks him over, lingers on his face before he pushes his hand under Luca's shirt to stroke the skin on his chest. In a deep voice that makes Luca’s mostly soft dick twitch, he says: "What do you want, Luca?"

Luca pauses, looks away but Ilya is quick and grabs his jaw, so Luca is looking at him. It’s embarrassing how quickly Luca releases a small noise at the action.

Ilya smiles. "Mmh yes, look at me,” he says and Luca can feel the fingers dig into his face, grounding him. “What do you want?” It’s unreal how fucking sexy Ilya makes the question sound. “You want to suck my dick?" At this, Luca can’t fucking help it and grinds down on his thigh with a shutter. Ilya doesn’t react. "Or maybe you want to try my husband's mouth?"

Luca’s breath catches in his throat with thick arousal followed instantly by a heavy rush of dread. He tries desperately to keep his face neutral. He doesn’t know if he’s successful.

"No?" Ilya says, "you don’t want to get your dick sucked by your alternate captain with no gag reflex?" And then he drops a hand to the front of Luca's jeans. Luca's entire body freezes. Ilya’s hand does too.

"I—" Luca starts, lifting his weight off Ilya's thigh which only pushes his crotch harder into Ilya's hand and it definitely doesn’t make it easier to convince anyone that he doesn’t have a flaccid dick in his pants. He knows he’s breathing a little harder, or maybe it’s a little less, actually. He tries not to squirm.

Then Ilya puts an arm around his waist to hold him steady.

"Fuck,” Luca says under his breath and squeezes his eyes shut.

Ilya’s hand immediately moves from his crotch to his hip. "Hey, what happened?” he asks, voice softer. “What changed just now?"

And Luca just can’t do it. He can’t do it, he can’t even open his mouth.

He has to get out of here.

"I, uhm, I think I need to go?" he says, quietly, eyes still squeezed shut.

The hands on him tightened just the tiniest bit.

"Why? Why do you need to go?" Ilya asks, measuredly and, maybe, if Luca isn’t fooling himself, a little desperately.

He slowly puts both hands on Ilya’s shoulders to push himself up. "I'm sorry, I just—"

"Luca, you look upset."

It’s the tone that makes him open his eyes. Shane has left his place on the floor and is now sitting next to Ilya. He carefully puts a hand on Luca's thigh.

"Luca?" he asks, eyes clear and determined.

Luca bites his lips and barely manages to hold back the whine that threatens to escape his throat. Fuck, this is so fucking dumb. He hides his head in his hands but ultimately sits back down on Ilya's thigh.

He tries again, forces his mouth open and tries to focus on Shane’s and Ilya’s warm hands on him. "I'm sorry, I just— I have to tell you something,” he gets out. The hands don’t leave. “And it's fine if you don’t wanna do this anymore afterwards, I promise, it's fine, I just—"

"Luca," It’s Ilya this time, but now Luca can’t seem to stop.

"I'm sorry, uhm. I wasn't keeping it a secret on purpose, I just didn't know how to tell you a-and now—"

"Luca"

Ilya's voice cuts through and Luca stills but doesn't remove his hands from his face.

Shane’s thumb starts rubbing soothing strokes across the fabric of his jeans as he says; "Whatever it is, it's fine.” It’s the voice he uses at practice when he knows one of the rookies needs a bit of patience. “You're fine. You can tell us."

It’s enough to make Luca remove his hands from his face. There’s wetness in his eyes and he hates it because he’s not sad (well, a little, because he might get kicked out and miss out on the best thing that’s ever happened to him), but it’s just a lot, and he still can’t fucking say it, so he lets his hands move and shuts off the part of his brain that’s screaming BAD IDEA ABORT ABORT ABORT and starts unbuttoning his pants, ignoring the way Shane and Ilya both freeze. He gets as far as his button, going to undo his zipper when Ilya’s hands reach out to stop him. Luca lets him but he’s already on the diving board, he might as well just take the plunge since dipping his toes doesn’t seem to be working. And so he says: "You noticed I wasn't hard."

He doesn’t say it like a question, and Ilya doesn’t answer it like one. He just looks at him, waiting for him to continue. So Luca does. He puts his hand down his underwear and— pulls out his packer. Jesus fuck, what is he doing?

"This is my packer," Luca says and his voice is breathy and wavering as he puts it on the couch beside them. "I use it because I'm trans.” He can feel his shoulders hunch more and more the longer he talks. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I know you probably, uh, expected me to have a dick, uhm. So I can— I can leave, if you want, it's okay. I’m sorry."

He can feel his hands shake before Ilya tightens his grip on his waist, as if to keep him there, and Luca swears he sees them share a look. He can’t help but brace for rejection.

"Luca. Calm down." Ilya says. “Take a deep breath.”

It’s not what Luca is expecting so he does. He takes a deep breath, all the way down into his stomach, following Ilya’s own. Ilya does it again, so he does it again, too. They keep going until Luca’s shoulders aren’t against his ears and his hands aren’t clenched. Then there’s a pair of fingers under his chin, lifting his head until his eyes meet Ilya’s.

Ilya’s gaze is unwavering as he says: "You're fine. You understand? You’re fine.”

But Luca doesn’t understand. Okay, so they aren’t bigots, clearly, he knew this already, but what is he supposed to do now? He doesn’t get it.

Ilya clearly sees his unsureness because the next thing out of his mouth is pretty hard to misunderstand: “So you have a pussy, so what?"

Luca flushes as Shane lets out a sharp "Ilya.”

"But I didn't exactly tell you and I know Shane is gay, so—" Luca tries to argue, but Shane is quicker.

"Woah, hey," he interrupts. "Luca, it's fine, that’s not— It's a surprise, yes, but— I mean—" Luca watches Shane get stuck and annoyed at himself before taking a breath. When Shane opens his eyes again, his voice comes out precise and practiced. "It's fine. I promise. I'm into you because you're a man and this doesn't change any of that."

It makes Luca look away again, his eyes can't settle on one thing. Ilya starts to rub his thumb along his skin from where his hand is resting on his back, fingers just underneath his shirt.

"But—" and his voice is still shaky, "I-I know Rose Landry wasn't— I mean I heard you talk about how it wasn't— how it wasn't good at all and—"

"Luca," Shane's voice is uncharacteristically firm and Luca's eyes snaps to his immediately. "Me and Rose didn't have good sex because I'm gay and she's a woman." He releases a shaky breath as Shane holds his gaze. "Not because we had different anatomy."

A tear slides down Luca's cheek and Ilya is quick to wipe it away with his thumb.

"But—" he tries again, because this is too easy. It can't be this easy.

"No buts," Shane says, "I don't have a problem with this, I really really don't."

“The only thing we need to deal with is teach Hollander how to eat pussy," Ilya says shrugging, immediately receiving a slap on the shoulder from Shane. "What? It's true, Rose told me—"

"Ilya, shut the fuck up," Shane says as he drags a hand over his face. He takes a breath before opening his eyes and looks at Luca. "I'm not gonna pretend I know my way around a— uh," his eyebrows draw together as he pauses and Luca suddenly wants to kiss his forehead. "Is… pussy, uhm, okay to say?"

It takes a second for Luca to realize that they're asking him. He straightens up, tries to look put together and totally not like he was just crying a little bit out of overwhelming stuff happening in his brain and his body. "Yeah, yes, that’s— that’s fine. And I, uhm, I call my clit—" He flinches a little as he says it. "I call it my dick sometimes, I guess. But clit is fine, too! And I’m not just saying that to, like— I don’t know, it's honestly all fine, I don't have much... bottom dysphoria, I guess? Other than, like, social? Hence the—" he glances at the packer beside them. "Or I guess when I still used to get periods, but yeah." Heat rises to his face instantly. "Oh god. forget I said that, that’s not sexy."

But Shane and Ilya are looking at him and they're smiling. Shane rubs his hand up and down his thigh now and Ilya's grip on his waist has tightened.

"You can tell us anything, we want you to feel like you can be open, okay?" Shane says and Luca nods softly, almost on instinct.

"Yes, we're happy you told us," Ilya says, surprisingly sober. "It really is not a problem, puppy. We promise."

Luca instantly squirms at the pet name which they both definitely notice. Ilya smiles again.

"I'm gonna need verbal confirmation that you understand, yes?"

Luca nods, then instantly stops and says "okay."

Ilya's smile turns a little evil.

"You want this? Still?"

Luce swears he isn't breathing. "Yes."

"Both of us?"

Holy shit. "Yes."

"And we can touch you?"

Holy fucking shit. "Y-yeah."

"Everywhere?"

You could shove your entire arm up my ass, and I’d write about it in my diary and draw hearts around it. "Ye- yes."

He doesn’t even get a chance to breathe because as soon as the words leave his mouth the fingers on his waist dig in and drag him across the thigh he's sitting on, making his clit rub against the seam of his jeans. It makes him release a humiliatingly high-pitched gasp. His hands instantly find support on Ilya's shoulders as Ilya moves his hips back again, then forward, then back, in a slow steady rhythm.

“F-fuck—" Luca bites back another noise as he feels himself stick to his underwear. He knows there’ll be a visible wet spot on them if his pants come off now.

"How does that feel?” Ilya asks, casually but with that low deep tone that’s clearly his Bedroom Voice. “Good?" Luca is going to be haunted by this voice till the end of time.

His head has fallen forward, chin almost to his chest, as his fingers grip even tighter onto Ilya's shirt. He hums in confirmation, almost forgetting he’s supposed to respond. Instantly, a hand leaves his hips and grabs onto his face, hard, squeezing his cheeks together.

Ilya’s eyes seek his and a shiver runs down his spine.

"I'm looking for an answer, puppy."

Luca can't hold back a whine, and his hips grind down pathetically uncoordinated against Ilya's thigh, all on their own this time.

"Does it feel good?" Ilya asks again, shakes Luca's head a little. Humiliation courses through his body like a tidal wave and it makes him squirm. The grip on his face tightens, which makes him squirm even more. It’s a delicious limbo.

"Y-yes," he manages to push about awkwardly through his squished cheeks.

A thumb enters his mouth. He sucks down on it immediately. Tastes salt and skin. He wants to bite it.

"Shane, go get the collar, both of them." Ilya says, not looking away from Luca.

It takes Luca several seconds to realize what Ilya actually said. He barely registers Shane stiffen beside him, but Luca tries (and fails. Ilya’s grip is strong) to follow him with his eyes as soon as Shane darts off the couch and with speed walks down a hallway. There's another hand slowly making its way from his waist to the front of his stomach. His hips are still moving, a pathetically stuttering grind that isn’t nearly as good as the rhythm Ilya controlled for him. The hand flattens against his skin, dips under his underwear while Ilya's eyes are glued to his face, studying his reaction. Luca lets him see whatever it shows. Fingers make contact with coarse hair, scratches against curls that hide below his underwear and Luca moans, Ilya is so close to touching—

And then Ilya’s fingers find their way. They run through his lips and find wetness. Luca cries out around Ilya's thumb; a thumb that gets replaced with two fingers pressing down on his tongue, as another two fingers run over his hard, wet dick. His hips stutter and buckle, out of his control and embarrassing.

Ilya hums, like he’s satisfied. "Mmmh, you are hard."

The wording of it sends a rush of giddiness through Luca’s body. He’s only ever had other trans guys use words like that about his body, and even though he knows his gender doesn’t depend on the acceptance of cis people, or anyone period, it’s still incredibly exhilarating to hear Ilya talking about him like this without even being prompted to.

So, Luca nods, desperately, sucks the fingers deeper. The two in his pants begin a circular motion that sends Luca's eyes to the back of his skull. It’s painfully good and Luca feels out of control.

"How do you feel?" Ilya asks.

As soon as Luca opens his mouth to respond the fingers push themselves to the back of his throat and he gags. Simultaneously, Ilya's hand push deeper into his underwear, his entire palm rubbing over his pussy, spreading his juices to every inch of him and he can’t stop squirming; his body just can’t decide if he wants to get closer or farther away.

"How do you feel, Luca?" Ilya repeats. Luca sends him a desperate look and then the fingers in his mouth are pulled out.

There's a finger running over his hole. There's drool on his chin. His mind is only providing him with one possible answer:

"Empty."

The finger around his hole continues to rub around it, barely dipping inside him before withdrawing to spread his wetness around. He tries to chase it, tries to rub his clit against Ilya's palm. Ilya hums, allows him to move his hips desperately and clumsily against his hand, but his fingers stop moving. Luca bites his lip, but it doesn’t prevent the pathetic mewl from filling the room.

Ilya tuts. "Poor puppy, your hole is all empty, so hard."

And then he just looks at him as Luca slowly loses whatever composure he has left.

"Uh huh," he slurs, nodding his head keenly, tries to catch Ilya's motionless fingers against his hole to push them inside, but Ilya makes sure to keep them relaxed enough that it doesn’t work. Luca realizes suddenly that it’s tears blurring his vision.

Just when he's about to beg there's movement beside them.

Shane is back and in his hand are two leather collars, one dark brown, one a deep blue. Both have a simple O-ring at the center to clip a leash onto and a simple clasp in the back. They look like real and sturdy dog collars, but Luca knows better than to believe these are for Anya.

Ilya pulls Shane in by his shirt and kisses him deeply. Luca can see their tongues twirling around each other, and he feels his bones melting.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Ilya says as Shane gasps into the kiss. Ilya then pushes him back to sit on his knees beside them on the couch. Ilya's hand leaves his pants quickly as he takes the brown collar from Shane. Luca barely reacts because he’s enamored with the way Shane leans forward without prompting. Like it’s instinct.

Luca watches as Ilya fastens the collar around Shane's throat, and if he was paying more attention, he would've noticed Shane's eyes turning a little glassy and droopy.

The sight of Shane in the deep brown collar makes Luca's stomach tighten with jealousy and want. Shane looks so good in it, so comfortable, and Luca wants to pull on the O-ring until Shane is close enough to kiss. He also craves the feeling of leather around his throat, too.

He glances at Ilya again, tries to hide how his mind is currently going too fast and too slow at the same time.

Ilya eyes him, smiles knowingly and takes the deep blue collar from Shane and turns his eyes on Luca. He tries not to squirm.

"We bought you something," Ilya says and holds up the collar. "We were gonna bring it out later tonight but now seems like a good time too, mmh?"

Luca's eyes are locked on the leather in Ilya's hand, and he quickly licks the spit away that has been collecting at the corner of his lips.

“Shane likes to be my puppy sometimes,” Ilya says, and runs the hand not holding the second collar through Shane’s hair. Shane instantly pushes into it and closes his eyes. Ilya turns back to Luca. “Makes his head nice and quiet. All he has to do is listen to me and do what I say. He follows orders so well, like a dog.” Luca feels Ilya’s calculating gaze on him. He tries hard not to look away. When he licks his lips, he sees Ilya’s eyes jump to his mouth. “You are very good at following orders, too. We thought that maybe you would enjoy being my puppy for a bit, like Shane.” Ilya is still carefully searching his face. Luca is pretty sure he’s drooling. “Only if you want to, you don’t have to wear collar to—”

“I-I want it.” Luca interrupts. “Please.”

Ilya’s face slowly breaks out into a smug, satisfied look.

"You want it?" he asks.

Luca's nodding before Ilya is even finished.

"Out loud, Luca."

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes, please I— please."

Ilya smiles again and before he can blink the leather tightens around his neck with comfortable pressure. He can't hold back the groan that escapes him.

"So pretty, my boys," Ilya says before he shoves the fingers, that have just moments prior been circling Luca's pussy, into Shane's mouth.

Shane makes a surprised noise as Ilya starts to steadily fuck his mouth with them. Luca can't look away. His hips are moving against nothing.

"Taste it, Shane. Really taste it," Ilya says and Shane's eyes are tearing up, but Luca can see his tongue working around Ilya's fingers. "It's good, right?"

Shane moans and nods around the fingers.

"That's Luca's pussy you're tasting"

And then Shane's eyes roll back into his head.

Ilya looks at Luca briefly, his tone dropping into something gentle. “Still okay to use words like that?”

It takes him a second to understand what he’s talking about but when he does a warmth spreads through his gut. He nods eagerly. “Y-yeah, it’s good.”

Ilya smiles and in a flash pulls his fingers out of Shane’s mouth and replaces them with his tongue. When he pulls back Shane's looking hazy and shaky.

"Fuck, sweetheart" Ilya groans. "What a fucking taste.”

Luca can't help the embarrassment and arousal that spread over his entire body.

"Mmh, what now, huh?" Ilya goes on, hands running over both of them casually, their thighs, their waists. "Two puppies who both feel empty and hard, and so fucking whiny." He then grabs onto Shane's crotch, hard. "And this useless dick isn't going to be any help, is it?"

Shane cries out and Luca sees a tear escape his eye. He wants to lick it.

"And you need to learn how to eat pussy," Ilya smirks at Luca's pathetic noise he lets out. "Let's start there, yes?"

It doesn't take long for Ilya to situate them all on the couch, with Ilya sitting with his back against the armrest, Luca lying back on him between his legs, and Shane kneeling in front of him between Luca’s spread thighs.

Luca is down to his boxers; his t-shirt and jeans have been folded and put on the coffee table, along with Shane’s crewneck and pants. Ilya is still fully clothed. Shane's hands are politely folded in his lap and he's gnawing at his lower lip, eyes darting between Ilya's face and where Ilya's hands are tracing the waistband of Luca's underwear and rubbing over his chest, catching his nipples and making him shiver.

"Shane," Ilya says and Shane's head snaps up.

Luca can't see Ilya's face from where he's lying against his chest, but he can hear the satisfaction in his voice.

"Take off his underwear, please."

Luca instinctively draws his knees up a little higher as he makes a whiny sound. Shane's hands immediately go for it and before he can blink his boxers are slowly dragged off and over his knees. Shane moves back a bit to get them off his feet too and then he places them on top of the little pile of clothes on the table before settling between Luca's legs again.

And then Luca bare.

He looks down at himself and tries to see himself with new eyes, with Shane's eyes, Ilya’s too: He's never been a hairy person, but being on T definitely made his inner thighs a lot hairier. They’re covered in surprisingly soft dark blonde curls, and he loves them like this. His happy trail is nothing crazy but it's there and he's proud of it. His dick is poking out from behind his pubic hair; his nerves have made him soften just a bit but he's still mostly hard and he's definitely wet. He finally looks up at Shane and finds his gaze aimed and locked on his crotch, his mouth slightly open and his breathing a little uneven.

Ilya's hands are running up and down his thighs now, dipping to the inner parts every now and then and it's making Luca tremble.

"Are you ready for your lesson?" Ilya asks and Shane doesn't take his eyes away from Luca's pussy as he responds with a breathy "yes".

And then there's a hand trailing down, down, down and Ilya's fingers find his lips and spread them. Luca's hips jump before he can stop them. Ilya's other hand immediately finds Luca's neck and grips over the collar.

"No, no, bad puppy, you lie still. No moving while we play with you," he says and Luca feels pure hot heat in his belly as he feels a sob catch in his throat. He manages to suppress it, but it comes with the cost of releasing a pathetic long whine instead.

There's cold air hitting his pussy and Shane is still looking at him and holy shit this is so embarrassing and it’s making his dick twitch.

Ilya's hand leaves his neck and joins his other one between Luca's legs. "Mmh, see this?" He points at Luca's twitching dick. "What is this, Shane?"

Shane licks his lips, hesitating. "A-a clit?" he says after a beat, eyes briefly flying to Ilya to see if he got it right.

The finger that decides in that moment to rub over Luca's clit makes his head fly back and hit Ilya's chest hard. “A-ahh—”

Ilya shushes him gently.

"No, silly," Ilya says, finger running up and down Luca's dick. "This is a cock. Luca's cock. You’re a little dumb today, puppy.” Ilya tuts and Shane visibly shudder. “Can't you see how it twitches?" As if on cue Luca's cock jumps and he whines. His entire body is buzzing with the way Ilya is talking about him, his body, his— "That's what a cock does."

Shane releases a groan and grinds down on nothing. His cock is hard and visible in his underwear. Luca feels himself leaking at the sight.

"And what do you do with cock, Shane?" Ilya asks.

Heat rises in Shane's cheeks. He’s still looking at Luca’s pussy, at Ilya’s fingers stroking him and spreading him open.

"You suck it," Ilya says, like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. He chuckles quietly as he grabs his clit between two fingers and starts tucking.

Luca gasps, and his legs tense up as he tries to hold still.

"Oh pup, you are so slow today," he says and Shane bites his lip harder. "I don't suck cock. You suck cock. You suck whatever you can get your hands on, isn't that right, solnyshko?"

Shane is nodding fast and shakingly. His eyes are still not looking away from Luca's pussy.

And then Ilya goes completely still behind him.

"Then fucking suck on it."

Shane moves, fast, desperately, and before Luca can register what the fuck is happening a tongue is running up his pussy, nudging Ilya's finger away and makes it up to his hard, aching dick. Ilya’s fingers holding him open stay where they are.

Luca cries out and it makes Shane whine against him which makes Luca cry out louder. Shane’s lips wrap around him, and the vibrations spread chills all over his skin. And then Shane sucks.

Ilya's arm barely makes it across his lower stomach to hold him still in time, keeping him from bucking against Shane's face.

"No, Luca, no squirming, he's learning, yes?" Ilya says patiently as Luca whines in frustration. "Look, see how much he fucking loves it."

And Luca is looking; he hasn't stopped looking. Shane's eyes are closed as he subtly bobs his head in an eager rhythm, taking breaks by running his tongue down to swirl around his hole before pressing it up against the underside of his hard clit.

"Does he taste good, puppy?" Ilya asks, and Shane whines again, buries himself deeper, and Luca can't breathe. Ilya's arm leaves him briefly to grab Shane's hair and roughly pull him away.

Luca groans at the loss but the sight of Shane, eyes half lidded and droopy, chin wet and glistening, is making his hole clench around nothing.

"I asked you something," Ilya says, voice deep and colder than before.

“Hhnngg—” Shane cries out and Luca swears he can see him pulling harder against the hold Ilya has on him, like he’s chasing the burn of it.

"Does he taste good?"

"Yes! Yes, he tastes so good, he—" He doesn’t get to finish because Ilya decides to shove Shane's face into his pussy again.

“Fuck,” Luca gasps as Shane doesn't hesitate to resume his lesson. The movements of his tongue are messier and less coordinated than before. Luca's inner thighs are wet and messy. It's like he can feel it dripping out of him only to be slurped up by Shane.

"Good boy, Shane, get him off," Ilya mumbles against his curls.

Shane's effort seems to double, and the hand leaves his hair to hold Luca's hips down again.

Luca can't control his voice, he knows he's saying something, making some type of noise and that it's loud but he can't stop it and he doesn't care because Shane Hollander is currently eating him out and he's about to fucking come—

Ilya pinches his hip teasingly, getting his attention instantly. "You still feel empty, puppy?" Luca is nodding before he’s even done speaking. He pinches his hip again and hums approvingly before saying: "Shane, put a finger inside him."

Luca instinctively clenches down around nothing and frantically grabs onto Ilya’s arm, just to hold onto something.

Shane adjusts his arm underneath him and then there's a fingertip running around the edges of Luca’s hole. As it slowly dips inside Luca's eyes squeeze shut and his head falls back.

"Mmmh it’s good, isn't it?" Ilya says and the fingers holding him open shift, they maneuver around Shane’s head until Luca feels a second finger right at his entrance. "Good boy. Deep breathe now."

It shoves in.

Luca can feel an orgasm creep up on him, deep from his gut. Ilya's finger is barely all the way in because of the difficult angle but the stretch at his entrance is enough for Luca to lose his mind over it. It's like Ilya is prodding around down there, twists and turns to see what makes him twitch. Spoiler, it all makes him twitch.

"F-fuck-" he gasps when Shane's broad tongue laps at him.

Shane's eyes are closed, he's less desperate now, more... calm. At peace. Like he doesn't have to be anything else besides a hot tongue for Luca to get off on.

"Please, please, it's— ah!"

"It's what, Luca?" Ilya says, voice low against his temple.

Shane has started to fuck his finger in and out of Luca, rubbing against his inner walls.

"It's— fuck, it's so good, please, please—"

Ilya hums, almost like a growl, and then he removes his finger. Luca cries out at the loss but then there's a hand on his neck. It squeezes and Luca falls quiet, his vision falls out of focus, it's bliss.

"Shane, lyubimiy, put another finger inside him."

And then Shane starts fucking him with two fingers. His lips are back around his cock and he's sucking on it, subtly bobbing his head up and down, and Luca gets a head rush because Shane is giving him a— blowjob? He's eating him out and giving him a blowjob and he's fucking his fingers into him and—

The hand on his neck tightens, makes the collar dig into his skin, and he releases a low groan.

"There you go," Ilya says gently against his temple again, lips brushing his soft curls. "This head needs to be empty, I think. So many thoughts, so stressed. This is better, yes? You look so pretty, Luca. So pretty letting Shane practice on you. You think he's good enough to make you come?"

Between his legs Shane lets out a noise and presses harder against Luca.

"Make him come, puppy," Ilya says and then Luca loses himself to it.

His eyes are rolling back into his head, he's squirming against Ilya's hands where he's holding him still, a grip on his throat and an arm over his hips. They're sturdy so Luca lets go a little, stops holding back when he's sure Ilya's not giving him an inch. He stops trying to control his body, his movements and lets himself squirm.

He lets go; lets his eyes relax, zone out; his legs fall wider to the side; unclenches his hole so Shane can put a third finger inside him, relaxes into the stretch. There's drool on his lower lip and his brain has a five second delay by now, so he barely reacts when the hand on his neck twists his head to the side and up for Ilya to lick the spit away with his tongue.

And then he's being kissed, deep and forcefully, and his jaw is slack and there's definitely spit spreading all over his chin. He feels heat spread in his gut.

"Hhhhngg— ah—"

His mouth is open and it takes only a second before two fingers are stuffed deep into his mouth and press down on his tongue. His lips close around the digits immediately, sucking on them, his eyes falling close.

"Come on, Luca," Ilya growls and the tone switch is enough for Luca's fingers to flex his hand flying up to grab at Ilya's wrist, not pulling it away, just holding it steady. "He's doing so good, don't you think?"

Shane groans against him and Luca keens around the fingers in his throat, and it's like it's being pulled out of him, slowly and all of a sudden at the same time.

"You will come now, Luca, nice and easy, fucking do it—"

It washes over him, like a tidal wave. He bites down on Ilya's fingers as nails dig into his hip, holding him down as he thrashes. It's so much, it's so much and he's coming, he's coming, he keeps coming—

"Fuck, shchenok, look at that, fuck," Ilya breathes. "I can't wait to fuck you. You hear that? How fucking wet you sound? Mmmhh you’re probably gonna squeeze me to death, yes?"

Between his legs Shane is panting, his cheek is resting against Luca's inner thigh, and he looks so fucked out. His chin is wet and his mouth is slack. Luca wants to kiss him.

"Gorgeous," Ilya's arm leaves his waist and a hand run through Shane's dark sweat-soaked strands. "Look at you, always such a fucking fast learner. Always have to be the best at everything."

Shane nuzzles into the hand, eyes closing against the sensation.

"Except fucking, mmh?" Ilya's hand quickly grabs Shane's hair and pulls. "I'm gonna have to fuck Luca all on my own. If you're lucky I'll fuck you after."

Ilya moves them to the bedroom.

Luca watches from the bed as his captain gets naked. He’s seen it all before in locker rooms scattered across two countries but there’s something different about seeing him now strip his shirt to reveal a chest he’s for once allowed to look at.

When his pants drop Luca hears himself inhale sharply. Ilya winks.

Shane is naked now, too, hovering near the bed with his hands behind his back.

Ilya is taking off his socks when he looks at Shane. “Get on the bed, shchenok.”

Shane immediately does so. He sits beside Luca but not taking his eyes off Ilya. Ilya smiles, throws his bundled-up socks on the pile of clothes in the corner of the room.

“Kiss him,” Ilya says and Luca’s stomach flips. “Make each other feel good while I get some stuff,” he pauses his walk towards the bedroom closet to raise a finger at them as he gives a teasing smile that has an underlying heat to it. “But not too good.”

And then Luca and Shane stare at each other, just for a moment, before Shane reaches out, runs a hand through Luca’s curls and pulls him to his mouth. Luca gasps into Shane as their tongues meet. He doesn’t know who moans first, he just knows that the sound makes his entire mouth vibrate in delight. It feels like he blinks and then they’re lying down, side by side, chest to chest. Shane’s hands are running all over him, down his back, over his waist and up his chest. A thumb runs over his nipples as another hand grabs his ass.

He’s doing similar things to Shane because it feels like he doesn’t have a choice, his hands are moving all on their own across skin he has only ever dreamed of touching. He’s running fingers through soft dark hair and over a barely-there beard stubble, over freckled shoulders and bruises from last night’s game. It’s a bliss and they’re both wonderfully lost.

“Beautiful.”

Ilya’s voice makes them break apart and turn their heads towards him, like dogs who hear the bag of treats.

Ilya is placing different items on the bed as he looks at them. Luca immediately clocks a dark purple dildo and a bottle of lube.

“Since you treated Luca’s pussy so good and made him come on your tongue, I will let you have your favorite toy, sweetheart,” Ilya says and Shane immediately sits up. The dildo is held out between them. “Stick it to the headboard, please.”

Luca sees the whine appear on Shane’s face before it’s released. It’s pitiful and childish, and Ilya just chuckles at him as Shane takes the dildo from his hand and climbs up to the headboard.

Luca moves out of the way and watches as Shane uses the suction cup at the base of the dildo to stick it to the flat headboard at around hip height.

“Luca, come here.” Luca’s eyes snap back to his captain who very much isn’t chuckling anymore.

He crawls closer. As soon as he’s within reach Ilya hooks a finger into the O-ring of his collar and pulls him into a filthy kiss. It makes Luca’s head spin.

Ilya positions himself across from Shane at the other end of the bed on his knees, sitting back on his heels and thighs slightly spread. His cock hard and Luca realizes through the haze that Shane takes that thing on a regular basis. He thought Shane’s backhand was impressive but this genuinely makes Luca look up to him in a whole new light.

Then Ilya looks at Luca and slaps his thighs like he’s asking him to— sit? Fuck.

“Your back to me, puppy. Face forward, good.”

Luca’s tries to follow Ilya’s instructions, but luckily there’s hands guiding him until he’s sitting on Ilya’s lap with his back to his chest. Luca carefully rests his weight on him and suddenly he feels the hard shaft of Ilya’s cock settle against his pussy, the entire length nuzzling up against his slit. He moans, high and embarrassing, and tries to grind down on it but Ilya’s hands on his hips still him before he can even make the attempt.

“Shchenok, I want you to fuck yourself on your dildo while you watch how you fuck a pussy. We don’t want to repeat Rose, no?” Ilya says casually. “Luca’s pussy deserves better than that, so it’s very important you pay attention.”

Shane, who’s facing them on his hands and knees, drops his head with a whine.

“Come on sweetheart. Do it,” Ilya says, harder tone this time and something in Shane snaps because he instantly reaches for the lube. “No fingers, just lube. You can take it.”

Ilya’s hips have started to move against Luca in a slow rocking motion, and an arm has settled around his waist to pull him tighter against his chest. He can feel the head of Ilya’s dick catch the underside of his clit with every grind and Luca desperately claws at the arm across his body that’s holding him still.

In front of him Shane coats the dildo with lube with shaky fingers before settling back on his hands and knees and reaches back to line up. He’s looking teary-eyed and there’s a subtle keening noise coming from him.

“Do it, pup.” Ilya says calmly, but firmly.

As soon as Shane starts to push back, he releases a sob, head hanging low and arms shaking where he’s holding himself up.

Luca expects Ilya to coo at him and praise him, but Ilya lets out a laugh, loud and sharp.

“Don’t act like you don’t like when it hurts, I can see you dripping all over the sheet,” he says and Shane whines, continues to push back on the dildo. “You can do it, yes, there you go.”

Luca sees the moment Shane bottoms out because his left arm gives out as he cries, dropping to his elbows on the bed. Ilya doesn’t let up.

“Hole so fucking lose you don’t even need prep,” Ilya continues and it pulls another sob out of Shane, whose hips have started to move back on the toy, slowly fucking himself on it. “Such a slut, so pretty, fuck.”

And then there’s hands reaching between Luca’s legs, moving with a speed like they’re in a rush, grabbing his hips to slightly raise them and— holy shit.

The head of Ilya’s cock breaches him without warning and the air in his lungs vanish. Luca flails to grasp into something, Ilya’s arms, his neck, his hair, anything to pull him back down to earth as Ilya’s cock slowly enters him. His hands settle on the arm wrapped around his stomach and Ilya’s hip perfectly pressed up against his own.

Shane, who has lifted his head and clumsily gotten both arms under himself again, lets out a wail and starts to fuck himself back on the dildo faster. He’s so uncoordinated; with his mouth hanging open, drool on his chin, and the dazed look his eyes carry; eyes that are still cloudy, locked onto Luca’s body pulled tight against Ilya’s chest with his cock dipping inside him.

Luca’s head has fallen back on Ilya’s shoulder. His body is useless, a ragdoll, he’s barely holding any of his weight, almost just completely sitting back on Ilya’s lap.

“Hahh— ah!”

There’s a growl of something Russian next to his ear that makes a pathetic noise escape his throat and then a pair of teeth find his neck. When they bite down Ilya snaps his hips. The result is glorious.

“Are you always this wet, puppy?” Ilya breathes against him through gritted teeth as he pumps his cock in and out of Luca’s hole. “Fucking dripping, you’re making such a mess.”

Luca feels his hole stretch with every thrust, feels Ilya’s cock drag against his insides and fill him out. “Pl-please please ple— hnng— please, I-I can’t—”

Ilya growls against his ear as his hips speed up. “What can’t you? Tell me.”

Luca is a mess; blabbering loudly, crying out nonsense, he has no idea half of the stuff he’s saying, he just knows that Ilya’s hips pound against him, slamming against his ass. He gives up trying to hold back.

“Speak, Luca, concentrate,” Ilya says against his cheek, pulling his hips back against his own hard enough for that embarrassing sound of skin clapping together to fill the room. Ilya’s teeth nip at his earlobe.

Luca’s hand flies up and finds Ilya’s hair to grip onto, tightly. “You’re so—fuck— deep,” he slurs and then a hand leaves his hip to grab his neck again, over the collar.

“Where am I deep, puppy?” Ilya says, teeth still nipping, biting at his earlobe. His hips haven’t slowed down. “What am I fucking? Say it so Shane can learn, yes?”

Luca’s eyes roll into the back of his head, but Ilya grabs his jaw, forcing his fingers into the hinges to pry his mouth open.

“You are no longer empty, right? So, tell us, use your words.”

Luca snaps. “Hah hngg my h-hole, It’s full, it’s—  Ilya— “

“That’s right, good boy, Luca, fuck, you’re gripping me so tight, like your pussy doesn’t want me to leave.” Ilya lets out as the hand tightens its grip on his jaw and angles his head down. “Looks like someone else is enjoying this, too.”

Luca’s vision is blurry and it’s only then he realizes his cheek is sticky with tears, but even through the fog Shane Hollander looks fucking beautiful.

The man in question is moving back onto the dark purple dildo like his life depends on it. Luca thinks he’s crying too but it’s hard to tell. The noises that leave his mouth certainly sound like sobs and Luca swears his lips look so shiny and wet like nothing he’s ever seen before, not even in porn.

“Look at him,” Ilya growls, voice low and just for him. “So pretty when he cries, don’t you think?” Luca’s face is still held so tightly that he doesn’t have a chance to nod. “He’s gonna make you come one more time for me.”

Ilya then reaches out and yanks at Shane’s hair, pulling it until Shane’s eyes snap up to Ilya’s face. Luca can vaguely feel himself be shuffled forward a few inches, but it doesn’t click as to why until Ilya pushes Shane’s head down and into his pussy, which is now within reach and right at eye-level with Shane’s flushed and wet face.

Luca cries out as Shane’s nose bumps his sensitive clit, but he can’t draw back; not when Ilya’s hips have started to move again, fucking into him in long hard strokes that he swears he can feel in his stomach.

Shane fumbles to find his balance with Ilya holding his face firmly against Luca’s pussy, but like with everything else, Shane succeeds and soon a pair of lips close themselves around his dick and suck, and then Shane is being effectively spit roasted in doggy style by Luca and the dildo he’s still trying to fuck himself on.

Luca can’t escape. He’s trapped between the cock that’s trying to enter his throat through his guts, and the spit-glistening lips around his dick with a mouth that hums like it’s the most delicious thing it’s ever tasted. The humming sends shockwaves through his skin, his nerves and he feels something dangerous brewing in his stomach. It’s different than before.

Luca squirms, tries to get away clumsily and unsuccessfully. “Fuck, fuck, wait— oh my g-od, Ilya, something’s— wait—”

Ilya doesn’t stop, but he does nose comfortingly against his cheek. “What, baby?”

The pace his hips are setting is fast and deep. If he was more coherent, he would’ve dropped a hand to his lower stomach to feel if Ilya’s cock made an indent from inside him.

But Ilya’s arm is holding him tight over his stomach, pressing firmly against his skin and— fuck, something feels weird, it’s almost like— almost like he has to— fuck.

“Ilya Ilya Ilya wait ohmygod wait I’m gonna— Ilya I’m gonna pee, I’m gonna pee, I’m—”

The arm over his stomach suddenly releases him and he cries out in relief as the pressure eases.

His relief is short though because the next second Ilya’s hand press down on his lower stomach, hard.

“Yes, Luca, good boy, c’mon,” Ilya groans, hips drilling into him, thrusting him forward against Shane’s mouth, essentially making him fuck his face. ”Give it to us, fucking do it, let go, let go Luca—"

Luca can’t breathe but he cries out anyway, loud and sobbing as Ilya’s cock slam into him over and over again, and his dick rubbing over Shane’s tongue as he drips into his mouth. It’s the hand pressing down on his stomach extra hard that does it, though.

Like a rubberband, Luca’s body forces him to let go.

“Ohmygodohmygodfuck haahh—”

There’s electricity running through his veins as the orgasm rushes over him. His hole pulses around Ilya’s cock as he sprays fluid all over Shane’s face. He’s squirting; gushing wetness with every thrust of Ilya’s hips and it just keeps going, he keeps coming and he keeps squirting, he can’t stop, he can’t stop—

“Fuck oh god Luca, good boy, look at you, fucking squirting all over my cock, fuck—"

He can’t look away from the sight: Ilya’s hand digging into his stomach just above his pubes, Shane’s face that drips with wetness, still sucking and licking at his clit like he barely even notices the last gush of fluid emerging from Luca’s hole and hits his chin, then the sheets.

He wants to lick him clean.

His orgasm ebbs away, leaving his limbs shaking and loose. He collapses back on Ilya’s chest who has now slowed his thrusts to a soothing grind. Luca’s own hips stutter and he’s pretty sure he’s hiccupping or drooling or both. He barely registers Ilya pushing Shane’s head away.

He does however notice Ilya slowly pulling out.

He whines and immediately squirms, but Ilya’s holding him steady with a hand running soothing circles on his stomach and a voice shushing him gently against his curls.

“Shh I know, it’s okay puppy,” Ilya hums against his temple. Luca clenches around Ilya’s dick without meaning to, like his body is clinging to it, desperate to keep it inside, keep it warm, keep him filled.

He swears he doesn’t cry when Ilya finally pulls all the way out. Hands are moving him until he’s lying down on soft pillows, and then a hand is grabbing his wrist and guiding him to reach between his legs and—

“Stick two fingers inside, come on, good boy,” Ilya soothes, shaping his fingers to have two pressed together and guiding them to his hole. Luca whines but lets Ilya push them shallowly into his twitching hole. As soon as the stretch hits he calms down. “See, it’s better, yes? Good job, puppy.”

Luca nods slowly and looks up at Ilya. His face is flushed and his dick is still rock hard. Luca wants it so bad inside of him again. His fingers slowly begin to pump a little. Ilya smiles.

“There you go, you’re so good, sweetheart,”

And then Ilya is moving and Luca’s following him with his eyes, and— oh.

Shane is next to him, still on all fours with a dripping chin and tears in his eyes. He’s fucking himself weakly back onto the dildo still attached to the headboard.

Ilya’s shifting over to him, a hand running through Shane’s hair to which Shane’s nuzzles into it.

“You’ve been so good, too, Shane,” Ilya says to Shane and Luca blushes at the tenderness in his voice. Ilya’s dick is hanging at eye level and Luca sees the moment Shane realizes, because just a second ago Shane couldn’t take his eyes off Ilya’s face but the moment his cock comes close to his face Shane’s eyes lock in, not moving an inch.

Shane’s mouth opens with a moan, tongue falling out and then he’s leaning forward, only for Ilya to grab his hair hard enough to jerk his head back.

“No no, baby, your hole is too needy, you know this,” Ilya says like it’s something he’s explained to Shane a thousand times and it’s ridiculous that he has to explain it again. He then grabs Shane’s biceps and pulls, making Shane almost fall forward and land on his face if it wasn’t for Ilya’s hands catching him.

Luca startles at the cry Shane lets out and is confused until he looks to his right and sees the purple dildo exiting Shane’s ass. He grinds down on his own fingers with a whimper.

“Your hole needs dick, yes? My dick,” Ilya says, like he’s explaining that two plus two equals four. “And I think maybe you deserve reward, too. You made Luca come so prettily, did such a good job sucking his dick and letting him squirt all over your handsome freckles, I’m so proud of you.”

Shane sobs, “Ilya, please please I need—”

Ilya grabs him by the jaw and shakes his head. “Mmmh yes, you need cock and you will get it, but you need to be fucking patient,” he says which only serves to make Shane whine some more, noise muffled by his squished cheeks.

Ilya then makes quick work of removing the dildo from the headboard and putting it on their nightstand before he moves Shane, guides him, helps him onto his back besides Luca, bumped up against the headboard with his knees bent and spread. It puts Luca’s head right at Shane’s shoulder. He lets it drop against his new soft headrest, seeking out the hot skin with his lips and running them over it. His fingers inside him have stopped moving, instead just resting, soothingly and comfortable.

“Luca,” Ilya’s voice is clear and Luca’s eyes snap up instantly. He’s kneeling between Shane’s thighs with his hands resting on his bent knees. “I will fuck Shane’s hole now,” Shane makes a noise that is quickly shushed by his husband.

Ilya doesn’t take his eyes off Luca as he off-handedly reaches down and stuffs two fingers down Shane’s throat. Shane instantly hums around them, sucks them deeper and grips Ilya’s wrist with both hands.

“You will help me make him come,” Ilya continues. Luca nods shakily. “You want to know how?”

Luca’s nods more vigorously and his hole clenches around his fingers.

“Words, puppy.”

Luca breathes in sharply. “I wanna— I wanna know how, please—”

“Good job, Luca,” Ilya praises and smiles. Luca sees the moment his eyes harden. His breath hitches. “You will suck on his tits while I keep his hole occupied.”

Shane whines around Ilya’s fingers which causes Ilya to hiss and swiftly pull them out from between Shane’s lips. Luca doesn’t even have time to figure out what happened before Ilya slaps Shane’s face, like a warning.

“Ah, no biting, bad dog,” Ilya says and Shane’s hips thrust weakly into the air against nothing. “You bite me again and I will go get your cage, you know this, shchenok.”

“’m sorry, ‘m sorry—” Shane cries but his dick is drooling against his stomach. Luca licks his lips.

“Yes, so sorry, of course you are,” Ilya says and the condescending tone makes Luca go back to thrusting his fingers in and out of his pussy. Ilya’s gaze immediately jumps to the movement. He smiles.

Hands grip the back of Shane’s knees and push them up, and then Ilya’s cock is sliding over Shane’s hole. Ilya’s hips roll, rubbing the head of his dick up and down between Shane’s cheeks. He looks over at Luca again.

“Guide me inside him,” Ilya says, voice clear and sharp. Luca’s fingers stop moving. “Now.”

He pulls his fingers out of his hole with a gasp and then he’s moving up on his knees. With shaky hands he reaches for Ilya’s dick. As soon as he makes contact Ilya hums approvingly.

“Good,” he says, hips still rolling lazily.

Luca’s fingers circle the hot skin, still wet from being inside him and he can’t resist: He jerks his hand up and down, mesmerized by the sheer size of it and the fact that it had just been inside of him. Ilya groans beside him.

“This is not being good, Luca,” he says and hisses.

Luca flushes and stops, instead choosing to grip the head of Ilya’s cock and guide it until it rests on Shane’s loose hole. He holds it there as Ilya’s hips push forward, dick catching Shane’s rim and finally slide inside.

Shane releases a groan as he throws his head back and breathes heavily.

“Fuck,” Ilya curses, “such a hungry fucking hole.”

Luca can’t take his eyes off where they connect, he can’t even think enough to reach down and touch himself. He can only watch as Ilya’s cock slowly drag out before pushing inside again, and then again, and then again, until Ilya builds up a pace that’s hard and slow.

A hand suddenly grip the back of his hair and pulls his head up with a hurtful jerk that makes heat travel down from his navel to his clit. Luca meets Ilya’s hard gaze.

“You wanna be a good puppy, yes?” he asks but Luca knows he isn’t really asking. They both know he wants to be a good puppy so bad. He nods anyway, as much as he can against the grip in his hair. Ilya smirks. “Then play with him.” And then Ilya shoves him down, makes him fall on his side right next to Shane Hollander getting fucked by his husband.

Shane’s head is still thrown back, and Luca can see that his eyes are squeezed shut. His big broad chest is heaving and it’s glistening with sweat and it looks so fucking inviting. Luca leans down, spreads a hand over Shane’s sternum, runs it every way until his thumb catches a nipple and runs over it. Shane’s constant flow of whiny sobs gets a tad bit higher in pitch. Luca does it again. It becomes addicting immediately and soon Luca has both hands running up and down Shane’s chest, teasing his nipples, pulling them, twisting them, cataloguing the different results.

“Good boy, Luca,” Ilya says and he sounds out of breath from where he’s been keeping his hips at a steady pace. “Keep going.”

Luca squirms at the praise as he twists Shane’s nipples again, making him twist and squirm against Ilya’s hold on him.

Before he can stop himself, he leans down and runs his tongue over one.

Immediately, Ilya curse above him, a mumble of fast-paced Russian, and Luca can feel the movement of his thrusts course through Shane’s body as his rhythm quickens. Shane cries out, but Luca isn’t paying attention anymore. He’s humming against Shane’s chest, licks at the sweat-covered skin and sucks and bites and nuzzles. He twists his body so he’s lying comfortably on his side, almost leaning over Shane, but definitely lying a little bit on him. His lips close around the brown nipple and he sucks, runs his tongue in circles around it. His hand kneads Shane’s other peck. His head goes blissfully quiet again.

Ilya’s hips pistol in and out of Shane’s hole at a pace that can only be described as punishing, and the skin-on-skin echoes through the bedroom. Shane is a mess; slack and boneless and wet.

“Take it, take it— “ Ilya murmurs through gritted teeth.

Shane’s mouth hangs open, drool collecting on his chin. “I am, ‘m takin— m’ taking it, it’s so good, s’good, Ilya, Ilya it’s hahh—” he whines, as his body trembles.

Luca’s mouth is still wrapped around his nipple, and he’s pinching at the other one mindlessly. Sometimes he lets his teeth close around it with gentle pressure and it makes Shane’s grip in his hair tighten before his face gets pushed down harder against Shane’s chest, a clear sign to keep going.

Luca barely notices that his own hips gently rocking back and forth, his swollen dick catching Shane’s hip at times, making him hum against Shane’s skin. He can feel Shane’s body move with Ilya’s thrust, the way he scoots back and forth on the bedsheets, as the noise of skin hitting each other continues to bounce from wall to wall.

He pops off Shane’s sensitive nipple and turns his head to rest it on his sternum. Like this he’s blessed with a view of Ilya between Shane’s thighs, sweat dripping down his chest and his cock thrusting in and out of Shane’s hole like he owns it. He probably does. Shane’s own cock is lying against his lower stomach, drooling and neglected.

The travel is slow, from Shane’s cock up to Ilya’s face but his eyes make the journey anyway and he finds Ilya’s eyes already on him.

“Keep going, pup,” Ilya says and then groans as though Shane tightens around him. “Play with him. It’s so fun, isn’t it?”

Luca’s eyes are drooping as he nods against Shane’s chest and his attention immediately fall on Shane’s dripping, dark, red cock. His mouth falls open and his tongue licks at his lower lip. His head moves before he can think about it.

“Ah ah puppy, not that toy,” Ilya snaps and Luca freeze instantly, looks back up at Ilya who curse something in Russian and thrusts in deep, stays there for a beat to grind. “We’re not playing with that toy tonight,” at this Shane releases a high, painful sob. “Shush, malish.”

Before Luca can understand what’s happening there’s a hand in his hair that pulls him, hard, up against Shane’s skin, up his chest and twists it away from Ilya. It’s Shane’s hand and it’s shoving Luca’s face against his pecks, like a frustrated animal trying to tell you it needs something.

Luckily Luca’s tongue is already out.

Ilya chuckles at the sight of Luca’s tongue back to running over Shane’s brown nipple. “See, puppy, he got impatient,” he says as Shane cries out when Luca decides to bite. “Trouble, both of you, so much trouble.”

Ilya let’s one of Shane’s legs go but Luca doesn’t even notice, he’s too lost in the haze of making Shane Hollander sound so pretty as his nails scratch against his scalp and keeps his head firmly pressed against soft muscular tissue.

And so, Luca has no way of preparing for the three fingers that roughly shove themselves inside his hole.

“You made a fucking wet spot on our bed, Luca,” Ilya grunts as Luca gasps, then sobs. Ilya starts fucking his fingers in and out of his pussy at the same pace he’s pounding into Shane’s ass. Luca grips onto Shane as his body rocks with the thrusts. The sound of his wet hole being fucked is almost louder than Ilya’s thighs slapping against Shane’s.

Luca cries out as Ilya’s hand works his pussy with slow deep grind. His forehead is resting on Shane’s sweaty skin as he tries to spread his legs even more.

And then a pressure runs over his— fuck—

Luca sharply inhales as he turns to look at Ilya with wide eyes.

“And what about this hole? This hole is fucking wet, too,” Ilya asks as one of his fingers twists down to press against his rim. “I could probably fuck you with no prep like Shane because you’re fucking dripping all over our sheets,” the finger moves again and Luca instinctively moves his hips downward to meet the pressure of it. He’s suddenly desperate for Ilya to push inside, to make space for himself inside him there, too. “Deep breath, puppy.”

Luca’s lungs obey before Ilya even finishes, and then a finger pushes into his ass.

A deep guttural groan shakes the walls of the bedroom. Luca’s teeth seek out anything to bite onto as the pressure threatens to make him come undone. He finds Shane’s chest and bites down, making Shane whine pathetically.

“Fuck, look at that,” Ilya says, and he sounds like he’s in awe of what he’s seeing between Luca’s legs. The finger slides out and then in again, and Luca would be embarrassed by how easy his body takes it if it didn’t feel so fucking good. His jaw relaxes as Ilya starts fucking him with his hand, one finger in his ass and two fingers his pussy. “I knew you would be easy like this,” he growls.

Luca feels his body hum as a third orgasm creeps up on him, deep in his gut. He feels himself zone out, reducing him to a puddle of nerves.

“I did not tell you to stop playing with your toy,” Ilya then snaps but Luca can’t look away from the sight of Ilya’s fingers fucking in and out of him. He doesn’t register anything being said to him.

It’s when a thumb flicks at his dick that his eyes widen and snaps back to reality. Somewhat. He’s still floating a few meters off the ground.

“Fucking useless puppy, so dumb when your holes are full,” Ilya says, gently, softly, like he’s fond of being allowed to say those words. “Look at him, Luca,” and then Ilya nods at Shane, making Luca turn his head and look. Shane’s eyes are barely open, there’s tears on his cheeks, his face blissfully slack and relaxed. There’s that same near constant keening sound leaving his lips.

“You see that? Shane is so close,” Ilya continues, and then he picks up the speed, thrusts faster, deeper, frantically. “He deserves to come, yes? For making you squirt all over my dick?”

Luca clenches around the fingers fucking him, tries to keep them there, as the thumb on his dick continues that unforgiving motion. “Uh huh,” he manages to say, because anything other than vowels is too hard. Ilya just smiles fondly before it turns into something a little meaner.

“Then suck his fucking tits,” he growls.

It becomes a blur from there. Shane is still holding Luca to his chest as his tongue runs over him, around him, his teeth grazing and biting him ever so slightly, on accident because Luca is anything but coordinated right now. Ilya’s hands are gripping them both hard, one hand digging its fingers into the back of Shane’s thigh, leaving little half-moons on his skin from his nails, and the other gripping Luca’s pussy as his fingers lodge in deep and rubs up against his walls and there’s still a finger in his ass and a thumb catching his twitching cock.

“I want you both to come, now, fucking do it, do it—"

And that’s all it takes.

Luca’s entire body locks up, and he bites down on Shane’s peck. He doesn’t register either Shane or Ilya coming alongside him; Ilya’s constant Russian mumbling and his hips stuttering and twitching before he groans, deep from his chest, as he buries himself inside Shane and fills him up; and Shane who lies there and takes it all, slack and boneless against the sheets and completely quiet as his throat locks up and he comes untouched all over his stomach. All Luca knows is the warm sensation of want spreading through his veins, over his skin, slowly morphing itself into something akin to content.

It’s all a little hazy from there. His body melts into the bedsheets, into Shane’s side where he’s resting up against him, and he lets it.

When he comes to and his orgasm finally fades out, leaving him boneless and sweaty and warm, he can’t make himself lift his head from where it’s still resting on Shane’s chest. There’s only heavy panting in the room.

Luca’s head is still quiet.

It’s like there’s a current flowing just under his skin of contentment and comfort and warmth. He lets himself float in it, this feeling, just for a bit, Ilya and Shane probably don’t need him right now, he’ll get up in a second.

He swears he only planned on lying there for a minute or two, so when his brain finally comes back online and he sees Ilya’s gentle face in front of him, he frowns.

He’s still lying in bed. In fact, he’s still lying up against Shane, but his skin has been wiped clean. He’s not sticky anymore and neither is Shane, who is currently running a hand through Luca’s hair, nuzzling his nose into his curls. Both of their collars have been removed, too.

“Are you back with us, Luca?” Ilya asks, runs a thumb over his cheekbone. Luca blinks. “You were floating so good, mmh? Felt good?”

Luca still doesn’t understand what’s happening, but he nods because it did feel like floating and it did feel good. Though now, he kind of feels like it’s slowly turning into a free fall more than anything.

He shakes himself loose from Shane and sits up, which makes Ilya move back. Luca instantly feels cold. He can sense both their eyes on him and he keeps his gaze on the bed. God, he’s still naked. How long did he—?

“You need to use the bathroom, baby?” It’s Shane who says it. His voice is a little rough, but he mostly just sounds sleepy. Fuck, what time is it? He scans the floor for his clothes when he remembers that they got him naked in the living room.

“Uhm,” Luca says, but he doesn’t know what to say next. He doesn’t want to get out of bed when he doesn’t have clothes to immediately pull on, like his nakedness would be too misplaced and noticeable outside the context of sex and bedsheets. But he can’t just stay here either. Ilya and Shane are getting ready for bed; a routine he’s very much not a part of. He has to go home. He has to go home, and he can’t go home naked, so he’ll just have to go into the living room naked, suck it up and be an adult about it. How does he even get home? They drove him here. Can he ask for a guestroom? Or should he wait in their living room for an uber?

“Luca?” It’s Ilya this time, who is now sitting on the bed. Luca notices he’s wearing an old Boston T-shirt. “How are you feeling? Is your head still fuzzy?” And then there’s a hand on his shoulder.

He tries not to flinch from it, but he doesn’t succeed because Ilya immediately lets it drop and stills beside him. He can hear Shane suddenly sit up behind him, the sheets shuffling. Luca doesn’t take his eyes off the Boston logo on Ilya’s shirt.

“I’m just,” he starts, then pauses and shakes his head to clear the last of the fog. It doesn’t work. “I’m just gonna get out of your hair, sorry, uh, what time is it?” And then he moves before he can think twice.

Ilya moves back when Luca stands up. He curls his arms around his middle because the room is cold and he’s very naked and he doesn’t really want to be anymore. He’s very aware that the big light is on.

“It’s just past midnight,” Ilya says, “You are gonna what?” He sounds confused, not like he’s fishing for an answer. Not like before, during—

Luca moves around the bed, has to unravel one of his arms from his stomach to steady himself against a dresser when he almost stumbles over a crumpled-up duvet on the floor.

“Luca,” Ilya says, walking over and hovers, hands ready to catch him if he stumbles again. “Where are you going?”

“Uhm, home?” He doesn’t mean to phrase it like a question, like he’s unsure.

“What?” Ilya huffs at the same time Shane says “Why?”

And he really doesn’t know what to say to that so he doesn’t say anything at all. He’s not moving anymore, can’t make himself go to the door and open it and walk all the way to the living room. He’s just standing in the middle of a brightly lit bedroom naked and trembling.

“Mishka, you are freezing,” Ilya mumbles and goes to the closet. A second later a hand holding a shirt enters Luca’s line of vision. He grabs it without thinking twice and puts it on. It’s long enough to reach his thighs and he instantly feels better.

“Luca, why are you going home?” Shane asks and now that Luca feels like he can finally look at them again he can see Shane’s genuine confusion all over his face. He suddenly feels stupid. Of course they’re not going to throw him out, they’re not assholes.

“I can— I can stay, that’s— yeah, I don’t know why I, uhm,” he trails off again, rubs at his arms just to do something. “If there’s a guestroom or— or like, I can take the couch, that’s fine too.”

“Luca, can I touch you again?” Ilya asks, and Luca lifts his eyes to his and they’re so earnest it makes Luca shiver. He nods carefully.

He’s wrapped in strong, warm arms that squeeze him into a big soft chest. Luca lets out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

“You can have guestroom if that’s what you really want, but we would like for you to sleep in here with us,” Ilya says against his head as he rocks them side to side, just the tiniest bit. “It’s good for when you have intense scene like we just did. Good for the head.”

“But—” Luca starts but cuts himself off the second he starts.

“What? You can say.”

Luca squeezes his eyes shut and tries to tamper down the embarrassment that simmers in his chest.

“Are you, like, sure it’s fine?” he says instead, whispers it, really.

“Of course, it is.” There’s a hand in his hair again. It’s Shane’s. He’s standing behind him, naked and beautiful, and Luca wishes he could appriciate it if he wasn’t panicking against his captain’s chest.

“Shane likes to cuddle after fucking,” Ilya says against his curls again, and Shane huffs behind him.

“Says the fucking octopus.”

“Mmh no, lie.”

Shane just chuckles, clearly tired enough to let it go. Fingers run over Luca’s scalp. His eyes fall shut again, this times relaxed.

“Would you like to sleep in here with us?” Shane asks after a moment of silence.

Luca hesitates. He’s overwhelmed by how much he wants it.

“Yes,” he breathes the words into Ilya’s skin, like a secret, and he feels Ilya smile into his temple.

The arms give him a final squeeze before they pull back, not far, just enough to guide him towards the bed. Someone turns off the big light, lets the soft glow of a bedside lamp warm the room instead.

“Would you like to borrow a pair of underwear to sleep in?” Shane asks, voice soft in the almost-dark.

“Uhm,” Luca starts, feels his cheeks turn warm. “Yes, please.”

Shane nods and throws a pair of black boxers at Ilya who catches them. Luca flushes deeper when Ilya helps him step into them.

“Good boy,” Ilya murmurs earnestly and casually, like it’s easy to say because it’s true. Luca feels less cold instantly.

He gets placed between them. Shane is spooning him, his entire body glued to Luca’s backside from knees to head. He can feel his nose buried in his nape and there’s arms wrapped around his stomach.

Ilya is in front of him, smirks and raises an eyebrow as if to say “see? I told you he liked to cuddle”. He scoots closer and soon there’s another arm resting over Luca, reaching further to get to Shane. His head is drawn towards Ilya’s chest as Ilya cocoons them in.

Lips press to his forehead.

“You did so good, Luca,” Ilya says softly. “You were so brave for us. We cherish that very much.”

Luca’s heart thumps in his chest. He wonders if they can feel it.

“Thank you,” he whispers in the dark now that the bedside lamp has been turned off as well.

“We are very lucky that you trust us like this,” Ilya adds, the lips move against Luca’s skin. “We hope we can keep feeling lucky. If you want.”

Warmth seeps into his bones and something flutters in his chest. “Yes, please,” he whispers and the lips against him smile.

“We will talk tomorrow, mishka. About how you feel, what you liked. What you didn’t,” Shane’s hold on him tightens slightly at the words.

“I, uhm, I really liked it.” It feels like an omission. He loved it.

Ilya chuckles quietly. “That makes me happy. You saying what you like. Do that more, please.”

Shane’s hums in agreement against his neck, clearly halfway asleep already.

Luca smiles to himself.

“I’ll try.”