Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

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

Relationships:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Rose Landry/JJ Boiziau

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Yuna Hollander, Fabian Salah, Hayden Pike, Jackie Pike, Montreal Voyageurs | Montreal Metros Team Ensemble (Game Changers), Rose Landry, Zane Boodram, Wyatt Hayes, Brandon Wiebe, Jean-Jacques Boiziau | J. J. Dagenais, Ottawa Centaurs Team Ensemble (Game Changers), Ottawa Centaurs WAGs Ensemble (Game Changers), Harris Drover, Dallas Kent

Additional Tags:

Hockey Player Shane Hollander, Personal Assistant Ilya Rozanov, Alternate Universe, Masturbation, Gay Sex, Oral Sex, Light Dom/sub, Soft Dom Ilya Rozanov, Sub Shane Hollander, Top Ilya Rozanov, Bottom Shane Hollander, Mutual Pining, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Dirty Talk, Shane Hollander in Subspace, Aftercare, Texting, Sexual Free Use, Happily Ever After, Song: Mr. Brightside (The Killers), Song: Don't Stop the Music (Rihanna), Cock Warming, Gym Sex, Truth or Dare, Never Have I Ever, BAMF Shane Hollander, Light Bondage, Social Media, Ottawa Centaurs WAGs Group Chat (Game Changers), SWAGs, Spouses Wives and Girl/Guyfriends

Language:

English

Collections:

The Wanted Series

Stats:

Published: 2026-07-10 Completed: 2026-10-26 Words: 146,891 Chapters: 23/23

P.A. Wanted

Summary

Shane Hollander, captain of the Montreal Metros, three-time MLH Cup winner, is going out of his mind answering emails for hours every day to maintain Shane Hollander, the brand. He reaches his boiling point and hires a Personal Assistant. Enter Ilya Rozanov.

Chapter 1: The Recruits

Shane Hollander, captain of the Montreal Metros, three-time MLH Cup winner, number one draft pick, recipient of Rookie of the Year, the Art Ross, the Lady Byng and many other accolades, sits hunched in front of his laptop answering emails. He’s been responding and scheduling and doing everything but playing fucking hockey for several hours every day. The glare of the screen dries out his eyes, and his mind goes numb from boredom and indifference.

It’s 9pm on a Tuesday and he calls his mother. She answers on the second ring, not even bothering with a “hello.”

“I know, I saw the email from Reebok as well. Seems silly they can’t do the shoot in Montreal but at least Toronto isn’t a long flight away.”

“Mom.”

“And Rolex said they want —“

“Mom!” Shane interrupts.

“What?”

“I hate this. I just want to play hockey. I’ll do whatever shoots and brand shit I need to do but I can’t be part of the emails. I think it’s actually making me lose my mind.”

“Honey, you have to be in the know! You hate not being in control of your schedule,” she says with the patience of a mother who knows best.

“But I’m not in control of it! At the end of the day, I just need to know what to expect. I hate unexpected things,” he says with the impatience of a son throwing a fit because he never got to be a child in the first place.

“Okay, okay. Well, what do you want, then?”

“I don’t know. Don’t rich people have like personal assistants? Hire someone who can take care of everything, tell me in advance where and when to be, and let me focus on hockey and leading my team. If I have to read one more email I think I will actually explode, Mom.” His voice cracks on the last word. The pressure of being the best at hockey and being the brand “Shane Hollander” has knocked him off the narrow ledge he’s been balancing on for years.

“Oh, sweetie. I’m so sorry, I guess I didn’t realize how much of a mental load all this adds to your plate. Do you want to be part of the decision-making process of finding you a personal assistant or shall I find someone for you?” His mother asks with her soft motherly voice instead of the manager voice.

“I trust you. And the sooner the better.” He exhales, relief coursing through his system.

“Consider it done. Get some sleep. Goodnight sweetie.”

“‘Night, Mom.”

-

The following Monday sees a fresh face in Shane’s entryway standing next to his mother.

“I’m really excited for this opportunity, and it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hollander. Yuna introduced me as Elizabeth but you can call me Beth.”

“Shane, please. It’s nice to meet you, too,” Shane says, reaching out a hand to shake. She limp wrists the handshake and her cheeks turn pink at the touch.

Yuna leads the way to the kitchen island where she sets Beth up with her own laptop and they change the password on contact@shanehollanderhockey.com, granting her access.

“I’m going for my morning run. You’ll be okay to finish setting things up while I’m gone?” Shane asks, hopefully.

“Yes, sweetie, enjoy your run,” his mother says without even looking at him.

He gets back an hour later, sweaty and out of breath. He enters his apartment and finds Beth, alone, looking up at him with wide eyes and her lips part for a moment before she realizes she’s staring and quickly returns her gaze to the laptop.

“Welcome back!” She tries, cheerily. “Yuna left about twenty minutes ago, but I’m all set up.”

“Good. Okay. I’m just going to shower and then we can talk, I guess? I’ve never had a personal assistant before so I’d like to make sure we’re both on the same page with how this will work.”

She agrees and he rushes to his en-suite bathroom.

-

Shane takes a seat at the island, leaving a stool in between them, and turns to face Beth. Beth swivels to face him too, tucking a strand of straight blond hair behind her ear.

“Umm, okay, so basically. I hate emails. And coordinating stuff. I need you to handle all of that and just tell me where to be. And when. I hate surprises and I hate when plans change last minute. I guess I picture you telling me what the week will look like in general and then every evening give me a breakdown of what the next day will bring exactly.” Shane spews all of this in a tone that suggests he wants to be anywhere else.

“I can do all of that easily. That’s only one part of being a personal assistant, though. I can also take on errands you need done. Grocery shopping, dry cleaning, scheduling doctors or dentist appointments. What you originally described is more of an executive assistant role. A personal assistant can do all of that and coordinate your private life as well. Whatever you need to make sure you can focus on the job.”

“Oh. That’s actually. Yeah. Good to know. That would be helpful.”

“I hope I can be helpful to you,” she says in a soft voice.

At the end of the hour, they have a plan in place of how this collaboration will work and Shane feels tentatively hopeful.

Thursday night’s game was a brutal one against the Boston Raiders where they lost in overtime. He checks his phone in the locker room for Beth’s text telling him what to expect tomorrow. That is not what he finds.

Beth, P.A.: you’ll get them next time! I’ve booked you and the team a private booth at Club Luxe to drown your sorrows!

He sighs then puts on his Captain voice.

“Listen up! We played hard tonight and made them work for every fucking goal. I’ve got us a private table at Club Luxe. Let’s have some fun!”

The locker room cheers appreciatively and look at Shane with a new light.

“Hey buddy, since when do you go out or book tables at clubs?” Hayden, his best friend of six years, asks.

“Since I didn’t have to do anything. My personal assistant organized it.”

“Sweet! I wish I could go out but the twins are sick and Jackie needs to be relieved of duty.”

“No worries, man. I hope Jade and Ruby feel better, and don’t bring any germs to the team,” he says, clapping Hayden on the back.

-

Clubs really aren’t Shane’s scene, but he’s a hockey player and needs to keep the team morale in check. Mitty, Andropov, and Comeau are all tearing up the dance floor searching for willing partners. JJ flops into the booth next to Shane, sweaty from dancing, and plops a ginger ale in front of Shane and a beer for himself on the table.

“Capitaine! You seem happier this week! Tell me about this assistant of yours.”

“Not much to tell. She handles everything and I focus on hockey. It’s been great so far! Like having a load off my chest.”

“And is she cute? How old is she?”

“Probably mid-twenties like us. She works for me, I feel weird answering questions about her appearance.” Shane says, sidestepping the question.

“Ahh you are such a gentleman. I will have to see her for myself and be the judge!”

Shane snorts and rolls his eyes. After a respectable amount of time (two hours) Shane leaves the club and drives home. It’s past midnight and Beth is sitting on the couch with the laptop on her lap.

“Welcome home!” She says, brightly.

“Ummm, it’s very late. Not to be rude, but why are you here?” Shane asks, very confused. Beth was not here when he got changed for the club. Why is she here now?

“I realized I forgot to answer an email and I left the laptop here, and then I figured I’d be on standby in case you needed a designated driver from the club.”

“The email couldn’t wait? And, um, thanks, but you don’t need to worry about that stuff. Once you’re off the clock, you’re off the clock.” There, Shane feels Iike he successfully set a boundary and is quite proud of himself.

“Noted. But it’s no problem at all.” She stands up and walks towards him. “Do you need anything, while I’m here? Glass of water?” She asks, reaching out a tentative hand to touch his bicep.

He takes a quick step back.

“Beth, go home.”

She freezes and then relaxes. “Are you sure? I don’t mind helping with other private life situations,” she says, looking up at him through her lashes as she takes her cardigan off to reveal a low-cut tank top.

“I’m sure. Goodbye.” Shane says, turning his back and heading to the kitchen for a glass of water for something to do.

“Okay, Shane. The offer stands, anytime,” she says as she gathers her sweater and purse and finally leaves.

Shane locks the door and closes the deadbolt so she can’t get back inside. Then he texts his mom.

-

By Monday, a new face is presented to him.

“Salut. Geneviève. Enchanté,” the fifty-something year old Montreal native introduces herself.

They go through the motions again, this time in French.

She doesn’t last two days. It turns out she is terrible at technology and she constantly replies-all to emails. She also only wanted to deal with his work scheduling and not his personal life. He didn’t realize that’s what he needed until Beth made that one week much easier (until she didn’t).

“Mom, this is ridiculous. How hard is it to find someone who won’t flirt with me and can handle an iPad without asking a hundred questions?”

-

On Friday morning, his mother knocks on his door with a third recruit. Shane opens the door and barely looks at them before gesturing them inside. His gaze shifts to the newcomer and his brain stutters.

“Hello Shane. I am Ilya Rozanov, personal assistant.” He reaches out a hand. Shane is speechless as he grasps a nice firm, warm handshake.

“Hi. It’s nice to meet you. Come in,” Shane motions to the island where his mother has already set up shop. Shane tries very hard not to stare at the beautiful man standing in front of him. Ilya has golden curls gelled back away from his face, making his green-blue eyes stand out all the more. Angled cheeks, plump lips, and a body that would put many active hockey players to shame.

Shane swallows the saliva that’s been pooling in his mouth before he asks, “So, what’s your experience as a personal assistant?”

As Ilya sits on the stool to create a new password and get onboarded, he replies, “Sergei Vetrov. Retired Boston goalie. He does lot of charity work now and is on the board for a few companies.”

“Oh wow, so you even have experience with hockey?”

“Sort of. He was already retired when I start work for him. I played as a kid, too. Love hockey. I have always been Boston fan, though, so do not expect me to cheer for Montreal,” he winks and gives Shane a cheeky grin.

Shane laughs in response. “So long as you don’t sabotage Montreal by tricking me into missing games, I’ll survive.”

“Mmmm good thinking. But no, have reputation to maintain.”

“Glad to hear it.”

While Ilya follows Yuna’s instructions for setting everything up, he asks Shane, “What do you want most out of me as your P.A.?”

Shane explains, for the third time, what he expects. Ilya merely nods.

“Yes. I do this.”

Shane is suddenly relieved. The way he says it makes Shane feel like Ilya was choosing Shane rather than Shane hiring Ilya. But still, Shane is relieved that he’s deciding to stay. He will need to unpack that later.

Yuna takes her leave after the set up and Ilya gets to work on the laptop while Shane makes his breakfast smoothie.

“Who organized this inbox? A feral monkey?”

“Hey! It worked for me just fine!” Shane says indignantly.

Ilya snorts. “Your folders are called “I don’t know”, “maybe”, “yes”, and “no”. Only insane person does this. No wonder you go crazy and hire P.A. But do not worry. I fix.”

Shane would be offended. He should be offended. He is totally offended and not at all charmed by the obnoxious man sitting at his kitchen island.

Instead, he shakes his head in amusement and says, “You’re such an asshole. Did you talk to Sergei Vetrov like this?”

“Yes.” Is all the answer he gets. “Now, before I spend the entire day organizing this mess, I need to know more about Shane Hollander. Is important so I can do my job right.”

“Uh sure. What do you need to know?”

Ilya takes out a notepad and pencil and goes through his pre-made list of questions. Shane answers all of them.

1. Do you have any pets?
No.
Follow up, do you want to or plan to have pets?
Maybe a dog, one day.

2. Which friends do you hang out with on a regular basis?
Hayden Pike, Jackie Pike, their kids, JJ

3. Are you seeing anyone?
No.
Follow up, do you want to or plan to date someone?
Yeah, I guess.

4. Other than hockey, what are your hobbies?
Reading fiction (sci-fi and fantasy, mainly)
Watching movies (anything, everything)

5. What is your clothing style?
Athletic, I guess? I’d like to pay more attention to what I wear but I never have time for shopping.
Follow up, may I take your measurements?

This is how Shane finds himself standing next to the island with his arms stretched out from his sides parallel to the ground and Ilya with a measuring tape moving around him. The woodsy smell of his shampoo mixes with the light cologne for an intoxicating combination. Everywhere Ilya touches lights up Shane’s skin. He tries to tell himself it’s the temperature difference between his cold skin and Ilya’s warm hands, but his body betrays him as he feels sweat forming.

-

Ilya has never had to try so hard to be professional in his entire life. Taking Shane’s measurements, touching his rock-hard body, and taking in his clean, sweet scent has him almost losing his composure. He starts with the neck and forces his fingers not to caress the smooth skin. He is insanely jealous of the tape measure as it sits across the back of his neck. His fingers brush against Shane’s collar bone by accident and he makes the mistake of flitting his eyes to Shane’s face. They make eye contact while standing inches apart and Ilya feels a bolt of lightning pass through his body. He thinks he sees Shane’s eyes dilating before Ilya quickly looks away and measures his wingspan, focusing more intently than necessary on the numbers and jotting them down.

Ilya measures his chest, making sure he keeps his face passive while the tape touches Shane’s erect nipples. Ilya can tell they are hard because Shane’s workout shirt is tight, highlighting all of his lines.

He moves to Shane’s waist measurement but for this he kneels down. He makes sure his voice is even when he says, “You can drop your arms now.” He was successful even if his voice was a little lower than usual.

Right, waist. Then hips. Again, he’s jealous of the tape as it hugs Shane’s ass. My god, his thighs are strong.

He measures from waist to foot. Then the length and width of his foot. And then finally, the dreaded inseam. Dread only because it will take even more discipline not to get hard being this close to his groin.

“Last one, need to get inseam measurement. Is okay?” Good, his voice didn’t betray him. He looks up at Shane.

-

“Yep,” is all he manages. Hockey stats. Penalty kill plays. Cleaning the shower drain. He thinks of anything other than the attractive man on his knees in front of Shane’s partially hard dick. He doesn’t look down again. Spiders. Spider webs on the back of his neck. Golden curls. No stop. Warm, callused hands. Please let it be over. Wet towels left on the floor.

Somehow, he manages to keep his dick mostly in check and Ilya finally stands back up, jotting down the last numbers. He looks almost bored, just doing his job. Shane needs to put his Captain face on right now otherwise he may do something stupid.

Shane has been suppressing thoughts of men since he was sixteen when he realized he wasn’t looking at girls the same way he looked at guys. When he was nineteen, he watched a group orgy porn that someone on the team sent in the group chat. In the mess of bodies were two men touching each other. This was the first time Shane masturbated while looking at men. He closed the video and knew it answered a question bouncing around his head.

He is a professional hockey player, though, and there are no out gay hockey players. Shane also has Asian features inherited from his mother, a Japanese Canadian. He’s already different from other players. He doesn’t want to add another layer to separate him from everyone else.

So, no acting on urges. He decided to wait until retirement. But the Adonis in front of him is the first time that plan did not seem at all feasible.

Shane takes his seat and continues sipping his green smoothie, trying not to look at the roundness of Ilya’s ass in his fitted pants. They get back to the questions.

Who is your doctor?
Dentist?
Where do you get your hair cut?
Which meal delivery service do you use?
Do you have any allergies or food sensitivities?
Do you have a cleaner? How often do they come?

And so on.

“Okay, very last question and then I tell you about your day. Is there anything in your routine that you would like changed?”

Shane opened his mouth to say “no”, but nothing came out.

“Actually. Maybe?” He says with uncertainty taking over his tone. Ilya raises his eyebrows in a “go on” gesture.

“Before, the schedule was always something every day. It would be nice if all the non-hockey commitments could be done in one day so I can actually relax on my days off.”

“Yes. Good. If you think of anything else, tell me. Now, every night at 9pm I will text you your schedule for next day. Personal assistants are always nearby, and I will be more like a puppy dog. I will work here when you are home. I follow you to arena for practice. You take me everywhere. Until 9pm, then I go home after sending you text.”

“Um, okay. Everywhere? What if I’m having lunch with friends or something?”

“I give you privacy when you ask for it. You tell me when to meet you again and I will be there.”

“Okay. I’m not used to someone being here. Sorry in advance if I’m, like, weird.” Shane says.

“Is odd at first. You will get used to it. And like I said, when you need privacy, you say. I give.”

“And what about away games?”

“I come too. Yuna gave me credit card. I book my own hotel but travel on Metros plane and team bus. This is already done.”

“Already? When did you do that?”

Ilya smiles and says, “I am very good at my job. Now, your schedule for today is not so bad. Practice from 1 - 4. Game tomorrow. Off Sunday. Monday is travel day. No plans this evening. You tell me if you need me to book anything. As I get to know you, you will have to tell me less and less. I will just know. But until then, you must be open with me. Yes?”

“Yes. And ya, no plans tonight. Some of the guys might want to go out but I’m hoping to get out of it,” he says, sheepishly.

Ilya merely nods.

“Okay, I lied, one last question,” Ilya says with an apologetic smile. “Where do you want me to work when I am here? Is there office? Dining table? Island? I go where you tell me.”

“Oh, um, wherever is most comfortable for you, I guess? You can use that office there if you need quiet or privacy. Otherwise, anywhere on the main floor is okay.”

“Thank you,” Ilya says and then returns to the island to keep working.

Shane feels unmoored. Ilya’s competency is earning Shane’s trust, and he finds his guards lowering. He also doesn’t know what to do with himself now that he’s not the one stuck doing emails. He wanders into the living room and turns on ESPN, keeping the volume at a reasonable level to not disturb Ilya.

After tutting at the screen several times from an analyst’s bad takes, Shane turns off the TV and looks around his two-level apartment. The designer suggested the dining table and Shane hated it on sight. He said he’d get used to it because it matched the rest of the decor, but Shane never got used to it. First, it has an oval shape which is just wrong. Second, the marble top makes it look like a counter. Third, it has an all-white pedestal base in the centre. The chairs were all white with pedestal bases as well. It was “modern” all right. A little too modern. He never has time to go shopping and he now finds himself with almost three hours to kill before practice.

He grabs his keys, wallet, and jacket. Ilya closes the laptop, slides it into the carrying case, and smoothly gets ready to leave, too. “Where are we going?” Ilya asks as he puts his winter boots on.

“Oh. I mean, you can stay here. I just want to shop for a new dining table.”

“Good call. Your table is hideous. Please tell me you were blackmailed into buying that thing?”

“Hey! I wasn’t blackmailed. The designer said it would match. But, uh, ya. I do kind of hate it,” he ends with a soft chuckle.

“You should fire that designer.” Ilya slips his boots off and Shane assumes he’s going to stay. Instead, Ilya starts taking pictures of his main floor.

“Ummmm, what are you doing?”

Ilya doesn’t respond, gives him the “one moment” finger, and makes a phone call. Shane only hears Ilya’s side of the call.

“Fabian… I have client… Yes… Dining table… Twenty minutes. Spasibo.”

“We go to my designer. Fabian Salah. He will not give you ugly table. Pictures will help him choose. You drive, or I drive?”

“Oh. Wow. I was just going to go to the nearest furniture store. But, thanks? You can drive, since you know where we’re going.”

They walk to the car and Ilya raises his eyebrows.

“What’s that look for?”

“Captain of Montreal Metros drives a jeep. I am embarrassed for you,” he teases.

“It’s British! Practical! Good in the snow!”

“Okey.”

They drive in silence until Ilya’s phone rings and it connects to the Land Rover’s Bluetooth speaker system.

“Ilya Rozanov.”

“Hi Ilya, this is Sharon from Reebok. I see that you’ve cancelled the Toronto shoot.”

Shane snaps his head to look at Ilya.

“Yes. Did not work in schedule. You can do shoot in Montreal on the 15th, or you do not have Shane for your Christmas commercial.”

Shane’s mouth is agape.

“You see, there are other actors in play here and Toronto on the 13th is best for everyone else.”

“Okey.”

“Okay? So, he’ll be there?”

“No. You can do Toronto shoot without Shane. Would be silly not to have hockey player in your skating shoot, is really too bad you cannot accommodate.”

Ilya is so calm and indifferent meanwhile Shane is silently freaking out. He tries to get Ilya’s attention, but the other man is resolutely looking at the road.

“I see. Let me get back to you,” Sharon says, frustration oozing out of her voice, and she disconnects the call.

“It’s really not a big deal, I can do the Toronto shoot, I don’t want to lose them as a sponsor, Ilya.”

“You will not. They will call back later today, and shoot will be moved to Montreal.” Ilya glances over and meets Shane’s eyes before looking back at the road. “You are Shane fucking Hollander. You do not bend for them. They bend for you. Trust me.”

He said it with all the confidence in the world that Shane started to believe it.

They arrive at the designer’s studio and Ilya parallel parks so well Shane thinks it should be recorded and used as a training tool. Shane watches as Ilya does the arm behind the passenger headrest looking out the back window thing. He watches as his eyes scan the mirrors. He watches his large hand spin the steering wheel. He watches as Ilya completely ignores the backup camera. Why is it hot that this man can parallel park? Shane needs to get it together.

Ilya opens the studio door for Shane to walk in first. As Shane enters, he is confused to discover a small office. No show room. No merchandise. No dining chairs to test sit in. Calling it a studio is a misnomer. It’s literally just one desk, two chairs in front for clients, and a filing cabinet.

Behind the desk, though, is a man Shane can only describe as pretty. Fabian is around their age, is dressed for a fashion show, and wears eyeliner to highlight his stunning dark brown eyes.

“Fabian Salah. Shane Hollander,” Ilya says by way of introduction. They both take a seat as Fabian shakes Shane’s hand. Not as strong as Ilya’s, Shane can’t stop the thought from forming.

“Ilya already sent me pictures of your space and the hideous table you have now. You are right to replace it, and you’ve come to the right place,” Fabian says with an expressive voice. He flips his computer monitor around and Shane sees two table options that are exactly what he didn’t know he wanted. One is dark wood legs and frame with a lighter wood tabletop and matching wooden chairs. The other is a dark grey wood tabletop with a dark wood frame and matching cushioned chairs.

“I think I prefer the second one. The chairs look comfier too.”

“Excellent choice. You have two sizes to choose from. Eight-seater like this picture. Or twelve-seater. You might be limited on size, but the pictures seem to show enough space.”

“The twelve-seater will fit,” Ilya says, not looking up from his iPad that he was silently working on.

Shane looks to Ilya, then back to Fabian, then to the screen.

“Twelve, please.”

“Done. It will take 4-6 weeks to build and ship. I’ll coordinate with Ilya. My guys can also take that other table off your hands. We work with a charity that takes used items to help families in need. Unless of course you want to try and sell it?” Fabian talks with his hands and his movements are graceful. It was almost mesmerizing and Shane realizes he hasn’t answered yet.

“Oh no, yeah, that would be great. Give it to charity, if they want it.”

Fabian drafts the invoice, Shane pays a deposit, and they are out the door. The entire process took less than fifteen minutes.

“Holy shit,” Shane says once they are back in the car.

“What?”

“That was the most efficient and easy decision I’ve ever had to make.” Shane’s mind is reeling. Normally he would go to several stores, do a ton of research, and discuss with friends and family before settling on an option. Weeks of mental effort was just reduced to barely fifteen minutes.

“Good. You still have two hours until practice. Anything else you have been thinking about but haven’t gotten around to do yet?”

“Don’t suppose you can find me a date that easily, eh?” Shane jokes.

“Yes, I could. You are Shane Hollander. But finding someone you like and want to stick around, ah, that is the hard part.” Ilya started off smug and ended earnestly.

“Yeah.”

“What are you looking for in a partner?”

Shane notices the use of “partner” instead of wife or girlfriend and is happy that no uncomfortable knot forms in his chest.

“They have to like hockey, I think. Make me laugh. I can get in my own head sometimes, so having someone who’s good at keeping me grounded would be good. And I want them to let me take care of them, too. I guess I don’t want someone too independent. I want to be part of their lives, and I want them to be part of mine.”

Ilya notices the use of gender-neutral pronouns and says nothing about that.

“Is interesting. You do not want someone too independent, but you are on road a lot. That person might get lonely without their partner around.”

“That’s a good point. But if we’re both like that, then we miss each other together. I want someone I can text anytime without feeling like a burden, you know? And anyway, what about you? I feel like you know everything about me and I don’t know anything about you.”

“What do you want to know?”

“We’ll start with the hard question first. What do you want in a partner? Or I guess, are you already in a relationship?” Shane asks, totally casually.

“No relationship. I guess I want a best friend who I think is very hot. Great sex and great friendship, what could go wrong?” Ilya smirks. Shane feels his face heat up as he blushes, and thanks the universe that Ilya is driving and they are in the underground parking lot where it is dark.

“Okay, next question. Why did you decide to be a personal assistant?” Shane tries to ask this without it sounding like an interview question.

“Was not really choice at first. Sergei’s daughter is close friend from childhood. I wanted to leave Moscow, and she tells her father to hire me so I get work visa. He did not know what to do with me so he said I was his personal assistant. It started with emails, and then I helped with other things. Turns out I am good at helping people and I like making life easier for others. After Vetrov, I got job with Montreal hot shot CEO. He was asshole but I still work hard. Your mother found me and I was happy to leave to make famous hockey player happy.”

Shane listens intently and smiles at the end. “Well, it’s been like three hours, and you’ve already proven your worth,” he says as the elevator dings open. Now it’s Ilya’s turn to smile.

They enjoy a comfortable silence up to the apartment. Once inside, Shane gets changed into yoga gear and heads into his gym space. Ilya parks himself on the recliner in the living room.

Shane is in the middle of downward dog when he hears footsteps enter the office across from the gym.

Ilya almost fainted from blood rushing to his dick as he made his way into the office and saw Shane wearing tight shorts doing yoga, perfectly sculpted round ass in the air. He closes the office door and leans against it, breathing slowly, willing his dick to cooperate. This is a good gig. Pays extremely well. Back in the hockey world. He can’t fuck this up by trying to fuck his client. No matter how sweet and tortured this man is. No matter how insanely hot he is. You have a job to do.

He pulls out his phone and gets to work.

Shane is feeling loose and ready for his skate and workout. He packs his bag and heads toward the door, finding Ilya already there, waiting patiently while on his phone.

They make their way to the vehicle in silence. Shane drives this time and Ilya finally puts his phone away.

“Do you get car sick if you look at your phone?” Shane asks.

“Yes, how did you know?” Ilya responds, surprised.

“I do too. I’m okay on a plane and sometimes a bus but only once it’s going a steady speed on a straight highway. Otherwise, I can’t read or look at my phone.”

“Yes, is very annoying. I could be sending emails. Instead, I watch old grandfather driving speed limit,” Ilya chirps.

“I’m going ten over!”

Ilya snores.

“I’m going with the flow of traffic. Not my fault you drive like someone is chasing you.”

Ilya smiles at this.

“Ah, is more fun that way! Like I am in action movie.”

“Are you the good guy or the bad guy in this movie?”

“I am the character no one knows whose side he is on until the last minute. Turns out I was good the whole time.” Shane smiles.

“I’d be cast as the main character’s best friend.”

“You forget you are captain? Clearly you are main character.”

“Maybe I’m the mentor figure. I take the rookie hockey prodigy under my wing.”

“Who was that, for you? You were rookie of the year, yes?”

“Yeah. I didn’t have anyone. Not really. Montreal was not a great team when I started. They basically pinned all their hopes on a nineteen-year-old. I’ve always respected Scott Hunter but he plays for the Admirals, so I haven’t interacted with him much beyond All Stars and the Olympics.”

“Scott Hunter is ancient dinosaur.” Shane coughs out a laugh. Ilya continues, “That is a lot of pressure for a teenager, though. And all these brand deals on top of that. I understand why you needed P.A. Your brain needs a vacation.”

“Pretty much.”

They arrive at the arena, and Shane asks where Ilya plans to be.

“I can work from stands. Am I allowed in one of the boxes? They have tables there, yes?”

“Yup, you can use the family and friends section box. It’s always unlocked.” Shane points out where to go and heads to the locker room.

“Who was that?” Hayden asks, catching up with Shane down the hall.

“My new Personal Assistant,” he replies as they enter the locker room.

“Your P.A. is a dude?”

“Yeah.”

A lot of the guys look up at that, tuning into the conversation.

Drapeau asks, “I thought you said it was a girl named Beth?”

“Nah dude, she got fired. He hired some other chick, Geneviève,” JJ informs them.

“She was not compatible. Let her go as well. Hopefully the third times the charm.”

“What’s the point of having a personal assistant if they’re not hot? You don’t have to bang her but damn it’s nice to look, right?” Comeau drawls.

Clarkson throws hockey tape at Comeau. “Dude, you’re so gross. You’re like a walking HR violation waiting to happen.”

“Don’t be such a pussy!”

The guys dissolve into chirps and banter that Shane ignores. He tries very hard not to think about the fact that his P.A. is, in fact, hot.

Shane made everyone do bag skates before they started drills.

After ice time they hit the gym and Shane focuses on lifting today. Ilya walks into the gym and finds Shane bent over for a deadlift. For the second time that day, Ilya has a view of Shane’s perfect ass. He either has the worst luck in the world or the best. He doesn’t know which it is yet. He walks to the other side where it’s safer.

“Oh hey, what’s up?” Shane asks between reps.

“Reebok is shooting in Montreal on the 15th. And you have a last-minute invite to a fancy restaurant opening tonight. I was going to say no, but the restaurant is not far from you, and many other solo celebrity guests will be there.”

Ilya spoke quietly so only Shane could hear unless someone was trying really really hard. Shane understood the “solo” part is the real reason he brought the invite to his attention, based on their earlier conversation.

“Thanks for the 15th. Can’t believe it worked. Both my mom and I tried and they wouldn’t budge. You are a miracle worker! As for the invite. You’re right, normally I’d say no. But, I guess I can try?”

“I will make sure you have a suitable outfit. Is not until 8pm.” With that, Ilya leaves the gym already back on his phone.

Shane resumes his deadlifts, feeling happier and happier about Ilya’s work ethic. Shane did not see the confused looks shared between his other teammates.

Chapter 2: Flirting

Chapter Summary

Previously on "P.A. Wanted": Shane hires a personal assistant and in walks Ilya Rozanov.

“No, absolutely not.”

“Yes. Trust.”

“This is not something I would ever wear!”

“Ughh you are so boring Hollander.”

Shane stands in front of the changing room mirror wearing an outfit one might call bold if one wasn’t also thinking is that see-through? There’s no way Shane can step out in public in this.

“But pants are good, yes?”

Shane turns his attention to the dark jeans that are somehow comfortable and fitted to show off his thighs and ass. “Yeah, I like the jeans. Do they come in multiple colours?”

Ilya gets one of each and puts them on the purchase pile, which is a lot smaller than the “Not a chance” pile.

“You need a shirt, unless you want to go bare chested? Certainly make a statement. Maybe not the one you are hoping for, though.” Ilya is starting to get annoyed. Shane is incredibly hot, he looks delicious in everything Ilya has put him in, and he refuses to accept how good he looks! Granted, the shirts he brought out were more his style than Shane’s. Too far out of his comfort zone, then. Going to a last-minute restaurant opening is one thing. Wearing a shirt that says look at my nipples is another.

“Okay, I have idea.” Ilya whispers into Isabelle’s, the sales associate’s, ear and she rushes off.

“You have brown leather shoes and brown belt?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Brown shoes, brown belt, dark jeans, and white button-down shirt,” he says as Isabelle returns holding a soft white shirt. Shane takes off the ridiculous see-through shirt and shrugs the white shirt on. He buttons all five buttons, which means there is a very deep V showing off his chest. Ilya approaches and rolls up the sleeves. “Tuck in shirt.” Shane does as instructed.

“Ilya, I don’t know about this, can’t I just wear a normal white shirt?”

“Look in mirror and tell me you don’t look good.” Shane looks and blushes. Okay, he can admit that he does look good. Plus, the shirt material is really soft.

Isabelle pipes up, “It’s missing something. A chain.”

“Yes, Isa, yes. Like me, I wear gold chain every day. Would look hot in that shirt. You need something to show off besides your pecs,” Ilya says, walking on thin ice with his own mind. You are being too obvious, tone it the fuck down!

Shane pictures Ilya wearing a deep V and what his chest might look like. Just a bit of hair, he thinks. Maybe more leading from his belly button down to his —

Shane coughs and redirects his thoughts with effort. Luckily Isabelle comes back with a selection of gold necklaces. She and Ilya hold some up to Shane’s neck and discuss amongst themselves. Shane feels like a mannequin and is about to interrupt before he realizes he has no opinion on which gold necklace they choose. Any indignity he feels melts away.

“Yes, agreed. This one.” Ilya goes around Shane and clips the necklace on. Shane can feel Ilya’s warm breath whisper across his neck while his fingers skate over his skin. Shane clenches his toes in his shoes to keep circulation going. Ilya looks at the time. “We will also need brown shoes and belt.”

“Can’t I go home and get the ones I already have?”

“No, is 7:30 and takes 45 minutes to get there from here.”

“What! I’m going to be late!” Shane starts freaking out.

“Relax, Hollander. No one shows up right at 8pm. You will be fashionably late wearing fashionable clothing to an event they invited you to last minute,” Ilya explains, matter-of-factly.

“Oh. Yeah. Okay,” Shane’s spiral is cut short.

-

An hour later, Shane and Ilya arrive at the venue. Like Ilya predicted, plenty of people are just showing up now.

“Okey, I leave you here. When you are ready to leave, text the number I sent you just now. This car service. Tomorrow, you have nothing scheduled for the morning, nap from 1 to 3 then we go to arena for 7 o’clock game. I will be at your place for 3:30pm.”

Shane stares at Ilya, wishing wildly that he could come with him to the opening.

“That sounds great. Thank you for everything. I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Shane says before exiting the car. The car pulls away and Shane walks to the front. His picture is taken by a couple of event photographers in front of a media backdrop before he sees the host.

“Shane Hollander! So excited to have you join us. Please head inside, grab a drink at the bar, and enjoy your meal.” The host is a young man wearing all black who smiles easily.

Shane thanks him and heads inside hoping to find someone he knows. He’s done so many charity events where he doesn’t know anyone but if he stands still long enough people come to him. It works out well. He goes to the bar and asks for a ginger ale. The bartender, a good-looking man with dark skin and toned biceps, gives him a look of surprise.

“I mean I can, but…”

Shane feels himself about to cave and order a beer before Ilya’s voice worms its way in. You are Shane fucking Hollander. You do not bend. They bend for you. Shane says nothing, and stares at the, admittedly handsome, bartender.

“Shane Hollander can have whatever he wants,” he saves face and pours him a Canada Dry.

“Thank you,” Shane says as he walks away feeling giddy and only a tiny bit guilty. The guilt disappears after his first sip of cool ginger ale. Shane meanders until he finds a vacant high top to lean on. He looks around the room and tries to find a familiar face. A professional in a nice suit approaches him. “Shane Hollander? I’m Rick, I own the electrical company that did the wiring for this place.” Rick looks to be in his early forties, a fit build, a firm handshake, and kind blue eyes.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“Your game against Ottawa tomorrow should be a cakewalk, eh?” Before Shane can respond with his media trained response, Rick says, “I’m from Ottawa, grew up split between being a Montreal fan and an Ottawa fan. You gotta have some love for your home team, right? But Montreal has the legacy, and with you on the team we actually won the fucking cup! Three times!”

Shane couldn’t help but smile. Fans like to say “we” won the cup and it always amuses him. He didn’t remember seeing them work beyond human limit and keep going. He and his brothers on the team went to hell and back three times. But sure, “we”.

“I was the same growing up. Loved Ottawa as the home team. But my mother was the biggest Metros fan, so I inherited the genes from her.”

“What part of Ottawa did you grow up in?” Rick asks.

“Stittsville. You?”

“Manotick. I went to St. Marks,” Rick adds.

“Sacred Heart.”

A pretty woman with short brown hair approaches, holding a glass of wine. She stands next to Rick who smiles at her. “Shane, this is my wife, Anne-Marie. Honey, this is—”

“Shane Hollander,” she says with a Quebecois accent. “Everyone here knows who he is.” She says it like it’s common sense, but Shane disagrees. Yes, everyone here probably recognizes him as Shane-Hollander-Captain-of-the-Montreal-Metros but that doesn’t mean they know who he is. Shane hardly knows himself. This isn’t exactly event conversation, though, so he opts not to respond by taking a sip of ginger ale.

She slips into French and praises that he can speak to the French interviewers. He has an Eastern Ontario French accent which is different than a Montreal accent, especially for second language speakers. But he’s fluent when it comes to hockey terminology and he’s able to hold his own in a friendly conversation like this.

“I hope you’re not trying to steal my wife! Fifteen years in Montreal and I still can’t seem to get past Bonjour and Comment ça va,” Rick chuckles, placing his hand on her waist. Anne-Marie scoffs at her husband saying, “He’s a little young for me, chéri. If I wanted to leave you for a hockey player, I’d go for someone like Scott Hunter. Do you think he’s here?” She jokingly turns to survey the crowd.

“Why don’t we hit the dance floor, and I’ll make you forget all about Scott Hunter?” Rick offers. She nods and takes his hand, leading him away. Rick turns his head, calling out, “good luck tomorrow!”

Shane gives him a halfhearted salute but overall considers that social interaction a success. The next person to approach is a young woman Shane can only describe as “eclectic” and “artsy”. She introduces herself in French.

“Hi, I’m Alexandrine from Les Voix du Plateau,” she says, offering her glass in a cheers in lieu of a handshake.

“Hi, Shane Hollander, Montreal Metros. Um, sorry, what is Les Voix du Plateau?”

She laughs, and he can’t tell if it’s kind or not.

“Hockey players! No culture! Not to worry, I will educate you. Les Voix is an indie-pop music group. I’m one of four singers. I’m also the lead lyrical writer,” she says with confidence bordering on arrogance.

“Ah. That’s lovely. Where do you play?” Shane asks, not really curious but forcing the conversation along, which luckily only lasts another minute or so before Alexandrine sees a friend and rushes off.

The next person to stop by is a man in a suit. He goes for the handshake but doesn’t actually “shake”, he just holds his hand for a moment.

“Hi, you’re the guy from the Rolex ad, right! I’m Luc, I manage a couple of Starbucks in town, one of them is down the street.”

“Pleasure to meet you. Yeah, that’s me. In between photoshoots I also play hockey for the Metros,” Shane says, slightly annoyed at being recognized as a model instead of the thing he’s actually passionate about.

“Can I tell you a secret? I’ve never watched a hockey game from start to finish! Blasphemy, I know!” He laughs.

“Ha ha, wow, yeah, that’s hard to imagine in Montreal.” What else is Shane supposed to say to this? He’s really starting to regret coming. But Luc is looking him up and down so maybe Shane can practice flirting? He really doesn’t know where to start, though.

“Your workouts must be intense as a professional athlete, what’s that like?” Luc gives him the opening he needs.

“For sure, I run ten kilometers pretty much every morning, then on practice days it’s a combination of ice drills and weight training. On game days I do yoga before the warmups. Not many hockey players do yoga, but I find it helps a lot with flexibility.” There, that’s kind of flirty, right? Not the usual answer he gives to this question, anyway.

“Yoga, eh? Do you go to a studio for that? I go to the one in the Mile-End. The instructor, Sullivan, is a smoke show!”

“I had a private instructor for a while and now I have my own routine so I can do it at home or at the rink,” Shane responds. He doesn’t think this is flirty, but he doesn’t know what else to say.

“A private instructor?! I’d love a private session with you as the instructor. I’d let you bend me every which way,” Luc says with a wink and then slowly walks away to the washrooms. Shane looks around to see if anyone heard anything, but the restaurant is loud and everyone seems engrossed in their own conversations. Shane is not tempted to follow Luc, though. He is giving bottom energy and assumed Shane would be a top being a six-foot tall, 200-pound professional athlete. Shane may not have real world experience, but he doesn’t feel the urge to be the peg. He’d rather be the hole. He’s played around a bit in the past, alone of course, and even has a secret dildo stashed away.

He stays where he is for the next hour and a half and suffers through conversation after mindless conversation. Plenty of beautiful single women, professionals in their fields or minor celebrities, approach him. Some men approach him too; the straight ones talked about hockey and the queer ones tested the waters. Those were the only conversations he was at least partially interested in so he could practice flirting. It seems everyone here is a bottom, so none of the flirting went anywhere and he had nothing in common with any of them, sadly.

There were tables where people sat down for meals, but Shane opted to stay in the bar section. He was hungry, obviously, but he didn’t want to eat with people he wasn’t comfortable with. He’d rather feel hungry now and eat alone at home later.

Shane pulls out his phone and finds Ilya’s text with the car service number.

8:45pm
Ilya, P.A.: [contact card for car service]

9:00pm
Ilya, P.A.: Saturday - Sleep in, Run, Horrible Breakfast Smoothie
1pm - 3pm Nap
3:30pm Ilya - Best P.A. In the World - Rozanov arrives
4:00pm Depart for arena
Play hockey or something.
Go out with team or back home to sleep at reasonable old man hours.

9:05pm
Ilya, P.A.: I have feeling you will not eat at the fancy restaurant. I am ordering you Chicken Pad Thai to be delivered at 11:30pm.

Shane texts the car service. Angry face reacts to the old man hours jab. And hesitates before he hearts the food delivery.

11:05pm
Ilya, P.A.: Was I right?

11:05pm
Shane: You’re such an asshole.

11:06pm
Ilya, P.A.: 😃

Shane smiles at his phone and doesn’t have to wait long for the car service. He gets in and the same driver as before welcomes him.

“Ilya said you’d be ready to leave around this time, so I was hovering just in case. Looks like the kid was right!”

Shane sits back in the seat, buckles himself in, and stares at the window wondering how this man who’s known him less than 24 hours has already figured him out.

He gets home at the same time as the Pad Thai and enjoys a warm meal he didn’t have to think about. He showers and crawls into bed, thinking about the day.

His thoughts drift to Ilya measuring his body. What if Shane wasn’t wearing a shirt? And what if Ilya had to take off his tight clothes for extra mobility? Shane pictures his strong chest, serious face, and arms flexing as they move around him, touching him.

Shane’s hand drifts to the waistband of his boxers. Ilya on his knees, measuring his inseam.

And what if his hand accidentally brushed up against his cock? He would look up, embarrassed and apologetic, giving Shane an excuse to look him in the eyes.

Shane licks his lips and slips his hand under the waistband, stroking himself.

Ilya would get back to work measuring, but maybe Shane’s erection gets in the way, and Ilya has to take Shane’s pants off because it’s throwing off his measurements. His face would be next to Shane’s hard cock. He would offer to take care of that, to help him relax.

Shane reaches over for some lube, takes his hand out of his boxers and slips them off before lubing his hand and resuming his stroking.

Ilya would look at him while he peeled Shane’s boxers off. He’d take him in his mouth, one hand on his ass and the other touching his own hard cock.

Shane’s hand speeds up and he’s coming with the image of Ilya moaning on his dick.

-

Ilya is lying in bed thinking about his day. There’s something about Shane that makes Ilya protective and wants to unburden him. There’s another part of him, the one that came out while Ilya was in the shower, that wants to ravage him. Wants to see those pretty freckled cheeks turn pink. Wants to open him up and give him what he needs. Ilya has a good instinct on these things. He’s pretty certain Hollander is gay but in a sport like hockey Ilya can understand why he hasn’t come out. Doesn’t mean Shane shouldn’t experiment. Maybe experiment with his hot personal assistant. Ilya wants to feel Shane’s pretty mouth on his cock. It was this image that brought Ilya over the edge in the shower.

-

Saturday at 3:30pm, Ilya arrives at Shane’s apartment as planned. He lets himself in and doesn’t find Shane in the open concept kitchen, dining, and living room. He doesn’t hear anything in the apartment. Ilya checks his location on his phone (Yuna approved!) and it shows Shane should be at home. Or at least, his phone is. Ilya’s heart rate picks up. He quickly checks the office, gym, and spare bedroom on the main floor. All empty.

He makes his way upstairs for the first time. There’s another spare bedroom, a main bath, and the master bedroom. That door is the only one that’s closed. Ilya leans his ear against the door but doesn’t hear anything. He pulls out his phone.

3:36pm
Ilya, P.A.: Are you awake?

Ilya heard Shane’s phone vibrate in the other room, but no other sound. Ilya braces himself and slowly opens the door. Ilya learns several things very quickly. One, Shane is a side-sleeper. Two, he runs warm because the covers are kicked off of him. Three, he sleeps in just his boxers. Four, his sleepy face is soft and makes him look younger. And five, his hard on tents his boxers and fills Ilya’s head with terrible terrible thoughts. Ilya quietly closes the door and goes back downstairs. Shane must never know that Ilya saw him like that.

Ilya sits at the island and calls Shane. No answer, but he heard the bed move. He calls again. This time, Shane answers on the second ring.

“Okay the first rule of nap time is you do not interrupt nap time,” Shane says groggily. Ilya can’t stop the huge smile that takes over his face.

“I am sorry, Shane. But maybe you did not set alarm? It is past 3:30.”

“What? Oh fuck! Shit, I need to… okay let me just shower real quick and then we can go.” Shane hangs up before Ilya can say anything. Ilya has an idea what Shane needs to do in the shower and wishes he could help him with that.

Ten minutes later, Shane Hollander rushes down the stairs wearing his game day suit. His cheeks are flushed, but whether it’s from the hot shower, the hot shower, or the rushing because he was late, Ilya couldn’t be sure.

“Next time I set your alarm, hm?” Ilya says as they wait for the elevator.

“Shut up. I set the alarm, I just accidentally set it for 3am instead of 3pm,” Shane says, defensively. “But, thanks for calling to wake me up.”

“You are welcome.” They enter the elevator.

They lapse into silence, Ilya thinking about the fact that Shane probably had an orgasm less than fifteen minutes ago. Shane thinking about the fact that he had an orgasm fifteen minutes ago where he thought about the man standing next to him. Shane accidentally makes eye contact and Ilya doesn’t look away. Neither does Shane. The elevator dings and the doors open, breaking the spell. Shane steps out first. They find the town car and slip in.

“Will you go out with team after game? I can book something.”

“I don’t usually. When I do it’s a last-minute decision, so you don’t need to worry about booking anything. I just go where everyone else is going.”

Ilya leaves that for now. “And how was event last night? Did it inspire you to say yes to future last-minute invites?”

“Not really. The evening was fine, although I didn’t meet my soul mate best friend who’s co-dependent on me,” Shane jokes. Ilya shouldn’t feel happy to hear this, but he is.

“Is too bad,” he lies. “But is nice to talk to pretty people?”

“Talking isn’t exactly what I’m known for, unless it’s about hockey.”

“Okey. No more last-minute invites unless you know someone else there.”

“Cool. Oh and guess what happened? Wait, never mind, it’s dumb,” Shane blathers.

“Well now you must tell me!”

“No, it’s silly. Not worth mentioning. So, what are your plans after the game?” Shane attempts to divert the conversation, to no avail.

“Nice try. I am personal assistant so I decide what is worth mentioning which I can’t know unless you tell me.” Shane doesn’t understand the logic there but before he can counter, Ilya goes on.

“If you won’t tell me I will annoy you until you do. Am younger brother with lots of experience. Very good at annoying people, so I am told,” Ilya says this as if it’s something to be proud of. Again, Shane can’t help but be charmed.

“Okay, but if you think it’s lame, remember that I told you that first. It’s just a small thing that happened.”

Ilya looks at him expectantly.

“Um, the bartender asked what I wanted, and I said ginger ale. He said something like, “I could give you that but…” implying that that’s a lame choice and I should order alcohol.” Ilya’s brow frowns at this.

“And just. The me from two days ago would have caved and ordered a beer. But instead, something you said yesterday popped in my head. I’m Shane Hollander and I can make them bend. Anyway, I waited him out and he gave me the ginger ale. It made me happy. See, I told you it was silly. The entire story is just me ordering a drink and getting the drink I ordered. So like, nothing actually happened…” Shane finishes trying to diminish the real weight of that encounter.

Ilya’s frown became a smile and then a slow head shake. “You do not need to do this with me. Pretend like things don’t matter when they do. You do not need to be Cool Guy here. Be yourself, okay? And yourself had a great moment yesterday. I’m very happy you stood up for yourself. And even more happy that it is because of me,” he smirks.

“I’d say you’re an asshole, but it really was because of you, so thanks,” Shane says as he scratches the back of his neck. He startles briefly when Ilya smacks his knee and shakes it while saying, “You are welcome, Shane Hollander. Now, let me know if I can share any more of my wisdom with you,” he says with the fake voice of a wise sage.

“Shut up and get off!” Shane playfully smacks Ilya’s hand off his knee.

“You brat!” Ilya swats his arms. This devolves into a childish wresting match (where Shane discovers Ilya is ticklish and files that away for later) until they pull into the arena, both laughing like idiots. Ilya opens the arena door for Shane and follows him in. Both are still in a good mood when they go their separate ways, Shane to the locker room and Ilya to the friends and family box to keep working.

Shane’s good mood doesn’t last long. When he steps inside the locker room, he hears coughing and sneezing and stops cold at the door. He does a quick scan. Hayden is blowing his nose. JJ is hacking up a lung. Comeau is white as a sheet. Andropov is leaning his head into his locker. There’s a few more people coughing lightly or trying to hide it.

“No no no. Who brought the plague into my locker room?”

All eyes shift to Hayden, who looks around innocently. “I’m not the only one with kids! Anyone could have picked up a cold.” Andropov runs to the bathroom and they hear vomiting. Shane winces and takes a sip of his water.

“Is it a cold or is it the flu? You know the unofficial rules. If it’s a cold, you take some NyQuil and get on with it. If it’s the fucking flu, you stay the fuck away from me. I mean the team. But mainly me.” Shane says both sternly and jokingly.

Shane refuses to step inside and instead goes to find the team doctor and forces him into the locker room. He takes a throat swab from everyone (including Shane) and runs the test. Coach is annoyed at Shane until the doc comes back and confirms eight players have the flu. Others have been exposed and may catch it over the next couple days. The eight players are sent home. Shane follows Coach Theriault into his office as they make a new game plan with new line ups. They call up a few AHL players based in Montreal to fill the ranks.

The healthy players meet in the tape review room, and Coach explains the new plan.

5:12pm
Shane: It’s not been announced yet but a bunch of players have the flu. Can you stock up on flu meds for me just in case?

Ilya, P.A.: Shitty. Yes. What is preferred tea and soup? Just in case.

5:14pm
Shane: chamomile tea. Lipton’s chicken noodle soup.

Ilya, P.A.: Interesting.

Shane: what is?

5:15pm
Ilya, P.A.: You have gross green breakfast smoothie. I would have guessed gross green soup.

Shane: Healthy green soup is for cold winter days. Sick means comfort food. And chocolate frozen yogurt.

Ilya, P.A.: This revelation has broken my brain. I am dead now. You killed me.

Shane smiles stupidly at his phone.

5:16pm
Shane: Damn, guess I need to find a new P.A. 😔

Ilya, P.A.: Is ok, Ghost Ilya will still help you. No need to hire anyone else. 👻

“Dude, who are you texting? You’re straight up blushing,” Clarkson whispers, looking away from the white board and nudging Shane. “Who is she?”

Shane ignores Clarkson, aims his phone away, and silently gives him the finger. Clarkson elbows him in a friendly way but drops it.

5:18pm
Shane: I guess not everyone is lucky enough to be haunted by a friendly ghost. I’ll start calling you Casper.

Ilya, P.A.: Please don’t make me google.

Shane: You didn’t get Casper over in Russia? “Casper the Friendly Ghost” was a children’s cartoon. They made a live-action movie as well.

Ilya, P.A.: North America is weird.

Shane: Asshole.

Ilya, P.A.: 😔🪦

Shane: 🙄

5:19pm
Ilya, P.A.: 🥺

Shane: Look! Puppies!

Ilya, P.A.: 🥹

5:21pm
Ilya, P.A.: chamomile tea, Lipton chicken noodle soup, chocolate frozen yogurt, teddy bear, flu medicine, did I miss anything?

Shane: teddy bear?

Ilya, P.A.: wow such a child okay I will get you a teddy bear

Shane: you wrote it! I was questioning it!

Ilya, P.A.: Shhhh the flu is already taking over your brain. I will get you your teddy bear, do not stress.

Shane: 🫠

Shane puts his phone away just as Coach calls on him to talk about the AHL players. Shane’s encyclopedic brain comes in handy sometimes. He goes to the white board, writes each players’ name in a column, then in a second column he lists their position, next to that which line up they will be on, and the final column are their strengths/weaknesses.

Thirty minutes later, the AHL boys arrive and are ushered into the tape review room while the active players head out. Shane has already wiped the “strengths/weaknesses” column clean but left the rest up. Shane welcomes them, explains their roles and expectations, and dismisses them to go suit up.

Shane is happy to smell disinfectant in the locker room. His mind is more at ease as he puts on his gear in the same order every time. The new players are excited, holding their jersey’s up and taking pictures. Finally, it’s game time.

-

Ilya is technically off the clock once the game starts, but no one has kicked him out of the friends/family box, so he decides to stay and watch the game. He’s seen Shane play before, of course. This isn’t his first MLH game, far from it. But this is the first game where he knows that Shane Hollander likes chocolate frozen yogurt, something he’s never heard him talk about in interviews before. Shane hits the ice and all the tension he carries in his shoulders drops away.

The warmups have always been enjoyable to watch as someone who is interested in men. The stretching, the bouncing, the leaning. Very easy to imagine himself bending a hockey player into whatever position he wants. Shane is especially flexible, Ilya notes. He’s almost doing the splits on the ice for god’s sake. How is Ilya supposed to survive? His dick has plenty of ideas, none of them professional. Ilya can’t look away.

He doesn’t look away when the game starts and Shane wins the first face off or when he’s checked into the boards by Chouinard. He doesn’t look away when Shane steals the puck back and gets on a breakaway and scores. He doesn’t look away when Shane is sitting on the bench, watching the game intently, waiting for his turn again. Ilya barely notices the replacement players at all. Shane plays his game and everyone else catches up, or more often, fails to catch up. He enjoys the view of Shane hopping the boards and pumping his legs to chase the puck. He enjoys watching Shane check an opponent and pass the puck. He very much enjoys watching Shane drink out of his water bottle. If only he had binoculars to really see his throat muscles working as he swallows.

Montreal wins 3-2, which would be an embarrassingly close game if half their team wasn’t out with the flu at the last minute. As it is, Shane’s hat trick was the only noteworthy event. Ilya stays in the box a bit longer, as do the other friends and family, who he has ignored and who have ignored him. He gets a drink and checks his phone while the TV in the corner shows the live feed of the player interviews. Ilya looks up when he hears Shane’s voice.

“Hollander, congratulations on your hat trick. What made your game play spectacular tonight?” Asks a reporter.

“Thank you. Hockey has always been a team sport, obviously I can’t score unless someone passes me the puck, and all of our new line mates understood the assignment. I am proud of our team for adapting to a last-minute change so quickly.”

“You seemed more comfortable out there tonight, especially given all the changes. What was your headspace going into the game?” Asks a different reporter.

“I’ve recently hired a personal assistant, and he’s made my life so much easier already. I think I was able to handle the change because I didn’t need to think about the 25 other items on my plate. I could truly focus on the game, and I think that showed today.”

Ilya’s jaw dropped.

“Who is your personal assistant?” The report follows up.

“I never asked his permission to share his name, so I won’t answer. Plus, I don’t want anyone else stealing him away,” Shane smiles at the reporter, thanks them for their questions, and leaves.

Ilya stopped breathing. I don’t want anyone else stealing him away. Obviously he just means professionally. But it’s only his second day on the job and Shane admitted that he played well because of Ilya. Ilya is so fucked.

-

9:48pm
Ilya, 👻 P.A.: does this mean I get a raise?

Shane checks his phone as soon as he’s back in the locker room and sees this text from Ilya.

Shane: too soon, just hired you yesterday. At least give it a week. Maybe today was a fluke!

Ilya, 👻 P.A.: even after I tell cleaning staff to disinfect locker room for you? No one appreciates me 😔

9:49pm
Shane: That was you!?!?! Okay, maybe you do need a raise.

Ilya, 👻 P.A.: 😃

Shane: I said maybe 😜

Ilya, 👻 P.A.: so what did you decide? Go out with team or go home?

Shane: Home! If the flu is going around, I’m not going to have fun in a crowded room.

9:50pm
Ilya, 👻 P.A.: Smart. Your just-in-case flu supplies will be delivered tomorrow.

Shane: Perfect. Well, I hope you enjoy the rest of your night!

Shane puts his phone away and strips out of his gear before hitting the showers. Usually there is talk of celebrating at a club, but most people seem averse with the risk of flu. Shane almost feels bad for the AHLers who would have loved to go out as an MLH player. Almost isn’t enough to change his plans, though. He thanks his players and takes his leave.

-

The next morning, Shane revels in his day off, sleeping in and letting himself lounge in bed for an extra few minutes.

8:30am
Ilya, 👻 P.A.: Do not go out for cold run this morning. Black ice. Run on treadmill.

Shane: Good morning, Ilya. I am doing well, thank you for asking. How are you?

Ilya, 👻 P.A.: 🙄

Ilya, 👻 P.A.: twisted my ankle running on black ice

Shane: Oh, shit. I’m sorry! Do you need help?

Ilya, 👻 P.A.: No, is fine. Nothing serious, will take it easy today. But we can’t have Captain of Metros slipping on ice. Learn from my mistakes.

Shane: Thanks for taking one for the team.

Ilya, 👻 P.A.: You are welcome. Now, today is your day off. Enjoy doing nothing. Text me if you need anything.

Shane: 👍

Shane spends the entire day doing nothing and it is glorious. No emails, no shoots, no rushing. He calls his parents for a chat. He calls the Pike household to see if they need anything delivered (Shane is not going anywhere near them himself). He runs on the treadmill, enjoys his smoothie, watches game tape for fun, and lets his mind go blank.

Partway through the day the promised emergency flu supplies arrive, including an adorable teddy bear holding a hockey stick in a Boston Raiders jersey.

Shane: cannot believe you

Ilya, 👻 P.A: yes, I am unbelievable is true 😎😌

If he masturbates several times that day thinking of golden curls and green-blue eyes, well, that’s between him and these four walls.

-

9:00pm
Ilya, 👻 P.A.: My ankle is doing better, thank you for asking.
8am - I get to your place
8:15am - depart for arena
8:45am - arrival
9:00am - team bus to airport
10:30am - flight to San Jose
Check in to hotel

Tuesday: optional morning skate. Game at 7pm Pacific.

Shane: Good to hear. I’ll be ready for 8am. I double checked my alarm.

9:01pm
Ilya, 👻 P.A.: Good. Next time I won’t do nice wake up phone call. Will jump on bed and scare you awake.

Shane blushes profusely at this. That would be terribly dangerous. He’s not sure he could keep his hands to himself if that were to happen.

9:02pm
Shane: Okay no more raise for you

Ilya, 👻 P.A.: for doing my job! Is not my fault you can’t set alarm.

Shane: Oh my god it was one time.

Ilya, 👻 P.A.: One time in two days. That is 50% of the time, Hollander.

Shane: Shut up.

9:03pm
Ilya, 👻 P.A.: 🤐🤑?

Shane: We’ll see.

Ilya, 👻 P.A.: See you tomorrow.

Shane: Night!

Shane wants to recall the goodnight message immediately after sending it. Is it normal to wish your P.A. goodnight? Shane crawls into bed and wonders if his hot P.A. is flirting with him and if it’s going to be a problem. Maybe Shane can just practice his flirting with him? It could be safe, there’s no way they can actually be together since he works with Shane. And then when a nice man comes along Shane will have some experience flirting. If only he could get experience doing other stuff, too…

Chapter 3: Closer

Chapter Summary

Previously on "P.A. Wanted": Ilya is very competent as a P.A. and they flirt. A lot.

In today's episode: Highlights of the first month on the job as the boys learn more about each other.

Chapter Notes

Monday morning sees Shane and Ilya boarding the team bus on schedule. Shane takes a seat near the front and Ilya hesitates.

“Where do you want me to sit? Do not want to be in the way.”

This is the first time Shane has seen Ilya less than 100% confident and the sight is beautiful. He revels in it for a moment, watching Ilya’s hand tap the back of the seat and his head swiveling trying to figure out the best place to sit.

“You can sit next to me. Or anywhere in the first four to five rows, I’d say. Most of the players chill further back. But it’s not a long ride to the airport, so just sit wherever.”

Ilya sits next to Shane, stowing his carry-on under his seat. Their arms brush against each other and Shane wishes they weren’t wearing thick jackets so he could feel Ilya’s body heat.

“So, have you reorganized my inbox yet?” Shane teases.

“Barely halfway there. I do not know how you ever found anything,” Ilya judges him.

“Me neither. It’s weird. My house is very organized; you know my spices are even lined up alphabetically? But when it comes to my computer and anything digital, my organization falls away.”

“I am opposite. Is why we work well together, I think. My apartment is not organized, there are bowls and plates in each other’s cupboards, the fridge is a free for all. But I’ve always kept my phone and computers rigidly organized.”

“So together we make one really organized person,” Shane replies.

“And one absolute mess.”

Shane’s laughter is cut short when Drapeau gets on the bus and says, “Who’s your friend Hollzy? Another AHLer?”

“Montreal wishes,” Ilya says, cockily. “I am Ilya, Shane’s personal assistant.”

Shane had opened his mouth to make introductions but was glad Ilya spoke for himself. It was rude of Drapeau to talk to Shane like Ilya wasn’t even a person.

“Why are you a guy?” Drapeau asks, like an idiot.

“Well, when two people love each other very much —” Ilya starts, sarcastically. Drapeau rolls his eyes, “You know what I mean.”

Shane interrupts before Ilya could speak, using his Captain voice.

“Drapeau, check your misogyny at the door and sit the fuck down.”

Drapeau raises his hands in a “calm down, you’re overreacting, I’m just kidding” kind of way, even though he was not kidding at all. He just doesn’t like being called out on it.

“I’m just saying that you could have hired someone hot,” Drapeau mumbles as he walks down the aisle towards a seat at the back.

“I am hot,” Ilya says, full confidence. Shane purses his lips to contain his smile and looks out the window.

-

It’s not until Tuesday morning that Shane starts to feel off. He wakes up with a sore throat and chugs a glass of water before heading down for the hotel breakfast. He doesn’t find chamomile tea in the offering, so he settles with lemon ginger. He adds a dash of honey as well. By the end of breakfast, his sore throat did not go away, and he starts getting a headache.

Shane opens the text thread from the night before.

9:00pm
Ilya, 👻 P.A.: 9am - 10am - Optional morning skate (bus departs at 8:45)
Lunch and afternoon nap
5pm - bus departs for arena
7 - 9:30pm - score goals, win game

Shane: 👍

7:32am
Shane: Can you get me cold meds? Sore throat. Nothing drowsy.

Five minutes later Ilya shows up to breakfast and finds Shane nursing another tea. Ilya brings him a glass of water and sets down the DayQuil.

“That was fast,” Shane says, not even questioning how Ilya knew to find him here in the first place.

“I packed extra with me, just in case,” Ilya says but it sounds muffled. Shane looks up. Ilya is wearing an N95 mask. Shane snorts then winces at the pain in his throat.

“I approve.” Shane swallows the pills with the water.

“You may be upset with me.”

“What, why?” Shane asks, confused.

“I told team doctor.”

“Ilya, no, why!? I have to play!” Shane says indignantly. Ilya raises his eyebrows.

“If it’s a cold. Play. If it’s flu, don’t play. That was always rule growing up,” Ilya says, unknowingly echoing Shane from Saturday afternoon. This doesn’t make Shane feel better in the moment, though, and he palms his face and groans. He doesn’t get to sulk for long. The team doctor does another round of throat swabs with all the players as they come down for breakfast. Thirty minutes later, it’s confirmed, three more players have the flu, including Shane.

-

Ilya brings him up to speed in Shane’s hotel room. He has the second key card for Shane’s room, so he walks right in, drops his backpack on the floor and hops on the other bed, getting comfortable.

“You are scratched for these away games. Doctor says quarantine in here until your flight tomorrow. You are not going to Vegas with the others; you and I are going back to Montreal.”

“Thanks. You shouldn’t stay here, though. I’m going to get you sick,” Shane pouts.

Ilya is delighted to see Sick Shane and wants nothing more than to cuddle up next to him and make him feel better. Instead, he tosses Shane an extra N95 mask.

“I will be fine; Russians do not get sick. You sleep; I work. I wake you up in four hours for meds,” Ilya says in a tone that conveys his decision is final. Shane sighs and turns on the TV, logs in to his Netflix, and puts on a nature documentary on low volume. He’s asleep in minutes, facing away from Ilya on top of the covers.

He tries to focus on the inbox but his eyes drift to Shane’s lower back. His t-shirt is riding up leaving a sliver of skin showing. His fingers itch to touch. Through tremendous willpower, Ilya gets some work done for the next two hours.

It’s at that two-hour mark that Shane rolls over in his sleep. Ilya glances over, annoyed at himself for making Shane wear the mask. He could be enjoying a view of Shane’s plump lips. For the first time, Shane makes a noise in his sleep. A noise that sounds suspiciously like a moan. Ilya wills his eyes not to travel down between Shane’s legs, but they ignore him and are rewarded with another viewing of Shane’s erection. Ilya’s mouth pools with saliva and he swallows. Shane would not want him to see this. Maybe he can turn the volume up and flush the toilet? Normal sounds just loud enough to wake him up so he can hide under the covers?

Of course, the depraved part of him wants to run his hand over the length of it and hear more of those pretty moans. Movement catches his eye and he snaps his attention to Shane’s hand as it drifts lower. Ilya jumps up, clicks the volume button up a few notches, and speeds to the washroom. He flushes the toilet and runs water in the sink.

Please wake up. Please wake up. Please wake up.

Ilya exits the bathroom and closes the door with more force than necessary and relief floods his system when he sees Shane going under the covers. The relief was short-lived when Ilya realizes Shane took off his shirt which is folded neatly at the foot of the bed. Ilya goes back to his spot, Shane is facing away from him again, already back to sleep, and Ilya has an unobstructed view of Shane’s naked back.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Ilya contemplates leaving but he doesn’t want Shane to wake up alone after Ilya said he’d be there. Ilya decides the bed is the problem. He takes the laptop and moves to the desk, putting his back to Shane’s back. Now all he has to do is not look in the mirror directly in front of him. Seriously, who puts a mirror behind a desk? This room was designed to torture him, specifically. Shane moans again and Ilya is about ready to tear his hair out. Ilya focuses on the fact that Shane has the flu to help temper his desires.

An eternity passes and Ilya’s alarm finally goes off, silently vibrating in his pocket. He ends it and gets the next dose of DayQuil ready. Ilya’s caring instincts take over, and he sits on the edge of Shane’s bed, facing Shane. He reaches out a hand and gently rocks his shoulder to wake him up, saying, “Shane, is time for medicine.”

-

Shane is lying on his back, taking Ilya’s cock in his mouth while stroking himself, his orgasm building and building. Ilya reaches out and shakes his shoulder.

Shane wakes up and his flu raddled brain has a lot of catching up to do, but first and foremost Ilya is on the bed with him, holding his shoulder.

“Ilya?” Shane chokes out, the dream fading slowly but his erection doesn’t. Thank goodness he’s under the covers. Ilya removes his arm and Shane makes an involuntary whine that he tries to pass off as childish annoyance at being woken up rather than from wanting continued contact. Ilya says something about medicine and holds out the two pills and the glass of water. Shane sits up a bit, removes the N95 mask, grabs the pills and maybe drags his fingers down Ilya’s palm for longer than strictly necessary. He swallows the pills and watches Ilya whose eyes are on Shane’s throat first before slowly gazing at his chest. He looks away and stands up.

“Almost lunch time. I go find chicken noodle soup?”

Shane sits up all the way and lets the comforter bunch at his waist, helping to hide his erection and also maybe show off his chest and gauge Ilya’s reaction. Ilya has an almost wild look in his eyes. Shane decides to stretch his luck by actually stretching his arms out, pushing his chest out more. He puts the N95 mask back on and yawns for good measure.

“Yes, please,” Shane says, before laying back down and focusing on the next nature documentary series. Ilya steps out of the room slightly less coordinated than usual as he struggled to put his shoes back on.

Once the door was closed and Shane couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore, he made his way to the shower. He strips down, gets under the warm spray, closes his eyes and goes back to the dream, placing one hand on the cold tile wall and stroking himself with the other. Shane is on his back, Ilya is above him, pounding into his ass this time. He would squeeze Ilya’s chest and biceps and revel in how strong he is. He would stare into those beautiful, hungry eyes. Ilya would lean down and kiss him. Shane comes with a groan over his fist and he continues to pump to get it all out. He sighs in relief, washes away the evidence, and crawls back into bed after drying off.

-

Ilya heads straight to his own room and barely gets into the bathroom before his hand is in his pants offering his cock some relief. He quickly lowers his pants down enough to free himself, moves the shower curtain out of the way, and thinks about Shane’s moans. He comes in record time, Shane’s name slipping out of his mouth.

-

Ilya switches Shane to NyQuil for the travel day to help him sleep on the plane. Drowsy Shane is adorable. He follows Ilya, getting through security by doing whatever Ilya says (“shoes off, Shane; electronics in the bin; wait your turn”) and not even looking at their tickets to find out their gate number. Inside Ilya are two wolves, one of them wants to take care of Shane and protect him from the world. The other wolf pictures Shane obeying orders and allowing Ilya to take him apart and put him back together.

The other two players are suffering as well and following Shane. Ilya feels like a mother duck and her ducklings. What would these grown men have done if Shane hadn’t hired a P.A.? They sit down at the gate with 45 minutes until boarding. Ilya works on his laptop and Shane leans back in the seat next to him to snooze. The other players also nap, leaning in to use each other as headrests. Fifteen minutes into the wait, Shane leans his head onto Ilya’s shoulder, eyes still closed.

Ilya decides to be a little menace as a way to let off some steam from his sexual frustration. He takes a selfie of himself with Shane clearly sleeping on him. He doesn’t know when he’ll use this to antagonize Shane but he’s certain it will come in handy.

“Okay hockey players, time to board, wake up sleepy heads!” Ilya claps to help his cause. Shane abruptly wakes and what little Ilya can see above the mask turns pink as Shane realizes he was sleeping on Ilya. The other players grumble and stand. Ilya leads his sick ducklings to the gate attendant and down the ramp.

All four are in first class. Ilya lets Shane take the window seat and puts both of their carry ons in the overhead bins. The other two have to fend for themselves. Ilya sits and buckles himself in.

“Sorry about earlier,” Shane mumbles.

“What?”

“Using you as a pillow. S’not professional,” Shane says through the NyQuil fog.

“I don’t mind. Is okay. I will Purel my shoulder when I get home,” Ilya teases.

Shane’s eyes are already closed but Ilya thinks he’s smiling based on how his cheeks bunch up under the mask.

Ilya doesn’t get to be Shane’s pillow on the flight, much to his disappointment.

-

Ilya gets Shane home, sets him up on his couch, makes tea and chicken noodle soup and adds crackers. He gives Shane more medication then sits on the edge of the recliner. Shane thanks him and spoons soup into his mouth.

“Team doctor says you cannot be at arena for at least one week. He will swab you and if you are clear you can return. If not, day by day.”

Shane nods and sips his tea.

“I will leave your meds on bedside table and text you when it’s time to take them. I will come tomorrow at 8am.”

“You shouldn’t work from here while I’m sick,” Shane says, sniffling and wiping broth off his chin.

“I don’t mind. Plus, your mother tells me not to let you do something stupid like leave the house while you are sick,” he says, smiling.

“So, you’re my jailer?”

“Exactly. You will be a good boy for me, right?” Ilya regrets the words as soon as they are out of his mouth. They sound way too sexual and Shane is staring at him with his mouth open and spoon frozen halfway between bowl and mouth.

Ilya tries to recover and deflect by saying, “I will tell on you to Yuna if you are not perfect patient.”

Shane chuckles and the spell is broken, Shane can move again. “Yes yes, I’ll do whatever I’m told, just don’t snitch to my mom, that’s a low blow!”

-

Shane falls asleep after Ilya leaves and can’t get the thought of being a good boy out of his head. He drags himself to bed, takes the medication left there, and has crazy NyQuil fever dreams. He wakes up in the middle of the night from coming in his boxers, moaning Ilya’s name.

-

Ilya’s first month working with Shane is never dull. Shane’s schedule is very full but Ilya’s able to condense and combine workdays to give Shane an actual day off at least once a week.

They have a rhythm and a routine that works for both of them and Ilya doesn’t take long to learn Shane’s likes, dislikes, and don’t cares. Today, Shane has a photoshoot (dislike) for Calvin Klein (don’t care) for underwear (dislike). Ilya makes sure to surround these events with naps (like), ordering healthy lunch or dinner meals (like), booking charity events at animal shelters (like). It’s about balance.

Unfortunately for Ilya, he’s in the studio while Shane is posing in nothing but his fucking boxers. Ilya thinks back over the past month’s interactions with Shane.

Shane was the perfect patient and spent most of the time watching movies in the living room.

“What is this cartoon… that looks like Catherine Palace in St. Petersburg?” Ilya walked over to the living room.

“Anastasia,” Shane responded sounding congested.

“Disney make film about Romanov family?” Ilya sat down in the recliner.

“Not Disney, but yeah they basically copied Disney’s whole thing.” After a few minutes, Shane asked, “How do people in Russia today feel about the Romanov family and what happened?”

Ilya shrugged. “Nothing, really. Happened long time ago, different era. Feel bad for the children maybe, but… current Russian leadership is more unsettling.”

“Fair enough. Are you from St. Petersburg?”

“Moscow. I visited before. Took train with Mama when I was ten, I think? Nice architecture. So why Anastasia?”

It was Shane’s turn to shrug. “I don’t know. Thought maybe you might like it. Russians aren’t the villains in this. Or, well, I guess they are, but they are also the good guys.” Shane blushed.

“Hmm… I guess I could take break to watch cartoon with you,” Ilya had responded as if he was giving Shane a concession.

That was the first time Ilya could recall Shane doing something because he thought about Ilya.

The second time was when he was feeling better. The Montreal shoot on November 15th finally came around and Reebok rented a local arena for the shoot. Shane was wearing all Reebok athletic clothing and skating around with a figure skater and an Olympic speed skater. They each take a turn pretending to teach a teenage actor how to skate, each with their own different styles. To make it Christmas-y, everyone was wearing Santa hats. After two hours of shooting, the camera crew put everything away and Shane surprised Ilya with a pair of skates.

“They have the arena booked for the whole day. Thought you might like to skate? You mentioned you used to play hockey.”

Ilya smiled wide at this and hurried to put on the skates. Ilya hadn’t skated since the previous winter and was excited for a chance to skate with Shane. He may have shown off a bit, demonstrating his speed, crossovers, and general fluidity and control.

“You’re faster than I imagined! Most people can’t catch up to me on the ice, but you actually have a shot.”

“Oh Hollander, you have no idea. Is race time, best two out of three. We start at one end and race to the other, first to cross the goal line wins.”

“You’re on! Okay you have to touch the board and can’t let go before Go!”

“Yes, on three?”

They took their positions, one hand on the board, and Shane said, “1, 2, 3 - GO!”

They pushed off, pumping their legs fast and strong. Shane was in the lead until they reach center ice. Ilya pulled ahead by the blue line; Shane almost caught up but Ilya made it to the red line a fraction of a second ahead of Shane. They both kicked up a lot of ice shavings coming to a hard stop before they hit the boards. Ilya’s hands were in the air in triumph.

“And the crowd goes wild! Is okay Hollander, I teach you. You put one skate in front of the other really fast,” he said sarcastically. Shane rolled his eyes, “You barely won, asshole! Plus, it’s best two out of three.” Shane positioned himself again, touching the board. Ilya, still smiling, did the same. This time it was Ilya who said, “1, 2, 3, GO!”

It was a much closer race, Shane keeping up until the last second where Ilya pushed ahead. Shane growled in frustration while Ilya laughed and had an entirely too smug smile etched on his face.

“Okay, technically you won, but we still have to play the third. I’m not letting you get a clean sweep on me!”

Ilya patted his shoulder condescendingly before taking his position. The race started much the same as the other two until they reached the other end zone. Shane was able to just barely pull ahead. By then, Ilya was breathing hard and looked annoyed. Shane was very pleased with himself.

“You may be faster in the sprint, but it looks like I’ve got you on endurance,” he said, pushing Ilya’s shoulder.

“I still won. You need to tell all Metros that your P.A. is faster than you.”

“I just might. It might actually motivate them to skate harder. Sometimes I feel like they don’t try as hard because they know I’ll pick up the slack,” Shane had said, perhaps too honestly.

“Would you be happier if you were not Captain and could just be player?”

“I honestly don’t know. Part of me thinks yes, it’s a lot of extra work and I just want to play hockey. But the ambitious part of me says no, I like the title of Captain, and it gives me standing with the team. There are a lot of loud personalities in the locker room. Without the C I don’t think anyone would listen to me.”

They grabbed some sticks and pucks and passed them around while skating in circles. This devolved into trying to steal the puck from each other, which involved a lot of friendly shoulder checking and illegal holds. They chirped and giggled the entire time. Ilya felt like he was gaining a friend.

Then there was the Friday night of texting where they learned even more about each other.

7:00pm
Ilya: Optional Skate at 10am. Afternoon shopping for the evening charity gala at 8pm which means leaving your place at 8pm and getting there fashionably late.

Shane 🏒: I’ll be at the optional skate. It’s not 9pm yet, though. Hot date tonight?

Ilya: Maybe. Met him at the gym. If it doesn’t work out, I will have to switch gyms.

Shane 🏒: Lots of pressure then.

Ilya noted that Shane didn’t mention or question that the date is with a man.

7:02pm
Shane 🏒: Hope it goes well.

11:00pm
Ilya: Men are stupid

Shane 🏒: Uh oh. Do you need to switch gyms?

Ilya: Urgh. Yes. He could not hold his liquor. Which is fine, just don’t drink so much!

Shane 🏒: What did he do? Do I need to send my enforcers to punch someone?

Ilya: What, you won’t protect me yourself? 😔

11:01pm
Shane 🏒: It’s called delegation.

Ilya: Is okay. He just had nothing interesting to say and the vodka made him loud and obnoxious. And he eats with his mouth open. Disgusting. He finished the date by puking in a bush. We took separate Ubers.

Shane 🏒: That is a really bad date. But it sounds like he should be the one to switch gyms, not you. He should be embarrassed.

Ilya: He should be.

11:02pm
Ilya: What about you? Worst date experience?

Shane 🏒: Basically, all of them? I’m never comfortable even if nothing crazy happens. It’s just awkward.

Ilya: You are not awkward with me.

Shane 🏒: There’s something about the expectations of a date that makes me anxious and doesn’t let me enjoy it. But the worst one by far was a double date that I didn’t know was a double date.

Ilya: Tell me.

11:04pm
Shane 🏒: Hayden and his wife are my best friends and they kept trying to set me up with Jackie’s friends. One day, I go to their place for dinner and her male colleague is there. I think they were testing me to see if I’m not straight since I never connected with anyone.

Ilya: That seems like wrong way to go about it. Why not just ask you?

11:05pm
Shane 🏒: I’m a very private person. But ya, being ambushed like that wasn’t fun. Clearly the other guy was told what was happening, but I wasn’t. He kept flirting and like… even if I wanted to flirt back… I wouldn’t want to flirt with a guy for the first time in front of my friends, you know?

Ilya felt his heart rate pick up as he read and re-read the last text.

11:06pm
Shane 🏒: The only good thing is they haven’t tried to set me up with anyone else.

Ilya: And have they been… supportive?

Shane 🏒: Yeah, they mainly don’t mention it

11:07pm
Shane 🏒: Do you mind if we delete this? I’m okay with you knowing but I don’t want a hack to leak this convo.

Ilya: Of course. I will show you my phone tomorrow so you can see that it’s gone 😊

Shane 🏒 : Thanks. And I’m sorry again about your date.

11:08pm
Ilya: He was definitely not best friend material. Oh well. Maybe you find me beautiful man or woman at charity gala tomorrow.

Shane 🏒 : I’ll see what I can do. Goodnight, Ilya.

Ilya: Goodnight, Shane.

He’s pretty sure Shane has been flirting back with him this entire time but they both have this unspoken understanding that they can’t do anything because they work together. Ilya comes back to the present when the Director asks Shane to walk away from the camera, showing off his perfect ass.

-

Shane spends every second of this photoshoot pointedly not looking at Ilya lest he get an erection. His one-sided attraction has evolved into a full-on embarrassing crush. Ilya is so thoughtful and competent and funny and hot and confident… Sometimes Shane thinks he’s flirting but Ilya is charming with everyone he meets. Shane isn’t special, and worse, he works for Shane! Okay technically speaking he works for Yuna and is assigned to Shane, but Yuna works for the Shane Hollander brand, which is him. So, he both is and isn’t his boss.

Sigh…focus!

Shane gets through the photo shoot and is very thankful when someone hands him a robe after the last shot.

In the car back to Shane’s, Ilya makes a call and orders lunch from Shane’s favourite salad bar. The butterflies in his stomach start fluttering even though he tells himself that Ilya is just good at his job. He’s paid to remember these things.

-

Ilya hopes he makes Shane’s day better after the long shoot. When he hangs up the phone, he feels Shane’s gaze on him. He steels himself before catching his eye. They smile at each other, and Ilya feels a warmth spread through his body.

-

“Any more hot dates lined up?” Shane asks him after they’re done eating lunch.

“No, but Svetlana is coming to town this weekend to visit.”

“That’s the friend who got you a job with her dad?”

“Exactly, yes. She is my best friend, but I have not seen her in a while. Will be nice to hang out. I would like you to meet her, I think she knows more about hockey than you do,” Ilya teases.

“Impressive if true! And best friend, eh? Are you hoping it will become something more?” Shane tries to hide any jealousy that he’s definitely not feeling.

“No, no. Just a friend. Sometimes we fuck but is nothing more than that for either of us,” Ilya says nonchalantly as he gathers up the takeout trash.

Shane blushes at that. He’s never had a friend with benefits. And knowing that Ilya will probably have sex with his best friend this weekend has turned the butterflies in his stomach to wasps. Which is ridiculous, he has no claim over Ilya.

“You should bring her to the game on Saturday. We can go somewhere for drinks after?” Shane finally responds when he gets his shit together.

“We would love that! Thank you,” Ilya says.

We. Ilya and Svetlana are a we. Shane feels a sudden sadness like a lead weight drop in his stomach wondering if he will ever be a we and that even if he does, it couldn’t be with Ilya. Maybe he needs to end Ilya’s employment contract. This can’t be healthy. At the same time, the thought of not seeing Ilya every day makes his heart hurt. Better something than nothing, right? Shane is pathetic.

-

Ilya notices Shane’s mood shift after that conversation. He becomes melancholy and goes through the motions for the rest of the week. He’s not sure how to cheer him up but he knows that’s all he wants to do. Ilya is not happy unless Shane is happy. When did that start?

Friday brings Svetlana Vetrova to Montreal. Ilya took the afternoon off after giving Shane the scheduling run-down and promising to meet him after the game on Saturday.

“Sveta, I am so fucked,” he says after the reunion hug in his apartment. It feels nice to speak Russian again.

“I told you Shane Hollander is too pretty, and you should not take that job.”

“Yes, yes, you already know you are right, don’t make me say it,” Ilya whines, feeling sorry for himself.

“I need vodka. Tell me everything.”

Ilya pours them both a glass and they sit on the couch.

“He is perfect. Smart. Funny. Competitive. A little brat. Caring. He has this way of being that makes me want to protect him at all costs. But also, he is so fucking hot I just want to touch him constantly.”

“Falling for your straight boss is not good, Ilya.”

“He hasn’t said anything outright, but he implied he is not straight. But do not say anything Sveta, he obviously can’t come out as anything in the MLH,” Ilya adds, his voice going hard.

“Obviously. The secret, whatever it may be, is safe with me. So, you are saying there is a chance? That does make this more complicated, doesn’t it?” Svetlana says, tapping her manicured fingers on her bottom lip.

“I think he is flirting with me, too. But we work together. We can’t do anything. If I quit, my work permit is compromised unless I find a new client right away. And being a P.A. takes so much time, I wouldn’t have any left to be with Shane anyway,” he says morosely.

“So, working for him is better than nothing?”

“Yes.”

She takes a sip of the delicious vodka.

“I look forward to meeting him tomorrow. This will be very interesting indeed.”

-

Shane is on the ice for warmups and looks over to the friends and family section trying not to be too obvious. He spots Ilya and a stunning woman with curly hair sitting next to him. Their arms appear to be linked. Shane looks away and tries to focus on his stretches.

By the time the puck drops, Shane has decided to be a showoff. Ilya might be having sex with his best friend, but maybe he’ll think of Shane while he does it. Shane has given up trying to be professional tonight and he feels a little crazy for it.

-

“Holy shit,” Svetlana says, watching Shane move lightning quick. “He’s just as fast as you!”

“No, I am faster. I won best two out of three,” Ilya says, letting his competitive side out.

“My goodness, look at those hands,” Svetlana mutters as Shane deftly handles the puck and sinks it in the back of the net for the first goal of the game.

By the end of the third period, Svetlana says, “I get it, Ilya. If I had a shot with him, I’d try, too. He’s good looking and incredibly talented. I’ve never seen him play in person; it is somehow even more impressive than on TV.”

“You do not get to have a chance with him. I would literally die if he was bi and chose my best friend,” Ilya says dramatically.

She pats his cheek condescendingly. “I love you too much to do that to you. Your boy is safe from me.”

-

9:40pm
Ilya, 👻 P.A.: Meet at player entrance when you are done. Driver will take us to bar for drinks at Ye Olde Orchard.

Shane does his usual press and shower routine before donning his game day suit and meeting Ilya at the door.

“Shane! Good game. This is my oldest and bestest friend, Svetlana Vetrova. Sveta, Shane Hollander,” Ilya says.

Shane shakes her hand and is pleased at the firm handshake.

“Nice to meet you. I heard you know more about hockey than I do?”

Svetlana laughs and it sounds like music. “It is a pleasure to meet you, too. And yes, I look forward to picking your brain about hockey this evening,” she smiles, perhaps seductively? Shane isn’t sure.

They make their way to the bar making idle chit chat. Ilya reserved a table – which normally the restaurant doesn’t do on game nights but made an exception for Shane Hollander. The table was in a semi-private corner and Shane places himself so his back is to the room, hoping not to be recognized. In Montreal. After a game. At a sports bar. But somehow, magically, no one bothers them for their entire evening until they left and were standing outside.

Before that, though, Svetlana puts Shane through the wringer, asking question after question about offensive plays, line match ups, and cup prospects. Shane is completely at ease speaking to a new person for the second time in his life. The first time was with Ilya.

-

Ilya has a brief moment of unease seeing Shane being so comfortable with Svetlana. He remembers Shane’s list of partner attributes and “enjoys hockey” was high on his list. That negative feeling falls away as the night goes on, seeing Shane make absolutely no move on her. Not even flirting. At most she gets joking banter. But with Ilya…

“Tell me, Shane. If hockey did not exist, what would you be doing?”

“Good question… Hockey’s been my life since I was a kid. It’s hard to imagine. I guess probably something in the fitness field. Personal trainer for other athletes, maybe?”

“Ahh no,” Ilya disagrees, “you would be a model, obviously.”

“What, no way. I only do photoshoots because I’m a professional hockey player. They wouldn’t want me without that,” Shane says.

“Shane, look at these biceps and tell me Reebok would not want you in their ads,” Ilya teases, squeezing Shane’s bicep and shaking him. Shane playfully shoves him off and somehow they both and up sitting closer than they were before.

“You’re insane. Lots of people have biceps. I’m not special,” he chuckles, sincerely believing it. Ilya will not stand for this. Svetlana enjoys the show.

“You’re the crazy one. You were named hottest MLH player two years in a row! You would be supermodel and go to all the fancy parties and hate every second of it.”

Shane laughs. “Well, you’re right about that last part. I hate modelling, though. Even if I could, I don’t think I would do it full time.”

“But enough about me, what do you do, Svetlana?” Shane asks politely. Ilya leans back in the booth and shifts his legs under the table. His foot “accidentally” touches Shane’s. Neither of them move to correct it.

-

The rest of the night passes pleasantly and Shane is mobbed by fans once they are waiting outside for the car. After many selfies and signatures, Shane extracts himself and slides into the back seat. This car is smaller than the other one they used. Shane finds his entire left side touching all of Ilya’s right side and tries not to shiver or lean in.

-

The driver drops Shane off first, leaving Ilya and Svetlana in the car. Ilya slides over to Shane’s vacated seat and they don’t speak for the entire ride. Once safely back inside Ilya’s apartment, Ilya faceplants on the couch and Svetlana laughs her musical laugh, sitting next to him on the couch and rubbing his back.

“Yes, Ilya. You are fucked. And he’s clearly gay. He did not look at my breasts once. I even leaned forward to show my cleavage and ZERO reaction.”

Ilya groans in despair.

“He likes you, too, you know. You are not making it up; he was flirting with you. Did you see all the side glances he sent your way? And the smile he reserves just for you?”

“I touched his foot and he didn’t pull back.”

“Wow, are we back in high school? Are you going to ask him to the school dance?” She teases.

“Shut up. You know it’s a big deal when it’s two men, one of whom is a professional athlete in a notoriously homophobic sport.”

“I know. But. Everyone on his team knows you are his personal assistant, yes? It’s the perfect cover. You can be in love and fuck and no one will ever bat an eye that you are together.”

“I am scared. I know I would have to make the first move. I don’t know if he has any experience. But if we are wrong or if I scare him away, I lose my job and I lose him forever.”

-

Back in Shane’s apartment, Shane collapses on his couch, facing the ceiling.

“Fuck.”

Shane wishes he had someone to talk about this stuff with. The only person he wants to talk to is the one person he can’t. He tries someone else instead.

1:20am
Shane: I need dating advice. Can you come to my place tomorrow? Just you?

Jackie: YES. I can come by for 9am? I’ll bring coffee. The twins are driving me crazy. I need an excuse to get away!

Shane: You’re the best :)

The next morning finds Shane and Jackie sipping delicious coffee, Jackie nibbling on fresh cookies, looking at Shane expectantly. Shane’s palms are sweating so he puts the coffee down. Then he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, so he picks it back up again.

“Okay. So. Um. You know I’m a private person and I hate talking about this stuff. I’m just going to lay it out there and you can’t ask questions until the end. Okay?”

“Deal,” she says, looking him in the eye. Shane takes a deep centering breath.

“I think I’m in love with my personal assistant,” he says, then immediately turns beat red. “I don’t know, maybe love is too much. Crush definitely. I can’t stop thinking about him. I don’t know what to do.”

When nothing else is forthcoming, Jackie decides it’s safe to speak.

“Is your personal assistant interested in men?”

“Yes.”

“Is there any chance he feels the same way?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes I think yes. Other times, I’m afraid he’s just a flirt. But like, last night…it’s going to sound so stupid… last night I went out with him and his childhood friend. We had a great night; she can talk about hockey as long as I can. She’s great! But Ilya and I kept flirting, I think. At the end… this is the stupid bit… he put his foot next to mine, like touching, and neither of us moved away,” he finishes, turning pink.

“I can’t say for sure until I meet him myself, but it sure sounds like he wants you, too. Why else would he want to introduce you to his childhood friend?”

“Because I’m Shane Hollander?”

“If that’s all it was, it could have been a quick meet and greet. He wanted to spend the evening with you. Is he coming here today?”

“Yeah, at 11. There’s a photoshoot this afternoon.”

“Perfect! I don’t have to be home until 2. I’ll stay and meet him and get a feel for the situation.”

“Thank you, I need an outside perspective. I’m going crazy. And please don’t tell Hayden! You can say the dating advice thing, but not the personal assistant thing, okay?”

“Of course.”

-

Ilya arrives at 11am after dropping Svetlana off at the airport. He lets himself in as usual and is surprised to see a pretty woman sitting at the kitchen island drinking a glass of water.

“Oh, hello there,” he says, smoothly.

“Hi! You must be Ilya. Shane is just upstairs getting changed. He should be down in a minute,” the strange woman says, brightly. He watches as she finishes her glass and puts it in the dishwasher, clearly comfortable here. Maybe Svetlana was wrong…

“I’m Jackie Pike, by the way. It’s nice to meet you,” she says, extending her hand.

“Ah, wife to Hayden Pike, Montreal’s 15th best player?” He teases, shaking her hand, suddenly feeling ten pounds lighter.

“I’ll be sure to tell him you said that!” She laughs.

Shane comes down the stairs wearing a black and grey henley sweater and the dark jeans that Ilya helped him pick out. He smiles when he sees Ilya, who can’t help but smile back.

“Are you ready to pose in wet t-shirt for sparkling water brand?”

“Sexy!” Jackie says, fanning herself.

“Yes,” Ilya agrees without thinking.

“Alright you two. Let’s just get this over with. Jackie, stay as long as you want, you have a key to lock up?”

“Yep! I think I’m going to take a nap in the guest bedroom. The twins kept me up most of the night,” she sighs.

“That’s rough. Enjoy the nap!”

-

11:12am
Jackie: oh he’s so into you, he looked like he was going to murder me with his eyes until I told him I’m a Pike! go get it!!

Shane clears the notification and deletes the message so Ilya can’t see it, but he smiles warmly on the ride to the shoot.

-

Ilya is subjected to another sexy photo shoot. They put Shane in a white t-shirt, spray him with water, and take little video clips and photos. His nipples are extremely visible and hard from the cold water. Ilya wants to rip the shirt off and lick his nipples, give them a real reason to be hard. He also wants to dry Shane off because he can tell how uncomfortable he is. When the shoot starts winding down, Ilya gets up and heads to the craft service table and makes a tea. He brings it to Shane’s dressing room and makes sure there are plenty of towels and a blow dryer. Shane walks in taking the wet shirt off so he doesn’t see Ilya right away.

“Oh! Shit, sorry!” Shane says, stopping in his tracks.

“Why are you sorry? I’m the one in your dressing room where you did not expect. I am sorry. I brought you hot tea and there are towels.” Is what he means to say. Instead, Ilya is transfixed on Shane’s chest and tracks a water droplet as it makes its way down his pec to his abs.

“Tea! Here. Towels. There. Um, I wait outside, yes?” Ilya is distinctly pink as he exits.

Shane is still frozen. Ilya’s reaction is illuminating, especially after Jackie’s text. Shane feels a bubble of hope.

Ten minutes later, Shane is back in dry clothes, his hair is dry, and he’s enjoying his tea. He steps outside to find Ilya already waiting in the driver’s seat.

“Thanks for the tea, it was exactly what I needed. I don’t know why they can’t use warm water for those shoots,” Shane rambles to Ilya as he buckles his seat belt.

“You’re welcome. I am sorry for startling you in dressing room,” Ilya says, sounding worried.

“No worries! If I waited two seconds to take off the wet shirt I would have seen you. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Shane tries to reassure him. Ilya pulls out of the parking lot heading back to Shane’s apartment.

“I would try to convince the next photoshoot to use warm water, but I think they use cold water on purpose.”

“Is the purpose to make their models as uncomfortable as possible?” Shane jokes.

“No, they want sex appeal. Cold water makes nipples hard and that white shirt was see-through. Now whole world will see Shane - Sexiest MLH Player - Hollander’s nipples,” Ilya says, toeing the line.

“Well, I didn’t feel sexy. That dumb shirt was clinging to me. I wanted to crawl out of my skin,” Shane says, not knowing how to flirt back properly.

“Then maybe your true calling is actor. You hid it well. But not well enough to hide it from me. That’s why I got you the tea and extra towels.”

“You always know what I need. Thank you.”

“You make it easy.”

“You calling me easy?” Shane jokes in a hopefully flirtatious manner. Ilya smiles before he responds.

“How does saying go? If the Reebok shoe fits…”

Shane laughs out, “Close enough!”

Shane feels electricity buzzing between them, like every sense is heightened and time is moving slowly. It’s an exciting feeling and he doesn’t want it to go away.

“I’ve been thinking about my wardrobe lately. I mentioned on your first day that I’m open to new clothes. Could we find time to go through my closet, make a donation pile, and then go shopping for nicer stuff? I’m kind of tired of always looking like I’m going to the gym.”

“Of course. We can do this week. You have nothing on Thursday. I will have fun judging your clothes and throwing everything in the donation pile,” he teases.

“I have SOME good stuff!” Shane defends himself.

“Mmmmm no. Even your suits are not tailored properly. Did you go to local high school and ask student to fix for you?”

“Wooooooow.”

“Am I wrong?” Ilya asks obnoxiously.

“Yes, asshole! The store I bought the suits at did the tailoring!”

“Ahhhh see there is your mistake. You never get tailoring done in house. The good tailors have their own business. Storefront tailors are second rate. Everyone knows this.”

“Oh my god you are insufferable.”

“And yet, you must suffer,” Ilya says, smug in the knowledge that Shane is definitely flirting with him.

Chapter End Notes

I don't know how a hockey league would handle a case of the flu, so just go with it :)

<3

Chapter 4: Day 1

Chapter Summary

Previously on P.A. Wanted: Yearning while the boys get closer. They meet up with friends who help give them some objectivity.

Now, do they finally do something about it?

Chapter Notes

“Come on, what’s wrong with this one?” Shane asks as Ilya tosses another burgundy henley in the donate pile.

“You have like ten of these shirts. Four are red. You keep one. The rest go.”

Shane grumbles but obeys.

They make their way through the shoes and pants first. Now they are on shirts and it is an uphill battle for Ilya.

“Why did you ask to purge closet if you want to keep everything. Stop clinging. We say thank you to the shirt and let the shirt have another life with someone else.”

Shane won’t admit this, but that was actually good advice. He says thank you in his mind to the clothing as he puts them in the donate pile, wishing them well on their next adventure. The process got easier after that. The suits and ties section had barely any debates.

Until they got to the athletic clothing.

“There are seven days in a week, and you do laundry once a week. At most you need eight athletic outfits, not eight hundred.”

“But how do I choose?”

“Age. We get rid of the oldest ones first.”

It took a lot longer to get through this section, but they compromised and Shane kept sixteen workout outfits (for cold weather and hot weather, Shane argued).

This process took all of Thursday morning. They stopped for lunch before heading to an upscale boutique for their appointment.

The private room has a couple chairs, a pedestal, in front of a tall three-piece mirror, and a change room with a curtain. Shane feels like a doll again standing on the pedestal as Ilya and Tania, the sales associate, dress him up in various outfits for different occasions. After the first hour, Shane stopped going into the change room at all. He changed right in the private room in front of Ilya and Tania. If Tania isn’t comfortable, she can excuse herself. Shane is used to changing in front of people every day at hockey. And if he can show off his body in front of Ilya, why not?

-

Shane is a menace. This is not the first time Ilya’s had this thought. He swears he’s doing it on purpose now. They keep catching each other’s eye in the mirror as he’s changing. Ilya’s heart rate has been elevated for too long; this cannot be healthy.

Tania left the room to grab another outfit and Shane tugs off the shirt, tossing it to the yes pile. Then he tries to wiggle out of the tight-fitting dress pants when he loses his balance on the pedestal. His legs are all twisted in the pants so he can’t correct himself, but luckily Ilya is nearby and catches him. His arms wrap around Shane’s waist, taking his weight. Shane’s hands let go of the trousers and hold on to Ilya’s strong arms. Their faces are close together and for a beat, neither move as they lock eyes. Ilya slowly rights Shane and shifts his hold so Shane can stand and take off the pants. Shane removes them and now he’s standing very close to Ilya in just his boxers. Both are breathing harder than normal, their stare only broken when Tania bustles into the room with the next outfit. Ilya takes a step back and sits, trying to calm his nerves.

When he deems himself human again, he stands up and helps move the clothing into either the Buy pile or the No pile. He can’t help himself, though, and brushes against Shane’s hands when they pass off clothing. He swears Shane is doing the same. The electric current between them is so charged he’s surprised it’s not visible. Ilya stands behind him and wipes non-existent dust off the shoulders of the next sport jacket just to have another excuse to touch him.

-

Ilya is a menace. Shane is loving it. Ilya keeps finding excuses to touch him and Shane is not complaining. Ilya gently pushes his lower back to move him forward off the pedestal to stand closer to the angled 3-piece mirror. Then his hands are on Shane’s shoulders, turning him to the side so Shane can see what the outfit looks like from the back. Shane has not been paying any attention to the clothing at this point, focusing only on Ilya’s hands.

Shane is disappointed when the appointment ends, along with the ample opportunity it provided to be touched by Ilya. He’ll need to come up with another plan but right now he has to try and be professional.

This lasts two minutes.

Shane unlocks his jeep and Ilya scoots ahead of him to the driver door. At first Shane thinks he’s going to open the door for him, which is not something he’s done before and kind of weird to do to the driver, but then Ilya starts to take a seat! Shane grabs his shoulder to stop his movement and pulls him back out. Ilya doesn’t put up a resistance and let’s Shane drag him out.

“What do you think you’re doing? I’m driving!”

“I want to make it back to your apartment before Christmas, I’m driving!” Ilya says while ushering Shane to the passenger side by holding his arms and walking him backwards.

“Oh my god I don’t drive that slow, you’re such an ass!”

“Yes, and this ass is telling your ass to be a good passenger princess and let me drive you home,” Ilya says in - if Shane is not mistaken - a seductive voice. He keeps walking him backwards until Shane’s back hits the passenger door. Ilya’s hands are still holding Shane tight, his eyes are blazing, pupils dilated, and he’s standing very close. They stay like that for a few heartbeats staring into each other’s eyes. All Shane needs to do is lean in. Ilya would meet him there, right? Just as he’s about to close the gap, Ilya lets go and hurries to the driver side. Shane feels off balance and only gets into the vehicle when Ilya reaches his door. Did he seriously just think about kissing his personal assistant out in public?

“I’d say that was a successful shopping trip. My closet will look a lot better now, right?” Shane tries for normal.

“Yes. I can help you put everything away if you like. I’ll even let you organize.”

“Let me?! It’s my closet!”

“I’m nice guy,” Ilya smirks.

“That would be helpful, thank you. For everything today,” Shane says with a smile.

Ilya’s smirk becomes a soft smile.

-

They are adamant about making the trip from the underground parking to the apartment in one trip. Laden with all the shopping bags and garment bags, they look a little ridiculous.

“Okay, maybe I bought too much.”

Ilya giggles which sets Shane off. They keep laughing and then making eye contact and laughing some more. By the time they are outside Shane’s apartment door they are almost crying laughing, both of them with sore ab muscles from the unexpected workout. They don’t even know what they’re laughing about anymore. Probably a pressure release from all the tension.

They make it to the bedroom and walk-in closet and dump all the bags on the floor.

“Here’s the plan. Organize by colour. Top bars are for shirts; bottom bars are for pants and shorts. The back wall will be suits. I don’t really care which colour goes where, so long as all colours are grouped together. Got it?”

“Got it.”

With that, they each take a bag and start sorting. The walk-in closet is not small by any means, but it’s not huge, either, which means they are constantly getting in each other’s way. Ilya places his hand on Shane’s lower back to scoot past him. Shane times his exit through the door for when Ilya is coming in, forcing them to face each other and sidestep through, chests touching. Shane is drunk on Ilya’s woodsy scent.

-

Ilya is going insane. They keep touching each other and he’s half-hard just from that. They get to the last garment bag. Ilya holds it up so Shane can take each piece out and hang them up appropriately. He folds the empty garment bag and places it on the top shelf with the others.

Shane is still next to him. Ilya gestures with one arm to let Shane leave the room first, using his other hand to guide him forward. Shane moves, then turns in his arms, placing his arms on Ilya’s chest while his own arms land on Shane’s back on instinct. Their eyes meet and they both lean in. Ilya’s lips meet Shane’s and he slides one hand up to cup Shane’s jaw. Shane moans which spurs Ilya on, letting his tongue seek entry. Shane opens his mouth and it’s Ilya’s turn to moan when he finally tastes Shane. Shane’s hands explore Ilya’s chest over his shirt for a moment before he snags the shirt and pulls Ilya through the door into the bedroom. Ilya follows willingly focused solely on kissing Shane while trying to convey almost two months of waiting and wanting. Shane goes back to letting his hands explore Ilya’s body.

Shane pulls his face back slightly but keeps his hands where they are, and says softly, “This is such a bad idea.”

Ilya doesn’t let go either and says, in the same low voice, “Yes. Do you want to stop?”

“Fuck no,” Shane says and leans back in to kiss him. Thank fuck. At least now they know they both agree this is a terrible idea, but they are doing it anyway.

-

Shane’s entire body is on fire with excitement and nerves. Ilya’s lips are so soft, and his kisses are hungry and urgent, like he’s been waiting for this as long as Shane has. Everything Shane has ever imagined doing with a man comes crashing into his head and he doesn’t know where to start. Instead of using his brain, he’s letting his body choose, and his body wants to press up against Ilya’s. He steps closer, chests pressed together and lets Ilya feel his erection through his jeans. Ilya’s hands drop to Shane’s ass, pushing his hips even harder into Ilya. Shane can feel Ilya’s hard length and slowly rocks his hips to give them both some friction. The feeling is intense and heat pools in his gut. Shane moans with every rock.

Ilya’s hands slide under Shane’s shirt. Shane tugs off Ilya’s shirt and pulls away from the kiss to take in his glorious chest. It’s even better than he imagined, his pecs are so well-defined, and his stomach is hard. He has sparse light hair above the belly button which gets denser the lower it goes, in a nice V shape, the bottom of which is hidden under his jeans. Shane unbuttons and unzips Ilya’s pants and slips his hand inside feeling another man’s dick for the first time. Shane could almost come just from this. He rubs up and down Ilya’s cock, letting out an open-mouthed moan, then looking back at Ilya. Ilya is watching him and crashes their lips together again. Shane wants to know what he tastes like. He follows his bodies desires and drops to his knees, lowering Ilya’s boxers enough for his cock to come out. This is the first erect cock Shane has seen in real life that isn’t his own. He lets his hand run the length of it first, his eyes are wide as they take in the impressive thickness and length. He leans in and licks the tip. He moans and Ilya groans above him. Ilya’s hands find Shane’s hair and rest there gently, letting Shane do whatever he wants.

Pre-come leaks out and Shane eagerly laps it up, reveling in the taste. He puts the head into his mouth and starts by sucking just that. This is not enough, though, he leans in further, taking another couple inches. The weight of his cock on his tongue is glorious. He looks up at Ilya, who’s watching him, and nods encouragingly. Shane pulls back, licks the tip, then takes him in again. He repeats this motion than speeds up, never letting his dick leave his mouth. One hand is holding the base so he can keep the angle, the other hand is holding on to Ilya’s hip for leverage. Ilya moans and swears and sooner than Shane would like Ilya is pulling him back to standing.

“Was that… bad?” Shane asks, worried.

“No. Opposite. Too much, too good,” Ilya says, voice wrecked. “Is your first time with a man?”

Shane nods, hoping that won’t turn Ilya off.

“Okay, we take it slow. Did you like sucking my cock?” Ilya asks without judgement.

“Yes,” Shane whispers.

“Do you want to do it some more?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I get on the bed,” Ilya says as he takes the rest of his clothes off. “Come on, I want to see you,” he gestures for Shane to take off his clothes, too.

Shane smirks, “You saw me in the change room.”

“Yeah, I want more,” Ilya says, pulling off his socks. He’s now fully naked and props himself up on his elbows to see him better.

Shane pulls off his shirt, folds it, and places it on the dresser. Ilya smiles a giddy wide smile. Shane takes off his pants, folds them, and places them on top of the shirt. He hesitates a moment, then slides the boxers off, and folds them, too. He puts his arms out to the side and asks, “Okay?”

Ilya’s eyes never leave Shane, and he pats the bed next to him, “Come here.”

Shane crawls beside him, nervous and excited.

“Can I?” Ilya asks, his hand running down Shane’s torso to his hips and stopping just shy of its destination. Shane nods. Ilya wraps his hand around Shane’s cock and strokes it.

“Oh fuck,” Shane whimpers. Ilya kisses him, swallowing his sounds. He trails kisses down his neck to his chest, to his balls, then licks up Shane’s erection, earning another swear.

Ilya takes him in his mouth and sucks deep and fast. He hums and the vibration enhances the already insane sensation. Ilya takes all of Shane in his mouth and bobs his head fast.

“Ilya, I’m gonna come, holy fuck, holy fuck, don’t stop…”

Ilya sucks hard and keeps the momentum until Shane is coming down his throat, groaning, “Ilya, oh my god, Ilya.” Ilya swallows every last drop before letting Shane’s dick slide out of his mouth. He crawls his way up Shane’s body and kisses him, letting Shane taste himself on his tongue. Shane pushes him onto his back and moves between his legs, eyes wild with want. He takes Ilya into his mouth again and tries to mimic what Ilya was doing. He’s not able to fit the entire thing, yet, so he uses a hand to stroke up to meet his mouth. He speeds up when he hears Ilya moaning and swearing above him. His hands are on Shane’s head again and help set the pace Ilya needs. Shane loves the feeling of his cock in his mouth and would gladly stay here as long as it takes. It doesn’t end up taking much longer, though, before Ilya pulls him off and strokes himself to completion, coming on his hand. Shane watches, enraptured. Ilya turns Shane’s face and kisses him deeply.

He gently pulls back, squeezes Shane’s shoulder with his clean hand to say, “don’t move”, and he rolls over to grab a tissue to wipe his hand. He returns to Shane and positions himself on top, looking into his eyes before leaning in for another kiss.

Now that they’ve leaped over the edge together, they enjoy the free fall of whatever may come.

-

“Was that okay? For first time with a man?” Ilya asks, pretty certain that Shane enjoyed himself but also knowing it could be a big deal.

“Better than I imagined. I’m sure I’ll freak out later about what this means and we work together and… but right now I just want to enjoy this,” Shane says, dragging his fingertips along Ilya’s biceps.

“Good. Me too. It can be tomorrow’s problem. Tonight I want to take you apart,” he says, nuzzling Shane’s neck.

“I think you already did,” he says with a satisfied smile.

“Mmmm but I have so many ideas. I have been thinking about this since October. I don’t know if we get more than one night. I want to show you everything,” he says as he kisses along Shane’s jaw.

“Me too. Since I first saw you,” Shane admits.

“Do you ever think about me when you touch yourself?” Ilya whispers into his ear. Shane shudders at the words as much as the sensation. He doesn’t see the point of lying.

“Yes.”

“Do you dream about me?”

“Yes.”

“And what am I doing, in your dreams? Am I opening you up?”

Shane nods. “You’re… inside me.”

“Fuck, Shane. I want to fuck you. But if it’s too soon tonight, is okay. We go at your pace,” he reassures him while kissing across his freckled cheeks.

“You. Um. You’re okay being. The. Top?” Shane asks, trying and failing not to be embarrassed.

“Yes. I have tried to bottom before when I was younger but was not comfortable for me.”

“Okay. That’s good. I mean, not that you had a bad experience. I just mean. I don’t think I’d like to top.”

They speak quietly, almost nose to nose, Ilya has shifted so they are lying side by side. Their arms and legs are all tangled together.

“You have been with women?”

“A few. It wasn’t good for me. Probably not for them either.”

“And you did not experiment with men before?” Ilya asks, brushing his fingertips along Shane’s jaw.

“I didn’t let myself. Too much risk, with hockey. It sucked but it wasn’t impossible. Until you came along anyway,” he chuckles softly.

Ilya smiles at this. “Is true, I am irresistible.”

“Such an ass,” he grumbles.

“No, you have such an ass. It has been tormenting me for months. You did Calvin Klein photo shoot, and I thought I was going to die.”

“Oh my god. That shoot almost ruined me. I almost asked you to leave the room on some silly errand just to make sure I didn’t get hard.”

“I was hard.”

“You were?!” Shane looks delighted at this revelation.

“You remember the first day you were sick at the hotel?”

Shane smirks. “You mean when I took my shirt off and stretched and you ran away?”

“I knew you did that on purpose!” Ilya accuses, rolling back over so Shane is holding his weight. “After your evil stunt, I ran to my room and came like five seconds after touching myself.”

Shane moans and kisses him. “Me too.”

“Fuck.”

They kiss and hold each other until one of their stomach’s starts growling, making them giggle.

“I have chicken and rice, or we can order dinner?”

“Let’s order. I am craving burgers. And the place I’m thinking of has good rice bowls, too.”

Thirty minutes later they sit at the new dining table that was delivered a few days ago, wearing sweatpants and nothing else. Shane worries the spell will be broken outside of the bedroom and things will be awkward.

“Okay, tell me first impression,” Ilya asks after the first couple of bites. “Obviously you thought I was hot,” he said, accurately.

“Yeah. That was one thing. But your hotness would have been ruined if you weren’t so competent. But then you had to go and be all perfect. It made you even hotter.”

“Ahhhh yes, a competency kink. I have same thing. You are hot, too, obviously. But if you were bad at hockey, I would not be interested.”

“When we skated together and you actually beat me at that stupid race, I was never more annoyed and turned on at the same time. I didn’t know that was possible.”

“I contain multitudes.”

“My turn. At what point did you realize I might also be interested?”

“That is harder to pinpoint. I guess I wasn’t certain until today. Lots of little hints, I think. And you met Svetlana. She said you were interested in me. You did not look at her breasts, so she assumed you were not straight.”

“Oh. Um. She wouldn’t say anything, right? You trust her?” Shane worries at his bottom lip.

“I trust her with my life. She’s known about me since we were young. Is not safe to be bisexual or gay in Russia. I told her not to say anything about you, and she said of course.”

The confidence and ease in the way he speaks calms Shane down immediately.

“Jackie was my Svetlana. She said you were interested as well.”

“Jackie is very observant. Or maybe is just women in general. And men are stupid.”

Shane gathers up the takeout containers and disposes of everything, putting any leftovers in the fridge.

“So, is it like swimming, no having sex for an hour after eating?” Shane jokes but is also kind of curious.

Ilya smiles and wraps his arms around him.

“No old wives’ tale about this. But probably still good to digest a bit. We can watch a movie and then I take you apart some more?” He says softly, nuzzling their noses together before leaning in for a kiss.

“Okay,” Shane says against Ilya’s mouth.

They walk to the couch, holding hands. Ilya takes the end seat and pulls Shane down to cuddle next to him. Shane snags the remote and navigates to Netflix again.

“What are you in the mood for?”

“Comedy, I think.”

Shane navigates to Comedy movies and swipes through, nothing catching his eye at first.

“Oh, The Truman Show. I guess I wouldn’t have called it a comedy but it’s really good. Have you seen it?”

“No. Jim Carey is funny guy, though. What is Truman Show about?”

“The plot follows Truman, that’s Jim Carey’s character, living his life. But he doesn’t know that he’s been living a reality show the entire time. Then weird things start happening and he gets paranoid that his world isn’t right.”

“Ah, very interesting. Yes, let’s watch.”

Ilya lets his hand rest in Shane’s hair, carding through it, and gently massaging his scalp. He kisses his head every now and then. The movie keeps his attention even when Shane’s hand drifts lightly across Ilya’s stomach and chest.

Ilya comments on the movie now and then, pointing out things he’s noticed (“the posters in travel agent’s office are funny”). Shane is happy that Ilya likes to pay attention to movies. He’s not passively watching it.

The credits roll and Ilya declares that it was a good movie, and he agrees that even though it’s not a traditional comedy, it was a good balance between light and heavy.

Ilya places his hand on Shane’s jaw, bringing their lips together for a sweet kiss. “Do you still want?”

“I still want,” Shane replies with hooded eyes and a shy smile. Ilya kisses him deeper for a moment.

“Upstairs. We need a bed for my plans.”

They kiss and giggle their way up the stairs and then fall on the bed.

“I should have asked, do you have condoms? And lube?”

“Top drawer of that nightstand.” Ilya reaches over, grabs the supplies, and places them within reach on the bed. He can’t seem to stop kissing Shane, even though their lips are red and raw by now.

“On your stomach,” Ilya orders. Shane rolls over and Ilya removes Shane’s sweatpants slowly, savoring the view of Shane’s bare ass.

“Finally,” he says, rubbing his hands on the round cheeks. “Is so fucking perfect, Shane, you have no idea.” Ilya leans down and kisses both cheeks. He’d love to leave a mark, but Shane has practice tomorrow.

Ilya stands to remove his own sweats, and since both pairs belong to Shane, Ilya folds them and places them on top of the dresser.

“Have you ever touched yourself here?” Ilya asks, lightly grazing a finger down his crease.

“A bit. I have a… dildo,” Shane says into his arms to hide his embarrassment.

“That is so hot. I look forward to meeting this dildo, but not tonight.”

Ilya didn’t mean to imply that they could have more nights, it just slipped out. He really really hopes it’s not a one-time thing. Shane doesn’t comment beyond a shy, “oh my god.”

Ilya lubes his fingers, and spreads Shane’s cheeks with his other hand. He slides his finger over the hole then circles it.

“If you ever need to me to stop, say stop, okay? No matter what I’m doing, I will stop right away. I want this to be good experience for you. We don’t do anything you don’t want to do, but I can’t know unless you tell me, yes?”

“Yeah, I promise. Please touch me.”

Ilya kisses his ass cheek again as a reward for being honest. He resumes circling around the rim as Shane breathes deep to relax. Ilya slips one finger inside, and Shane’s body clamps up for a second, getting used to the intrusion.

“Breathe, I’ve got you,” Ilya murmurs. Ilya slides his finger to the next knuckle before pausing again. Shane whispers, “More.”

Ilya pushes his finger all the way in then slowly retracts, leaving the tip of his finger inside. He pushes it in and pulls it out, finding a rhythm. Shane is panting beneath him. Ilya adds a second finger, giving Shane’s body a chance to stretch before he pushes it deeper. He slowly scissors his fingers to help the stretch. Ilya changes the angle, searching for Shane’s prostate. He finds the bundle of nerves and knows it’s the right spot when Shane arches his back, calling out, “oh fuck, right there!”

Ilya adds a third finger, pushing in deep until he hits the prostate again.

“Oh my god, fuck,” Shane intones.

Ilya’s own cock is spilling pre-come just from Shane’s reactions and the anticipation of entering this tight hole. He removes his fingers, Shane whimpers at the loss, and tries to push his hips back seeking friction.

“On your back,” Ilya says. Shane rolls over, his poor dick is red and swollen. Ilya puts in the condom and rubs lube along his shaft. He grabs Shane’s legs and pushes them up, he leans down between them to line himself up, his cock waiting patiently at the entrance.

“Ready?”

“So ready,” Shane says, grabbing Ilya’s neck to ground himself.

Ilya pushes in, groaning at the tight heat surrounding his dick. Shane tips his head back, moaning and breathing through the new stretch. Ilya keeps going until all nine inches are buried deep in Shane. Shane holds on to Ilya for dear life, breathing and getting used to the fullness.

“So full. Oh my god, Ilya. Feels so good. Please move, please. Please,” Shane begs. Ilya is only too happy to oblige. He slowly pulls out and then pushes back in. It doesn’t take long for Shane to loosen up enough and Ilya starts pumping faster. Shane lets out a string of “ah, ah, ah’s” with each pounding. Ilya adjusts the angle slightly and lands on his prostate again. Shane cries out. Ilya thrusts and thrusts, sweat dripping down his forehead. He really wants to make Shane come hands free.

“Taking me so well, Shane. So fucking tight. Your ass is perfect. I’m going to fuck you all night, in every room.”

Shane can’t make a coherent sentence so instead he pulls Ilya down for a messy kiss.

“I’m so close, Shane. Want you to come on my cock. Want to see you fall apart.”

“Fuck, so close,” Shane manages.

“Good boy. So good for me, Shane,” Ilya purrs. It’s the “good boy” that breaks Shane.

“Oh, Ilya, fuck!” He cries as his cock paints his chest with his release, untouched.

“Fuck, Shane!” The sight of Shane coming is more than enough for Ilya to lose control and let himself come, filling the condom. He keeps thrusting, slowing down, until he spasms one last time deep inside Shane. He collapses on Shane, both panting and catching their breath.

“Holy shit,” Shane says, his voice full of awe.

Ilya slides out and sits back on his heels to remove and tie the condom. He disposes of it in the bathroom and comes out with a wet towel to gently wipe Shane’s chest clean and tenderly takes care of the extra lube around his hole. Shane closes his eyes, enjoying the attention on the sensitive skin.

Ilya falls onto his back next to Shane, who kisses his forehead. Ilya shimmies further up and brings Shane in to rest his head on Ilya’s chest. Shane cuddles very willingly, craving physical touch after the intensity.

“That was so hot,” Shane says in a quiet, satisfied voice.

“Very… I told you I want to fuck you in every room. Is there anything specific you want to try? What have you been imagining?” Ilya asks full of curiosity.

“That sounds like a good start. I suppose, just, other positions? I don’t know. I trust you… um but I don’t know if I can handle more tonight? Maybe… I know we said it would be tomorrow’s problem, but what if we gave ourselves a week? And then next week we figure things out?” Shane asks, heart racing from nerves.

“Of course,” Ilya says easily, hugging Shane and rubbing his back. “How about this. One night, I choose room, you choose position. Then next night, you choose room, I choose position.”

“Deal,” Shane agrees, relieved, kissing Ilya’s chest then neck.

“Next room is gym.”

“Do you like watching me do yoga?” Shane asks with a knowing smile.

“This is unrelated.”

“Liar,” Shane says, smirking.

-

“I shower then go home? Come back for usual work time,” Ilya offers.

“Oh. I mean. You can stay, if you want? I have a bunch of new clothes you can borrow for tomorrow,” Shane offers, hoping Ilya won’t leave. He’s enjoying the physical touch too much.

Ilya doesn’t usually spend the night. But he also doesn’t do repeats unless it’s a fuck buddy. And Shane is something different, so he guesses different rules need to apply? Should he spend the night? He is certainly very comfortable and doesn’t want to leave the warmth of Shane’s body heat or his nice bed.

“Okey. I stay.” He feels Shane relax against him and knows he made the right choice.

Chapter End Notes

These next few chapters were so much fun to write! 6 more days of sexy fun and exploration coming up!

Chapter 5: Day 2

Chapter Summary

Previously on "P.A. Wanted": Shane and Ilya finally have sex and decide to give themselves one week of fun before they figure anything out.

On today's episode: Day 2 of 7

Chapter Notes

The next morning Ilya slowly wakes from a pleasant dream feeling warmer than usual. He’s about to kick off his duvet when he notices that it’s already at his feet. Odd. Is he coming down with a fever? He drags his eyes open and finds the source of the heat in the beautiful man draped over his body. Right, Ilya thinks. He stayed the night. It made sense at the time when they were both sex drunk. How will Shane feel this morning? How does Ilya feel?

He takes stock of his situation. He gave his client two orgasms last night, something he told himself he would never do. He stayed the night, another thing he never does. They planned on doing this for an entire week, at least. Another unprecedented event. Okay, so a lot of firsts, not to mention Shane’s first time with a man. Can Ilya act normal today? Shane has a game at 7pm this evening. He’ll want to go for his morning run, protein shake, shower, yoga, protein shake #2, mid-day nap, shower, then suit up for the arena. Ilya can coordinate with Rolex, the upcoming Christmas hospital visit, and the Men’s Health magazine interview. Totally normal. Yes, Ilya thinks he can handle it. Be professional. Then this evening after the game, Shane will come back here, and Ilya will fuck him in the gym. Maybe he’ll make sure Shane still smells like the rink… tell him not to shower too much at the arena…

-

Shane wakes before his alarm which is typical. What is not typical is the warm body Shane is currently cuddling. He may have just had the best sleep of his damn life. But he needs to temper himself, they gave themselves one week not to freak out over whatever this is. Today is a game day and he needs to focus. Definitely can’t get hung up on the fact that he finally had sex with a man for the first time last night. Or that that man is still in his bed. Or that his backside feels sore in a pleasant way. Or that he’s kind of hard thinking about it all. Morning sex is a thing, right? How does one initiate that? Is Ilya still asleep? Probably can’t just start doing stuff while he’s still asleep, that must go against some rule or something…

-

Is Shane… hard? Yes, Ilya can feel Shane’s cock thicken against his hip. Great, he was doing such a good job keeping his own erection at bay and now, yep, there it goes. Fuck.

“Good morning,” Ilya murmurs.

“Mm morning,” Shane mumbles into Ilya’s chest.

“I did not send you the 9pm text last night. Such a terrible assistant. First item of the day, morning sex. Then cardio, breakfast, yoga, shower sex, nap time with sexy assistant, more shower sex, then arena for the game. Yes?”

-

Shane smiles, very glad Ilya is clearly on the same page.

“Yes,” he responds as he tentatively rocks his hard cock against Ilya’s hip. He lifts his head off Ilya’s chest and meets his lips for a hungry kiss. For a moment Shane almost worries about morning breath, but the thought doesn’t have time to land before Ilya’s tongue is in his mouth tasting like yesterday’s sex and his hand finds Shane’s and moves it against Ilya’s hard cock. They spend a moment jerking each other off while making out, the dry rubbing would be uncomfortable if it wasn’t so hot. Shane can’t wait any longer to have Ilya in his mouth again, so he starts kissing his way down his neck, chest, stomach, following the V down to his pubic hair, then finally meeting his hand on Ilya’s dick. Ilya had to let go of Shane as he moved down and he put both his hands behind his own head to enjoy the view.

Shane starts with kitten licks over Ilya’s tip, lapping up the precome that gathers there. He puts the tip into his mouth and sucks on it like a lollipop. He decides to explore while he’s down here, kissing his way down the shaft to Ilya’s balls. He tentatively licks them and puts one in his mouth to roll it around. It would be better, he thinks, if he didn’t feel the hair on his tongue. He makes his way back to his big cock and this time tries to put as much of it as possible into his mouth. He makes it maybe halfway and is disappointed. He pops off and stares at it like it insulted him.

-

Ilya is thoroughly enjoying watching Shane experiment and finds himself endeared at Shane’s angry kitten face when he can’t fit more of his dick into his mouth.

“If you want more, try to relax your jaw and your throat. Don’t focus on sucking for now. Take it slow.”

Shane tries again, focusing, and does get a bit deeper but then gags a bit when it reaches the back of his throat and he pulls off quickly.

“Fuck that’s hot. Do not be embarrassed about this. Gagging on my cock, fuck, I have dreams of this,” Ilya says encouragingly.

Shane looks up at him then back at his dick and tries again. This time, when he reaches the back of Shane’s throat and Shane’s body tries to gag, Shane lets it happen and stays there, getting used to the feeling. He doesn’t get sick, which seems to encourage him. He pulls back to take a breath and goes right back in. He takes him in just as deep, then moves up and down the length, sucking and almost-but-not-quite gagging. Ilya might float away from the high he feels watching Shane work.

“Fuck, Shane. Such a good mouth,” he moans.

Shane doesn’t stop as he locks his glassy eyes with Ilya, who almost comes right then and there. Ilya slips his fingers into his own mouth, then he grabs Shane’s biceps and hauls him up so Shane’s dick is in front of his mouth. Shane holds on to the headboard and Ilya strains his neck to gulp down his cock while his fingers tease at Shane’s puckered hole. It’s still a little loose from last night but Ilya works it open gently anyway.

-

The dual sensation of having his dick sucked and his asshole penetrated leaves Shane a whimpering mess. He unconsciously rocks onto Ilya’s fingers then into his mouth, chasing the pleasure.

“Oh my fuck, Ilya, fuck,” Shane cries. Before he can get too close to the edge, Ilya stops his ministrations and moves out from underneath him. He places himself behind Shane, pushes Shane’s shoulder blades down so his ass is in the air and he’s resting on his forearms on the pillows. Ilya rolls on a condom and lubes it up before lining himself up.

“Okay?” Ilya asks in a husky voice.

“Yes, fuck me, please,” Shane gasps. Ilya pushes in, the burning stretch feeling oh so good. The fullness, the pressure, Ilya’s tight almost-bruising grasp at Shane’s hips overtake all of Shane’s senses. Instead of waiting for Ilya to pump into him, Shane moves first, dragging Ilya in and out. The sound of their balls smacking together, of their gasps with every thrust, and the creaking of the bed are the hottest sounds Shane has ever heard. Shane changes his angle by dropping lower and suddenly Ilya’s cock is attacking Shane’s prostate with every thrust. The gasps turn into full-bodied moans of pleasure. Ilya takes control at this point, holding Shane’s hips still while he pounds into him with all his formidable strength.

-

Ilya is sweating as he humps Shane as fast and deep as he can manage, chasing both of their pleasure. He’s so close, but he’s determined to make Shane come first. Last night he finished him hands-free, but this morning he might have to help him along. Ilya is flying too close to the sun to last much longer. He slows to a stop, and says, “Lie down on your stomach.” Shane cooperates. Ilya’s hands are on the bed, flanking Shane. He resumes thrusting, now with Shane’s cock trapped between Shane and the bed, providing friction.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” Shane whimpers.

“So fucking hot, Shane. The sounds you make for me. Are you going to come for me?”

“Fuck, so close...”

Ilya doesn’t let up even as he feels his own heat building and building. He’s at the top of the crest and using every ounce of will power to hold his own orgasm back as he continues to pump.

“You have to come now, Shane, fuck, now,” Ilya commands in a desperate voice. Shane breaks, shudders, and releases onto his bedspread with a wail. His ass tightens with each spasm and Ilya’s dam breaks with a, “Fuck!”

He thrusts until he’s spent, both of them shuddering and swearing. He collapses on Shane, kissing his neck and shoulder.

-

Shane feels so full, satisfied, and content. Ilya’s weight on his back while they catch their breath helps ground him in the moment, and the kisses make him feel… warm? Cared for? Liked?

Then his alarm goes off and they both groan out complaints. Ilya reaches over to Shane’s phone and turns off the alarm. He slides out and heads to the bathroom, taking the condom with him. He comes back out with a wet towel and wipes Shane’s stomach clean while kissing him. They get off the bed and change the sheets in quiet harmony and then Shane stretches and sighs.

“Does morning sex count as cardio?” Ilya teases.

Shane stalks towards him, pushing him into the bathroom door for a deep kiss.

“I think it will have to. I didn’t expect to feel sore this morning, but running is probably not a good idea,” he says, blushing. “You shower first; I’ll do my yoga. You can choose whatever clothes you want and then I’ll shower.”

Ilya smiles, pleased with himself no doubt, and slips inside the washroom, closing the door. Shane grabs a pair of sweats and heads to his gym. He turns on the smart TV on the wall and navigates to YouTube to find a morning yoga routine. Yoga usually helps clear his head, but he finds his swirling thoughts too distracting to fully immerse himself this morning. How will the rest of the week go? Should they pretend nothing is different during the day? Will the guys notice anything is different with Shane? Will Shane be able to concentrate on hockey? Is he walking funny?

The routine is finishing up when Ilya jogs down the stairs, passes the studio with a quick glance inside to see Shane’s naked torso, and heads to the kitchen. Shane heads back upstairs for his turn in the shower. He maybe takes a slightly longer shower than usual as he cleans himself off, spending a bit more time on his backside. He also does a cursory check to make sure Ilya didn’t leave any marks and is happy (and maybe a little disappointed) not to see any evidence of the last twelve hours. He gets dressed in some loungewear and heads to the kitchen where Ilya is already on the laptop working away. Shane decides to go with “pretend nothing is happening during the day” and makes his protein breakfast smoothie. Ilya helps himself to a coffee and gets into work mode.

“You have a new invitation from Men’s Health. They are having a Christmas party next weekend and are inviting everyone they’ve interviewed this past year. Yours isn’t until next week and the article will only come out for the new year, but they want you there anyway. Black tie. New York. It happens to be the night before a game against New Jersey so you would be in town with a good excuse not to stay too late.”

Shane sighs. “I guess I should. At least this one isn’t as last minute.”

“Scott Hunter will be there, too. A few other athletes. Personal assistants are also invited, that is nice of them. You have a plus one as well, if you want to bring a date,” Ilya says in a neutral tone.

Shane snorts. “No date. You can RSVP yes. And that’s cool that personal assistants can come, too. Would be helpful. I’m terrible with names and faces that aren’t hockey. Hopefully you’re better at that and can make me look less awkward.” Ilya types away at the computer.

“They give the P.A.’s a catalogue of faces and names once everyone RSVPs. I’ll have time to study the people you should know and will help you.”

“Oh. That’s smart. Awesome! Black tie, you said? We went shopping for me, so I know I’ve got something. If you need something, make sure you take the credit card. That’s a work expense.”

“Thank you, I will.”

So civil, look at them! Shane is quite proud of how totally normal they are. He checks the clock on the stove and finds he has too much time left this morning. He decides to do some tape review of Calgary, their opponent this evening, to kill time.

-

Ilya orders them a healthy salad lunch which Shane scarfs down while on the phone with Hayden Pike. He only hears half of the conversation, but since Shane didn’t take the call somewhere private Ilya doesn’t feel too bad about eavesdropping.

“No, I’m not hiding anything from you…”

“I just needed her advice!”

“Because you’re an idiot,” he says with teasing affection.

“Drop it, please. It’s really nothing. Did you watch the clips I sent you? If Calgary’s D keeps going like they’ve been…” Ilya zones out once the hockey talk starts. “It’s really nothing” bugs Ilya even though it shouldn’t. Of course Shane has to say that to his straight teammate, whether it’s true or not. And of course it’s true, they said they were just fooling around for a day, then a week, and they’ll figure stuff out later. This could be a one-week thing, and he’ll have to go back to normal. He’s not sure how that would be possible but that’s future Ilya’s problem. “It’s really nothing” is a mantra he should be telling himself so he doesn’t get any hopes up. And what hopes? Shane is a closeted gay man in a sport that doesn’t allow him to come out. There is no hope until he retires, and what, is Ilya supposed to wait? What is he even thinking about, they’ve had sex three times, why is Ilya trying to plan some magical future? The sex was good, yes. Great, even. Amazing, really. But it’s not like Ilya hasn’t had great sex before. They’ll get it out of their system and go back to normal. It will be true if he keeps telling himself that.

Ilya has been staring at the inbox for five minutes and hasn’t made any progress. He sighs, takes a sip of cold coffee, reheats it, then turns his attention back on the inbox where another email request comes through.

-

At the arena, Shane is hyper focused on walking normally. He says goodbye to Ilya as they separate for their respective destinations, Ilya to the friends and family box, and Shane to the locker room. The smell of the locker room and the arena in general helps to calm his nerves a bit. Perhaps he looks a bit too calm, though, because -

“Cap! Why are you smiling?” Andropov calls out. Half the locker room stops what they are doing to face Shane, who immediately blushes.

“What, I can’t be happy it’s a game day?” He tries.

Hayden looks at him shrewdly then his eyes go wide in understanding.

“Oh my god, you got laid last night!” He all but shouts. Shane might punch him, his smile definitely gone now.

Some teammates wolf whistle, others laugh, and the rest ask questions.

“Who is she?” “Where’d you meet her?” “I didn’t know you were seeing someone!” “You’re holding out on us!”

“Calm down everyone, it’s nothing. You’re all jumping to conclusions. Let’s focus on beating Calgary tonight. They’re on a winning streak, and that stops tonight, right!?” He attempts to rile them up for the right thing. It does not work.

“Yeah, yeah, of course but seriously Hollander, who is it?” Clarkson asks. “Is it the chick who was distracting you during tape review the other day?” This sets the rest of the team off.

Hayden, his best friend and ultimate traitor, pipes up, “It must be! He asked Jackie for dating advice a couple days ago!” More whistles ensue and Shane really goes beat red, now.

“Well, that’s the last time I ask your wife for anything. Thanks a lot, Pike,” he says, annoyed and bitter. Hayden knows how much Shane values his privacy. He hopes relegating him to a last name will hurt Hayden just a bit. It doesn’t seem to, he just laughs.

“Oh! I know! We can ask his personal assistant!” Comeau shouts and everyone calls out their agreements. Shane is lucky he’s already red otherwise he’s afraid the blush would have given him away.

“Guys, we have a game to get ready for. You’re all making a big deal out of literally nothing,” he says with his Captain voice. Unfortunately, the guys are too far gone and a few of them speed away to find Ilya. Now Shane is even more angry. He’s their captain and he told them to do something, or not do something, and they ignore him. Do other captains have this problem? Shane would never treat a captain this way.

He wants to pull his phone out and warn Ilya but that might make them think he’s texting “her”, so he doesn’t and just hopes Ilya knows how to handle himself. He’ll apologize later… maybe on his knees… wow, now who has to focus??

-

Ilya is on the phone with a rep from Reebok discussing the general overview of the next year’s campaign when some of the Metros players enter the family box. He recognizes Comeau, Drapeau, and Boiziau. They rush up to him, and he gives them an “I’m on the phone, you idiots” look that they pointedly ignore.

“Dude! Who’s Hollander fucking?”

Ilya almost drops the phone.

“Excuse me, Katherine, give me one moment please,” he says before he mutes the phone and stands up to face the players.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? I am on phone with a sponsor for Hollander and you just shouted, “who is Hollander fucking”. Do you think your captain will appreciate if he loses a sponsor because his idiot teammates don’t respect him? Get the fuck back in the locker room,” he says, using his old captain’s voice. Only Boiziau looks chastised, the other two look like they want to punch him.

“If anything, his sponsor might respect him more if he got laid more often. Who’s the chick?” Comeau asks derisively. Boiziau grabs his and Drapeau’s shoulders and tries to steer them away.

“I don’t work for you. I don’t work for metros. Why would I answer your fucking question? Now go. Unlike you, I am working, yes?” Ilya responds with as much snark as he can muster.

“Fuck you, dude. You probably want to suck his dick…” Drapeau trails off as they turn around to leave. Ilya is seething at that last comment. Yes, he does want to suck Shane’s dick. He probably will, tonight. But Drapeau says it like that’s something to be ashamed of and he wants to punch him for it. Sadly, he has his work permit to think about since he’s not a permanent resident yet. Once the door is closed, Ilya texts Shane.

Ilya: your teammates deserve bag skates I think, yes?

Shane 🏒: already on it. might also tack on line sprints after.

Ilya: good idea. You are a very good Captain.

Ilya unmutes his phone.

“Sorry about that Katherine. You were saying, about a commercial in the summer?”

-

The game against Calgary is a brutal one for everyone but Shane. As soon as Shane hit the ice, everything else went away, as usual. His edges were clean, his stick handling was immaculate, and his power was fierce. The Calgary center never had a chance at the puck and could honestly have sworn that it was magnetized to Shane’s stick. Shane scored two goals in the first period alone, both on breakaways. His own team couldn’t keep up with him, but even still they were more than a beat behind every time. When Shane wasn’t on the ice, Calgary scored.

At the first intermission, Shane berates his players for their slowness. “Get your heads out of my bedroom and into the fucking game. Why would I share any details with teammates who can’t fucking score?”

Luckily, they take this as a challenge and Pike scores off a rebound in the second period. But again, when Shane is not on the ice, Calgary scores again. They are only up one goal going into the third.

“Comeau, maybe you can help Drapeau out by stopping Calgary from getting through?”

Shane has never been one to single out players, but the way they treated him earlier is still rankling him, so he feels no guilt in being a bit of a dick right now. Comeau’s eyes go dark, but the other D-men laugh and promise to do better.

-

From his vantage point in the box, Ilya can see the next goal before it happens. Shane feints a swoop around the net and backhands it into the bottom corner, bouncing off the goalie’s skate right into the net. Everyone is on their feet and hats are thrown over the glass. The camera zooms in on Shane’s smiling face as Pike and Boiziau throw their arms over him to celebrate. It takes some time for the hats to be cleared off the ice, and when play resumes Shane is still on the ice.

Calgary’s defenseman chases Shane who passes the puck to Clarkson. Comeau hopped the boards a couple seconds ago and should be there to block the incoming hit but he’s too slow. The defenseman slams Shane into the boards, illegally since he no longer had possession of the puck, and the whistle blows. It was a hard hit, too. Shane was dropped to one knee, but he got up right away and shook it off. Ilya knows there will be bruising for sure. He watches as Comeau doesn’t even try to protect his Captain from the hit. Normally it would start a fight or at least the beginning of one that the refs would put a stop to. But he doesn’t even do that much. What an asshole, Ilya thinks. He watches Shane head to the bench and the Calgary D-man get a penalty. Coach keeps Comeau out there and in the next play Calgary scores with a man down. Coach and Shane are furious, and Ilya feels a sense of satisfaction that the asshole will get chewed out for being such a shitty player.

Comeau doesn’t see any more ice time for the rest of the period.

Montreal still wins by one goal, though, so at least Shane will be happy.

-

“Hey man, sorry about earlier. I think I got caught up in the excitement. Why don’t you come over this weekend for dinner?” Hayden asks Shane in the locker room after their showers. Shane is still annoyed at his best friend, though, considering he amplified the excitement.

“I’ll check my schedule and let you know,” he says noncommittally. Hayden looks a bit sad but nods in understanding.

9:00pm
Ilya, 👻P.A.:
10am - noon: practice
4pm: team bus to airport
6:30pm: flight to Winnipeg

Comeau tries to convince the guys to go out to celebrate the win, but a lot of the guys seem upset with his poor performance and no one, not even Drapeau, his closest friend, takes him up on it. “You’re all a bunch of pussies! I’m going to get my dick wet, see you fuckers tomorrow!”

Shane just doesn’t understand why Comeau, or anyone, would think it’s cool or interesting to talk about sex so crudely.

JJ waits for Drapeau to also leave the locker room before he asks who might be interested in going out, wherever Comeau isn’t and a handful of guys respond enthusiastically. “Capitaine?” JJ asks.

“I’m good, you guys have fun. But not too much fun. Practice tomorrow at 10am.”

Luckily no one brings up his “girl” again and JJ takes a seat next to him on the bench and says, in French, “I’m sorry for prying before the game. I won’t do that again. Are we good?”

“Thanks, JJ, I appreciate that,” Shane says, which is the most honest thing he can say at the moment, still annoyed with him, too. They may not be as close as him and Hayden, but he thought they were close enough that JJ would respect his privacy from the get-go.

Shane escapes to the player’s entrance without further delay. Somehow, Ilya is already sitting in the driver’s seat.

“When did you take my keys?” Shane asks, faking his annoyance as he climbs into the passenger seat.

“This is your second key you keep on the hook beside the front door,” Ilya responds, holding up the key fob. Sure enough, Shane can feel his own keys in his pocket.

“Good game for you. I don’t know where your team was today but at least you showed up to play,” Ilya says.

“Fuck, I know, right. I yelled at them during both intermissions. I don’t normally but they really pissed me off today. Comeau especially,” Shane complains. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him lately. We used to all be so close and now…” he trails off, unsure.

“Comeau, Drapeau, and Boiziau came to find me before the game. I was on phone with Reebok and they barged in yelling and asking who you fucked last night. I don’t know if Reebok rep heard or not, but I muted and told them all to fuck off.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry about that. They are definitely doing bag skates until they throw up.”

“Is not your fault they are assholes.”

“JJ apologized after. But ya. I’m pretty angry at Hayden right now. He’s supposed to be my best friend, he knows I value my privacy, and he decided to basically yell that I got laid last night,” Shane complains.

“Some best friend. Didn’t even realize you also had sex this morning,” Ilya tries to lighten Shane’s mood. Shane snorts, so mission accomplished.

“Sometimes I wonder…” Shane starts and stops, looking out the window.

“Wonder what?” Ilya prompts.

“Just… whether other teams are like this. I can hardly compare it to the junior leagues because I was a lot better than everyone else. They hated me for it. But this is the MLH, we’re all supposed to be the best. I thought I’d be getting a family, you know? But that didn’t happen, and it’s only gotten worse after making Captain. So ya, I wonder if it’s possible for a team to really feel like a family,” Shane rambles, hoping he made any kind of sense. Ilya is silent while he considers.

“Sorry, don’t mind me. I know I have a lot to be grateful for. Just in a weird mood,” Shane’s self-judgment kicks in.

“No, remember what I said before? Is always safe space with me. You are allowed to complain about things, Shane,” Ilya says. “I think is possible, but you would need to tell Coach to drop everyone and build from scratch. You said everyone is best already. So, focus on finding good people. You are good enough to teach anyone how to be better at hockey. Harder to teach people how to be good people. Make sense?” Ilya asks, not sure if his English is clear enough to get his point across.

“Yeah. Theriault would never do that, though. Wish I could have like an anonymous poll go out to each team asking players about their team dynamic. Then I could just ask to be traded to the team with the best results,” Shane says, wishing for the moon.

“You would leave Montreal?”

“I’m really only here because they had the first draft pick that year. I stayed because it’s my mother’s favourite team. I feel like I didn’t have much say in it.”

“I could do that.”

“You could do what?” Shane asks, confused.

“The poll. I can make anonymous poll. Share link to all teams. We would have to do it secretly, before management finds out and stops players from answering. But is doable.”

“Wait, seriously? How would that even work?”

“Ah, less you know, the better, probably. I take care of it,” Ilya says, reversing the jeep into Shane’s parking space. “Now, I choose gym. Have you chosen position?” Ilya says, cheekily.

-

Ilya opens the door to the gym, strips off all his clothes, and strokes himself while watching Shane. Shane’s roller coaster of a mood levels off at “arousal” and he takes his clothes off without breaking eye contact with Ilya’s moving hand.

“How do you want me?” Ilya murmurs. Shane shivers and then steps to the weight bench, bending down to place his hands on it and spreads his legs a bit. The bench faces the mirror wall, so Shane watches Ilya’s face as he approaches. Desire and arousal etch themselves into Ilya’s face as his hand caresses Shane’s backside. Ilya takes the time to lube his fingers from a bottle he clearly planted here earlier in the day. He fingers Shane open while Shane watches him through the mirror. Ilya must admit he forgot about the mirror when he suggested this room, but clearly Shane hadn’t, and it makes Ilya’s cock even harder. He has a perfect view of Shane’s ass as well as his gorgeous facial expressions. He traces the bruises on Shane’s side with his other hand, still working Shane open. He’s panting under Ilya and rocking onto his fingers after he slots the third one in. Always so needy and desperate, his Shane. Ilya wouldn’t have it any other way.

He grabs the condom from the same shelf as the lube, rolls it on, and adds more lube to his cock. Before he can line himself up, though, Shane moves away from the bench to the open floor space and bends over into downward dog. Ilya almost comes just from the sight and the reminder of that first day of work.

“Fuck, Shane, too good for me,” Ilya says in worship. Careful of Shane’s lack of leverage in this position, he steps between his legs, holds his hips, and pushes in.

“Oh god, Ilya, fuck yes.”

Ilya moves slowly, taking in the sight from the mirror. Shane’s arms and legs begin to shake after a few minutes, not surprising given he had over twenty minutes of ice time in tonight’s game. Ilya slips out and lets Shane choose another position. Shane surprises him yet again by moving to his thigh machine and making Ilya sit first. Shane faces away, sinks down onto Ilya’s cock, then starts working out.

“Shane, what are you…” Ilya gasps. Shane works out his outer thighs, pressing them against the pads and pushing them out. Ilya swears he can feel every muscle in Shane’s body through his dick.

“Fuck, Shane.”

“Every time I’m in here lately… I always think… what it would feel like… with you inside me,” Shane gasps. “So fucking good.”

It’s so hot Ilya has to bite him bottom lip hard to distract from the too-much pleasure lest he finish too soon. They’ve only just gotten started.

“You will kill me, Shane. Fuck, fuck. Deadlifts next, please Shane, please,” Ilya begs, remembering the gym at the arena.

Shane extracts himself from Ilya and the machine and gets his deadlift bar ready. He stands with his legs shoulder width apart, bar in hand, Ilya slides back in behind him, then Shane bends over, hinging at the hips before standing straight again. Ilya might faint from the tightness and the heat. Shane does a few reps before he whispers, “Now you move, in and out, slow.”

Ilya does as he’s told. The feeling of pushing in while Shane is bending down, and pulling out while Shane is standing up, is unlike anything he’s ever done before.

“I should work on my core now, don’t you think?” Shane pants after a minute. Ilya can do nothing but nod. He indicates for Ilya to sit down on the mat. Shane sinks onto him again, this time face-to-face. Shane kisses him before he gently pushes him to lie down. Shane adjusts his feet so they’re on either side of Ilya’s face.

“Only makes sense to do some Russian twists, right?” Shane says and then he’s rotating his torso side to side.

Shane can feel Ilya inside him as his ab muscles contract around him. It feels better than he ever dreamed.

Ilya might actually be dead. Surely this is heaven. He wants to be here, always. No matter what Shane is doing, Ilya will be right inside him, feeling everything. Ilya tracks the sweat dripping down Shane’s forehead and longs to lick it off.

“Arms, next.” Shane gets up and picks up a dumbbell, leans over the weight bench and starts rowing. Ilya wastes no time sliding back inside Shane, although now his composure is starting to crack. His thrusts are faster and deeper, the mirror showing Ilya how close Shane is as well.

Shane lowers the dumbbell safely to the floor, stays bent over, and sighs out, “Fuck me, harder, please, harder.”

Ilya thrusts as hard as his body will allow in his current sex-drunk state. Both are moaning and groaning with each thrust.

“Shane, I can’t, I have to, come now please,” is all Ilya manages before he’s coming, back arching and then bowing forwards. Shane comes with a shouted, “Ilya, fuck!” His release splatters all over his chest and bench. They collapse to their knees, Ilya still inside him somehow, as they catch their breath together.

“Have you… ever done that… before?” Shane asks between breaths with a smile on his face.

“Ah, no. Being a free use dick while someone works out is a first for me. I will not be upset if it happens again. Fuck, Shane, that was so hot,” Ilya says, mumbling the last bit into Shane’s sweaty back. Remembering his want from earlier, he licks the salty sweat off.

“Okay, I think I need a bath after all that. I don’t think I can stand any longer,” Shane giggles, which makes Ilya chuckle, too. Ilya slides outs and ties off the condom.

“I will get bath ready, come on, I help you up the stairs,” Ilya says as he pulls Shane up. He keeps his chest to Shane’s back and walks him forward out of the gym and pushes him up the stairs, taking as much of his weight as he needs.

The bath, it turns out, is big enough for two grown men. Ilya massages Shane in the hot water and gently cleans him with the nice body wash, rinsing away the smell of the arena soap. After, Ilya wraps Shane up in a fluffy warm towel and dries him off. They crawl into bed, Ilya sets their alarm, and they fall asleep within seconds.

Chapter End Notes

Each "Day" will be it's own Chapter! I have them all written, still need to edit, and I'm so excited to write what happens on day 8! 👀 Any guesses?? hehe

Thank you for reading!

<3

Chapter 6: Day 3

Chapter Summary

Previously on P.A. Wanted: Shane's team doesn't respect his privacy, but Ilya makes him feel better in the gym.

Today's episode: The team flies to Winnipeg where Ilya gets Shane a suite. Hotel sex ensues.

Chapter Notes

A shorter chapter, but chapter 7 is dropping today, too!

Hope you enjoy!

This time they wake to the alarm going off. They both grumble and stumble out of bed. Ilya grabs his toiletry bag and heads to the main washroom, leaving Shane with the en-suite. They get dressed, both yawning, and are about to head downstairs when Shane grabs Ilya’s arm.

“Wait, when we go downstairs, we’ll be in work mode again,” he says, looking at Ilya’s lips. Ilya smirks, grabbing Shane’s ass with both hands and kisses his brains out. He pulls off with a satisfying smacking sound; they smile at each other and then head downstairs. Shane makes his breakfast smoothie, and Ilya takes a moment to clean the gym from last night’s activities before sitting at the kitchen table and opening the laptop.

Shane is about to start the blender when there’s a perfunctory knock at the door, a key rattling, and the door opening for Yuna Hollander, bright and early at 7am.

“Good morning, sweetie! Knew you’d be up already. Oh! Ilya! I thought you usually get here at 8?” Yuna asks, stopped in her tracks at the threshold of the kitchen.

“Ah--” Ilya starts with no idea how he plans on answering.

“I, uh, asked him to come earlier for days with 10am practice times,” Shane says quickly.

“Yes, exactly. I got here a few minutes before you,” Ilya recovers.

“I see! Well okay, don’t let me interrupt your work. Shane, may I speak with you in private, please?”

Ilya quickly closes the laptop and heads to the office, saying, “You stay here, I go to office, give you privacy.” He closes the office door behind him and absolutely tries to eavesdrop on whatever this is.

“What’s up, Mom?” Shane asks and Ilya can hear the confusion seeping out of his voice.

“Well, I saw that Ilya RSVP’d to the Christmas gala for you but that you wouldn’t be bringing a plus one,” Yuna states.

“Ya.”

“Well… you used to say that you never had any time for dating between Hockey and everything else. But now you have a P.A., so I guess I hoped you might use this time to look for a date, or a girlfriend maybe?”

“Jesus, mom.”

“What!? I’m not allowed to want my son to be happy?”

“Drop it, okay? I get enough of that from my team. I don’t need it from you, too,” Shane says, his voice getting louder.

“Clearly we all want what’s best for you,” she says.

“No, it seems like you all just want me to date anyone, and I’m supposed to be happy. If and when I find someone I like, I’ll date them. Until then, I have no interest being in the fucking tabloids with a new girl on my arm every weekend.”

“How can you find someone you like if you never put yourself out there!” Yuna all but yells.

“I need to start getting ready. If there’s something work related, you can talk to Ilya. Otherwise, I’m done with this conversation,” Shane says and Ilya’s dick twitches slightly in the other room at Shane’s use of his “Captain’s Voice”.

“Fine, fine,” she says, more quietly. Ilya then hears footsteps coming his way. He hurries to the desk, flips open the laptop and pretends to type an email right as the door knocks and opens. Ilya looks up, not surprised to see Yuna there.

“Listen, this is only partially work-related, but I need help convincing Shane to bring a plus-one to the Gala. See what you can do and then update the RSVP accordingly, okay?” Yuna closes the door and slips out before Ilya has a chance to answer. He stays in the office for another couple minutes until he gets a text from Shane saying the coast is clear.

He sits himself at the kitchen island this time, where he is pleased to find Shane has made him a coffee just the way he likes it (two sugars).

“First item on the to-do list,” Shane starts, “change all the fucking locks.”

Ilya is only 50% sure Shane is joking.

-

Shane is quite sore from the game last night and the follow up activities he indulged in, but he’s suited up for mandatory practice and ready to run drills. Everyone made it onto the ice and is skating with their sticks in hand, warming up their muscles.

“Sticks away!” Shane calls out and he is delighted to hear the collective groan of a team that knows they are about to do bag skates.

Twenty minutes later, the team is about ready to collapse.

“Okay, grab your sticks, you should be warmed up now, ya?”

The Metros are back in the locker room after a grueling practice and for once are actually looking forward to tape review. Everyone is chugging Gatorade like their lives depend on it, which they very well might.

They file into the tape review room one by one, Shane at the back of the line. He sees Ilya walking down a hall, peering into the locker room, before looking around and spotting him. He walks over with purpose, so Shane hangs back after the last person goes through the door.

“You’ve been invited to a New Year’s party. Apparently, the X-Squad movie is being filmed in Montreal, and the cast is throwing a big party at Club Ciel.” Shane really appreciates that Ilya just starts speaking whatever it is he needs. There’s no preamble, no small talk, just gets right to the point.

“I don’t know any of the actors… but I mean… The X-Squad… hard to turn that down, right?” Shane mulls it over out loud but quietly enough that only Ilya can hear.

“Yes. You get a plus one, as well,” Ilya states. They lock eyes for a moment, and Shane can feel his cheeks turn pink. For a brief moment, Ilya’s eyes flicker to Shane’s mouth, and then come right back before breaking eye contact and looking at the iPad.

“RSVP yes, and we’ll hold off on a plus one for now. Are P.A.’s invited to this one?” Shane asks, totally innocuously.

“It does not specify, so I would guess not.”

“Hollander!” Coach barks from inside the room.

Ilya doesn’t say anything else; he just nods goodbye at Shane and leaves. Shane slips inside the room, closes the door, turns off the light, and takes a seat.

The team’s positivity for tape review didn’t last long as both coaches berate the defense and most of the forwards for the bad gameplay. Shane’s hat trick and assist is his saving grace and he enjoys tape review immensely. By the end, they traipse back to the locker room to gather their stuff.

“Fuck, did you and Coach plan that double assault?” Hayden questions Shane.

“Swear jar,” Shane chirps. “And no, I guess we both felt the same about last night’s game.”

“On the bright side, I’ll definitely be sleeping on the plane to Winnipeg later,” Hayden grumbles.

-

[9:00pm]
Ilya, 👻P.A.:
7am - breakfast
12 - 2pm - pre-game nap
4pm - team bus to arena
7pm - game

Shane: Did you have them upgrade my room to a suite?

Ilya, 👻P.A.: Yes and no

Shane: ??

Ilya, 👻P.A.: I booked you a separate suite on your credit card to give you space from teammates after last game. Certainly not for other reasons.

Shane: You are the best P.A. ever. I take it you have the second room key?

Ilya, 👻P.A.: Already on my way.

Two minutes later, Ilya unlocks the door to the suite and enters wearing a black tank top and workout shorts. Shane is waiting for him in the “living room” section of the suite, already half-hard from anticipation. Ilya drops a bag Shane didn’t notice at first and stalks closer to Shane.

“I have been thinking all day about how I want you tonight,” Ilya purrs. He reaches Shane and doesn’t stop as he crashes his lips against Shane’s, who catches him and leans back into him. Shane could spend all night kissing Ilya, dancing with his tongue and moaning into his mouth.

“What did you decide?” Shane asks when Ilya moves from his mouth to his neck.

“Tonight, you don’t make any decisions. You do what I tell you to do. You answer my questions. If there’s something you aren’t comfortable with, you say stop and we stop,” Ilya says, looking intently into Shane’s eyes.

“That sounds… really hot,” Shane says after a moment of reflection. Maybe Ilya wants to do some kinky stuff that Shane would be too shy to ask for? This seems like a great way to experiment.

“Good. Now get on your knees.”

Shane doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t balk. He drops to his knees and looks up at Ilya. Ilya takes off his shorts leaving on his boxers.

“Put your hands behind your back and your face on my dick,” he orders. Shane’s left hand clasps his right wrist behind his back before he leans forward and nuzzles his face against the hardening cock hidden under the boxers. He lets his nose travel the length, breathes hot breath over the material, and finally kisses his cock through the boxers. He licks his tongue against the briefs between kisses, making a wet spot. Shane can feel Ilya’s cock get harder and moans, longing to get these stupid boxers out of the way.

“You look so pretty on your knees for me.”

Shane’s mouth travels down to find his balls and tries to hold one in his mouth as he looks up at Ilya through half-closed eyes. Shane’s cock is tenting in his workout shorts, and he moans in frustration at not being allowed to touch himself. His arms twitch like they have a mind of their own and he wills them back in position. Ilya must notice.

“Do you want to touch yourself?”

Shane pulls his face back just enough to say, “Yes,” before his face is back against Ilya’s dick.

“You can wait a bit longer, I think.”

Shane gives a short whine and flinches his face as if he’s in pain.

-

Ilya revels in the power dynamic. He takes off his muscle shirt then steps back, pleased to watch Shane follow him on his knees with that eager, open mouth.

“Stay,” he orders before taking another step back. Shane doesn’t move this time, but he looks back up at Ilya with pleading eyes, waiting for the next command. Ilya takes his boxers off and loves to see Shane’s eyes dart back down to watch, mouth still open. Ilya takes a step forward and Shane leans in to take Ilya’s leaking cock.

“Ah ah ah, I did not say you could touch it. You can look at it, but no touching, yet” Ilya tells him. Shane swallows the saliva that was pooling in his mouth. Ilya jerks himself at the vision of Shane on his knees, eyes clouded over with lust.

“Open your mouth.”

Shane opens his mouth, never taking his eyes off Ilya’s cock. Ilya slowly enters Shane’s mouth, letting his dick drag across his tongue before slowly pulling it back out. As soon as he touched Shane’s tongue, Shane’s eyes fluttered closed and this time when he whines, it sounds like pleasure.

“I’m going to fuck your mouth, nice and slow. If I go too deep and you need me to stop, you let go of your hands and tap my thigh. Understand?” Ilya pulls out long enough for Shane to answer.

“Yes, please,” Shane agrees and begs for more. Ilya can’t believe this is his life right now, but he gives Shane what he wants and pushes his cock back in his mouth. He puts his hands in Shane’s hair and sets a slow pace. Shane’s mouth is warm and wet; his eyes are hooded and look drunk. Ilya gently tries to go deeper with each thrust until he reaches the back of Shane’s throat, but he makes sure to come out enough that Shane can take a breath in between. Shane does gag lightly on occasion, but he never taps Ilya’s thigh, instead he swallows around Ilya’s cock.

“Good boy, Shane,” Ilya says and Shane moans.

He pulls all the way out, then says, “Stand up, take off your clothes.”

-

Shane stands so quickly he gets a head rush, and sways when he tries to take off his shirt.

“I’ve got you,” Ilya says, holding onto his waist to make sure he doesn’t fall. The head rush passes and he finishes taking off his shorts and boxers in one move, then he stands there, naked, with his hands behind his back again, waiting for the next instruction. Shane has never felt like this before. Giving up control so completely has cleared his brain the way only being on the ice does on a good day. He doesn’t need to second guess himself; he doesn’t hesitate or overthink. He doesn’t understand how giving up control can be so freeing, but that’s how he feels in this hotel suite with Ilya Rozanov.

“Go to the bedroom, lie down, and wait for me. Do not touch yourself,” Ilya tells him as he walks over to grab the lube and a condom from the bag he dropped on the floor when he entered. Shane heads to the bedroom, climbs on top of the covers and lies on his back, head on a pillow. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, Ilya only said not to touch himself, so he keeps them palms down on the bedspread.

Ilya enters and stands at the foot of the bed, taking in Shane’s form while Shane does the same to Ilya.

Ilya climbs up and finally, finally touches Shane’s aching cock with his tongue. He licks the precome that’s been dripping out and Shane involuntarily jerked his hips up at the sensitive touch.

“Hold your legs up,” he orders and Shane does so immediately. Ilya slides a pillow under Shane’s hips for a better angle, then kisses Shane’s thigh while he lubes his fingers. He teases one slick finger around Shane’s hole and slides it in slowly, letting Shane get used to the stretch. It’s still a novel sensation, but one he very much enjoys. Feeling vulnerable and trusting and intimate is a heady combination and oh my god there is his prostate.

“Fuck!” Shane says in pleasure, unsure if he’s allowed to say anything but not able to stop himself.

“You like my finger inside you?”

“Yes, fuck,” Shane moans.

“Would you like two fingers?”

“Please, please Ilya…” Shane begs.

Ilya slides a second one in with the first and Shane arches his back. The stretch is a temporary pain that feels more like a promise of future joy.

“Do you think about me when you’re at work?” Ilya asks.

“Yes,” Shane answers, a little breathless as Ilya is now pushing a third finger inside.

“What do you think about?”

“If I’m… on the ice… I look for you… in the box… want… to show off,” he says, maybe a little too honest but he has no capacity to filter his thoughts right now.

“Such a good boy. What about when you are off the ice?”

“Hoping… there’s a reason… for you to come see me… so I can see you,” Shane pants. “Think about… an empty locker room. Or the showers.”

“Such dirty thoughts, Hollander. But you get reward for telling me. And I also think about an empty locker room. This is good to know. But now, you want my dick inside you, yes?”

“God yes, please Ilya, please. I’m ready, please,” Shane says almost angrily in his lust. Ilya smiles, pulls his hand out, rolls on the condom and adds more lube.

“I am going to fuck you now, Shane. Very hard. Is your reward for being so good to me tonight,” Ilya says, a curl falling across his forehead as he speaks. Shane nods and Ilya wastes no more time. He pushes in hard and fast as promised. Shane cries out from the added stretch, but he feels too good, too full, for the cry to sound like anything other than pleasure. Ilya keeps thrusting deep and hard, helping Shane hold his legs up.

“Oh my god, holy fuck, need more, faster, please Ilya,” Shane begs.

-

He gives Shane what he wants because it’s also what he wants. He moves faster, slamming into him with a satisfying slapping sound. His release has been building, and seeing Shane come apart beneath him is accelerating the process.

“I think about you finding me in the family box. Just the two of us. I would fuck you against the wall in your own arena,” Ilya grunts out. “Would you like that?” Ilya doesn’t stop thrusting into Shane.

“Fuck yes,” Shane moans.

“Then we are dirty, so we take shower together,” Ilya continues.

“Fuck.”

“But only one shower works, so we have to stand close. Maybe our cocks brush against each other, yes?”

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck, can I come? Ilya, I need to come, baby please!” Shane gasps. Ilya almost lost it at “baby”.

“Fuck yes, Shane. Come on my dick,” Ilya growls. Shane cries out with each ribbon that jets out, coating his chest. Ilya comes on sight, slamming to the hilt and stilling while he fills the condom, he realizes he’s holding his breath and lets it out with a gravely sigh.

-

Shane is floating. He’s never felt like this before. It’s soothing, he doesn’t want to move and ruin the effect. He rides this trance-like state, happy for Ilya’s weight on him. But then the weight is gone, leaving Shane cold and untethered.

“Come back,” he mumbles. He hears a faucet running and then the bed sinks down next to him. Ilya is cleaning Shane’s chest.

“Mmmm, that feels nice,” Shane mumbles some more. His eyes are half-closed and this floaty feeling makes his a little sleepy but also so relaxed.

“Do you want me to go back to my room?” Ilya asks to Shane’s utter confusion. Leave? While Shane is floating away?

“You can’t. I’ll fly away,” he says nonsensically, reaching out for him.

“Ahhhh, wait, are you, what is word they use… do you feel, floaty?” Ilya asks him, curiously.

“That’s it. Floaty. Need you to keep me here,” Shane finally manages to grab Ilya, who willingly lets himself be pulled in. “Just for a bit, if you don’t want to stay. But you can’t leave yet, okay?”

“Okay, I stay. I set my alarm for one hour. Then I sneak back to my room, so no one knows.”

Shane smiles, his eyes already closed, and he cuddles into Ilya’s chest.

-

Ilya is quite proud of himself. This might be the first time he’s ever had someone go to subspace. He doesn’t get to indulge in his more dominant sexual tendencies often, and the few times he has, the other person wasn’t as into being a sub. They went along with it but never got lost in it the way Shane did. It feels incredible, and Ilya doesn’t know how he’s supposed to quit Shane after the week is up. He doesn’t trust or want anyone else to put Shane in this space, which he clearly enjoys. And how will Ilya find someone else who is willing to trust him so completely that they let themselves go like this?

He may not have experience putting someone in subspace, but he read about it when he was googling his own desires to see if they were normal. Aftercare is very important right now. It’s always important, in Ilya’s opinion, which is why he insists on at least cleaning his partners after. But this, Shane needs physical touch and reassurance, or he might go into a sub drop. All the wonderful happy chemicals in his brain could go from 100 to 0 too quickly, sending him into a downward spiral. Ilya needs to help his brain slowly come down from the high in a safe, measured way. And being here, holding Shane, and whispering sweet nothings into his ear should help with that.

“You were so good for me, Shane. You were perfect. So sexy, seeing you like that. I will be dreaming about this night for the rest of my life, I think. You are incredible,” he chatters softly into his hair, pressing kisses there and holding him tight. He lets one hand gently rub Shane’s back in a soothing motion. He alternates between gentle kissing and whispered praise for about fifteen minutes. It’s not even a chore; Ilya finds that he needs this too. He likes giving praise and comforting Shane. Would do it all night if he had to.

Slowly, Shane comes back to him, awareness creeping in. Shane opens his eyes more fully, and says, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Ilya says with a smile. “Welcome back. Was that, okay?”

“I don’t know what that was, but it was very okay. I don’t think I’ve ever been more okay,” Shane reassures him, then leans up for a kiss, which Ilya gladly bestows.

“Good. We can do that again anytime,” Ilya promises. He stays with Shane while they drift off until his stupid alarm goes off. He quickly shuts it off, then extricates himself from Shane’s grasp, who tries to hold on tighter while he pouts with his eyes closed.

“I need to go before morning comes and someone sees me sneaking out of your room,” Ilya says, trying to appeal to Shane’s sense of logic. Shane lets go and opens his eyes, but his pout remains. It’s so adorable, the captain of the Montreal metros has no right to be this adorable. Be that as it may, Ilya gets dressed and gathers his bag before leaning down to give Shane one more kiss.

“Goodnight, Shane,” he says in a low voice.

“Goodnight, Ilya,” Shane’s voice matching his.

Chapter End Notes

I'm having so much fun writing this fic! Thank you to everyone leaving comments and kudos!

I have twelve chapters written so far (8 - 12 still need editing and additional scenes here and there) and the story isn't close to being done.

Threads: @stephsnerdkingdom

Chapter 7: Day 4

Chapter Summary

Previously on "P.A. Wanted": Ilya gets Shane to subspace for the first time.

Today's episode: Shane is rewarded for his bravery.

Chapter Notes

Breakfast with the team at the hotel’s continental breakfast is weird. Shane arrives and sees Ilya already sitting at a small table, scrolling through the work iPad while sipping a coffee, his danish reduced to crumbs on his plate. Hayden is at a bigger table, waving him over and JJ is at the buffet loading a plate. Shane nods in acknowledgment to Hayden and heads to the buffet as well. He tries not to stare at Ilya’s golden curls, his serious work face, or those strong hands as he lifts the mug to take a sip. Definitely doesn’t watch Ilya’s lips part. Shane keeps walking and loses the angle to keep watching. He grabs yogurt, fresh fruit, granola, and a coffee before settling down at Hayden’s table, ignoring the clear desire to go and sit with Ilya.

“You look… relaxed?” Hayden asks, unsure.

“I, uh, slept well last night. My mom suggested these melatonin tablets for when I’m on the road and they really helped me fall asleep,” Shane partially lies. His mom did tell him about those tablets, but obviously he did not use them last night. Hayden looks mostly convinced, at least.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would say you got high last night and are still feeling it, Capitaine!” JJ jokes. Shane takes stock of himself. He does feel more relaxed than usual, especially for a roadie. His shoulders aren’t tensed up, he’s not clenching his jaw, his brain isn’t giving a running commentary on all the bad things that could happen today. He’s just content. He can’t remember feeling like this, ever. Interesting.

“Ha ha ha,” Shane fake laughs and Hayden snorts at the idea that Shane would do drugs, especially one that slows you down. Shane would never do anything to compromise his ability to play hockey. While he is sore, he’s used to playing with sore muscles, he should be able to play through it. Might even be hot to still feel it while on the ice… without meaning to, Shane’s eyes drift to Ilya.

Ilya happens to look up at that moment, maybe he feels Shane’s eyes lingering on him, and catches Shane staring. He gives an almost imperceptible smirk and raises his mug as a form of hello, a much safer alternative in this public venue than what Shane was thinking, which was to walk over there and sit on his lap.

“Shane?”

“Huh, what?” Shane turns his attention back to Hayden, realizing he zoned out of the conversation. “Sorry, maybe the melatonin did too good of a job and I’m still a bit tired. What did you say?”

But it was JJ who answered, “I asked if you are going to the Men’s Health gala event? I got the invite and am trying to find a plus one!”

Hayden grumbles about never being invited to fancy events.

“That’s right, you did a shoot with them in the summer right? Yeah, I RSVP’d yes, but I’m not bringing a plus one. Well, P.A.s are allowed to accompany their clients, so Ilya is coming with me. But no date.”

“What’s a P.A. supposed to do at a gala like this?” JJ asks, not in a condescending way. He actually sounds curious.

“They get a book with a list of pictures and names he can memorize so I don’t look like an idiot trying to remember who everyone is,” Shane replies.

“Ahh makes sense for you. I never forget a face or a name!” JJ boasts. “But back to me, when we get back to Montreal we all have to go out so I can find a date.”

-

It’s Ilya’s turn to pick a location. They already had amazing sex in Shane’s suite. Ilya’s room is nothing special, so he’ll call that plan B. They both mentioned having sex in an arena locker room, but this idea is too risky, right?

When the team arrives at the arena, the guys head to the locker room and Ilya is shown to an empty office space he can use to work. He’s given a pass that gives him access to the entire arena, save for private boxes. The office is too boring and doesn’t have a lock. Ilya takes a walk after answering some emails, scoping out the place. Plenty of equipment rooms, janitor closets, classrooms, and of course the home and visitor locker rooms are here on the bottom floor. Nothing sticks out as a good place for a sneaky fuck, but he remembers Shane saying he likes when Ilya comes to see him during the day with work stuff. He heads into the empty locker room, checks the showers, then comes back out to the hallway and hears murmuring behind a door. Ah, tape review, of course. Ilya can’t interrupt that, right?

Before he can decide, he hears chairs scraping and voices getting louder. He takes a step back from the door just in time as it swings open. Ilya leans against the wall, waiting for Shane. Shane is the last player to leave and his face changes from serious frown to happy smiling in the space of a heartbeat when he sees Ilya. Ilya’s heart doesn’t flip at this, of course. Probably just indigestion.

“Hi,” Shane says, the smile transforming into one of desire as he realizes Ilya is doing what he asked.

“Hi. You received an interesting email,” Ilya says as his teammates all file into the locker room. Soon it’s just the two of them in the hallway, the coaches stay behind in the tape review room.

“Let’s walk to the cafe and you can tell me about this interesting email. I need coffee after that tape review.” Ilya smiles and pushes off from the wall, walking next to Shane.

“Remember how you said no to plus one for gala? I think your mother has been emailing people…” Ilya starts gently.

“Oh no. No no no. Do I want to hear this?”

“I said you got an interesting email. That is lie. You got five interesting emails,” Ilya teases him and Shane groans.

“At least wait until I have a sip of coffee before you embarrass me,” Shane complains.

“Is not me! Only messenger,” Ilya says, raising his arms innocently.

They get their coffees and head to the arena, sitting in seats in the 100-level section. The lights aren’t all on yet, but the Zamboni is prepping the ice.

“Okay, email one is from French Figure Skater Sylvie DuCharme. Here is picture,” Ilya turns the iPad screen to show off a professional photo of the figure skater on the ice in a pose where she’s holding one skate above her head, doing the splits.

“No.”

“Second one is a model. Eva L. I don’t know how to pronounce last name,” Ilya frowns at the screen, holding back an insult to Scandinavian names.

“Pretty?” Shane asks, unsure. “It doesn’t matter, it’s all going to be no, Ilya. I’ve never… I’m not…” Shane struggles to finish the sentence.

“I know, Shane. Is okay,” Ilya says quietly, and he means it. Really prefers it this way, to be honest. He doesn’t have to be jealous of women throwing themselves at Shane. Not that he has the right to be jealous, of course.

“I’ve never said it out loud,” Shane says, looking down at his coffee, his thumb flipping the sipping tab open and closed.

“Do you want to? Maybe practice here. Before you tell your mother?” Ilya offers, holding back his hand from touching Shane. Shane takes a shaky breath.

“Fuck,” is all Shane manages.

“Does not need to be right now. I will politely decline the requests,” Ilya says, giving Shane an out if he’s not ready to say it yet.

“Yeah. Okay. But, my mom will ask me, so just tell me who the others are. I don’t need to see pictures.”

“An American model, a Canadian PWHL player, and one of the photographers from a shoot you did in the past who you apparently had great chemistry with,” Ilya reads off the email.

Shane’s mood breaks open at that and he laughs.

“Although, maybe it would be nice to meet the PWHL player, not as a date, of course. Just a female friend to talk hockey with, like you have with Svetlana,” Shane ponders out loud.

“I can arrange this, but you can also talk to Svetlana if you want. I can give you her number.”

“You can share it with me; she definitely knew her hockey. But she’s your friend, I kind of want my own Svetlana who isn’t Jackie. She’s great but too close to Hayden… I’m just now realizing how pathetic I sound. Asking you to help find me a friend. Jesus Christ. Forget everything,” Shane says, blushing from embarrassment as he stands up to leave.

Ilya stands quickly and reaches out a hand before he can stop it, landing on Shane’s bicep.

“Hey. You forget I am personal assistant. I help with more than just work stuff. Vetrov complained all the time about how hard it is to make real friends when you’re famous. Everyone wants to know him, but no one wants to put in the work to be friends with him, you know?” Ilya pushes, hoping he’s getting through to the other man. Shane does pause, scratch at the back of his neck while he thinks, and starts walking more slowly, inviting Ilya to walk beside him back into the hallway.

“Yeah, I think I get it. Okay,” Shane says. Ilya thinks he’s still sad, based on how he’s looking down at the ground.

They walk in silence for a couple minutes heading towards the locker room. Fans will start arriving soon and Shane will need to make a motivational speech for his team. Before they make it to the locker room, though, Ilya suddenly pulls Shane into a janitor’s closet, locks the door and turns on the light. He shoves Shane against the door and kisses him roughly.

“You must be quiet for me, think you can do this?” Ilya whispers into Shane’s ear. Shane nods and finds his lips again, hungry for more, for anything, for everything.

Shane doesn’t think about the teammates a couple doors down or the cleaning staff who might need this room. His head is filled with Ilya Ilya Ilya. Ilya drops to his knees and pulls Shane’s shorts down as he goes. Ilya has the pleasure of taking Shane’s cock from mostly soft to rock hard in less than thirty seconds, the feeling of it engulfing in his mouth makes him a little crazy. He wants to moan, he wants to tell Shane he’s being so good right now, but he has to be quiet. Shane is, in fact, being good right now. He’s being so quiet Ilya would be worried that Shane isn’t enjoying himself, if it wasn’t for his hands fisting his curls, that is. His hips also move ever so slightly, unconsciously chasing the friction. Ilya takes Shane all the way in, swallows around him, and moves fast.

-

Shane is mouthing oh my god, oh fuck yes, fuck while one hand stays in Ilya’s hair while the other holds on to a nearby shelf for support. Ilya’s talented mouth makes him feel so good, and the tongue moves when he least expects it which is driving him crazy. He can feel the heat in his cheeks and his spine, waiting for the final release.

Footsteps can be heard outside the door, but they walk past. Shane is so close. So so close.

Another set of footsteps, this time they stop at the door and try to turn the handle, realizing it’s locked. They can hear a muffled, “son of a bitch,” and the footsteps recede. Or they would hear that except Shane is coming in Ilya’s mouth as soon as the door handle rattled. The adrenaline of almost getting caught set Shane off and he bent forward, both hands back in Ilya’s hair, spasming as he came hard.

Shane wastes no time, he pulls Ilya up who’s wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, smiling proudly, and Shane drops to his knees. He’s already working on Ilya’s pants when Ilya’s hands try to stop him.

“Please,” Shane begs barely above a whisper, “let me make you feel good, too, it will be so fast, I promise, please.”

“Fuck,” Ilya whispers back and he helps Shane release his cock which slides right into Shane’s mouth. Shane mimics what Ilya was doing to him, as much as he can. He keeps getting better at taking more of Ilya and he’s starting to control the gag reflex, but then he stills, looks up at Ilya, and uses his hands to move Ilya’s hips in and out, then he drops his hands, still starting at Ilya.

-

“Fuck, Shane,” he whispers, breaking his own rule. Ilya holds Shane’s head in place and uses his mouth to get himself off. Even if he’s careful about not going too deep, the entire thing is way too hot and the knowledge that someone is looking for a key to get in here makes the risk even more arousing. Ilya lasts thirty seconds before he’s coming down Shane’s throat. Shane swallows it all, eyes closed as if he’s savoring the taste. When he’s all cleaned up, Ilya tucks himself back into his pants and Shane stands up. They kiss deeply for only a moment, knowing their time is running out.

Regretfully, they pull apart, and Ilya keeps Shane behind the door while he turns off the light, unlocks and opens the door, and tentatively steps into the hallway. The universe is on their side and Ilya whispers for Shane to come out now. He closes the door and they keep walking towards the locker room as if no detour occurred.

-

Shane has a great game that Ilya watches from his hotel room. Shane is on fire, and it feels like there’s a spotlight on him every time he’s on the ice. Ilya knows there isn’t, but he pulls focus with his graceful movements compared to everyone else’s brutish stomps. You’d think someone who’s so light on his skates couldn’t hit hard, but he just checked O’Connell into the boards so rough the plexiglass rattled and O’Connell went down. He cleanly steals the puck and skates away.

Ilya wonders if he’ll see him after the game considering they already fooled around earlier. There’s no rule against it… and he really hopes so because watching Shane play is getting Ilya hard. Maybe Shane will be too tired or feel pressured to go out with his team? What’s the nightlife like in Winnipeg, he wonders. Instead of waiting for Shane, maybe he should go out dancing… he likes to dance. They never said anything about only having sex with each other for this week. But, if he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t want to have sex with anyone else right now. Shane is all-consuming. It’s like he was made in a factory to Ilya’s exact specifications. Who else can compete with that?

9:00pm
Ilya:
7am - team bus to airport
9:30am - flight departs
2pm to 4pm - Children’s Hospital Team Visit

Ilya doesn’t text anything else. He’ll let Shane decide whether he wants to see him again tonight. The game ends and Montreal wins 5 - 3, with Shane getting two goals and assisting on the others. That should make Shane happy, but Ilya knows Shane will be focused on the three goals against. Maybe he’ll take out his frustrations on Ilya? He keeps the TV on for the post-game interview.

Reporter #1: You looked amazing out there today. You’ve been on a tear lately and are leagues ahead of the next contender in the scoring race. To what do you owe your recent success?

Shane: The Metros practice hard and study hard. We try to play a smart game, and we take as many shots as possible. I have a team supporting me on the ice, so my points total reflects all of us, not just me.

Reporter #2: Hollander, there’s rumours going around that you are seeing someone. Care to elaborate?

Shane: Where are these rumours? [He looks amused unless you know him well. Ilya can see the annoyance underneath.]

Reporter #2: I can’t reveal my sources, Hollander! So, it’s true?

Shane: It’s not a rumour “going around” then. You’re making it a rumour right now. [He scoffs.] No comment.

Reporter #3: What do you look for in a partner, Shane?

Shane: If there are no other hockey questions, I wish you all a goodnight. [He turns and leaves while reporters try to ask a mix of personal and hockey questions.]

Ilya can’t remember Shane ever leaving a media scrum like that before. Yuna will be furious with him, but Ilya thinks he made the right decision. He can’t help himself; he texts Shane again.

Ilya: good for you

-

Two hours later there’s a knock at his door. Ilya was certainly not falling asleep on top of his covers while watching a documentary about the solar system and he jumps up and opens the door without looking through the peephole. Shane is standing there in pyjamas, looking showered and tired and wary. Ilya steps back inviting Shane to cross the threshold.

“Hi,” Shane says.

“Hi. I was not sure I would see you tonight. I am glad you came,” Ilya adds that last bit, knowing Shane will probably misunderstand and assume some subtext that means he didn’t want to see him. Shane’s brain loves to trick him, Ilya knows.

“I wasn’t sure I was going to come either. But then I realized something and I didn’t want to be alone. Can I stay the night?” Shane asks, a little sadly.

“Of course. Tell me, what did you realize?” Ilya asks, completely clueless as to where this conversation is going. Shane gets on the bed and under the covers, sitting with his back against the headboard. Ilya follows suit, not sure if he’s allowed to cuddle or touch him.

“The reporter from earlier. You watched, right? That’s why you said, ‘good for you’?”

Ilya nods.

“They said they had a source. Rumours about me seeing someone. I don’t have friends who aren’t players, remember. That means someone on my team sold me out to the press. Hayden and JJ would never. It’s gotta be Comeau. He’s one of the ones that took it too far and then played like shit that both coach and I singled him out for it. He’s trying to get revenge by starting rumours. I really can’t have people looking into my personal life. Especially not now that I’m -” Shane suddenly stops.

“Not now you’re what?” Ilya prods, gently.

“I’m… fuck, this should be easy. I’m literally in bed with the man that I’ve slept with,” Shane bites his bottom lip, frustrated and scared.

“I am bisexual,” Ilya says matter-of-factly, hoping he can make Shane feel more comfortable.

“I am… gay?” He says it like a question instead of a statement. Ilya gives him a gentle kiss as a reward.

“That’s a very good start. Can you say it with more confidence?”

“I’m… gay,” he says, and while it may still be lacking confidence, it was not a question anymore.

“Yes. Much better. Now, would you like reward for being brave and to forget about asshole teammates?”

“Fuck, yes please,” Shane says, all but falling into Ilya as he crashes their lips together.

-

After, they are lying face-to-face when Ilya asks how much Shane enjoyed the blow jobs they traded at the arena.

“It was so fucking hot, are you kidding me? The rush of potentially getting caught somehow amplified everything. I know how much I’d lose if I was outed like that, but somehow the risk makes it feel ten times better,” Shane says while one hand pets Ilya’s bicep.

“Yes, the rush makes it more intense,” Ilya decides not to share about what he’d lose if he was found out as queer. It doesn’t make good pillow conversation. Instead, he asks, “Is there anywhere else in public you have been thinking about?”

Shane blushes so Ilya knows this will be good and smiles in anticipation.

“Okay, so… I never got to do the usual high school things. Like, sex in a car, or at the back of the movie theatre…” Shane trails off, looking at Ilya with hope and sadness in his eyes. Even if Ilya wanted to refuse him (which he very much does not), how could he when Shane brings out those big brown eyes?

“I never got to do these things with a man. So, would be a first for me, too. We will do this.”

“Really?” Shane says, smiling softly. “Okay, when?”

“Seriously Hollander? You are making your P.A. work on your schedule at 12:30am?” Ilya says with mock offence, pushing him away. Shane giggles and wrestles with him. They are both laughing quietly, trying to get the other on their back first for at least three seconds. Ilya doesn’t even know how he knows the rules to this made-up game, he just does. As does Shane. In the end, Ilya tangles their legs together and flips them both so Ilya is on top and he kisses Shane to distract him for three seconds. Shane lets himself be distracted and Ilya declares himself the winner.

“Cheater! That kiss was interference. 2-minute penalty.”

“Wow, I cannot believe Captain of Montreal Metros is a sore loser!”

They are both smiling like idiots, and their hold softens as Ilya kisses Shane again.

“Okay, tomorrow night after children’s hospital visit. I will find us a movie to see at theatre.” This earns him another kiss, and he rolls off Shane making them face-to-face again.

“Alarm is set for 5:30am,” Ilya says after yawning. Shane catches the yawn and nods in acknowledgement.

“Goodnight, Ilya.”

“Goodnight, Shane.”

Chapter End Notes

<3

Chapter 8: Day 5

Chapter Summary

Previously on "P.A. Wanted": Day 4 of their one week arrangement sees Shane finally voicing his sexuality.

In today's episode: Day 5 - The movie theatre!

Chapter Notes

Shane wonders if it makes him a bad person that he’d prefer to volunteer at an animal shelter than at the children’s hospital. He loves Hayden’s kids and knows how to interact with them because he’s been around them since they were born. But other people’s kids? Shane feels like he has no firm ground to stand on. And sick kids? He has even less frame of reference. He just hopes the wing is filled with chatty kids. If they do all the talking, he can just stand there and smile.

“Why do you look like you are getting ready for battle?” Ilya asks while they single file off the team bus.

“I’m even more awkward around kids than I am with adults. This stuff is hard for me,” Shane admits, looking over his shoulder at Ilya.

“Hollanderrrr how many times do I need to tell you to share your problems with me. Is my job to fix them. You are awkward around kids? I am not. I will do the talking and introduce you. You stand there looking like celebrity and sign pictures,” Ilya says, solving Shane’s problem in an instant.

“Oh.”

“Yes, “Oh”. Now you will tell me about the next problem before you spiral, yes?” Ilya says, exasperated but also maybe a little fond.

“Yes,” Shane replies with a soft smile.

All Metros players without any visible injuries that could scare the children meet the hospital coordinator by the main entrance where she gives them Visitor passes to wear around their necks before leading them inside to the first wing.

Hayden is a natural, of course. He chats with the kids, asks all the right questions, and the kids are always smiling. JJ fairs well, too. He’s a tall goofball and leans more into physical comedy, which is always a hit with the kids. Some of the others do well, usually ones with kids at home. There are some fun uncles in the mix as well. A handful of players are very awkward, and Shane is usually in that boat. But today…

“Do you know this guy?” Ilya asks Dylan, a boy wearing a cannula, pointing towards Shane, who’s talking to the kid’s father.

“That’s Shane Hollander!” The boy, who’s somewhere between 8 and 12 (Shane is really bad at guessing ages), says enthusiastically.

“Ah, so you know him!?” Ilya acts as if shocked.

“He’s the best player in the league!” The kid announces to the fake-confused Ilya.

“Want to know a secret about him?” Ilya stage whispers. Shane and the dad (name already forgotten) watch the exchange with bemused expressions.

“Yeah!”

“He is only the best player in the league because I quit hockey when I was twelve. If I kept playing, Hollander would be second best,” Ilya says with all the arrogance in the world. The kid laughs, shakes his head and says, “No way!”

Like reading a play on the ice, Shane sees his opening.

“Thanks for having my back, Dylan!”

Dylan looks awestruck that Shane has spoken to him directly. Ilya whispers “suck up” to the boy, who giggles.

“Do you want a selfie or an autograph with best player in the league?”

Dylan nods and adds, “Yes please!”

Shane gestures for the father to join as well and Ilya takes a photo of the three of them. Shane also signs a player card from his rookie season for the dad. They leave the interaction with both father and son smiling and head to the next bed.

Ilya concocts similar but unique interactions with each kid and Shane discovers a few things.

One, Ilya was not lying when he said he was good with kids. Two, apparently Shane finds this quality very attractive. Three, this has been the easiest and most fun hospital visit he’s done in his entire career. Four, he might consider having a kid of his own one day if he had someone like Ilya to do it with. That last discovery is a little scary and intense, so he bottles that one up for now.

At 4pm, the hospital coordinator thanks them for the visit, takes their passes, and escorts them out. The team is filing back on the bus when Comeau bumps Shane’s shoulder as he passes him.

“Hey Hollywood, too famous to talk to the kids yourself, eh?”

Shane is flooded with frustration and anger at the lack of respect towards him as their captain, as well as shame that he needed the help to get through the day.

“Shut the fuck up, Comeau. You can chirp the Captain when your Plus/Minus isn’t negative 10,” Hayden says brusquely and JJ laughs loudly. Comeau looks like he’s about to punch Hayden for that comment.

“Gil!” Shane warns before Comeau can do anything. “Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it.”

Comeau restrains himself from acts of violence, huffs and mumbles something under his breath, then hurries ahead, skipping the line to get on the bus.

Shane lets out a long breath of relief, thanks Hayden for having his back, and notices Ilya looking like he will murder Comeau in his sleep.

-

Ilya is still seething an hour later. He’s glad Pike said something to defend Shane, he’s angry he couldn’t be the one to do it (he knows it would have made things ten times worse if he did), and he’s furious that Shane needed to be defended in the first place. From a fucking defenseman no less. The irony. Comeau will get what’s coming to him, somehow, Ilya vows.

“Oh, did I tell you about the new rule I came up with?” Shane asks, interrupting Ilya’s spiral as they park at the movie theatre.

“Is new sex rule?” Ilya lets himself be distracted.

“No. Yes? Maybe. Anyway, if we need to talk about work stuff, you’re Rozanov and I’m Hollander. If we’re talking about personal stuff, you’re Ilya and I’m Shane.”

“So I cannot call you Hollander when you are on your knees for me?” Ilya asks with a smirk, relishing Shane’s blush.

“Maybe this is more of a daytime rule,” Shane says and Ilya barks out a laugh.

“Okay. Is a good rule,” Ilya concedes. Sometimes they do blur the lines between work and play so it would be good, especially for Shane, to have some clarity.

“What movie are we going to see?” Shane asks.

“Is called Arrival. Been out for over a month and most people will be seeing new Star Wars movie. Figure this one should not have too many people,” Ilya explains. He spent probably too much time choosing the right movie for this experiment. If he chose a popular movie, there would be people too close to them to do anything. But he couldn’t choose one that had absolutely no one, that would defeat the purpose. He had to find the right balance.

“Oh, I’ve heard of that one, it actually looks good!” Shane says and Ilya rolls his eyes. Of course, his Shane would like boring movie about aliens. Well, not HIS Shane, obviously, they are just fucking for one week. Right…

They head into the movie theatre and thus far Shane doesn’t think he’s been recognized. It’s mid-week and Shane is not wearing any Metros merch. Their tickets are scanned and they head to cinema four where there are maybe twenty other people in seats around the theatre. Shane is happy to note that no one else is in the back row. They take the middle seats just below the projector and Ilya drops his coat off before promising popcorn and heading back into the main hall. Shane adjusts his baseball hat and looks down at his phone to further block his face from any movie-goers. The lights dim and the trailers start when Ilya finally gets back with a large popcorn, a coke, and a ginger ale.

Shane is suddenly nervous. When does the fooling around start? He takes a sip of ginger ale to try and calm down. Ilya looks cool as a cucumber, as always. Eating popcorn and watching the screen in rapt attention.

“I feel bad for women that this is the quality of smut for them,” Ilya quietly disparages the 50 Shades Darker trailer.

“What do you mean?” Shane whispers.

“Is supposed to be about Dom/sub dynamic, but man is just asshole using it as excuse to be an asshole. Dynamic is all wrong.”

“How do you know so much?”

“Ah… I did research a while ago… About if I might be a Dom. Then I read these terrible books thinking it would give me ideas of what women would want. That is not the kind of Dom I would be.”

“There are different ways? All I’m picturing are whips and chains…” Shane admits.

“Da, some people like that. Pain and pleasure. But no, I never want to cause pain. I like to tell my partners what a good job they are doing, yes?” Ilya whispers into Shane’s ear as his hand slides on top of Shane’s thigh. Shane nods, leaning his head towards him. The next trailer starts but Shane misses it completely.

“I like making sure my partner feels safe,” he continues, his hand drifting between Shane’s legs and sliding higher.

“I want them to do what I tell them but for them to know it’s always to make them feel good,” he says, still in Shane’s ear, and then Shane’s earlobe is in Ilya’s mouth as his hand reaches Shane’s crotch. Shane feels like he’s in a bubble of vibrating bliss. The combination of whispering, mouth, and hand loosens Shane up, turning him into putty. Shane forgets there are other people in the room. The lights go down and the movie starts, but all Shane’s senses are tuned to Ilya.

“You must not make a sound, hm? Keep that pretty mouth shut or I have to stop. You don’t want that, no?” He whispers into his ear, making Shane shiver. He shakes his head, moving his hips into the heel of Ilya’s palm.

“Good boy. You can be good even when you are naughty, having sex in public like a teenager,” Ilya speaks so low it’s barely a whisper. Shane tries to turn his head to kiss him, but Ilya’s other hand stops him, holding his jaw.

“You sit still and let me make you feel good. Watch movie,” he lets go of Shane’s jaw and trails kisses down his neck. His hand unbuttons Shane’s pants, and his hard cock spurts a bit of precome, wetting his boxers in anticipation. Shane feels like a thousand degrees but also like he doesn’t want the source of heat to go away. It’s not burning so much as life-giving. Ilya frees him from his boxers and uses the wetness as lubrication while he slowly jerks him off. Shane is so hard, Ilya’s mouth is still on his neck, and he tries to focus on the movie like Ilya said. He fails miserably. He looks around at the audience and everyone else is watching the screen and eating their popcorn. They don’t know he’s fighting for his life back here trying to hold in all the sounds he wants to, needs to, make.

Ilya quietly releases Shane’s neck and, after a surreptitious glance around the room, goes down on Shane. His mouth, god his mouth is so good. He feels the warm wet cave and can’t look away from the sight of Ilya’s head bouncing up and down fast. It feels like his head is about to explode from pleasure with how deep Ilya can go and how tight he can make it for Shane. He won’t last long, he knows. It’s too much, it’s too fucking hot. Anyone could look over and see. All he has to do is make the slightest noise and everyone would know.

He’s coming down Ilya’s mouth, convulsing over him, putting his mouth against the back of Ilya’s head to help muffle any sounds that might come out. Ilya licks him clean and Shane is twitching from the stimulation. They both sit back up, Ilya puts Shane back into his pants, and he leans back over to Shane’s ear.

“You did so good. So quiet just like I asked and you came so beautifully,” Ilya murmurs. Shane’s eyes are hooded as he basks in the afterglow, turning his head hoping for a kiss this time. He’s rewarded for being good with a sweet and quiet kiss. Shane’s hand moves to Ilya’s thigh to return the favour and Ilya unzips his pants. Unfortunately, the zipper is loud and happens at the same time as a quiet moment in the movie, so a few heads turn around looking for the source. They freeze and pretend to be watching the movie; Ilya shoves a handful of popcorn in his mouth for good measure. The movie eventually pulls focus again and Shane and Ilya let out the breath they were holding. They make eye contact, which is a mistake because it sets them off into silent giggling. It’s the kind of contagious laughter that once you stop laughing, all you have to do is look at your friend and you start again. They both have tears in their eyes and cramps from the silent laughter. They settle down eventually, and Ilya takes Shane’s right hand in his and holds it, intertwining their fingers.

This is new, Shane thinks. He might not know what it means, but he knows he likes it and doesn’t want it to stop. Ilya’s thumb brushes over Shane’s in a soothing manner. They try to watch the movie for a bit but Shane is totally lost. After about fifteen minutes, Ilya uses his right hand to lazily stroke his own cock, getting it hard again. He licks his palm for some lubrication and keeps going. Shane is transfixed, wanting nothing more than to help. Ilya keeps his hand in a tight grip, though. He speeds up.

“Please…” Shane begs into his ear. Ilya finally allows it. He moves their hands to his mouth, getting them both thoroughly wet with spit, then replaces his right hand with Shane’s right, putting it near the tip. Ilya’s left hand goes around his base and he starts pumping. Shane follows the rhythm, squeezing and occasionally running his thumb over the slit to spread the precome.

“I want you to come in my mouth,” Shane whispers, dying to get his dick in his mouth. Based on the faces Ilya is making with the pursed lips and contracted eyebrows, he’s really close. Ilya pushes Shane’s head down and let’s go of his cock to let Shane handle the rest. Shane sinks his mouth around Ilya’s beautiful dick, moving his hand down to the base and still jerking him off while his mouth sucks on the tip. Sure enough, a few moments later Ilya is exploding in Shane’s mouth with a quiet grunt. He eagerly swallows everything Ilya gives him.

Shane tucks him back in his boxers and waits for a loud moment in the movie to zip him back up. Ilya leans back with a satisfied smile on his face. Shane looks around, everyone has their eyes on the movie, and then he leans over to Ilya to kiss him. They both sink down, lowering themselves in the seats, and make out like a couple of teenagers, the taste of their orgasms lingering on their tongues. When their lips are red and raw, they take a break to eat popcorn and drink their pop.

The movie finally ends and Shane knows he will watch it at home eventually. It did seem like a good movie but it is definitely one where you have to pay attention to enjoy it. Shane and Ilya exit the theatre, the backs of their hands brushing against each other.

-

Ilya thinks it’s his turn to pick a location. Last night Shane came to Ilya’s room, so that was his choice. They both agreed on the movie theatre together… so it should be Ilya’s turn. And he knows exactly where he wants to go.

“Was it everything you imagined?” Ilya asks in the car.

“It was very hot. But maybe it’s like a one-time thing? Crossed it off the bucket list. Like, if the choice is between getting fucked while I workout or getting a blowjob at the theatre, I’ll still take the gym. I’m really glad I got to experience it, though,” Shane reassures him.

“Me too. Is fun, but next time we see a movie at theatre maybe we just watch movie. Unless it is boring. Then we fuck,” Ilya declares and Shane chuckles out an agreement.

“So where do you live?” Shane asks as he opens up the navigation app. Ilya is a little disappointed, he was hoping to sleep with Shane again. But he shouldn’t be too greedy, he’s lucky enough he gets a week (of which there are only two full days left) to get him out of his system. Ilya types his address into the search bar and Shane puts the vehicle in Drive.

“Okay, your schedule for tomorrow. Men’s Health Interview at 11am, and that’s it. Wednesday is a full day practice and then you play Boston, greatest team in the league, on Thursday.”

“You wish! Montreal is ahead of Boston in the rankings right now. Even New York is ahead!” Shane chirps.

“Do not remind me. Is embarrassing that dinosaur Scott Hunter is beating my beloved Raiders,” Ilya says with exaggerated self-pity.

“Is the gala thing on Friday or Saturday? And did you get a tux yet?”

“Friday. Not yet. Probably go on Wednesday while you are at practice.”

“Cool,” Shane says with a smile.

Shane finds street parking in front of Ilya’s apartment complex and exits the car with Ilya. Ilya’s chest blooms with hope. Is Shane going to…?

“My turn to choose the location, right? I choose your bed,” Shane says with a shrug, maybe going for nonchalance but looking shy instead. Ilya cocks his head in a “follow me” gesture and once they are in the elevator, Ilya says, “Is technically my turn to choose location. But is okay, I let you have this one.”

“What! No way. I came to your hotel room. Then you chose movie theatre. So now it’s my turn!” Shane says indignantly.

“Ah, no, the movie theatre was mutual idea. Does not count. So is my turn. Lucky for you I choose my bedroom,” Ilya winks at him.

“It absolutely counts!”

They bicker playfully until Ilya’s front door closes. Shane doesn’t get a chance to look around before Ilya has him pressed against the door, full body pressing into him and kissing like a drowning man coming up for air. Shane’s hands fly to his hair and thread through his curls. Ilya pulls Shane through the apartment, barely letting their lips part unless it’s to throw clothing on the floor. Ilya flips the light on and dims it before pushing Shane onto the bed.

“Okay. It was your turn to pick location. That means I pick position, yes?” He looks down at Shane with a predatory glare.

“How do you want me?” Shane asks in a soft, slow voice.

“On all fours,” he says, knowing exactly what he wants to do now that they are here. Shane tosses off his boxers and turns around, getting on his hands and knees. Ilya also discards his briefs and, after grabbing the lube and condom, climbs on the bed. He rubs Shane’s back and ass for a moment then pushes down between Shane’s shoulder blades. Shane goes down to his forearms.

-

Shane feels Ilya’s hands spread his cheeks and can feel his face turn red being on such vulnerable display like this. And then, oh my fucking god Ilya’s tongue is licking his hole. His tongue alternates between swirling around the entrance and long wet licks from front to back.

“Fuck, Ilya, that’s insane, feels so good,” Shane moans. Ilya moans back in response. Shane then feels Ilya’s tongue breaching the entrance and his throat makes a sound he would disavow in the morning. Ilya fucks him with his tongue, loosening him up, and spit is dripping down the crease. Shane is lost in the novel sensation and his own moans, meaning he wasn’t prepared for a finger to join Ilya’s tongue. He lets out a guttural, “Mmmph!”

“Fuck yeah, fuck,” Shane cries when the second finger is added. His own cock is rock hard, and Shane gives himself a couple strokes for relief.

When Ilya decides Shane is loose enough, he deftly puts on the condom and lubes it up. He aims his cock and pushes in slowly, giving Shane time to adjust to every inch. At this point he’s reduced to noises; words are lost to him. When Ilya is fully inserted, he leans over and kisses Shane between the shoulder blades. He moves in and out, in and out, in and out, breathing out loud. Shane feels the wonderful pressure and from this angle it’s like he can feel it from his belly if he pushed down on it. He doesn’t know if sex is always supposed to make you feel so connected, but he can’t fathom letting just anyone take him like this. He trusts Ilya completely and doesn’t want anyone else. This is theirs. He feels like Ilya was made in a factory to fill Shane so perfectly. Shane is overwhelmed at these feelings he can’t name yet, so he drowns them in sensory overload by meeting Ilya with each thrust. They are both grunting in unison at the impact.

Ilya suddenly pulls out and Shane’s hips try to chase him back in. He flips Shane over to his back and puts his ankles on Ilya’s shoulders. Shane uses the leverage to lift his ass in the air and Ilya slots himself back in where he belongs. His prostate has been on fire and this new angle fans the flames further. Shane knows he won’t last much longer. Ilya’s thrusts are starting to lose its rhythm and his eyes dart from one eye to the other.

“You feel so fucking good Shane. So beautiful. Just for me,” Ilya growls. Just for you, Shane agrees in his mind. He tries to nod and hopes that his eyes are at least conveying that the feeling is mutual.

“Are you…?” Ilya can’t finish the sentence.

“Close!” Shane manages the one word using all his remaining faculties.

“Now, baby,” Ilya tells him and Shane couldn’t stop it if he tried. His come paints his chest and his vision whites out for a second. When he can focus on Ilya again, he’s rewarded with the view of his face in pure bliss, filling the condom, and Shane has the crazy thought that he wants to do it without a condom so he can feel Ilya’s come dripping out. Ilya stills one last time, let’s go of Shane’s legs, takes care of the condom and finally collapses on top of Shane with no qualms about the come on his chest. Shane’s arms wrap around him, and he trails his fingertips gently along the sensitive skin. Ilya shudders and mumbles, “Feels nice.”

The post-orgasm high is a great feeling when Ilya stays connected to him like this. He wonders if everyone gets clingy after sex or if it’s just him. He should ask, once he finds his voice again. He closes his eyes and focuses on Ilya’s breathing and his heartbeat. When his heart rate is back in the normal range, Ilya rolls off Shane and off the bed, padding to the washroom and coming back with a warm damp cloth. Shane loves this part, too. Loves the feeling of Ilya taking care of him and he likes that Ilya likes doing it, too. He can tell it’s not a chore for him. He throws the towel into the hamper and lies back down on the bed.

This is a first, for Shane. They’ve always had sex at his place, and Shane always asked him to stay. Should Shane offer to leave? Is that what’s expected? The thought of not falling asleep in Ilya’s arms is like a lead weight in his stomach.

“Will you stay?” Ilya asks, nuzzling in close to his temple and relief floods Shane’s system. He turns his head to meet Ilya and says yes. Ilya’s answering smile is contagious, and they meet in the middle for a kiss.

Chapter End Notes

I'm out of town this weekend starting Friday so there's a chance I won't be able to upload Chapter 9 until Monday.

Only 2 "Days" left!

<3

Chapter 9: Day 6

Chapter Summary

Previously on "P.A. Wanted": They boys go to the movie theatre and then Ilya's place.

On today's episode: Ilya gets to choose two locations!

Chapter Notes

“What’s the interview about, anyway? I feel like I should have prepared something…” Shane worries while they drive back to his apartment the next morning.

“Lightning Round Questions, you need to give first answer you think about. But don’t worry, I reviewed all the questions to approve them. The themes are diet, exercise, and hockey. You can talk about all these in your sleep. You will be fine, I promise,” Ilya reassures him and Shane’s anxiety relaxes at his confident and calm voice. With this worry leaving his brain, he finds himself thinking about other things.

“Ilya.”

“Shane,” he responds with an understanding smile.

“What location are you choosing today?” Shane asks with his own smile, blush painting his cheeks.

“This is my last day of choosing, tomorrow is the end of the week we gave ourselves, so I must choose wisely. I am torn between two.” Ilya speaks neutrally but Shane thinks there’s at least a hint of sadness at the thought of the end. Unless he’s projecting his own feelings?

Shane’s body temperature drops a few degrees at the realization that their week is almost over. He doesn’t want it to end. But they said they’d talk about it after the week, so maybe… maybe they can find a way to keep doing this? Or more? Shane puts those thoughts away for now.

“I also had a couple on my list, so let’s do both of yours today, and both of mine tomorrow?” Shane offers.

Ilya’s neutral expression shifts into a small smile as he agrees.

-

“Shane! Welcome to Lightning Round. I will ask you twenty spitfire questions, and you answer as quick as possible. We’ll do some promo shots after. Ready?” The writer has a tape recorder on to capture his answers.

Shane fields questions like his typical pre-game meal, how long he spends on cardio, and if he ever tried to be a goalie. Ilya was right, they were all easy lighthearted questions. Speaking of, Ilya is at the back of the room behind the writer and starts putting his stuff away and getting up, which means the interview is almost over.

“One last question! Who is your celebrity crush?”

Shane scrunches his face up at this question that feels like it’s out of left field. He doesn’t even know what to answer but is saved by Ilya who strides over and turns off the recording.

“No. Was not on list of approved questions.”

“Maybe there was a misunderstanding. That’s okay, I have what I need for the article. Thank you so much for your time, Shane. Eric will escort you to hair and makeup to prep for the pictures,” the writer tries to save face and reaches out for a handshake, which Shane graciously returns.

-

Shane is wearing all black tight fitting workout gear, posing while doing a bench press. Then a sumo squat with a kettlebell. Ilya can’t watch this; his dick is coming to life with the memory of the gym. Shane using him while he worked out. They didn’t do bench presses. Ilya could have been fucking him while he benches. Fuck. Shane’s eyes happen to catch his while they set up for the next shot and then he smiles, as if knowing exactly what Ilya is thinking about, his face is probably not wearing his usual professional mask. The next shot involves hanging leg raises. How would it feel to be inside him when he does those? Ilya quickly turns away and heads in the general vicinity of the washrooms. He finally finds them and splashes water on his face to shock him back to the present.

Ilya stays away from the shoot room, finding a chair near the entrance he can park at and do some work. He hasn’t forgotten about Shane’s poll idea. He has the question list created, just needs final touches and an outreach strategy.

Half an hour later, Shane finds him and they head out to the car, neither having spoken a word. Ilya drives and he decides to implement location one as soon as possible. He may have also spent some time doing research on quiet places to park…

“Where are we going?” Shane asks, looking out the window when he realizes they aren’t on the route to his place.

“Very rude of you to do a photo shoot like that in front of me, Shane. We go to the first location now before I explode,” Ilya says in a low, urgent voice.

“Fuck. You think you had it bad? I was wearing tight shorts, Ilya. I’ve never had to try so hard to keep myself in check,” Shane says, urgency creeping in his voice as well.

“I know what you wore. Was one of many problems. Now whole world will see you in slutty shorts,” Ilya says bitterly, much to Shane’s delight.

“Interesting,” Shane says trying to hold back a smile. Ilya doesn’t dignify this with a response, instead he presses on the gas. A few short minutes later they pull into an empty parking lot in a vacant industrial park. Ilya reverses the jeep into the far corner spot with dense trees and a snow pile at the back and the side. He shifts into Park, keeps the vehicle on for the heat, and says, “Get in the back.”

They hurry out of their seat belts and move to the backseat, Shane taking a precautionary look around the lot for cameras before getting back in. He doesn’t see any.

Shane slides in and meets Ilya in the middle, doors slamming shut and mouths crashing open. Their tongues find each other like opposite poles of magnet while their hands work on taking off gloves and coats. Shane straddles Ilya, grasps his wide shoulders, and humps into him, rubbing their thickening cocks together. He can’t stop kissing and moaning but it’s okay because Ilya is matching his energy, and his hands slide under the waist band of Shane’s track pants to grab his ass. When he can feel that they are both hard through all the layers of fabric, Shane hovers above Ilya’s lap to pull his pants low enough, freeing himself, and giving Ilya room to do the same.

Shane leans back in and grabs both of their cocks in one hand, squeezing and jerking. It’s a little dry, their precome not enough for proper lubrication.

“Is there anything in the car?” Shane asks with a breathy voice.

“Yes, center console. Put it there this morning just in case,” Ilya says, kissing any part of Shane he can reach, his pecs, his collar bone, his nipples. Shane shifts off his lap to reach into the compartment, finding the lube without issue. He hops back on and feels a surge of heat traverse his body at the look of unadulterated lust coming from Ilya’s eyes, pupils blown wide. Ilya is vibrating with need and Shane feels powerful that he can affect him so much. He doesn’t waste any time, though, pumping lube into his hand and grabs their cocks again. Ilya lets out a grunt at the feeling and Shane moans into Ilya’s temple. He jerks them off while kissing Ilya’s cheeks, his chin, his mole on the side of his face, his forehead, his lips. He feels wild with need and although they are alone in this parking lot, he can still hear the traffic from the road. This proximity adds to the intoxication of the moment.

Maybe he can blame his sex-drunk state, with an orgasm close on the horizon, for the lowered inhibitions that let him say the next thing.

“Fuck, Ilya, need you so bad, don’t ever want to stop.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a red alert is going off but he can’t focus enough to figure out why.

-

High school was the last time Ilya was ever this uncontrollably horny. He can’t think properly with Shane on top of him, taking such good care of their dicks, and kissing him everywhere. And then Shane says he never wants to stop, which makes Ilya very happy, because he doesn’t want this to end either. He’s not sure if it means this, right now, or their arrangement in general. Ilya’s too love-drunk to parse out the particulars.

“Need you too, sweetheart. Don’t ever stop.”

“Lift your shirt up, gonna come,” Shane warns frantically. Ilya lets go of Shane’s ass and lifts his sweater and tank top. At the sight of Ilya’s abs and chest, Shane comes hard.
“Fuck fuck fuck” he chants, never letting up the motion of his hand. It only takes a few more strokes for Ilya to come, too, mesmerized with Shane’s face in this moment of pleasure. Shane slows down and stills his hand after Ilya’s done convulsing and adding more come to his chest. Shane reaches into the passenger seat back pocket and comes out with napkins. He cleans Ilya off, they tuck themselves away, and Shane drops his forehead onto Ilya’s. They are both smiling when they kiss and Ilya nuzzles Shane’s nose.

“Okay, that was way hotter than the movie theatre,” Shane murmurs against Ilya’s face. Ilya chuckles out his agreement and gives Shane’s cheek a light tap.

“Back to your place for second location,” Ilya says with the controlling voice that makes Shane pliant.

-

On the way home, Shane suggests they eat either a late lunch or an early dinner, first. Ilya is about to offer a counterargument when his stomach betrays him with a loud grumble.

“Okay fine. But I choose restaurant.”

“Ilya, we are not having sex in a restaurant. Or in a restaurant parking lot.”

Ilya rolls his eyes and lightly scoffs.

“Of course not. Would not dream of following you and making you come in the bathroom stall while trying to be quiet,” he says is a low purr.

“Good, I would hate that,” Shane responds though Ilya’s not sure if he’s lying or not as Shane wipes his sweaty palms on his thighs. Ilya smiles.

“You are safe from me today. Location two is back at your place,” Ilya says, drawing out the anticipation. “Restaurant I choose is sushi place.” He has an arrangement with the owners of a sushi restaurant near Shane’s who will always keep a private table available for him. Shane leans his head back on the headrest with a smile.

“That sounds perfect.”

Sure enough, they are escorted to a table in the corner with a privacy screen shielding them mostly from view. They plan to order a bunch of different kinds and have a fun argument over heat levels.

“Russian food is not spicy. Heat is plant telling you to stay away, Shane. We respect plant wishes in Russia.”

“Sounds like a poor excuse for not being able to handle the heat, Ilya,” Shane challenges with a barely contained smile.

“Be careful, or you won’t be able to handle the heat later tonight,” Ilya challenges back. Shane maintains eye contact with his pursed smile.

“I still think you should be more adventurous with food. Spicy foods are more interesting,” Shane says, leaning back.

“In Russia we season our food so is delicious without needing to be interesting,” Ilya returns, mimicking he’s leaned back posture.

“Okay how about a trade. Next time we go out for food, we get medium hot chicken wings. After that, we’ll go to a place that serves Russian food and I’ll eat whatever you tell me.”

Ilya pretends to think for a moment then nods his head.

“Okay. Trade accepted,” Ilya says it as if he’s giving up a big concession.

The server comes over to take their order. While they wait for their food, Ilya pulls out the schedule on the iPad that may as well be attached to his hip.

“Okay, Hollander, tomorrow is full practice at 10am. Thursday is Boston game and Friday flight to New York at 11am then gala at night.”

“The guys have been bugging me about going out with them. I think I’ll go after the game. They tend to be more riled up after Boston games, could probably use a chaperone.”

Ilya keeps his face neutral and professional, but inside he felt a lead weight fall in his stomach. Wednesday is the last day of their week doing whatever this is before they talk. If he has plans on Thursday night, does that mean he doesn’t want to keep going? Should he be mentally preparing for a real end?

If he’s being honest, he didn’t even consider not trying to keep this going in whatever capacity. It’s too good. It’s too addictive and now he’ll be asked to give it up? He thought they were on the same page…

“Do you want me to book, or will you go where they choose?”

“I’ll let them decide.”

Interesting. If Ilya booked it, he’d know where Shane was and could, say, show up at the club. This way means he really doesn’t want to see Ilya that night.

“If you drink and cannot drive home, text the number I will send you. They drive you and your car home.”

Still have to do the job, he thinks, taking a centering breath. No matter what, he’s a professional.

“Noted. Um, feel free to say no, but you could come too, get to know them. You wouldn’t be my P.A., you’d just be you,” Shane stammers out.

Ilya’s lead weight turns into a hot air balloon. Maybe he can hope? Before he can respond, their sushi arrives and it’s a minute until the server departs.

“Up to you. I can text you the location and you can decide then.”

Ilya already knows what his answer will be.

“You mean I can party to celebrate my Boston winning surrounded by sad Metros?” He says gleefully, both because he likes to chirp and because Shane wants to see him again, at least as something more than work associates.

“No way, I’m going to destroy them on Thursday,” he says, very confidently.

“We shall see. Perhaps we bet on it?”

“What kind of bet?” Shane leans forward, popping a California roll in his mouth.

“If Boston wins, you have to kiss me at gala,” Ilya says, watching Shane’s eyes darken.

“And if Montreal wins, I have to kiss you at gala,” Ilya purrs.

“Very risky,” Shane speaks in a voice just above a whisper.

“Yes,” he says matter-of-factly but still in that low voice.

“Deal,” Shane says while holding out his hand.

“Deal,” Ilya reaches out and grasps Shane’s hand, which is warm and calloused from all the years of hockey. When they release - holding on a little longer than necessary - they slide their hands to maintain contact as long as possible. There. He’s secured himself time with Shane on Thursday and a kiss on Friday. The nerves about what happens next are held at bay for the moment.

“You’re getting your tux tomorrow?” Shane asks, picking up the crab maki with his chopsticks.

“Yes. Appointment at 10:30 so I will drop you off and head straight there.”

They both reached for the same salmon nigiri which of course broke out in a chopstick battle.

“Aha!” Shane exclaims, the salmon nigiri successfully secured. Ilya snapped up a crunchy salmon before Shane could steal that, too.

Conversation flows between them, always feeling like they’ve known each other for much longer. Shane is only his third client, but he didn’t have this easy friendship with the others. Sergei was more of an uncle figure. The Hot Shot CEO was more like his older brother, who didn’t respect him and only talked to him when he needed something. Ilya thinks if he and Shane met outside of this working relationship, they still would have ended up as friends. Ilya enjoys teasing him, and he appreciates that Shane gives it right back.

“So who’s your favourite player in Boston?” Shane asks him.

“Cliff Marleau. Good enforcer but he can score goals, too,” Ilya says immediately. Shane nods, eating another California roll.

“He needs a better Center, though. Boston hasn’t had a decent Center in a long time. They had the second draft pick the year I was drafted. It’s weird to think if they had first pick, I might be a Boston Raider. The rivalry between the teams is kind of dumb.”

“You still think you would have been first pick if Boston had choice?”

“Of course,” he says. It would be arrogant if he wasn’t leagues better than everyone else. No point being modest when there’s barely anyone on the ice that can challenge you, and everyone knows it.

“Who knows, we might have met earlier, then. Both of us in Boston.”

“Oh yeah, I didn’t even think of that!” Shane looks deep in thought.

“I see you at a club with the Raiders. Go up to you at the bar and start flirting. What would you have done?” Ilya asks.

“Depends, would I realize you were flirting? I don’t always know that’s what people are doing. Especially other guys,” Shane admits.

“I would try not to be too obvious. Hitting on a hockey player can be dangerous.”

“Then, I’d make polite conversation. I assume we’d talk about hockey and I’d be happy that you’d be analytical about it.”

“Most people do not tell you you have a weak backhand? Poor Shane. No one tells you the truth,” Ilya teases.

“A weak backhand!?”

“Yes, very weak. But is okay. Next time we skate, I fix for you,” Ilya says with all the arrogance of a Russian prince. Shane scoffs but has a smile on his face.

“At the end of this conversation, I ask for your phone number. To keep talking hockey, of course. Do you give it?” Ilya asks, more curious about this than he probably should be.

“I honestly don’t know. I know that I would want to. But I don’t know if it would override my fear. I hope I’d be brave enough, though.”

Ilya is satisfied with this answer and snatches the last California roll before Shane hogs them all.

A peaceful quiet settles between them and the server is back to collect dishes and give them the bill.

-

Back at home, they take off their jackets and Shane’s anticipation for this evening’s events is ramped up. He doesn’t know which room Ilya will choose, and he hopes his idea isn’t stolen.

Before Shane can wonder any more, Ilya wraps his arms around him and brings their lips together. Shane’s jitters settle and only excitement and arousal remain. Ilya walks forward, releases Shane’s lips and steers him to the hall. Ilya is only a few inches away from Shane, but he doesn’t lean in for another kiss. His stare is intense; Shane can’t look away. Ilya brings him to the office, and only when they get to the middle of the room does he finally lean in for a kiss. Shane’s hands slide under Ilya’s shirt to feel his strong abs and he’s happy to note that his locations are still available.

Ilya’s hands are cupping Shane’s face, and in between kisses Ilya whispers, “I choose office. I will enjoy these memories every time I come in here to work.” Shane’s heart is racing. He needs to be extra good so Ilya can never forget. If Ilya wants to stop after the week is up, maybe thinking about tonight will change his mind…

“Sit in the chair,” Shane says. Ilya grins and sits down as instructed. Shane goes down on all fours and crawls under the desk. He places himself between Ilya’s legs, opens Ilya’s fly and takes his cock out. He opens his mouth and wraps his lips around Ilya’s half hard dick, enjoying the feeling of it getting harder.

-

“Sucking me so good, Shane, fuck,” Ilya grunts, losing his mind a little at the image of Shane blowing him while he works. He leans forward, one hand settling on Shane’s head and the other on his shoulder. He enjoys the wet heat around his cock, and Shane has certainly learned what Ilya likes.

Ilya takes off his shirt, then lifts Shane’s. He huffs, pouting for having to let go of Ilya’s cock while the shirt comes off. He hungrily devours it as soon as he’s free of the shirt. Ilya groans when Shane swallows around him.

“Touch yourself for me,” Ilya says. Shane lowers his jeans, spits in his own hand, then grasps his hard on. He strokes it in time with his sucking, sighing at the touch. He lets Shane feel some relief from his hand before standing up and helping Shane out from under the desk. They step out of their pants, kiss, and then Ilya is turning Shane around and bending him over, placing his forearms are on the desk.

“Spread your legs,” Ilya says. Ilya leans over and places two of his fingers into Shane’s mouth. Shane obediently wets them then Ilya starts working Shane’s hole. He gently pushes in with one finger and relishes the gasp Shane makes. He reaches the knuckle before he slowly pulls out until just his fingertip remains inside. This time when he pushes back in, he searches for the sweet spot that will make Shane go crazy. He knows he finds it when Shane shudders and moans, “Fuck, right there, please.”

Ilya loves it when Shane begs. It’s one of the greatest sounds in the world. Ilya gives him what he wants, spending time focusing on his sensitive prostate. With his other hand, he reaches around to Shane’s leaking cock. He places his thumb over the slit where the wetness gathers and rubs slow circles over the sensitive tip.

“More, god, more,” Shane whines.

Ilya adds the second finger and hears Shane’s relieved sigh as he breaths through the stretch. He scissors his fingers to help loosen him up and doesn’t waste much time adding a third finger. Shane is bucking back onto Ilya’s fingers now. Watching Shane let go like this is a revelation. Ilya is quite proud at how confident Shane has become about sex, having provided a safe space for Shane to experiment without judgment.

“Open top drawer. Condom and lube are there,” Ilya instructs.

Shane stops bucking but he moves his hips in circles while he reaches to his side where the drawer is, grabs the items, and places them on the desk.

Ilya retracts his fingers, his dick twitching at the sounds of yearning desire coming from Shane. He wastes no time ripping open the condom, putting it on, then lubing it up. He brings his cock to the entrance of Shane’s ass.

“Hold on tight, Shane. I will not go easy on you tonight.”

And with that, Ilya slides in with some force and almost drowns in the tightness he feels.

“Fuck, always so tight, you don’t know what you do to me,” Ilya purrs. Shane has no coherent response, only unintelligible moans. Ilya is fully sheathed and takes a breather, massaging Shane’s lower back while he waits. And waits. Shane’s legs start to quiver and he restarts his hip circles for friction. Ilya’s hands grasp his hips to hold him still.

“Tonight, you come by my cock when I say is okay. You don’t move, just take what I give you, yes?”

“Yes, please fuck me, please move, need to feel it, please,” Shane’s voice breaks on the last please.

Ilya finally takes pity, and let’s face it, he’s struggling to stay in control of his pleasure, too. He moves. His hands stay on Shane’s hips as he partially slides out and thrusts back in hard, earning a grunt from both of them. He gets into a steady rhythm, fucking Shane in his own office. Ilya watches his cock disappear inside the hottest man in the MLH, knowing these sounds he’s eliciting are only for him. No one else has seen this and Ilya does not want to share.

He needs more memories, just in case, so he pulls out completely and Shane moans.

“Lie on your back on the desk.”

Luckily, they keep a clean desk so there’s no clutter to clear away. Shane lies back lengthwise, with his ass just at the edge of the desk and his knees bent, legs spread in a V shape. Ilya stands between them again and guides his cock back into Shane.

Ilya still has residual lube on his hand which he uses it to stroke Shane. He gets two strokes for each thrust, and before long Shane is squirming and mewling.

“Fuck, so close, too good,” Shane says, white knuckling the sides of the desk to stay in place. His biceps are straining, his core is pulled right, and his face, his beautiful face with the beautiful freckles is flushed, mouth open, eyes hooded as he watches Ilya slam into him and stroke him at the same time.

Ilya wants to edge Shane, but he’ll save it for another day where they will hopefully have a bed or somewhere softer than this desk. Instead, he speeds up both his hand and his hips. Shane is arching his back to chase a certain angle and finds it, crying out with each thrust, mouthing oh my god on repeat.

“Let me see you fall apart on my dick, come for me now,” Ilya growls.

“Fuckfuckfuck, Ilya, fuck!” Shane cries out through his orgasm, his come spurting out in ribbons. It’s too much. The vision of Shane on his desk, naked, coming apart. The sounds of need and pleasure and skin slapping into skin. The feeling of Shane tightening even more on his cock. Ilya succumbs to the sensation, his climax hits him like a freight train, a Russian swear passing his lips, and he stills then pumps to get everything into the condom. He’s bowed forward, sweat dripping from his forehead onto Shane’s abs. Shane lifts himself up just onto his elbows, looking dazed and sated. Ilya leans forward and brings their lips together for a slow kiss, one hand cradling Shane’s neck. He doesn’t want to detach himself but knows that Shane can’t be comfortable on the desk like that. He steps away carefully, Shane moans the loss of contact as well, and deals with the condom.

“Come, we shower now. I clean you up after you make such a mess on yourself,” Ilya teases.

“You made the mess happen, asshole,” Shane says with absolutely no bite behind it. They both smile like fools and make their way to the upstairs en-suite bathroom, Shane a little slower than normal. They make it into the shower and true to his word, Ilya takes his time washing Shane with his fancy soap, all traces of his release and the lube down the drain. Ilya pops open the shampoo bottle and gets to work lathering Shane’s hair. He doesn’t protest, he sinks into the head massage with his eyes closed. He carefully rinses it out taking care to not let the shampoo reach his eyes. He adds conditioner and massages that in, too. He leaves it in while he quickly soaps and shampoos himself. Shane watches him and Ilya preens at the attention, perhaps throwing in more flexing than he usually does in the shower. He adds conditioner to his hair, and finally rinses Shane’s hair, then his own.

The water is warm and neither is in a rush to get out. They kiss, but it’s not the kind that leads anywhere. It’s indulgent, enjoying the feeling of their lips pressed together, or their tongues licking and tasting each other’s mouths. When the part of him that isn’t directly under the water starts to get too cold, he finally turns off the water and they towel themselves dry. Shane does his nighttime skin routine while Ilya brushes his teeth. It’s very domestic. Easy. Simple. Right.

They head to the bedroom, and Ilya pauses for a fraction of a second, hoping he can spend the night again. Shane must sense the moment of hesitation because he grabs Ilya’s wrist and pulls him to the bed. They get under the covers and Shane snuggles right into the nook, his hand resting across Ilya’s chest.

“G’night,” Shane says quietly, kissing Ilya’s pec. Ilya kisses the top of Shane head.

“Goodnight, Shane.”

Chapter End Notes

One day left! I wonder where Shane will choose? 🤔

Chapter 10: Day 7

Chapter Summary

Previously on "P.A. Wanted": Day 6 finds the boys in the back seat of the car and in the office. A deal about a kiss at the gala is made.

On today's episode: Day 7 - Suit shopping, more racing, and Shane's last location(s).

Chapter Notes

The morning starts with Ilya waking up from Shane sucking him. Shane is straddling one of Ilya’s legs and is slowly grinding his own hard cock against it for friction.

“Good morning to me,” Ilya says with a groggy voice. Shane bobs his head faster and ruts Ilya’s leg in earnest.

“Fuck, so hot. Don’t stop humping me. Show me how much I turn you on.”

Shane moans and takes Ilya deeper, and one hand cups his balls and gives a little tug. Ilya is so close but then Shane stops, keeps the tip of his dick in his mouth, looks up at Ilya through his lashes, and really starts humping him. He’s moaning, his eyes are glassy, and when Ilya spurts a bit of precome Shane’s eyes almost roll back and he’s coming on Ilya’s leg. Shane’s mouth tightens and the sight and vibrations from the moan are too much for Ilya and he’s coming for Shane to greedily swallow.

Shane rolls off and lies on his back. Ilya grabs him under the armpits and hoists him back up to the pillows, facing him. He kisses Shane’s blissed out face before landing on his lips where they kiss slowly, savoring every moment before the alarm goes off.

Ilya turns off the alarm but doesn’t jump out of bed, yet. If this is truly their last day, he’s going to wring out every second he can. Shane seems to be on the same page since he doesn’t get up yet, either. They continue kissing, limbs wrapped up together, ignoring the cum on Ilya’s leg.

Ilya has never kissed anyone the way he kisses Shane. He enjoys kissing, of course. It’s good foreplay. He doesn’t usually kiss his partners much after the sex, though. It’s different with Shane. He could spend the entire day kissing him and never get bored. He worries what this will mean after today… he doesn’t want whatever this is to stop. But he doesn’t want to do anything that puts Shane in an uncomfortable position. If he wants this to end after today (and Friday night’s kiss at the gala!), Ilya will do it. It might kill him a little every day to be so near and not be allowed to touch anymore, but it’s better than nothing.

-

Shane knows he needs to get up and start his day but his addiction to Ilya Rozanov is all consuming at the moment. He woke up from a dream where he was blowing Ilya in the empty locker room after a game. His cock was hard and Ilya was sleeping on his back giving Shane an opportunity, so he took it. Now they are tangled together for possibly the last time. He doesn’t know what to do. He never wants to stop whatever this is. He knows he doesn’t want to see anyone else, and he doesn’t want to hear about Ilya going on dates, either. Does Shane want a real relationship? Can Ilya still be his assistant in that scenario? Would there be any uncomfortable power dynamics? He honestly doesn’t think so… maybe from an outsider’s perspective it would look like Shane is taking advantage of his P.A. Let’s face it, though, Ilya is the one telling Shane what to do both in and out of the bedroom and Shane loves it. It really doesn’t feel like a power imbalance. He hopes Ilya feels the same, like they are equals. They work together to uphold the Shane Hollander brand each in their own capacity. And they can enjoy each other’s company and bodies while they do that. What’s so wrong with that?

But what if he’s getting ahead of himself and Ilya really is happy to go back to the way things were before? Maybe he misses sleeping with other people and going on dates. It’s not unreasonable to think he’d get bored with Shane and his lack of experience at some point. He would never make Ilya do something he doesn’t want to do. He’ll make it clear that if Ilya wants to stop, it won’t jeopardize his job.

During this spiral, he barely realized their lazy kisses were becoming more desperate, as if they both realized this could be their last morning and they want to make it count.

Shane’s second alarm that he rarely needs to use goes off. It gave them an extra half-hour in bed, but now they really do have to get up.

-

After dropping Shane off at practice, Ilya heads to his black-tie appointment.

“Hello, Mr. Rozanov, I am Brigitte and I’ll be helping you today. I’ve pre-selected some options based on your measurements. What are you envisioning?” Brigitte, a middle-aged woman with styled silver hair, motions for Ilya to follow her to the fitting room where he sees several suits and tuxedos on a rack.

“I am Personal Assistant to Shane Hollander. We are going to the Men’s Health Magazine Christmas Gala in New York. I need to look stylish but of course cannot upstage Mr. Hollander. But also… there is someone there… I want to get their attention. Perhaps subtle and sexy?” Ilya gives her a flirtatious smile.

“Understood! In that case, let’s go with the black tuxedo, a black shirt, and a tie and pocket square the same colour as your eyes,” Brigitte suggests while gathering the different pieces she’s named. “Start with these and I’ll go find the perfect tie.”

Ilya gets changed, noting everything fits very well already, minus the length of the pants. She didn’t mention which shoes to wear with it, but Ilya opts for patent leather slip-ons. He’s standing on a pedestal in front of the three-way mirror when Brigitte returns with a few different colours. One by one she holds them up to his eyes before she settles on a dark teal satin tie and pocket square. Ilya ties it on and slips the square in his pocket, adjust the jacket, and checks himself out in the mirror.

Ilya is the perfect combination of sexy and downplayed. The real guests will be wearing bowties so his regular tie will tell people he isn’t a VIP. On the other hand, Shane will hopefully appreciate the cut of the tux and the colour that matches his eyes.

“Brigitte, you are miracle worker. This is perfect. I take it all.”

“Wonderful! Let me pin the length of the pants and our in-house tailor will hem them for you. We’ll dry-clean everything and have it ready by tomorrow afternoon.”

Ilya hides a smirk, remembering his comment to Shane about in-house tailors. Since he doesn’t have time to bring it anywhere else, he’ll have to keep this piece of trivia to himself.

With that task done, Ilya heads to a print shop. He received the catalogue of faces and names (a face book, one might say) to study. He picks up the spiral bound book and returns to the arena. Parking himself in his usual seat in the friends and family box, Ilya flips through the book quickly before hunkering down for a proper study.

A fast blur on the ice catches his eye and he looks up to see Shane speeding down the ice similar to their race a couple weeks ago. Sure enough, the coach is there with a stopwatch. Each player takes a turn, waiting for the coach’s whistle, then speeds down the ice. The coach records their time.

-

Shane leaves his team to finish the speed drill, takes his skates off, slips on sandals, and hurries to the box where he saw Ilya enter. Ilya looks up at the door opening, surprised (but pleased?) to see Shane standing there in his full practice gear.

“It’s time, Rozanov.”

“For what?” Ilya asks, bemused.

“To put on skates and show these professional hockey players how to put one skate in front of the other really quickly,” Shane says with a wicked smile. Ilya lights up.

“Seriously?”

“Yes! I’ve got skates for you on the bench. Let’s go.” Ilya leaves the book on the table and follows him out.

“How did suit shopping go?”

“Very good, I will not embarrass you in front of New York elite,” Ilya teases and Shane exhales a laugh.

“No worries there. You are always cool, calm, and collected. I’m the one who’ll embarrass myself, I’m sure. I’m glad you’ll be there. Elbow me if I start rambling or am too quiet. I can never seem to get that balance right,” Shane says, oversharing as always. What is it about Ilya that makes him open up so easily?

“I’ve never seen this. Will be interesting to see you outside of your element. What is your drink of choice at these types of events? Still ginger ale? There is a mocktail called Cranberry Mule. Ginger ale, cranberry, and lime. You might like.”

“Oh, that sounds good. Yeah, usually I just get ginger ale. I’d try that though, switch things up a bit,” Shane says, touched that Ilya is already thinking about his comfort.

They get to the bench and the speed drill is still going. Ilya laces up the skates Shane brought him and follows him onto the ice. The players all look over in confusion, but Shane doesn’t say anything at first, waiting for the last player to skate.

The coach skates closer and tells them the top five standings:

Shane: 4.64 seconds
Boiziau: 4.82 seconds
Andropov: 4.89 seconds
Pike: 4.97 seconds
Clarkson: 5.02 seconds

Everyone was told their time when they crossed the line, so they have a sense of where they rank in the pack. A lot of them look impressed at those times and a bit embarrassed about their own. Some look annoyed.

“Thanks, coach! By now most of you know my Personal Assistant, Ilya Rozanov. I’d like him to do the speed test as well. Rozanov, why don’t you do a warmup lap around the rink and then get in position.” Ilya smiles and starts skating. The coach looks confused but is willing to entertain his star center for a moment, as Shane anticipated.

He really does have beautiful crossovers. His edges are clean. He even switches to skate backwards for the last quarter of the lap. Show off. Shane smiles.

-

Ilya gets in position, knowing the Metros are about to be very unhappy. He hears the whistle and pushes off strong, accelerating quickly and pumping his legs furiously, imagining Shane next to him as motivation. He gives a last burst of strength and crosses the line, coming to a hard stop with a big spray of ice.

The coach’s eyes look startled, much to Ilya’s pleasure.

“Rozanov: 4.65…” The coach’s startled expression turns to anger, but not at Ilya.

“The only person Rozanov didn’t beat was Hollander, and even then, he was only 0.01 seconds behind. How the fuck is some guy off the street faster than my fucking hockey team?”

Ilya shares a glance with Shane, who looks proud, filling Ilya with warmth. The coach has everyone minus Shane doing bag skates. Shane follows Ilya to the door but remains on the ice.

“You are welcome, by the way. For not beating your time. I did this on purpose of course. Wouldn’t want team to lose respect for their Captain,” Ilya smirks.

“Ha! Ya right. I’ve been conditioning since that race to make sure I’m faster. We’ll have to do another head-to-head best out of three race soon,” Shane says with a smile as he reaches out and shakes his shoulder. He skates back to his team where he joins them in the bag skates like a good team player.

-

The bag skate session lasts ten minutes, then Shane tacks on line sprints as punishment for the privacy invasion of the day before, and then after a few more drills, the practice is over and everyone hits the showers.

Comeau and Drapeau look more annoyed than the others.

“Dude, why did you let your fucking P.A. show us up like that?” Comeau asks, his brow furrowed.

“Because I’m tired of being the fastest skater all the time. None of my motivational speeches were working, so I took a different route. If you don’t like that my P.A. is faster than you by an entire second or more, work on your coordination and power.” They still look annoyed and Comeau opens his mouth again but JJ jumps in first.

“How did you know?”

“Know what?” Shane asks.

“That he was so fast?”

“Oh, I had a shoot last month in an arena. I invited him on the rink afterwards ‘cuz he told me he used to play hockey. That’s when I saw how fast he was and we raced, best two out of three. He fucking beat me. I redeemed myself on the last race, but he still won the first two. I’ve been conditioning for the past month, and it clearly worked since I beat him, although just barely, today.”

Comeau’s annoyance faded away. “Wait, he beat you, too?”

“Yep. Want me to share the workouts I did to give myself an edge?”

Everyone in the locker room was nodding their heads or saying, “hell yes”. Shane feels a glow he only feels when something he does as Captain actually works.

-

On the way back to Shane’s apartment, Ilya has a question he needs to ask.

“Shane.”

“Ilya.”

“This is last day. Am I staying the night or going home after?” He can see Shane fidgeting in the passenger seat and is sure if he looked over he’d see a blush on his cheeks.

“Um. Good question. Maybe stay over and we can talk in the morning?” Shane offers, staring straight out the windshield.

“Okey. Quick stop at my place then so I can grab clothes. Is your last location at your place?” Ilya asks, relieved that he gets one more morning with Shane. Shane must hear the difference in his tone because the tension they both heard in their voices before is gone.

“Yeah. The open concept area… so like, start at the island which is where we had our first conversation. Then the dining room table you helped me find. Then the couch where we watch movies,” Shane says and Ilya glances over to see his blush deepen.

“Sounds like three locations to me… but is perfect. I did say I wanted to fuck you in every room. And now I can make plans for positions,” he says in a low, sultry voice. They don’t say anything else for the remainder of the short drive, each lost in their own imaginations.

Ilya parks in front of his apartment and runs in to quickly grab some fresh clothes. He pauses a moment to snatch something from the den and shoves it in his pocket.

He hurries back to the vehicle and tosses his overnight bag in the backseat.

As soon as Shane’s front door closes behind them, they waste no time crashing their lips into each other, both starving for it all day.

“You were so fucking hot on the ice,” Shane says into his lips, his hands sliding under Ilya’s shirt to feel his muscles.

“Is too bad today is last day, I still want to fuck you in locker room,” Ilya says in a low breath.

“Fuck, so dangerous,” Shane shivers at the thought, but is it from the risk or the excitement, or both? Ilya breaks their kiss and pins Shane’s arms to his sides and marches him backwards towards the kitchen island, similar to how he walked him to the passenger door one week ago. Shane’s pupils dilate, perhaps remembering the same moment.

-

“Stay still,” Ilya says once they stop in front of the island. He pulls Shane’s shirt off, folds it and places it on the island. Shane melts a little and watches Ilya’s face, hoping he doesn’t find a smirk or a teasing look. He doesn’t. Ilya pulls down Shane’s jeans, lets him step out of them, and then folds those too and adds them to the pile. He slowly lowers Shane’s briefs, and sure enough, he folds those too. He kisses Shane to distract him before he lifts him up under the thighs and deposits him on the island. Shane wraps his legs around Ilya but he slowly steps back, shaking his head. He holds on to one of Shane’s legs, then strips off his sock. He does the same on the other side, and adds them to the top of the pile.

“Stay,” Ilya says again, watching Shane’s face while he undresses himself. Shane is twitching to touch, to hold, to help, but Ilya said to stay and he’s going to be good for him. His cock is throbbing with anticipation and want. When Ilya removes his boxers, Shane’s eyes are drawn like magnets to his cock. Ilya gives himself a few tugs, not because he needs to get hard, he’s plenty hard, but just to give Shane a bit of a show. It works, because Shane’s breath is shallow and almost whining. He approaches Shane, who’s been waiting super patiently, the patron saint of patience, and leans in. Shane leans in to meet him but instead of his lips, Ilya brings their foreheads together, noses nuzzling, lips so close yet so far. Shane is on fire, or he’s been electrocuted, all he knows is every nerve ending is lit up and he still, still hasn’t touched Ilya. He doesn’t know much longer he can last.

All of a sudden, Ilya lifts him under the thighs again and deposits him back on the ground, allowing their bodies to slide against each other for just a moment. Shane’s vision is narrowed to just Ilya.

And then Ilya tells Shane he’s going to measure him again.

Shane might pass out from blood rushing from his head to his dick. His dick might explode from too much blood. Can Ilya read his fucking mind? Did he know back in October that Shane fantasized about this? Obediently, Shane stands straight and puts his arms out parallel to the ground.

-

Ilya grabs the measuring tape from his discarded pants. He follows the same order as before, but this time he’s not jealous of the tape measure. He touches Shane, brushes against him, let’s his own hard cock bump into Shane as he moves around. He makes sure to rub them against each other when he’s facing Shane. Drags his hands over Shane’s ass for the hip measurement. Ilya adds another measurement for fun and measures Shane’s length (a very respectable 7 ¾ inches).

-

Shane has never been so turned on in his life, every single nerve ending is tingling and waiting for Ilya’s next touch. When he measures his cock, Shane’s eyes roll back and he whimpers.

“I do the inseam now, is okay?” Ilya echoes what he asked in the past.

“Yep,” Shane nods, hopefully remembering his line.

Ilya shifts his cock and balls aside to get the full measurement on both sides, just to be sure, he says.

“Should I take care of this while I’m down here, Mr. Hollander?”

Shane’s precome is dripping and Ilya doesn’t wait for a response before he licks the tip and takes his length in his mouth.

“Oh fuck,” Shane moans. His hands rest in Ilya’s beautiful golden curls, finally giving in and touching him. He doesn’t think he’ll last long, especially after seeing his fantasy come to life.

“Fuck, I’m close already, so fucking hot, love your mouth,” Shane rambles, never taking his eyes off Ilya.

Ilya slows down his pace but doesn’t stop completely.

“No, please no, keep going, please,” Shane pleads, so so close to the edge.

Ilya pulls off and looks up at him apologetically.

“Sorry, sweetheart, but I have too many plans for you tonight,” Ilya says, stands up then kisses Shane deeply with a hand on his jaw. Then he steps back and pulls out a bar stool and sits on it.

“Come,” he says, gesturing for Shane to approach. He leads Shane’s face to his cock and Shane gladly takes it in his slick mouth. His hands grip Ilya’s muscular thighs while Ilya’s hands roam over his back and biceps.

-

Ilya mentally catalogues this moment. Next time he’s working at the kitchen island, he’ll think of Shane sucking his cock and humming his enjoyment.

Shane has gotten very skilled in the past week, and Ilya needs to stop him before he comes down his throat. He grabs Shane’s face with both hands and lifts it off his pulsing cock with difficulty. Shane’s eyes are clouded over in lust and Ilya almost loses control. Precome leaks out of him instead.

He gets off the stool and walks Shane backwards yet again, this time to the kitchen table. He shares a sloppy kiss with Shane before turning him around and bending him over the table.

“Stay here,” he orders. Shane whimpers at the order but doesn’t move as Ilya steps away to grab the lube, then he has an idea. He opens the fridge door and takes out a lemon. He finds a cutting board and a knife and before he can cut into it, Shane is looking over his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” he demands.

“I did not say you could turn around. Stay there and wait for me. And spread your legs a bit more.”

Shane sighs and does as he’s told. Ilya cuts himself a lemon wedge, fills a glass of water, adds the lemon wedge, and takes a nice long sip, all while enjoying the view of Shane’s ass in the air, eager to be taken apart. He leaves the glass on the counter and slowly walks around the island to the dining table. He stands behind Shane, not touching him, but close enough that Shane can certainly feel his presence.

“Please…” Shane begs.

Ilya lightly grazes Shane’s ass cheek with the back of his hand, causing Shane to shiver. Ilya lubes his cock, places it between Shane’s thighs, and tells him to close his legs. Ilya starts humping into the tight crease he’s created, grazing against Shane’s balls while he does it.

“Such a good boy, letting me use your body like this,” Ilya murmurs. His hand still has lube on it, so he gives Shane some relief by stroking his cock in time with his thrusts.

“Oh my god,” Shane moans. Ilya slows his pace as he feels himself getting close again already. He moves his slick hand to trace around Shane’s hole. He adds a bit more lube, then gently pushes his finger in. Shane breathes through it.

“You like my finger in your perfect ass. Do you want a second finger? Have you earned it?”

“Please… I haven’t moved, just like you asked. Need more,” Shane says between breaths as Ilya continues to finger fuck him. Without saying another word, Ilya adds the second finger earning a pleased whimper from Shane. He scissors his fingers before adding a third finger and he speeds up his motions, going as deep as he can and focusing on his prostate.

Shane yells out from the constant stimulation, a string of curse words flowing from his mouth. Ilya’s cock is almost painful, craving to find its home.

“Are you ready for my cock?”

“Yes, so ready,” Shane says eagerly.

“Say it. Say you want my cock.”

“Fuck, Ilya, I want your cock inside me. I need it. I need you. Please fuck me,” Shane begs, his head laying on his forearms on the table, eyes almost wet with tears.

“You ask so nicely. I give you what you need.”

Ilya pulls out from between Shane’s thighs, rolls on the condom from the counter, and slicks himself up. He places one hand on Shane’s shoulder, the other on his hip, lines his tip with Shane’s eager hole, and pushes in.

-

Finally, Shane thinks. He groans, relishing the pressure, the stretch, and the fullness. Ilya keeps going until he’s fully sheathed in Shane. How is he supposed to give this up? If Ilya is making a case for this to continue after today, he’s making a really fucking good argument.

“Am going to fuck you hard now, Shane. But no coming. You tell me when you are close. Okey?”

“Yes, yes I promise, please fuck me.”

And he does. He pounds into Shane hard and fast. He is loud, not even saying words anymore, just needing Ilya to know how good he feels. He knows he will feel this tomorrow and the thought excites him.

“’Mmclose,” Shane mumbles, legs shaking as he holds out as long as he can.

Ilya stills then slowly retreats.

“Couch now. Lie on your back.” Ilya follows close behind Shane. Shane is barely lying down before Ilya is lifting his legs, putting a knee on the couch, and sliding back inside Shane. Both moaning in relief, feeling complete again.

-

Ilya can’t get enough of this feeling. Watching Shane be so vulnerable, allowing Ilya to enter him, will never not be a revelation. The trust Shane gives him is absolute and Ilya will do anything, everything, to keep it that way. His thrusts are deep and steady as he watches Shane’s open mouth, shallow breaths, clouded eyes, and beautiful flush. He squeezes Shane’s pec; Shane’s hand grasps his wrist for something to hold on to.

“So good, want this, want you, fuck,” Shane groans as he moves his hips in tandem with Ilya.

“You have me,” Ilya whispers, not sure if Shane hears him or not.

Forever. Forever if you’ll have me.

“So close, please, please let me come,” Shane begs so sweetly. Ilya is nothing if not obliging. He speeds up and angles to make sure he’s stimulating Shane’s prostate. Shane is soon crying out, barely holding on by a thread, it seems.

“Okay, sweetheart, now you can come, come on my cock, you’ve earned it, been so good to me, say my name,” Ilya rambles, sweating and breathing hard from exertion.

Shane lasts a couple more thrusts until he’s whimpering, “Fuck, Ilya, fuck!”

His body clenches, his back arches, and beautiful white ribbons erupt from his cock, landing on his chest. Ilya finally lets go, kissing Shane while he’s coming, filling the condom, and moaning against his lips. Exhausted, he drops on top of Shane, not caring about the come that’s now sandwiched between them. He catches his breath while Shane lightly massages his scalp.

They take a joint shower full of slow kisses, dry each other off, then fall asleep in bed all tangled together. Ilya has never needed someone before. He’s wanted, sure. He loves to want. Wanting is fun. But then he gets it, and it’s enough. On to the next Want. This is different. Ilya needs Shane. And a need doesn’t go away when it’s met. It must be maintained.

Chapter End Notes

Next episode: A conversation is had and Boston plays Montreal.

I wonder how that conversation is going to go...

 

Thank you for all the kudos and comments! <3

Chapter 11: Raiders

Chapter Summary

Previously on P.A. Wanted: Last day of their week of fooling around.

This episode: A conversation and the Raiders game

Chapter Notes

It’s impossible to say who wakes up first. Maybe they both open their eyes at the same time after pretending to be asleep, desperately clinging to this moment. But they do open their eyes eventually. Shane turns over in Ilya’s arms and kisses him. He’s decided so long as they stay in bed, the previous rules apply.

Ilya gladly reciprocates the kiss, holding on to Shane too tight. Way too tight. But Shane is squeezing him just as hard.

They need to have a conversation. He knows that. But he doesn’t feel ready. Maybe Ilya is holding him tight to say goodbye? To say, this was fun, glad we got it out of our system? Shane can’t handle that right now. He’s not ready for goodbye.

What if it’s not goodbye? What if he doesn’t want it to end either?

Oh no, Shane can feel himself start to tremble. He needs to say something. He should have put more thought into it. He was too busy enjoying the fantasy of being with Ilya to think about how to ask for what he wants. But, to ask for what he wants and be rejected? He’s not emotionally prepared for that. He just needs a few more days… he promises himself he’ll put more thought into it. He’ll be ready. He just needs more time…

Shane steels himself and pulls back just enough to say, “It was dumb to think we should have a conversation on a Game Day. Irresponsible of me, really.” Is his voice shaking? Deep breath. “And tomorrow is a travel day. And then another game day. Is my Sunday free? Maybe we can wait until then?” Please please please.

-

Thank god, Ilya thinks. He wasn’t ready for this to end either. He doesn’t have the words yet so he’s glad Shane bought them some time. He’ll think it over. Try to find the best way to ask for what he wants.

“Yes, good plan. Sunday,” he’s nodding, kissing him again, and moaning. Three more days. Ilya growls when Shane ends the kiss, but it cuts off when Shane trails those kisses down his neck to his chest making his way to his cock. He kisses the length, slides his tongue over the slit, and finally takes it in his mouth.

After their very enjoyable blowjobs, they shower together before making their way downstairs for breakfast. Over coffee, Ilya can’t help himself again. He has to ask.

“We are not having the conversation yet, but does that mean we are still trading locations?”

“Um, ya, I think so. It’s your turn,” Shane says, his cheeks turning a delicious shade of pink.

“How possible is it... the locker room? If we go before anyone else?”

Shane turns a darker shade a pink.

“Not impossible. Hayden brought Jackie there once, on a game day. He says that’s how they conceived Arthur,” Shane rolls his eyes. “They went in the morning and locked the door for safety. Lots of arena staff have keys but no one is really there in the mornings.”

“I see,” Ilya says, eyes darkening. He flips open the laptop, gives a cursory glance at the inbox, and continues. “Your schedule for today. Fucking me in the arena locker room at 9am. Showering together at the arena. Back here for pre-game nap on my chest. Then back to the arena where you will get ready in a locker room thinking about my cock.”

Shane’s pupils are blown wide and his face has a vacant look as if Ilya’s words have already transported him to the arena and left his body behind.

“Okay?” Ilya confirms.

“Okay,” Shane says, still in a daze. “What time is it?”

Ilya laughs. “Not time to leave yet. You have 45 minutes to kill while I book your next haircut and teeth whitening.”

Shane pouts. He pouts. God, Ilya wants to bite on that bottom lip. But no, they are working now, and they blurred the lines enough for one morning. With difficulty, Ilya tears his eyes away and focuses on the laptop.

-

Shane and Ilya enter the arena at the player’s entrance and do a cursory walk around to see how many people are here. Shane has an excuse prepared, just in case, but they are in luck, there were no cars in the parking lot, and the locker room floor is silent. They enter the locker room; Shane locks the door behind him and does a quick sweep into the adjoining showers. Empty.

Ilya wraps his arms around Shane from behind and kisses his neck. They walk backwards from the showers into the main locker room. Ilya maneuvers them to Shane’s stall.

“Will you wear your jersey for me?” Ilya murmurs in his ear. Shane nods quickly.

He takes off his coat and shirt, and Ilya follows suit. Shane grabs his jersey with #24 HOLLANDER written on the back and the big C on the front. He slips it on and removes his boots and pants. Ilya’s eyes are molten as he takes off the rest of his clothes. Ilya removes Shane’s boxers then grasps Shane’s ass and pushes their hips together before leaning in for a kiss. Their cocks brush against each other, eliciting moans from both of them. He spins them around and sits on the bench while keeping Shane standing, facing the room. Ilya spreads Shane’s cheeks dives in to caress his hole with his tongue. He wastes no time opening him up, alternating between tongue and finger.

“Please, I’m ready, fuck, fuck me,” Shane pleads.

He’s holding the base of his cock so he doesn’t come too early and he looks around the room, not believing he’s actually doing this. The smell of the arena and the sweat of the locker room is usually overpowering, but now all he can focus on is the beautiful Russian man eating him out. He can’t stop the sounds he’s making with each breath he takes.

Ilya loves Shane’s noises and would spend the rest of his life on keeping those noises coming. His own cock, though, would like a turn to make Shane cry. He lets go of Shane – who whimpers – and grabs the lube and a condom from his laptop bag.

“Get me ready for you,” Ilya commands. Shane turns around and sees the condom. He rips it open, kneels between his legs and rolls it on. Then he reaches for the lube, pumps a couple times onto his hand, then spreads it over Ilya’s length. He spends time using his hands to give Ilya pleasure.

“Sit on me.”

Shane straddles him, hands on Ilya’s shoulders, and slowly sinks down on him. They groan in unison and meet for a deep kiss once Shane is fully seated. He rolls his hips in circles, then back and forth. Ilya’s hands are on Shane’s ass, not setting the pace, just resting. He’s looking into Shane’s eyes then down to the C on his chest. Ilya leans forward and bites at the C. Shane’s rolls turn into bounces, which morphs into his body undulating. Ilya feels the heat and the tightness on his sensitive skin, sinking into the feeling of pleasure, and wanting nothing more than to chase.

Ilya tries to pump up into Shane, but the bench doesn’t give him the right leverage. When Shane takes a pause to catch his breath and roll his hips, Ilya capitalizes on the opening and says, “Up, now.”

Shane gets off, Ilya stands up, then bends Shane over so his hands are on the bench. Ilya stands behind him and slides back in while staring the #24 HOLLANDER. They are panting, close to the edge, and Ilya doesn’t stop thrusting into him.

“Do you have any idea how lucky I am? Fucking a King in his throne room… Everyone wants this. But only I get it. This is mine,” Ilya murmurs. Shane cries out, “Yours… yours.”

“You do not come. We cannot make mess. I will finish inside you. You will finish in my mouth. Yes?” Ilya punctuates each sentence with a thrust.

“Fuck. Yes, fuck. I’m so close…”

-

Ilya chases his own release, staring at the jersey, watching Shane buck and shiver, and listening to his beautiful sounds. It’s perfect. He grunts, stills, and fills the condom. He thrusts a bit more to get every drop out. Shane is shaking with need when Ilya pulls out and disposes of the condom. Shane stands up and watches him, eyes gone, looking helpless. He goes to his knees in front of Shane and expertly takes Shane’s whole length in one go. He hollows out his cheeks and bobs his head, swiping his tongue under his cock to his tip.

“Fuck, Ilya, I’m gonna –” Shane’s voice cuts off as he comes down his throat with a cry. Ilya makes sure he’s clean and overstimulated before finally letting him go. Ilya stands up and kisses Shane, tasting like sex. They stay there for just a moment, knowing someone with a key could come by anytime. Shane slowly takes the jersey off and hangs it back in his locker. Ilya lightly slaps Shane’s ass cheek, earning a surprised yelp. They both giggle. They gather their clothing and leave them on the bench before heading to the showers.

They take shower heads right next to each other and purposefully bump into each other, touch each other, and trade kisses, not able to help themselves. Once they are clean, they dry each other off, staring at each other with soft eyes.

They get dressed in comfortable silence, unlock the door, swing it open and find Comeau and Drapeau reaching for the previously closed door. They stop short, surprised.

-

“Hey guys, what are you doing here so early?” Shane asks, going for casual.

“Going to hit the gym for light cardio. What are you doing here?” Comeau asks.

“Uh, we were filming a social media video in the locker room. Reebok,” Shane adds and rolls his eyes to try and demonstrate how annoying this fake video is.

“All good, Hollywood,” Comeau says patting his shoulder as he walks past him into the locker room. Shane hates that nickname. Drapeau follows, tossing a coffee cup into the tall garbage can by the door. He pauses mid-stride while Shane and Ilya step out.

“No way!” Drapeau yells. Three heads turn to face him.

“There’s a fucking condom in here!! One of the boys has been holding out on us!! Cap, was anyone here before you guys got here?”

Shane’s heart is in his throat. He can’t trust his voice, so he opts to shake his head and give a shrug.

“Take a pic and send it to the group chat! We’ll find out who it is,” Comeau says with a huge smile.

Out of view of the two Metros players, Ilya grabs Shane’s wrist and pulls him forward. They exit and make it to the vehicle without talking. Ilya takes the driver’s seat and once both doors close shut, he faces Shane.

“I am so sorry I did not think to hide the condom better,” Ilya immediately apologizes and looks scared with his wide eyes and shallow breaths. Shane’s heart softens at Ilya’s earnestness.

“It’s okay. Actually. It’s funny? I was scared at first, too, but those two idiots are so homophobic they didn’t even consider that we were the ones using the condom,” Shane giggles. He feels a little hysterical and the giggles turn into full on laughs.

-

Ilya’s stress response recedes quickly and he’s able to join Shane in the laughter. Now that he knows Shane is okay, he can appreciate how ridiculous it is that they left a room with a visible condom and Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum assume it was someone else. After wiping the tears from their eyes, Ilya drives them back to Shane’s apartment.

Ilya had ordered groceries and they are waiting in front of the door. They take them in and Ilya makes himself a BLT on focaccia. Shane pulls out one of his pre-packaged nutrition-plan approved lunch meals. They sit at the dining room table to eat together.

“What’s your favourite city to play in?” Ilya asks before taking a large bite.

“Well, besides Montreal, I like Ottawa, ‘cuz it’s my hometown. New York is nice. Tampa. Mainly cities in the Eastern time zone so I don’t have to worry about jet lag.”

Ilya nods along, chewing thoughtfully.

“Tell me about your family,” Shane prompts. Ilya swallows and puts his sandwich down.

“Ah. Not a very nice story. Older brother is a drug-addict bully police officer. He has a wife and a niece I never see… My father has dementia and he’s probably not going to last much longer… he is also a bully, though. Always cruel. He’s easier to deal with now that he forgets who I am. But yes, I left Moscow to get away from them. Was not safe for me,” Ilya explains. He’s a little shocked that he not only shared, but he wanted to share. The only other person who knows any of this is Svetlana.

“That’s awful. And… your mother?” Shane asks tentatively.

“Dead. Accident. She was hit by a drunk driver.”

“When?”

Ilya was pleasantly surprised at the question. Most people give their condolences and say they are sorry. Ilya hates receiving both of those things when it comes to his mother. They did not know her. Their feelings are not real. But Shane did not do that. He asked for more information. Adorable.

“I was twelve. She was on her way to pick me up from hockey,” Ilya says quietly, swallowing a lump in his throat. Shane’s eyes widen and are filled with… not pity… more like grief?

“Fuck. That’s why you stopped playing, isn’t it?” Shane guesses, his voice solemn. Ilya merely nods, takes a moment to calm his nervous system, and then bites into his sandwich again. Shane follows his lead and eats his meal. When Ilya is calm, he says, “This necklace belonged to her. When I left Russia, I needed to have something of hers with me. I never wore it there, and I’ve never taken it off since I got on the plane.”

Shane smiles, a kind and soft look in his eyes, as he says, “That’s beautiful. You clearly loved her very much. She sounds special.”

“She was beautiful and kind. Would sing off-key while she cooked. She came to every one of my games. Was convinced I would go to MLH,” he says with a genuine smirk. Shane smiles back.

“Not the KHL?”

“That is what my father wanted. My mother wanted me to be free of him, I think.”

“I see… We would have been drafted the same year. You would have been chosen by Boston. Is that why they’re your favourite team?”

“I would be in Montreal, first draft pick of course. You would be in Boston. Second-best team in the league after Montreal where I am Captain,” he ragebaits him.

“Not a chance! I’m definitely still the first draft pick. I can see you as a Captain, though. Boston’s captain is old. It would have been fun to play against someone as fast as me.”

“Faster.”

“No! I beat you at practice by 0.01! That counts!”

“Was not best two out of three, so does not count!”

They fall into an enjoyable argument that brings them to the bed for the pre-game nap. They both strip down to their boxers before getting under the covers.

“JUST sleep! I need to rest before the game. We already came twice today. You can stay and we can cuddle but nothing else!” Shane says sternly.

Ilya raises his hands in complete innocence. “Just sleep! I promise. But maybe a third orgasm after the game?”

Shane smiles.

“Well, we’re going to the club with the team after, but if we get back home before midnight, I suppose we can have a third. Otherwise, it would count as a Friday orgasm.”

“A Friday orgasm. Wow. Your brain is a beautiful thing, Shane.”

“Shut up! Now move your arm,” Shane demands and then snuggles into the nook. He falls asleep in minutes. Ilya knows this was his idea but he is happy that Shane is into it since they’ve never just cuddled without having sex first. Could this mean Shane also wants more? With this pleasant thought bouncing around his head, Ilya succumbs to sleep not long after.

-

In the locker room before the game, the guys are buzzing about the condom. No one is fessing up much to everyone’s confusion.

“You are a legend, whoever you are! Why not brag?” JJ calls out, looking around the room. Shane is tying his skates methodically and ignoring how just this morning he was sitting right here on Ilya’s dick. He can feel the phantom stretch and fullness, his cock plumping up at the thought. He tries to focus on his skates, and then the tape on his stick. Normal pre-game ritual stuff. Nothing to see here.

“Who else has had sex in here? We all know Pike did,” JJ continues. “I may have brought a puck bunny here last season,” he says with a wink.

“I ate my girlfriend out in my rookie year,” Andropov adds. A few more guys chime in with their experiences, but still, no one admits to being the condom owner.

Hayden pipes up with, “Hey, maybe it wasn’t even one of us! Maybe one of the maintenance staff brought a date in here!”

Who knew Hayden Pike would be an accidental ally? Shane breathes a sigh of relief as the team all agree that that must be what happened. With no suspicion on him, Shane can calm himself and get his head back in the game.

-

The game against Boston is a lot of fun to watch. Ilya cheers for Shane specifically, and the Raiders more broadly. Luckily for him, Shane scores twice (Montreal’s only goals) and Boston wins with three goals, so he does a lot of celebrating.

-

The Metros locker room is dejected after that loss but JJ, who was recently made Alternate Captain, decides he is in charge of team morale.

“We’re going to La Mer! Capitaine, want to join us?” JJ offers, knowing he’ll say no. Which means he’s taken by surprise when Shane says yes.

“Fuck yes! First round is on the Capitaine!” JJ squeals and the room cheers like they always do for free alcohol. Shane texts Ilya the name of the club. Then he pulls up Instagram for the first time in a long time, finds @CliffMarleau7, and sends a message. He knows Marleau from the Olympics and All-Stars even if they aren’t close.

@ShaneHollanderHockey24: Hey man, great game. The team is heading to La Mer after. You guys should come out, too. Don’t tell my team I invited you, though. I might be beheaded for treason.

@CliffMarleau7: Hollander! You were a beast today. Great game. Fuck yeah, we were trying to pick a spot. See ya

Ilya is going to be so excited, Shane thinks with a warm glow radiating from his chest.

-

Shane finds Ilya in the parking lot, as usual. Ilya changed into his club outfit, a black tank and dark jeans with a gold belt to match his necklace. His winter jacket is in the back seat. Shane wants to march him straight home, but he promised him a night out. Shane is wearing a navy silk button down with a deep V and black jeans. They head to the club and find nearby parking.

“I’m not going to drink tonight; I’ll drive us back to my place,” Shane says as they exit the car without their jackets and hurry to the front where the bouncer is checking IDs to a long line of waiting guests. It’s Montreal so Shane doesn’t even need to explain his presence. The bouncer smiles wide and lets him and Ilya inside. They see him speak into a walkie-talkie before the door closes and Shane assumes he’s warning the bar and other security staff that Metros are incoming. Before they get too far, the bar manager finds Shane and ushers him into a private VIP section. It’s up a short flight of stairs and looks over the dance floor and bar. There are couches, chairs, and tables, as well as an empty space for dancing if they don’t want the crowd. Ilya is perusing the drink menu, probably hoping for real vodka. Next to their section is another private booth balcony separated by a railing. That area is empty for now, but Shane leans into the bar manager’s ear and warns that Boston is probably coming, too, and she should leave this section vacant for them. She nods, perhaps a little surprised that the Captain of the Montreal Metros is doing something nice for enemy Boston but has the sense not to comment out loud.

Shane takes a seat next to Ilya, orders a ginger ale while Ilya orders a glass of whiskey, apparently not finding a worthy vodka. The rest of the team trickle in over the next ten minutes and soon enough the music is blaring, the base is vibrating Shane’s bones unpleasantly, and he grips his ginger ale tighter than necessary.

-

Ilya sees his discomfort and tries to distract him.

“I told you Boston would win.” Ilya says, smirking and nudging Shane’s foot with his own. This does get a reaction out of Shane, but maybe not the one he expected. Shane looks him in the eyes and Ilya sees his pupils dilate.

“Looks like you won the bet,” Shane says with a knowing smile.

“Tomorrow just got a lot more interesting, I think,” Ilya says with a low voice.

Andropov takes a seat in the chair opposite them and says hello to Ilya in Russian. Ilya is delighted and they start a whole conversation, sharing a relief to be speaking their first language.

-

Shane leaves them to it for a moment and stands next to JJ who’s regaling some tale to the rookies. When he’s done, the rooks take off to the dance floor looking determined.

“Now, Capitaine, why is your P.A. here with you? Some of the guys have been asking,” JJ asks, sheepishly.

“We’re friends. Why not? People bring friends all the time to these things,” Shane says, frowning.

“Of course! It’s just, you never have before. I didn’t realize you were also friends, thought he just worked for you,” JJ says, probing.

“Hard to spend this much time together and not become friends, considering we’re also the same age,” Shane justifies and JJ accepts this without further protest. Just then, a crowd of people arrive on the other side of the railing. The Raiders are in the adjoining booth.

“What the fuck!” Comeau swears, charging up to the railing partition. “This is a Metros club, go celebrate somewhere else!”

Shane hurries next to Comeau and puts a restraining hand on his shoulder.

“Dude, it’s fine, we’re not on the ice, who gives a shit?”

Comeau’s eyes widen as if Shane has betrayed him. Cliff Marleau and Vic St-Simon are watching this exchange with amused smiles.

“I didn’t realize Montreal was full of sore losers, can’t even share this nice club with your visitors?” St-Simon teases and Comeau scowls more. Shane turns Comeau around and pushes him away from the divide. Some of the other Metros come up, a mix of friendliness and hostility. The Raiders, on the other hand, look genuinely happy to see them. There’s something at the back of Shane’s head. This team. It looks like they are more cohesive than his own fractured team. Everyone looks content, even with Montreal steps away. Shane wonders again what it would be like to be on a team where everyone got along.

Andropov and Ilya come up behind Shane, and Shane introduces Ilya to Cliff and Vic.

“This is my friend, Ilya. Somehow, he’s a Boston fan,” Shane says with fake disappointment. The guys laugh and shake Ilya’s hand over the railing.

“Thank you for winning tonight. I had bet with Shane, and I won,” Ilya says, smugly. Cliff smiles and shakes Ilya’s shoulder.

“Hell yeah, man! Glad we could help. But hey, why do you look familiar?” Cliff’s face is one of confusion, like he’s trying to place where he could possibly know Shane’s Russian friend from.

“I was Sergei Vetrov’s Personal Assistant in Boston a couple years ago. He was at many Raider’s charity events, you probably saw me with him,” Ilya explains.

“Oh shit! Well, no wonder you’re a Boston fan, then. That’s awesome, man. So, are you Shane’s P.A. then?”

“Yes, I get to boss around Montreal Captain. Is quite fun,” Ilya jokes. Shane squirms a little, because he does in fact like it when Ilya bosses him around. He tries not to get hard in his tight jeans.

Eventually, Ilya, JJ, Andropov, and some of the Raiders hit the dance floor.

🎶Comin' out of my cage and I've been doin' just fine
Gotta, gotta be down because I want it all 🎶

Shane has no interest in dancing until he sees Ilya dancing with a woman within two seconds flat. His hands are on her waist; they are talking into each other’s ears and are moving their hips together to the beat.

🎶It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this?
It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss 🎶

Shane can hear his heartbeat over the music and is unsure if his vision goes red or if the club lights are red. Either way, he is feeling many things he should not be feeling. She’s now put her arms around his neck. Shane is gripping the railing of the balcony.

🎶Now I'm falling asleep and she's calling a cab
While he's having a smoke and she's taking a drag
Now they're goin' to bed and my stomach is sick
And it's all in my head, but she's touching his 🎶

Shane needs to get it together. But of course, this stupid song has just given the woman an idea because she’s touching his –

🎶chest now
He takes off her dress now
Let me go
And I just can't look, it's killing me
And taking control 🎶

At least he doesn’t have to see that. It’s not like he’s feeling –

🎶Jealousy
Turning saints into the sea-- 🎶

“Hey Cap!” Clarkson startles him out of his ridiculous spiral and sidles next to him leaning over the balcony. “You’re not a big dancer, either?”

“No,” Shane says automatically, but his eyes barely leave Ilya’s moving body. Maybe if he didn’t have to worry about being outed, he wouldn’t hate dancing if he was being led by Ilya. Ilya’s hands on his waist, moving him to the beat. Shane’s arms around his neck. They could trade kisses. Maybe Ilya turns him around and keeps his hands on him while they grind together. Shane doesn’t like dancing with women. But maybe he’d like dancing with Ilya. He swallows this thought.

-

Ilya glances up and catches Shane’s intense glare. He hopes he’s making Shane a little jealous. Ilya wants Shane to take out all his frustrations on his body later. He has no desire to go home with the girl in his arms, he certainly doesn’t plan on kissing her. He likes dancing, he likes physical touch, but he can’t deny it would be even better if Shane were the one in his arms.

Ilya brings the girl to the bar and orders them both a drink, hoping Shane is watching upstairs. Cliff meets him at the bar and they chat about Boston. Cliff is easy going, funny, and gives off golden retriever energy. He might need a bit of help with the ladies, but Ilya has an idea to help his new friend. He purposely ignores the girl, who is clearly annoyed and steps in between them. She tries to lean into Ilya first, but he quickly introduces Cliff, Right Wing and Alternate Captain of the Boston Raiders, and she flirts with him shamelessly while glancing at Ilya in provocation. Ilya gives them both a cheers and leaves the girl in Cliff’s hopefully capable hands. He’s nothing if not a good wingman. Cliff smiles at him over her head and gives a subtle nod.

Ilya brings his drink and a new ginger ale up to the balcony. Shane has moved from the railing and is now sitting at a high top, alone.

Ilya takes the chair across from him and slides the ginger ale to Shane’s hand, watching his face the entire time.

“Have fun dancing?” Shane says, attempting neutrality. Ilya can see the tense jaw and shoulder muscles, though, giving him away.

“Of course. Would have been more fun with someone else in my arms, though,” he says as low as he can so only Shane can hear him.

“You seemed happy enough. Where is she?” Shane is losing composure fast.

“With Marleau,” Ilya says, then nudges Shane with his foot under the table. Shane finally looks him in the eye.

-

Shane doesn’t know if he’s angry, hurt, or both. He shouldn’t feel anything, of course. This is just a sexual arrangement. If Ilya is losing interest in it, there’s nothing Shane can do. Maybe he shouldn’t have offered to extend it. Maybe Ilya couldn’t wait for it to be over…

-

“You are thinking very loudly over there,” Ilya says with a frown. Did he push it too far? When Shane doesn’t respond beyond taking a sip of ginger ale, Ilya scoots over to the chair closest to Shane and moves it closer still.

“Hey. I’m sorry. I just wanted to make you a little jealous, I didn’t want to cause any pain,” he says quietly.

“Why would I be jealous?” Shane says quickly, trying to put his guards up. Ilya sees right through him, of course.

“Exactly, nothing to be jealous of because you know I am going home with you, yes?” Ilya leans in and speaks in Shane’s ear, making him shudder and melt a little.
Before he can think of a response, JJ, St-Simon, and Marleau come up the stairs with fresh drinks and women hanging off them, chatting in French. Ilya leans back smoothly as if nothing out of the ordinary is happening. The girl he was dancing with is still with Cliff, and Shane, the menace, moves his foot next to Ilya’s and doesn’t pull it away. The girl keeps eyeing Ilya as if to make him jealous. Ilya barely spares her a glance.

“Okay Capitaine, these two are cool, and not just because they speak French,” JJ says, giving them his easily earned blessing. JJ loves everyone. Shane proceeds to have a very enjoyable ten minutes, laughing and feeling comfortable with all the guys at the table. This is rare for Shane, but it does spark that question again. Whether other teams were as toxic as Montreal could be sometimes. What if he had a team full of Haydens, JJs, Vics, Cliffs, and Ilyas? Shane doesn’t even notice he lumped Ilya in the hockey player category.

After the ten-minute mark, though, the ladies were getting antsy, and handsy, and the conversation broke down so they could chat and make out. Suddenly, Shane was less comfortable.

Ilya makes a big display of stretching and yawning widely.

“Tomorrow’s flight is at 10am, you need to leave your apartment by 7 to get through traffic to airport.”

Shane looks at the time: 11:30pm. He nods, stands up, pushing his chair back.

“It was a fun time, boys! I’m heading out. Enjoy your night.” The guys smile at him, and Cliff shakes his hand.

“Always a pleasure, Hollander. I’ll see you at All-Stars again this year!”

“I don’t know, I think you being there last year was more of a pity vote…” Shane chirps.

“Fuck you! Hey Rozy, hit me up next time you’re in Boston!” He quickly adds Ilya’s number to his phone and sends him a message.

Ilya smiles and salutes him. Shane quickly says bye to other team members as he passes them.

-

In the car, Shane asks about the poll.

“Is coming along! I have most of the questions and a list with all hockey player email addresses.”

“But how do we make sure they fill it out honestly? Or, at all?”

“I may or may not have spoofed the player’s union e-mail address… and gotten the personal emails for all the players from the union… so it will look like super-secret Union business, which will hopefully make them be more honest.”

“I’m impressed and worried about the legality,” Shane frowns as he makes his way through a roundabout.

“I did say the less you know, the better. Curiosity kills the kitty, yes?”

““Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back” is the full saying,” Shane responds. “I just don’t want you to get in trouble with your work permit…”

“Is not my first time doing something like this. I know how to cover tracks. Do not worry.”

“Worrying is like my default state, you know that,” Shane jokes.

“True, my angry kitten was very jealous that I was dancing with someone else. Worried I might stray away, hm?” Ilya gently teases, placing a hand on Shane’s thigh and squeezing.

“Of course not,” Shane says quickly. Then relents. “Well, okay. Yes, I was jealous. It just sucks that I can’t dance with a guy without it being international news. I don’t like dancing with women. But I don’t know. Maybe I’d like dancing with a guy.” Shane turns pink at this admission. Ilya rewards him with another squeeze.

“And who would you have chosen to dance with, hm? Cliff is handsome, not a terrible dancer,” Ilya says as if he doesn’t already know the answer. Shane snorts.

“You looked like you knew what you were doing out there,” Shane says quietly.

“I love dancing. Maybe I teach you one day, yes? Can be your cardio workout,” Ilya offers, half serious.

-

Back upstairs, Shane turns on a random dance club playlist. “You chose the locker room and here, right? I choose position. Show me how you’d dance with me, if we were strangers and met at a club,” Shane says, very courageously, he thinks. Ilya smiles wickedly and stalks towards him.

🎶It's getting late, I'm making my way over to my favorite place
I gotta get my body moving, shake the stress away
I wasn't looking for nobody when you looked my way
Possible candidate, yeah 🎶

Ilya circles around Shane, clearly checking him out and landing on his eyes when he faces him again. He steps closer, tentatively placing his hands on Shane’s waist. Shane’s hands rest on Ilya’s biceps as he waits for the next instruction.

🎶Do you know what you started? I just came here to party
But now we're rockin' on the dance floor, actin' naughty
Your hands around my waist just let the music play
We're hand in hand, chest to chest, and now we're face to face 🎶

Ilya brings their chests together, leans his forehead against Shane’s, and moves their hips in tandem. Shane is a little stiff, but he lets Ilya lead and eventually loosens up a bit. They breathe the same air, and Shane’s hands move up to Ilya’s neck.

🎶I wanna take you away
Let's escape into the music
DJ, let it play 🎶

Shane does get lost in the music. He enjoys the feeling of being surrounded by Ilya, of moving with him to the beat, of feeling his lips on Shane’s neck. Ilya’s hands slip down to cup his ass, still controlling their movement. Just like his daydream from earlier, Ilya turns him around to face away from him. He presses their bodies together, bends their knees, and starts grinding. Shane doesn’t know what to do with his hands, so he places them on top of Ilya’s which haven’t let go of Shane’s hips. Ilya’s neck kisses resume and travel up ‘til he’s sucking on Shane’s earlobe.

🎶Don't you feel the passion ready to explode?
What goes on between us no one has to know
This is a private show 🎶

That’s right. No one has to know. They can keep doing this. Please let them keep doing this.

-

🎶 Do you know what you started? I just came here to party
But now we're rockin' on the dance floor, actin' naughty 🎶

Ilya is incandescently happy to be dancing with Shane, even if it’s not in front of an entire club. He lets go of Shane’s earlobe and pushes Shane’s shirt up. He takes the hint and removes it the rest of the way. Ilya does the same with his shirt. He unzips Shane’s jeans and slides a hand in to say hello. Shane’s plump dick hardens more as a welcome. They don’t stop dancing. He pulls down on Shane’s jeans to communicate he wants them off. He takes his own pants off as well. Naughty indeed.

He turns Shane around to face him again, placing a leg between Shane’s and indicating for Shane to do the same for him. Ilya’s hands are on the waistband of Shane’s boxers as he moves their hips in circles, providing pressure and friction on their now fully hard cocks. Shane’s eyes look glassy and his mouth is open, panting. He licks his lips and stares at Ilya’s.

He takes the obvious hint and kisses him, never stopping dancing.

🎶Like the way you do this
Keep on rockin' to it
Please don't stop the, please don't stop the, please don't stop the music 🎶

His hands trail up to Shane’s neck, deepening the kiss. Shane kept the rhythm going even without Ilya’s hands to guide him.

“Is this a good first dance, sweetheart?” he whispers into Shane’s ear. Shane nods.

“I’d be begging to go home with you,” Shane admits in his aroused state much to Ilya’s pleasure.

“I like the idea of you begging. Maybe we go upstairs now, yes? Get you so close until you are begging for my cock?” Ilya speaks low, licking his earlobe when he’s done. Shane shivers and nods again.

Before running upstairs, Shane turns off the music as a new song starts to play.

-

Ilya crawls under the covers and holds the blanket open so Shane can get in, too. Ilya wraps Shane in his arms, tight, pinning his arms to his side. Their kiss is rough, biting each other’s lips. Ilya rolls on top of Shane and ruts into him. He wants Shane to know how crazy he makes him.

-

Pinned in place and being humped by Ilya Rozanov is so fucking hot. He tries to rub against him but Ilya’s full body weight is making this difficult.

“Did you enjoy meeting Boston tonight?” Shane asks between kisses. Ilya doesn’t stop moving but he does pull his face back slightly.

“Very much. Did you. Did you invite them?” Ilya asks in wonder.

“Yeah. Thought you would like it. I sent Cliff an Instagram message.”

“Fuck, Shane. Too good to me. Risked making your team angry for me. How should I reward you, hm?” He kisses Shane’s face, focusing on his freckles. Shane smiles.

“How about a massage? Um, there’s oil in the nightstand.”

“Ahhhh massage with happy ending, yes?” Ilya looks quite pleased with this idea. He unpins Shane and flips him to his stomach. He grabs the oil and starts with Shane’s neck and shoulders. Shane sighs from the touch. Ilya moves down to his shoulder blades and back muscles. He gives his biceps some attention and purposely skips over Shane’s ass, still covered by his boxers. He massages his thighs, his calves, then his feet. Shane’s mind is pleasantly fuzzy. Relaxation massages are so much nicer than physiotherapy ones. Ilya finally slides off Shane’s boxers and massages his glutes.

He spreads his cheeks, adds lube to his fingers, and slides two in to start since he was still a little loose from this morning’s activities and the nice massage he just gave. It doesn’t take long to get Shane ready and he quickly takes his own briefs off and puts on the condom. He adds more oil to his hands, massages his back again, and slides his cock into Shane. He moves very slow and deliberate, in sync with the motion of the massage.

Shane is moaning and trying to lift his hips for more friction, frustrated with the slow pace. Ilya doesn’t take the bait and simply continues his slow torture (gentle massage).

“Fuck me, please,” Shane whines.

“I am, what, you don’t like what I’m doing?” Ilya asks, never changing pace.

“Faster, deeper, harder,” Shane starts to plead but Ilya only hums.

“You will need to ask me nicer than that.”

“Please fuck me hard, I can take it,” Shane tries.

“Only one please? Does not sound like you mean it,” Ilya teases, changing his angle slightly but keeping the same evil pace.

“Please, I need it so bad, please!”

“What do you need?”

“Fuck. I need you. I need you to fuck me good. Want to feel your cock for days. Pretty please, can I have it? Can you go fast and hard, please?” Shane rambles, all sense of dignity gone.

“What lovely begging. Yes, I give you what you need now,” Ilya praises and on the next breath slams Shane into the mattress as promised. He’s moving fast, eliciting grunts from Shane with each thrust.

“All fours, now,” Ilya commands and Shane gets into position without Ilya ever leaving him. And now Shane can fuck back with each thrust. It doesn’t take long after that, Shane and Ilya both come at pretty much the same moment if their loud vocalizations are anything to go by. When Ilya stills, he plasters Shane’s back with kisses.

-

The usual clean up ensues, the sheets are changed, and they crawl back into bed. Shane checks the time.

“It’s 1:30am. This counts as a Friday orgasm.”

“How many times can you come in one day?”

“I don’t know, three times?”

“Ohhh I think you can do better than that. Maybe we test that one day,” Ilya says, again slipping up and assuming this thing will continue. But Shane doesn’t look disturbed, instead, he smiles and rolls over taking Ilya’s arm with him so Ilya can spoon him.

“G’night, Ilya,” Shane says, sleepily.

“Goodnight, Shane.”

Chapter End Notes

Okay I promise the real conversation WILL happen on the Sunday! No fake outs!

Who's excited for the gala next chapter?

Thank you for reading <3

Lyrics:
Mr. Brightside - The Killers
Please Don't Stop the Music - Rihanna

Chapter 12: Gala

Chapter Summary

Previously on "P.A. Wanted": The boys extend the arrangement until Sunday and Shane invites the Raiders to a club so he can introduce Ilya to Cliff Marleau.

On today's episode: The Men's Health Gala!

Chapter Notes

They wake too early Friday morning to the alarm clock, both squeezing tightly before sitting up and stretching. Ilya is about to hit the shower first when he notices Shane running a hand through his hair with an expression on his face like he forgot to study for a test.

“What is it?”

“I didn’t pack. I always pack the day before a morning flight. I didn’t pack,” Shane repeats, monotonously. But it doesn’t sound bored, it sounds fearful.

“Ah, that is because you have a P.A. who now knows exactly what you pack. It is ready. The blue carry-on and the garment above it are yours. The black carry-on and other garment bag is mine. You can check it to make sure it is all there.”

Shane’s hand drops from his hair and he looks at Ilya like he declared school was cancelled. He rushes into the closet to check the luggage and Ilya waits before going into the shower to make sure Shane is okay.

He storms out of the closet and beelines to Ilya, pushing him back against the bathroom door and kisses the daylights out of him. Ilya hums his amusement and when they come up for air, he whispers, “Maybe you show me just how happy you are in the shower on your knees, hm?”

Shane smiles and joins him in the shower.

-

At the gate they find JJ already waiting.

“Capitaine! Rozanov!”

The flight gets delayed by half an hour, so JJ decides they should play 21 Questions to pass the time.

They guess Shane’s “Thing” within less than 10 questions (The Cup, so unoriginal).

They guess JJ’s “Person” in about 18 questions (Rose Landry, movie star).

But Ilya stumps them both with his “Thing”: blini.

“That’s not fair! I should have gotten the point when I said pancakes!”

“No, is Russian pancakes, made differently!”

“I’m with Shane, you can’t use other languages, otherwise we’ll stump you with French words!”

“If the French word was Macaron that would be okay because it is the name of a food that happens to be French! Same with blini in Russian.”

The debate persists until they finally board the plane. Shane and Ilya’s seats are next to each other, but JJ is a few rows back.

Ilya mollifies Shane by inviting him to a Russian restaurant that serves blini.

“This way you can see that they are different than normal pancakes. Also delicious.”

“Fine, but if it tastes exactly the same, I get the point.”

“Yes, yes, you will get the point in the competitive game of 21 Questions,” Ilya teases and Shane smiles at his willingness to go along with it.

They part ways, with JJ going to the hotel that the Metros will be staying at the following day while Shane and Ilya have a suite in a hotel that is only a block from the event. They each have their own room to get ready in, much to Shane’s annoyance. Why couldn’t Ilya get ready in here? The room is big enough.

Shane is sporting a classic black and white tuxedo with black bow tie. The only splash of colour is in the form of a burgundy pocket square. His hair is waxed into an artfully tousled look, he hopes.

He exits to the main room, checks his Rolex, and sees they only have 5 minutes before the car is set to arrive downstairs. Even though the venue is close, they want to avoid bringing winter coats.

“Rozanov? You almost ready?”

The door opens and Ilya strides out looking like a fucking model, taking Shane’s breath away. Ilya is wearing a black tux, black shirt, and a dark teal tie and pocket square that is somehow the same colour as his eyes. Shane can’t stop staring.

“Is good, yes?” Ilya says, enjoying the reaction he’s getting from Shane. Mission accomplished, he thinks.

“Uh, ya. The hard part won’t be finding a secluded spot to kiss you as the winner of the bet,” Shane says, taking an unconscious step forward. Ilya matches him.

“And what will be the hard part?” Ilya asks suggestively, coming even closer.

“Keeping my fucking hands off you the entire night,” Shane says with a swallow, clenching his fists to stop himself from touching him right now.

“That will be half the fun. And I get to whisper in your ear allll night to make sure you know everyone’s names,” Ilya whispers in his ear. Shane shivers and leans into Ilya’s forehead. A beep from Ilya’s watch tells them it’s time to head downstairs.

-

It’s no Met Gala, but it’s still a stylish event with a red carpet and press. When Shane exits the car, he’s met with camera flashes. Ilya exits on the other side and walks around the car. Shane walks the middle of the carpet, smiling and waving as he heads inside. Ilya walks on the side of the carpet, which tells the photographers he’s not a VIP, just an aide. A very handsome aide. A couple flashes still find him.

They enter the venue, decorated like an ice castle with blue and silver drapery, crystals everywhere, and festive mistletoe that adds a touch of warmth. Ilya thinks it looks like a high school TV show prom on steroids. He walks a step behind Shane, who’s wandering, taking it all in. They see a silent auction along one wall, high top tables scattered around, a dance floor, and servers walking around with champagne flutes and hors d’oeuvres. There’s also a bar on the back wall where Ilya spots JJ. He leans into Shane’s ear.

“Boiziau is at the bar,” he says in a low voice, just above a whisper. He thinks Shane suppresses a shudder. He looks over and spots his friend, and they make their way over.

“Hey JJ,” Shane says when they get close. JJ spins around with a huge smile on his handsome face. JJ is wearing a black and white tuxedo like Shane, but his pocket square is silver.

“Capitaine! I’m getting myself a drink, want anything stronger than a ginger ale?” He doesn’t say it like he’s teasing Shane, which Ilya appreciates.

“Um, ya, a Cranberry Mule? It doesn’t have alcohol. Might have a champagne later.” JJ nods then looks to Ilya.

“And you?”

“Technically I am working, so no alcohol for me. Just a coke.”

“You got it, mon frère!”

They chit chat and Ilya is pleased that he’s not ignored. Of course, he’s here as a P.A. so it would be understandable for him to be in the background and not part of the conversation. But JJ is including him and Shane is not hiding him at all, asking his opinion on things.

Ilya hasn’t forgotten his job, though. He has one eye on the crowd to make sure Shane doesn’t miss saying hello to someone important. In the next lull, Ilya says, “Scott Hunter is checking out the silent auction if you wanted to go say hello.” JJ perks up, too.

“For sure, let’s go,” says Shane. They head over with the occasional stop to shake hands with someone, Ilya whispering names in his ear when he can.

Shane never feels comfortable at these stuffy events. Social gatherings with strangers have never been a strength of his, but with Ilya there to let him know who he’s about to talk to, he has a moment to gather his thoughts before saying hello. For once, he doesn’t feel like he’s a step behind.

They finally make their way through the crowd and see Hunter near one end of the silent auction, holding a flute of champagne. He looks up when he senses people approaching and smiles when he recognizes who it is.

“Hollander! Boiziau, nice to see some friendly faces.” He shakes their hands.

“Friendly off the ice, anyway,” JJ says with a laugh and they cheers their glasses.

“Anything good in the auction?” Shane asks.

“Lots of week-long vacation packages on yachts and private islands. There’s a painting by an up-and-coming artist that I can’t say I understand but there are lots of bids already. Who’s your friend, I don’t think we’ve met?” Hunter asks when he notices Ilya behind Shane.

“This is my Personal Assistant, Ilya Rozanov. Ilya, Scott Hunter.” Ilya reaches out a hand to shake.

-

“Is nice to meet you, Captain,” Ilya says, holding back a “you’re so old” joke. Shane better show appreciation for his restraint later…

“You too,” he says, returning the handshake with a squeeze.

“What happened to your suit, Hunter?” JJ asks, noticing some wet spots on his dark tux.

“Oh, I was standing next to the door to the kitchen like an idiot. It swung open when a server came out and I spilled my champagne,” he says, blushing and not looking anyone in the eye. Ilya internally narrows his eyes, possibly catching a vibe. He has a very good radar for these things.

Shane and JJ make the appropriate responses, and they start to walk down the silent auction tables together with Hunter. Ilya keeps his eyes peeled for other VIPs. He spots a New York socialite in her mid-twenties that was in the book heading towards them, eyes locked in on the three hockey players. Yvette Moore, the daughter of some CEO. He leans in again and shares the info for their benefit.

“What a beautiful sight! Three MLH Captains to entertain me. Yvette Moore,” she says, holding out a hand. JJ scoops her hand up and presses a kiss to the back of it like a true gentleman. She laughs encouragingly and he says, “JJ, Shane, Scott, and our friend Ilya,” nodding his head at each man. She sweeps her approving gaze across them, as if she’s determining which one she’ll devour tonight. Then her stare lands on Ilya. She drops her hand out of JJ’s grasp and steps towards Ilya.

“And what position do you play?” She asks, the hint of a wink in her eye.

“I am Mr. Hollander’s Personal Assistant,” he says in his charming tone of voice.
“What a waste. With a body and a face like that, you should be modelling. If you decide to change careers, let me know and I can hook you up with a modelling agent.”

Ilya smiles appreciatively and notices Shane’s miniscule scowl. So adorable. But he knows from last night that making Shane jealous is not the play.

“Thank you, I will keep this in mind. Mr. Hollander, the VP of Editorial is over there, if you would like to say hello.”

Shane’s mood lifts immediately. “Yes, of course. Yvette, boys, I’ll see you later,” he extricates himself from the social situation, leaving Yvette to JJ and Hunter.

Shane says hi to Daniel Henderson, VP of Editorial at Men’s Health, and they make easy chit chat about the upcoming article. Before the conversation can come to an awkward lull, Ilya whispers about another person he should say hello to. Daniel wishes him well and they step away.

The music from the live orchestra on the eastern balcony has changed from slow ambiance to a livelier tune. Couples flood the dance floor, and single people look around to find a willing partner. Unfortunately for Shane, a woman has clocked him.

“Hello, handsome. I’m Gabriella, but my friends call me Ella. Care for a dance?” She says and holds out a hand imperiously. Clearly not someone who’s used to hearing “No”.

Ilya doesn’t know who this one is, she wasn’t in the book, of that, he’s sure. Possibly a last-minute invite or someone’s plus one. She’s younger than they are, but not by much. Looks like she’s still in university. Her long blonde hair is pulled up in an elegant bun and she’s wearing a royal blue floor-length wrap dress.

“Nice to meet you, Gabriella. I’m Shane. I’m not much of a dancer, really…”

“Let’s change that, then,” she grabs the hand not holding his delicious mocktail that reminds him of Ilya’s thoughtfulness and pulls him to the dance floor. Ilya is able to grab the glass out of his hand and Shane gives him a “get me outta this” stare. Ilya gives him a helpless shrug.

He thinks it will be fun to watch Shane be a little awkward. He does not think that he will feel any kind of jealousy seeing Shane holding this woman’s waist, smiling down at her, and bobbing along (adoringly) to the beat. He doesn’t think he will feel a prickling down his back as her arms wrap around his neck. He drops both his and Shane’s glasses on the nearest high-top.

An insane part of him wants to find his own dance partner, but luckily his sober mind reminded him that he’s working. He’s not Shane’s plus one. Maybe he should stop glaring…

Shane manages to maneuver Gabriella so that he is facing Ilya, and glances over her head right at him. He probably saw the glare before Ilya could school his features into a neutral boredom. Shane purses his lips like he’s hiding a smile then looks back at his dance partner. They chat and Ilya pulls his stare and looks around the room. He spots JJ dancing with that Yvette woman. Hunter is talking with a server. He sees a few more VIPs that Yuna will want to make sure Shane speaks with.

Finally with a good enough reason to rescue Shane, he steps onto the dancefloor and makes his way over. Shane stops dancing when Ilya reaches them.

“Apologies for interrupting. Mr. Hollander, there is someone asking to meet you. He is not the kind of person that likes to be kept waiting, I think.”

“Sorry Gabriella, this was nice, thank you. I hope you have a nice evening,” Shane says, always the gentleman.

“Oh, sure,” Gabriella says, a little confused. Ilya leads Shane back towards the silent auction tables.

“Thanks for the save,” Shane murmurs. “Now, who am I meeting?”

“Anytime. The VP of Entertainment for GQ, Jim Pollock. Yuna mentioned wanting to connect you to promote more hockey in their Sports section.”

“That sounds horrible. How much longer do I have to be here?”

“You’ve only been here an hour. I haven’t seen anyone leave yet. You probably have at least one more hour to suffer through, I’m sorry,” Ilya says with a frown, honestly apologetic knowing how uncomfortable Shane is in large social settings with strangers. Shane sighs. He hopes he made some sort of difference for Shane.

“Plus, you cannot leave until you make good on our bet,” Ilya says, holding back a wink. Shane flushes anyway.

-

Before he can think of a response, Ilya points out Jim-Pollock-VP-of-Entertainment. Shane takes a deep breath and approaches the fifty-something year old, who’s in decent shape and has salt and pepper hair.

“Good evening, Mr. Pollock. I’m Shane Hollander, Captain of the Montreal Metros, it’s nice to meet you,” he says like a toy with a pull-string.

“Ah, hello, it’s nice to meet you,” he shakes Shane’s hand but doesn’t look like he knows who he’s talking to.

“I was hoping to discuss the possibility of featuring more hockey in your Sports section. Our fitness regimen is quite different than most, I think your readers would be interested.” There, now he can tell his mother that he tried. He really doesn’t care whether Jim Pollock likes the idea. He’s checked a box off his To-Do list. Jim does look, at least, like he now knows who or what Shane is. Clearly, he’s not a hockey fan and somehow has never heard of the Montreal Metros, historically the best team in sports.

“I will take that into consideration. Don’t hockey players usually have missing teeth?” he says, sipping champagne. Shane gives a half-hearted chuckle.

“Many of them do. I’m proud to say I’ve never lost a tooth. Wearing a mouth guard is very important.”

“Well, you’re certainly handsome enough. I’ll talk to our head writer and slip him the idea,” Jim says, eyes sweeping up and down, taking in Shane’s physique.

“Thank you, well, I won’t keep you, have a nice evening,” Shane dismisses himself, Ilya following a step behind.

“Is there anyone else, or can we not and say we did?” Shane whines a little petulantly, he knows, but can’t help himself. His social battery is draining fast. The bow tie feels tight, the layers are making him too warm, and these shoes don’t have enough arch support. Maybe Ilya senses his discomfort going from barely tolerable to something worse, because he suggests taking a break in the washroom.

“Splash some water on your face, it might help,” he adds. Shane nods and they head into the hallway to find the Men’s room. Shane has also been scanning for a possible location for their kiss. Inside the main event hall is a no-go. There are no private nooks they can step into for a moment. This hallway is empty, but anyone could leave the hall or any of these other doors for that matter.

The washroom is clean; they do their business and wash their hands. Shane does splash a bit of water on his face, and it helps cool him down. He supposes they could kiss in here; there’s no one else here. But. Ilya deserves better than a bathroom kiss. He’ll call this Plan B if nothing else materializes.

“Thanks, by the way. You’re doing a great job helping me tonight. I would be in worse shape right now if you weren’t here,” Shane says, looking at Ilya through the mirror.

“Hm, yes. Probably still be sitting at the bar nursing your first drink,” Ilya says with a crooked smile.

“Such an asshole,” Shane replies, fondly.

“I think maybe you like it,” he says softly and Shane feels his cheeks go red. He coughs and tears himself away from the mirror.

They re-enter the hall and Shane’s eye catches on a staircase near the entrance. He assumed it was for the orchestra, but now that he takes a closer look, there seems to be another section of the balcony on the west side for guests to mingle.

“Let’s head up,” Shane says.

Aha! Shane sees a lot of helpful alcoves along the wall that are mostly in shadows. Maybe they could get away with a quick kiss, so long as no one he knows is up here. They walk along the balcony and, unsurprisingly, Shane doesn’t recognize anyone. He looks to Ilya, though.

“Anyone up here I should meet?”

“No,” Ilya says, having also scanned the balcony.

“Excellent.” Shane’s heart rate picks up, the butterflies in his stomach wake up. Shane leads them to the last alcove, which is about five feet deep, in shadows. If they walk in, kiss, and walk out, they can get away with it. Shane looks over his shoulder but doesn’t see anyone looking at them. He steps into the alcove and goes to the corner. Ilya follows him in.

Shane grabs him by the jacket’s lapels and mildly slams him into the wall before kissing him. Ilya’s hands find his waist and squeeze. Shane meant for this to be a quick kiss, but it’s really hard to pull away. Ilya is just too good at kissing, Shane melts into him, opening his mouth. Ilya moves his hands to Shane’s neck and meets Shane’s tongue with his own. Shane hums and presses their bodies flush, kissing frantically, and zoning out of anything that isn’t Ilya Ilya Ilya.

The sound of footsteps approaching breaks the spell, and he pushes off, quickly wiping his mouth and stepping back to a more appropriate distance. The footsteps stop, never having made it into view. They pant, staring at each other with hungry eyes, and Shane cannot wait to get back to the fucking hotel. He adjusts his tux and walks out of the alcove, Ilya following behind as always. Not far from their hiding spot, JJ is leaning against the railing, scanning the crowd below. He turns when they join him on the railing.

“Capitaine! There you are. I’ve been looking for you. What are you doing up here?” JJ asks, quizzically.

“Sorry, I was getting a little overwhelmed down there. Since I can’t really go outside to get some air, I came to the balcony. Less people. Just needed a minute to refocus, you know.”

“Did it work?” JJ asks, his confusion evolving to concern.

“It really did,” Shane says with a smile and hopes he’s not blushing.

“Excellent! There are a lot of beautiful women here. I have Yvette’s number. But I’m keeping my options open,” he says with a wink. “Anyone catch your eye? I saw you on the dancefloor with a beautiful blonde?”

“No. I mean, yes, I danced with someone for a couple minutes, but…” Shane trails off.

“Your standards are impossibly high, mon ami! Sometimes you just need a good fuck.”

-

Ilya wishes he had a drink he could hide his smirk behind. Shane is getting more than just a “good” fuck. He’s not too modest to say that their fucks are “earth-shattering”.

“See! Ilya knows what I’m talking about. You must be a hit with the ladies yourself. Did you get anyone’s number?”

“Can’t be flirting on the job, JJ. Would not be professional of me,” Ilya says, smoothly.

“You work him too hard, Shane! Let the man have some fun!” Oh, if only he knew… Shane is very good at making him hard and letting him have all the fun he wants. He needs to stop this train of thought, though, because he can feel his cock plumping up.

-

“Do you ever think about anything other than women, JJ?” Shane asks, half exasperated, half fond.

“I think about hockey on occasion…”

“Lucky us!” Shane laughs. “Have you put any bids on any silent auction items?” Shane tries to redirect the conversation.

“There’s a week vacation in Costa Rica that looks fun. Made a bid. Probably won’t get it but hey, it shows that I participated, right?”

“Right. I should go down and do the same. Maybe steal that Costa Rica trip from you,” Shane teases.

“No way! Find your own auction item!”

They make their way back down to the crowd that is more inebriated, which means more loud. He heads straight to the auction table, finds a random trip (not Costa Rica, he’s a nice Captain and friend), and puts a bid. There. He participated.

He spots Hunter leaning against a column nursing a drink and heads towards him.

“Hey man, I’m going to take off. It was nice seeing you off the ice. I’ll see you in a few weeks!”

Hunter smiles back at Shane and says, “I look forward to winning the first face off.”

“In your dreams!” They chuckle at the playful ribbing and Shane walks away. He and Ilya go to the exit.

“I don’t care that it’s still early, I’m done.”

“No complaints from me, that means my workday is done, Shane,” Ilya says in his seductively low voice.

-

Back at the hotel, Shane kicks off his shoes and says, “My room”, and Ilya grabs his wrist, pulls him into a crushing kiss, and they blindly walk to the bedroom.

“My turn to choose position. Remember when I made you all floaty and fuzzy? I would like to do that again. Is okay?” Ilya says, looking straight into Shane’s brown eyes. Shane is nodding and his pupils are blown out. Good sign!

“Okay. Before we start, we should have safe word. If either one of us is not comfortable with what we are doing, we can say this word and we stop completely,” Ilya instructs, having done a bit more research on the Dom/Sub thing.

“What is a word you would not say during sex, but that you could easily remember?” Ilya asks. Shane ponders, looking a little like this extra step is not necessary, but does as he’s asked like the good boy he is.

“Overtime.”

“Yes! Perfect. If one of us says Overtime, we both stop, no matter how far gone we are. Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Good. Now, take off your clothes.” Ilya leans against the dresser on the wall facing the bed. Shane slowly removes his bowtie and places it in the garment bag’s pocket. He removes his jacket, places it on the hanger, and does the same with his vest and shirt. He unbuckles his belt, adding that to the pocket as well, then removes his pants. He folds them over another hanger and zips up the bag, hanging it on a hook behind the door. He slips off his boxers, staring at Ilya the entire time. His cock is half hard and getting harder by the second.

“Get on the bed.” Shane does.

“Touch yourself. I want to watch.”

Shane turns a lovely shade of pink, but he trails his right hand down his chest to his cock. Ilya tosses him the lube from the dresser and watches as Shane pumps the liquid into his hand and strokes himself, eyes softening at the contact.

Ilya is hard and white knuckling the dresser behind him to stop himself from launching onto Shane. He wants to do this right. Shane looks up and maintains eye contact with Ilya.

“A little faster, now. Show me how you touch yourself, thinking about me in the shower.” Shane speeds up, rubbing a thumb over his slit sometimes. His other hand plays with his balls. Shane is starting to lose himself in the sensation if his moans are any indication to go by.

“Stop.”

Shane frowns, but stops the movement, not letting go of his dick. He’s panting, mouth open.

“I need you,” Shane whispers.

“You will have me. But you need to get yourself ready for me, don’t you, sweetheart?”

Shane nods fervently.

“Open yourself up. Show me how you do it when you play with your dildo.”

Shane swallows, adds more lube to his fingers, sinks further down the bed, raising his knees up. He slides a finger over his hole, gently massaging the outside ring before plunging in. Ilya is leaking in his boxers watching Shane’s finger disappear inside him. Shane slides a second finger and whimpers a bit at the stretch.

“Please, you do it so much better…” Shane moans with another frown.

“You beg so nicely,” Ilya says, approaching the bed still fully dressed. He lays down next to Shane and places his fingers in Shane’s mouth first. Shane suckles them eagerly, coating them with spit. He reaches over and teases his lubed-up hole.

“Do you like my tuxedo, sweetheart?” he murmurs against Shane’s cheek. Shane nods.

“Stunning.”

“Very good,” Ilya finally pushes his finger inside. Shane gasps and pushes his forehead against Ilya’s.

“Did you like dancing with that woman?” Ilya inserted the finger as far as it goes but has not moved it.

“No,” Shane says, immediately. Ilya rewards him with some movement earning a pleasurable sigh from Shane.

“Did you like me whispering in your ear?” he says, whispering in his ear. Shane shivers and nods.

“What did you like about it?”

“Felt… special… being your center of attention… and…” Shane pants.

“And?”

“And felt… cared for,” Shane finishes, hiding his blushing face in Ilya’s neck. This admission certainly deserves another reward. He slips a second finger inside, crooks them, and knows he finds Shane’s prostate when the other man yells out, “Oh fuck!”

“You are doing so good. Answering all my questions so well. Let’s see if you get a perfect score, yes?”

“Yes, yes, yes, please, ask me anything,” Shane begs and squirms.

“Who else do you find attractive?”

“What? No one. Just you. Thought I was broken. Before you. Just you,” Shane rambles. Ilya is on cloud fucking nine right now. Ilya adds a third finger, stretching him out beautifully. Shane’s moans are enough to make Ilya even more wet.

“Bonus question. You do not have to answer if you don’t want,” Ilya says while he keeps finger fucking him, attacking his prostate.

“What do you feel when you think about me seeing someone else?”

“No. Don’t,” his eyes are closed and he looks ready to burst from the sensations.

“That is not what I asked.” Ilya pulls out completely and Shane wails.

“No no no no no, please, I’m so close, please!”

“Not yet.” Ilya gives him a moment to recover and watches as Shane thrusts into the air helplessly, unable to stop moving even if he’s not getting any friction on his cock.

“Will you answer?”

“I feel... Angry. Jealous. Not good,” Shane admits, biting his bottom lip.

Ilya swings one knee over Shane, lining his clothed cock with Shane’s mouth.

“Such a lovely answer. I only want to make you feel good. Will sucking my cock make you feel good?”

Shane nods and hurriedly unbuckles and unzips Ilya’s pants and slide his boxers down just enough to free his cock and greedily laps at the tip, relishing the taste. He opens his mouth and sucks him, humming as he goes. The vibration is a lovely feeling that’s bringing Ilya a little too far along. He distracts himself by reaching behind him to stroke Shane’s neglected cock. Shane really gets off on sucking him, so Ilya has to make sure not to stroke him too much. This night isn’t over yet. He still needs to fuck Shane into the mattress.

When both men were flying high, Ilya stops stroking him and says, “Are you ready for me to fuck you?”

Shane whines at being brought to the brink only to be pulled back yet again, but shudders at the welcome thought of feeling Ilya’s dick inside him. He opens his mouth to let Ilya take it away but licks the entire length on the way out. Ilya moves down, kisses Shane with the taste of sex in his mouth and then flips him over to his stomach.

“Hands and knees, you will come on my cock hands free.”

Shane presents his ass.

“Wait like this while I go get a condom.” Of course, there are condoms in this room, but Ilya wants Shane to be begging for it. He slowly goes to the other bedroom, removes his clothes, and rummages through his bag for the condoms. He rolls one on and lubes himself up here. He saunters back, seeing Shane’s ass in the air through the open doorway, and Ilya knows he won’t be able to last too much longer.

Shane cranes his neck to watch Ilya walk into the room and whispers, “Holy shit,” seeing his naked and commanding form.

Ilya crawls up the bed, lines himself up, and pushes himself all the way in without saying a word. Shane gasps and moans.

“Sweetheart, I’m going to fuck you so hard for being such a good boy for me,” Ilya growls.

“Yes, yes please, fuck me, I did everything… you asked… please…” Shane breathes heavily.

Ilya fondles Shane’s ass cheeks for a quick second before thrusting in and out, hard, at a break-neck pace.

“So fucking tight, Shane. This hole is mine. Say it,” Ilya commands, feeling possessive and not caring about the consequences.

“It’s yours! Only want you. Fucking need you,” Shane cries out, settling Ilya’s needs.

-

Yes, only Ilya’s. He doesn’t want this with anyone else. Who else would take such good care of him? Who else would fill his hole so completely?

Ilya puts a hand between Shane’s shoulder blades pressing him further into the mattress, which is exactly what Shane wants, too. He’d do anything to please Ilya. And now he’s attacking Shane’s prostate with every fucking thrust.

“Oh my god, oh my god…” he says, muffled by the mattress. The heat is pooling yet again and he hopes he’ll be allowed to come this time. He said he could. He hopes he was telling the truth.

“That’s it, baby. Be my good boy and come for me. Make a mess on these sheets. You like to be dirty for me, yes?”

“Yes yes yes,” Shane says, deliriously and thankfully. He was so right to trust Ilya. So right. It only takes another thrust and the heat spills out of Shane with a high moan. His muscles contract as his release lands on his chest and the duvet cover. Above him, Ilya thrusts a few more times then stills, and Shane can feel the pulsing inside of him. Maybe one day they can do it without a condom and Shane can feel his come leaking out…

Is Ilya talking to him right now? Shane isn’t sure, he’s too busy floating into the sky.

-

Ilya grabs a wet towel and returns to clean Shane, who hasn’t moved from his position. Ilya gently dabs around Shane’s sensitive hole before wiping his chest.

“You did so good for me. Did everything I asked. And you come so beautifully,” Ilya murmurs as he cleans. When he’s done, he tosses the towel on the floor and rolls Shane over, scoops him up bridal style, and carries him to the other bedroom. Shane snuggles into his neck and sighs contentedly.

Ilya lowers Shane onto his bed and coaxes him to crawl under the blankets. Ilya joins him and Shane immediately rests his head back in the nook. Ilya plays with Shane’s hair, whispering sweet nothings. Well. It’s starting to feel like sweet somethings. And he hopes Shane is feeling it, too.

It takes longer for Shane to come back this time, but he looks so relaxed Ilya didn’t want to bring him back up if he didn’t need to. Eventually, he does come back, Ilya can see it in the focus of his eyes.

“That was perfect,” Shane whispers. Ilya gives him a full kiss as a welcome back.

“For me, too,” Ilya admits with a smile. Shane matches him then looks around the room in a daze.

“When did we switch rooms?”

Chapter End Notes

Next chapter is Saturday (New Jersey game, drama ensues) and Sunday (the real conversation!).

 

Thank you for all the love and comments!

Chapter 13: New Jersey

Chapter Summary

Previously on "P.A. Wanted": Shane finds a way to kiss Ilya at the gala.

In today's episode: The long-awaited talk

Chapter Notes

CW: Homophobic language; Racism

Shane is dreaming. He must be. How else could he explain giving a press conference while Ilya is hidden under the table sucking him off?

Shane slowly wakes and discovers, to his pleasure, that it was only partly a dream. Ilya is between his legs, with his perfect mouth around Shane’s hard cock. He moans and lifts the covers so he can see a master at work.

Ilya’s eyes drift up and the fucker winks. Unfortunately for Shane, the wink does something to him and heat starts radiating out from his gut.

“Fuck, so close, so much better than an alarm, fuck fuck fuck—” Shane breathes out as Ilya swallows his release.

-

After they check in to the hotel housing the rest of the Metros, Ilya leaves Shane to listen to Pike prattle on about his brood of children and heads to the lobby with comfortable chairs and tables and a fancy coffee machine he wants to enjoy.

With a French vanilla in hand, he opens his laptop and brings up the poll. He tests out the link, ensures the results can be exported, goes through the question list again, and edits the e-mail draft. He plans on sending it out during the Christmas break, where both management and the union are less likely to figure out what’s going on right away.

“…is a fuckin’ pussy. He needs to be taken down a peg…”

Ilya looks away from his laptop toward a voice that travels and sees Comeau exiting the hotel, talking on the phone. He goes back to his email draft, saves everything, and schedules the release for December 23rd at noon.

-

Shane skates to center ice and takes his position, ignoring the center on the opposing team. Berke is a known asshole, and Shane has learned that silence works him up, leading to mistakes.

“Hollander, your mother called me this morning to thank me for last night.”

1-0 Montreal

“Hollander, rumours say you have a girl, now. Did you introduce her to mommy yet?”

Shane assists Hayden with a goal.

2-0

“Hollywood, after the game does your mom bring everyone tea and cookies?”

2-1

That was the first chirp all night that got through Shane’s shield. Only one person calls him Hollywood.

“Hollywood, are you going to ask Santa for a new personality for Christmas?”

3-1

Going into the third, Shane is on edge. Chirps don’t bother him normally. Just part of the game. But these ones are weird. Focusing on his mother, treating him like a child, and using a name only Comeau uses. What is going on?

“Hollywood, rumor is you finally got laid? Did your mommy find you a date?”

“Hollywood, does your girlfriend know you’re a faggot? Does your mom?”

3-2

-

Ilya watches the game from the foot of the bed, at the edge of his seat. There’s something weird about this game. Berke’s mouth is constantly moving, and Shane never responds, never taunts back. Berke is focusing more on Shane than on scoring and at the top of the third Shane scores his hat trick, bringing the score to 4-2. The crowd dutifully throws their hats.

On Shane’s third shift, Berke is targeting him so insistently that even the crowd is starting to feel weird about it and especially when the refs aren’t calling valid penalties. Theriault looks pissed, arms waving and pointing.

Berke slams into him again and this time Shane doesn’t ignore it. He drops his gloves.

Ilya stands before making the conscious decision to do so. On the screen, Shane’s face looks fierce and he’s still not responding or yelling at Berke. He stays silent as he throws a hook. Ilya is shocked when Berke falls onto his back and doesn’t get up right away.

The camera pulls in and Shane is saying something through gritted teeth, probably knowing people will try to read his lips and making it harder for them. Before either of them can escalate it further, the refs whistle and pull Shane away, giving him a penalty. The crowd barely cheers at the opposing captain getting sent to the sin bin for 5 minutes. Montreal looks ready to jump the boards, everyone is yelling, and Shane does nothing to de-escalate his team.

At the end of the game (Montreal 4-2), Shane lines up for handshakes but skates away before he gets to Berke, much to everyone’s surprise.

Ilya paces the hotel room. What is going on? How can he help? He makes a call.

-

“Capitaine! That punch was legit!”

“I didn’t know you had it in you!”

“Twitter is already trending with #HollandersRightHook.”

“How’s your hand doing?” Hayden asks. Shane flexes his hand, which is sore and bruising already.

“Nothing some ice can’t fix.”

Around them the locker room is still pent up from the game. Shane is used to loud locker rooms and they usually don’t last long before they hit the showers. Today is the exception that proves the rule. Shane is starting to feel overwhelmed when Coach sticks his head in and tells him to do press. Sigh…of course.

“Hollander! Congratulations are in order, I think. Your team won, you scored a hat trick, AND you got your first Gordie Howe Hat Trick! How does it feel?”

“It always feels good to win a hard-fought game. I’m glad I was able to contribute to that win.”

“What did Berke say to make you drop your gloves?” A different reporter asks.

“Nothing special. He had been targeting me all game and I guess that last one was the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

“What did you say to Berke after you knocked him down?”

“Oh, I don’t know, it was the heat of the moment. I think something like getting what he deserved? Usual stuff.”

“With a hard punch like that, why don’t you fight more often?” Asks yet another reporter.

“For that exact reason. I know I pack a hard punch and it’s never my intention to actually hurt anybody. Fighting has a place in hockey, but my place is at center ice, making plays happen, and scoring goals.”

“Did you take karate growing up?” Someone in the back asks. What the fuck? Is that because he’s half-Asian? So obviously he must have taken karate? How’s he supposed to answer this racist fucking question.

“There’s a punching bag in the Metro’s gym and we have access to trainers. I make sure all my guys spend time with him at least once a month. Thanks guys, have a good night.”

And with that, he left the press scrum without looking back. Hayden and JJ are waiting for him when he re-enters the locker room. JJ looks furious.

“Fuck that fucking reporter! Which one was it? I will karate chop his fucking brains out.”

“I don’t even know, someone near the back. I’m not crazy right? That was a racist fucking question?”

“Yes, capitaine. It was fucked up.”

JJ, whose parents are Haitian, gets his own fair share of racist comments as well, so he knows it when he sees it. Hayden is quiet but looks angry on his behalf, he’s never had to deal with stuff like this.

“I’m going to talk to our PR team and make sure that person is banned,” Hayden says.

“No, it’s okay, I should be the one to do it.”

“No! Listen, if you do it, they’ll think you’re just being sensitive. You’re not. But if it comes from me, they have a better chance at listening. White privilege, man.”

“Pike is right, mon ami. Let the white guy deal with it. Now let’s get showered and changed, some of the guys are talking about going over the bridge to hit up New York!”

“I think Shane and I will head back to the hotel, right Shane?”

“Yeah. You have fun on our behalf, JJ. But make sure everyone makes it back on time for the bus tomorrow morning, ya?”

After the shower, Shane finally gets a chance to check his phone.

Ilya, 👻 PA: 1221 Union Street. Room 810.

Shane: ?

Ilya, 👻 PA: Thought you might not want to be at the same hotel as everyone else.

Shane: You thought right. Be there soon.

Ilya, 👻 PA: I already grabbed your stuff from other hotel. You can come straight here.

Shane: Even better.

“Sorry Hayd, looks like a friend is in town and wants to meet. I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow morning for the bus.”

“Your date is here? They watched the game!? Dude, you are so getting laid tonight. Enjoy buddy!”

-

Ilya has one table lamp on, giving the room a warm glow. He has an ice pack ready for Shane’s hand and the table set for their post-game snack. There are lube packets and condoms scattered around the room just in case.

Shane knocks, Ilya opens, and Shane walks in, looking tired, angry, sad, and overwhelmed. Ilya’s heart thumps uncomfortably and before he can register if it’s a good idea, he scoops Shane in for a tight hug. Shane returns the hug and they stand there until Shane calms down slightly.

“Do I smell chicken?” Shane asks as he loosens his hold.

“Yes. Medium Hot chicken wings, to be exact.”

Shane smiles, looks at Ilya, then looks around the room.

-

He notices everything. The soft lighting, the nature documentary in the background, the ice pack on the table next to the food. The hot wings because he remembered their conversation from the sushi restaurant. The new hotel and room. The hug. Shane wants to cry at the level of thoughtfulness on display. He takes a deep breath to keep his emotions in check and takes a seat. He’ll say thank you when he can trust his voice not to waiver.

-

“Should we have milk? I have read that milk helps. I can order room service milk,” Ilya offers, sniffing dubiously at the hot wings. Shane shakes his head, grabs a wing, and bites into it, not even flinching. Okay. Ilya can do this. He takes a wing, bites into it, and immediately his tongue is bombarded with heat. He tries to chew and swallow quickly, thinking that will make the pain go away. It lingers. He looks back at the wing like it betrayed him. He can’t give up, though. He really wants to bring Shane to a Russian restaurant. He finishes the meat off the first wing, face already starting to sweat a bit, and drinks half a glass of water.

Shane’s posture has relaxed even more, and he has a giddy smile on his face watching Ilya suffer. Ilya would do anything to keep Shane happy. So, he bites into another wing. Shane eats his portion in silence, even going so far as to lick his fingers afterward. Show-off. Ilya decides that going quickly is the best option. The quicker he eats, the quicker he can get this over with. He’s finished his glass of water after the third wing. After the fifth, he steals Shane’s water. Shane smirks and lets it happen. He even gets up and refills Ilya’s glass with water from the kitchenette sink. Just three more wings to go. He’s fully sweating now and his nose is running. His eyes start to water but before he can reach to wipe the wetness away Shane’s hand moves lighting fast and grabs his wrist to stop him.

“Don’t touch your eyes with your hands. It will make it worse.” He hands Ilya a stack of napkins so he can dab his eyes with those instead.

“These wings are evil. I think they made mistake. Gave me extra hot wings instead of medium.”

Shane snorts and shakes his head. “Nope. The wings were good, but they weren’t hot hot.”

“What is wrong with honey garlic wings? Is best. Everyone knows this.”

“Ummm…”

“Shush. I must finish these stupid wings before they finish me. Is personal now.” Ilya scowls at the wings and quickly eats the last three, barely pausing to swallow. When he’s done, he wipes his hands with the wet nap provided and downs the rest of Shane’s glass of water as well as his own. He leans back in the chair, sweating, mouth on fire, and stares at Shane who looks completely unaffected.

“I don’t think your wings were sauced properly. Is no way you can be this calm.”

“I grew up eating spicy food. Both my parents love it, so I got used to it. It really is an acquired taste.”

Ilya looks skeptical but instead of answering he swipes the ice pack off of Shane’s knuckles and rests his tongue on it, providing temporary relief.

“Gross! You don’t know where that’s been!”

“Shane, I’ve put my tongue in your ass, I think I can handle an ice pack,” he says, deadpanned.

Shane blushes and concedes the point. He scoots over to the chair closest to Ilya and holds his bruised hand up to the ice pack. Ilya laughs, removes his tongue from the ice pack, and places it gently back on Shane’s hand on the table.

“Thank you. You thought of everything, as always.” Ilya is delighted at the praise. He’s glad he was able to lift Shane’s spirits.

“Do you want to talk about it now?” Ilya asks, very curious about the game and how Shane is feeling about it. He nods, and they move to the couch to be more comfortable, glass of water in Ilya’s hand. Ilya mutes the tv but leaves the visuals on. Shane sighs before starting.

“Berke used to play for Montreal. He got traded a couple times before he landed in New Jersey. He’s always hated me, because they traded him in order to get me in the draft. He used to be the Captain, and a lot of the older guys still respect him. I think… I think guys like Comeau and Drapeau were really close with him so even after all these years they think I’ve stolen his place. Nevermind that I brought them three cups and Berke doesn’t have a single one to his name.”

“Does he always target you like this in games?”

“Not like this, exactly. He usually chirps me, more than others, but we’re both centers so it made some kind of sense. But tonight? It was like a personal vendetta. I don’t know why. I’ve been playing for six years, why now?”

“What did he say?”

“I don’t remember most of it exactly, but there was a lot of stuff infantilizing me. But then he started calling me Hollywood.”

Ilya’s scowl from the wings returns.

“The first time he said it, it finally got under my skin enough that I made an error and Berke was able to assist on their first goal. He got the second goal after calling me a faggot,” Shane says, his voice darkening. If Ilya were to look in a mirror right now, he’s sure he would see murderous intent on his face.

“That last check into the boards… He hit way too hard but that alone wouldn’t have gotten to me. It’s what he said. “Bet you get off on the contact, you fuckin’ fairy.” It’s not even the worst thing someone’s said, it was just… one too many, I guess.”

“And what did you say to him after you – very sexily, I might add – punched him to the ice with one hook?”

“If I’m a fairy, then you just got taken down by one.”

“Not bad. Personally, I would have gone with, “Die motherfucker, die.”

Shane smiles at this, like Ilya hoped.

“I have good news. The poll is ready. I will launch it next week, so everyone gets it during holiday break. By January, you will have a good idea where to go. Comeau and Drapeau don’t want to win Cup anymore? Their fucking loss. Any other team will take you in heartbeat. You will have luxury of choice, I think.”

Shane looks somewhat hopeful which is a big improvement over the storm of feelings he had when he first entered the room.

“Let’s shower, brush our teeth, and go to bed, please.”

Ilya is only too happy to comply.

Much to Ilya’s dismay, though, Shane doesn’t let them trade blowjobs in the shower. He says the spicy heat will transfer from their mouths to their dicks, and that is not something Ilya is willing to test out. He is into some kinky shit, but he draws the line at spicy dick. Yet another reason why spicy food is evil.

-

Shane wants to show his appreciation for everything Ilya did for him tonight, but his original plan is no use. He wanted to give Ilya a massage, but his hand is still too sore and swollen to make it a good one. He tells him and then asks what he’d like to do.

“How about I open you up,” Ilya starts, whispering into his ear.

“Then I slip inside you. You can be my cockwarmer and we go to sleep. Whoever wakes up first can do whatever they want to the other.”

Shane’s arousal floods his system at this idea and he nods vigorously. Ilya kisses him, reaches for a lube packet and a condom.

“Um. What if. I mean, do we need… I’m clean. If you are too, then maybe we don’t need a condom?” Shane finally manages to spit out, face flushed pink. Ilya stills.

“Are you sure? I was tested last month, am clean, too.” Ilya says while massaging Shane’s hole.

“I trust you. Yes, I’m sure. Want to feel you properly tonight,” Shane murmurs.

“Fuck, Shane. You will kill me for real,” he says and kisses Shane’s shoulder.

-

Ilya would do anything for this man. He has to tell him. Tomorrow, when they talk, he has to say that they have to be together somehow. This isn’t just sex, if it ever was. It’s more. It’s already more. They just have to be brave enough to define it. But that’s a conversation for tomorrow. Tonight, he gets to use Shane as a cockwarmer as he sleeps. He’s not sure he’ll be able to fall asleep, and he certainly hopes he can stay hard if he does.

They are both laying on their sides, spooning. Ilya takes his time loosening Shane up, spreading kisses over his shoulders and neck. He lubes his bare cock and checks in one more time.

“You are sure?”

“Yes, very, please. I’ve been thinking about it for days,” Shane moans.

“Thinking about this?” Ilya says as he pushes inside Shane, raw. Ilya groans at the feeling and suddenly thinks cockwarming is a terrible idea. But no, stick to the plan, it will be worth it.

“Oh my god, yes, fuck,” Shane whimpers.

“Fuck, Shane. Never felt like this before,” Ilya says, without thinking.

“Me neither,” Shane whispers.

Ilya pushes in as far as he can in this position, then drapes his arm over Shane’s side to hold his chest. They both rock together slowly, trying not to escalate but both struggling with their arousals. Eventually, Ilya burrows his face into Shane’s neck, and whispers, “Goodnight, Shane.”

“Goodnight, Ilya,” Shane says, feeling so full, so complete. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to fall asleep, but his exhausted body overrides his swirling thoughts and he sinks into sleep within a minute.

-

Ilya wakes, the clock on the nightstand telling him it’s 3:04am. He’s still spooning Shane, who’s being a very good cockwarmer. Fuck. He tentatively pumps his hips, hoping there’s still enough lubricant for an easy slide. No issues, so he keeps going. Remembering that he’s bare inside Shane, he lets out a low moan. His slow pumping motion speeds up and he grabs Shane’s leg for leverage.

-

Shane wakes from a pleasant dream that’s already slipping through his fingers. More of the dream is lost with each steady thrust from Ilya. He’s hard and dripping on the sheets, but he ignores it for now, focusing instead on meeting Ilya with each thrust and throwing in a hip circle.

“Mmmmm so good,” Shane mumbles into the darkness. Ilya drags himself in and out faster with the encouragement.

“Can’t wait… to feel you… dripping out…”

“Fuck, Shane, fuck,” Ilya groans into his neck. “Is too good…”

“So hot… fuck… I don’t want… to stop,” Shane admits into the pillow. Ilya growls and holds him tighter, digging his fingertips into Shane’s thigh hard enough to bruise.

“Touch yourself, make yourself come, need to feel you come,” Ilya pants frantically, lightly biting Shane’s shoulder. Shane does not need to be told twice; he lets go of the sheets he was fisting and holds his hand out to Ilya who spits into it. Shane wraps his hand around his girth and jerks in time with Ilya’s thrusts. The heat crests and tips over.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” Shane cries as he comes, riding wave after wave of pleasure, still feeling so full and complete with Ilya moving inside him.

-

Shane’s clenching orgasm is just what Ilya wanted and needed to let go. He groans, focusing on the novel feeling of his come spurting into Shane’s ass instead of a condom. It feels so right; Shane is his. He’s come on people before, and it’s very hot. But nothing could prepare him for the intense intimacy of this moment, coming inside Shane, raw, bare, nothing in between them. This is where he belongs and no one else can give Shane what he can.

-

Ilya slowly eases out and Shane immediately feels the unwanted emptiness that is mitigated by the feeling of Ilya’s release dripping out of him. This. This is what he wanted. To feel the proof inside him, letting himself be claimed, trusting someone so completely. He can’t think of anything else, just Ilya Ilya Ilya.

“It feels… so good. Weird, and different, but so so good,” Shane says in a low voice.

“For me, too. Felt different. Much better. I can’t… no one else Shane. No one else, okay?”

“No, no one else. You can’t either. Just me. Just us,” Shane says, rolling in Ilya’s arms to face him now. He lays a hand on Ilya’s face and makes an effort to maintain eye contact. This is too important. “No one else.”

Ilya nods quickly and kisses him deeply.

“Just us,” he mumbles against Shane’s lips. They fall back asleep, tangled together, sharing the same breath.

-

Shane’s alarm goes off as usual, startling them both awake, then giggling at their reaction. Shane leans over to turn off the alarm and Ilya leans with him, not willing to let any space get between them.

“So, Rozanov, what’s my schedule like today?” Shane asks, smiling shyly, still intertwined.

“Mmmm shower sex with your hot P.A., then taxi back to other hotel for bus departure at 10am. Flight leaves at 1:30pm. Then you have two days off before your last game before Christmas break,” he says all this, nuzzling and kissing Shane’s neck.

Shane smiles. His heart rate picks up, knowing they definitely need to talk about things in the daylight, not in the literal heat of the moment. He kisses him, then gently pulls an arm’s length away before sitting up.

“Okay. Talk first,” he says, quite bravely he thinks. Ilya smiles at Shane’s attempt at seriousness and follows suit, sits with his back against the headboard, maintains his distance, and waits to see what Shane has to say.

“Okay. So. Based on last night… or this morning… it seems like… we are on the same page?”

“If the page is keep doing this, then yes, same page,” Ilya nods along.

“Right. Um. And what exactly… like… is this… we said just us. So. No one else, right?”

“Shane, if you try to date someone else, I think I will explode. And same for me. I can’t even think about anyone else. I’ve only thought about you since October.”

“Good. Good. Same. Um. But what about… I wanted to say… like, don’t make a decision thinking that it would affect you being my P.A. okay? You have a job whether we keep doing this or not,” Shane says, trying not to look worried.

“You are worried. You think you are my boss?”

“No, I mean, I know technically you report to my mom or whatever, but like…” Shane trails off.

“Not exactly.”

“What do you mean?”

“I am not an employee. I am subcontractor. Yuna hired my company, which yes, is just me right now. But we negotiated a contract, and nowhere in the contract does it say I can’t fuck my client. Is more of a personal code of conduct that I made for myself and until you I never had problem,” Ilya’s eyes flicker between Shane’s.

“Oh,” Shane nods and takes a moment to digest this. How does this affect the power dynamic? Shane never felt one to begin with, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one. It’s easier for him to say as the one nominally in power.

“I do not feel, what is phrase, take advantage of? I think we made it clear that we would be friends and you would absolutely have gone home with me if we met outside of this,” Ilya says, quite smugly. Shane purses his lips to contain his smile, not wanting to feed his ego.

“Besides, I would want to do this even if I wasn’t your P.A. I like making sure you are comfortable. I like making you happy. I would make a great house husband, I think. But this way, I have reason to be around you 24/7 and none of your idiot teammates suspect anything.”

Shane smiles wide and his shoulders, which he didn’t realize were tensed up, loosen and drop.

“Come here,” Ilya says, holding out his arm. Shane slides into it and they kiss, and kiss, and kiss as they try to detangle themselves from the messy sheets. They try to make it to the shower without breaking the kiss. They are smiling and touching and happy.

-

On the bus to the airport, Hayden steals Shane as a seat partner much to Ilya’s annoyance. They finally, finally decide to be… boyfriends? Are they boyfriends now? Shit, they suck at talking. Together, at least. And stupid Pike is forcing them apart. Okay, sure, maybe Ilya is a little dramatic since he’s just across the aisle, but still. No secret touches, no soft smiles without anyone seeing. Now that they are… whatever they are… all Ilya wants to do is be near him. It’s a very painful 45-minute drive to the airport.

At the terminal, Ilya steals Shane away from everyone else and pretends to go through his schedule. He is relieved to see Shane’s relief at being near him, too.

“What are you doing for the Christmas break? I was afraid to ask before… I wanted to stay in the moment, I guess,” Shane admits.

“Mmm, me too. Kept thinking, what if it’s last time, yes?”

“Exactly.” They try to contain their heart eyes and smiles.

“Russians do not celebrate Christmas on the 25th, so, is not special day for me. The poll will go out on the 23rd, I think I will be busy making sure it all works.”

“Oh,” Shane swallows.

“You will be back on the 27th for night game at home against Toronto.”

Shane nods, not trusting his voice right now. Why is his throat seizing up? Why are his palms sweaty?

“Oh hey! I forgot to ask,” Hayden says as he approaches. “Jackie wants you and JJ to come for dinner on the 23rd before everyone goes home for the break.”

“Um, ya, that should work. I can go to my parents’ place the next morning.”

“Perfect! The kids will be excited to see you. I gotta go bug JJ now, see you on the plane, buddy.”

“I do not remember you asking if your schedule was free,” Ilya teases. Shane rolls his eyes, smirking.

“Is okay. If they ask about the poll while you are there, you know nothing about it.”

“Too bad it’s anonymous, would be nice to know what my own teammates think…” Shane muses, biting into his cheek.

“You may not know which teammate it is, but you will learn a lot about Montreal, I think.”

“True. Want a smoothie?” Shane asks, looking over at Booster Juice.

-

Smoothies in hand, they pace around the nearby gates.

“I wanted to ask…” Ilya starts, looks around the busy area.

“Yeah?”

Ilya pulls out his phone, opens the Notes app, and types out:

Are we boyfriends? We did not give this a name. I want that. I want to be your boyfriend.

Ilya is jittery and blames his morning coffee. Shane takes the phone and types:

Yes. Boyfriends. I like you, Ilya. More than just sex.

Ilya sighs and now he has to try even harder not to hold his hand. As it is, he lets his hand linger when the phone is passed back.

I like you, too.

-

Shane is buzzing. He’s glad Ilya thought to define it and that they really are both on the same page. Boyfriends. Shane has a boyfriend. Shane is a boyfriend. Shane really really wants to hold his boyfriend’s hand.

They board their flight, with Shane between Ilya and Hayden.

“So Rozanov, how do you like all the traveling? None of the other P.A.s Shane hired came with him on roadies,” Hayden asks while fishing for his earbuds in his backpack.

“Then they were bad P.A.s. I don’t mind the travel. Much easier to coordinate when I have access to my client. If is only over the phone, he could ignore me and it would make my job harder.”

“Client? I mean, aren’t you his employee?” Hayden puzzles.

“He’s not technically an employee. He’s a contractor,” Shane responds.

“Exactly. Much better dynamic. I am more of a Personal Manager than a Personal Assistant. After initial meeting and negotiation, he does not tell me what to do. I already know what he wants before he does, and I manage his time and make life easier so he doesn’t have to think about it.”

“Cool. Well, you must be doing a great job. I’ve never seen Shane so relaxed.”

“Can you not talk about me like I’m not sitting right here?”

Ilya puts his hand over Shane’s face to block him from the conversation and says, “Thank you, Pike --” Shane swats his hand away before Ilya could keep talking, and they all chuckle.

“Shane, do you wanna sync up a movie and watch together? I’m feeling like it’s an Aliens kind of day,” Hayden asks.

Shane feels rather than sees Ilya stiffen at Hayden taking his attention. Shane decides to be a brat in case Ilya wants to take it out on him later and says yes.
-

Ilya does, in fact, take it out on him later that night. He edges Shane four times before he’s allowed to come.

Chapter End Notes

Okay so the talk is actually three talks but they finally get there!! Other things to look forward to: the poll/results and New Years Eve!

Thank you reading <3

Chapter 14: The Poll

Chapter Summary

Previously on P.A. Wanted: Shane and Ilya are boyfriends!

In today's episode: The anonymous survey is sent out and the results are in.

Chapter Notes

The 23rd finds Shane and Ilya entangled in the sheets, kissing as they come down from their morning orgasms.

“Okay. You have hair cut at 10am. The poll goes out at noon, but you do nothing for that. Dinner with the Pikes tonight. You drop me off at home before your haircut, and I will see you on the 27th? You have evening game.”

“Yeah. Maybe we can go to a Russian restaurant for lunch?”

“Yes! I will book somewhere. I will be at your place for 10am that day to bring in grocery delivery. Then we can talk about the poll.”

Shane sighs in contentment. They get up to start the day, Shane in the gym and Ilya on the laptop. Before too long, it’s time to go.

They stand at the door to the apartment and Ilya leans in for a goodbye kiss. Shane wraps his arms around Ilya and opens his mouth, letting him in. The kiss is soft and sweet with an underlying heat.

“Good kiss. Will need to last us three sleeps.”

“True. In that case…” Shane kisses down Ilya’s neck and sucks a claiming bruise below his collar bone. Ilya hums his approval.

“My turn,” he says after Shane licks the bruise better. Shane tilts his head but instead he feels his shirt ride up. Ilya crouches down and leaves his mark on Shane’s left pec. Shane threads his fingers through Ilya’s curls.

“There. Now we have proof when we aren’t able to text.”

“Proof?”

“That this is real,” Ilya says with soft eyes.

“This is real,” Shane agrees, and leans in for a final quick kiss.

-

From: info@MLHPA.com [sent 12:00pm]
To: Member Distribution list
Subject: Anonymous Survey – Working Conditions

Hello Players!

Take time during the break to fill out the Anonymous Survey – Working Conditions. The survey will close at noon on December 26th.

Be honest! The survey is anonymous and encrypted; there can be no retaliatory actions from management.

Regards,

MLHPA

No one else needs to know that MLHPA stands for Major League Hollander’s Personal Assistant. If they assume it means something else, well, that’s on them. Ilya heads to his apartment’s basement gym once the email sends. After twenty minutes, his phone starts to buzz with email notifications. His phone doesn’t stop for the next several hours.

-

“Did you fill out the MLHPA questionnaire yet?” JJ asks Shane and Hayden while they take their seats in the living room. Jackie is in the kitchen, and the twins are on the living room floor playing Mario Kart (Shane’s gift to them) while Arthur watches.

“Yep! Don’t know how that information will help the union, but hey, gotta be a team player!” Hayden responds.

“Yeah, same. Still would be interesting to see the results, though,” Shane says, playing with the pull tab on his can of ginger ale.

“Lots of questions about team dynamics. I wonder if people are complaining about toxicity in the locker room? There must be some pretty bad rooms out there if they’re resorting to this!” Hayden adds. Shane is quiet as he takes this in. Hayden doesn’t think the Montreal locker room can be toxic?

Shane takes his customary guest room to spend the night rather than drive home. Hayden’s place is on the way to Ottawa, so it didn’t make sense to backtrack to his own place for the night.

-

[9:00pm]
Ilya: 40% completion rate already, is going much better than I thought

Shane 🏒: Wow! I’m nervous and excited. JJ and Hayden were talking about it at dinner. The team group chat exploded too.

Ilya: Good.
Ilya: Are you ready for your drive tomorrow?

Shane 🏒: Yep. Leaving at 8am. Meeting my parents for brunch.

Ilya: …Do they know?

Shane 🏒: No! They don’t even know about me, yet.

Ilya: Would they not be good with it?

Shane 🏒: You’ve met my mother and her quest to get me married with kids.
Shane 🏒: My dad would be good. So would my mom in the end, I’m sure. I just don’t want coming out to be a big deal, you know?

Ilya: I know.
Ilya: We will still text every day, yes?

Shane 🏒: Of course! And maybe phone calls at night?

Ilya: Video calls 🥵

Shane 🏒: No!! I mean, sure we can do video calls. But not THOSE kinds! I’m staying at my parents’ place!

Ilya: So boring…

Shane 🏒: Yeah but I’m YOUR boring 😌

Ilya: Yes. Yes you are.

Ilya’s heart skips a bit at this and he smiles wide.

Shane 🏒: Is it crazy that I already miss you?

Ilya: I miss you too. Maybe we are crazy together.
Ilya: My bed is so cold and lonely…

Shane 🏒: Stop it

Ilya: I’m not doing anything. I’m just lying down in bed. Naked.

Shane 🏒: …

Ilya: are you in bed?

Shane 🏒: yeah

Ilya: are you naked?

Shane 🏒: …yes

Ilya: Think you can be quiet?

Shane 🏒: fuck

Ilya: I like when you are not quiet. But since I can’t hear you. You are not allowed to make a sound. Those are only for me.

Shane 🏒: fuck, okay

Ilya: are you hard?

Shane 🏒: very

Ilya: are you touching yourself?

Shane 🏒: waiting for you to tell me I can

Ilya: Fuck. Good boy. Touch yourself.

Shane 🏒: thank you

Ilya: nice and slow. No coming until I say.

Shane 🏒: are you touching yourself too?

Ilya: Yes. So hard for you. Imagining it’s your perfect mouth.

Shane 🏒: love feeling you on my tongue

Ilya: such a slut for it

Shane 🏒: yeah
Shane 🏒: I’d lick you all over. Love to taste you

Ilya: I would lick your hole, get you ready for me

Shane 🏒: yes please, want to feel you. Need to feel full

Ilya: fuck. Poor thing. So empty right now without my cock inside you. And my cock is cold without its warmer.

Shane 🏒: So empty. Want to warm you every night

Ilya: yes, we can do this. Fuck

Shane 🏒: I’m close

Ilya: me too
Ilya: wish I was slamming into you, filling you up

Shane 🏒: harder don’t stop

Ilya: break your fucking headboard with how hard I’d go

Shane 🏒: fuckyes
Shane 🏒: now please please please

Ilya: yes sweetheart, you have been so good. You can come now, and send me picture

Shane 🏒: thank you
Shane 🏒: holy ufck
Shane 🏒: [pic of hand full of come]

Ilya: fuck
Ilya: so hot
Ilya: [pic of chest painted with come]

Shane 🏒: oh fuck

Ilya: clean up and text me goodnight when you are back in bed

Shane 🏒: Goodnight, Ilya 😘

Ilya: Goodnight, Shane 😘

-

Christmas Eve finds Shane, Yuna, and David, at Eggspectations for brunch with their usual Eggs Benedict orders (Smoked salmon, Montreal, and Avocado toast, respectively).

“Oh honey, I meant to ask… It seems Ilya RSVP’d no to Wimbledon this summer,” his mom says.

“Okay. What’s the question?”

“Well… Rolex really wants you there. I just wanted to make sure he asked you before he said no?”

Shane snorts.

“Mom, the whole point of getting a personal assistant was so that I didn’t have to make these decisions anymore. If Ilya RSVP’d no, he must have a reason. And honestly, I’m glad. I don’t want to spend part of my limited time off watching a game I don’t care about.”

David looks playfully offended. Shane knows he’s a big tennis fan and shoots him a fake apologetic grimace. David chuckles.

“I mean. It could be fun! The seats are right next to a Swedish Prince. No, wait, a Swedish Princess!” She says, re-checking her phone.

“Then she’ll get to sit next to someone who actually cares that she’s a Princess or likes tennis,” Shane says, getting annoyed.

“Alright. Okay. I just don’t want Ilya to RSVP no to things if he hasn’t talked to you. These could be good opportunities to meet people, you know,” she says softly. Shane swallows. This is a good opening. He could tell them. His dad probably already figured it out. He’s always been too perceptive and knows how Shane’s feeling before he does. His mom, though. He loves his mom, but she tends to see what she wants to see.

“Ilya is very good at his job. If he RSVPs no, I trust him. If he RSVPs yes, I trust him. He’s never done anything that would make me question his judgment,” Shane says defensively. Yuna sighs, seeing a lost cause.

Their food arrives and they dig in, effectively putting an end to that conversation.

“Now, tell me about that right hook! I haven’t been able to get a word in edgewise since then,” David grins teasingly at his wife. Yuna looks at him with fondness and a touch of annoyance.

“My hand feels better. Was sore for a couple days. Berke was chirping me all night and hitting harder than necessary.”

“Where was your defense?” Yuna asks. Shane sighs.

“Our defense sucks this year. I don’t know what’s gotten into them. I thought I made progress with them last week, but… apparently not.”

“I was very proud of that punch, kiddo. Dropped him in one! I don’t think he’ll try that again anytime soon,” David praises and Shane smiles appreciatively.

“Montreal better get their shit together if they want another Cup!”

Shane specifically does not mention the poll, the fact that he’s interested in changing teams, the fact that he’s gay, and the fact that he’s seeing someone. He hates lying to his parents, and lies of omission are still lies. Maybe he can tell his Dad some of this, if he can get him alone… His Dad has always been one of his best friends.

At home, they watch the International Prospect Cup pre-championship coverage like they do every year. David is puttering between the living room and the kitchen, prepping for dinner.

“Oh shoot. I’m out of cooking wine,” David mutters.

“Don’t you dare use my good wine!” Yuna calls out without looking away from the screen.

“Fine. Okay, I’m going to run out to the LCBO.”

“I’ll come with you, Dad.”

And so now Shane finds himself alone with his father on the drive to the liquor store.

“Okay kiddo. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Do you even need cooking wine?”

“Nope.”

Shane exhales a laugh.

“Um. Okay. Don’t tell mom. I’ll tell her eventually. Soon.”

“Of course, son.”

Shane’s palms are sweating. His heartbeat is racing. The words are getting stuck in his throat. If it was hard saying it out loud to Ilya, it’s ten times harder saying it now.

“Um.”

Just say it. He will love you. He probably already knows. He already knows. You are just confirming it. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.

Shane’s mouth is very dry. The cloudy sky is somehow too bright.

“What if I asked yes or no questions, and all you had to do was answer?” David proposes.

“Yeah,” Shane manages. That should be easier. He can say yes or no.

“Well. You know I love you no matter what. Are you looking to be traded out of Montreal?”

What?

Shane is a little off-balance. His father isn’t wrong, but this isn’t the secret he planned on mentioning first.

“Um. That wasn’t. Um. But. Yes,” Shane manages to spit out.

“I thought I’d start with the easier question, first. I’ll cheer for any team you play on, but selfishly I hope it’s a Canadian team and not Toronto.” Shane laughs.

“I doubt it will be Toronto,” Shane starts. This is the easier question, with an easier answer.

“Ilya secretly sent out an anonymous poll to all the players gauging their team culture. He made me realize I can make any team play better but it’s harder to make players be better people. Montreal is like… half toxic, half okay. I want more than okay, though. I’m hoping there’s a team where everyone actually likes each other,” Shane explains.

“Ilya is right.”

“He usually is, but don’t tell him I said that, he’ll be insufferable,” Shane smiles.

“Again, you know I will love you no matter what. Do you like women?” David asks after a beat, tapping the steering wheel to the tempo of the song on the radio, volume on low.

Shane swallows. This is it. Just say it.

“No,” he says, quietly. David nods.

“Do you like men?”

Shane can’t speak; the word is stuck. But he nods. Tears spring to his eyes but don’t fall yet, getting caught in his eyelashes.

“Do you like Ilya?”

Shane whips his head to face his father, face splotchy. Red from blush and pale from nerves.

“Yeah,” he says with a quavering voice.

“And does he like you?”

He nods. “We, um, kind of made it official on Sunday.”

“I’m so happy for you, son! Now I need to meet him properly, as your boyfriend.”

“Don’t tell mom!”

“I told you I won’t. I’m sure you’ll tell her when you’re ready. But thank you for telling me. I love you and I’m proud of you,” he says all this while driving, doing something normal and mundane, not making a bigger deal. He doesn’t pull over. He doesn’t slam the breaks. He carefully pulls into the parking lot and parks as if nothing life changing occurred. Shane sighs, stress leeching out of him with each breath.

“Thanks, Dad. I love you, too.”

“Now, what kind of vodka does he like?”

[7:30pm]
Shane: I’ve been dying to tell you
Shane: It’s been such a crazy day
Shane: I told my dad

Ilya, 👻P.A.: !!!
Ilya, 👻P.A.: How did it go? Are you okay?

Shane: Very okay. It was great. He made it easy for me.

Ilya, 👻P.A.: How much does he know?

Shane: He knows about us 😊. Says he wants to meet you properly.

Ilya, 👻P.A.: I have never met boyfriend’s parents before. I am nervous but happy.

Shane: I wish you were here.

Ilya, 👻P.A.: I wish you were here.

Shane: Okay, ya, good point. I wish I was there.

Ilya, 👻P.A.: 😈

Shane: Don’t start!! I’m in the living room with my parents!

Ilya, 👻P.A.: Then don’t look at your phone…

“Who are you texting?” his mom asks.

“Hayden,” he lies. A quick glance at his father then back to his phone, so his father knows that part is a lie. At least he’s not lying to both of his parents. That’s progress, right?

Ilya, 👻P.A.: next new location can be sauna. You can be my cockwarmer, my dick’s very own sauna

Shane: okay that sounds hot. Pun intended.

Ilya, 👻P.A.: what else do you want to try?

Shane: I don’t know.. maybe toys could be fun?

Ilya, 👻P.A.: Done. I will get you toys. Use the company card and everything

Shane: Asshole
Shane: What about you?

Ilya, 👻P.A.: just more of the dom/sub thing I think. I have not had anyone to explore this with

Shane: I do like being told what to do

Ilya, 👻P.A.: And being told you are doing such a good job.

Shane: Yeah, that too

Ilya, 👻P.A.: Okay, I do more research (on company computer) and make plans
Ilya, 👻P.A.: I will not surprise you. I will always tell you the plan.

Shane: You know me too well.

“Seriously, Shane, why don’t you just call Hayden?”

“What?”

“You are texting non-stop. Isn’t it easier to have a real conversation?”

“Why do you care about me texting? It’s not like there’s a limit on the number of texts I can send. It’s not 2006.”

She mumbles something about kids these days that Shane ignores.

Christmas morning dawns and Shane sends Ilya a Merry Christmas message with an attached photo of him topless and his pajama bottoms hanging low on his hips. Ilya gifts him with a similar photo that Shane takes with him in the shower.

After his shower, he messages the Pikes, JJ, and the team group chat before heading downstairs for breakfast. At this point in life, they’ve decided to stop exchanging presents. Instead, they are each responsible for an activity they all have to do together that day.

Shane starts them off with a gingerbread house contest. He bought three kits and challenges them to create the tallest free-standing structure. His father is hilariously hopeless with his tower falling over at the slightest provocation.

His mother fairs better, using her pinpoint precision to create a tower that at least stood on its own.

Shane’s was a work of art if he does say so himself. He made a sturdy base and cut the gingerbread walls into strips which he connected with the icing into triangles and ended up with a tower at least six inches taller than his mother’s. His parents concede victory (his father with grace and his mother with ruthlessness that makes him worry what her activity will be).

David’s activity is a 3D puzzle of a globe. This is a collaborative effort, though, and they spend an enjoyable couple hours putting it together, and one angry hour with all the blue water pieces.

Yuna plans a painting activity. She sets up three easels in a triangle so each person is facing the center, and no one can see the others’ paintings. They need to paint a portrait of the person to their right. Best likeness wins.

Shane paints his father, who paints Yuna, who paints Shane. Art is not anyone’s strong suit, so they are all giggling at their attempts. After the 30-minute timer goes off, they reveal the portraits one at a time.

“I’ll go first,” David says. He flips his painting around to show a profile of Yuna’s face that looks like a third grader finger painting. They laugh at his colour choices and the paint all over his fingers that prove he did in fact do some finger painting.

“I was only given two brushes!”

Yuna and Shane award it a 4/10. Next, Shane flips his around. He did a full-body portrait and even included the easel. Other than the correct colours for the clothing David’s wearing, there isn’t much likeness there. It’s awarded a 5/10.

Yuna flips hers. She’s painted Shane’s face in profile wearing his Metro’s helmet. She got his freckles and pouty lips just right. 7/10

“Okay that’s one for Shane and one for me. We need a tie breaker,” Yuna announces.

“You need a tie breaker to determine who wins Christmas?” David asks, shaking his head, as if this is the first time this has happened.

“Duh,” Shane and Yuna say at the same time. David sighs.

“Okay then. Give me ten minutes to prepare a game for you two.”

[4:00pm]
Ilya, 👻P.A.: Is so boring here without you

Shane: Next holiday we’ll be together. All I can think about is you.

Ilya, 👻P.A.: Are you having fun?

Shane: Yeah. Today is games day, so it’s fun being competitive over silly stuff. We’re about to go into a tie breaker round, so wish me luck

Ilya, 👻P.A.: how about incentive? If you win, I send you a video of me in the shower

Shane: yeah, yes, good incentive. I’m going to win

Ilya, 👻P.A.: no lying about winning! I will text Yuna if I think you are lying.

Shane: I would never lie about winning! I would never lie to you in general

Ilya, 👻P.A.: good. You go play your silly game. I’m going to record a video.

Shane: fuck

The game is a try-not-to-laugh challenge. They need to hold a mouthful of water without spitting while watching funny YouTube videos. They set themselves up side by side at the kitchen table where David set up a laptop, take a large gulp, and lock in. David presses play on the first video. It’s a compilation of scared cat reactions. Cats being surprised by cucumbers and cats being surprised by other cats. David is chuckling, but Yuna and Shane hold their water. He moves on to the next video. This one featuring funny fails in the winter, mainly people slipping and falling on ice. These ones get a bit more reaction from Yuna and Shane, but they still keep their water. Shane has a lot riding on this win. The next video is bad lip reading of hockey players. Finally, Yuna cracks! It’s just a moment but it’s enough for some water to spill out.

“Shane wins!” David declares. Then Yuna and Shane lose it over the next lip read and full on spit all their water. Everyone is laughing and then Yuna shakes Shane’s hand, conceding victory with a, “good game”.

“Loser cleans up the water?” Shane chirps.

“Hell no. The Game Master cleans it up!”

Yuna and Shane head into the living room to choose a movie while David is left to mop up the water.

[4:22pm]
Shane: I won!! It was a try not to laugh challenge.
Shane: how’s that video coming along?

[4:45pm]
Shane: ilyaaaaaa

[4:54pm]
Ilya, 👻P.A.: good boy. Editing video. Adding music. Making it extra sexy for my serious man.

Shane: you are too good to me

[6:07pm]
Ilya, 👻P.A.: [sexyboyfriend.mp4]

Shane: it’s cruel that I can’t watch this right now.

Ilya, 👻P.A.: you will tell me when you do? And show me pic of you after?

Shane: absolutely. Now, distract me with less sexy things. What’s the most boring thing that happened to you today?

Ilya, 👻P.A.: I ordered Uber Eats for lunch and it took them 30 minutes instead of 20.

Shane: I hope your rating reflects their mediocre service

Ilya, 👻P.A.: 3/5 star experience

Before Yuna selects a movie, ESPN is on in the background and starts talking about the MLHPA. This gets Shane’s attention.

Seems like an email went out to all MLH players asking them to partake in a survey claiming to be from the MLHPA. The Player’s Association gave the following comment:

“We are looking into the origin of this survey. It is likely a scam. Do not interact with it. The MLHPA did not send this email.”

One of our reporters received the link from an anonymous source and opened the survey. It does not ask for any identifying information beyond which team the player is from. What follows is a series of questions about team culture, locker room dynamics, and overall satisfaction with their current team and management.

[6:10pm]
Shane: ESPN NOW!!

Ilya, 👻P.A.: Yes, I am watching, too. We had 70% completion rate before this segment. We will see if it goes up or stays the same.

Shane: that’s not what I’m worried about!!

Ilya, 👻P.A.: I told you, tracks covered. Besides, the more they talk about the survey, the more coverage it gets. MLHPA will want this to go away as fast as possible to avoid embarrassment. Deep breaths, sweetheart. I promise it will be okay.

Shane: you can’t possibly know that and yet I already feel calmer

Ilya, 👻P.A.: just imagine my arms holding you tight while I kiss your temple

Shane: Mmmmm… that would feel nice right now

That night, Shane watches the video with headphones on and his door locked. Ilya, the menace, starts the video with the “I’m too sexy for my shirt” song while he strips down, looking straight into the camera. He turns on the shower, showing off his perfect round ass. His muscles bulge as he steps into the water and now the music changes. Shane doesn’t recognize it, but it’s a sexy ambiance with lots of bass. Ilya looks over his shoulder to the camera as if he’s checking Shane out. He lathers himself up, throwing little looks over his shoulder.

Shane is hard, naked, and lubing up his hand.

Ilya rinses himself off, rubbing everywhere. He looks over at the camera again, and fully faces it, lips slightly parted, and he strokes himself slowly. He nods at the camera, giving Shane permission to join him. Shane didn’t even realize he was waiting for a cue, but now that he has it, he touches himself, matching Ilya’s pace. Ilya’s other hand goes to his ass cheek and squeezes. Without breaking eye contact, Ilya inclines his body to the side to give Shane a better appreciation for the length and girth of his cock. His hand speeds up, so Shane does too.

The music lowers and Ilya’s moans and curses can now be heard. His hand moves from his ass to the glass wall of the shower stall. His hand pumps furiously, mouth is open and he stares down the barrel of the camera.

“Fuck, Shane,” Ilya cries out as he spills his release into the shower. The water washes most of it away, but Ilya brings his finger to his mouth and cleans it off, eyes closing slightly at the taste.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” Ilya commands. Shane muffles his moan as he climaxes all over his hand. He catches his breath, snaps a picture and sends it off before washing his hands.

Ilya, 👻P.A.: Good boy. Did you enjoy?

Shane: I’ve saved the video in a locked folder on my phone. That’s how much I liked it. Holy fuck. But now you aren’t here to hold me 😢

Ilya, 👻P.A.: I am sorry. Two more sleeps. Unless you decide to come back tomorrow instead?

Shane: I’ve been thinking about it. It sucks not spending the break with you. I love my parents, and I’m glad I told my father, but I’d rather be with you

Ilya, 👻P.A.: then come back after dinner. Will give you proper aftercare. Snuggles and kisses and cockwarming

Shane: fuck. Ya. Okay.

-

A knock on his apartment door at 3pm startles Ilya who was concentrating on his laptop. He checks the peephole and is surprised to see Shane. He opens the door, smiling, and crushes him into a kiss as soon as the door slams shut.

“I hope it’s okay I came back earlier,” Shane says with a bit of hesitation in his voice.

“Obviously. Come in, you want drink?” He holds Shane’s hand after hanging his coat in the front closet and leads him to the kitchen. Shane looks around the space.

“A water or ginger ale would be perfect, thanks. You know, I didn’t really get a chance to see your place last time I was here,” he says, smirking. Ilya smiles, remembering their urgency.

“Is no two-story apartment with floor to ceiling windows, but is not bad. Comfortable,” Ilya says. The apartment is in a fairly new building with modern finishes. A small kitchen, dining, and living area is open concept, ending with a balcony. Parallel to these rooms are the bathroom, walk-in closet, and bedroom. The walk-in connects the bedroom to the bathroom. The bathroom has a second door so it’s accessible from the main room.

“It’s nice, when was this built, do you know?”

“Mr. Real Estate,” Ilya teases. “In last five years, I think. I am second person to live here.”

Ilya never worried when he brought hook ups to his place, he knows it’s a sweet bachelor pad. In comparison to a millionaire hockey player, though, it’s… well, at least it’s not a dump.

“I lived in an apartment like this my first year with the Metros. I loved it. I was nineteen and it felt like an adult’s apartment.”

“My first place in Boston was a terrible house with three other roommates. It always smelled funny and the windows did not close properly. Got very cold in the winter.”

“Shit. How were the roommates? Did you know them beforehand?”

“No. Svetlana saw an ad online looking for a roommate. It was cheap but Vetrov paid well so I only had to stay one year before I got a better place by myself. I did not keep in touch with them.”

They migrated to the dining table during their conversation.

“I was working on the survey when you got here. I took the survey down early after the player’s association posted. Harder for them to track once it is closed. But is okay, we have like 86% response rate. Enough information from each team to get idea.”

“Amazing. Um. Are there any front runners?” Shane asks full of hope.

“Yes. I need to do more breakdowns, but three teams scored highest overall: Ottawa, New York, and Vancouver.”

“Ottawa is terrible. New York has Hunter already… Vancouver is interesting… but far from home. Hmmm.”

“As I say, you can make any team good. Boston scored well, too. Just not as high. Looks like their management is not the best even if teammates all get along. But, no making decisions yet. I will keep analyzing data.”

Shane smiles.

“Okay. Want me to go home so you can keep working?” Shane asks, trying to be nonchalant.

“No. Was thinking… maybe you get on your knees and let me use your mouth as a cockwarmer while I finish working, hm?”

Shane blushes and his breath picks up. He’s nodding and crawling under the table without another thought. Ilya unzips and releases his partially hard length.

“Ah, wait. I get pillow for your knees,” Ilya says, getting up and reaching for a couch pillow.

“There. Now you be comfy and keep me warm. Do not get carried away. Just sit nice and pretty with my cock in your mouth. You can lick and suck a little if you want, but this is not a blowjob. I must concentrate on work. You will be good for me?” Ilya says with his fingers on Shane’s chin.

“Yes. I’ll be so good. Keep you warm,” Shane parrots back. With that, he lets go of Shane’s chin and returns his focus on the laptop. He feels Shane’s hot breath and wet tongue on the tip of his cock. Shane suckles at it and Ilya gets fully hard quickly.

He organizes the data by team and by theme to get the best picture possible. Shane’s tongue lazily glides along his length, his mouth never leaving Ilya’s dick. There are some teams that score high in team culture and management support, but rock bottom for 2SLGBTQIA+ friendly, which means those locker rooms may be cohesive but only because they are a bunch of assholes. Toronto, New Jersey, and Dallas are the worst for this. Shane slides a little deeper then stays put, wiping drool from his chin. Montreal scores mid for team culture, low on management support and 2SLGBTQIA+ friendly, yet high in team satisfaction. Ilya assumes this is because they win a lot. Shane’s tongue is doing what Ilya can only describe as the worm on his dick. What was most interesting was a question buried in the middle asking how they identified. Unsurprisingly, 99% of players said Straight. But 1% were brave enough to share. There are two players in New York, one in Toronto (poor guy), one in Vancouver, and one in LA. Shane shuffles a bit to get more comfortable, leaning his arms on Ilya’s thighs. The movement added friction to Ilya’s cock and he can feel a bit of precome leak out. Shane tastes it and suckles the tip again, moaning.

“Careful, sweetheart,” Ilya warns. Shane sighs as much as one can sigh with a cock in their mouth and stays still. Ilya pets Shane’s hair while reviewing the data. The last question was a comment box where players could describe the culture in their own words and whether they would choose to play there if they had free choice. Sorting this by team gives a clear picture that supports the data. Some teams get along because they are all assholes. Many teams are fractured and wish some things in the locker room would change. Boston are all happy to be there, which Ilya likes. Montreal is mostly happy, there are frustratingly few outliers like Shane who see the toxicity in the room. Shane goes back to suckling the tip, but makes sure not to moan this time, even with more precome dripping out. His eyes flutter closed at the taste. For Ottawa, the word that keeps coming up is “family.” Everyone seems to respect each other, and management talks about Pride Nights as something more than a check-box exercise. The team has gone downtown to watch the raising of the Pride Flag in front of City Hall and many players mention their social media manager is gay and everyone loves him. Shane continues to suckle but takes more in, slowly, as if Ilya won’t notice the change.

Ilya makes Shane wait another fifteen minutes while he collates the data into something presentable. He clicks save on the PowerPoint presentation (yes, he made a PowerPoint presentation), and looks down at his lap, where Shane’s eyes are clouded over, he’s breathing deeply, and he’s slowly sucking about half of Ilya’s cock.

“Okay, sweetheart. Your jaw must be sore by now. Let’s go to bed so I can fuck you, yes?”

Shane slowly lets Ilya’s dick go, but not without a final ice cream lick at the tip, then looks up at Ilya and nods. Ilya pushes his chair out, helps Shane up, then picks him up, Shane wrapping his legs around his waist. He brings him to the bedroom and lets him stand. Ilya takes his time removing an article of clothing from Shane, then removing the matching one from him. He continues until they are both naked, Shane gazing at Ilya’s body, admiring his muscles.

“On your stomach,” Ilya says, nodding his head toward the bed. Shane obeys. Ilya’s eyes appreciate Shane’s perfect ass and his hands get jealous and join in the worship. He’s in no hurry, opening Shane up at a leisurely pace and keeping a hand on Shane’s back so he stops trying to give himself friction.

“Pleasefuckme,” Shane slurs into the pillow.

“I am fucking you, Shane. I have three fingers inside you right now. In. Out. In. Out. Is fucking, no?”

“Nooo. Cock. I want your cock,” Shane explains.

“Ah, we can’t always get what we want, is how song goes?”

“But I need it. Please. Need you to fill me up,” Shane is shivering from need.

“I would never deprive you of what you need, sweetheart,” Ilya says, kissing Shane’s back. He removes his fingers, lubes his spit slick cock, and raises Shane’s hips so he’s on all fours. Ilya enters him, and just like every other time, he marvels at the tightness, the heat, and the stimulation. Shane moans and shivers again, finally getting what he needs.

“There. I am now filling you up, just like you needed. Why don’t you show me how badly you want it, now, hm?”

With his blessing, Shane rocks against him slow at first, enjoying the stretch if his grunts are anything to go by. Ilya stays still, hands resting on Shane’s hips. Shane drops his shoulders, changing the angle, and thrusts back and forth fast now.

“Fuck, Shane,” Ilya whispers, the sight of Shane’s desire nearly undoing him. Upon hearing his name, Shane starts to say Ilya’s name with each thrust.

“That’s right, baby. I am yours. Say my name and making yourself come on my cock,” Ilya growls, barely holding in his restraint.

It takes less than a minute of Shane pounding furiously around Ilya when he comes, crying out, “Fuck, Ilya!”

Ilya takes over from there, fucking into Shane just as hard, letting Shane ride out the orgasm and claiming every last drop until he lets go inside Shane as he calls out his name. He pulls out once he’s spent, and lays down on the far side of the bed, beckoning Shane next to him. Shane gets away from the wet spot and tucks himself into Ilya, holding onto him for dear life. Ilya recognizes this now, subspace for sure. Ilya will be his tether. He rubs his back with one hand and holds the hand clinging to him. He kisses his forehead, his temple, and his hair.

“You did so good for me. Keeping your mouth on my cock for so long was incredible. You are incredible. You made me feel amazing.”

Shane starts to come back to himself, looking up into Ilya’s face while he continues to whisper praise.

“Wow,” Shane whispers.

“Wow is good word. Accurate.” They smile at each other and kiss. Ilya holds onto Shane tight. This precious man who puts his trust in Ilya. He feels powerful but not power hungry. His desire to dominate satiated. They keep kissing until they fall asleep into a peaceful nap, waking up an hour later feeling refreshed.

-

“So, what team am I going to?” Shane asks before they get up to take a shower before dinner.

“Ottawa.”

“Okay.”

“Wait, that’s it? I made a whole PowerPoint to explain why. There are charts, Shane. Charts!”

Shane laughs at his partially feigned annoyance.

“I can’t wait to sit through your not-boring presentation to hear the reasons. And I really am looking forward to learning about all the teams. But you don’t need to convince me. I trust you. If you say Ottawa, it’s Ottawa. We’ll talk to my agent after the break. She probably wouldn’t appreciate a call on Boxing Day…” Shane rambles.

Ilya kisses him to stop his monologue. They shower, get dressed, and set up in the living room. Ilya connects his laptop to the TV and starts the presentation.

-

Shane is not surprised by a lot of the data. The teams that are assholes really are assholes. There are only a few teams that truly seem to get along with every member of the team. Like Ottawa. Fucking Ottawa. One of the worst teams in the league and hasn’t seen a play-off spot in fifteen years! But as he recalls, Montreal was not a great team when he started, either. They built the team around him, and he brought them three cups. He can do the same in Ottawa. They already have good people. They just need to harness their potential. Shane can do that.

“You’ll come with me, right? To Ottawa?”

“Obviously, yes.”

Shane sighs, relief spreading through him. That was one of the things he was worrying about, especially if it was going to be an American team. Ilya is working on his permanent residency in Canada and moving to the US would put a stop to that. But even if it was a Canadian team, Ilya has his apartment in Montreal, maybe he wouldn’t want to uproot himself? And then what, they would be long distance? Shane trembles at the thought.

“I could rent out my apartment here and rent somewhere in Ottawa. We can start looking for houses for you.”

Shane is thinking and feeling many things at once. What if they lived together? They spend most of their time together anyway, wouldn’t it be easier? But maybe Ilya likes his independence? It’s gotta be too soon? Maybe Ottawa doesn’t want him, or doesn’t want to afford him. He feels excited at the idea of a change, anxious at the prospect of actually changing, and so much affection for the man who made him a PowerPoint Presentation. Shane honestly doesn’t know where he would be, mental-health-wise, right now if he never asked for a P.A. or if he never met Ilya.

Shane stands up and grabs Ilya by the collar of his shirt and kisses him deeply.

Chapter End Notes

I mean obviously he's going to the Centaurs! Was there ever any doubt?

 

Threads: @stephsnerdkingdom

Chapter 15: New Year’s Eve / Rose

Chapter Summary

Previously on P.A. Wanted: The poll goes out and the results are in - Ottawa is the place to go!

In today's episode: Boyfriending, a New Year's kiss, and a New Best Friend.

Chapter Notes

The time between Christmas and New Year’s goes by quickly with Shane and Ilya hardly leaving each other’s side. It’s an intoxicating routine of waking up with Shane in his arms, kissing Shane, touching Shane whenever he can, and thinking about touching Shane whenever he can’t.

They go to a Russian restaurant for lunch one day where Ilya orders him salmon caviar with blini to start and pelmeni with mushrooms for the main course. He gets himself piroshki and beef stroganoff. When the starters arrive, Shane digs in to the blini.

“Oh, interesting. I expected this to taste like pancake based on the look, but it’s different,” Shane says, unknowingly playing right into Ilya’s hand. Ilya smiles widely and cocks his eyebrows.

“What?”

“So, you are saying that Blini is not a pancake?” Ilya repeats.

“Exactly. Wait. Wait!! No!” Shane facepalms as he realizes what he’s just agreed to.

“Ha! There. You do not get extra point in 21 Questions,” Ilya says, quite smugly.

“You are the worst. I can’t believe you remembered that silly argument!”

“I remember everything. Now you must message JJ and tell him I am right and you are wrong,” he says.

“Fine,” Shane says, glumly. He pulls out his phone, takes a picture of his food, and sends a message to JJ.

“But, is good, yes?” Ilya asks, a little tentative.

“It is! I actually think I like them better,” he says after taking another bite. Ilya beams. He cuts a bite from his piroshki and slides it onto Shane’s plate. He really wanted to have Shane eat from his fork, but they are in public and you never know who might recognize Shane Hollander. Shane smiles at him and then tries the bite.

“Also good! What’s the filling?”

“Potatoes. But you can also do beef or cabbage here. I am glad you like. I hope you like the main course, too. It is like a dumpling, so it should not be too strange for you.”

“I’m sure I will. And you got a pasta?”

“Classic Beef Stroganov. When I crave pasta, it is either Stroganov or chicken parmesan.”

“Oh! Then I need to invite my dad over to cook for us. Chicken parmesan is one of his specialties.”

Ilya smiles again and feels a warmth spread through his chest. This is so easy. And he wants to meet Shane’s father. He only wishes he could be more affectionate in public. Shane deserves that. As it is, he slides one foot further under the table to tap Shane’s foot and leaves it there. They continue eating in comfortable silence.

“Do you have plans to tell your mother? I am not pressuring you, I am curious,” he adds, to forestall any anxiety.

“Not yet. Now that my dad knows, I can’t keep it from her forever. Not that he would let it slip, it just feels like it will be hurtful to her if he knows and she doesn’t for a long time. Probably early in the new year, though.”

“Okay. I can be there if you want me.”

Before Shane can respond, one server takes their plates away and another replaces them with their main course.

“Oh wow. The dumplings are good! How’s your pasta?”

“Perfect. Egg noodles are fresh, beef is tender, and juice is juicy.”

“I’m going to have to work out extra hard to burn off all these carbs. But it’s worth it. Thank you for bringing me here.”

“I am glad. But today is only beginning of Russian food journey for you. Next time, you try Borscht.”

At the arena, he continues to work in the family box and uses any excuse at all to approach Shane at least once a day. At night, they eat dinner together, shower together, and touch some more. Ilya feels any second not spent touching Shane is a second wasted, but the world is a stupid place.

This morning is much the same, waking up with Shane in his arms from Shane massaging his biceps. This is not the first time Ilya notices that Shane has a thing for his biceps. He’s very glad he works them out so hard so he can manhandle this professional hockey player.

“Okay, today is practice at 10am. New Year’s Eve is tomorrow night. You are going to Ciel to hang out with fancy X-Squad cast,” Ilya says, totally neutrally.

“Right. Is there a way I can get out of that, or for you to come with me?” Shane asks, looking anxious about the prospect of a party full of people he doesn’t know.

“Yes, I can update your RSVP and include me as your +1. If guest list comes out, the press might notice. But I am P.A. so it could be easy enough to explain. Is what you want?”

Shane’s shoulders lower from tension release and gives a small smile.

“Yeah. That’s much better. Just like the gala, we’ll need to find somewhere to kiss at midnight. I’ve never had someone to do that with before,” Shane says, pink-tinged cheeks giving away his embarrassment. Ilya kisses his cheeks (his freckles) again and again before finding his lips.

“You will never have this problem again,” Ilya whispers into his mouth.

“No?” Shane says, quiet and hopeful.

“No. I will even make sure to live longer than you.”

“Now that’s dedication. Maybe you do need that raise,” Shane teases.

“I have been saying this since beginning!” Ilya says, rolling until he’s on top of Shane, who rolls to gain the upper hand, and this keeps happening until they fall off the bed, laughing.

Shane Hollander,

Thank you for RSVPing and securing your spot at Ciel for New Year’s Eve!

If you need to make any changes to your response, please fill out the form below and submit.

- I am adding my +1. Name: Ilya Rozanov
- I can’t make it anymore

Submit

Tomorrow night is going to be amazing.

-

Shane is standing in front of his closet, hoping an outfit will spontaneously appear. Ilya went home to get changed. Probably into something unfairly sexy. Okay, Shane can do this. They went out shopping not long ago. They bought “going out” outfits. Shane hovers in front of that section. He tentatively puts on a black silk button down shirt and dark jeans. He adds that gold necklace they made him try on. He keeps the top three buttons of the shirt undone to make it casual and hopefully sexy. His pecs are kind of visible. He takes a mirror selfie and sends to JJ asking if it’s appropriate for a New Year’s party, wanting to surprise Ilya as much as possible.

JJ, #16: CAPITAINE
JJ, #16: You look good!! What’s the party? I need to know vibes before I approve this look.

Shane: It’s at Ciel…

Incoming Call from JJ, #16

Shane sighs and answers.

“YOU GOT IN TO CIEL AND I AM NOT YOUR PLUS ONE???? Esti de calisse de tabarnac. Yes, you look perfect to hang out with the cast of X-Squad. But we are in a fight now,” JJ says, outraged and only half joking.

“Sorry JJ! I guess I just assumed you would be invited, too. How do you know about it, then?”

“You know the hot bartender? The redhead? She let it slip when I was in her bed last time we went there after a game. Begged her to put me on the list, but she’s “only” the bartender.”

The good thing about JJ is he doesn’t stay mad at you for very long.

“Well, I can always see if I can sneak you in through a back door.”

“Now that’s a good friend, Capitaine! Keep me posted. I will be at a nearby club just in case!”

They chit chat a bit longer before hanging up. With JJ’s blessing, he’s feeling much better about his choices. He wanted to keep to dark colours so he doesn’t stand out too much. Standing out while trying to hide a midnight kiss with one’s gay boyfriend aren’t really compatible endeavors.

Uber Eats arrives with two orders of pad thai, which Shane sets up at the table. A few minutes later, Ilya arrives. He lets himself in as usual, swaggers to the dining table, and freezes when he sees Shane. Ilya’s eyes scan him from top to bottom and his lips part unconsciously. Shane smiles at this reaction as he takes in Ilya’s outfit. He’s wearing black pants, a black sport jacket, and no shirt on underneath. Jesus Christ

“Fuck, Hollander.”

“I could say the same to you, Rozanov,” Shane says, smiling wider. They both step toward each other quickly, crashing their lips together as their hands explore fabrics and skin.

“Food is here,” Shane says against his mouth.

“Fuck the food.”

“I’d rather fuck you.”

“Oh, you make jokes, now?” Ilya teases.

“Shut up,” Shane says with no bite. He gives Ilya another kiss then pulls away and sits down before things can escalate. They need to eat food if they will be out all night.

“So. What are rules for tonight? Obviously, no touching where someone could see,” Ilya says.

“Yeah. But. Maybe we can at least stand a little close together? And sit next to each other?” Shane offers.

“Yes. What about dancing? I have learned my lesson from last time. I will not dance with anyone else. But if we dance near each other?”

“I’m not much of a dancer… but if you manage to convince me to get on the dance floor, yeah, we can dance near each other at least,” Shane says, not at all convinced that he’ll get on the dance floor.

“Done. And drinks? I do not want to get drunk tonight. This is a night I want to remember. But I am Russian, so I can handle a lot before I get drunk,” Ilya says.

“I mean, maybe a glass of champagne at midnight? Otherwise, I liked that cranberry mule that I tried at the gala.”

“Okay. I will make sure we have a glass for midnight,” Ilya promises.

“I’m sure at some point we’ll get separated as conversations and introductions happen. Let’s keep our phones in our pockets in case we need to find each other.”

“Good plan. But good luck trying to get away from me. Will not be easy,” Ilya murmurs, placing a hand on Shane’s thigh.

“I should hope not. And what about the kiss at midnight?” Shane asks.

“I have a plan. It might cost money, but this is not a company credit card situation. Cough up some cash, Mr. All-Star Hockey Player,” Ilya says, holding out his hand and making a “give me” motion.

“Aww does my sugar baby need his allowance?” Shane tries. Ilya’s hand on his thigh tightens and his eyes darken.

“Yes. Sugar Baby needs to bribe club manager to cut the lights at midnight for ten seconds so he can kiss you without aaaanyone knowing,” Ilya says quietly into Shane’s ear. Shane shivers at the breath in his ear and the words in his head.

“Yeah. Money. Okay. How much??” Shane says, a little dazed.

“I’ve never done this before. I can offer $500 and if they say no, go up to $1000? How much is my kiss worth to you? Plus, whatever is left over, we can give to the charity they are raising money for.”

“Good idea. I’ll pay whatever they ask. I’m sure there’s an ATM there in case we need more. I need this to happen,” Shane says, leaning his head into Ilya’s.

Shane’s not sure how, but they do eventually finish eating (cold) pad thai. Ilya convinces him to do one shot of vodka (“New Year’s is big holiday in Russia! Would be disrespectful to my heritage not to take this shot with me!”) before he messages their car company.

There’s no line up to get in, per se. Since it’s a closed event, cars wait at the entrance for a staff member to check their name off the guest list before they are allowed to exit the vehicle and head inside. There are a couple cars ahead of them, so they sit tight.

Eventually, Ilya rolls down his window and shows their invitation and ID’s. The bouncer checks the names off his iPad and nods at them to go in. From the outside, the club doesn’t look like much. There are no windows on this side, it’s a dark façade, and the name CIEL is lit up in neon blues and greens. You can’t even hear the music from outside.

As soon as they step inside past the vestibule and through the big iron doors into the club, the sound washes over them like a tsunami. The disco lights are flashing and swirling around.

-

Ilya immediately notices Shane’s stiffness at this stimulation. He gently ushers him inside by lightly smacking his hand on his back the way a “bro” might, between his shoulder blades, instead of gently on his lower back like he would have preferred. Shane starts to move and Ilya removes his hand. They take it all in. The room is already busy but not quite full. Ilya points his head towards the bar and Shane follows. They see movie stars, singers, other athletes, and a bunch of people he doesn’t recognize but are probably famous for something.

At the bar, Ilya orders a Cranberry Mule and a Moscow Mule. Shane places cash on the bar and they hover near the end of the bar.

“See anyone you know?” Ilya asks over the music, also looking around.

“I mean, I recognize some people, but no one I’ve spoken to before, that I can remember,” Shane admits, leaning towards his ear.

“Ah! I think I see manager. I will be right back,” Ilya says and slips away, leaving Shane alone. Shane people-watches for a moment and catches wavy auburn hair bouncing towards him.

“Shane Hollander,” the woman says. A woman Shane actually recognizes because he’s watched many of her movies on his many flights over the years.

“Rose Landry,” he responds with a smile. “You know who I am?” he asks incredulously.

“I’m a Michigan girl with three brothers. I’ve been hoping to run into you since production moved to Montreal last month!”

“That’s right, I heard they were filming the new X-Squad movie here. How do you like Montreal?”

“I’ve been here once before. I shot a movie when I was a teenager. But it only lasted a week, and it was in the summer,” she says. “It’s a lot more fun as an adult!”

“Different in the winter, though, eh?”

“I’m from Michigan remember? Your winter doesn’t scare me,” she smiles. Shane smiles back.

“Does this mean you’re a Detroit fan?”

“Technically yes, but I’m also a fan of yours. I like good hockey. And you, Shane, are good hockey,” she says, unblinkingly.

“Well, if I get you tickets to our next game, can I get an X-Squad spoiler? I promise I won’t share it with anyone.” This conversation is going very well, he thinks. She’s easy to talk to, probably because she likes hockey.

“Deal! But only if you also get me a Hollander jersey. I need to make my family angry. They’re all Detroit fans, too, of course.”

“Of course. So do I have you to thank for my invitation tonight, then?”

“You sure do. And I was going to ask how you’d like to thank me but then I saw on the invite list you brought a plus one! Guess I’ll have to stick with being your best friend, then,” she jokes.

“Oh, uh, no, it’s not like that, he’s, uh, he’s a friend. But still, I’d like to be friends with you, too.” Well, there goes easy-going Shane. She gives him a piercing gaze.

“It must be tough, in hockey. Or in sports in general,” she says tactfully.

“What must be?” Shane is sweating. A soft, knowing, and sympathetic smile graces her face.

“It’s okay. You don’t need to say anything. And I never will either. So, where’s that plus one of yours?” she says, staring right into his soul. Right then, Ilya returns, not at all smiling.

“Ah! This must be him. Hi, I’m Rose Landry,” she says, holding out a hand to shake. He takes it, still not smiling.

“Ilya Rozanov.”

“Um, he’s, uh,” Shane stammers. Ilya eyes brows pinch together, as if attempting to piece together why Shane is suddenly very nervous. Shane needs to fix this. He doesn’t know why he trusts Rose. But he does. He looks between them and Rose is still smiling and nodding as if to say it’s okay.

“He’s…” Shane looks around, “he’s my boyfriend.” Shane’s heart is slamming into his chest. Ilya looks very surprised at hearing him say this out loud. And for a moment, Shane panics. What if Ilya didn’t want anyone to know? The moment of terror only lasts a second, though, as both Rose and Ilya light up with huge smiles.

“I knew it! And like I said, secret is safe with me. And now we are best friends. Give me your phone,” she demands. He passes his phone over after unlocking it, on autopilot. Then he turns to Ilya, who’s still smiling broadly. Ilya leans forward.

“Now I really wish I could hold your hand,” he says. Shane snaps out of it and sighs with relief and longing for the same thing.

“Done! And in exchange for your secret, here’s a spoiler. This is yet another movie where my character gets kidnapped,” she says as she hands him back his phone.

“That happens to you a lot?” Ilya asks, amused.

“Yes, it’s happened four times now! The last one was in a terrible movie, though.”

“Under Dark?” Shane guesses.

“Noo! That movie is awful!” She whines at his having seen the bad movie.

“It’s not great. But you were good in it!”

“Well, I was barely in it. At least for the X-Squad movies I have more than one outfit. But enough about me! What’s your plan for midnight, and how can I help?” she says, all business.

“I bribed the manager to turn off all the lights for 10 seconds at midnight,” Ilya explains.

“Hmmm, that’s a good start, but you’ll need more. There will be emergency lights that come on so it won’t be pitch black. This part might suck, but it will be worth it, okay? Shane needs to dance with me throughout the night. And at midnight, we’ll stand next to each other so everyone will think you and I kissed. But really, I’ll be blocking the view so you and Ilya can have a moment.”

The boys think this through, and while they can see the logic, she’s right in that it will suck a bit.

“You don’t mind ruining your night? What if you meet someone?” Shane asks.

“Ummm, I’m helping my best friend! That is the opposite of a ruined night!”

“What do you think?” he asks Ilya.

“She’s right. I am not going to enjoy watching you two dance but is good cover.”

“I know. But it needs to look plausible. This isn’t my first time acting as someone’s beard. There are a lot of closeted actors,” she says with a sad smile.

“And why does Shane get to be the one who dances with Rose Landry? I am very good dancer, right Shane?” he teases and Rose laughs.

“Because he’s my best friend! You’re my best friend’s boyfriend. Stay in your lane,” she says with a wink.

An hour later he finds himself on the dance floor with Rose, bobbing along to the beat, trying to look like he’s enjoying having Rose in his arms. She’s doing a much better job, of course.

-

Ilya takes a big gulp of his beer as he watches Shane dance with Rose Landry. His prediction was correct; he hates watching this. Even knowing it’s for a good cause doesn’t tamper down the jealousy. If the world didn’t suck so much, he could dance with Shane at a New Year’s Eve party and kiss him at midnight and no one would care. He’s even a little jealous of Rose’s self-appointed status as best friend. That’s also his job. A tiny part of him recognizes that it’s a good thing for Shane to have someone else to talk about this stuff with. But she’s touching his chest now and any positive thoughts fly out the window. That’s his, he thinks, irrationally.

He puts his glass on the bar and enters the dance floor. He’s not about to make Shane jealous. He just needs to be near him. It’s crowded and most people are quite drunk at this point. Ilya dances next to them and Rose laughs. Shane’s eyes light up seeing him there. Worth it.

“Couldn’t even give me one song, huh?” she teases. She puts herself in between them and lets Ilya put his hands on her waist and dance with her, while she still has her hands on Shane’s chest, dancing with him. She’s much shorter than both of them, so they are able to look at each other over her head and smile. Much better.

A couple songs later they find their way to a booth in the even-more-VIP of the VIP section. Shane slides into the booth first, then Rose, then Ilya.

“Hi Miles! These are my new friends, Shane” – she says leaning into him – “And Ilya.” She stays leaning towards Shane.

“Well hello there.” Miles is good looking, dark skinned, and wearing eye makeup that brings out the hazel in his eyes. Even if Ilya’s perception was low, it would be hard not to figure out that Miles is gay. It does surprise Ilya a little bit, though. His role in the X-Squad franchise is nothing like him, which must mean he’s a good actor.

Miles regales them with stories on set, usually ones about Rose screwing up her lines.

“I’m sorry but a lot of these lines are good on paper but horrendous to say out loud! And if I have to say, “that was a close one!” one more time I’m going to vomit.”

Shane offers them hockey stories in return, and Ilya tells them about Hot Shot CEO.

“Oh my god! He’s here!! He’s on the guest list!” Rose exclaims. Ilya’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Actually, does not surprise me. Half of my job was getting him invited to things he is not wanted at. His new P.A. must have called in a favour to get him here tonight.”

Before they know it, it’s five minutes to midnight. They shuffle out of the booth as a server is going around with champagne flutes, and they each grab a glass. Three minutes to midnight and Ilya tucks himself behind Shane, who’s still got a Rose Landry leaning into him. The booth is right behind Ilya. Two minutes to midnight and Rose is ushering Miles out of the booth so he has a better view of the TVs behind the bar that will show the ball drop at Time square. One minute to midnight and Shane’s free hand drops to his side, right next to Ilya’s. Ilya grazes their hands together, heart rate picking up. The longing is reaching a fever pitch. Thirty seconds to midnight and Rose – without ever looking behind her – shifts so that Shane and Ilya get wedged back into the booth, but still standing. Ten seconds to midnight and everyone’s eyes are on the TV and the tall booths provide enough privacy to hold hands properly. They squeeze.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

“Happy New Year!!” the entire club cheers, clink glasses, take sips, and then the lights cut out.

Ilya grabs Shane and kisses him while they sit down for extra concealment. Ilya’s hand holds Shane’s jaw at just the right angle, and his other hand is on his back, pulling him in close. It’s the best kiss Ilya has ever had, full of promise and possession and heat and care. He’s not drunk but he feels it in this moment.

-

Shane is almost in tears. He’s never been happier than in this moment, sharing a New Year’s kiss with the man he lo-. With his boyfriend. His very first boyfriend, his very first New Year’s kiss. It’s better than winning the fucking cup because, unlike the cup, he never thought he’d get this. His tongue chases Ilya’s and he pulls Ilya’s curls, and his thighs are touching Ilya’s and he just wants to be closer, closer, closer.

Far too soon, the lights come back on and they pull away from each other with difficulty, breathing deep. Rose grabs his chin and turns it towards him, smiling at him as if they just shared a kiss. Shane probably looks love-drunk, which people will assume is due to kissing THE Rose Landry. But they won’t see Shane’s foot touching Ilya’s, because he couldn’t lose all contact. Not after a kiss like that.

People cheer the lights coming back on and clink glasses again, wishing everyone a happy new year. Shane feels Ilya’s hand on his lower back, hidden under the table so no one can see. His thumb rubs back and forth, and all Shane wants to do is put his hand on Ilya’s thigh.

They get back to Shane’s apartment by 1am, having said goodbye to Shane’s New Best Friend. He hopes Rose is serious, she was very easy to talk to, and funny, and she’s one of the only people who knows. Wasn’t he asking Ilya about wanting a friend outside of hockey? This is perfect. Maybe he should text her. Ilya is showering while Shane brushes his teeth and pulls out his phone. He almost chokes on the toothpaste when he sees what name she entered for herself.

Shane: I hope you make it home okay! I had a great time 😊.

Rose (BFF 🌹😇😈) Landry: The car just picked me up! Soooo happy you came and we got to meet! ❤️

Shane: Let’s plan a get together soon! I’ll send you my P.A.s info so he can make it work in our schedules.
Shane: [Ilya’s contact card]

Rose (BFF 🌹😇😈) Landry: Perf! My people will call your people 😉

Shane: Goodnight!

Shane finishes up brushing his teeth and before he has a chance to see Rose’s goodnight text, his phone is swiped from his hand from a naked, wet, dripping Ilya. Shane’s eyes follow a drop as it follows the curve of his neck, over the collar bone, and down his ample pecs.

“Shane, are you even listening to me?”

“What? Sorry, I was distracted. It’s not fair to try and have a conversation when you look like that, you know,” Shane says before swallowing, still not taking his eyes off the droplet as it continues its path over his abs, down the V towards –

“Shane!!”

Shane finally snaps his attention back up to Ilya’s face which seems to be torn between annoyance and amusement.

“I said, why are you planning a date with Rose Landry when your boyfriend is right here?”

“Oh, I’m not planning a date. It’s just a get together. And you’re planning it. I sent her your info,” Shane replies then drops to his knees, looking up at Ilya through his eyelashes.

“I am not planning a date between you and Rose Landry,” Ilya says, stubbornly, but his dick is starting to plump up.

“S’not a date,” Shane says again. He leans forward and licks the water off his cock. By the time he’s done, Ilya is fully hard. He takes him in, sucking, bobbing, and tugging on his balls. Shane is only wearing pajama bottoms and his erection is very obvious. He uses his other hand to give himself some friction.

“No, no touching yourself. If you want me to plan a date for my boyfriend and the very beautiful, very famous, very rich, Rose Landry, you will suck my cock and hump my leg to come,” he says in a dark tone. Shane’s brain goes fuzzy and he obeys and removes his hand. He scoots closer on his knees and Ilya brings one leg forward. He ignores the discomfort of his knees on the ceramic tiles and ruts against Ilya’s proffered leg. He moans in pleasure and his mouth keeps pace with his hip movement. Ilya’s hands are in Shane’s hair, lightly encouraging the pace.

“That’s a good boy. You are mine. You kissed me at midnight. Not Rose Landry. And now you are on your knees for me. Are you my cock slut? Aren’t I nice giving you a leg to hump?”

The dirty talk is driving Shane wild with desire. He tries to say yes, he’s his cock slut and yes, he it is very good of him to provide this lovely muscular leg to hump, but it just comes out as a garbled moan. So instead, he tries to take Ilya even deeper. He can feel Ilya’s precome at the back of his tongue which prompts him to suckle at the tip for a better taste. He moans again and his hips rub against Ilya’s leg erratically. Ilya swears at the sight.

“I’m going to come on your face. Mark you as mine. You like that, wouldn’t you?” Ilya asks with a ragged voice.

As an answer, Shane pulls off, panting, and hovers near with his mouth partially open. His hips are still touching Ilya’s leg but he’s stopped rubbing against it for now. Ilya jerks off a few times and then he’s coming all over his face. Shane can taste it on his tongue and before he can even swallow, Ilya is tapping his face with his cock, right over his freckles. It’s so hot, so dirty, and Shane is so far gone, he comes just from this. He puts Ilya’s tip back in his mouth while the spasms rake through his body and he dirties his pajama bottoms.

Ilya is pulling him up once he’s spent, lowering his pants, lifting him and depositing him on the bathroom counter. It’s nice up here but the counter is a little cold. He can really see Ilya’s beautiful eyes and curly hair. It’s a good thing Ilya has a hand on his thigh, though, or he might float even higher and then he won’t be able to see Ilya’s eyes. That would be a shame.

Ilya is wiping Shane’s face. He’s so thoughtful. He wants to kiss him now so he leans in, fully trusting that Ilya will be there to catch him if he falls.

“You are really out of it this time, hm? I hope it was okay. I like seeing you like this. You did amazing. Everything I asked for. I am so lucky to be with you,” Ilya murmurs after the kiss. He continues to clean Shane of come. When he decides it’s enough, he hoists Shane into his arms and brings him to the bed. They lay down, holding each other, exchanging sweet kisses until they drift off to sleep.

-

Waking up on January 1st with Shane Hollander splayed across his chest breathing softly is like a dream come true. Just a month ago this felt impossible.

They share a perfect morning making breakfast together and lounging in comfortable clothes watching a movie (making out on the couch) and working out (having sex in the gym). But the afternoon is when it all falls apart.

Is he being dramatic? Probably. Does it make him give Shane a hickey? Yes.

“You’re being dramatic,” Shane says, allowing the hickey by protesting ineffectually.

“The world thinks you are dating Rose Landry. I am reacting appropriately,” Ilya says, licking the bruise on his right pec.

“That was literally the plan. It gives us even more cover,” he says, tilting his head to let Ilya kiss his neck. They are having this discussion back on the couch where they put on ESPN who for some reason have decided that Shane Hollander kissing Rose Landry at midnight on New Year’s was sports news. Ilya will write them a strongly worded email later.

“Does not mean I have to like it,” he growls.

“Well, you should keep taking it out on my body,” Shane says. Ilya is about to slip his hand under Shane’s waistband when Shane’s phone buzzes. And keeps buzzing. It’s quite distracting.

“Turn off your phone,” Ilya demands. But Shane disobeys (Ilya notes this and will devise a suitable punishment later). He grabs his phone and checks the list of texts. His mother, father, Hayden, JJ, Metros Group Chat, his agent, and Rose fucking Landry.

Ilya doesn’t really hate her, of course. It’s more the principle of the matter. Shane ignores everyone else and opens up the chat with Rose. Okay maybe Ilya hates her just a little bit.

Rose (BFF 🌹😇😈) Landry: Apparently we are together! The ruse worked! Let me know if you need either of our camps to make a statement. I’m happy to say nothing and let people make their assumptions.

Shane: Warning you in advance I’m a terrible boyfriend already. Currently cheating on you.

Rose (BFF 🌹😇😈) Landry: LOL how much does Ilya hate me?

Shane: He’s giving me a third hickey right now.

Rose (BFF 🌹😇😈) Landry: Awwww like a couple of teenagers! You guys are adorable.

Shane: Ilya says he is not adorable. He is “big scary Russian”.

Rose (BFF 🌹😇😈) Landry: Is he? Big? 😏

Shane: I’m not answering that!!
Shane: yedjgiah
Shane: !31h
Shane: This is Ilya I stole Shane’s phone and hid in bathroom with locked door. Yes, I am VERY big 😎

Shane: Jesus Christ.

Rose (BFF 🌹😇😈) Landry: This is too entertaining! But I need an answer about statements before my PR manager has an aneurysm.

Shane: I agree with no statement. Just let people gossip and make stuff up.

Rose (BFF 🌹😇😈) Landry: Done! Now you boys go back to having fun. Ilya, take care of my boyfriend for me 😘

Shane: Chat soon!

On the 2nd, Ilya gets Rose’s “people’s” contact information and schedules Shane & Rose’s Not Date Totally Platonic Get Together for the next day. Unfortunately, Julia, Rose’s Ilya, is the one to book the restaurant and she chose a very romantic Italian restaurant overlooking the water.

After morning practice, they head back to Shane’s apartment to find the door already unlocked.

“What the hell? I always lock it,” Shane says, confused. He opens the door slowly and he calls out, “Hello?!”

“In here!” a man’s voice rings out. Shane’s eyes widen and he grabs Ilya’s hand. They take off their coats and shoes (they had to let go of their hands for this but immediately hold hands again). Shane leads them to the kitchen island where Ilya recognizes David Hollander. Shane squeezes his hand tighter and quickly scans the apartment.

“It’s just me. Your mother went shopping,” David reassures him and stands up from the stool, striding towards them. He holds out a hand to Ilya, who is very nervous all of a sudden. He lets go of Shane’s hand and shakes it.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Ilya. I’ve heard wonderful things,” he says with a smile that reaches his eyes.

“Thank you, sir. Is a pleasure to meet you, too.”

“David, please! And sorry for dropping in unannounced like this. I didn’t want you guys to feel anxious,” he says. Okay, so David Hollander is the sweetest man on the planet and Ilya will go to war for him. Good to know.

“You’ll stay for lunch? I’ve got my pre-packaged meal, but Ilya usually orders something. We can order whatever you like as well,” Shane offers, looking relieved and happy and on top of the world.

“Don’t mind if I do! I’m craving a shawarma if that works?”

“Yes! I will put order in now. Let me know what you want in it.”

-

Half an hour later, food arrives and they sit at the kitchen table, chatting away. His father is asking Ilya plenty of questions about his childhood, and deftly side-stepping areas he notices Ilya is a little more reluctant to talk about. Eventually, the talk turns to hockey, as it normally does.

“Shane mentioned he might be leaving Montreal. Any idea where yet?”

“I mean, it’s obviously too early to say with certainty, and the team might not want me, but I’ve asked my agent to talk to Ottawa. I also asked her not to tell mom, yet. That I’ll do it myself, soon.” His dad’s face lights up.

“Ottawa! That would be perfect. I can finally cheer for my home team without Yuna getting annoyed!”

Ilya chuckles and is pleased that David is pleased.

“And son, of course they will want you. What team wouldn’t?” Ilya will not only go to war for David Hollander, he will jump in front of a bullet for David Hollander.

“Is what I said!”

“I’m just worried, I guess. What if they don’t want me, and Montreal finds out I’m shopping around? I don’t want anyone to know until it’s settled.”

“Your mother certainly knows more about this than me, but won’t you need to waive your no-trade clause? They’ll have to know at some point.”

Before Shane could respond, the front door opens and Yuna strides in holding a few shopping bags. She drops them off near the entrance and makes her way to the kitchen and sees the boys at the table.

“Oh! There you are! You never responded to my texts or calls!”

“Sorry Mom. Up late from the party and then straight to practice. When I got home, dad was here, so I knew I’d see you soon.”

“Okay, honey. Well, tell me everything!” She sits at the table across from Shane.

“What?” Shane asks, a little worried, a little confused. Ilya places his foot next to Shane’s for comfort.

“Rose Landry!! You met her last night? Or you are together? I can’t believe I had to find out from the news!” She says a little sternly but still happy for her son’s alleged taste in partners.

“Oh. Right. Ya, we met last night at the party. We’re friends, mom. Nothing more.”

“Friends who kiss at midnight?” She says, arching her brow.

“We didn’t kiss.”

“Honey, I saw the photo. It sure looked like you guys just finished kissing!”

-

Shane is starting to get annoyed and angry. It’s one thing for strangers to misconstrue what they see. But he’s telling his mother nothing happened. It would be nice if she believed him.

“Yuna, dear, if he says nothing happened, then nothing happened. You know the press like to take micro-moments and spin them whatever way they want.”

“Did you get her number?” She continues, undeterred.

“Yes. She decided we are best friends, now. We exchanged numbers,” Shane says, curtly.

“Hm. Best friends, eh?” she sounds unconvinced. Shane feels Ilya’s hand squeezing his thigh under the table.

He looks over at Ilya. Then at his father. Then back to Ilya. They both give him encouraging smiles. He takes a deep breath, and –

“Well, you should ask her out. It would be great publicity for both of you, and she’s beautiful! She’s never had any scandals that I’m aware of. Very girl-next-door. It wouldn’t hurt your image.”

Any courage he had to tell his mother the truth was sucked out of the room. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees his father frown at his wife for ruining the moment. Ilya’s thumb rubs calming circles on his pant leg.

“I’ll think about it,” he says, defeated for now.

“Excellent!”

Chapter End Notes

Next episode - we'll finally meet some Ottawa Centaurs!

Threads: @stephsnerdkingdom

Chapter 16: Trade Talks / Rose II

Chapter Summary

Previously on P.A. Wanted: Shane meets Rose who helps him and Ilya share a New Year's kiss. Shane fails to tell Yuna the truth.

On today's episode: Rose comes to a Metros game and Shane meets Brandon Wiebe.

Chapter Notes

This chapter definitely got away from me but the Rose stuff and the Ottawa stuff are all happening at the same time so I didn't want to break it into two chapters. Hope you enjoy almost 10K words worth of Chapter!

After his parents left, Shane falls into Ilya arms, feeling like a failure. Ilya holds him tight and kisses his temple.

“I’m sorry,” he says, the sound muffled by Ilya’s neck.

“Nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart. Come here,” he says softly, then tilts Shane’s chin so he can nuzzle his face.

“I just… I wanted to. It was the perfect moment. And I…”

“You are allowed to be disappointed in yourself. But you must know that I am not. Okay? I had great time getting to know your father,” he punctuates this declaration with a kiss.

“That part was nice,” Shane conceded. Ilya maneuvers him to the bedroom after deadbolting the front door.

“I know what will make you feel better,” Ilya says, his fingertips finding Shane’s skin under his waistband.

“You always do,” Shane says with a little smile.

“Take off your pants,” Ilya says, his mouth against Shane’s.

“Just my pants?”

“And your boxers.”

Shane arches his eyebrows but does as he’s told while Ilya reaches for something under the bed. He pulls out a box.

“You said before you wanted to try toys. Here’s what we will do. I will open you up nice and slow,” he says, lubing up his fingers already and indicating for Shane to lie down.

“Then I will insert this butt plug,” he says, holding up the toy with one hand and inserting a finger inside without any other warning, making Shane gasp.

“Then you will put pants back on and you will do your tape review and I will work on Ottawa stuff.”

“Oh,” is all Shane can manage since Ilya added a second finger.

“And maybe, randomly, the butt plug will vibrate from the remote that I control,” he says in his steady voice, fingers fucking him slowly.

“Oh,” he says again.

“When it goes off, you must continue doing what you are doing. You do not get to touch yourself. I will come over when I’m done working, and if you’ve been good, I will reward you. How does this sound?” A third finger joins the other two and the stretch feels so good.

“Y-yeah, sounds good, very good,” Shane says breathily.

“Remember our safe word?”

“Overtime,” he says quickly.

“Good. If it becomes too much, you will say overtime and I will stop vibration and take plug out gently. Then I will hold you and we talk about it. Okay?”

“Okay,” he says, knowing full well he won’t need to use it. He whimpers when Ilya removes his fingers, but he watches in rapt attention when he lubes up the butt plug. Ilya teases his entrance with it for just a moment before he pushes it in. He gasps again, feeling this new intrusion. It takes him a moment to settle into it, but Ilya is there, holding him the entire time.

“Perfect. Now put pants back on. Make sure you take real notes, you have a job to do this afternoon, so you are ready for film review tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, I will, I’ll be good,” he says with his eyes closed. Ilya kisses him then leaves the bedroom, taking his warmth and delicious woodsy scent with him. Shane opens his eyes, leaves the boxers off but puts the track pants back on, then moves slowly to the living room, testing out walking while wearing the plug. He was worried it would slip out (gravity??) but it stays where Ilya put it. He’s very aware of its presence and even more so when he sits down. It feels good and there’s an undercurrent of tension as he waits for the vibrations to start at any moment. He grabs his notepad and pen from the coffee table, queues up last night’s Winnipeg game against Pittsburg, and presses play.

He does get lost in the tape review as he normally does, noting weaknesses and strategies that he can plan against. Shane forgets for a moment that he’s wearing a butt plug at all until it suddenly starts vibrating.

“Oh fuck!”

“Shhhh, trying to work over here,” Ilya says with amusement laced through his words.

Right. He has to pretend like nothing is happening. But how!? The vibrations are all encompassing and somehow not enough. He wants to grind his hips into the couch, he wants to touch himself, he wants, he wants. Before he can make an embarrassingly needy sound, the vibrations cease. This is both a relief and a disappointment. Shane tries to refocus on the game in front of him, backtracking to go over the section he missed.

This happens several more times, each time getting progressively harder to not beg. Shane finishes his notes for Winnipeg and turns off the TV. The vibration starts up yet again and he can’t help but whine in pleasure and frustration.

-

Ilya closes the laptop after scheduling a meeting between Shane and his agent for the next day and clicks the remote to turn the vibrator back on. He hears Shane’s whine and decides to up the ante. He clicks the up arrow for the first time, doubling the speed of the vibration.

“Shit, shit, fuck!” comes the sounds from the living room, music to Ilya’s ears. He walks over to find Shane sweating, panting, and lying on his back on the couch with his hands above his head clutching the armrest. He clicks the button again and the vibration changes pattern. Zip – Zip – Zip. Shane’s mouth falls open soundlessly.

Click. Zip Zip Ziiiip. Zip Zip Ziiiiip. Shane rocks his hips into the couch.

Click. zzzzzzzziiiiIIIIIPP zzzzzzziiiiiIIIIPPPP. “Please! Please fuck me, I can’t, I can’t– ” Shane stutters out. Watching Shane’s arousal grow to a fever pitch has made Ilya so fucking hard. He returns the vibrator to the level one setting again as he strips in front of Shane. Shane’s eyes track his every movement, and he pulls off his own shirt. Ilya yanks Shane’s track pants off and admires the plug as he lubes his cock.

He turns off the vibrator to a chorus of “pleases” from Shane. Ilya tugs on the plug and slowly pulls it out and places it on a coaster on the coffee table. Ilya turns Shane over so he’s flat on his stomach and slides home.

“So hot, Shane,” Ilya murmurs as he thrusts in and out. “You did so well. Now I will fuck you hard, yes?”

“Yessss,” he pleads. Ilya fucks Shane deep and fast, cupping his ass, licking his neck, and shutting off his brain, letting his body do whatever it needs.

Shane is crying, blissed out, and mutters, “I’m gonna…”

“Yes, sweetheart. Come on my cock. I’m filling you up just like you like,” Ilya says without stopping his thrusts.

Shane comes with a groan, an “Oh god”, and an “Ilya, fuck!”

Ilya comes to some of his favourite sounds. Once Ilya catches his breath, he slides out slowly, kisses Shane’s back, and whispers an order to stay while he gets a towel to clean up. When he returns, Shane is shivering. Ilya immediately helps him to a sitting position and kisses him while he cleans him up. Shane is still dazed and ignores Ilya’s attempts at cleaning him, instead focusing only on cuddling him. Seeing a lost cause, Ilya decides to pick him up bridal style and carries him to the tub. Shane finally stands on his own to allow Ilya to fill the tub but as a compromise, he’s hugging Ilya from behind.

Ilya gets into the warm water first, then beckons for Shane to join him. Shane sits between his legs, and Ilya wraps his arms around him. Ilya kisses his neck for a while before wiping his skin with a cloth. Shane hums contentedly. Ilya loves taking care of Shane when he’s like this, a sight no one else has ever or will ever see.

-

Shane is about to heat up his dinner when Ilya enters the kitchen with his overnight bag in hand.

“I need to go home tonight. Tomorrow is garbage day in my neighborhood.”

“Oh,” Shane says, feeling off-balanced.

“I will meet you at practice arena tomorrow at 10am?” Ilya approaches and wraps his arms around him. He kisses Shane’s nose then his forehead. Why does Shane feel like he did something wrong? Surely, he’s being ridiculous. Normal couples who don’t live together don’t spend 24/7 together. Ilya must want space. Just because Shane doesn’t feel the need for space doesn’t mean Ilya is the same. He can respect his wishes. Of course he can. He just needs to remember how to breathe and everything will be okay.

“Goodnight, Shane,” Ilya says and walks to the door.

“’Night,” is all Shane manages. He’s acting insane. He knows that. Being Shane’s personal assistant is very time consuming on top of being Shane’s boyfriend. It doesn’t leave him much time to do any personal errands. Knowing this is logical in no way settles his heart rate or his unreasonable fear that he did something wrong. He pulls out his phone.

[6:07pm]
Shane: Tell me I’m being ridiculous

Rose (BFF 🌹😇😈) Landry: You are being ridiculous!
Rose (BFF 🌹😇😈) Landry: What are you doing?

Shane: Freaking out over nothing, I think?

Rose (BFF 🌹😇😈) Landry: Been there, done that, expert at your service. Hit me

Shane: Ilya went home instead of staying the night.

Rose (BFF 🌹😇😈) Landry: Okay. Was this a sudden change in plan?

Shane: I guess not. He just… he normally stays over.

Rose (BFF 🌹😇😈) Landry: Did he say anything about why?

Shane: Just that it’s garbage day in his neighborhood tomorrow.
Shane: but
Shane: my parents were over today. My dad knows, and he was great. Then my mom walked in and I tried to tell her about me and about him. But she wouldn’t stop talking about you and I chickened out.
Shane: and now he went home

Rose (BFF 🌹😇😈) Landry: I see. Like, he left right after they did? Did he seem upset?

Shane: No. Um, we… we slept together. It was really hot actually. Then we took a bath together. Then I came into the kitchen for dinner and he kissed me and left.

Rose (BFF 🌹😇😈) Landry: Ah! I know exactly what’s happening.

Shane: you do?? Did I fuck everything up??

Rose (BFF 🌹😇😈) Landry: You are projecting.

Shane: ??

Rose (BFF 🌹😇😈) Landry: If you had really great sex that ended in BATH TUB CUDDLING you are absolutely fine and he does in fact have to take the garbage out and do any number of boring household chores.
Rose (BFF 🌹😇😈) Landry: You think you fucked up with your mom so you think he’s upset with you. But I bet he told you it was all okay?

Shane: …he did
Shane: so it’s really okay, you think? He’s not mad at me?

Rose (BFF 🌹😇😈) Landry: Nope. I will reiterate the beginning of this convo. You are being ridiculous.

Shane: thanks Best Friend. I needed that.

Rose (BFF 🌹😇😈) Landry: 😘
Rose (BFF 🌹😇😈) Landry: Anytime! Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to take a quick 20-minute powernap in costume before my next scene. See you tomorrow!! Xo

-

Ilya packs his biggest luggage bag full of clothes and toiletries to leave at Shane’s so he doesn’t have to come back to this apartment as often.

[9:00pm]
Ilya: Usually I whisper your schedule in your ear with my arms wrapped around you. This will have to do. Just like old times, yes?
Ilya: 10am – practice
11:30am – tape review
1:30pm – Not-Date with Rose at romantic Italian restaurant. No dessert allowed.
4:00pm – Meeting with Agent
5:00pm – Fucked against a wall by incredibly handsome boyfriend
6:00pm – Dinner, more sex
9:00pm – shower sex

Shane 🏒: it’s really hot when you’re jealous

Ilya: 😠

Shane 🏒: Goodnight, Boyfriend 😘

Ilya: 👨🏼‍🤝‍👨🏻😘

-

Shane goes to bed with a smile on his face, all previous worries forgotten.

-

Lunch with Rose begins with a hug and paparazzi snapping pictures from across the street.

“Geez, and I thought I was famous in Montreal. This is another level,” Shane comments with sympathy as they take their seats across from each other in the booth.

“Yeah, it’s pretty wild sometimes. But mostly it’s tiring, always having to be “on”, you know?”

“I do. It’s nice, and rare, to find someone you can just be yourself with. Even most of my team gets Shane Hollander, Captain, and not Shane Hollander, Person.”

“And was I right that Shane Hollander, Person, was being ridiculous yesterday?” Rose asks with a knowing smile. But before Shane can answer, a server arrives and takes their drink order, the model of professionalism, which Shane appreciates.

“I think so, ya. He texted me last night and was his normal, flirty, self. And today at the rink he came to find me twice for fake emergencies that were really just an excuse to see me,” he says with a smile.

“Told you! He’s head over heels for you. But now I need to know everything! How did it start??”

They enjoy a nice meal, getting to know each other better, and Shane has rarely felt so comfortable with another person. Rose is easy to talk to, funny, likes hockey, and none of their silences are awkward. If Shane was straight, she’d be the perfect woman for him.

When they part ways, there’s another hug, a friendly kiss on the cheek, and more paparazzi. Shane drives home and is happy to see Ilya’s car in the visitor lot.

He has a slight moment of panic when he sees Ilya’s big luggage bag in the entryway, though. Is he going somewhere??

“Are you going somewhere?”

Ilya pops his head around the corner, his face scrunched up in confusion.

“Of course not. Oh! The bag. Ah. I thought, if I have more clothes here, I don’t have to go home as often. Is okay?” He asks shyly. Shane launches himself at him.

“Yes, very okay. Perfect. You’re so smart,” Shane mutters in between kisses as Ilya holds him up under his thighs and he wraps his legs around Ilya’s waist. Ilya kisses back earnestly and pushes Shane up against the wall. They are both panting when Ilya puts him down and tearing their clothes off. Ilya turns him around and Shane plants his hands on the wall. He loses no time opening him up not bothering to be gentle and Shane is loving it. Ilya conjures lube and a condom from somewhere Shane can’t see and is stroking himself with one hand and maneuvering Shane back around with the other. He picks him up again, slamming him against the wall, and pushes in. There’s nothing sweet or tender about this. This is fucking and Shane is moaning and cannot get enough.

“Fuck me, fuck me, right there. So fucking strong. Jesus Christ,” Shane rambles, full of Ilya and cock hard. Ilya groans and stills, coming quickly. Before Shane can say anything else, Ilya pulls out and Shane stands up. Ilya kneels down in front of him and swallows Shane’s cock in his gorgeous mouth. Just like Ilya, it takes an embarrassingly short amount of time before he’s coming down his throat.

“Holy fuck, what the fuck was that,” Ilya muses as their bodies wind down, still on his knees, forehead resting on Shane’s thigh. He removes and ties off the condom then stands up slowly, kissing Shane at the top. They’re both smiling like idiots as they get dressed and make their way to the bedroom.

“Here, why don’t we make space in the closet for your stuff? This way it’s not getting wrinkled in your bag,” Shane offers.

“You are sure?”

“I think I made it clear how I felt downstairs,” Shane chuckles. He moves his workout clothes over and pulls out extra hangers from a top shelf, still in a package.

-

Shane is almost late to his video meeting with his agent, Farah, thanks to Ilya’s hair products taking up prime counter real estate in Shane’s ensuite.

“That’s what the cupboards are for! I like clean counters. Look, this whole shelf is empty. You can use that!”

Which led to a heated make out session with Shane sitting on the counter in question.

But now he is sitting in his office, Ilya on the other side of the desk listening in, as he connects to the call.

“Hi Shane, how are you?” Farah’s voice comes through, polite and professional as always.

“Good. Ya. Um. How are you?”

“Intrigued, I must say! Let’s get right into it, shall we? You are looking to trade out of Montreal. Can I ask why? It will help me with negotiations.”

“Right. I… This might sound… I don’t know how to explain it…” Suddenly Shane can’t find the words. It was easy to tell Ilya. But now saying he wants a nicer team makes him sound like a child, right? Before he can spiral too much, Ilya taps his foot against his and keeps it there. A grounding, solid presence.

Farah knows him well enough by now not to interrupt. She lets the silence sit and waits for him to find his words.

“Okay. I want to be on a team that actually likes each other. I only stayed with Montreal because of my mom, really. I know I used to say I’ll retire here, but I think that was more a fear of change. I’d rather move somewhere else and be happy even if it’s scary, than stay here and be a little miserable even if it’s comfortable in its own way. And. You should know…”

Shane takes a deep breath, looks to Ilya for strength, and says, without looking away from Ilya, “I’m gay.”

He looks back at the monitor now.

“Thank you for sharing, Shane. And I support you one hundred percent. Who else knows?”

“My personal assistant. My dad. Rose Landry. Jackie Pike. And maybe Hayden Pike, kind of. And now you. My mom doesn’t know yet. Please don’t tell her. I’ll do that, soon.”

“Is part of the reason you are looking for a trade because you are thinking of coming out and are afraid of how the Metros will react?”

“No. And yes. I don’t plan on coming out, but if it was ever leaked, I know the Metros wouldn’t be safe for me.” He can feel Ilya’s other foot rest by his other foot, forming a protective wall between Shane and the rest of the world.

“Understood. Well, you’ll need to waive your no-trade clause, but we’ll make sure there’s language on you having a final say. Do you have any teams you are considering?”

“Ottawa.”

A beat. She is staring at him and trying very hard to maintain a professional demeaner, he thinks.

“Okay. Ottawa. Anywhere else?”

“New York and Boston seem chill but I’d rather stay in Canada if I can. Vancouver seems nice. But Ottawa is kind of my only serious option.”

“I’ll start there then. Put feelers out. I can’t imagine any team not wanting you, to be honest. And they have cap space. Would you want to be Captain or Alternate Captain?”

“I… I don’t know. Yes? But also. No. Like. It’s not a deal breaker if I’m not Captain. But Alternate at the very least would be nice…”

“Do you want to be in Montreal for the playoffs?”

Shane snorts.

“With the way our defense has been playing, I doubt we’ll make it far anyway. I’d be okay to leave before playoffs.”

“Got it. Okay. I’m going to reach out to Ottawa quietly. I assume you don’t want Montreal to know just yet?”

“Yeah. Not until the last possible moment. It’s not about money so anything they try to counteroffer with is meaningless.”

“Understood. I’ll be in touch with updates as they come. Do you want them direct or through your P.A.?”

“Through Ilya is fine.” She nods. They say their goodbyes and Shane closes the laptop, heart pumping.

“Holy shit. Am I really doing this? This is the right call, right?”

Ilya comes around the desk, pulls Shane to a standing position, and hugs him tight.

“I think so. It will make you happy. And you deserve to be happy.”

That night, Twitter and Instagram explode with the paparazzi picture in front of the restaurant, and Ilya is hugging Shane tightly again, much to Shane’s delight. They are on the couch watching Vancouver play Colorado.

“You’re really hot when you’re jealous.”

“Am not jealous of Rose Landry.”

“Really? So, you didn’t create a fake account right now called @NoWayRosé24 where you fight with people who think Rose and I are together?” Shane says with a smirk which turns into a laugh when Ilya squeezes even tighter.

“Lies. Slander.”

“Oh ya? Give me your phone then,” Shane says as he reaches for Ilya’s phone on the side table only to be pulled back immediately and viciously attacked (kissed).

“Am not jealous of Rose,” he says again. “Is good thing, I know. Good cover. Just wish everyone could know that you are mine.”

Shane loves hearing that he belongs to Ilya.

“That’s right. Yours,” he says with a tender kiss which was immediately interrupted by a flurry of texts from the Metros group chat.

Drapeau, #30: CAP WTF!

Comeau, #47: YOU BAGGED LANDRY?

JJ, #16: No wonder you didn’t sneak me in! Afraid I would have stolen her from you, eh? 😉

Hayden: Jackie is so pissed at me dude how did you not tell me!

Clarkson, #91: You have to bring her to the next game!

Comeau, #47: And tell her to bring her hot friends

Shane: We’re just friends, guys, calm down. But she is coming to our next home game. And I will only introduce her (AS MY FRIEND) if you assholes are nice. And we win.

Drapeau, #30: This is the kind of motivation I need from my captain. I promise no pucks are getting past me! 🫡

Comeau, #47: Friends, sure. Send us a pic of her boobs if you want us to play well! That’s the kind of motivation I need!

JJ, #16: Comeau stfu!

Hayden: Seriously. He just said don’t be an asshole. You couldn’t last two seconds?

Comeau, #47: bunch of pussies!

Shane: Okay. Everyone but Comeau can meet her.

Comeau, #47: Fuck you!! You’re just afraid you’ll lose her to a real man.

Shane doesn’t dignify this with a response, trusting his two friends to have his back as he throws his phone across the couch.

“I’m feeling more confident about my decision, at least.”

-

A road trip to the west coast ends with two wins, one loss, and hotel sauna foreplay. Ilya is planning a private spa date to finish what they started.

There’s an interesting email in the inbox on the travel day. A private meeting request from a b.wiebe@ottawacentaurs.ca for later that day after they land. Ilya does a bit of research before accepting the invite and sending “b.wiebe” Shane’s home address.

Ilya is finally able to let Shane know of this new development on the drive back to his apartment.

“When we get back, you will shower and put on business casual clothes. Nothing Metros. You have a meeting with Brandon Wiebe at 4:30pm.”

“Wiebe? Wait. The new head coach of the Centaurs?” Shane confirms, although of course he already knows the answer.

“Yes. He requested private meeting with you. It will be at your apartment.”

“Holy shit. It’s really happening.”

“Is good thing, yes?”

“Yeah. I’m… excited, I think. I feel… like I’m checked out of Montreal. I wonder what he’s going to ask. Shouldn’t Farah be part of the meeting?”

“I think is more about fit than about negotiations.”

Shane falls silent the rest of the drive home. Ilya reaches a hand over the console and lays it on Shane’s thigh, grounding him.

-

“Mr. Hollander, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Brandon Wiebe,” a man in his forties who used to play hockey reaches out a hand to shake. Shane accepts the hand and welcomes him. Brandon Wiebe has a friendly face, a strong grip, and he takes his shoes off without being asked. Shane can feel his nerves retract by a fraction.

“This way to the office, can I get you anything to drink?”

“Just a water would be lovely, thanks.”

Waters in hand, they take a seat in the office and Ilya closes the door, leaving the two men alone.

“I’d like to cut to the chase, if you don’t mind,” Wiebe starts off and Shane thinks they will get along just fine. He nods.

“I was incredibly surprised to hear you are looking for a trade, but pleased and honored that you are considering Ottawa. Someone with your stats can go literally anywhere. Can I ask why?”

“It was brought to my attention that I’m good enough to make any team better at hockey. And like you said, I could probably go to any team. Which means I need to be very picky. The one thing I don’t have with Montreal is a sense of family or brotherhood. If I’m right, Ottawa might have the culture I’m looking for. Does it?”

The more Shane spoke, the bigger the smile on Wiebe’s face.

“It does. Which is why I am also very picky with who I add to the team. You can be the best player, but if you’re an asshole, I don’t want you. I’m going to ask some questions, and I need you to answer honestly.”

“Of course.”

Shane swallows. The urge to answer with whatever he thinks Wiebe wants to hear is strong. Being honest feels like a trap.

“Have you faced racial discrimination in the league, whether from other players or from management?”

This… is not what Shane expected.

“Yes. From both. And journalists.”

“Have you participated in homophobic discrimination?”

“Never. But I will admit that I don’t always shut it down in my locker room. This is something I want to change, though. I’m hoping with a better team, I can also be better.”

Wiebe nods along.

“Would you be comfortable if you found out a player on your team was gay or bi?”

“Yes,” Shane says without hesitation. Does this mean…? Could there be others?

“Would you be comfortable if members of staff were 2SLGBTQIA+?”

“Absolutely.” Shane remembers the comments mentioning a gay social media manager and is honestly impressed that Wiebe knew the full acronym.

“What is your opinion on hazing rookies?”

“I don’t allow it in my room. I was hazed and it was… extremely unpleasant. It didn’t make me feel closer to the team. If anything, it pushed me away. Since becoming Captain, I’ve banned it. It hasn’t made me popular, but the rookies seem thankful.”

“How do you like to bond with team members?”

Shane is silent for a moment while he gathers his thoughts. Wiebe asked for the truth. He takes a deep breath and imagines Ilya’s foot tapping his under the desk.

“This isn’t my strong suit. The Metros like to go to clubs and party, but I don’t really drink during the season, and I find clubs too loud. Like I said, I’m not exactly popular in my own locker room,” he gives a self-deprecating huff. “I prefer a get together at someone’s house where I have a chance at hearing the other person speak. I might sound boring, the social stuff is hard for me, but I’m always there when someone needs me.”

“Last question, do you like being Captain?”

Ilya asked him this question a little while ago. He thinks about whether his answer has changed.

“Yes and no. I’m ambitious and I’ve always ended up as the Captain on whichever team I’m on. Not being a Captain would feel like I’m failing. I like talking to the refs and running practices. I like one-on-one mentoring. But honestly, all the other aspects of being a Captain I can live without.”

“Thank you for your honesty, Hollander. I won’t talk about any negotiation stuff; that’s for your agent to work with us on. I wanted to make sure you’d be an asset to the room before I entertained the idea any further. Is there anything else you think I should know?”

He pauses before answering. He almost wants to share that he’s gay. Almost. Instead, he says, “No. I hope I get to meet the team one day.”

-

“The crowd is going wild seeing Rose Landry, star in the X-Squad movie series, sporting #24 Shane Hollander’s jersey!”

“That’s right, Dave. Rumours say the two are dating, and after tonight, I think we can safely say the rumours are true! Even Hollander’s personal assistant is in the box with her!”

“Look at the other Metros teasing Hollander during the warmups!”

“Even Boston look impressed!”

-

Ilya is totally normal about this. He’s in the box with Rose, Miles, and a couple other cast members. He tries to settle his face so it doesn’t show his annoyance at Rose wearing Shane’s jersey, but he’s not sure he’s succeeding. Rose leans over to him to say, “Remember it’s just a cover. When he looks over and blows a kiss this way, we both know it’s to you, not me.”

He does feel a little better after that, though. Rose is a good person and it’s not her fault that the world is stupid. He lets her chat to him and after a surprisingly short amount of time they are both giggling like co-conspirators.

“Okay, smash or pass, Boston edition,” he says and Rose lights up.

“Hit me!”

“Marleau.”

“Mmmmmm… Smash. He has kind eyes and a smokin’ bod,” she announces. Ilya can’t wait to tease his new friend Cliff with this information. There’s no way Cliff would believe it.

“St-Simon.”

“Pass, isn’t he married?”

“Is not part of the game! You assume they are available.”

“Fine, still pass. I don’t like his hair.” Ilya nods along, in complete agreement.

“Carmichael.”

“Pass, poor guy broke his nose one too many times,” she says.

“Bergeron.”

“Who?”

“Accurate.”

“Okay, let’s do the Metros now!”

Ilya snorts.

“Pike.”

“PASS! He’s cute as a button but more someone you have a relationship with, not a one-night stand.”

“Boiziau.”

“Smash smash smash. I tried to get him invited to New Year’s as well, but the cast had me limit the number of hockey players, and I chose Shane.”

“Well, you will meet him tonight at the bar, maybe you will still get your chance,” Ilya says with a wink and Rose laughs.

“Not if he thinks I’m dating Shane,” she says, not sad but not not sad either.

“Shane keeps telling the boys you are only friends. Maybe if you flirt with JJ they will start to believe him.”

Rose ponders this before she says, “but then the cover is broken.”

“I do not think Shane wants you to be unhappy. And neither do I. The cover was for New Year’s and worked perfectly.”

“I’ll think about it,” she promises.

They both smile at the jumbotron a couple minutes later when Shane scores and blows a kiss to the camera with a wink.

Rose and Ilya arrive at the bar before the Metros and are shown to a private room at the back. Shane is next to arrive, and Ilya wants nothing more than to give him a kiss for his game winning goal, but he’s cognizant that the room probably has security cameras, so he resists. They do share a heated gaze, though.

The rest of the boys file in in groups of twos and threes until the room is filled. Shane introduces Rose to each team member, many of whom are a little speechless. There were three standout exceptions. The first was the Pikes.

“Rose, this is my other best friend, Hayden, and his wife, Jackie,” Shane says, and Ilya only twitches slightly.

“What do you mean, “OTHER” best friend!?” Hayden playfully punches Shane in the shoulder.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, any friend of Shane’s is a friend of ours,” Jackie says, reminding Ilya that Jackie does in fact know that Shane likes him not Rose. Did Shane ever tell her that they are together? Rose smiles and hugs Jackie and they seem to share some sort of knowing look. Hayden is mostly oblivious, but this confuses Ilya. Didn’t Pike try to set Shane up with a guy before? Unless he thinks Shane is bi?

The next was JJ who was his usual over-the-top flirty self. He kissed her hand and winked before clapping Shane on the back and keeping a respectful distance between himself and Rose to show Shane that he wasn’t a threat. Rose and Ilya share a look and he can tell this was a huge turn on for Rose. Flirty AND considerate? Ilya makes a point to talk to JJ at some point this evening to convince him to shoot his shot.

The last was Comeau who was predictably an ass.

“I still don’t know how Hollywood managed to get you. If you ever want a real man, tell him to give me your number,” he said in a pathetic flirting attempt.

“Hollywood? First, you say that like it’s an insult, but that’s where I live. Second, I didn’t realize I was something someone could “get”. And finally, a real man? Is that how you talk about your Captain? Maybe Shane hasn’t told you, but I’m a huge hockey fan. In my world, a real man respects their Captain,” she says, sharply. Everyone in a five-foot radius of this conversation is quiet and watches this lethal interaction. Ilya wants to give her a kiss. Shane looks conflicted between pride in Rose and embarrassment over his teammate.

“Uh, I didn’t mean… I was just joking around…” Comeau stumbles, wide-eyed, and looking around his teammates for help. But even his closest friend, Drapeau, is not jumping in to help him.

“Maybe stick to something you’re good at, like warming the bench,” she says with a cutting smile and all the guys break the tension with an appreciative “oooooooh!” and “She got you good!”

He gives her a tight-lipped smile and heads to the bar for a drink, dragging Drapeau with him. The rest of the evening is less dramatic and Shane seems more at ease in this bar than he has in any club Ilya has seen him at.

Ilya brings JJ another drink.

“Thanks, mon ami!” They clink glasses.

“JJ, you need to know… Shane and Rose really are just friends. You should go talk to Rose.”

“What? No way. I know he says they are just friends, but that’s Shane being private.”

“No, man, I am with Shane all the time. I know. I swear he is telling the truth, they are just friends. Besides, I was playing Smash or Pass with her in the booth during the game. And your name came up. Want to know what she said?”

JJ tries not to look too hopeful and keeps a dubious look on his face. Ilya leans in and whispers, “She said smash smash smash.”

He looks him in the eyes, trying to find the lie or the catch.

“You are saying… maybe… there’s a chance?”

“Yes. I think she is waiting for you to make the first move.”

“And Shane would not be upset?”

“Not at all.”

A few minutes later, Ilya sees JJ talking to Shane in the corner. After the conversation, JJ is smiling as he strides over to Rose and Ilya.

“Rose! I hear we might have a friend in common besides Shane. You know the chef of Le Tambour? He and I have been friends since High School.”

“No way! Frankie is such a sweetheart! His restaurant was the first one the cast met at when we got to Montreal. His parmesan fries are to die for!”

Ilya quietly slips away to let them get to know each other in peace. He heads to the bar to get Shane another ginger ale and himself a beer (this place does not have a good vodka selection). Comeau and Drapeau are back for another round as well.

While Ilya waits for the bartender’s attention, a blonde woman approaches the packed bar and slides into the small space between Ilya and Drapeau. Comeau notices her and makes Drapeau turn around to say hello.

“Hey, can I buy you a drink?” Drapeau asks.

The woman politely declines and Comeau jumps in.

“Aww c’mon! Let my buddy get you a drink! He’s the goalie for the Metros and we just won our game tonight. Come celebrate with us!”

Ilya has a good sense about these things. He’s certain she would be interested if it wasn’t for the two less-than-attractive men hitting on her.

“I’m here with my friends…” she trails off.

“Tell them to come, too! We have a private room at the back with the rest of the Metros,” Drapeau adds.

She still doesn’t look convinced, and Ilya is pretty sure it’s because she doesn’t want her and her friends to be stuck with these two when there’s a whole team of good-looking Metros to choose from. Ilya decides to help everyone out.

“I am Shane Hollander’s personal assistant. He’s back there with his good friend Rose Landry. I can introduce you, if you like,” Ilya says with a kind smile. She finally smiles, possibly about Shane Hollander, possibly about Rose Landry, and possibly about Ilya being much hotter than those two oafs.

“Okay, I’m convinced. Let me grab my friends. You can order me a glass of red wine,” she says, still smiling, before turning around to find her friends.

“Good call with the Rose Landry hook!” Comeau says, slapping Ilya’s shoulder.

Lise, Joelle, and Natalie introduce themselves to the guys and Drapeau hands Lise her red wine. The six of them head into the private room, Ilya holding a beer and a ginger ale. He leads the women over to JJ and Rose, giving Rose a slight apologetic smile. He introduces her to the girls and Rose says, “Thank goodness! Me and Jackie were the only ladies here. So glad you could join us!” Rose, not missing a thing, seeing that they entered the room with Comeau and Drapeau at their heels, takes charge of introducing the ladies to all the players (JJ never leaving her side). Comeau and Drapeau are left behind, looking like they drank sour milk.

The room gets even more crowded when a dozen Boston players enter the room. Ilya, who was standing next to Shane, Pike, and Jackie, exchanges a look with Shane.

“Is okay I invited Marleau?” Ilya asks. Shane laughs, delighted, and shows him his phone, where he sent Cliff a message also inviting him. Ilya smiles wide.

Ilya and Cliff bro hug and Ilya catches Lise staring at Marleau’s buff frame. He waves her over.

“Cliff Marleau, this is my new friend Lise. Lise, meet Cliff Marleau, Captain of Boston
Raiders, best team in the league!”

Shane and the Pikes look outraged, Shane muttering “betrayed by my own friend” under his breath and Cliff laughs out loud.

“You remember that Montreal won tonight, right?” Shane says playfully.

“Don’t worry Hollander, Rozanov here knows true greatness when he sees it. And what about you, Lise, did you watch the game tonight?”

“I wish! My friends and I were working late tonight. I’m a veterinarian and we had an emergency surgery. It didn’t end well so we came out to try and cheer ourselves up,” she said sadly.

Cliff focuses on her and they continue talking, tuning everyone else out. Ilya and Shane step away to find Rose and JJ while Hayden and Jackie head out to relieve their babysitter.

Rose and JJ were standing quite close together, getting looks from some of the other players. Some were looking between Shane and JJ, trying to figure out if an argument was about to start.

JJ was also looking at Shane, making sure everything was still okay. Shane gave him a big smile and a reassuring clap on the back.

“Shaney! You didn’t tell me you were planning to sneak JJ into New Year’s! Now that I’ve met him, I’m disappointed you didn’t do it. Poor JJ was stuck at a less cool club for the biggest night of the year!”

“Yes, Capitaine, so selfish!”

Shane rolls his eyes and Ilya wants nothing more than to hold his hand. And wrap his arms around him. And kiss him on the temple. And whisper in his ear. And slip his hand into Shane’s back pocket.

-

Shane is having the best and worst night. Best, because his Best Friend is hitting it off with one of his closest friends and he couldn’t be happier for them both. Worst, because all he wants is for Ilya to hold him. To be able to lean into him. To feel Ilya’s lips on his in front of all these people. He knows he’s standing too close to Ilya, but he physically can’t move away. It’s like a force of gravity or magnetism keeping him there.

-

Ilya sees Joelle and Natalie talking with Andropov and the Boston back-up goalie Danilin. Comeau and Drapeau are once again out of the room, probably trying and failing to find women to hang out with them.

Back at Shane’s apartment, he finally holds Shane the way he had been daydreaming about all night. Shane sighs into it as if that’s all he could think about as well.

-

The next morning in the kitchen, Shane checks his phone and sees two texts waiting for him.

Rose (BFF 🌹😇😈) Landry: omg I think I’m in love

JJ, #16: CAPITAINE. Tabarnac…

He smiles at his two friends, sends a heart reaction to both, then promptly gets on his knees for Ilya.

-

A week later Ilya reads an email while sitting in the lobby of a hotel room in Toronto, nursing a lemon ginger tea. He jumps up and rushes to find Shane, ignoring his sore throat. Probably just tired from the travel and need to hydrate more.

He’s not in his room, the gym, or the breakfast buffet. He does see Hayden Pike, though.

“Pike! Where is Hollander?”

“In my room, on the phone with Rose, why?” Hayden gives him a weird, maybe knowing, look.

Ilya narrows his eyes and hurries to the elevator bank, checking the room assignments email, and dashing over to room 712 once the elevator spits him out on the seventh floor. He knocks, calling out Shane’s name. The door opens to Shane listening intently to someone (Rose, he assumes) on the phone. He smiles, puzzled, but steps aside to let him in.

“Ilya says hi,” Shane says, arching his eyebrows at Ilya. He must see Ilya’s impatience because he’s saying goodbye to Rose, promising to call her later.

“Everything okay?”

“Better than okay, I think. I got the first draft of the proposed contract with Ottawa,” Ilya says, holding out his iPad. Shane jumps at it.

“Holy shit. That’s a lot of money.”

“You will be highest paid MLH player ever with this contract.”

“Alternate Captain. Okay. I think I’m actually really okay with that?”

“They would give up a first, second, and third round draft picks for you,” Ilya says, motioning further down.

“Woah. Montreal might actually go for this.”

Shane looks up at Ilya, smiling and full of hope. Ilya reflects that right back with a wide grin, happy that Shane is happy. His nose tickles but he holds back a sneeze, not wanting to ruin the moment.

“I couldn’t have done this without you,” Shane says, stepping closer.

“Is not done yet. Scary part next. Letting Farah talk to Montreal to waive your no-trade clause. Coach and Management are about to be angry with you,” he says, unconsciously stepping closer to provide comfort. Shane steps the rest of the way, and they are holding on to each other’s arms, iPad forgotten on the bed. They lean towards each other for a kiss when –

*Click*

They hurriedly step away as Hayden walks into his room and sees them staring at him wide-eyed.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that? This is my room!”

Ilya relaxes, safe in the knowledge that Hayden is a well-meaning idiot. He finally lets himself sneeze, in the direction of Hayden’s bed.

“C’mon, man!” Hayden pouts.

“Bless you,” Shane says, at the same time. “And nothing, just, got some surprising news. I’ll tell you about it later,” Shane says, calming down.

“Something about Rose?”

“Yeah. Anyway, thanks for letting me take over your room. I’m going to take a nap before the game tonight. See you later, man,” Shane says, clapping Hayden on the back.

They take their leave and head to Shane’s room. Ilya sneezes again when they make it through the door.

“Hold up, are you getting sick?”

“Russians do not get sick,” Ilya maintains. All his symptoms can be easily explained by dehydration and hotel dust.

“Uh huh. Well, you have two options. Either you are not sick which means you are not afraid of getting me sick, or you are sick and you will let me take care of you.”

“Option three: If I am sick – and this is not me agreeing with you – then I should go to my room, so I don’t get you sick,” Ilya argues.

“Counteroffer, we both wear masks, you take medicine, and we nap together.”

Ilya really wants to argue, but napping with Shane does sound quite pleasant. And if the price is a bit of medicine, well, it’s not like it will hurt, right?

“Fine, Hollander. I will take useless medicine and take nap with you. Happy?”

“Very,” he says, smiling wide. Why does it feel like he lost this argument…

Shane finds the Dayquil he kept in his bag and force feeds Ilya a capful. They crawl into the bed and even though the medicine is non-drowsy, Ilya finds himself falling asleep quickly with Shane’s hand in his hair.

-

Shane doesn’t fall asleep right away. He appoints himself the Big Spoon and cards through Ilya’s beautiful curls. He usually shies away from sickness, but something about seeing Ilya at less than a hundred percent lit a protective fire in him. He wants to take care of this man, the way he always takes care of Shane. He’s glad it only took minimal coaxing to get him in line.

But now his thoughts turn back to Ottawa and Montreal. Ottawa’s deal is perfect by Shane’s standards. Now he has to worry about Montreal’s reaction. They’ll be confused and angry. The fans will feel betrayed. That might be the toughest part of all this, apart from not seeing Hayden and JJ every day. He’ll face a lot of backlash from the City of Montreal. Of course, Ottawa will welcome him home with open arms, so maybe he can focus on that instead. And his mother…

Shane has no idea how she’ll react. Maybe he needs to tell her everything before he springs this on her. He should ask his dad how best to approach this. Shane’s head concocts many variations of this conversation before he finally drifts into a fitful sleep.

His alarm wakes them up. Shane feels decidedly unrested. From what he can see of Ilya around the mask, he seems to have gone from mediocre to bad.

“Shane, I think I am dying. In lieu of flowers please send money to animal shelters,” Ilya says, dramatically, without leaving the bed. Shane gives him a soft smile.

“Noted. Can you do me a favour? Keep the bed warm for me while I go play hockey. I’ll want to crawl into a warm bed after the game.”

“Ah, yes, I will do this just for you. Am good assistant,” Ilya mumbles, rolling over and closing his eyes again. Shane snickers.

-

Ilya wakes up again sometime later with Shane crawling into the bed.

“What about your game, sweetheart?”

“Oh you are really out of it, eh? The game is over. We lost, but I scored twice.”

“Is because your defense don’t do their job. You tell them to block puck, yes?” Ilya says with his eyes closed, big spooning Shane this time.

“I thought you didn’t watch the game? But yeah, pretty much,” Shane says with a resigned sigh.

“Will not be your problem for much longer,” he says, squeezing Shane, wishing he could kiss his neck without this stupid mask on his face. “Am feeling much better…” he tries.

“Sure you are,” Shane chuckles. “But you’ve been good, so how about we shower together?”

At this, Ilya opens his eyes and nods into Shane’s neck.

Shane spends most of the shower worshipping Ilya’s body (soaping it up) and when Ilya is so hard he might pass out from lack of blood in his head, Shane steps back and tells him to watch while he jerks himself off.

Fuck fuck fuck.

Ilya didn’t know it was possible to get even harder. His cock is pulsing and he grabs it and strokes, mimicking Shane’s tempo. Shane’s eyes dart down to watch. He speeds up. Ilya watches Shane’s fist stutter and catches Shane’s face as it changes from heated desire to blissful pleasure with a delicious moan. Shane’s eyes stare into Ilya’s while he comes and the sight is too much for Ilya who finds himself coming hard with a grunt. Within seconds, Shane is back in his arms, helping the water wash away their release.

-

Before Shane can rebuff Ilya’s attempt at a kiss (he really can’t get sick right now), the fucking fire alarm goes off.

Fuck.

They stare at each other, wide-eyed. Ilya turns off the water and they barely dry off before throwing clothing on and slipping on shoes and jackets (luckily all of Ilya’s stuff is in this room). Shane exits first, to a crowd of players in the hallway grumbling and making their way to the stairs. Ilya follows thirty seconds later when the coast is clear of hockey players at least. They find each other at the muster point across the street and hear the fire truck getting closer.

“Shane! Did you just get out of the shower, man?” Hayden asks, noticing his wet hair.

“Uh, well it went off while I was still in there, actually,” Shane admits. Hayden takes his toque off and hands it to Shane.

“Here buddy, if you stand out here with wet hair you’ll catch a cold,” Hayden says, Dad-Mode activated it seems. Shane chuckles.

“Thanks, you’re a good dad, Hayd,” Shane teases.

“Fuck you, of course I am,” he says with a proud smile. “Oh man, Rozanov, you too?” Hayden says. “Sorry I only have the one toque.”

“Is okay, am Russian, we do not get sick from the cold.”

“That’s because you’re already sick, idiot,” Shane says.

“Oh shit, Shane give him the toque, then. We don’t want it to get worse!”

Ilya looks oddly touched for half a second before his aloof persona slides back in place.

“No no, we cannot have Prince of Hockey getting sick. I shall suffer for greater good,” Ilya says, placing a hand on his chest.

“Ha ha. Where’s JJ?” Shane asks, looking around.

“He’s on the phone back there,” Hayden says, pointing behind them. “And some of the guys went out, they probably aren’t back at the hotel, yet,” Hayden explains. Sure enough, now that Shane looks around, he notices half a dozen players that aren’t accounted for. He checks the group chat and makes those players sound off to make sure they aren’t stuck inside the hotel for some reason. Everyone checks in, and the firetruck arrives.

Twenty minutes later, they are allowed back inside (false alarm), and Hayden follows Shane back to his room.

“I was watching a scary movie… mind if I hang out for a bit?”

Shane hesitates for half a second before saying yes. How is he going to explain Ilya’s bag? But if he says no, that’s more suspicious… Shane has never said no when Hayden needed to calm down after a scary movie… He can see Ilya also trying to think quickly as the three of them walk into Shane’s room, ditching their jackets.

When the door closes behind them, Hayden notices the extra bag immediately, as well as the rumpled bed sheets, and then stares at their wet hair. Shane’s stomach starts to drop.

“So… you guys going to come clean now or what?”

“W-What?” Shane stutters, not willing to admit anything yet. Ilya looks like he’s ready to tackle Hayden if he says the wrong thing.

Hayden sighs.

“Look, I know I’m not the brightest tool in the shed, but I hope you know you can tell me anything, Shane. Nothing you say will change anything. You’ll always be my best friend. Jackie and I love you no matter what, okay?”

Shane manages not to correct his “brightest tool in the shed” metaphor with a herculean effort, and instead, takes a deep breath.

“Thanks, man. Um. Ya. Ilya and I are… together,” he finishes, heart racing, still not used to saying these words out loud. He looks over to Ilya who’s smiling softly.

“Congrats, guys! Now I can finally tell Jackie that I figured it out. She wouldn’t tell me anything about the advice she gave you a little while ago. And now I feel extra bad about blabbing to the team that you got laid. Sorry about that. I’m sure you don’t want attention on your personal life with assholes like Comeau and Drapeau and others.”

Shane’s shoulders unclench and he gives Hayden a big hug, happy that his best friend feels like his best friend, again. Ilya sneezes and Shane lets go, finding the Nyquil this time and passing it to Ilya with a pointed look. Ilya rolls his eyes but takes a swig. Hayden watches the dynamic with a chuckle.

“Like a married couple already, eh? Well, I’ll leave you to it, don’t catch his cold, and Ilya, if you break his heart, I’ll break your legs. G’night!” Hayden heads to the door with a wave, ducking to avoid the pillow Ilya threw in his direction.

“What about the scary movie?” Shane reminds him.

“I’ll go bug JJ, don’t want to interrupt anything!” Hayden winks.

When the door closes behind Hayden, Ilya comes up behind Shane and wraps his arms around him.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah… that’s… like four people know we’re together, and two people know I’m gay? It’s a little overwhelming, but I’m not upset about it. Just need you to keep me grounded so I don’t spiral.”

“Always,” Ilya whispers into his neck. They undress, put N95 masks back on, and cuddle in bed. Shane’s not sure if that’s enough to protect him against getting sick, but he doesn’t care. He’s willing to risk it to be in Ilya’s arms. He’s willing to risk a lot, apparently, and the thought barely scares him. It’s hard to feel anything other than comfort when Ilya is wrapped around him.

“What about you? I’ve told a few people… is there anyone in your life you want to share this with? Svetlana?” Shane offers cautiously.

“I would love to tell Sveta, but only if you are sure is okay?”

“Definitely. She already knows part of it, right? You should tell her.” For this, Ilya squeezes him even tighter and Shane has maybe never felt happier.

-

Hayden calls Jackie as soon as he’s back in his room.

“Hi babe!”

“Jacks! OH MY GOD. I finally figured it out!! The P.A.!!!”

Jackie laughs her musical laugh.

“So what gave it away?”

“Well, lots of little hints here and there, but then tonight the fire alarm went off and they both showed up outside with wet hair, both said they were in the shower went the alarm went off, and when we went back to Shane’s room Ilya’s bags were there, which meant they were showering together!” he says, quite proud of himself for putting everything together.

“Good job, babe. What did you say to him?” Jackie asks, worry seeping into her tone.

“Just that we love him no matter what, nothing changes about our friendship. Gave him a hug. It went well!”

“I’m so proud of you. Now I can finally invite them both over for dinner! God, I wish I could tell the WAG chat. I’m sitting on the JUICIEST gossip!!” Jackie says, longingly.

“It also means him and Rose Landry really are just friends. Maybe we can invite her over, too?”

“Oh my god yes, she was so cool when we met her last week!”

“I get the feeling we might also want to invite JJ…”

“So, we were right!?!? TOO. MUCH. TEA. Hayden this is so unfairrrr!!”

-

Shane wakes up the next day with a sore throat and suddenly wishes he could control himself better around Ilya.

Chapter End Notes

Next thing to look forward to: Shane meeting some Ottawa players at the All-Stars and will Yuna find out before Shane's trade is made public?

Love seeing all the comments and kudos, you are guys are the best!! <3

Threads: @stephsnerdkingdom

Chapter 17: Conversations / All-Stars

Chapter Summary

Previously on PA Wanted: Shane talks to Ottawa and Rose meets the team.

On today's episode: Shane shares his secrets with everyone closest to him.

Chapter Notes

This chapter got away from me! I feel like it's a little all over the place, but hopefully it makes sense. If you notice a mistake/discrepancy, let me know in the comments!

Metrois = Group chat for Hayden, JJ, and Shane. Trois = three in french. Metros + Trois = Metrois

Metrois
Hayden: Dinner at my place Thursday night. Shane, I already cleared it with Rozanov. JJ, I also cleared it with Rose’s P.A. Can’t believe I need to do that just to have dinner with you guys jfc

Shane: Yup, we’ll be there. Should be fun!

JJ, #16: Thanks for inviting me AND ROSE LANDRY. No I will never be cool about this. But Shane, who’s “we”???? 👀 👀

Shane: Ilya and I are riding together since he’ll already be at my place.

JJ, #16: Oh right, makes sense...

“How long do you think it’s going to take JJ to figure it out?” Shane asks Rose on speakerphone on Tuesday.

“Ooooh you guys should start off acting like normal friends, and then as the night progresses get more and more touchy-feely! The rest of us will act like nothing is strange and we can watch my almost-boyfriend freak out!”

“Yes! We must do this!” Ilya chimes in from the kitchen.

“Hell yes. I’ll let Hayden and Jackie know the plan,” Shane says with a smirk.

On Wednesday, social media explodes with pictures of Rose and JJ and the backlash online is fierce. So much so that Shane (Ilya) asks his agent to help him come up with a statement to post. His mom also calls him later in the day.

“Honey, I’m so sorry about Rose. She seemed like such a nice girl. I’m a little shocked at JJ, though. Can’t say I’m very pleased with him right now.”

“Mom! How many times do I have to tell you that Rose and I were only ever friends? I helped introduce her to JJ and I’m very happy for them,” Shane says, temper rising until he looked up and saw Ilya’s fake outrage at Shane taking credit for his match making. This succeeds in calming Shane down enough to say, “I also need to talk to you about something. If you and dad are still coming for brunch on Sunday, we can talk then.”

“Of course we’re coming on Sunday, Shane. Did you want me to help you draft a statement about Rose? I guess it’s a good thing you guys never made it official on social media…”
Shane takes a very deep breath.

“Made what official, our friendship? And no, Farah is helping me draft a statement to tell social media, and you, apparently, that I’m happy for Rose. I’ll talk to you on Sunday. Say hi to dad for me,” Shane says in one breath and hangs up, falling gracelessly onto the couch with a huff.

Ilya walks over with an emotional support ginger ale and tucks Shane into his side.

“Farah sent draft statement already. I made some tweaks; it was too corporate. Want me to post it?” Ilya says, kissing Shane on the temple. Shane just nods.

@ShaneHollanderHockey24: Did you guys know that a man and a woman can be friends? According to the internet lately, this phenomenon is brand new and has never happened before. Me and @RoseLandryOfficial are very happy to formally announce our Friendship to the world. @JJBoiziau16 I’ll see you at practice tomorrow, buddy!

@JJBoiziau16: À demain, Capitaine!
@NoWayRosé24: I TOLD YOU SO
@HaydenPikeWinger: Crazy time to be alive
@RoseLandryOfficial: My name is Rose Landry, and I approve this message 😎. @ShaneHollanderHockey24 Can we get friendship bracelets now?

Hayden calls a few minutes later which prompts Shane to actually read what Ilya posted. After they hang up, Shane straddles Ilya and kisses him until their lips are raw.

-

On Thursday, Ilya is sitting on a kitchen bar stool with Arthur on his lap chatting with Jackie about shenanigans they can get up to to mess with JJ. Hayden and Shane are in the living room building LEGO houses with the twins.

“By the end of the night Shane definitely needs to be sitting in your lap,” Jackie says and Ilya nods at this piece of wisdom.

“Yes, and maybe during dinner I wipe something off of his chin?”

Jackie cackles delightedly.

“Definitely! Oh, you can also whisper fake secrets into each other’s ears and giggle.”

“Pet names are too obvious, yes? But maybe I pretend I am confused with English and call him “My Shane”?”

“Oh my god yesss.”

Their planning is interrupted by a knock at the door. Showtime!

JJ and Rose enter and say hello to everyone. The twins ignore them completely in favour of completing their housing complex on schedule. Uncle Shane may have had some influence on them. Arthur decides he wants to help and has been tasked by his sisters with making trees.

Jackie offers Rose a glass of wine which she happily accepts, and they make their way to the kitchen. The boys head to the living room, and Ilya makes sure to give Shane a friendly amount of distance. He doesn’t even sit right next to him! He’s so good at this. He’s sitting on a gray chair opposite JJ while Shane and Hayden share the couch. The girls join them with their glasses of wine and JJ gets up to offer his seat while he grabs beer from the fridge.

“So how did everyone meet?” Rose asks the group once JJ is back and sitting on her chair’s armrest. Hayden starts them off.

“Me and JJ met first. Same draft year and we were both drafted by the Metros.”

“I was a second-round draft pick, Pike was third,” JJ says with a wicked smile and Ilya tries very hard to contain his laughter.

“Shut up!” Hayden squawks and Jackie places her hand on his thigh in a placating manner.

“Then I joined the team the following year, and in my first year we went to a club and Hayden met Jackie,” Shane picks the story back up.

“That’s right, one of my girlfriends was going through a bad break up so we took her out to the club! She was pretty annoyed I found the love of my life that night,” Jackie says with a laugh.

“That was, what, five or six years ago? Then this past October I hired Ilya as my personal assistant and we became friends.”

“Ah, not quite, Hollander. I chose to become your personal assistant. Very different,” he teases and Shane rolls his eyes. He can see Rose’s eyes sparkling in delight and glance quickly at JJ for his reaction, but he simply takes a sip of his beer and offers no comment. His hand is on the back of her neck, thumb slowly rubbing against her skin.

“You’ve only been friends for a few months? Oh wow, you seem so much closer. I would have assumed you’ve known each other for years! You guys had fun at our New Year’s party, right?” Rose asks with fake innocence.

“WHAT? Cap, you brought Rozanov instead of me? No offence Roz,” JJ adds.

“Um, ya? Didn’t I tell you? You know I’m terrible with names and faces. Ilya makes all that stuff a lot easier, so I asked him to be my plus one,” Shane responds knowing full well he never told him about the plus one thing. JJ looks like he’s going to spill his beer with the way his arms are flailing about.

“I COULD HAVE DONE THAT FOR YOU! Again, no offence, Roz.”

“I am starting to take offence… JJ, I thought we were buddies!” Ilya says pretending to be hurt.

“Well, I forgive you because you convinced me to talk to Rose. But Shane and I are fighting again.”

“Awww you can’t be mad at my Best Friend!” Rose says, kissing JJ’s bicep. JJ blushes and folds like a napkin.

Jackie’s parents arrive and the kids all gleefully run to them, excited for their upcoming sleepover.

At the dinner table, Ilya brings Shane a glass of water and lightly grazes his fingertips across Shane’s neck as he settles into the chair next to him. Shane smiles but otherwise does not react. JJ sees the interaction and furrows his brows. Rose, stifling a smile, asks Jackie about her profession before she had kids. The meal is delicious but for fun Ilya sneaks some of his vegetables over to Shane’s plate. Shane, understanding the assignment, rolls over a couple baby potatoes to Ilya’s plate. They smile at each other before returning to their food. JJ’s eyes bounce between them, trying to figure out what just happened. He looks around the table and no one else comments.

“So, JJ, what do you think about our defense this season?” Shane asks. JJ goes off on their lack of teamwork and Ilya places his hand on the back of Shane’s chair. JJ notices but doesn’t miss a beat before he continues. Hayden asks a follow up question and JJ is now ranting about Drapeau in net. Ilya leans in and whispers into Shane’s ear, “I think this is going very well, don’t you?”

Shane tilts his head towards him, smiles, and nods slowly. They hold each other’s gaze for a beat too long before turning their attention back to JJ who truly looks lost at this point. He’s searching everyone else’s faces, but no one is giving him a “are you seeing what I’m seeing” look. JJ swallows, frowns, and switches to wine.

Dessert is a delicious caramel apple crumble for everyone but Shane, who gets a fruit medley. Ilya overdoes it on the whipped cream for his pie and holds out a forkful to Shane’s mouth to force feed him. Shane laughs and dodges the fork, and they play fight over the food.

“It’s not part of my diet!”

“Live a little!”

“No!!”

“Jackie make delicious pie, is apples! Put in mouth!” Ilya’s English is getting worse as the tussle goes on.

“She also gave me this nice bowl of fruit, get that fork full of sugar away from me!”

Ilya succeeds in splattering Shane’s face with whipped cream, to everyone’s laughter except JJ who is staring open-mouthed and wide-eyed at everyone’s utter lack of appropriate (in his mind) reaction.

Shane licks his lips to taste some of the whipped cream while staring at Ilya, who’s face probably looks like a predator about to pounce.

“Get a room, you two!” Jackie teases and everyone (but JJ who still looks confused) laughs. Shane wipes his face with a napkin, and everyone goes back to their dessert like nothing strange happened.

“How’s filming going, Rose?” Shane asks. Rose goes off on a tangent about the Assistant Director not yelling “cut” loud enough which prompts JJ to compare that to their assistant coach’s abysmal whistling technique. Shane grabs a blueberry from his bowl and tries to toss it into Ilya’s mouth. They giggle in surprise when he gets it on the first attempt and then quietly lose it when all the other ones bounce off his face.

“Okay… what…” JJ starts but then Jackie and Rose both get up to grab the plates and cutlery to bring it to the kitchen. JJ follows suit and Ilya can hear whispering in the kitchen.

“I think is almost time for you to sit in my lap. And you can kiss me any time after that,” Ilya whispers. Hayden groans but then throws his hands up in a conciliatory manner saying in a low voice, “I guess this is what it was like when Jackie and I first started dating, eh?”

Shane smirks and says, “yep, pretty much!”

“Well, I think JJ is losing his mind and it’s fuckin’ hilarious, so keep it up.”

They head to the living room again and this time Ilya sits on the couch and pulls Shane onto his lap. He wraps his arms around Shane’s waist and Shane leans into him with a sigh.

“Uhhhh… wait a minute…” JJ starts but before he can finish his thought, Rose sits on his lap and declares a game of Truth or Dare. JJ is subtly trying to get Hayden’s attention but he’s being steadfastly ignored.

“Shane, you first. Truth or Dare,” Rose says.

“Dare.”

“I dare you to kiss Ilya,” she says with a devilish smile. JJ chokes on his sip of wine.

“Done,” Shane says and he turns to Ilya and gives him a quick peck. JJ almost looks normal.

“Okay, Jackie, Truth or Dare.”

“Hmmm, Truth!”

“How big is Hayden’s dick?” Shane asks and both Hayden and JJ gasp out loud. Ilya and Rose shriek and Jackie has to block her mouth with her hand to make sure she doesn’t spit her wine.

“A very respectable six and a half inches,” she says after recovering and Hayden hides his face in her shoulders.

“Ilya, Truth or Dare,” Jackie asks.

“Dare, obviously.”

“I dare you to French kiss Shane,” she says to Rose’s delight.

“Easy, come here, My Shane,” Ilya says, using his hand to guide Shane’s chin to just the right angle before kissing him. He opens his mouth and licks at Shane’s lips until they part for him, and then they are chasing each other’s tongues. Jackie, Rose, and Hayden all go “ooooooh!” and JJ’s mouth is simply wide open in shock.

“You guys can stop anytime now, you know,” Hayden says and Shane gives him in the finger, still kissing Ilya.

“Hang on. Shane. Capitaine. Are you. Is he. What the fuck is happening right now??” JJ finally cracks, at his wits end. But he’s not angry or disgusted, merely confused out of his mind.

Shane and Ilya finally part lips and join in the laughter.

“Sorry JJ, we wanted to see how long it would take you to notice. I’m gay. Ilya is still my P.A. but he’s also my boyfriend now.”

Ilya sees how easy it is for Shane to share this compared to the previous times. Maybe being surrounded by his closest friends who are already so supportive has given him a sense of security. This makes Ilya really happy.

“Fuck you I thought I was going crazy! I mean, I’m happy for you, Cap. Of course. Thank you for FINALLY telling me. When did these guys find out?” JJ asks, holding Rose tight, who kisses him on the cheek.

“Well Jackie and Hayden kind of figured out I was not straight a while ago, before I even officially said it out loud to myself. Rose saw through me within the first five seconds of us meeting. And Ilya and I flirted a lot until we finally got together, and then we pretended it was just sex for a little while. But ya, boyfriends now. Hayden put two and two together about Ilya at our last road game, when the fire alarm went off. And I’m sure it goes without saying that you can’t tell anyone,” Shane adds more seriously.

“You have my word, Capitaine. But are you saying this idiot figured it out before I did?” JJ says, pointing to Hayden.

“Hey!”

-

Shane feels buoyant with happiness. His closest people know. None of them hate him. He knows it can’t leave this circle, but he’s glad to have a safe space in the madness that is hockey. He can only hope that the conversation with his mother goes even half as well.

The conversation breaks up a bit with side chats.

“I used to not be comfortable with PDA, but now I’m realizing it’s just because I didn’t like doing anything with women to begin with, so of course I wasn’t comfortable doing stuff in public,” he says quietly to Ilya, who is looking at him confused.

“Oh, sorry. PDA. It stands for Public Displays of Affection. So like, holding hands or kissing in front of other people,” Shane explains.

“Ah! Makes sense. And you are okay with PDA with me? Because I do not think I can keep my hands off you when we are around safe people,” Ilya almost pouts and Shane smiles.

“Very okay with it. Though maybe not French kissing unless it’s a Dare situation. But kissing and cuddling is very good.” This earns him a breathtaking smile.

-

Ilya decides his next mission this evening is to test Shane’s PDA boundaries and slides a hand into Shane’s back pocket with a sly smile. Shane smiles back. Noted! Ass-touching is okay.

A few minutes later, Ilya pretends there’s a stray eye lash on Shane’s cheek, but really this is an excuse to touch his beautiful freckles. Another smile.

Then he runs a hand through Shane’s soft hair. His eyes soften in enjoyment.

With his other hand, he grabs Shane’s hand. Shane then initiates a very competitive round of Thumb War. Ilya wins, of course, but Shane is rambling on about cheating or something. Ilya kisses his neck, not listening. Shane sighs in defeat and comfort. (Neck kissing, check!)

JJ announces a game of Never Have I Ever, so Ilya pauses his mission. Hayden gets everyone another round and when he sits back down next to Jackie, JJ gets them started.

“Never have I ever had sex in a movie star’s trailer!”

Rose blushes but is laughing when she and JJ take a sip. Then it’s Rose’s turn.

“Never have I ever kissed a man!”

Rose, Jackie, Shane, and Ilya all take a sip. After a beat, so does JJ.

“What!?” multiple voices cry out at once.

“Spin the bottle in high school. Landed on a guy and neither of us wanted to be out of the game. Was just a quick peck!”

Hayden’s turn.

“Never have I ever fooled around in the Metros locker room!”

Hayden, Jackie, JJ, Shane, and Ilya all take a sip.

“WAIT!” Hayden shrieks.

“IT WAS YOU GUYS? THE CONDOM?” JJ bellows then laughs hysterically.

Shane blushes and Ilya smirks, nodding proudly.

“What’s this about a condom?” Rose asks, full of intrigue. Shane explains the story and she’s rolling her eyes hard at the lack of perception in boys. Ilya is getting hard listening to the story while the sexy subject of the story is sitting on his lap.

Jackie goes next.

“Never have I ever given a blow job.”

Jackie, Rose, Shane, and Ilya all take a sip. Ilya could lean forward right now and prove his skills on Shane. The thought sends even more blood to his cock.

“Never have I ever come in a movie theatre,” Ilya says, squeezing Shane’s waist. Shane, Ilya, Hayden, and JJ all take a sip. Shane can certainly feel how hard he is at this point, which might explain why Shane is moving around as if trying to get more comfortable. The menace.

“Girls? You haven’t?” Shane asks.

“I’ve made someone come, but let’s just say the boys were less than successful in returning the favour,” Rose says and Jackie clinks her glass against Rose’s in solidarity.

“Hayden, your poor wife!” Ilya teases. Before Hayden could defend himself, Shane pipes up, clearly quite tipsy.

“Never have I ever been a cockwarmer,” he says and promptly takes a sip. Alone. Ilya’s cock twitches.

“A what?” Hayden asks. JJ looks at Ilya in admiration. Jackie and Rose try very hard not to laugh.

“Wait, why was I the only one to drink? Rose, Jackie?!?”

“Sorry Shaney, never did that!” Jackie says and her smile breaks through.

“Me neither,” Rose admits.

“Can someone please explain…” Hayden says looking around for help.

“Ah, let me. It means Shane puts my cock in his mouth or his asshole and just leaves it there, keeping me warm while I do other things, like work or sleep,” Ilya says quite proudly. JJ leans over and high fives him. Shane buries his face into Ilya’s neck, deeply embarrassed. Hayden chokes on his own saliva and the girls are blushing.

“You’re a freak, Capitaine!!”

“I’m going to jump off a cliff, don’t mind me,” he mumbles.

“Is okay sweetheart! Is very hot.”

“I thought it was normal!”

“Is normal for us.”

“Awww don’t be embarrassed! It sounds super hot!” Rose says and JJ looks like his wildest dreams are about to come true.

“I’m learning so much right now,” Jackie says, eyes bouncing between Shane and Ilya.

“Okay, it’s time to get kinkier. Let’s see how crazy these guys are,” JJ declares and Shane sinks even deeper into Ilya’s neck. Ilya cards through his hair to calm him down and holds him tight to keep him safe.

“Never have I ever had a threesome!” JJ says.

JJ and Ilya both take a sip and Rose demands details.

“After we won the Cup the first time, we were in Montreal. Went to the bar. Two puck bunnies were all over me. I brought them home. It was hot as hell!”

“First time was in Russia. Two women. Agreed, very hot. Second time was in Boston. A guy and a girl. They were a couple and wanted a third. I think we were all bi. Was even hotter.” Shane untucked himself from his hiding spot and bonked their foreheads together with a face like an angry kitten.

“Do not worry, sweetheart. No one else is allowed to see you like that. Is just for me. No threesomes for us,” Ilya comforts him and Shane softens. The girls coo.

“Never have I ever used a sex toy with a partner,” Rose declares.

Rose, JJ, Shane, and Ilya take a sip.

“Hayden, I think we need to up our game, our friends are all freaks!” Jackie says, eyes wide.

“Our sex life is great!” Hayden says, defensively. Jackie ignores him and asks what sex toys everyone has used.

Rose describes a “butterfly” clitoris vibrator that somehow makes Jackie’s eyes go wider. JJ talks about his stash of silk ties he uses for bondage play (a quick shared “NO” look passes between the married couple). Ilya admits to also using a blindfold on a partner (Jackie seems somewhat more intrigued by this one).

“What about you, Shane?” Rose asks. Shane mumbles an answer.

“A what?” JJ says, leaning forwards.

“A butt plug, okay!” Shane says, hiding his face in Ilya’s neck again, face blushing. Ilya smiles and explains the vibrator with the remote.

“That’s how mine works, too! My ex had the remote and would change the frequency or turn it off randomly, so I never knew what was coming next. It was hot as hell,” Rose admits which coaxes Shane to emerge from his safety cuddle.

“Oh, we are so doing this,” JJ announces, tightening his grip on a compliant Rose.

Hayden whispers something into Jackie’s ear and she nods her head and kisses him.

-

A drunk Shane and Ilya stumble into the apartment and finally get to touch each other again after being very responsible in the car service and the elevator. Shane is realizing that it’s getting harder and harder not to touch Ilya at all times, and he’s not mad about it.

“So I guess we’re freaks, huh?” Shane says a little bashfully.

“Is nothing freaky about doing what makes us feel good,” Ilya says, kissing his neck.

“Yeah. It does feel good. JJ mentioned the bondage stuff… and you said, about blindfolding? Those could be fun…”

“Yessss, I want to tie you up so you can only take what I give you,” Ilya murmurs into his ear, and Shane feels like his skin is on fire.

“I need… layers off… need to touch you,” Shane’s alcohol-brain manages to get out. They tear their clothes off and fall onto the couch together. Shane lays on top of Ilya, their hard cocks lined up, and they kiss deep into each other’s mouths while rutting against each other. They moan at the electric feeling, and Shane reaches between them to spread their precome over their cocks, then spits in his hand for more lubricant, and wraps his fist around both, adding even more friction. Heat is rising but before it gets too far, Ilya is maneuvering them into a sitting position. He pulls Shane onto his lap, almost how they were sitting together at Hayden’s, but with Shane facing him instead.

“Let me show you what I wanted to do with you in front of your friends,” Ilya says, his lips against Shane’s neck. Shane nods, wondering if it will be the same things he was also hoping for.

Ilya grabs lube from the side table (when did that get there?) and coats his fingers. He teases Shane’s hole.

“Never have I ever brushed my teeth,” Ilya says.

“I think I’ve had enough to drink,” Shane responds through lidded eyes.

“In this version, you do not drink. You take something else instead,” Ilya says and then inserts his finger, eliciting a moan from Shane.

“Never… have I ever… eaten dinner,” Shane says, understanding the game. Ilya moves his finger in and out, slowly, and Shane whimpers.

“Never have I ever come hands free,” Ilya says and Shane nods, earning him a second finger.

“Never have I ever… had sex in a car,” Shane says. Ilya’s hand speeds up and he throws in some scissoring motions as well. Shane’s mouth is open against Ilya’s cheek, breathing hard.

“Never have I ever been fucked by my P.A.”

Shane groans and nods ferociously. Ilya adds a third finger, keeping the same speed, causing Shane to cry out in pain for half a second before it turns into pleasure.

“Imagine me doing this at Pike’s? My hand hidden down the back of your jeans? You have to try to hide it, try to stay still. Let’s practice,” Ilya demands.

“Fuck,” Shane says almost incoherent with desire. He takes a deep breath and tries to stay still, tries not to push against Ilya’s fingers, tries not to moan or writhe in his lap.

Two can play at this game, the thought comes to Shane unbidden. Shane drops one hand to Ilya’s cock and slowly swirls his thumb over the slit. Ilya’s eyes darken and now it’s become a competition to see who will get the other to react first. Shane doesn’t like his odds.

“Never have I ever had sex in the shower,” Ilya says, looking directly into Shane’s eyes. Shane nods. This time, Ilya removes his fingers and it takes more discipline than an overtime shootout not to outwardly react. But Ilya is lubing his cock and making Shane sit on it. How is Shane not supposed to react when Ilya’s big cock is so overwhelming!

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, yeah baby, so good,” Shane fails miserably and doesn’t care in the slightest because he feels too fucking good. Ilya tuts at him.

“Poor Shane, could not keep it hidden. Now everyone knows how much you like my cock. Shall I punish you with it?”

“Yeah, yes please, fuck me so hard,” Shane says, nose to nose with him. Ilya holds Shane’s hips and drives up into him. With this angle, the stimulation against Shane’s prostate is transporting him to new heights.

“Oh my god oh m’god mmmmm,” Shane devolves. Ilya spits on Shane’s cock and the shock of it, the dirtiness of it, sends him over the edge and he comes over Ilya’s chest. Ilya grunts as he comes, too. He holds Shane down on his lap, keeping his spent cock warm. Ilya’s head falls back as he catches his breath. Shane leans forward, nuzzling into his neck again. He’s not sure how long they stay like that, they may have even napped a bit, but after a while they decide to get up and shower, touching the entire time before falling asleep in each other’s arms.

-

“Okay, you have been very patient. Ask any question you want,” Ilya says to Svetlana the next day on the phone. He’s in Shane’s office while Shane is doing yoga in the gym, unsupervised.

“Did you fuck him yet?” Svetlana asks, right to the point as always.

“Yes.”

“Did you confess your undying love to him yet?”

“No. But we are together. Boyfriends,” Ilya says and he can’t keep a straight face when he says it. She surely hears his smile all the way in Boston.

“I am so happy for you, Ilya! Next time you play in Boston we will all have dinner again. When will you tell him?”

“About dinner?”

“No, dumbass, how much you love him!” she says in exasperation.

“It’s too soon Sveta. We’ve only started doing anything like a month ago.”

“You have been crushing on each other since October.”

“Well, maybe by March. You can keep one more secret? This one is hockey so you can’t use your knowledge to make bets. I am serious about this.”

“Being the first to know a secret hockey fact is so much more rewarding than gambling. Tell me. Tell me. Tell me,” she demands.

“It’s not final yet, but it will happen. Shane is trading himself to the Centaurs” – Svetlana shrieks – “so we are moving to Ottawa in March. We have not discussed living together exactly, but I feel like it’s possible. Even if I had a fake apartment but didn’t stay there. Fuck, I want to live with him properly. I really hope he offers,” Ilya says longingly.

“Yes yes yes you are sad puppy boy who wants to live with rich handsome hockey player you are not special what is special is HOLLANDER IS LEAVING THE METROS? WHY!?”

“Bad locker room. Pike and Boiziau are his friends, but everyone else does not treat him with the respect he deserves. Ottawa has good people and Shane will take them far and be happy while he does it.”

“Holy shit. Ilya, I will never complain that you never give me anything. This is the best gift I have ever received. Hollander willingly leaving the Metros. He IS the Metros! They are going to need to…” Svetlana continues strategizing what the Metros should do, and Ilya enjoys listening to her hockey ramblings, as always, content in the knowledge of having a friend he can talk to about everything.

Ilya is smiling as makes himself a snack in the kitchen and Shane enters, wearing nothing but a towel after his shower.

“I told Svetlana, so that is one more person who knows,” Ilya says and Shane joins him in a smile. He also joins him in the kitchen, still wearing nothing but a towel. Silly man, what does he think, that Ilya won’t pull it off? Shane asks him something but he’s not paying attention.

Ilya grabs the towel and opens it but then uses it as leverage to keep Shane tight against his body while he kisses him. Unfortunately, they don’t have time for anything more because Shane has a game against Calgary that evening.

-

JJ doesn’t treat Shane any differently in the locker room, but the rest of the team does.

“How did you fumble Rose Landry? She was wearing your jersey!”

“Better not be mad at JJ, he just has more game than you do!”

And so on, voices overlapping as they try to get their chirp in. But what Shane used to think of as friendly taunts now seem to have a sharp, less-friendly, edge. Like they are actively disappointed in or annoyed by him.

“Hey! Everyone, shut the fuck up. Shane and Rose are friends, he’s been telling us that for weeks, and Shane introduced me to Rose. We’re good. You all need to calm down, esti,” JJ says loudly over everyone else.

“Tell us about her tits!” Comeau yells out from the other side of the room.

“I’m not telling you fuckers shit, you don’t deserve the sexy details!” JJ teases them all and team members are throwing their tape and balled up socks at him, booing.

Shane’s not sure how he feels. Did they not see the social media post? Do they not see Shane and JJ actively being friends? Or is he the weird single Captain who “can’t get a girl” and they are embarrassed to have him as their leader? He doesn’t think he’s ever felt so disconnected from this group of guys. Maybe he was never as connected as he had hoped for, but now Shane is thinking there was never a connection to begin with. Not really. He looks over to Hayden, who is frowning at everyone. He turns to Shane when he feels his gaze and gives him a sympathetic pat on the back.

Shane will need to tell Hayden (and JJ) his plans before it all leaks out. Everyone else can fuck off.

-

Ilya watches the game from Shane’s seats, sitting next to Jackie and the kids. Arthur is in his lap again and he bounces him on his knee. When Shane, Hayden, and JJ are on the ice, their teamwork is beautiful and between the three of them they score four goals. Montreal still loses, though, because anytime their lineup is not on the ice, Calgary capitalizes on their weak defense and ends the third period with five goals. A high scoring game is usually fun to watch, but this one was simply frustrating. The disconnect between Shane’s line and the rest of the team is stark, but they can’t be on the ice the entire time.

His phone buzzes and he sees a message from Svetlana explaining that this happened last MTL – CGY game, Calgary can’t score when Shane is on the ice, but they keep winning because they are reading the Montreal defense like a playbook when Shane is off the ice. He’ll share intel this with Shane later this evening.

Ilya passes Arthur to Jackie and fireman carries the twins over his shoulders as they make their way to the family room next to the lockers. The girls are giggling and shrieking, and Ilya pretends to let them fall, of course catching them and setting them down gently. The twins then start a game of tag with some of the other kids.

The TV in the corner is showing the live feed of the post-game coverage, and a hot and sweaty Shane enters center frame, CCM brand on full display.

“Shane, you posted a statement on social media confirming your friendship with Rose and mentioning your teammate, JJ Boiziau. Does this mean the two of them are an item?”

“You’ll have to ask them; I don’t discuss my teammates or friends’ personal lives.”

“But can you confirm that you and Rose never had a romantic relationship?”

“What does this have to do with the hockey game I just played?”

“She wore your jersey to the last home game; I think the fans deserve to know the truth.”

Shane laughs, not in a nice way.

“My jersey has higher sales than the rest of the Metros’ players combined. Are you going to ask me if I have a romantic relationship with everyone who buys my jersey? Didn’t think so. You read my statement. I have nothing further to add.”

“Shane! Over here! Are you excited to be attending the All-Stars again this year?” A different reporter asks.

“Yes, it’s always a fun time playing with the best of the best.”

“Which one of your teammates do you think will be voted in by the fans?” They follow up.

“No idea! We’re a great team so they have plenty to choose from. Thanks, everyone.”

Shane, white shirt pretty much see-through from sweat, exits the frame.

Ilya: do not shower. We leave now and I lick you clean with my tongue. Then I fuck you. Then you lick all the sweat off me. Then we fuck again and I come all over you. THEN you can shower.

Shane🏒: fuck

-

“You remember the plan?” Ilya asks him on Sunday morning as they look through the closet to get dressed.

“Yes. Let’s do this.”

Step 1: Coming Out

Shane’s parents arrive promptly at 10am. Shane greets them at the door while Ilya is hiding out in the office.

“Hi honey, are you sure you don’t want to go out for brunch?” Yuna asks.

“Yuna, dear, can’t you smell the delicious food?” David admonishes her.

“I’m sure. There’s something I need to share but it’s private,” Shane says. He leads them to the kitchen where the food is mostly still warm, and everyone makes themselves a plate. Shane gets them their tea and once everyone is seated at the table, Shane takes a deep breath.

“Okay. Thanks for coming. I’ve suspected for a while, and the past few months really confirmed it for me… I’m gay.”

Shane looks between his supportive father who’s smiling proudly at him to his confused mother whose fork is frozen halfway between her plate and her mouth.

“Is that why you and Rose Landry didn’t work out?” his mother finally says and Shane does a real-life face palm.

“There is no “didn’t work out”! We didn’t try to work! She clocked me right away, by the way. We’ve been friends ever since like I keep telling you,” he says, his voice rising as he goes.

“Shane, you need to be very careful about who knows. It won’t be safe for you in hockey. The other boys in the locker room won’t be nice when they find out.”

“Forget about other people for a second. How do YOU feel about it?” Shane asks, voice even higher.

“I just worry about you, that’s all. Do you want me to help set you up on dates? We’ll have them sign NDA’s, of course,” Yuna goes off and David gets up, moves around the table, and places a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Fuck. Mom. No. Please respond like my mother and not like my manager,” Shane says, voice breaking on the word mother.

“Oh. Oh, honey you know I love you no matter what. Nothing could ever change that. But we should really have a contingency plan in place in case something leaks. You’ll need to tell Farah. So, is it just Rose and us who know? We’ll have her sign an NDA.”

“No! Stop talking, please,” Shane runs his hands through his hair.

“You want the list of everyone who knew before you? Ilya, Hayden and Jackie, Dad, Rose, Farah, JJ, and Svetlana.”

This finally makes her pause.

“Wait. David, you knew? When? And Ilya, your PA? Who is that last person you mentioned? Shane, what’s going on?”

“Yes, dear. Shane told me at Christmas.”

“Oh,” Yuna says, lips pursed. “I see. Apparently wanting what’s best for my son doesn’t entitle me to know what’s going on in his life.”

“Yuna!”

“Is what’s best for me to be with Rose Landry? Because that’s all I’ve been hearing about for a month. And before that, how many times did you try to set me up with women? Is it shocking that I didn’t want to tell you I’m gay when I know you don’t think that’s what’s best for me? Before… before my boyfriend, I did try. I tried really hard, but I can’t help it,” Shane says, tears threatening to spill from his eyelashes.

This seems to snap his mother out of her mood and then tears spring up to match Shane.

“Shane… no… I’m sorry. I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t tell me. I want you to be happy, whatever that looks like. Does your boyfriend make you happy?” she asks, tears tracking down her cheeks, now. She looks like she wants to give him a hug but is unsure if it will be receptive. Honestly, Shane’s not sure he’d be very receptive right now.

“Yes, he does.”

“Well, I would love to meet this man of yours, whenever you are ready,” she says softly, wiping her cheek. Shane looks to his father who nods encouragingly at him.

“He’s here. Can you promise not to overreact?”

“Of course! Just let me freshen up,” she says, trying for a smile as she heads to the washroom to fix her makeup.

Step 2: Meet the Parents

When the bathroom door closes, Ilya steps out of the office, having heard everything. He doesn’t say anything to David but shakes his hand and claps his shoulder and then wraps Shane in a hug. Shane holds on tight and closes his eyes, breathing in his scent.

“You are so brave,” he whispers into Shane’s ear and kisses his favourite spot at his temple. The bathroom door opens and Yuna returns to the kitchen in time to see Ilya loosen his grip but holding Shane’s hand. Her eyes zero in on their hands.

“Mom, Ilya is my boyfriend.”

Yuna is silent for five solid seconds.

“Didn’t you ask me to find you a P.A. who wouldn’t flirt with you?” she asks, exasperated.

Shane is so surprised that he laughs.

“Yeah, I did.”

“And do we need to find you a new P.A. now?”

“No,” Ilya responds quickly. “I still want to be his P.A. Plus it gives us a good cover, a reason to be together that is not suspicious to media or hockey team.”

“That’s true. So, when did this happen? And David, I think I could use a mimosa…”

-

Ilya feels like the conversation is going much better now. Until they jump right into –

Step 3: The Trade

“Okay. So. My son is gay and has a boyfriend. Anything else I need to know?” she said, clearly assuming there would be nothing else.

“Well…”

Yuna’s eyebrows shoot up. She gets comfortable in her chair.

“Hit me.”

“I spoke with Farah. She’s about to speak with Montreal. I’m going to waive my no-trade clause.”

Yuna looks more shocked about this than she did seeing Ilya holding her son’s hand.

“I don’t understand,” is what she lands on.

“If I want to come out or if there’s a leak, the Montreal locker room isn’t safe for me. Hayden and JJ have my back, of course. But no one else would. I need to go somewhere I’ll feel safe.”

“But you’re the Captain! They are your brothers, why wouldn’t they have your back?” Yuna says, flabbergasted that her favourite team might not be loyal to Shane.

“A lot of them are homophobic. Most already don’t like me for being the Captain while being younger than them. They tolerate me cuz I help them win. But I found a team, I think, that would treat me like a brother.”

At this, David looks interested.

“Oh? The poll worked? Where are you headed?”

“What are you talking about, what poll?”

“Remember on like Boxing Day or something, the MLHPA sent that statement about a fake survey?”

“Yes.”

“That was us. Well, Ilya made it all happen. I was wishing there was a way to learn about other team cultures, and he thought of the survey and how to make it so enough people would actually fill it out. So he and I are the only ones that have seen the results of that survey.”

“I’m… impressed and concerned. Go on then, answer your father. What team are you forcing me to cheer for?”

At this, Shane does manage a smile for the first time in a while.

“Ottawa.”

David whoops, shaking Yuna by the shoulders in his excitement.

“Ottawa? Ottawa. Worst team in the league. You. Most competitive man in the world. Are choosing to entertain a trade to Ottawa?”

“Yes. I met with the head coach and he seems like a really good guy. I think it’s a good fit both ways. Obviously, I can help them. Remember, Montreal was not a good team when I started. I turned them around. I can do the same for Ottawa. And I’m hoping to spend time with the two Ottawa players at All-Stars to see the vibe up close. But the results of the poll weren’t even close, they seem to have the culture I always hoped I’d get with Montreal.”

“Okay. Well. I must say I’m very interested to see all the results of this survey.”

“I made Shane a PowerPoint!” Ilya chimes in and earns himself a hungry look from Yuna.

Ilya and Yuna head to the living room so he can connect his laptop to the TV and take her through all the results while David and Shane sit at the kitchen table, talking quietly.

By the end of the presentation, Yuna is convinced. By the end of the proposed contract review, Yuna is on Realtor.com looking for houses for Shane.

“Okay… so to recap,” she says back in the kitchen. “Gay. Boyfriend. Ottawa. Anything else?”

“Nope, that about sums it up.”

“I love you. I’m sorry about earlier and for my previous attitude. I promise to check in with you before imposing my ideas in the future.”

“Thanks, mom. That means a lot. I love you, too,” he says and gives her a hug.

-

Shane and JJ enter the All-Stars Welcome Party at the hotel bar and make their rounds saying hi to their temporary teammates. Scott Hunter is standing with his right winger, Carter Vaughn, as they approach.

“Gentlemen,” Scott says in greeting and Carter throws his arms around Shane and JJ shouting “fucking BEAUTIES!” right in Shane’s ear. He holds back a cringe and manages to say, “Good to see you guys!”

“I’ll have what he’s having!” JJ calls out to a passing server while Shane points to Hunter’s corona for himself. The server brings back two vodka sodas for Carter and JJ and two coronas for Scott and Shane. While they chit chat, Scott waves over the two Ottawa players and Shane immediately perks up, having never been around these guys in a social setting before.

“Bood, Hayes, I’m sure you know Hollander and Boiziau,” Scott handles the introductions.

“Hollander, I’m so glad to be on your team for once!” Hayes, the Ottawa goalie, says with a big smile.

“What about me?” JJ demands.

“You aren’t leading the scoring race, I’ll take you – or anyone for that matter! – over facing Hollander. You think you’re a good goalie and then this guy comes out of fucking nowhere and the puck is in the net before you’ve even had a chance!”

Shane knows he’s good, obviously, but he never knows how to act when people compliment him to his face.

“And that’s why he’s the team Captain this year!” Zane Boodram (“call me Bood”) says, clapping Shane on the back.

“With Hayes in net how can we lose?” Shane says, clinking his beer bottle against Hayes’.

“Damn right!”

“Your save percentage this season is 0.912. I don’t know why Toronto traded you last year, you’re so much better than Girard, but you’re killing it with Ottawa.”

“Wow, thanks, man! I was very glad to be traded, honestly,” he says, looking over his shoulder before continuing. “Dallas Kent is truly an awful person. Racist, homophobic, misogynistic. And he sets the culture so everyone else just falls in line. Ryan Price is the only good guy there.”

“Sounds awful. And you find Ottawa is a much better locker room?”

“Oh my god it’s literally night and day! Zero tolerance on discrimination of any kind. The team is expected to be respectful to each other and to anyone we come in contact with, but it’s not even hard because we’re all a bunch of decent dudes to begin with.”

Shane tries to get a hint as to whether Bood, the Ottawa Captain, has any inkling of Shane’s proposed transfer. The Welcome Party gets louder as more players arrive and the drinks are flowing, but Shane switches to ginger ale after his one beer. He notices that Bood does the same, though with sprite instead of ginger ale. They find themselves at the edge of the bar, their temporary teammates having dispersed to socialize with everyone else.

“So, Hollander… Let’s have a hypothetical conversation, shall we?”

Here it is, Shane thinks to himself.

“Let’s.”

“Why would the best hockey player, maybe ever, want to get himself transferred to one of the lowest ranked teams in the league?”

“Well, hypothetically speaking, of course, that player may be sick and tired of being around assholes. And if someone is already the best, then it doesn’t matter what team they play for. They might prefer to hang out with nice people rather than people they have to tolerate. Hypothetically.”

“A very interesting answer. And this hockey player is used to being team captain. So much so that the league gives them captaincy at an all-stars game. This person wouldn’t begrudge not being a full captain anymore?”

“Nope. I dare say a player like that would appreciate having slightly less pressure weighing on him.”

“Well, it would be an honour to get to know and play with someone like that,” Bood says. Shane nods and the topic is dropped for now. After a while, JJ returns from a round of shots and Shane decides he’s ready.

-

Back in the hotel room, Ilya is working away when Shane enters with JJ and Bood.

“Sorry Rozanov, hope I’m not interrupting,” Shane says using his professional voice.
Ilya eyes everyone over the laptop screen and dramatically sighs and closes it.

“I guess I can take a break,” he says, stretching his back and neck.

“Ilya Rozanov is my Personal Assistant. Ilya, this is Zane Boodram, Captain of the Ottawa Centaurs,” Shane says by way of introductions, ever the professional.

“Call me Bood!”

“Roz! Nice to meet you,” Ilya says. The conversation fades for a second and Shane looks very nervous all of a sudden. He’s staring at Ilya, who raises his eyebrows at him questioningly. Is Ilya missing something?

Shane calls Hayden on video chat and gives the phone to JJ. Ilya is now very very confused.

“Hey man! Oh JJ, is Shane okay?” Hayden’s worried voice comes out of the phone.

“No idea. Shane is acting weird. He invited me and Bood from Ottawa to his room and insisted we video call you. Now he’s pacing the room,” JJ narrates.

“Turn the phone around, idiot!” Hayden calls out and JJ does after rolling his eyes.

“Shane, buddy, is everything okay?”

Ilya is starting to understand when he notices Bood does not look confused at all. Is Shane about to…?

“Umm. I needed you guys to know first. I don’t know how to say this…”

Shane is pacing, sweating, and breathing quickly. Ilya rushes over, ignoring Bood’s presence for a moment and places his hand on Shane’s shoulder, talking quietly to him. Hopefully it’s grounding enough to calm Shane without giving too much away to Bood.

“Hey, is okay. They are your friends. They will understand. And if not, I beat them up, okay?”

Shane coughs out a laugh which seems to have stopped the spiral, at least for now.

“Shane?” Hayden says again. Ilya takes a step back, but stays within arm’s reach, watching Hayden and JJ’s reaction to the incoming news. Bood looks interested in their dynamic, but in a curious way not a malicious way.

“Okay. It’s not official yet. But I don’t want you to find out through a leak or something. I’ve requested a trade to Ottawa,” Shane spits out quickly. Silence follows.

“JJ, did he just say he wants to be traded to Ottawa?” Hayden asks, dumbfounded.

“Oui. Capitaine. Why?”

“You guys are my only friends on the team, right? I’m not close with anyone else. I thought we were all brothers, but lately it hasn’t felt that way. I think I’ve finally opened my eyes to how the team actually is. And I can’t unsee it. I want to be on a team where I feel like I belong.”

“Shane…”

“Mon ami…”

They both look like they want to argue against him, but somewhere deep down they know he’s right.

“And what makes you think Ottawa will be better?” Hayden asks.

“Explains why Bood is here,” JJ says at the same time. “Do you know about this?”

“Coach asked my opinion on the trade after he met with Hollander. Like he said, though, nothing is official yet. But Ottawa would be a good fit for him, I think. It goes without saying Ottawa would benefit from having THE Shane Hollander, but he would find what he’s looking for, too.”

“Fuck. Well at least it’s not Boston or fucking LA or something. Ottawa is at least close-by,” Hayden says, trying to sound positive but not quite hiding his disappointment.

“To be clear, you have to do what’s right for you. And I support you. But I’ll miss seeing my best friend every day,” Hayden continues and JJ is nodding in agreement. Shane finally breathes out a stress-relieving sigh.

“Thanks, man. I’ll obviously miss you guys, too.”

“Bood, if anyone over there gives our boy trouble, we will have words,” JJ says sternly, though the effect is undercut by the copious amounts of alcohol he consumed in a short time frame.

“No need to worry, but noted,” Bood chuckles.

With the news out of the way, Shane tells the guys he’ll catch up with them at the dinner. Bood and JJ head out, leaving Shane and Ilya alone. Ilya immediately wraps his arms around Shane.

“Okay. That’s everyone, right? My best friends and my parents know about you and about Ottawa,” Shane says into Ilya’s neck. Ilya rubs his back and rocks him back and forth for a moment.

“Do you want to stop thinking?”

“Fuck yes.”

“Safe word?”

“Overtime.”

“Stand still.”

Shane lets go of Ilya but doesn’t step away. Ilya slowly undresses him, caressing Shane’s skin as it becomes visible. Ilya stares at a naked Shane Hollander, walking around him to enjoy the full view of his strong arms, tight abs, thick thighs, defined calves, round ass, and perfect swelling cock.

Ilya leaves him standing there for a moment while he gets on the bed with his back against the headboard and lowers his shorts and boxers to free his dick.

“Come. I need my cockwarmer. I can’t have you sore for All-Stars, so you will use your mouth, and I will watch TV. In one hour, you go meet team for dinner.”

Shane climbs on the bed and lays between Ilya’s spread legs, taking in his cock. Shane’s eyes flutter beautifully as he tastes Ilya and stays mostly still, swallowing and licking occasionally to avoid drooling. Ilya chooses a rerun of a show called Mythbusters and then he maneuvers them so they are on their sides. He gives Shane a pillow to rest his neck while never letting go of Ilya’s cock. He is utterly perfect. The feeling of his hard cock being kept warm by the sexiest mouth on earth drives Ilya insane. The sense of possession he feels is unrivaled. Shane is his, but he is also Shane’s. Shane is not claiming anyone else’s dick in his glorious mouth. He chose Ilya. And Ilya gets to insert himself in Shane, leaving his mark there.

Shane’s hands wander. They slowly pull down on Ilya’s pants, so he shimmies himself to allow Shane to remove them completely. He decides to take his shirt off, too. Shane touches him everywhere. Light caresses over his thighs, tight squeezes against his ass, pressure along his abs, and then his hand lands on Ilya’s bicep and he moans. His eyes are clouded over with lust and his mouth is drooling which means he’s licking and swallowing more.

“You’ve done so well, sweetheart. You get reward now. You can suck my cock and swallow it all.”

Shane groans in appreciation and earnestly licks, sucks, and bobs his head to take as much as he can. Ilya helps him find the pace that he needs and after another minute, Ilya is coming down Shane’s throat, marking him, possessing him, claiming him.

“Mine, fuck, Shane,” Ilya stammers out. He doesn’t let himself enjoy the glow for long as he sits back up and pulls Shane to sit between his legs, back to chest. He lubes his hand and wraps his arms around Shane then grabs his length.

“Fuck,” Shane breathes.

“You like my biceps around you?”

Shane whimpers and nods as Ilya flexes. The hand not on Shane’s cock comes up and braces Shane against Ilya’s chest. Shane’s hands fly up to grope Ilya’s bicep while he rocks into Ilya’s fist. Ilya keeps pumping while kissing Shane’s neck. When he can tell by Shane’s increasingly loud moans that he’s close, he lets go and tells him to lie down on his back. Ilya gets out of the way and before Shane can bemoan the loss of friction too much, Ilya wraps his lips around Shane’s cock. It tastes like green apple thanks to the new lube he purchased. Ilya puts himself in a makeshift pushup position to keep showing off his biceps while he swallows Shane whole.

Shane’s hands land on his arm muscles again with a pleasurable moan.

“So fucking strong. God you’re hot, Ilya. Want you, all the time,” Shane murmurs. Ilya speeds up and Shane’s abs contract as he comes and comes and comes. Ilya doesn’t let a drop ruin the bedsheets. He gives the tip a final lick and crawls up to Shane, holding him tight. Shane is smiling into his chest; arm draped over him and leg hooked over his hip. It’s incredible how Shane slots perfectly against him. He’s had the thought before that Shane was made in a factory to his exact specifications and it feels even more true as the days go by.

He kisses Shane’s forehead and almost says three words. He can’t wait for the perfect opportunity to say it out loud. Until then, his love for Shane will need to be conveyed through every shared touch.

Chapter End Notes

Next episode: Ottawa!

Chapter 18: All-Stars II

Chapter Summary

Previously on P.A. Wanted: Shane comes out to JJ and Yuna. At the All-Stars, he tells his friends that he’s trading to Ottawa.
In today’s episode: Drama at the All-Stars.

Chapter Notes

CW – Use of the “C” word (although spelled with a K… you’ll see); and homophobic slurs.

**Edit**: It's "Alternate" not "Assistant" Captain. Updated those references!

Shane is on the bench with his teammates, waiting for his turn to be called for the fastest skater competition.

“Did you end up winning anything at that silent auction at the gala?” Scott asks him. He has to wait a while for his turn, shot accuracy is the last game of the competition after fastest skater and hardest shot.

“Nah. Didn’t really expect to. You?”

“No, same. I like the giving to charity part of these events, but I don’t like the “gala” aspects. It’s all so fake and the food is terrible,” Hunter complains.

“The food is terrible,” Shane agrees. “I used to do one of those things at least once a month, sometimes more. Ever since I hired Rozanov – you remember my P.A. from the gala? – well ever since I hired him, I’ve noticed way fewer engagements that I have to attend. It’s been awesome.”

“And there hasn’t been any blowback from sponsors or anything?”

Shane knows that Hunter is sponsored by Under Armor.

“If there is, I haven’t heard about it. And trust me, my agent would absolutely tell my mother who’s in charge of the Shane Hollander Brand who would find me even if I tried to hide on the moon.”
They chuckle and Scott has a pensive look on his objectively handsome face. For an old man. Shane is then called to the ice.

He skates to the start line, fist bumping the previous skater as they exit. So far no one has come close to Shane’s record from two years ago (last year Shane won the shot accuracy competition). His time to beat is 13.723 seconds.
Shane assumes the starting position and imagines Ilya racing next to him. He hears the whistle and he’s off, pushing strong and fast, Rozanov trying to cut him on the inside curve. Shane digs into his edges on the corners and pushes hard on the straightaway, always seeing Rozanov a hair ahead of him. He enters the last curve reducing his speed ever so slightly to keep his edges but makes up for it on the last straight path to finish line, pumping his legs furiously. In his mind’s eye, he and Rozanov are neck and neck. It’s a photo finish.

He looks up at the clock but before he can register the time, he hears a huge cheer, and his back is getting clapped by the referee. He finally zeroes in on the time: 13.012. More than half a second shaved off! He’s all smiles as he exits the ice and takes a seat between Hunter and Boodram. Bood and Hunter give him a fist bump. Other players clap his back or jostle him, which he tolerates but doesn’t enjoy. The subtle congratulations from Hunter and Bood are more to his liking.

“It’s almost my time to shine, boys! Us East Coast Captains have to represent. Hollzy’s put down a record. It’s up to you and me, Hunter. We can’t let the young one have all the glory!”

“Young!? It’s not like I’m a rookie anymore!” Shane sputters defensively to their amusement, thus proving that he is, in fact, still young.

“You’ll always be a rookie to us, Rook,” Hunter says.

“No. No way, I prefer “Hollzy” over “Rook”!”

Before they could continue their good-nature ribbing, all the hardest shot competitors are called to the ice to line-up. Bood hurries up to be one of the first ones to go. Decent but not-extraordinary showings from the first three competitors with high 90s and low 100s (miles per hour). Shane is annoyed at the lack of metric system but pushes that thought aside as Bood grabs the puck. A 220-pound 6’4’’ man should not be able to move as quickly as he does. He takes the shot and the puck is barely visible. The jumbotron teases the reveal of the speed before flashing a new 2017 record: 107.9 MPH!

Shane is on his feet banging his stick against the boards, giving Bood a “fuck yeah, man” and a fist bump.

“Good job, Bood. If your record holds, the pressure is on for me to win shot accuracy,” Scott says. Bood’s record does, in fact, hold. The next hardest shot was Dallas Kent (why is he even here?) with a 106.8 MPH followed by JJ with 106.7. When JJ gets off the ice, he’s furious to have lost to Dallas Kent by 0.1.

Scott needn’t have worried. He nails the shot accuracy competition in 6.02 seconds, cleanly beating the runner up who got a 7.58.

-

Ilya: I could have done it in under 13 seconds
Ilya: I will make fun of JJ for losing to dallas fucking kent
Ilya: old man has good aim
Ilya: hayes is good goalie
Ilya: HA no goal for kent
Ilya: okay is sexy when you score
Ilya: you are having fun on bench
Ilya: is nice to see you smile
Ilya: no flirting 😠
Ilya: oh good is over
Ilya: come to hotel room to shower 🍆💦
Ilya: please please please
Ilya: I never ask for anything 🥺
Ilya: shane
Ilya: shane
Ilya: shaaaaaane

Shane 🏒: hi 😊
Shane 🏒: the guys are talking about taking over the hotel restaurant for dinner
Shane 🏒: like with families and guests too
Shane 🏒: if you agree to come with me (and behave!!) I will come to the room right now without showering

Ilya: I have to share you with other people? Fine. Is worth it for sweaty hockey player sex

Shane 🏒: Deal. See you soon 😘

-

Shane discovers Ilya’s plan is to lick him clean and then fuck him bent over in the shower with his hands planted on the tiled wall for support. He definitely made the right decision.

The “dinner” is more of a casual buffet affair, with players, family, and friends mingling about, some sitting at tables, some standing at the bar. Shane scopes out Hayes and his wife(?) at a high-top table near the bar and he gestures for Ilya to follow.

“Hey man! Lisa, this is Shane Hollander, though I’m sure you knew that already. Hollzy, this is my wife, Lisa!” Hayes says and then he glances at Ilya.

“Pleasure to meet you, Lisa,” Shane says, shaking her hand. “This is my friend and Personal Assistant, Ilya Rozanov.”

Ilya shakes both of their hands and asks Hayes, “So is Ottawa happier than Toronto?”

Hayes smiles at the question.

“No one ever asks me that! And it IS. Seriously. We may not win often, but this is the best group of guys I could have asked for. Complete 180 of Toronto.”

“What’s a complete 180? Getting used to losing over there in Ottawa yet, Hayes?” Dallas fucking Kent says.

“Always a pleasure, Kent.”

“What team do you play for? Never seen you before. How the fuck did you make it to All-Stars?” Kent says to Ilya, his face screwed up in confusion. Ilya smiles like an evil child about to get their wish come true.

“I play for the Moscow Mules, maybe you have not heard of them. Hollander invited me to see best of the best. Is only okay. KHL is better,” Ilya plays up his accent and lies so smoothly Shane would have believed it if he didn’t know the truth – and if he didn’t use the Moscow Mules as the team name, the idiot.

“What the fuck! Hollander you seriously brought this bitch here? Put him on skates and let’s see how good he is,” Kent says, acting out like a fucking child.

“What fun! Yes, Hollander, please let me have fastest skater contest with, what is name? Dallas Kunt?” Ilya says, faux-innocently, while Wyatt and Lisa seem torn between containing their laughter at Dallas’ stupidity and the misspoken name, and their antithesis to conflict (off the ice). Shane assumes. Because that’s exactly how he’s feeling right now. Kent, for his part, looks like he’s about to throw punches. Shane places a hand on Ilya’s shoulder.

“Sorry Rozanov, no ice time available. Kent, I think I see your friends at the bar,” Shane says and uses his hand on Ilya’s shoulder to steer him away to a quiet corner.

“What did I say about behaving? We’re not here 5 minutes!” He whisper-yells and Ilya has the decency to look at least 1 percent contrite before he pouts his lips, and Shane’s irritation is annoyingly endeared away.

“Sorry. Was funny though, yes?” He said, barely sounding sorry at all.

“Moscow Mules! Really?” he snorts. “It was especially funny since Dumbass Kent didn’t clock it,” Shane chuckles.

“Dumbass Kent is not as good as Dallas Kun– ” Ilya is interrupted by an elbow to the gut.

-

After the first round of drinks, Ilya notices JJ in a group with Dallas Kent looking desperate to leave. He nudges Shane, who frowns then picks up his phone. A couple seconds later, JJ checks his phone, giving him a reason to excuse himself. He heads over to their table (really, it’s two tables pushed together) where they set up shop with Wyatt and Lisa Hayes, Zane Boodram, Cassie (Bood’s girlfriend), Scott Hunter, and Carter Vaughn.

“Ah thank you, those guys are terrible. Roz, why does Dallas Kent think you play for the Moscow Mules?” JJ asks, making everyone else at the table laugh.

“And he believed that?” Vaughn says, shaking his head in disbelief. “What an idiot.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem, though. I guess the rest of the guys there laughed at him when he said it and they had to explain the joke. Now he’s on a warpath. But, and I’m sorry for this, they asked me if I knew who you were… but I got there after the explanation, so I didn’t know you said any of that. I told him you’re Shane’s friend and P.A.” JJ swallows.

“And then he said… “bet they’re faggots”… I’m sorry, his words not mine!... anyway, the rest of the guys there all agreed with him and then I got your text so I was finally able to leave. Was I… should I have said something in your defense?” JJ’s brow is furrowed.

The table is quiet now. The four players from Ottawa and New York are furious. Shane is scared but trying to hide it. Ilya is seething at Kent but also at himself. Shane asked him to behave. And he couldn’t not chirp that idiot. And now that idiot is starting rumours. Fuck.

“You did the right thing, Boiziau,” Vaughn says, “if you tried to defend him, it would make it look like there’s something to hide. Ignoring it is the best bet.”

“Yes. Is my fault. I should not have fooled him like that,” Ilya admits but Wyatt is quick to try and reassure him.

“Dude, you made a joke to an asshole who’s so stupid he believed you. It’s not your fault he has a short temper. Which, by the way, has always been volatile. You never knew if you were going to get “Thinks he’s a cool asshole” Kent or “Everyone has wronged me and I will make it everyone’s problem” Kent. Today we got both.”

The conversation moves on for everyone else but Ilya and Shane.

-

Shane’s thoughts are swirling. It’s not surprising that Kent would call him that. He’s done it on the ice, too. But right now, his thoughts are focused on the group of guys at the table, specifically Hayes and Bood. Are they mad at Kent for insinuating that Shane is gay? Or are they mad because Kent thinks being gay is a bad thing? If it’s the former, maybe he won’t be as safe in Ottawa as he’d hoped (though still much safer than Montreal). If it’s the latter, well, he really hopes it’s the latter.

He’s being too quiet. He knows it. But he can’t focus in on the conversation anymore. He glances at Ilya who notices immediately and catches his eye. He’d love nothing more than to leave this stupid dinner, but it’s too early. Right now, he just needs Ilya and thanks to Dallas Kent, Shane can’t even move his foot to touch Ilya’s without someone possibly seeing. Shane hasn’t spoken or laughed in a bit, he really needs to focus back in. Can’t have the guys thinking he can’t handle Dallas Kent. But it’s hard to break out of the fog.

-

Ilya sees Shane’s struggle and throws himself into the conversation as cover. He knows he can’t touch Shane right now, even though they both need it. He frequently makes eye contact with him, though, and it almost feels like a touch.

He needs an opening to bring Shane back into the conversation. It comes a few minutes later.

“I’m just saying the breakfast buffet better have pancakes!” Hayes says.

“I prefer crêpes over pancakes. Add some fruit. Bit of Nutella. Delicious,” Hunter responds.

“No no no, you must all try blini. Far superior to pancakes,” Ilya says, arrogantly.

“Not this again!” JJ wails.

“Ask Shane! I made him try blini. Shane?”

-

Shane only paid attention to Ilya’s last sentence when he heard his name, but there’s enough information there to get a response out, at least.

“Yeah. Blini was really good. It’s different than a pancake,” JJ throws his hands in the air as if betrayed, “sorry JJ! But it’s great. I tried a savoury one, but I can see it being equally tasty with fruit for breakfast.”

There. Shane participated. He gives himself a few seconds to scan the room, looking for threats, before zoning back in. Everyone is talking over each other now as they have conversations with people across the table. It’s loud and Shane loses track of time as he finds himself dissociating until Ilya nudges the back of his hand.

“Shane, I do not think they serve food here that works with your nutrition plan. Do you want to head back upstairs and order food?”

Shane could kiss him right here. Give Kent a heart attack. Instead, he says yes, stands up, drops cash on the table, and takes his leave. Ilya says goodbye and follows Shane out. Luckily Kent and his buddies are at the bar, and they exit the restaurant without issue.

They don’t speak until their hotel room door closes behind them.

“I really am sorry. I did not think about how it could affect you,” Ilya says, approaching slowly with his arms ready to wrap around Shane, but hesitating.

Shane walks into his arms and holds him tight.

“I know. I forgive you. With anyone else, that would have been harmless. It’s not your fault Kent is the way he is. He’s even worse than Comeau.”

“What can I do to make it up to you?”

“Turn my brain off,” Shane says, nuzzling Ilya’s face. Ilya’s eyes darken with want.

“I want to tie your wrists together with silk tie. Make you feel soooo good,” he whispers into Shane’s ear. He shudders and nods frantically.

“Take off your clothes,” he says, and steps back to enjoy the view. Shane unbuttons his dark blue shirt, slips it off, pads over to the closet by the door and hangs it up. He sees Ilya’s eyes dart around his chest and arms. He decides he can be a little bratty and turns around so Ilya can take in his flexing back muscles while he unbuckles his belt and slides it off, rolling it up and placing it on the desk. Facing Ilya again, he undoes his pants and pulls them off. He folds them over another hanger in the closet. Only wearing boxers and socks now, he turns and bends over to remove his socks, giving Ilya a view of his covered ass. He can hear Ilya growling behind him. He places his socks next to his belt. Finally, he lowers his boxers, letting his cock feel the cool air in the room at complete odds with the heat in his groin. He folds the boxers next to the socks, then waits for the next instruction.

Ilya makes him wait and walks closer. Shane is very aware of the clothing imbalance, and for some reason this makes his dick twitch.

“Lie down on the bed, and put your wrists together above your head,” he says, staring at Shane’s lips and then flicking them up to his eyes. With a parting kiss, Ilya steps back and Shane crawls to the middle of the bed, lies on his back, and brings his arms up to rest on the pillow behind his head. He watches Ilya open his bag and rummage through it. After a moment, out comes a blue silk necktie. He approaches the bed and sits next to Shane, gently wrapping the tie around his wrists before pulling it into a tight knot. Shane tests the strength and is surprised that it holds pretty well and doesn’t chafe his skin.

“I have scissors on the bedside table if you need to be cut loose. You say our safe word, Overtime, and I release you. Okay?”

“Yes,” Shane says, without hesitation, hoping his twitching cock is helping his case. Something about putting all his trust in Ilya… not having to make any decisions… knowing he can just let Ilya play with him however he wants… really turns him on. The tied wrists amplify what they’ve experimented with previously.

“Good, you look nice and relaxed like this,” he says, letting a hand trail down Shane’s chest to his pubic hair, but stopping just shy, leaving Shane wanting. Ilya stands and walks to the foot of the bed and just stares at Shane. He can feel his gaze travel from his hands to his eyes, lips, chest, cock, legs, and feet. He rakes his eyes back up to Shane’s and slowly undresses. Shane can do nothing but watch. His breath speeds up a bit when the light touches Ilya’s glorious chest. The sound of the belt buckle loosening might as well be the bells of heaven. Ilya’s erection tents his boxers, and he spends a moment rubbing his palm over it, showing off the size, before ultimately peeling them off. He snatches the bottle of lube off the desk, pops the cap off, and drizzles it directly on his cock. He then grabs his dick and starts to pump his wrist, never taking his eyes off Shane’s body.

“Fuck, Ilya,” Shane breathes and squirms on the bed, needing to move but not allowed. Ilya’s hand speeds up.

“Please…” he begs and feels a bit of precome leak out the tip at the sight.

“Please what?” Ilya asks in his low voice that drives Shane crazy with want.

“Please… touch me.”

Shane thinks Ilya is complying with his request when he gets on the bed, legs straddling Shane’s thighs. But their legs aren’t actually touching, and he just keeps jerking himself. Their cocks are so close, yet so far. Precome leaks out of Ilya’s cock and a drop lands on Shane’s dick, making him feral. The anticipation for when their cocks will brush is killing him. His cock is pulsing with need.

But they don’t touch. Ilya moves up more and now he’s hovering over his chest and leans forward with one hand on the headboard as he aims his dick towards Shane’s mouth, only a few inches away.

“Yeah, yeah, come in my mouth, please, need to taste you,” Shane begs, his own cock is so hard it’s almost painful. But he tries to ignore it and opens his mouth, hoping for a gift.

“Stick out your tongue.” Shane obeys and his heart rate picks up.

Ilya leans forward a bit more so the tip of his cock is now rubbing against Shane’s tongue. Shane moans first at the contact, his body craving touch like it’s never done before, and second at the taste of Ilya’s salty release landing in his mouth. Shane can’t help himself; he closes his lips around the tip to try to get it all. Ilya, for his part, swears in Russian when he finally lets himself go.

Ilya doesn’t bask in any afterglow. He moves beside Shane, not touching, adds more lube to his hand, then finally, finally, touches Shane. Ilya grasps his cock, but that’s still the only point of contact.

“You did so good for me. Now let me take care of you,” he says softly. He slides his grip along the shaft and twists on the way down. Sometimes he swipes over the slit to collect the precome. All Shane feels is the cool silk against his wrists, the soft cotton sheets beneath him, and the live wire that is Ilya’s hand on his cock. He thrusts up into his fist, unable to contain himself. He needs to feel more of Ilya’s heat against his skin.

“Touch me, please touch me,” Shane begs.

“I am.”

“M-More.”

“Not yet.”

Shane whines in pleasure and frustration in equal measure.

“How many different ways can I make you come tonight?”

“I don’t…”

“Let’s count. I am almost at one, I think?”

“Fuck, yeah, so close baby, faster,” Shane moans out. Ilya speeds up and they are both staring at Shane’s cock.

“Fuck, I’m gonna…” Shane starts and then after another handful of shallow breaths, Shane’s back arches as his come spurts onto his chest and Ilya’s hand.

“Good boy, took that so well. You are extra beautiful when you let go like that.”

Shane smiles and blushes at the praise. Once the initial endorphin high recedes a bit, Shane notices his arms hurt a bit from having his arms behind is head.

“Can I drop my arms for a second?” Shane asks.

“Yes, thank you for asking,” Ilya allows and then he massages one arm at a time to help get the blood flowing. The touch feels amazing, but Ilya is still not touching more than one body part at a time. At least it’s grounding him as he continues to come down. Once both arms are complete, he moves his arms back where they were.

“One,” Ilya says with a smirk.

“One,” Shane confirms unnecessarily.

“Bring your knees to your chest and spread them,” he instructs Shane. As Shane complies, Ilya grabs a pillow and has Shane lift his butt up so they can slide it under. He feels very exposed like this but somehow not embarrassing, not with Ilya. More like… vulnerable? But he knows he’s in safe hands. Speaking of which, Ilya is lubing one up.

-

Ilya starts with one finger, gently circling Shane’s hole. He’s careful not to touch anywhere else, yet. Once the muscles relax a tiny bit, he pushes his finger in slowly and relishes the gasp that Shane makes. He pulls his finger all the way out, then repeats the motion again and again in the same agonizingly slow pace. Shane’s hips try to keep his finger from fully escaping but Ilya has all the leverage here. Without warning, he puts two fingers in this time, but continues the motion, in and out, grazing his prostate with each stroke. Ilya watches Shane’s cock go from soft to hard again in the span of a minute. His body twitches in pleasure with each pass, and this time it seems more difficult for Shane to keep his arms out of the game. He starts to lower them before he catches himself and pushes them back up.

Three fingers. But now he doesn’t pull them out all the way and instead moves faster.

“Oh my fuck, Ilya, fuck,” Shane whispers frantically. Ilya wants nothing more than to kiss Shane’s thigh, rub his ass cheek, and capture his nipple between his teeth. Not yet. That will come later. He opts to crook his fingers slightly to add more pressure on his prostate and Shane is just making sounds at this point, no words left to him.

“Will you come just from my fingers, sweetheart?” Ilya asks in his low voice as he picks up the pace again.

“Yeah, fuck,” Shane pants, staring at Ilya with pupils blown wide and lips parted.

“You are doing amazing. Taking my fingers so well,” Ilya praises. “Look at you, so beautiful, and all mine, yes?”

“Yours,” Shane gasps his agreement.

“This is my hole, and I can play with it however I want, yes?” Ilya speaks in a way that brooks no argument.

“Yes,” he nods and his eyes roll back as Ilya speeds up yet again.

“And this cock belongs to me. So, I can tell it to come, and it will obey, yes?”

“Fuck yes, please baby,” Shane is holding on for dear life if his blush is anything to go by.

Ilya focuses his attention on Shane’s dick, leans closer to it, and whispers a word: “Come.”

Shane’s orgasm rips through him as he comes undone. His abs contract and Ilya is surprised there is still a decent amount of release. The sight of his angry red cock spurting the white release hands free is one he will remember for years to come. His tempo changes to match with Shane’s twitches until he slowly removes his fingers.

“That was perfect,” Ilya says, his own cock fully hard again taking in Shane’s wrecked body. Shane’s eyes are closed as he catches his breath.

“Stay like this, I get a washcloth,” Ilya tells him. He comes back with a warm, wet towel and wipes the come off Shane’s chest, still careful to only touch one body part at a time. When he was all clean, he tells Shane to lower his legs down and then Shane whispers a request.

“Kiss me, please.”

Ilya did say he was going to make Shane feel good. Ilya moves up next to him, kisses him, and licks inside his mouth. He pulls back, though, leaving Shane wanting more.

“Lower your arms again,” he instructs. Ilya massages his arms again to make sure the blood is flowing. Shane looks at him with soft eyes.

“Two,” he whispers with a smile.

“Two,” Ilya confirms with a wink.

He spends more time massaging the arms this time to give Shane a bit more recovery time. Shane looks seconds away from sleep, and Ilya can’t have that. He moves ahead with the third way. Ilya shimmies down and leans over, capturing Shane’s soft dick with his mouth. Shane twitches and eyes snap open. Ilya sucks on the tip, still making sure he’s only touching his cock with his mouth, no other points of contact. Shane plumps up. He can’t offer praise when his mouth is full but he hopes his moans convey what a good job Shane is doing, staying still and taking everything Ilya is giving him.

He inches down Shane’s cock, hollowing his cheeks while sucking. He loves the feeling of Shane getting hard in his mouth. His own cock is throbbing from desire and he can’t wait for Shane’s fourth and final orgasm which will be with his dick in Shane’s ass. He moans, thinking about it.

Shane squirms, both in pleasure and oversensitivity.

“I can’t, I can’t, Ilya,” Shane whines but he hasn’t said his safe word so Ilya speeds up. He swallows around Shane’s cock. He raises his eyes to meet Shane’s.

He’s wrecked. Eyes clouded over, hair in disarray, chest heaving. He pulls back, a string of spit connecting his mouth to Shane’s cock. He blows lightly on the tip so he feels the cool air before promptly swallowing him hole.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” Shane says through gritted teeth. Ilya can feel his body tensing in preparation, and sure enough –

“Ilya,” he grunts as he comes and barely any come dribbles out of his cock this time, but Ilya swallows it nonetheless. He gives a final lick and looks at his beautiful boyfriend.

“Three,” Ilya says, proudly.

“Three,” Shane repeats in a whisper.

It’s almost time for all the touching, but he holds off until Shane’s refractory period has a chance to do its thing. He does kiss him, though. And of course, he lowers Shane’s arms and massages them again.

Unfortunately, before they can move on to the fourth orgasm, there’s an urgent knock at the door, making Ilya swear and frown. He gets off the bed and checks the peephole when the knock comes again. JJ is at the door.

“Capitaine! Things have gotten fucked up. You need to let me in right now.”

“Just a second,” Ilya says through the door, loud enough to be heard by JJ and hopefully no one else.

Ilya throws his clothes back on and cuts Shane loose then helps him with his clothes. The process takes a couple minutes, and JJ keep tapping on the door as if they’ll forget about him. Ilya is pretty sure Shane is “floating” as he calls it, so he makes sure to hold onto his hand to keep him grounded. He’ll need to do most of the talking, too, considering Shane hasn’t even said anything yet. He adjusts his erection and is sad to wish it away. Finally, he opens the door and JJ barges in, slamming it shut and flipping the latch for good measure.

JJ takes in the scene: rumpled sheets, rumpled hair, Shane looking a little too blissed out holding onto Ilya.

“Have you guys been fucking this entire time? You know what, I don’t care. Kent got a bunch of players to sign off on an email he sent to the All-Stars coordinators and fucking cc’d the media. He asked one of the Boston guys to join, he didn’t but he wanted the intel, then he came to find me to let me know. I’m annoyed I need to be nice to Boston now but I’m thankful. At least twelve guys signed it.”

Shane looks confused as to why there’s someone else in the room. He leans into Ilya.

“What did the email say, JJ,” Ilya asks in a resigned tone, having a pretty good guess already.

“Said he has reason to believe Shane is gay and that makes him and these other guys on our all-star team uncomfortable to be in the same locker room.”

Yes. Exactly what he expected. Shit.

“This is tricky. I need to call Shane’s agent and his mother; make sure they are ready. We will need to figure out what we say. Thank you for the heads up. You are good friend, JJ.”

Shane squeezes Ilya’s hand tighter.

“I’m going to stay here. Sorry I’m sure you want privacy, but the guys are very drunk downstairs and I’m not leaving you alone if they decide to come harass you. I can call up the Ottawa and New York guys, even Boston maybe?”

“Yes, would be good to show support, I think. Call them.” Ilya sits in the comfy desk chair and pulls Shane down to sit on his lap. He wanted to keep the barely-touching rule in place so that when he did fuck Shane and was touching him everywhere it would feel even more overwhelming. Another day…

Shane still hasn’t said anything, but he leans back into Ilya, trying to sink into him.

“Farah, this is Ilya,” he says when she picks up. He gives her the rundown and puts her on speakerphone.

“Thank you for informing me. I’ll have some draft statements written up for your review if anything comes of it. These guys are idiots, though. If they blatantly say it’s because he’s gay, that’s discrimination, and we’ll have an easy time suing them or the league if they are stupid enough to act on it. But you would have to confirm it and come out, Shane. I can only prove discrimination if you have the characteristic that’s being discriminated against.

Another option is to deny it. Right now, you are only lying to the public by omission to protect your privacy. If you deny it and then later decide to come out, it won’t look good.

The last option is to ignore it as much as possible. If we don’t treat it like a big deal, the public might not either and the story will be buried. When you get asked by the press, you joke with them. Say things like “I heard I’m in a relationship with X, who do I call to update their life insurance?” or “I thought I was in a relationship with Rose Landry?”.”

Ilya likes option three the best, although he does want to sue them into the ground. He squeezes Shane around the middle and holds up three fingers. Shane nods, staring into the middle distance. He squeezes tighter.

“Let’s go with the Ignoring option,” Ilya confirms.

“You got it, I’ll draft some media responses for you. Are you calling Yuna or am I?”

“I will. Thank you, Farah.” They hang up just in time for the knock at the door. JJ peers through the peep hole and informs them that Ottawa has arrived.

“Shane, I don’t want to let go, but if you don’t then you are outing yourself to them. Is your decision, if you trust them.” Ilya hates forcing Shane to make a decision in this state. He’s afraid he might be going into sub drop, which means not touching him would make things a lot worse.

“Boston said they’d stick around the other group and text me if they head this way or learn more, so it will just be Ottawa and New York,” JJ supplies.

“Let them in,” Shane mumbles with his forehead against Ilya’s temple. JJ opens the door just wide enough to let them in, but not wide enough for the hallway to see Shane and Ilya. Hayes and Boodram enter and before the door closes, Hunter and Vaughn arrive as well.

They each take a moment to soak in the scene in front of them.

“So, Kent accidentally started a rumour that happens to be true. Fuck,” Hayes swears as he pieces it together. “But thanks for trusting us with this man. We have your back.”

“This changes nothing,” Bood says in agreement.

“Thank you for sharing, Hollander. That’s very brave. And same, you have our support,” Hunter says.

“Fuck yeah, Hollzy. Sorry this is how you had to come out to us, but I’m glad you did. It will help us plan our support,” Vaughn says.

“Who else knows?” Hunter asks.

“His agent, his parents, Hayden and Jackie Pike. Oh, and Rose Landry,” Ilya responds.

“Holy shit, dude. That’s going to help us for sure. Her reach on social media is like quadruple that of any hockey player. If she’s willing to be your beard, you’re golden,” Hayes says.

“That won’t work anymore. The Metros know I’m dating Rose Landry,” JJ says.

“Ohhh right, I saw something about that. Damn. Well, we’ll think of something.”

“I need to call Yuna Hollander now, everyone be quiet.”

-

Shane was floating, it felt wonderful and free. Then it was like the hot air balloon basket he was riding in got disconnected and now he’s hurtling to the ground. He wonders when he’ll reach it? He holds onto Ilya for dear life, aware there are other people in the room, and he might be embarrassed about this later, but he doesn’t care about that right now. He’s only focused on being held by Ilya, which feels like a parachute backpack that will deploy any second now to save them.

He hears his mother’s voice through a phone, but Ilya is responding. He can feel the vibration in his chest. That’s good, Ilya is a very good personal assistant. The best. He’ll catch me from this freefall. I’ll be okay.

-

Ilya hangs up after the almost ten-minute phone call and returns his attention to Shane, who’s nuzzling into his neck. The rest of the hockey players were murmuring quietly together, some shooting Shane worried glances.

“Is Hollander going to be okay? Is this, like, an anxiety attack or something?” Hunter asks with concern in his voice.

“He will be okay. He is processing. If you don’t want to see me kiss him, turn away now,” he warns them with a smirk. They chuckle but no one turns around, though they don’t stare, either.

-

Parachute deployed! Ilya is kissing him and it’s like a tandem jump. He’s guiding Shane safely to the ground for a nice soft landing. Ilya licks into Shane mouth, and Shane greedily reciprocates. He hums, feeling more content. He opens his eyes.

“Hi.”

“Welcome back. You are okay?” Ilya checks in, because he’s the sweetest man on earth.

“Better. Thank you.”

He half-heartedly attempts to leave Ilya’s lap, but he hangs on tight so Shane remains where he is. He looks at the guys and sees faces that don’t look grossed out.

“Thanks for being here. Sorry I was out of it there… But ya. I’m gay. Ilya is my boyfriend. He is also my personal assistant, that was never a lie,” he says with as much confidence as he can muster in this moment after having been out of it for the past fifteen minutes, which isn’t a lot. It was much easier and more fun to come out to JJ. He checks in with Boodram, specifically. Bood probably knows he’s being tested.

“You’ll be safe in Ottawa, you have my word,” Bood says.

“Wait WHAT?” the chorus of Hayes-Hunter-Vaughn shouts out.

-

Ilya and Shane make the bed, luckily there’s no wet spot to worry about. They sit on top by the headboard, JJ lays down at the foot of the bed, Carter takes the desk chair and Scott commandeers the comfy chair. Hayes and Bood claim the sofa.

“Do we order food? Watch TV? If we hang out like hockey bros and those assholes come, they’ll look really stupid,” Hayes suggests.

And so, thirty minutes later, pizza arrives at the room along with a poke bowl for Shane. They are halfway through the meal when JJ’s phone starts buzzing up a storm.

Connors (BOS): they are very drunk
Connors (BOS): I’m trying to get security to escort them to their rooms
Connors (BOS): they don’t want to upset the hockey players 🙄
Connors (BOS): fuck. Incoming. About half.
Connors (BOS): Me and Carmichael are following

“Connors says the assholes are coming and they are following in behind. Says they are very drunk,” JJ recaps. Ilya turns on the TV to a music channel and kicks Carter out of the desk chair, who kicks JJ off the foot of the bed, who takes over Ilya’s vacated spot next to Shane. Ilya can feel Shane’s eyes on him and returns the eye contact, trying to convey that everything will be okay.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“Hang on, I’m going to record everything,” Hunter mutters and turns on his phone camera. Hayes gets up and opens the door.

“Uhh hey guys? Why are there so many of you? Sorry, we didn’t get enough pizza for everyone,” he says, playing the fool. The men in the doorway take in the scene they’ve seen a thousand times before, dudes chilling, listening to music, and eating junk food.

“We’re here for Hollander,” Kent says, slightly phased by the numbers. He has six guys, including himself. Shane has seven. Plus two more on the way that Kent doesn’t know about.

“If you have a question about the game tomorrow, it can wait for breakfast,” Shane says in his Captain voice. Ilya knows better than to engage this time. But his cock does twitch listening to Shane talk like that, especially in his current mental state.

Some of the players seem to come to their senses a bit, apologize to Hollander for disturbing him, and stumble away. Kent is annoyed at them.

“We’ll see if you’re still the Captain tomorrow. I sent an email to the league. Your days are numbered, freak.”

Every man in the room jumps to their feet. Kent’s wild eyes make him look ready to throw punches. Luckily for him, one of his friends pulls him back, saying “it’s not worth it”, “everyone will find out tomorrow”, and “just wait.”

They leave, with Kent calling out, “see you tomorrow, Hollywood!”

Shane and Ilya make eye contact and he can see Shane’s breathing pick up.

“Hollywood? Doesn’t Comeau call you that?” JJ asks.

“Yes. And Berke said it during that one game. And now Kent,” Shane answers.

“Esti... That can’t be a coincidence.”

“No.”

-

They were all looking at each other, at a loss. Was there seriously some inter-team conspiracy to get rid of Shane? Do they want him out of hockey or just out of Montreal? What does Kent get out of this? Shane has too many questions and there are too many people in his room, and the lights are too bright. He feels lightheaded and exhausted.

“Thanks for coming, everyone. I really, truly, appreciate your support. We’ll keep you in the loop, and if you happen to find something out, please share,” Shane says, using the last of his mental energy.

“Of course, man. All of Ottawa has your back,” Boodram says and Hayes nods.

“As does New York,” Hunter says while Vaughn gives him a “damn right”.

“You are my brother, always,” JJ says and gives Shane a hug. He returns it and gives a small, awkward wave to everyone as they file out.

The door shuts and Ilya closes the latch again.

“Sweetheart, come here,” he says, wrapping Shane in his arms. Shane slumps into him and allows himself to be rocked for a moment.

“We get into the bed now,” Ilya orders. They take off their clothes and slide under the covers and Ilya pulls Shane in to rest his head on Ilya’s chest. Shane presses his body against Ilya’s so that the most surface area is touching. He sighs when Ilya starts rubbing his back.

“Question… earlier, I was floating. Sub space, I guess? It was nice. And then when JJ came in and everything happened, I felt very weird. Different than how angry I should be at hockey players trying to sabotage me.”

“Yes. Is called sub drop. Aftercare is very important, and we were not able to do it properly. It would have been even more important because I was depriving you of touch. I am so sorry. It was stupid to try that here. Should have done that at home.”

“Oh. Okay. I’m just glad to know I’m not going crazy. The drop wasn’t fun but part of me knew you were there and were going to catch me,” Shane admits and Ilya smiles for the first time in a while. “I did like the tie. And you only touching me in one spot. It was so frustrating, but in a good way,” Shane continues sharing.

“I am so glad to hear. Next, I was going to fuck you and touch you everywhere,” Ilya murmurs.

“Damn. Now I’m even more upset we were interrupted,” Shane says before kissing Ilya’s chest.

“Me too. But we will try again another day. For now, you get proper after care so you don’t drop again,” he says, reciprocating the kiss onto Shane’s temple. His hand cards through Shane’s hair and lightly massages his scalp. Shane doesn’t remember the sweet things Ilya was whispering in his ear as he falls asleep.

-

Ilya watches the All-Star game from a seat behind Shane’s bench. He’s not sure whether the email Kent sent was read, but Shane is still the Captain. There is, however, a divide among the ranks of this team. Boiziau - Hollander – Vaughn are the first line forwards, with Connors and someone from the Brooklyn Scouts on defense. The second line is Boodram – Hunter – Carmichael. Kent and his friends make up the third line. Ilya is thankful Connors is on the ice with Shane. He’ll protect him. He doesn’t know the Scout (Finch, #27) but hopes he’s not a friend of Kent’s.

No one takes the All-Star game seriously. They don’t want to get injured at an exhibition game, so that’s what makes it very odd that the other team keeps targeting Shane. They find the openings and anticipate their every action. If it wasn’t for Connors and Finch, Shane would probably be concussed at this point. The refs aren’t calling half of what they should, and the crowd is screaming at them. Ilya cringes as Connors just barely makes it on time to block another player from rocking Shane into the boards when he doesn’t even have the puck.

Even with all the distractions, they end the first period 1-0, with Shane scoring the lonely goal. Hayes is a brick wall stopping every puck coming his way.

The rest of the game proceeds in the same fashion, with the other team being way too physical when Shane is on the ice. Ilya will need to buy Connors a drink for all the extra skating he has to do to protect Shane. Hunter scores in the third period bringing the score to 2-0. The siren sounds and the game is over. The players line up and shake hands or fist bump. A handful of players on the other team pass Shane without a word or a touch.

That night, the same group converges in Shane’s room again, this time with Connors in tow. Shane and Ilya will need to be careful, but they can not touch for a couple hours, right?

Ilya shares his good vodka with Connors and they chat about Boston. He can see Shane on his bed, texting. Probably Yuna or Rose. The rest were talking about the game and congratulating Hayes on his shut out.

Once their room service arrives, everyone digs in and Ilya finds himself next to Shane somehow. Shane refuses to let anyone eat on his bed and takes a seat on the sofa next to Ilya, who has his legs spread wide for comfort. Shane does a similar pose and their knees touch. It’s so stupid and small but it sends an electric jolt through his body nonetheless.

“Carmichael used to play with someone who’s now close to Kent. He’ll message me if they plan to come back here,” Connors says.

About an hour later, Connors gets a text and shares it with the group.

Carmy: think ur safe, they went to a strip club

Everyone relaxes and the party breaks up until Ilya and Shane are alone. Ilya closes the latch again and guides Shane to the shower. They take turns cleaning each other and cuddle back in bed once dried off. They don’t say anything until close to 1am when their phones start exploding.

Anonymous Source Claims Montreal Metros Captain Shane Hollander #24 is Gay
by Julian Berke, posted 12:37am EDT

An MLH All-Star player that prefers to remain anonymous has disclosed the hidden sexuality of the Metros Captain. He states many players are uncomfortable sharing a locker room and a shower with him, and they are afraid to say anything. When asked for proof of his claims, the player said, “It’s an open secret.” At the time of posting, the Shane Hollander camp has not provided a comment. More to come as the story develops.

Guest: “at the time of posting” you mean past midnight??
HockeyIsLyfe: what story? You posted a rumour and are calling it a story. You should be ashamed.
MTLRox: this better not be fucking true
Hotlander: by Julian Berke? Related to the New Jersey player? 👀
>>Guest: oh shit you might be on to something
An0nym0us: so no evidence then?

-

Shane gets next to no sleep but at least he can cling to Ilya all night while Ilya coordinates with Farah and his mother. Shane isn’t sure how to describe what he’s feeling. Fear is up there, he’s not ready to be out to the world, yet. Safe, because Ilya is handling it. Anxious, because he knows he’ll be asked about it at the next press conference. Hopeful, because the move to Ottawa can’t come at a better time. And stressed, because he can guess the kind of reception he’ll get in Montreal for the remaining two weeks.

He must have fallen asleep eventually, though. Ilya gently wakes him up and tells him their flight has been changed, and they need to pack and head out in the next hour to make it on time. Shane takes in Ilya’s wan complexion and guesses he didn’t get any sleep at all. Before he can ask how he’s doing, Ilya keeps him busy getting ready and they are out the door in record time. They are quiet in the cab ride and it’s not until they are finally sitting at their gate at 7:30am with no one around that Ilya fills him in.

Most of the reactions from the “article” are skeptical. For now, Shane’s social media is posting highlights of the All-Star game and skills competition. Specifically clips of him interacting with other players to disprove (without saying anything outright) that no one is afraid of him. Many comments are positive, praising him on taking the high road.

There’s a small group of dissenters, of course, but so far, they are being drowned out. Ilya started a hashtag campaign on Twitter “#ShaneHollanderIsTheGoat” and posting clips of his best goals in his career. Others gladly hopped on that train and now it’s trending. Throughout the rest of the day, Ilya has their friends post about what it’s like to play with Shane.

@ScottHunterOfficial: @ShaneHollanderHockey24 It was a pleasure playing with you this weekend! But now I can’t wait for next week to meet you at the face off.

@RealZaneBoodram: Me, @ShaneHollanderHockey24, and @ScottHunterOfficial prove why the East Coast is the best Coast! Hardest Shot, Fastest Skater, and Shot Accuracy. Don’t @ me!

And so on. Shane scrolls on twitter with a promise to Ilya that he won’t respond or post anything. Ilya sleeps on the flight home and although it was tough, he keeps his promise.

-

The second day back is a team practice and tape review. When Shane enters the locker room, the room goes quiet. He looks around at his team, taking in their expressions. He thinks “disgust” and “disdain” are the prevailing emotions. Hayden and JJ break the silence and welcome him back and they chat about the weekend, trying to act normal.

“Is it true?” Comeau asks suddenly and loudly. Shane turns around, knowing the question is directed at him.

“Yes, it’s true. I won the Fastest Skater competition,” Shane says dryly. JJ and Hayden chuckle.

“You know what I’m asking! The article! I think we have a right to know if we’re sharing a locker with a pervert,” Comeau sneers.

“What the fuck, Comeau? You don’t talk to your Captain like that. You should be defending him against ridiculous news outlets trying to start drama,” Pike says in his Alternate Captain voice. Some of the players look conflicted instead of disgusted, so that’s an improvement.

“He hasn’t answered the question,” Drapeau says, standing up.

“Because it’s pointless. When I say No, you won’t believe me. You’d rather believe Berke’s fucking cousin than the man you’ve been playing with for six years. Get your heads out of your asses, get dressed, and hit the fucking ice,” Shane says in a commanding voice then he finishes getting dressed. No one else says anything. They make it to the ice and Shane says, “Sticks away. Bag skates. 15 minutes.” There’s a collective groan, but half (mostly forwards) proceed to toss their sticks over the board without talking back. The other half (mostly defense) look to Comeau to see if he’ll say anything. One of the assistant coaches whistles and hurries the other players to get in position for bag skates, which forces the rest to comply.

The next week and a half are the same. Tension on the team continues to rise, and they don’t even know with certainty that Shane is, in fact, gay. He can only imagine how much worse it would be if they knew. This thought should break his heart, but he feels like someone who already broke up with their partner and is just waiting for the right time to let them know.

Their defense continues to leave him open, preferring to be yelled at by the coaches than doing their job properly. Other teams take notice and take advantage, leaving him bruised and bloodied. He’s just happy he hasn’t broken anything yet.

Finally, the trade is announced on deadline day. Shane is already packed, thanks to Ilya. He has a temporary house to rent near the practice rink (thanks to Ilya) until he can build a house on a vacant lot he purchased in Manotick. The movers will arrive any moment and Shane is having a final drink with the Pikes and JJ. Ilya lets him have this moment with his friends and busies himself with handling the social media fallout. As expected, Ville de Montréal is shocked, outraged, angry, and ready to riot. City of Ottawa is over the moon excited. The Metros are pretending to feel betrayed but according to the team group chat (that Pike and Boiziau are still part of) there’s a sentiment of “he didn’t have what it takes to lead us” and “good riddance”, at least from the vets. Some of the rookies and younger players reached out to him privately to thank him, which felt nice.

“We will miss you so much, don’t be stranger, okay?” Jackie says, not letting go of the hug. Shane pats her back.

“Of course. Only two hours away,” he promises.

The twins made him a farewell card where they drew their family with Shane included. He’s definitely not getting misty eyed. Arthur doesn’t understand what’s happening but gives him a hug anyway.

Hayden is also definitely not misty eyed. They don’t say anything at first, just hug tight and rock slightly.

“Thank you,” Shane whispers.

“Fuck you,” Hayden says, affectionately. They pull apart and Jackie leans into her husband’s side for support.

JJ grabbed his hand and did the bro half hug thing but still holds him tight.

“Thanks for all your help. Take care of Rose for me,” Shane says quietly.

“Anytime, mon frère. As I said, you’ll always be my brother, and we’ll meet up after every game.”

“You got it. Okay, I need to hit the road before Montreal police shuts down the city,” he half-jokes, only partially certain the city won’t riot. Luckily, the fallout is currently landing on Montreal management, but there’s some news outlets that seem to know the partial truth, that Shane himself asked to be transferred. Even then, most question what management did to make Shane want to leave. For now. Shane isn’t naïve, he knows the truth will come out eventually. He just hopes he has the Ottawa team for support when that happens.

Chapter 19: Ottawa

Chapter Summary

Previously on P.A. Wanted: Dallas Kent stirs up drama and rumours at the All-Stars. Shane's new friends show him support.

In today's episode: Shane and Ilya move to Ottawa and get settled in the new routine.

Chapter Notes

CW: homophobic language

**Edit**: I don't know how I forgot that Nick's wife has a name in the books, but anyway I've updated references of "Lilianne" to "Serena"!

Also it's "Alternate" not "Assistant" Captain. Made those updates too!

One Week Ago

Ilya has two contracts on his iPad. Two one-year rentals in Ottawa near the rinks. One is a penthouse worthy of a professional hockey player and the other is a nice, clean, bachelor apartment in the same building, but near the ground floor. If he’s being honest, he’d rather not have his own apartment, but it must be too soon, right? I mean, they haven’t even said they love each other, yet. That probably comes first?

Not that Ilya doesn’t feel that way. He just hasn’t said it out loud, yet. Is it too soon for that, too? But if he feels it, it can’t be too soon, right? Sure, it’s only been like five months since they met, but they’ve spent 99% of their time together even before they were sleeping together. It feels like a lot longer than five months. In a good way. An amazing way.

“Hey, you okay? You’ve been staring off into space for a few minutes,” Shane asks, because he’s perfect and observant and kind. They’re standing in the dining room, with the sun setting behind them.

“Yes, sorry. I have rental contract for you to sign,” he answers, flipping the iPad around and sliding it on the table so Shane can look through it. He leans over and swipes through, initials everywhere, signs where it asks, but doesn’t hit the submit button.

“Um. I don’t know how to ask…” Shane starts, standing up straight.

“You know you can always ask me anything,” Ilya says, frowning in concern. Shane is playing with a thread on his sweater’s cuff.

“Other than finding this place, we never talked about… living arrangements,” Shane eventually spits out.

“Ah. Yes. There is an apartment for rent on the second floor of same building, I have contract open for that, too,” Ilya says carefully.

“Oh! Um, cool. That’s… convenient, yeah,” Shane says, looking down at his hands.

“Is… too close? I can find different building, whatever you want,” Ilya says, heart plummeting but hiding it very well, he thinks.

“What? No! No. I’m saying. If you want… I mean, it would be… fuck. I can’t find the right words. Just. Same building is good. Um… but… same apartment would be better?” Shane says it like a question, finally looking up at him to gauge his reaction.

Ilya launches himself at Shane, kissing him, one hand squeezing his hip while the other tugs at his hair. Shane is kissing him back, hands on his chest at first, then travelling up to his shoulders. Their lips part, and they’re smiling.

“You are sure?”

“I’ve never wanted anything more,” Shane says, now full of confidence.

I love you, I love you, I love you

Ilya’s still not sure it’s the right time to say it, but he tries to convey his feelings through his actions, which, right now, involve a lot more kissing and a lot less clothing.

Ottawa

They pull up to the apartment building, find their assigned underground parking spots (next to each other), and stretch their legs. The movers are due to arrive any minute, so they head to the lobby to wait.

The elevator doors open and Shane is struck by a wall of black and red jerseys and a storm of cheering. When his eyes focus, he discovers the full roster of the Ottawa Centaurs. Boodram whistles to get everyone’s attention while Shane is still a little shell shocked. He wasn’t expecting to meet anyone until the following day at practice.

“Centaurs, meet your new Alternate Captain, the one-and-only Shane mother fucking Hollander!” More cheers. Everyone looks excited and Shane is maybe catching the vibe. A bit. A smile forms on his face, at least.

“And get used to seeing his Personal Assistant, yes he has a personal assistant because he’s a fucking badass, Ilya Rozanov!” Laughter and cheers and waves.

“Hollander, you’ve met us on the ice but let me formally introduce you. Wyatt Hayes, Goalie, you know already,” he starts. Hayes waves, turns around to show off his number (#30), and turns back around.

“Evan Dykstra! Defense.” Dykstra waves and turns (#47). Okay, this waving and turning thing is kind of adorable and makes Shane smile a little wider.

“Tanner Dillon, Right Wing.”

“Nick Chouinard, Defense.”

And so on.

“Welcome to your new home! It’s a Centaur’s tradition to help the new transfer move in, so put us to work!”

“Wow, this is amazing. Thanks, guys. The movers should be here soon; the apartment is already furnished so most of my stuff is going in storage until my house is built. Can I take a rain check on the help for when I move for real?”

“Absolutely, whatever you need! Practice tomorrow is at 10am but Coach wants you there at 9 for paperwork and social media stuff. Tomorrow night is the mandatory welcome BBQ at my place, come any time after 6pm!”

“BBQ? Isn’t it still a little cold outside…?” Shane asks and most of the Centaurs groan while Bood extols the virtues of his heated patio and how BBQ season is all-year long.

“Roz, you have to come too, of course! You’re part of the team, now. Coach has some Cens office gear to give you tomorrow as well.” Shane looks at Ilya whose eyebrows are raised in surprise but nods anyway.

“Excellent. We’ll leave you to it. See you tomorrow!” The Centaurs call out their goodbyes until it’s just Bood and Hayes left.

“We didn’t tell the team about you guys, obviously. You can come out or not, totally up to you. The guys will be good about it,” Bood adds, quietly, even though the lobby is otherwise empty.

“Thanks, man. We’ll get our bearings first before we decide.”

“And Lisa and I would love to have you guys over for dinner. She doesn’t know yet, but if you wanted a double date where you don’t have to hide, we’d love to have you. Lisa is a doctor at the Children’s Hospital of Eastern Ontario, so she’s trustworthy.”

“Thanks, man,” Shane is starting the feel like a broken record. Surely, he knows other responses?

“I’m sure we’ll take you up on that,” he says and Ilya beams.

-

Inside the penthouse, the door closes and before Shane can get a proper look around Ilya pushes his back into the door and crashes their lips together.

“Wait wait wait, the movers will be here, we don’t have time,” Shane says while Ilya is kissing his neck.

“I know. But hearing you say “we” is making me crazy,” Ilya says and presses his body against Shane’s so the other man can feel how hard he is. Shane’s body responds and their both moaning, kissing, and grinding against each other.

BZZZZZT

The movers are here.

“Fuck!”

-

The apartment is unpacked, the bed is made, and Shane is mentally and emotionally exhausted. He wants to curl up under the duvet and sleep. Luckily, Shane was able to delay his parents coming over by promising they’d host them for dinner Friday night. Ilya probably wants to break in the new apartment, and, really, so does Shane, but he’s so drained.

Shane realizes he’s been standing at the foot of the bed just staring at it for a couple minutes when Ilya wraps his arms around him and kisses his cheek.

“Sweetheart, it has been long day, yes? Why don’t we shower and sleep, and you can wake me up with nice morning blow job, hm?” He says the last bit with a smirk on his ridiculously handsome face. Shane can’t help but smile back.

“Deal. Thank you for everything today. I’m surprised I didn’t freak out, to be honest,” Shane says as he turns around in Ilya’s arms.

“Is my job to make your life easier. Today I was P.A. and boyfriend. Double duty. And now we are here and I will hold you all night. If your brain gets too loud, you wake me up, okay?”

Shane kisses him.

“You need a raise,” he teases.

“You keep saying this and yet I do not have raise. Do you need me to tell your accountant to give me a raise?” He teases back and lightly bites Shane’s shoulder.

“Yes.”

“Okay. Second thing tomorrow. First thing is blow job.”

“Second thing isn’t giving me a blow job?” Shane asks, mock-angry.

“Hmmmm we will see how good the blow job is,” Ilya says then pushes Shane towards the bathroom.

Ilya wakes up the following morning to Shane’s mouth on his cock, and of course Ilya reciprocates.

-

At 9am sharp, Shane and Ilya arrive at the Canadian Tire Centre and are greeted by –

“Harris Drover, Social Media Manager, you’ll be seeing a lot of me!”

They shake hands and Ilya takes in the Pride pins and immediately likes this guy. He must be who the team talked about in their survey.

“Follow me, first up is the boring paperwork, then you get your gear, then you take your official photo, then we do a short “get to know you” video for social media, and THEN you can hit the locker room and go back to being a hockey player!” He walks as he talks.

Ilya watches Shane as he takes it all in. Shane squares his shoulders and his jaw is tight, so Ilya gently bumps their shoulders together in an unsuspicious way, just two guys walking side by side in a narrow-ish hallway. Shane does take a deep breath, though, so Ilya thinks it was the right call.

They make it to Coach Wiebe’s office and Shane takes a seat while Harris drags Ilya away to get his own Cens merch.

“Why do I get to wear Cens clothing? I work for Hollander, not the Centaurs…” Ilya asks.

“And Hollander works for us! So, by the transitive properties of science or whatever, you are a Centaur, too. Don’t worry, you don’t have to wear it if you don’t want. But we figured we’d like to give you the option. Especially for away games. When I’m snapping pictures and if you happen to be in the background, no one will question who the hot guy is. Well, okay, they probably still will, but we can provide cover if you don’t want to disclose that you’re… uh… his personal assistant,” Harris says. He sure does like to talk a lot, Ilya notices. He also notices the hesitation and doesn’t believe for a second that Harris hasn’t seen right through them. How could he have figured it out so quickly, though?

“You are very smart, Harris. And I really am his personal assistant, as well as his, uh, friend," Ilya says, which is as much as he’s willing to say without Shane’s consent.

“Of course. So, let’s see, you would be what, a size Large?” Harris says as he rifles through the boxes of polo shirts for the Men’s Large.

“Yes, I am quite large,” Ilya says suggestively and jokingly so that Harris doesn’t think he’s flirting. It works and Harris bellows out a laugh.

“Okay big guy, here you go! Plus, a couple hats, a lanyard, here’s some pens, oh and the jackets! We’re going into spring so here’s a rack of windbreakers that are also waterproof.”

When Ilya leaves the merchandise storage room, he has a bag full of the ugly Centaurs logo and he feels quite happy. By the time they get back to Coach’s office, Shane is wearing his new jersey (still #24, of course) and a woman is leading him to her studio to take his portrait. Fuck, he looks good, Ilya thinks. Shane is going for a serious pose and it’s really doing something for him.

“God damn,” Harris whispers, eyes wide. Ilya bumps his hip into Harris and gives him an evil glare. Harris chokes back a laugh and puts his hands up to surrender. Ilya will have to reign in his jealousy around other people, but at least he’s safe with Harris. Genevieve, the photographer, thanks him and she and Harris set up two chairs for the interview.

-

Coach Wiebe blows his whistle and the Centaurs line up for the next drill.

“Hollander! You run the passing drill,” he calls out then focuses on his clipboard.

Shane skates out of the line up and gets them started, giving individual corrections as needed. He feels awkward at first. In Montreal, the older players hated when he offered advice. He assumes it will be similar here, so the first time he says anything to an older player he does so tentatively. He’s not glared at, though, and the player takes the advice and incorporates it while thanking him. Shane feels…not tense? He’s not familiar with this feeling during practice, but he thinks it’s approaching ease. By the end of practice, the team is excitedly leaving the ice and Bood skates over to him.

“Hollander, you are exactly what we needed. I’ve never seen them leave the ice hopeful before.”

“Oh, well thank you. I was worried I was taking over practice. I never want to overstep, so please tell me when I do,” Shane says, frowning to show his seriousness.

“Never. I think we balance each other out. You have the technical skill, I have the team spirit, and together we’ll be unstoppable!” He claps Shane on the back, smiling wide.

Shane plasters a smile on his face and fist bumps him. He can’t help but feel a sense of dread at those words, though. This was the same dynamic he had with JJ as his A. JJ was the social one that kept the team together, which meant he was the one everyone liked. Shane was the one everyone tolerated during games and hated listening to during practices. What if the same thing happens here?

All the guys are chatting in the locker room and showers, Dykstra has terrible music on the speaker, and Shane is quiet as he absorbs the team dynamic. The team doesn’t let him stay quiet for long, including him in conversations and not scoffing or making fun of him for his responses. The conversation steers into relationships when Dillon announces he has a date that night with a realtor. Shane braces himself for discussions about her body.

“I was helping my sister look at places last weekend and she was the realtor. Gorgeous and smart. At the end, she gave me her business card, but her personal number was written overtop in sharpie! Even my dumbass can take a hint that clear. I think I’m in love!”

“Good luck tonight, man! Don’t fuck it up,” LaPointe says, clapping him on the shoulder. Shane is looking between them utterly confused. In the Metros locker room, he would have been showing off pictures by now and the rest of the team would be judging the size of her breasts.

“How about you, Hollander? Did you leave anyone special back in Montreal?” Dykstra asks.

Shane is all dressed and finishing packing his bag when the question comes. Ilya also happens to walk in at the exact same time and flashes him a smirk so quickly if you blinked you would have missed it. Shane almost did miss it because he was busy taking in Ilya’s new Centaurs wardrobe. What was the question?

“Well, according to some corners of the internet, me and Hayden Pike are apparently in a secret relationship. So, I guess I did leave him back in Montreal,” he deflects with a joke and some of the guys do laugh.

“I heard of this! They call you “Shayden”. As if you could not do better than Montreal’s 15th best player,” Ilya chimes in to more laughter.

Bood interrupts the conversation before it could return to Shane’s love life and reminds everyone about the mandatory team dinner at his place that evening.

“Go home, shower again, get dressed in something nicer than sweatpants, please, and bring a partner or friend!”

Shane leaves the room feeling weird (good weird) with Ilya beside him, who catches him up on his schedule.

“Tomorrow is optional practice and tape review. Thursday is a full day of sponsor stuff then game at night. An interview for Men’s Health with a photoshoot, and a commercial for sparkling water. Friday is mandatory 10am practice then your parents are coming over for dinner. Saturday is game night and Sunday is travel day.”

They make it to the Land Rover and once the doors shut Shane sinks into the passenger seat and lets his left hand grip Ilya’s thigh. Ilya places his hand on top of Shane’s and gives it a squeeze.

“Talk to me. How are you feeling?”

“Good. Buzzy. Scared. Happy. I don’t know,” Shane says as honestly as he can. “How are you? This is a big change for you, too.”

“I am really good. This week I will focus on making new network in Ottawa so when you say you want an indoor sauna I will know exactly where to go.”

“Are you asking me to buy us an indoor sauna?” Shane asks with a grin.

“Well, that one time we had fun in a sauna but did not get to finish…” Ilya says with a pout.

“Oh my god,” Shane smiles wider, remembering the hotel in Vancouver. “I’ll think about it.”

“Is all I ask! Now, if you wanted to give me road head, you totally could.”

“If I wanted, eh?”

“I am nice guy!”

Shane laughs but they live too close to the arena to start anything. He does tease him a bit by rubbing over his jeans and earning himself a pleased groan from Ilya.

-

They have a couple hours before they need to leave for Bood’s BBQ, and Ilya knows exactly what he wants to do. Shane hops in the shower, of course, and Ilya puts on workout clothes and goes to the extra bedroom they turned into a small gym. It’s not as good as the one in Montreal, but the house Shane is building will have a proper, full-sized gym. After warming up, Ilya does 25-20-15-10-5 of Goblet Squats, Pushups, Lunges, and Bicep Curls. Shane finds him during the 15-rep round and stands in the doorway, admiring the view. Ilya is wearing his shortest workout shorts, no shirt, and has a nice sheen of sweat glistening on his chest. Ilya catches Shane’s roving gaze from the mirror.

“Like what you see?”

Shane nods, then says in a husky voice, “Take off the shorts.”

Ilya obliges, and removes his shorts, revealing his lack of boxers underneath. His round ass is open to the air as he drops down for pushups. Shane’s breath catches as he watches Ilya’s muscles bunch and flex through the workout. Ilya feels powerful and when it’s time to switch to weighted lunges, he angles himself so Shane can get a profile view to accentuate his ass and his hard cock. He clocks Shane rubbing his own erection over his pants and feels a wetness leak out of his own tip. When it’s time for his bicep curls, he grabs the forty-pound dumbbells and alternates arms while facing Shane directly and maintaining eye contact.

“Fuck, Ilya,” Shane moans.

-

Two can play at this game, Shane muses in his lust-drunk haze. He takes his clothes off and starts his yoga routine right in front of Ilya. He begins with downward dog then moves into a cobra pose. He goes back and forth for the time it takes Ilya to complete his curls. When Ilya switches to squats, Shane moves from cobra to child’s pose. He can feel Ilya’s eyes on him and laments that these poses don’t show off how hard he is. Ilya drops down for pushups and Shane transitions to Cat Cow. Seeing Shane on his hands and knees seems to break Ilya’s concentration because his pushups faulter.

Ilya crawls between his legs, spreads his ass cheeks, and licks a strip from his balls to his hole. Shane shivers and moves into puppy pose to give Ilya even better access. Shane feels Ilya’s tongue circling the rim and he pushes back slightly into Ilya’s face to encourage his tongue to enter. He takes the hint and spears his tongue inside causing Shane to swear. Ilya is moving maddeningly slowly, though.

“Please, baby, more,” Shane’s beg is muffled slightly by the yoga mat. Ilya leans back, tongue leaving Shane which is decidedly much less than the more he just asked for. He whimpers and is relieved when Ilya leans back in, this time with a lubed finger joining his tongue. Shane can’t help but rock into him and is rewarded with a second finger. Ilya’s tongue leaves but doesn’t go far. He can feel kisses travelling from his cheek down his arched back and he finally picks up the pace with his fingers.

“You are so fucking sexy, Shane. I cannot get enough of you. Want you all the time. I’m so lucky, sweetheart. And now we live together and I can do this anytime I want, yes?”

“Fuck yes. Anytime. Want to feel you,” Shane pants back. Ilya’s third finger enters and Shane feels the stretch but there’s no pain, only anticipation. “I’m ready, baby. Please, fuck me. No condom, want to feel you come on my face.”

Shane wants everything. He wants Ilya to fuck him, but he also wants to taste his come. Who says he can’t have his cake and eat it, too?

“Fuck, Shane,” Ilya says in an awestruck voice as he repositions himself, and next thing he feels is Ilya’s lubed up cock lining up with his hole and his strong hands holding Shane’s hips. Ilya pushes in and doesn’t stop until Shane is full. They grunt in unison at the shared pleasure and Ilya pumps his hips in a steady rhythm. Shane manages to look up and is very thankful he thought to install the full wall mirror yesterday. He takes in the reflection of Ilya’s beautiful face as he continues to thrust. Ilya’s mouth is open, his eyes are concentrated on Shane, and his entire body is shining from sweat. Ilya must sense Shane’s gaze because he looks to the mirror and they lock eyes, the eye contact sending a hot current from his face to his cock.

Ilya’s strong hands grab his shoulders and lift him up, so his back is flush to Ilya’s chest. The feeling of fullness moving around inside especially as it rubs against his prostate causes Shane to moan with each exhale. He keeps his eyes open and watches Ilya’s reflection as he bites lightly into his neck. Shane cranes his neck to give Ilya more space to work with. Ilya doesn’t stop thrusting up into him and then he’s whispering in Shane’s ear, “Touch yourself.” Shane’s hands had been resting on top of Ilya’s which were planted on Shane’s hips. Shane bends forward to reach the lube and cries out in pleasure at the change in angle. Ilya must not want him to come just yet, though, so he pulls himself back up, grinding back against Ilya, then grabs his lubed-up cock. He humps into his hand in time with Ilya’s thrusts.

“You are so fucking hot, Shane. No one has ever made me as crazy as you do. Touching yourself for me while I fuck you in our gym,” Ilya rambles into his ear, his beautiful curls plastered to his forehead from the sweat.

“Ilya, I’m close, please baby…” Shane begs into the mirror.

Ilya slides out much to Shane’s dismay, which he vocalizes with a cry. He stands up quickly in front of Shane and pumps his fist along his own length, cock pointed straight at Shane’s face.

“Yes, please, give it to me,” Shane says then keeps his mouth open and masturbates faster. Ilya’s mouth is closed tight as he focuses on his own pleasure, and a few moments later he’s bending forwards as his orgasm rips through him, come landing across Shane’s face and on his tongue. At the first splash of warmth in his mouth, Shane comes with a shout. Ilya continues to pump his hand and drags his cock across Shane’s wet face. Shane catches it in his mouth and suckles while Ilya convulses from the overstimulation. Shane’s own fist is covered in his release and he’s sure he’ll need to buy a new yoga mat. Ilya sinks down to his knees in front of Shane and they share a passionate kiss.

-

A showered and dressed Shane and Ilya arrive at Bood’s house at 6:30pm. Shane offers a bottle of wine to the host while Ilya hands off a bottle of (good, Russian) vodka. They are welcomed inside and find half the team is there already, as well as Harris, Gen the photographer, and Coach Wiebe. They get a rousing welcome when they enter the living room.

“What would you like to drink? We’ve got pretty much everything, including Harris’ family’s Apple Cider!” Cassie explains.

“You have to try it!” Harris exclaims. “It’s not too strong, and it’s not too sweet. It’s just right!”

Ilya is pleasantly surprised when Shane agrees to try it. Shane said he would be the designated driver tonight, but perhaps they can Uber home and pick up the vehicle another day.

They cheers and take a sip and Ilya is delighted by the taste. It’s no homeland vodka, but it’s nice and light, just as advertised.

“My parents started it before us kids were born, but now my two sisters run the show! I had no interest running the family business, but I help with their socials when I can! And it doesn’t hurt to have pictures of the Centaurs drinking it, that’s for sure,” Harris says with a wink.

Shane and Ilya make their rounds, chatting with each group, and welcoming other team members as they arrive. Bood announces that the feast is ready and everyone jumps up and tries to get in line first. Ilya makes up his overflowing plate of ribs, pulled pork, and jerk chicken, with a side of cole slaw to be healthy. Shane focused on the jerk chicken before loading the rest of the plate with quinoa salad and broccoli salad. The sliding door to the patio is open and they are ushered outside where they find seats. Ilya is surprised at how warm it is in the covered gazebo with the patio heaters. There’s also a gas fire-pit in the center providing even more heat. Hayes and his wife, Lisa, take the empty seats next to them.

“Have you been following the discourse about your trade at all?” Lisa asks.

“Not since the first day it was announced. Well, I’m sure Ilya has been, and my manager and agent. But I’ve just been focused on the move and practice and my first game as a Centaur against the Guardians.”

“The Metros official statement was weird considering you were their captain for years. The people of Montreal are pissed they let you go and didn’t fight for you,” Hayes supplies.

“What was the reaction from the team?” Shane asks, turning to Ilya. Ilya sighs.

“Obviously Pike and Boiziau posted support. But the rest… well, it looks like support unless you know them. Things like “Wishing our old captain well in his hometown, where he belongs,”” Ilya says, cringing. Shane snorts.

“Because I never belonged there, according to them,” Shane snorts derisively. “Did they announce who the new Captain is? JJ hasn’t sent me anything…”

“Not yet.”

“According to the WAG network, the reveal of the new Captain will be at their next game, which is tomorrow.”

“I wonder how long until the people of Montreal turn on me. Probably the first time we play them, right?”

“Probably,” Hayes agrees. “But who needs them! You seriously made the right call, coming here. And now with you in front and me in nets I think we’ll start to win some games!”

Shane smiles and nods, finally digging into his food. Ilya is a quarter of the way through his, not able to participate much in the conversation because his mouth is too full of delicious meat.

“Bood! Is best ribs I have ever had. What is secret?” Ilya calls out after swallowing a particularly juicy fall-off-the-bone bite.

“I’m not giving away the recipe, but the trick is to cook it in a smoker all day!”

Ilya goes back for seconds and enjoys another Drover Apple Cider while chatting with Cassie. He’s only gone for a couple minutes, but Shane finds him inside. Cassie gets Shane a Ginger Ale then shuffles off to play hostess.

“Miss me?” Ilya says in a low voice so as not to be overheard. The party is loud and there’s background music to help drown him out.

“Always. Plus, they started passing around a joint and I didn’t want to get hot boxed in that gazebo.”

“Ah. Have you ever? Maybe in summer?”

“Not a joint, I don’t like the idea of smoke in my lungs. But I’ve tried a gummy before. It was nice until I got the munchies. I think I ate every bag of microwave popcorn I had at the cottage. Definitely not good for my nutrition plan,” Shane chuckles. “You?”

“Yes, sometimes. When I have time off. But usually is gummy or weed drink. I quit smoking years ago. I am afraid smoking joint will make me want a real cigarette.”

“That’s smart. And good for you, for quitting,” Shane smiles and Ilya thinks he’s about to lean in for a kiss. Shane must realize this too and slowly pulls away so it doesn’t look suspicious. He takes a small step further back to keep a more friendly distance, and Ilya’s hands twitch, wanting to reach out and place his hand on Shane’s waist. Maybe soon, once Shane is used to this team, they can come out. At least to the team.

“It’s a good thing these hockey players are all dumb jocks,” Harris says as he approaches. “I don’t know anything but if there’s something to know, it’s very obvious when you guys look at each other. The guys won’t clock it, probably, but the wives might. So just be careful until you’re ready, yeah?”

Shane stills, eyes wide. Ilya wants to comfort him but that would go against what Harris just said.

“Like I said, I know nothing nor will I say anything to anyone.”

“Thanks, Harris,” Shane manages, sounding tense but not panicked.

“No thanks, needed. I’m here if you ever want to talk to someone who’s not a player,” Harris offers.

“Find your own hot hockey player, Harris,” Ilya jokes to lighten the mood.

“I’m trying! There’s not a lot of options, you know. If you learn of any gay or bisexual players, send them my way, okay?”

-

Back at the apartment, Shane’s mind wouldn’t shut up. Bood and Hayes know. Lisa might already know. Harris figured it out even if it’s not confirmed. Does Wiebe know? Are they as obvious as Harris says or is he just very perceptive? Did the rumour from the All-Star weekend get traction? What if more people figure it out?

“You are thinking very loudly, sweetheart,” Ilya says, wrapping his arms around Shane’s waist. “You know what to do. You tell me. I stop spiral, yes?”

“I don’t what the best option is. Do we tell the team right away, so we aren’t lying to them? But then I’m not sure how comfortable I feel telling them. I hardly know them. Everyone’s been nice so far, but… it feels like I’m losing control. Harris is right. I’m too obvious when I look at you and can’t stay away from you. They’re going to figure it out,” Shane talks in a stream of consciousness, not worried about making too much sense. He leans his forehead against Ilya’s shoulder, and Ilya rubs his back soothingly.

“Is okay. This is a lot of change at once, yes? The rest of the team will not figure anything out. You play with them for a month, get to know them. Maybe then you feel comfortable. Or maybe you don’t. You do not need to come out for me, sweetheart. That is big decision. And if it helps, I will try not to come see you in the arena for silly reasons.”

“Okay, yeah, I can give myself a month before I decide. But I don’t like the idea of you avoiding me, even if it makes sense.”

“Okey. I still come see you. But maybe not in locker room. Is very hard not to get hard when you are half-dressed or wet from shower,” Ilya says with a smile then kisses his temple.

“That’s fair. I don’t know how you hold back, to be honest. I can’t see you in any state of undress without losing my mind.”

“Oh really?” Ilya says, smiling, and taking the bait by removing his shirt. Shane caresses his chest then follows up with his mouth on Ilya’s nipple, tugging it while Ilya’s hands land in Shane’s hair. Shane sinks to his knees.

“Really really,” he says, nuzzling against Ilya’s clothed groin.

“Then I will be sure to - ah - wear extra layers at the arena,” Ilya says, breath catching when Shane unzips his jeans and kisses his dick over his boxers. Shane shoves Ilya’s pants and boxers down.

“That’s a good plan, you’re so smart,” Shane says as if in a trance before he takes Ilya in his mouth.

“Fuck. How are you so perfect?” Ilya says. Shane looks up at him while he bobs his head and enjoys the weight of him on his tongue.

A constant vibration from Ilya’s discarded jeans disrupts the wet sounds of the suction. Shane leans over to grab the phone and passes it to Ilya without letting him slip out of his mouth.

“Is agent, I should take this, calling so late…” Ilya taps his head, but Shane shakes his head as much as he can, then waves his hand as if to say, “take the call”. Shane wants to see if Ilya can keep a straight face.

“Farah, hi, is everything okay?” Ilya manages to sound mostly normal. Shane reaches up to squeeze his pec.

“Ah. Hmmm. Mmm. Mmhmm.” Ilya tries to breathe normally while watching Shane, so Shane looks up at him and speeds up.

“I seeee. I will tell him. Yesss. Thank you for calling,” Ilya hangs up and throws the phone away, both hands landing on Shane’s head.

“Fuck that was so fucking hot, Shane. Don’t stop. Fuck,” Ilya comes down Shane’s throat with a cry. After licking him clean, Shane sits back on his heels and looks up at his naked and wrecked boyfriend.

“So, what did Farah want?”

-

Metrois

Shane: Just got the news from my agent. SERIOUSLY?

Hayden: we found out today at practice
Hayden: it was a bad practice. He has no idea wtf he’s doing

Shane: JJ are you okay?

JJ, #16: no

Shane: but you’re still the A?

JJ, #16: no

Shane: WHAT
Shane: fuck I’m so sorry, this is all my fault

Hayden: no way, you can’t blame yourself. Coach is an idiot

JJ, #16: Comeau and Drapeau
JJ, #16: I still can’t believe it

Shane: DRAPEAU IS THE A?????????!

“You didn’t tell me Drapeau took the A from JJ!” Shane says, affronted, to Ilya who’s lying next to him in bed scrolling on Twitter.

“Is not my fault I had hot boyfriend sucking my dick. Could not remember every detail!”

Shane purses his lips to control the smile threatening to overtake his face.

Hayden: practice was a shit show. Comeau was power tripping the entire time and Drapeau acted like he didn’t have to do any work.

JJ, #16: I’m going to take a shower and nap and maybe I’ll wake up and this is all just a nightmare.

Shane: fuck

Hayden: yup

-

The first game as a Centaur sees Ilya in the family section of the Canadian Tire Centre. He gave Shane a good luck kiss before they left the apartment and Shane said he was excited to play. The pre-game show starts and it’s basically a Hollander appreciation night. He wonders if they told Shane this was happening?

Ilya looks around the arena and sees a depressing amount of blue. Ottawa is a three-way split between Montreal fans, Ottawa fans, and Toronto fans, with Ottawa fans being the minority. The Toronto fans made it out in droves tonight, but Ilya does see some black and red pockets and signs welcoming Hollander.

The names are called out, and they save Shane for last even though he’s the Alternate Captain. He gets a huge applause, even from the Toronto fans. They recognize what a big moment this is, at least. Shane does a lap around his zone, waving at the fans, and Ilya thinks he’s looking for him. Sure enough, on the second lap, Shane’s eyes catch his and he breaks into his real smile for just a moment.

Cassie is sitting in front of him with some of the other WAGs Ilya met at Bood’s BBQ. He doesn’t see Lisa, though.

“Ilya! How are you? Do you remember the girls? Selena Chouinard, Jenna Boyle, and Yvonne LaPointe,” Cassie re-introduces them.

“Is good to see everyone again,” Ilya replies with a smile. Before they can chat more, the announcer is asking everyone who can to please stand for the national anthem. A pair of young women hurry to their seats next to Ilya just before O Canada starts. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the one closest to him give him a double take then nudge her friend who leans over not so subtly before they devolve into giggles.

They take their seats as Shane takes the starting face off to a huge applause.

“He’s so hot, I can’t believe he came to Ottawa!” One of the girls says.

“I know, right! Wonder where he lives? Would be a shame to run into him and have him fall in love with me.”

Ilya twitches but says nothing. Dallas Kent approaches center ice and says something to Shane. The jumbotron doesn’t pick it up around Kent’s mouthguard, but Shane doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even look at him. The puck drops, Hollander wins the faceoff, and they’re off.

Hollander passes to Boodram, who passes back to Shane, who dekes around a defenseman and pretends to take a shot on net but passes to Boodram who finds the opening and sends the puck top shelf. Ilya, the WAGs, and the ladies next to him all jump to their feet to cheer. A goal in the first minute of the game!

Shane, Bood, and Tanner trade off with the second line. The Guardians are thrown off. They expected an easy win, even with Hollander on the team. The second faceoff goes to LaPointe and there’s a lot of back and forth. Toronto is playing a physical game, but Ottawa isn’t holding back either. By the end of the first period, the score remains 1-0 for the Centaurs.

During the intermission, Ilya asks the wives about their jobs and learns that most of them used to work for the federal government but quit once their husbands made enough money.

“Now, I help with charity fundraising for CHEO, that’s the hospital that Lisa works at,” Yvonne says.

“My hands are full with two boys in grades 1 and 3,” Jenna supplies.

Selena volunteers at the Ottawa Human Society and actively fosters pets until they find their forever home.

“And I’m still working for the government. Zane needs to put a ring on this finger before I’ll feel comfortable enough to leave!” Cassie laments, holding out her empty left hand.

“How long have you been together?”

“Two years, but we’ve known each other longer. I finally had the guts to ask him out on a date, and we’ve been together ever since!”

“He has beautiful Cassie in his life, and he does not ask you out on date? And now he does not even get you a ring. I will speak with him. This is travesty!” Ilya plays, and Cassie laughs.

“Please do! I stopped being subtle three months ago when I started sending him pictures of rings I like.”

“What about you? Handsome man like you must have someone special,” Jenna teases.

“There is someone special. Still kind of new… but…”

“But?” Selena prompts.

Ilya doesn’t have a group of female friends to call upon. Svetlana would be useless with the question bouncing around his head. Maybe he can ask the WAGs?

“Well. How early is too early to say…” Ilya blushes, which is not something he does, of course, so he must be coming down with a fever. He does feel warmer all of a sudden.

“To say “I love you”?” Jenna guesses in a soft voice. Ilya nods.

“Well, I said it to Patrick after three months. I think it took him by surprise, so maybe three months was too early. But I knew from our second date that he was the one,” Jenna says with a shrug.

“Matt said it to me first around the five-month mark, I think? It didn’t feel too soon,” Selena offers.

“I had to wait a YEAR for Cory to finally say it. I made a rule that I wouldn’t say it first. I had a bad breakup with an ex and swore off men. But then LaPointe had to go and be all adorable and sweet,” Yvonne recounts.

“Zane and I said it after four months and I moved in after eight months. When you know, you know! I don’t think there’s a good rule for when you can say it.”

“This is good, thank you, ladies.”

“Anytime! So, tell us about your person,” Cassie says, being careful to use gender neutral terminology, Ilya notices.

“I always say my perfect person would be my best friend who I have amazing sex with,” Ilya says with a grin and laughs when he’s pelted with popcorn.

“I am being attacked for speaking my truth!” Ilya laughs, plucking some of the popcorn that landed on his lap and tossing them in his mouth.

“And is that what you found?” Yvonne asks.

“Yes. Yes, it is.”

“Then you need to tell them,” Cassie says.

-

Shane: Kent has ramped up the slurs. The rest of his team are in on it too.
Shane: Ottawa has been good, no one’s questioned me anyway. Coach wants us to shut them up.

Ilya, 👻 P.A.: fuckers
Ilya, 👻 P.A.: give them hell
Ilya, 👻 P.A.: and tell Bood to propose to Cassie already

Shane: ??

“Hey, Bood, my Personal Assistant wants me to tell you to propose to Cassie already,” Shane says, reading the text out loud in the locker room before they head out to the tunnel. The rest of the Centaurs laugh and Bood smiles.

“Don’t tell anyone, but there’s already a plan in place. My girl just needs to be patient a little while longer!”

They hit the ice for the second period and of course Dallas fucking Kent is taking the first faceoff.

“Is your boyfriend here? Going to suck his dick later like the cocksucker you are?” Kent says in a low enough voice that the ref can’t hear it.

It doesn’t even make sense to Shane how that would be an insult to begin with. Like, yes, his boyfriend is here, and yes, he probably will suck his dick later. Does Kent not go down on his sexual partners?

“Why, Kent, are you offering yourself up?” Shane replies in just as low a voice and then winks at him. The puck drops and Shane scoops it up and passes to Dillon before Kent has recovered enough to chase after him.

On the third body check from Kent, which always includes a slur, Shane decides to chirp back again.

“You must really want me; you keep touching me.”

“Fuck you, faggot!” Kent hollers as they battle for the puck.

“Gunna buy me dinner first?”

Shane finally tips the puck away from the boards and Bood is there to grab it. Shane skates hard around the back of the net to get in position, feeling Kent on his heels.

Bood snaps the puck to him and Shane tips it in the net before Kent crashes into him. Shane hits the ice, but his padding and helmet do their job, even if he is a little winded. Kent, on the other hand, is red-faced and throws a punch that mainly lands on padding. Shane wants the Guardians penalty and throws him another wink with a smile instead of a punch. Kent pulls his arm back, muttering “fucker”, but Boodram is right there and throws him back before he can deliver the punch. Shane stands and the ref gives Kent a five-minute major.

Back on the bench, Bood asks what happened.

“I goaded him into taking a penalty, and now we’re on a powerplay and up two nothing.”

“Fuck yeah, Hollander! Let’s hope our second line can make some magic happen.”

They didn’t, but soon enough Shane is back on the ice while Kent is still in the penalty box. Dillon misses a pass which forces them back to their zone, but Shane intercepts a shaky pass from the Guardians’ Troy Barrett and takes off down the ice. The feeling of a breakaway never gets old. Shane’s focus narrows to the puck, the net, and the goalie. It’s all about the misdirection. Shane lets his eyes scope out the top left corner of the net even though his body is facing center. The goalie assumes he’ll go top left. Most players project where they will be shooting. Shane is not most players. He fakes the top shelf shot and goes low on the right instead. The goalie is already moving in the wrong direction by the time he realizes what happened. The siren goes off.

3-0

-

The last period is brutal to watch if you’re a Guardians fan. They keep taking penalties and none of them can get past Hayes. The only positive thing you can say about their gameplay is their defense finally decided to do their job blocking the lanes. The Centaurs don’t score again but neither does Toronto. Shane’s first game with the Centaurs and it’s a decisive win against the higher ranked team. Ilya is bursting with pride and has to try really hard to contain himself.

“Holy shit! Two goals and an assist. Hollander doesn’t do anything half-ass, does he!” Jenna yells out among the cheering crowd. Boodram gets the third star, Hayes gets the second, and Shane gets the first star.

“Okay ladies, let’s go to the family room! Ilya, are you coming, too?” Cassie asks in a way that sounds like an invitation.

“Yes, please lead the way.”

As they wait for the guys to be done their showers, Ilya watches the press conference on the television in the room.

Shane stands in the hallway, sweat dripping down his forehead, CCM white shirt on display.

“Hollander! What do you have to say to your fans in Montreal now that you’re officially an Ottawa Centaur?”

Shane looks directly into the camera.

“Thank you for your years of support and belief in me and the Metros. Trades happen, and I’m so glad to be on a team only two hours away from the beautiful city that welcomed me with open arms six years ago. To my new Ottawa fans, thank you for your excitement and energy. I’ve felt very welcomed here and I can’t wait to see what else we can do.”

“Tell us about the game tonight. We have lip readers trying to figure out what Kent was saying to you. Care to share with the class?”

“Trying to get under another player’s skin is a common tactic in this game. What Kent failed to realize is that they don’t bother me. I know it’s a strategy, so I ignore it.”

“But what did he say?” The same reporter follows up.

“You can ask Kent.”

“Hollander, over here! What can you tell us about the difference between the Ottawa and Montreal teams?”

“I’ve only been with Ottawa for a week, so I’m not sure I can answer that yet. The team has been great so far and I can’t wait to work with them even more.”

“How does it feel not to be the Captain anymore?”

“It’s an honour to be an Alternate Captain to Zane Boodram. Bood is a great guy, and he’s made a cohesive team.”

“Thanks everyone, let’s let Shane take a shower now!”

“He handled that well,” Cassie says, standing next to him.

“He did,” Ilya says with maybe too much pride in his voice. Cassie looks over at him with a piercing gaze.

Shane crashes into their bed and rolls over onto his back, making grabby hands at Ilya. Ilya smirks and crawls on top of him.

“We won.”

“You did.”

“I liked seeing you in the crowd.”

“I liked being in the crowd. The WAGs are fun. Almost felt like one,” Ilya says, nuzzling their noses together.

“You technically are one! Though I guess they’ll need to change the acronym once they find out.”

“Hmmmm... the Cent-whores?” Ilya proposes and Shane laughs.

“Maybe don’t pitch that one. I’m sure “Spouses and Partners” would work fine. SAPs.”

“Boring!”

“You like my boring,” Shane says with a soft smile.

Now’s the time! Say it. It is three words. Perfect set-up.

“I –” Ilya starts, heart hammering, but is interrupted by Shane’s phone ringing. He knows there’s only a few people that can get through Shane’s Do Not Disturb, so he rolls off to give Shane a chance to answer it.

“Hayd! Is everything okay?”

“No.”

Chapter End Notes

In my version of the MLH, goalies are allowed to be Alternate Captains.

 

Follow me on Threads for updates!
@stephsnerdkingdom

What do we think the bad news is??

Chapter 20: Control

Chapter Summary

Previously on P.A. Wanted: Shane and Ilya move in together, Shane plays his first game as a Centaur, and Hayden calls with news.

In today's episode: Ilya and friends deal with the news and Shane makes a decision.

Chapter Notes

Chapter count updated! I *think* it will wrap up in two more chapters...

**Edit**: I don't know how I forgot that Nick's wife has a name in the books, but anyway I've updated references of "Lilianne" to "Serena"!

“No.”

“What happened? Is Jackie okay? The kids?” Shane asks, sitting up in bed while Ilya is on his side, raised up on his elbow, looking concerned.

“Family’s fine! It’s Comeau. Tomorrow there’s an article coming out. He was fucking bragging about it, Shane.”

“Bragging about what?” Shane asks, sharing a look of concern with Ilya (who could hear everything). Hayden sighs.

“Remember a while ago, that reporter told you about a “source” that said you were seeing someone, and then the All-Stars article said there was a “source” saying you’re gay?”

“Yes,” Shane says slowly, panic rising. Ilya sits up fully now and places a hand on his thigh, grounding him, while the other rubs the back of his neck.

“There’s another article. This time Comeau says the story won’t get buried. He says he told the reporter he had proof, Shane, though he wouldn’t say what it was. All he said was, “Hollywood’s days in the MLH are numbered, fucking – then he said the other f-word – cocksucker.”

Shane couldn’t even bring himself to say, “Swear Jar.”

“Oh,” is all he manages to spit out. He can feel the spiral coming now. Heart rate elevating, shallow breathing, vision tunneling, and muscles tensing.

“Is Rozanov with you?” Hayden asks.

“Yes, I am here,” Ilya responds, gently taking the phone from Shane’s hand.

“What did the rest of the team have to say?” Ilya probes.

“Me and JJ kept our mouths shut, and the rookies didn’t join in the discussion either. But the rest… the rest are excited to find out more and are ready to believe anything.”

“Did he mention when exactly this stupid article will be posted?”

“He said to watch the newsfeeds in the morning, so I assume it will be posted very early.”

“Fuck. Okay. Thank you, Pike. I will coordinate a plan. Keep your phone with you and tell JJ to be ready as well. We will need to bury this one, too.”

“Absolutely, anything you need. I’m here for you, Shane,” Hayden adds for his benefit. They hang up and Shane can now spiral with sounds. His shallow breath turns into gasps, and not the fun kinds that Ilya can bring out of him.

“It’s just… so… stupid,” Shane spits out between breaths with Ilya climbing onto his lap like a weighted blanket.

“Why does it… have to be… a scandal? Why can’t… I just… love you…” Shane doesn’t realize what he said out loud at first.

“You… love me?” Ilya says, hands trembling as they hold Shane’s jaw. Oh fuck, did he just ruin everything? He didn’t mean to say it like this. He had a plan! Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“I mean…” I mean, what? What else could he mean? How can he save this?

“I love you, too, Shane,” Ilya says with tears gathering along his lash line.

The tsunami of relief and peace that instantly flood his body leaves him almost limp. Now the elevated heart rate is excited instead of anxious. The shallow breathing is more akin to arousal, and his vision is focused completely on Ilya’s blue-green eyes.

“Oh my god, I love you so much,” Shane squeezes Ilya against his body and kisses his beautiful curls.

“Ya tebya lyublyu,” Ilya repeats into his neck, his cheek, his lips, kissing him all the while and holding him just as tight.

“I tried to tell you, just before phone call. And then you had to go and say it first!” Ilya teases.

“We’re you really?” Shane asks in awe.

“Really really,” he responds, mimicking Shane from yesterday.

“You’re braver than I am. My plan was to wait until your birthday,” Shane admits, rubbing up and down Ilya’s biceps.

“Is months away!”

“I was worried it would be too soon and scare you off!”

“I was worried, too. Had chat with WAGs at the game and they convinced me is never too early.”

Shane smiles, loving how integrated Ilya is. They kiss, slow at first. Shane relishes the feeling of Ilya laying along his entire body, crushing him into the mattress, with his tongue deep in Shane’s mouth. He’s not sure where Ilya ends and Shane begins, and he doesn’t care to find out. He would stay in this moment forever.

Ilya only moves to remove both of their shirts and pants before laying back down on top of Shane, slowly grinding into each other while their lips get swollen, having lost track of time for how long they’ve been kissing. They are both hard and enjoying the friction, letting the anticipation build until they are almost wrecked.

Then Ilya’s phone rings.

“Fuck, no, don’t answer it, please, don’t stop,” Shane begs, not wanting to burst this perfect bubble of time. Ilya looks like he’s contemplating letting it go to voicemail, but he makes the unfortunate mistake of looking at the caller ID.

“Shit. Is your mother,” Ilya grimaces and Shane’s head sinks into the pillow in despair.

-

Ilya swings himself off Shane and sits at the edge of the bed. He can’t talk to Shane’s mother while straddling Shane and feeling his hard cock. That’s just too weird.

“Rozanov,” he answers.

“Hayden just called, I’ve messaged Farah, we need to make a game plan.”

Ilya looks over to Shane who’s listening to the conversation but is not having a panic attack this time. He looks sexually frustrated but emotionally safe.

“Yes, we need to bury the story, so it does not gain traction. I will call Harris Drover next; he will have good plan for this.”

“Great idea. In the meantime, Farah and I will draft a few statements in case we need to say something this time.”

“Good.”

There’s a pause on the line, and then, “How is he?”

Sometimes the manager disappears and the mom comes to the surface.

“He is okay now. Calmer,” Ilya says as he watches Shane smile softly at him.

“Can I talk to him?”

Shane evidently heard the question and shook his head.

“Ah, no, sorry, he is in the shower,” Ilya hates lying to Shane’s mother, but he loves Shane more.

“Okay. Well, tell him we’re on it and that we loved the seats he got us for tonight’s game! And we’ll be in touch later tonight with updates.”

“Yes. Will do. Talk later,” Ilya says and hangs up. Shane sighs.

“Tonight is going to be tough for me,” Shane says, playfully over-dramatic. Which he finds odd, since it’s a reasonable way to feel when impending doom might strike the next day.

“I have to watch you be very good at your job and I can’t have sex with you until it’s over. Do you know how hot you are when you’re working?” Shane gushes.

“What happened to the Shane Hollander who is worried about his career in the MLH?” Ilya smiles back at him, intrigued.

“He disappeared after a certain someone said he loved him. It doesn’t feel so scary, now,” Shane admits. Ilya pounces on him, kissing him everywhere.

“You cannot say romantic things like this when I have to worrrrrk,” Ilya complains into Shane’s neck. Unfortunately for Ilya, this seems to have given Shane an idea. Shane wiggles out from underneath him and has Ilya sit at the edge of the bed again, and then he sinks down to his knees between his legs.

“Shane, we don’t have time, I need to call Harris!” Ilya says using what remains of his self-discipline.

“Of course you do. You’re going to work. And I’m going to keep you warm. I’m good at keeping you warm, right?” Shane, the menace, says.

“Fuck.”

All self-control disappears when Shane lowers Ilya’s boxers and slips half of his cock into his mouth in one go. Then he stays still like the good cockwarmer he is. Ilya is so fucked. God, he loves this man.

“This is act of terrorism. You can expect payback one day,” Ilya says, stroking Shane’s hair. Shane hums contentedly.

Ilya takes a deep, centering breath, and finds Harris Drover’s contact in his phone.

“Ilya? Is everything okay?” Harris asks in lieu of a greeting.

“Ah, no. We need to make a plan.”

-

Ilya moves a pillow to the floor so Shane can kneel on it. He takes the duvet off the bed and drapes it over Shane’s shoulders to keep him warm. An exchange of warmth. Shane sinks into his fog, feeling nothing but the warm blanket, soft pillow, strong legs he’s wrapped his arounds around, the heavy dick on his tongue, and Ilya’s large hand in his hair.

He tries not to lick or suck too much, this isn’t a blow job after all, but it’s quite difficult not to. He fails sometimes, when the saliva in his mouth threatens to drip down his chin. He has to suck a bit, then, to not make a mess. He closes his eyes, which is a mistake. Suddenly the fact that he played a hockey game this evening has finally hit and he’s very tired. Tired and warm. Warm and comfortable. Comfortable and loved. Loved! He sinks deeper.

-

“Okay, so to recap. We’re going to post the Introduction video earlier than planned and spam his @ and hashtag so it’s the first thing to come up when googled. Then I’m going to post the pictures I took so far of Shane with the team. Everyone looks happy in them so it will contradict whatever lies Comeau comes up with about players being uncomfortable with him. Then we’ll do a puppy interview with him and Bood, I’m sure I can throw something together for tomorrow if you can find me the puppies.”

“Yes, I will get the puppies, Shane Hollander Brand can pay for it if breeders need incentive for such short notice.”

“No need for that, we have a fund for random emergencies, and if anything qualifies for it, it’s this!”

“Okay. I will touch base with Yuna and Farah and see where statements are at.”

“And I’ll draft an Ottawa Centaurs statement in case we need it. Send me what they come up with to make sure we’re all telling the same message.”

They plan to touch base in two hours. It’s going to be a long night, so Ilya contemplates making himself a coffee. He’s been combing through Shane’s hair absentmindedly the entire time and thinks Shane might have fallen asleep, or something close to it. He’s still holding himself up, but his breathing is slow and deep, and his eyes are moving behind his closed eyelids. Every now and then Shane sucks a little bit, and the pleasure is both too little and too much. He decides he really does need a coffee, and Shane has been warming him for ten minutes already. His jaw must be getting sore. Without specifically trying to wake him, Ilya holds his head and moves his hips in and out very slowly. Shane moans but still seems out of it. Ilya goes a little bit deeper and a little bit faster. Shane flutters his eyes open and it takes him a second to get his bearings. When he does, he hums louder and his eyes look desperate. Ilya stands up, still holding Shane’s beautiful head steady in his hands, and thrusts gently into his mouth.

Shane’s hand rubs himself over the boxers he’s still wearing while the other holds on to Ilya’s hip as it never stops moving. He’s staring up at Ilya, who is mesmerized by Shane’s freckles, his long lashes, and his pretty pink wet mouth.

Ilya feels the tightness in his lower abdomen, signaling the start of an orgasm, then Shane moans in pleasure, the sound muffled by Ilya’s cock, but he can feel the vibrations through his core. Shane is coming in his boxers, mainly at the feeling of Ilya in his mouth, and Ilya can’t handle it anymore and lets his own orgasm take over.

“Fuck, Shane,” he moans as his release coats Shane’s mouth and throat. Shane greedily swallows and licks, eyes clouded and soft. Ilya slides his cock out and sits back down, massaging Shane’s jaw for a moment.

“Sweetheart, you are my best friend, and we have the hottest sex ever. I love you,” Ilya murmurs before leaning down and kissing him. Shane makes a sound like a purr as he nuzzles his face. He is lost to subspace for the moment, so Ilya picks him up, duvet and all, and gently places him back on the bed. He removes Shane’s wet boxers, gets a wet towel and cleans him up gently. He makes a carafe of coffee to keep him going and brings his mug to bed. Ilya stretches out, back against the headboard, and tucks Shane into his side to fall asleep for real while Ilya resumes combing through Shane’s hair with his fingers.

From this most comfortable position, Ilya fires off email after email looking for puppies.

At 1am, the Introduction video goes up on the Centaurs main account, and Shane’s social media page reposts it, as does Boodram’s and Hayes’. In the morning, they’ll get the rest of the Centaurs to do the same. At 3am, the Centaurs account teases an upcoming Live Stream with the Captain and Alternate Captain… with adoptable dogs!

Ilya remembered the WAG group and that one of them volunteers with the Ottawa Humane Society. It may not be puppies, but it will be a very good look and will also help these dogs find their new homes. Win-win. Ilya only had to call Chouinard and Selena twenty times each before Nick finally picked up, ready to tear this unknown number a new one. He changed his tune once he realized what was going on, reposted the Introduction video, and then put Selena on the phone to discuss logistics. Selena got on the phone with the Manager of the OHS and explained part of the situation, leaving out the fact that it’s to bury a story about Shane Hollander. The manager was apparently irritated at being woken up for this for five seconds until she realized the request was to put her rescue dogs in front of a large audience with two very good-looking hockey players. They coordinated and agreed to bring the dogs to the arena for 11:30am.

The statements were all drafted and approved by everyone (except Shane who was sleeping peacefully on him).

Ilya checked Shane’s phone as well to make sure he didn’t miss any updates in case Pike texted Shane instead of him. He sees messages from JJ and Rose, instead.

JJ, #16: you know what else comeau said when he thought I couldn’t fucking hear him?
JJ, #16: “that’s what you get for having two diversity hires”
JJ, #16: you get three fucking cups that’s what you fucking get calisse
JJ, #16: rose says hi and wants to help, too. She reposted the intro video. But she said if you need anything else, send her a message.
JJ, #16: I hope you’re asleep. You don’t deserve the shit they’ve been pulling. You’re the fucking best.

Rose (BFF 🌹😇😈) Landry: I love you
Rose (BFF 🌹😇😈) Landry: I’m here for you, whatever you need

Ilya’s brain just dropped a wonderful idea. He calls Harris then messages Rose.

Ilya: It’s Ilya. I have an idea. Are you able to come to Ottawa for noon for one hour?

Rose Landry: I will make it work. What do you need?

-

Shane wakes up the next morning and takes stock of his state of mind.

The good: Ilya loves him. He has people that will work all night to support him.

The bad: Comeau (and associates) is trying to kick him out of the league for some reason by telling the world that Shane is gay. Being outed against his will would have made him terrified this time yesterday. Today it fills him with fury.

Because Ilya loves him. Ilya, who’s currently snoring softly next to him, laptop dead on his lap and phone in hand. His head is tipped back against the headboard. He’s so perfect.

Shane checks the time and is shocked to learn it’s already 8am. He hasn’t slept in like this since last summer at the cottage. He slides out of bed, closes the laptop and plugs it in in the kitchen. He takes Ilya’s phone (also dead) and plugs it in.

He’s afraid to go through the hundreds of notifications on his phone so he calls his mother instead. His dad answers.

“Hey kiddo! Great game last night.”

“Hey, thanks! Is mom still asleep?”

“Yep, I think she only fell asleep around 6.”

“Shit. Ilya must be the same. He’s still asleep, too. I feel bad, I should have stayed up to help with this whole shit show,” Shane admits.

“I’m glad you didn’t have to deal with it. You played hockey and your body and mind must have been exhausted. This is why you pay people to worry for you! They earned their paycheck last night, that’s for sure,” his dad reassures him.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. I’ll try to think of it that way. And I won’t complain about whatever nonsense they came up with. So… did the article come out? Did you read it?”

“It did, and I did, but I did have to look for it. It’s not trending yet,” David says.

“Can you send it to me?”

“Sure, just remember the more we click the link the more traction it gets and the more the algorithm will push it to others,” his father, his almost-retired father who barely knows what YouTube is, explains to Shane.

“Who are you and what did you do with my dad?” Shane jokes.

“There was an article in the New Yorker!”

Shane laughs. Of course there was.

He says goodbye to his father and opens the article.

SHANE HOLLANDER, FORMER METROS CAPTAIN, CONFIRMED GAY
by Julian Berke, posted 6:00am EDT

Previously our publication shared an anonymous source claiming that the former Metros Captain, and current Centaurs Alternate Captain, is gay. A second and third source have now come forward to corroborate the claim. We can disclose that all three sources have played with Hollander. They describe a man that follows Hollander everywhere, parading as a “personal assistant”. This man, Ilya Rozanov, is a Russian native and is here on a work visa. Homosexuality is not safe in Russia; has this man manipulated Hollander to help him become a Canadian Citizen? A “Russian Husband”, perhaps? Still not convinced? our photographers captured Hollander and Rozanov. Check out the pictures and let us know in the comments what you think!

HollandersBabe: the pics are just two guys standing next to each other?
Hockey4Lyfe: still not naming the “sources”?
Guest: More garbage from Julian Berke. Seriously, how is this guy still getting paid?
HockeyGuy78: this sucks, I used to like Hollander!
JulianBerkeWriter: I cannot reveal the names of the sources, but they are unimpeachable!
Pucklander: No one wants Hollander to be gay more than me, but those pictures prove literally nothing. Oh no! They LAUGHED together! Blasphemy!

Shane’s fury rises to rage. They’re bringing Ilya into this? Abso-fucking-lutely not. He calls Harris.

If the conversation was recorded by a court stenographer, it would have looked like this:

Harris: Hollander! I assume you’ve read the article? [loud yawn]

Shane: Yes. Tell me what we’re doing before I burn Centre Bell to the ground.

Harris: Ilya hasn’t told you?

Shane: I let him sleep. I mean. Oh, fuck it, you already figured it out, right.

Harris: I’m Schrödinger’s Social Media Manager. I both know and don’t know. Am I using that right?

Shane: No idea. I’m gay. I’m with Ilya. But he is my Personal Assistant. That’s how we met.

Harris: Awesome. I’m totally shocked and had no idea blah blah blah thank you for telling me blah blah blah. Okay, at noon you and Boodram are doing an interview and taking questions from Rose Landry while playing with dogs from the Ottawa Humane Society.

Harris: Shane?

Harris: Still with me?

Shane: Uhh, ya. That actually… sounds fun?

Harris: Also, it’s a Live Stream.

Shane: It’s a what now.

Harris: Yep. You’re used to this; you do this all the time after games! Same thing, just with dogs and Rose Landry who is apparently your best friend who you NEED TO INTRODUCE ME TO. This is, like, gay code.

Shane: [laughs] I will introduce you. But back off, she’s my superstar actress best friend.

Harris: I don’t get a superstar best friend OR the only gay MLH player? What sins did I commit in another life…

Shane: I don’t think I’m the only one. I don’t know of anyone else, mind you, but I find it hard to believe. I think we’re all just scared. Or, I was, until last night.

Harris: Are you saying… you want to come out? Because if that’s the case we need to adjust our statements ASAP.

Shane: Maybe, but not to the whole world yet. Might start with the Centaurs. I don’t want to lie to my new team. I was nervous at first because I don’t know them all super well.

Harris: What changed? Kicking ass in your first game?

Shane: No, well, sure, that helped! But no… Ilya and I… Last night I told him I love him, and he said it back.

Harris: That’s amazing!

Shane: Yeah.

Harris: Okay. When do you want to tell the Centaurs? Want to start with Wiebe, first? He will be good with it, I promise.

Shane: That’s probably a good idea. I should do that today.

And that’s how an hour later, Coach Wiebe is buzzing the intercom to be let up to Shane’s apartment. Ilya is still asleep, though Shane will have to wake him up soon. He closes the bedroom door and waits in the kitchen with fresh coffee brewed until the door knocks.

“Hi Coach, come on in.”

“Shoes off?”

“Yes, please. What do you take in your coffee?”

“Two sugars and some cream if you have it, milk if you don’t,” Wiebe rattles off as he removes his shoes and hangs his coat on the rack.

He takes a seat at the kitchen island while Shane pours the coffee.

“I read the article. Before you say anything, I need you to know that the Centaurs stand behind you. Whether the article is true or not.”

Shane takes a deep breath and nods.

“I’m gay. And Ilya is both my boyfriend and personal assistant,” Shane says, watching Wiebe for any signs of discomfort.

“Thank you for sharing. And to assure you that I mean what I say when I say we support you, I want you to know that I am bisexual.”

Shane chokes on his coffee and Wiebe snorts.

“You are?”

“Yep. My wife knows, she’s known all-along. I’m very in love with her, but before that I was in love with another player back when I played. It did not end well, but that’s a sad story for beer, not coffee. All this to say, the Centaurs really do have your back, Shane. You can come out or not, totally up to you, and we’ll support whatever narrative you need to be safe.”

Shane did not see this coming. Ottawa truly is the polar opposite of Montreal. How did he get so lucky?

“Thank you for telling me. I want to tell the other Centaurs about me. Do they know about you?”

“No, they don’t. On staff, only Harris knows. I’d love to tell them all, especially to stand with you to show my support, but with the league the way it is and my two young kids… I need to put their safety first. Once they’re old enough, I won’t hide it. So, for now, I would ask you to be discreet. You can tell your boyfriend, of course.”

“That makes sense. I need to tell them sooner rather than later, especially with this stupid article. Hopefully we’re able to bury it again, but they’re going to keep trying until it finally gains traction.”

“Who’s they? Who are their sources?”

“I don’t know the full extent, but from what I’ve pieced together, Comeau and Drapeau have been trying to get me kicked out of the league for a while now. They teamed up with Berke from New Jersey and Dallas Kent. Berke got his cousin to write both articles. Kent started the rumour of me being gay with my personal assistant at All-Stars. He has no idea he’s actually right, of course.”

“A broken clock is right twice a day, I guess. Harris caught me up to speed on the interview today, but I want to be there when you tell the team. Just let me know when that is.”

“It should probably be today. Mandatory practice at 10am, think I should wait until after the practice, or do it before?”

“Before. Otherwise, you’ll be thinking about it the entire time and I need you focused.”

Shane nods and they sip their coffee when they hear Ilya’s alarm go off.

“I better head out; let you get ready. I’ll see you in the locker room at 10am.”

“Thanks again, Coach.”

Wiebe takes off while Ilya is in the shower. Shane gets his bag ready and drinks his breakfast smoothie.

“Good morning, sweetheart. How are you feeling?” Ilya, the man who stayed up all night to fix this crazy mess, asks him when he enters the kitchen.

“I’m really good, all thanks to you,” Shane says, wrapping Ilya in his arms. Ilya’s eyes bounce between Shane’s trying to decipher his bizarrely good mood.

“What happened while I was asleep for two seconds?”

“I read the article, called Harris, spoke to Wiebe, and love you very much,” Shane says then kisses him good morning. Ilya still looks perplexed but also like he has a thousand things in his brain. Shane let’s go, takes a step back, and asks, “Okay Rozanov, what’s my schedule for today?”

Without missing a beat, Ilya jumps in.

“Mandatory practice at 10am, then you will have a live interview with Boodram hosted by Rose Landry. You both are excused from tape review for this. Then tonight your parents are coming over for dinner and planning.”

“Perfect. At the 10am practice, I’m coming out to the team and I want you there.”

-

His Shane. His perfect, brave, confident Shane. Ilya steps forward to close the gap and crashes his lips against Shane’s, one hand on his jaw to tilt him just so, the other on his back pushing him into Ilya’s chest. He opens his mouth and Shane follows, their tongues dancing together. Ilya finds he’s shaking slightly. Lack of sleep? Excitement? Happiness? All of the above?

Shane pulls his lips back just enough to ask him a stupid question.

“Can I tell them about us?”

Ilya kisses him gently then says, almost against his lips, “Of course you will. I cannot have any closeted players or staff thinking they have a chance with you. You are mine, Hollander.”

Shane smiles wide, their kiss awkward, and Ilya realizes he also has a huge smile on his face. They giggle and Ilya wraps both hands on either side of Shane’s beautiful, freckled face. Ilya’s thumbs rub lightly against his cheekbones.

“Ya tebya lyublyu,” Ilya says, looking into Shane’s deep brown eyes.

“Je t’aime,” Shane responds with a cute grin. Ilya may not speak French, but he knows what that means and leans in to give him one last kiss before they have to pack up and go.

-

Shane texts Bood about his plan to come out before practice starts and he gives him a thumbs up and promises he and Hayes will be there early.

Sure enough, when Shane and Ilya enter the locker room, Boodram and Hayes are already there, along with a couple eager rookies. Ilya sits on the bench while Shane gets ready, and after fifteen minutes of Shane being a menace and torturing Ilya with his half-dressed state (he’s very much hoping Ilya will punish him later), the entire team is present and accounted for.

Shane finishes dressing then nods to Boodram, who does the two fingers in the mouth super loud whistle thing to get everyone’s attention. Wiebe and Harris enter as if they were just outside waiting for the cue.

All heads turn to Boodram.

“Centaurs, you are all directed to repost the official Hollander Introduction Video. Like. Right now. Grab your phones, go to Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook, and share, repost, whatever.”

There’s a flurry of movement as the guys find their phones. While they are opening social media, Boodram says, “You may or may not see an article about Hollander written by Julian Berke in your feeds. You are to ignore it and not comment on it. Mr. Berke is talking to hockey players that have it out for our Hollander, and we’re going to have his back, right?”

Shane is moved by the immediate chorus of “fuck yeah” and “we got you Hollzy”.

“And now Hollander would like to say something to you all.”

Eyes shift to Shane, who takes a deep steadying breath. This is it. No going back from here. Once he says it in this room, there’s only one way forward. He knows he can do this, especially with Ilya by his side. He reaches for Ilya’s hand, who grabs it and immediately stands up next to him. Shane looks back at the team.

“I’m gay. Rozanov is my Personal Assistant, but he’s also my boyfriend.”

Ilya’s hand squeezes his. The team nods along, no one looks disgusted, some look surprised, but not unpleasantly.

“Awww too bad, Harris!” Chouinard calls out, breaking whatever tension there might have been.

“I know, right!” Harris bellows out. “I can’t catch a break!”

More laughter, and then Wiebe coughs to get everyone’s attention.

“I told Hollander this morning that the team has his back. Nothing changes, he’s one of us, and we’ll do whatever we have to to keep him safe.”

“Thanks everyone. Before we hit the ice, if you have any questions for me, ask them now so they don’t distract you during practice,” Shane offers.

“Is this why you left Montreal?” Dillon asks.

“Partially. I knew I could never come out with them; the room was toxic for that kind of stuff. I was tired of being on alert all the time.”

“Who’s out to get you?” One of the rookies, Young, asks.

“So far as I know, Comeau and Drapeau from Montreal, Kent from Toronto, and Berke from New Jersey.”

“But, why?” Boyle asks.

“I don’t know. Berke was traded away which is how Montreal got the first draft pick and chose me. He probably feels like I stole his spot. Comeau and Drapeau were always close with him and never warmed up to me. And Kent? He’s just an asshole, I guess. No idea how or why they roped him in.”

“Jesus, it’s like high school all over again,” LaPointe says.

“So… I’ll be honest, I read the article this morning before Bood told us not to just now. How did those guys find out about you?” Dillon asks and Shane snorts.

“They didn’t. They think being gay is the worst thing in the world, so they started a rumour not knowing it was true. And then Kent added to it by saying Ilya and I are together. Which, we are, but he doesn’t actually know that.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah. Let’s just say, if I do come out to the world, I won’t be calling up Julian Berke for that interview.” The guys chuckle and Boodram takes over.

“Okay, any other questions, you can ask him later. Time to hit the ice!”

What follows is one of the best practices Shane has ever been a part of. He gives Ilya a quick peck before heading out of the locker room and doesn’t realize the weight that’s been lifted until he’s back on the ice.

He’s faster, smoother, connecting every pass, laughing and joking, and has no nerves about offering constructive critiques on his teammates’ forms. His good mood inspires everyone else, and no one complains once it’s time for bag skates to end the session. Quite the opposite, everyone seems to be racing each other and after five minutes the whistle blows and they all feel as if they’ve skated a marathon in the best possible way.

-

Ilya meets Rose (and her bodyguard, a woman named Olena) at the airport to drive them to the arena.

“Ilyaaa! How are you! It’s so good to see you!” Rose says before giving him a tight hug at the arrivals gate. She’s wearing a hat, sunglasses, and baggy comfort clothes. Olena is dressed similar to make it look like they are best friends traveling together, he assumes.

“Very good. Is good to see you, too. Thank you for coming on short notice,” Ilya says after a friendly peck on the cheek.

“Of course! I am very invested in this, and I have to help my bestie!”

They make it to the car without Rose being recognized and a few minutes later are cruising down Hunt Club Road.

“Is JJ still your almost-boyfriend?”

“Nope! Locked that down before some puck bunny can distract him,” she jokes.

“More like he locked you down, you mean. How did he do it?”

“It was so sweet and cute! We were at a club with some of my colleagues after one of his games, he asked me to hit the dance floor with him, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. He kissed me then leaned into my ear and said, “Let me be your boyfriend”!”

She sighed at the pleasant memory.

“And you said yes.”

“Actually, I think I said, “fuck yes”, but that’s neither here nor there.”

They continue to chat all the way to the Canadian Tire Centre, and once they enter the interview room, Harris almost keeps his composure.

“Miss Rose! I mean, Miss Landry! Such an honour to have you here! Welcome!”

“Rose Landry, this is Harris Drover, the Social Media Manager for the Centaurs,” Ilya says, smiling at Harris’ obvious star-struckedness.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you!” Rose says, holding out her hand. Harris accepts it but his mouth stays open three beats too long. Rose takes it all in stride and kindness. He finally shakes out of it and gets back to business.

“Okay! Miss Landry, we have wardrobe and makeup on standby in the adjacent room. When you’re ready, you’ll sit here on this pillow, here are your interview cards. Before each question, you’ll introduce the dog up for adoption, that’s the info on the front of the card, the handler will bring them in for the three of you to interact with, and then you ask the question on the back of the card. Make sense?”

Ilya left them to it and went to collect Shane and Bood. He enters the locker room, and Shane is, sadly, already fully dressed. But he does smile at Ilya when he sees him.

“Our special guest is getting ready. If you and Boodram will follow me,” Ilya says, totally professionally.

“Are the dogs already here?” Bood asks.

“Yes, they arrived ten minutes before Rose did, apparently. I have not seen them yet.”

Ilya really hopes he doesn’t fall in love with every dog. If he could, he’d take them all home.

“How did practice go?” Ilya asks once they get there and Bood leaves them to chat with Harris.

“Amazing. I can’t even describe it. It felt like, I don’t know, like all this time I’ve been playing with a weighted vest. And today was the first time I practiced without it,” Shane says, no furrowed brow in sight.

“I am so happy for you, sweetheart,” Ilya says quietly, just for Shane to hear. Shane gives him a lovely smile in return.

Ilya watches the interview from behind the camera, of course. Rose, Shane, and Zane, all sit on their respective pillows on the floor. The live stream begins and they get through the intro, thank the Ottawa Humane Society, and then Rose introduces the first dog.

“Our first dog up for adoption is Nora! She’s a German Shepherd, 1 year and 4 months old, spayed. She loves running miles on empty trails, joining on long distance bike rides, or chasing her ball until the sun goes down! She is reactive to strangers and other dogs and she’s looking for a home with no young kids under 16. Let’s bring out Nora and hope she can warm up to us!”

Ilya watches a beautiful black and tan German shepherd walking nicely on a lead enter the room with the OHS volunteer. She’s unclipped from the leash and curiously roams. She avoids the boys at first but goes straight to Rose for inspection. She allows Rose to scratch under her chin. Shane and Bood must make interesting cooing noises because she tentatively sniffs in their direction.

“Okay boys, first question!”

Ilya is forced to watch his love interact with dogs over the next hour. He’s laughing, smiling, playfully shoving Bood, joking around with Rose, and cuddling adorable dogs of all ages. There was another German shepherd who was only 14 weeks old and Ilya may have blacked out seeing Shane hugging Roberta as she was trying to chew on his sleeve.

Harris keeps showing him the comments and the reactions from the Live Stream.

SO CUTE

I would die for ELI!!!

I wish I lived closer so I could adopt Frankie!!

TROOPER!!!!!!

OMG Boodram getting tackled by the bulldog 💀💀

HOLLANDER I WILL HAVE YOUR BABIES

Hollander and Boodram are so hot smfkajkerna

Cuties!!

<3 <3 <3

Love this!

I love Rose Landry!

Any room for a fourth??? 🥵🥵🥵

I don’t know whether to look at the adorable dogs or the sexy humans

Ilya takes issue with some of the comments but is glad that the diversion seems to be working. No one in the comments has mentioned the article, at any rate.

The allotted hour is reached, Rose thanks the OHS again and explains the adoption process, and the live streams ends. Unfortunately, Rose doesn’t have any time to hang out. Olena has already called a car service to bring them back to the airport to catch the next Montreal flight so she can make her night shoot. She kisses them all on the cheek, shakes Harris’ hand again, and is whisked away.

On the way home, Ilya drops Shane off then zips out to the grocery store for dinner ingredients. He’d love to do groceries together, but that’s not wise when there’s rumours they’re trying to suppress about them being together.

Back at home, Ilya marinates the chicken breasts while Shane watches game tape and takes notes. His parents arrive and David helps Ilya in the kitchen while Yuna analyzes the footage with Shane. Dinner is maybe twenty minutes away when he gets an alert. Before he can click on it, Harris is calling. Ilya accepts the call and gives David a look. Shane and Yuna have not noticed anything yet.

“Don’t open the link. I know you got the alert, too, right?” Harris says instead of a cheery hello.

“Yes. What is it?”

“The fuckers are doing their own live stream,” Harris says, and Ilya is certain Harris rolls his eyes while he says this.

“Not anonymous sources anymore?”

“It’s even more ridiculous! They have them in shadows and using voice changers. But for once the viewers aren’t falling for it. Everyone is calling that it’s Comeau and Drapeau.”

Ilya snorts at their stupidity.

“Yeah, except the pageantry is what’s making it go viral. They already have 30,000 viewers and it’s increasing.”

“And what exactly are they saying?”

At this point, Shane turns around and clocks that Ilya is on the phone. He heads to the kitchen to stand next to Ilya. Ilya turns on speakerphone.

“Spewing homophobic bullshit right now. Saying how their voices are being suppressed by the woke media. They didn’t feel safe in the locker room, which isn’t the place for gay people to begin with. They’re live streaming on Facebook and it’s been spammed to a lot of right and far-right groups. Unlike the article earlier, the comments on this are on their side.”

Yuna, who followed Shane into the kitchen, asks, “Is this the time to issue our joint statements?”

“Not yet, but we need to be ready just in case. If this live stream breaks containment, we’ll need to say something. We posted our live stream to our YouTube account and made Shorts and Reels of some of the moments. Those are doing better numbers than their live stream. If that changes, we’ll switch tactics. For now, I just wanted everyone to be aware of the situation, and not to open the link. We don’t want to feed them another view.”

David nods along as if in complete understanding and agreement.

“Thanks, Harris,” Shane says before they hang up.

David sets the table and everyone gets ready for dinner. Ilya messages Svetlana asking if she has any contacts that can help them understand why Shane not being a Metro anymore hasn’t stopped their vendetta against him. She promises to look into it.

-

Shane feels weird. He spent so long in the closet, and now he’s entered the house. He may not be fully outside yet, but the people closest to him know him and vowed to keep him safe. The front door doesn’t seem as scary anymore. In fact, it’s starting to look more like a screen door than the bank vault it used to be. What is this feeling? Hope? Is this what hope feels like?

At the same time, there is a group of people out to get him and are threatening to expose what they don’t even realize is the truth and they were stupid enough to bring his boyfriend into this. It’s not fear keeping him inside the house right now. Shane might be learning that he’s a petty bitch. He doesn’t want to leave the house because someone burned it down. He wants to leave of his own accord.

“Okay,” Shane says, interrupting whatever conversation was happening around the dinner table, “I have a plan. Kind of.”

Three of his favourite people look at him in anticipation.

“First we shut these fuckers up, and then I can come out to the league on my own terms.”

-

Ilya really needs Shane’s parents to leave so he can bend his sexy boyfriend over the couch.

Three hours later, a plan is hatched, Shane’s parents say goodbye, and Ilya is frantically undressing his boyfriend. Shane is smiling and pliant under his hands. Ilya, still fully dressed, drops to his knees to take his boyfriend’s hardening cock in his mouth. He focuses on the tip at first, then slowly adds more. His hands squeeze Shane’s cheeks apart and then he feels something bump against his hand. Shane hands him a bottle of lube he must have grabbed from the side table. He slathers his fingers in it and then slowly teases Shane’s rim while sucking him down to the base.

“Oh fuck, feels so good…” Shane moans and Ilya feels his fingers tighten against his curls. Ilya pushes a finger inside and keeps it fully in place while he continues to bob his head on Shane’s cock. Shane tries to move his hips to feel Ilya’s finger slide, but Ilya’s other hand holds him still. He whines in frustration and Ilya hums in satisfaction. Ilya does allow a second finger to slide inside, but again, doesn’t move them once settled.

“Ahhh, fuck you, fuck,” Shane’s breath hitches.

Ilya licks the tip of Shane’s cock, enjoying the sharp taste of precome, then kisses the tip before kissing down the length. He looks up at his beautiful boyfriend, taking in the blush on his cheeks, the desire in his eyes, and the wetness on his lips. He keeps watching him as he adds a third finger. Shane’s mouth opens wider, but no sound comes out, his eyebrows come together and his breath is shallow.

This time, Ilya doesn’t stay still. He rubs against the walls and smiles in satisfaction when Shane cries out at the feeling of his fingers touching his prostate. He keeps the motion slow and goes back to wet, open mouth kisses on Shane’s dick.

“Fuck me, god, fuck me please, I can’t…” Shane moans. Ilya’s own cock is hard as fuck and can’t be ignored any longer. He removes his fingers from Shane’s hole, stands up and tears his clothes off.

“Condom?”

“No, just fuck me,” Shane says right before throwing himself on Ilya and licking into his mouth. Ilya responds in kind and backs him up to the couch. Shane’s hand grasps Ilya’s cock, making him growl, but he turns Shane around and bends him over the couch. He lubes his aching cock and lets it drag down Shane’s crack, teasing them both. Shane’s perfectly round ass is hard muscle and inviting. Ilya finally enters and they both groan in pleasure. He wastes no time, thrusting into him hard and fast.

-

Shane’s forearms are on the couch cushions and his dick is rubbing against the side of the couch with each thrust from Ilya. He feels rabid with desire and pushes back to meet each thrust, not paying any attention to the sounds or words coming out of his mouth.

“So good, so fucking good, don’t stop, wanna feel you…”

“Yes, sweetheart, show me how much you want me, ride my cock,” Ilya murmurs, almost to himself. Shane speeds up and the feeling of fullness, the drag against his prostate, the rubbing of his dick, are all becoming too much.

“’Mclose,” Shane mumbles. Ilya must hear him, though, because suddenly his hands hold Shane still and Ilya slams into him again and again until Shane feels the heat crest and release with a ahhhhhhhhh Ilya fuck fuck fuck. His come splatters against the couch but he doesn’t notice this at first, fully immersed in his orgasm as Ilya keeps pumping into him. Ilya pulls out and must jerk himself off because Shane feels his come land on his ass.

“Mine, fuck, mine,” Ilya groans as he drags his spent cock down his crack again. As Shane comes down from the high, Ilya stands him up, whispers, “Shower” in his ear, and Shane lets himself be led to the bathroom.

Before bed, he wipes the couch, thanking a god he doesn’t believe in that the couch is faux-leather and easy to clean.

He falls asleep with Ilya spooning him, ready to face this next challenge.

Chapter End Notes

All the dogs mentioned are actual dogs available at the Ottawa Humane Society at time of posting (Sept 24, 2026)!

I adopted a siberian husky mix in 2014 from the OHS and she went over the rainbow bridge last October. Lena was beautiful and looked more like a german shepherd but her temperament was ALL husky. Stubborn and smart and surprisingly patient with our puppy, Blink!

I'm not exactly an "adopt don't shop" proponent so long as the "shop" is an ethical breeder! Blink is a sport-bred border collie from an amazing line, and the breeder vets who gets a puppy, which are limited to people in the dog sport community. They don't breed for profit, they merely recoup their costs. Any other dog sport enthusiasts here? I play Flyball and our club hosts Rat Hunting trials.

Anyway...

Can't wait for BAMF Shane Hollander to enter the chat and destroy some awful people!

For updates, follow me on Threads: @stephsnerdkingdom

Chapter 21: BAMF Shane Hollander

Chapter Summary

Previously on P.A. Wanted: They finally say "I love you" and try to bury another story. Shane comes out to the Centaurs.

In today's episode: Shane stops giving a fuck what other people think.

Chapter Notes

CW: homophobic language

Saturday’s game against the New York Admirals is step one in the plan to fight back.

“Hunter, do you still want to help Hollander?” Ilya asks him at 9am Saturday morning while using a new headset paid for by Shane’s company credit card.

“Of course. That live stream from the Metros players was ridiculous. What’s the plan?”

“After game, do joint press with Hollander. I make sure Berke is in press gallery.”

Ilya goes on to explain the rest of the plan, and Hunter is all in.

“Ilyaaaa,” Shane calls out from the gym room after Ilya hangs up. He enters the gym to see Shane wearing short shorts doing downward dog. Ilya’s cock twitches, but he has too much work to do.

“You are evil man, Shane Hollander.”

Shane stands up and smiles. His erection is tenting his shorts, and Ilya feels his blood rush south.

“Just wanted to give you a little something, since tonight is probably going to be weird,” he says as he stalks towards Ilya.

“A little something? I don’t think my hard dick is little, do you,” Ilya says as he presses their bodies together, hard cock to hard cock. Shane closes his eyes and hums.

“Please,” Shane whispers into his ear. Ilya shivers and lets himself be steered to sit on the weight bench. Shane sits on his lap and kisses him with abandon across his face while grinding into him. Ilya’s hands squeeze Shane’s ass and help set the pace. Shane lifts himself up a bit to lower both his and Ilya’s shorts and then spits on their cocks for some lubricant to jerk them off together. Ilya watches Shane’s large hand grasping both of their cocks and his mouth waters at the sight. He grabs Shane’s hand and spits in it to add his own saliva to the mix and lets him resume his stroking. Ilya’s tip pressing against Shane’s is intoxicating, especially when Shane rubs his thumb over both of their slits.

Ilya feels himself leaking at the combination of the stroking and Shane’s intense, focused face. He slips one of his fingers into Shane’s mouth to get it slick and then drops it to Shane’s ass where he rubs over his hole. Shane reacts by grinding against him as he tightens his fist and strokes faster. He squeezes Shane’s pec with his other hand before leaning in to suck on his nipple. Ilya wants nothing more than to leave his mark all over Shane’s body. He can’t wait for the summer.

“You’re not going to forget, right?” Shane challenges him in a low voice.

“Forget what?” Ilya asks, releasing his nipple and then alternating between sucking on Shane’s bottom lip and staring at their cocks.

“That you belong to me. You’re mine. No one else can fucking touch you. Mine.”

And then Shane changes position to lean over so his cock and Ilya’s are touching tip to tip and he strokes from one to the other.

“Fuck, Shane,” Ilya growls, the tell-tale heat and tightness in his balls hits fast.

“Say it.”

“Yours. All yours. Take what’s yours, sweetheart,” Ilya says, seconds away from combusting.

“Come for me, Rozanov,” Shane orders. At the sound of his last name passing Shane’s lips, Ilya lets go with a groan, come spurting onto Shane’s tip and dripping down. Shane uses this extra lubricant to finish himself off and Ilya feels the warmth on his own cock as Shane comes on him.

“Mine,” Shane whispers, falls into his lap, then pushes his face against Ilya’s and says, “I love you”.

Ilya’s heart thumps loudly and he can’t not smile.

“I love you, too, milyy,” Ilya replies then steals another kiss.

After their showers, Ilya locks himself in the office so he can get some work done without being lovingly menaced by Shane fucking Hollander.

-

Shane calls Hayden before his pre-game nap.

“Hey buddy, how’re you holding up?” Hayden asks.

“Yeah, great actually, we have plan to take them down,” Shane says, excitedly.

“You, what? Take them down, how?” Hayden asks, clearly not the phone call he was expecting.

“Step one happens tonight after the Admirals game. We invite Berke to the press junket to make sure I get a question about everything. But I need you to do something.”

“Anything! But, uh, you’re just ruining Comeau and Drapeau’s life, right? Not… not the Metros?”

“That’s the plan, but you never know how the public will react… it might be focused on them, or it might blowback on the organization. You and JJ need to get statements ready in support of me and against your Captains. I know I’m asking a lot…”

“No, we’ll do it. Every day it gets worse and worse, especially for JJ. Honestly, it’s a good thing he has Rose. The only time I see him smiling now is when he’s talking about her. But he can’t even do that in the locker room anymore, the guys get really disgusting.”

“Fuck, I’ll give him a call after, too.”

“He’d appreciate that, I think. So, what should my statement look like? Should I get my agent involved?”

They discuss logistics for a bit, Shane asks him to consider trading to Ottawa (he still has two years left on his contract), and then he listens about the kids and Jackie before they end the call.

Shane gets comfortable on the bed then calls JJ.

“Hollander, are you okay?” JJ says as a greeting, but not in his usual bombastic tone.

“Yeah, man. I really am. I’m taking those fuckers down and I need your help.”

“Yesssss bitch! What am I doing? Rose is here, too, by the way.”

“Hi Shane!!” he hears Rose call out from slightly further away.

“Hi Rose. I forgot to tell you, almost half of the dogs got adopted already, and plenty of others have people lined up to see them!”

“Oh my god, that’s amazing! I’m surprised you didn’t steal Roberta for yourself, if I’m being honest.”

JJ cuts in before Shane can respond.

“Yes, yes, dogs are awesome, now what can I do to get my team back?”

“Okay, I need you to make sure Comeau and Drapeau are watching my presser after the game tonight.”

“No problem. The group chat just lit up a few minutes ago with Comeau inviting us all to watch your game. I wasn’t going to go, but fuck it, if this helps take them down, I’m in, mon ami,” and then JJ speaks away from the phone to say, “Sorry, Rose! I suddenly have plans with the team tonight and they do not deserve to meet you.”

Rose whispers something so only JJ can hear and Shane is pretty certain he’s now listening to them kiss. He waits patiently for two more seconds before he coughs into the phone. He hears giggling before JJ finally focuses.

“What are you going to say to the reporters?” he asks, back in business.

“Let’s just say they will see a side of Shane Hollander they’ve never seen before.”

-

Ilya gets off his third Yuna phone call of the day, and everything is officially in motion. The sponsors are informed, the target is in place, and Shane better be napping. He stands up, stretches and cracks his neck left and right, and then quietly makes his way to the bedroom.

Whereupon he sees a naked Shane sleeping on top of the covers, backside to the door. There may as well be a welcome mat and a neon OPEN sign.

Ilya checks his watch and determines they have thirty minutes before Shane has to get out of bed and head to the arena. He quickly undresses and cuddles up against his boyfriend.

-

“Hollander.”

“Hunter.”

“Good game, boys,” the ref says before dropping the puck. Shane wins the face off, and the first period is fast, fun, and scoreless. Bennett, the Admirals’ goalie, is on fire, but so is Hayes.

Shane checks his phone during the intermission.

Ilya, 👻 P.A.: supply closet B2

He smiles and makes his way down the hall during the rush of players taking pads off, stretching, and finding their intermission snack.

He turns the knob and slips inside the dark supply closet. He can smell his boyfriend’s woodsy cologne and turns the lock on the door before Ilya’s hands find his face. He leans in quickly and kisses Shane roughly. Shane knows he’s sweaty and still in most of his gear but clearly Ilya doesn’t mind the smell. He kisses back and stifles a moan in an attempt to be quiet.

Ilya pulls back slightly and Shane wishes he could see his beautiful face.

“You skate so beautifully, sweetheart.”

He’s kissed some more and Shane sinks into it. This might be his favourite way to spend an intermission; energy gel pack be damned.

In between kisses that make his lips swell, Shane is treated to whispered admissions.

I’m so proud to be with you.
I’m so lucky.
You are perfect.
You are brave.
I can’t wait to fuck you tonight.

“Fuck, Ilya,” Shane whispers back, it’s all his brain can give him right now, in this mid-game adrenaline high.

“I make you deal. One orgasm for every goal scored. No goals, and you have to watch me touch myself while I come all over you.”

“Fuck, why am I wearing so many layers,” Shane laments. Ilya exhales a laugh mid-smile and gives him one last, long, slow kiss and then licks the sweat off his forehead before he unlocks the door and slips out without another word.

He’s not sure if this was motivation or torture, but when Shane gets back on the ice, he’s a man on a mission: get passed Eric Bennett. A lot.

The second period is slower than the first for everyone but Shane. Bood tries to keep up but Dillon is far behind. It’s okay, though, because only Carter Vaughan on the Admirals has a chance of catching him and Shane is a man possessed. His only chance is a breakaway, he figures, so he makes an opportunity happen. Seconds later, he intercepts a pass and speeds down the ice like a bullet. It’s him and Bennett now. Bennett skates up to close the gaps like Shane knew he would. He’s seen a lot of tape of Bennett on the one-on-ones. The other thing he knows about Bennett? He’s not easily faked out. He’s patient. Shane doesn’t bother trying to trick him. He’s Shane fucking Hollander, he can hit a small target anywhere in the net with his eyes shut. Let Bennett fill the net, there’s always a hole, and Shane finds it in his peripheral, bottom left. Speed is on his side, he doesn’t take any time to set up the shot, instead he trusts his instincts and shoots mid-stride before Bennett can even realize he’s taking a shot.

The siren and red light go off!

Shane smiles his real smile and celebrates his goal, Boodram reaching him first and wrapping an arm around him.

“What the fuck was that! Who cares, let’s do that again!” Bood shouts and Shane laughs.

They hit the bench and Shane chews his mouthguard and watches Bennett tap his goal posts twice each. Wiebe pats his helmet as Shane guzzles water.

Shane gets a second goal on his third shift of the second period off a beautiful pass from Boodram. He hears Bennett yelling at his own D-men to stop screening his net.

2 – 0

During the second intermission, he gets another text.

Ilya, 👻 P.A.: 2
Ilya, 👻 P.A.: an assist earns you 10 minutes of massage
Ilya, 👻 P.A.: a penalty gets you sleep cockwarming

Shane: fuck
Shane: supply closet?

Ilya, 👻 P.A.: no 😘

One period to go. He can definitely get another goal and an assist. Ilya didn’t specify that HE had to get the penalty, so maybe if he draws one from the Admirals, he can convince Ilya to pay up. Shane has never played hockey so aroused before and he fucking loves it.

“Something to prove, Hollander?” Hunter asks him at the face off.

“Maybe. Try to keep up, eh?”

Shane does start to feel himself slow down considering he’s already played 16 minutes of high intensity hockey. But Hollander’s “slow” is still faster than most, especially by the third period. Dykstra dumps the puck down the ice, but Bennett stops it before an icing is called and passes it to his own defense who tries to pass it up to Hunter. Dillon, for once, is in the right place at the right time and pokes the puck away from Hunter and passes to Boodram. Shane slows down to avoid an off-side call and then picks up speed to be there for the pass he knows is coming. Sure enough, the puck lands on his stick and he takes a shot on net knowing it will be blocked but hoping for the rebound. Boodram is in position on the other side of the net, the puck is deflected off Bennett’s goalie pad, and Bood tips it in!

Lights and siren!

3 – 0

Plus, a ten-minute massage to Shane, but he is determined to get that hat-trick. With Shane on the bench, the Admirals second line is able to pull together and sneak one passed Hayes.

3 – 1

With four minutes left in the game, Shane is determined to score before the Admirals pull the goalie. He’s also running out of time for forcing a penalty. They face off in the Ottawa zone and Shane purposefully moves too soon and is ejected from the face-off. He and Bood swap places and now Shane is in front of Zullo, a known troublemaker.

“Wanna get dinner after the game?” Shane asks with a wink.

“What the fuck,” Zullo says.

“Come on, I’ll show you a good time,” Shane presses, hoping the troublemaker has heard the rumours.

“I’m not a fuckin’ fag like you,” he says in anger, clearly not paying any attention to the face-off that’s about to happen.

“Aww, is it cuz you have a small dick?” Shane says just as the puck drops and play begins. Zullo drops his gloves and throws a punch at him. Shane, anticipating this most obvious reaction, has already moved out of the way enough that the punch doesn’t land properly, but sure enough, with gloves on the ice the whistle is blown, and Hunter doesn’t even bother arguing with the ref. Instead, he’s staring daggers at Zullo.

Ottawa has a power play with 4 minutes left and Shane takes the face-off properly this time.

“The fuck did you say to him?” Hunter growls, loud enough that the ref heard him talking but not enough to make out what was said.

“Let’s just finish the game, boys,” the ref says.

Shane wins the face-off against an annoyed Hunter and then he has fun playing against New York’s admittedly good power play line. But not good enough, Dillon takes a shot, hits the post and Shane is there to bury it behind Bennett.

4 – 1

Hats join the lights and siren to celebrate Shane’s first hat trick as a Centaur and as if they’ve already won the game. The refs finally disperse them and Shane hits the bench, feeling amazing. Hayes keeps the Admirals at bay for the remaining 3 minutes and the Canadian Tire Centre cheers loudly for their team.

During the hand shake line, Hunter says, “GG, see you soon.”

Ilya, 👻 P.A.: is not what I meant but I accept
Ilya, 👻 P.A.: hat trick. Sexy.

Shane smiles at his phone and Bood claps him on the back.

“Stop flirting, now the real fun begins, eh?”

“Fuck yes.”

Boodram whistles to the room and those not in the shower all turn to him, smiling wide after an epic win.

“Watch the post-game interviews. You’ll catch the vibe and if any reporters ask you questions, play along. Got it?”

They definitely don’t “got it” based on the confused looks they exchange with each other, but Dykstra says, “sure, Cap.”

Harris peaks into the locker room, dramatically fanning himself to general amusement, and says it’s time for Hollander and Boodram’s press conference.

Shane goes shirtless for once but wears a small CCM towel around his neck, as approved by the sponsor for this one time. Boodram is in his tight performance layer that shows off his own muscles. They are both still sweating buckets, as planned.

They make their way to the interview hallway and “run into” Hunter and Vaughan. Hunter’s eyes take in Shane’s bare chest before snapping back to his face.

The reporters go a little feral at all the Captains in one place and a shirtless Shane Hollander.

“Hollander! Congratulations on your hat trick. How does it feel?”

“It’s always a great feeling, and this one is extra special because it’s the first one with Ottawa, of course. And getting a hat trick against Eric Bennett is not taken lightly. I rarely got those even on my last team.”

“Speaking of your last team,” says a voice at the back of the scrum, just as Shane anticipated, “did you see the video the other day from two Metros players?”

“Nope, I’m too busy getting to know my new team.”

“Well, they claim that you’re gay,” he says in what Shane thinks is supposed to be a “gotcha” voice. The rest of the reporters are quiet and lean their microphones ever so slightly closer.

“Boodram, did you know your new star center is gay?” he pushes forward.

Shane has been smiling the entire time.

“Of course he does,” Shane says and wraps his arm around him. Flashes go off and everyone starts yelling over each other to ask the next question.

“Hold on, Hollander! I thought you and I were getting dinner tonight?” Hunter asks, pushing to Shane’s other side. Vaughan tries so hard to keep in his laughter at Hunter’s terrible acting.

“Sorry Hunter, I only date winners,” Shane says, squeezing Scott’s shoulder apologetically.

“I’m still available, Scott!” Vaughan calls out and they both give obvious winks. All four players are laughing at the ridiculousness. And that’s when Ilya comes from behind and whispers nonsense into Shane’s ear.

“That’s him!” Berke calls out. “That’s your Personal Assistant!”

Ilya looks towards the cameras and the reporters and raises his eyebrows.

“Ilya Rozanov, are you dating Shane Hollander?” he asks before any other reporter could.

Ilya looks Shane up and down, taking in his sweat-soaked, muscle-bulging body. Then looks back at the cameras.

“Mmm, not my type. Harris, call me,” Ilya says miming a phone call with his hand while looking towards Harris who’s off to the side. He walks away from the corridor, his task complete.

“I will get dinner with any one of these guys!” Harris calls out, earning a laugh from the reporters.

Shane turns back to the sea of confused and amused reporters.

“Any questions about hockey?”

“Are you calling Comeau and Drapeau a liar?” Berke, the idiot, continues.

“Oh, are they your “anonymous” sources? I thought reporters are supposed to keep that stuff confidential?”

Berke pales and tries to backpedal. Shane goes in for the kill.

“Comeau and Drapeau should not start rumours about others when they have their own secrets they’re trying to hide. I was their Captain, I heard a lot of stuff in that room. If Mrs. Comeau and Mrs. Drapeau want to hear from me, I’d be happy to chat with them.”

“What are you implying?” Another reporter jumps in since Berke seems to be stunned into silence.

Instead of answering the reporter directly, he addresses his allies.

“Scott, Zane, do the New York Admirals or the Ottawa Centaurs have a group chat for players who are into cheating on their partners?”

“What the hell?” Vaughan coughs out.

“No,” Scott says.

“Absolutely not,” Bood agrees.

“Interesting… Well, this was a fun game. Give Bennett my best, he made us work really hard tonight. Goodnight, everyone,” Shane says with a steady voice and walks away, giving the cameras a good look at his sweaty, toned back.

At the door to the locker room, Wiebe leans into his ear with a “I turned the cameras off in there.”

Shane enters the locker room and hears the door close behind. The boys are all going crazy at the mayhem, but he ignores them when he sees Ilya approaching. He didn’t plan it, but Shane is riding high on the adrenaline and everyone in this room knows and has shown him support, so he doesn’t hesitate when he grabs Ilya around the neck and kisses him. Cheers and whistles erupt from the team and when Shane pulls back, he’s laughing with joy at Ilya’s stunned and happy face.

“Where are we going? First round is on me!”

-

Ilya’s still riding the high from Shane kissing him in the locker room in front of everyone when he calls ahead to Monk’s to warn them of the impending Centaurs and Admirals takeover. On the drive over, Shane holds his hand from the passenger seat while Boyle, LaPointe, and Young are crammed in the back.

“Seriously, that presser was epic!” LaPointe exclaims.

“If we didn’t know any better, we would think you’re straight but also not homophobic,” Boyle adds.

“The look on Berke’s face when you called him out on Comeau and Drapeau was priceless! I’m so glad the camera panned over for that!” Young says from the middle seat, leaning forward between the two front seats.

The younger players continue to rave about the game and the fun they will have at Monk’s. Ilya keeps his focus on Shane, though. He still looks at ease, but it could be a façade for the kids in the back. He squeezes Shane’s hand as he takes the Bronson exit off the highway. Shane squeezes back and turns his head to give him a soft smile, no panic in sight. Ilya is so proud of Shane he thinks his heart will crash out of his chest.

They find street parking a couple blocks away and make their way over. Ilya would love nothing more than to hold his hand during the walk, and he thinks Shane feels the same based on how close he’s walking next to him. For this, though, Ilya will take Shane’s lead.

-

Fuck, Shane thinks to himself, I really want to hold his hand. Soon, hopefully.

They find their way to the semi-private corner section reserved for them and as they take their seats to order drinks, Shane finally checks his phone.

Metrois

JJ, #16: fuck fuck fuck
JJ, #16: you are awesome
JJ, #16: and I need to get out of here
JJ, #16: the boys are going crazy
JJ, #16: the cheating group chat scandal holy fuck esti de calisse
JJ, #16: C and D are losing their shit
JJ, #16: okay I left with some of the rookies
JJ, #16: they started yelling at anyone who wasn’t “with” them
JJ, #16: no rush Hollander but call when you can

Hayden: holy shit
Hayden: I’m glad I wasn’t there but I’m sorry you did that alone JJ
Hayden: are you okay?

JJ, #16: I don’t know. I want to tear those fuckers down. But we need to practice with them tomorrow. Wtf will happen

Hayden: Jackie is PISSED. Says I should have told her about the group chat. Doesn’t believe me that I had no idea!!

JJ, #16: Not everyone knew. Me and Shane can talk to her. They tried to add me to the group chat when I started dating Rose. In what universe would someone cheat on ROSE FUCKING LANDRY???

Shane: hey guys
Shane: Hayd, we’ll talk to Jackie, I know you didn’t know about it. She can be mad at me instead.

Hayden: thanks man. how did you know about it?

Shane: Same way JJ did. They tried to add me when they thought I was dating Rose. I told them that was the grossest thing I’ve ever heard (the group chat… not dating Rose! Although…😅😂).

Hayden: okay I showed Jackie our chat and she believes me now. She says you guys aren’t off the hook, though. Best of luck with that! My girl can hold a grudge. I love her so much.

JJ, #16: 🙄

Shane: I can offer an all-expenses paid date night + babysitting duties

JJ, #16: I’ll give her a spoiler for the new X-Squad movie.

Hayden: Jackie accepts
Hayden: Now back to the shit show
Hayden: Are C and D planning any retaliation?

JJ, #16: probably. Clarkson stayed behind but he seemed just as uncomfortable as me. Maybe I can get him to tell me what’s going on.

Shane: keep me updated. I’m at the bar now to celebrate 😅. Chat later!

Shane puts the phone down, ignoring the other messages from his mother, Rose, and Jackie. When he tunes back into the conversation, he sees a ginger ale in front of him and an Ilya next to him sipping vodka.

“You are okay?” Ilya asks him.

“Yeah. The Metros are going crazy. I feel bad for JJ and Hayden, but I don’t regret anything.”

“Good,” he smiles, leaning forward on the table. Shane leans back in the booth and places his hand on Ilya’s lower back, where no one can see. He rubs his thumb back and forth, enjoying the feeling of the silky shirt and the hard muscles underneath. He sees the corner of Ilya’s lips turn up at the touch.

The booth is full, the bar gets louder, and a few minutes later the Admirals arrive. Some of the Centaurs give up their seats and hit the dance floor where songs from Shane’s junior hockey days are playing. Hunter, Bennett, and Vaughan take the vacated seats. Shane buys Bennett a drink for getting a hat trick on him and is pleasantly surprised when he orders a non-alcoholic drink. They chat about their clean eating habits while Ilya needles Scott about his recent Under Armor commercial (“What, they could not afford to go to gym? Why are you in front of green screen?”).

Shane notices Ilya bouncing to the music and has the sudden desire to dance with him. Could it be okay? If there are pictures or videos, can they make it look like an extension of the silly press conference gimmick? Does Shane care? He’s discovering more and more that he cares less and less. But that’s not part of the plan they made. He has to wait. Right? Shane watches the dance floor and notes that everyone is dancing close to each other, packed tight, and plenty of guys are dancing platonically together.

Scott is distracted by his phone for a few minutes, Eric Bennett heads to the washroom, Carter Vaughan left them at some point and is on the dance floor with a pretty girl. Just as Shane is about to drag Ilya to the dance floor, Scott’s eyes snap up at Shane looking determined.

“Everything okay, man?” Shane asks.

“Yeah. You really… inspired me. Since All-Stars. And…” Scott is sweating and taps his fingers on the table like a nervous tick.

“And I wanted to tell you… I… Ihaveaboyfriend,” he finishes quickly, looking surprised at himself. He swallows and pushes his phone toward Shane and Ilya. Shane is shocked at the admission and before he checks out whatever is on his phone, he lays a hand on Scott’s shoulder.

“That’s awesome! Thank you for telling us. I’m so glad I’m not the only one!” Shane is on cloud fucking nine right now. Not only is there another queer player, but it’s another Captain! Of arguably the best team in the league right now! He checks the phone and sees Scott with a handsome man, both smiling at the camera.

“He is too handsome for you, Hunter!” Ilya teases and for once Scott doesn’t take the bait and just smiles. His shoulders drop down and Shane knows from experience the weight that’s just been lifted.

Okay. That’s it. Fuck the plan. Shane is going to dance with his fucking boyfriend.

“Come on, we’re hitting the dance floor now.” Ilya looks delighted and Scott stays to wait for Eric.

Shane is not usually a dancer, but he trusts Ilya to make him look good. He leads them to a cluster of Centaurs and grabs Ilya’s hand to place it on his waist. Ilya takes the hint, keeps his hand there, and moves them to the beat.

-

Ilya is on cloud fucking nine. “Temperature” from Sean Paul is playing, he’s got Shane’s back pressed against his chest, he’s moving Shane’s hips with his, and he sings the lyrics of the chorus into Shane’s ear. The lights are low, colourful, flashing, and they are surrounded by friends. Ilya brackets Shane’s body with his arms now, letting his entire body lead Shane’s. Like the good boy he is, Shane is pliant beneath him. The song transitions into “Low” by Flo Rida. Ilya feels drunk off Shane being in his arms. He doesn’t hesitate when the song asks him to get low, low, low, low, low. He places one hand back on Shane’s hip and guides him down as everyone on the dance floor sinks low. When everyone else pops back up, Ilya makes them take their time, stealing a kiss against his neck. He repeats this move when Flo says it’s time.

Shane grinds into him and Ilya’s head is swimming while his cock is half-hard and pulsing to the drum beat as Ke$ha takes over, talking about a place she knows downtown. Ilya raises Shane’s arm above his head and trails his hand down the triceps, down his armpit, down his ribs, down his obliques, then slides his hand under Shane’s lifted shirt so he can feel his sweaty skin. He inhales Shane’s cologne, shampoo, and musk, and tightens his grip to ground himself lest he bite his neck. The entire dance floor shouts “take it off!” like a call and response, including his gorgeous, perfect Shane.

Now Lady Gaga asks them to Just Dance and Shane turns around to face him. Ilya leans in so their foreheads are touching, their hips reconnecting as they just dance, and Ilya smiles a feral, predatory smile. Shane’s arms are around his neck, matching his smile, and licking his lips. Ilya must devour him. Immediately. From his peripheral vision, the Centaurs seem to be crowding around them, perhaps providing cover? Ilya closes his mouth brings it close to Shane’s, letting him decide whether he’s comfortable kissing in public like this. His heart is hammering from the exertion and the excitement. Please please please please fuck.

-

Shane is happy. Wildly happy. Ilya is holding him and only has eyes for him. Shane licks his lips. Ilya’s breath hitches and he partially leans in, an invitation, if Shane is brave enough to take it. He’s not wasting any more time. Shane closes the gap, the music fades away as soon as their lips meet. With his eyes closed, his sense of touch is heightened. He feels Ilya’s hands bruising on his hips; Ilya somehow keeps them moving to the music or to their own pulse he’s not sure. Shane’s fingers thread through Ilya’s curls as their mouths open and tongues find each other. He feels Ilya’s hot breath. He feels Ilya’s hard cock grinding against his own. He feels rather than hears Ilya’s growl. Ilya pulls back and Shane sees the lust he’s feeling reflected back at him.

The music changes to something more recent and Shane realizes a live band is setting up. He mouths “home” to Ilya who nods.

Shane and Ilya make their way back to the booth to say goodbye. Hunter is chatting with Bennett and he looks excited.

“Hey man, I just told Bennett. And guess what?” Hunter says, leaning forwards to be heard over the music.

“What?” Shane asks, smiling at Hunter’s enthusiasm and new-found courage. Scott turns to Eric and nods along.

“I’m bi,” Bennett admits.

“THREE, Rook! There’s gotta be more. We should start a coalition or something!”

“That’s incredible! Thanks for sharing, Bennett,” he says, clapping him on the back.

“We’re heading home, but message me about this coalition thing. It’s a good idea. The more of us there are, the less the league can give us issues.”

“Exactly! Alright man, good game tonight, and we’ll be in touch!”

-

Back at the apartment, after ravishing Shane in the elevator, Ilya instructs Shane to undress and lay on his stomach on their bed. Ilya gathers massage oil and a toy he purchased recently that Shane doesn’t know about yet. He undresses, puts the cock ring on, and straddles Shane’s legs. He sets his timer for ten minutes and drips oil on Shane’s lower back and ass cheeks. Shane makes a small noise at the cold oil but it turns into a contented sigh when Ilya applies pressure with his hands. He rubs Shane’s back muscles on the left side first, then moves to the right side. After a couple minutes, he lowers his hands to Shane’s round glutes. He focuses the next five minutes on his cheeks. He lets his dick gently rest on Shane’s ass as a little tease, moving his hips gently so it drags up and down his crack. He keeps it wedged in between while he moves his hands back up to Shane’s back, not letting up his slow rutting. He adds more oil and reaches up to massage under his shoulder blades.

-

Shane is so hard. His cock is trapped between his stomach and the mattress, and he can feel Ilya’s cock teasing his ass while his muscles are loosened. If he wasn’t so aroused he might fall asleep from relaxation. Ilya’s ten-minute alarm goes off and he quickly silences it, but he doesn’t immediately move off Shane. Instead, his hands travel back down and spreads his cheeks, and he can feel the heat of Ilya’s cock on his hole.

He feels Ilya’s lips on his back, kissing down his spine, licking down his crack, then kissing and licking his hole. Shane moans and his cock aches. He ruts against the mattress to give himself some friction. Ilya doesn’t stop him and instead he holds his tongue in place. Now when Shane humps the bed he’s also dragging his hole across Ilya’s tongue.

“Oh my god, oh my god, I could come just from this, what the fuck,” Shane says to himself. Shane moves faster and he can hear Ilya moving behind him although he manages to keep his tongue in place. If he was in his right state of mind, he would have heard a bottle open. As it is, his hips undulate for maximum stimulation and when he rears back, instead of Ilya’s tongue, he’s met with Ilya’s lubed finger that he presses in.

“Oh fuck,” Shane gasps.

Ilya still lets him set the pace, and every time he lifts his hips, Ilya’s finger is there ready to push in. One finger becomes two and the buzzing from his prostate takes precedence over the friction against his cock. He focuses only on his fingers, moving forward and back so they exit completely and then push in as far as they can go.

Two fingers become three and now Shane lets the fingertips stay in as he rides Ilya’s fingers.

“Fuck yeah, fuck,” Shane moans.

Ilya kneels, straddling one of Shane’s legs. As Shane backs into his fingers, his ass cheek is met with the wet tip of Ilya’s cock. Sometimes he smacks his dick on his cheek. It’s so dirty and Shane is ready.

“I’m close, please can I come now?” It comes out sounding needier than Shane meant it to, but he’s too lost in the sensations to be embarrassed about it.

“Yes, you have earned your first orgasm of the night. Come with my fingers inside you, want to feel it,” Ilya murmurs.

It only takes a few more movements and one stroke of his cock for his come to paint the bedding and his hand. He keeps moving through the aftershocks, making the wet spot bigger.

“Holy fuck,” Shane exhales and tries to collapse on his side while avoiding the mess but Ilya keeps him up. The reason becomes clear when Shane feels something hard and lubricated pushing in.

“A plug, to keep you open for me,” Ilya explains.

“You’re so smart, I love you,” Shane says he’s finally able to lay down on his side after wiping his hand with wet wipes from the bedside table. Ilya’s smile is radiant and Shane’s eyes drift across his heavenly body down to his hard cock. This is when he notices the cock ring.

“What…?” Is all his brain can come up with, and Ilya huffs out a short laugh.

“Is a cock ring. It lets me stay hard for longer. I need to give you two more orgasms. Must stay hard for my sexy boyfriend.”

“Oh, doesn’t seem fair that only I get three…”

“Imagine being edged for hours and then finally letting go? Trust me, my orgasm will feel like three-in-one,” he says as he lays down behind Shane, spooning him. Shane can feel Ilya’s cock between his thighs and the light kisses against his neck and below his ear.

“Mmmmmm,” Shane says, eloquently.

“You get us glasses of water while I change the sheets, okay?”

“Mmmmmkay,” Shane responds and makes no effort to move until Ilya rolls off the bed.

As Shane reaches for the glasses in the kitchen, he almost drops both of them when the butt plug starts vibrating.

“Jesus Christ!”

Maybe he should have seen this coming. He breaths through it and it stops. He quickly fills the glasses and places them back on the counter just in time for another round of vibration but with a different pattern.

bzzt bzzt bzzt bzzzzzzzt

It feels good. He leans his forearms against the counter and grabs a metal straw from the drawer. He drinks his water while enjoying the sensation. It turns off again.

Ilya makes an appearance, grabs a dining chair, and heads back into the room without saying a word. Shane follows with the glasses in hand. The fitted sheet is now clean, and the dining chair is beside the bed with one of the pillows on it.

“Sit,” Ilya commands. Shane takes a final suck through the straw, places the glasses on the dresser, and sits on the pillow chair. Ilya takes a sip of his own water before disappearing into the walk-in closet and coming back out with a bunch of ties.

“You were in charge of your first orgasm. I will be in charge of this one. I will bind your arms and legs to the chair so you cannot move. You remember safe word?” Ilya says it all slowly and seriously.

“Overtime,” Shane nods and says it quickly.

“Good boy.”

Shane flushes. Ilya takes his time tying each hand to the back of the chair, all the while peppering his body with kisses. Then he spreads Shane’s legs and ties his ankles to the chair legs. He turns the vibrator on the low constant setting.

“Oh fuck” Shane moans, his cock back to full strength. Ilya stands to admire his work and then adds lube to his own cock and strokes it in front of Shane. Shane licks his lips, hoping Ilya will let him suck him off. The vibrator turns off. Watching Ilya masturbate is one of the hottest sights he will ever see. Not just the motion of his hand, but the raw desire and pleasure on his face, too. Intoxicating.

Ilya approaches and kneels down. He licks alone his length from balls to tip. Ilya grabs the water glass from the dresser, takes another sip, then immediately puts Shane in his mouth. The cold! Ilya’s normally warm mouth is now cold and it takes him by surprise. It doesn’t take long for it to warm up again, but the feeling was new and interesting. Ilya does it again. And again.

“I love the sounds you make for me, sweetheart,” Ilya praises in between rounds. He turns the vibrator back on and clicks a button a few times until he gets the pattern he wants. Shane is leaking and would throw his head back but then he’d miss Ilya’s eye contact as he takes his entire cock in his mouth. Shane feels the back of Ilya’s throat while the vibrator teases him relentlessly.

bzzzzzzZZZZZTTT bzzzzzzZZZZZZTTT

Ilya stops the cold play and focuses on bobbing his head, his lips reaching the base of Shane’s cock. He sucks, he swallows around him, and he takes him deep. Shane is a goner. He’s panting, his balls are swollen again, and then Ilya presses another button and Shane is seconds away from losing it.

bzzzzzZZZZZZzzzzzzzZZZZZZzzzzzzzzZZZZZzzzzz

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck Ilya ILYA!”

Ilya is ready for him, sucking on his tip and swallowing everything Shane gives him. He strokes up Shane’s cock as Shane shudders until he’s still. At some point during his orgasm Ilya turned off the vibrator. Ilya gives one last lick to his overstimulated slit and then sits back on his heels, catching his breath and smiling. He unties him, and gives him his glass of water which Shane finishes.

“Two,” Shane says, weakly but smiling. Ilya smiles back, takes his glass away, then helps him stand. They lie down on the bed, facing each other, still smiling, and Shane’s head is blissfully quiet.

-

Shane’s soft eyes and easy smile is one of his favourite Shane faces. He wraps one arm around Shane and kisses his lips gently, in complete incongruence to the urgency his cock is feeling. But he needs to wait. Shane just came twice within thirty minutes; he’ll need time to recover. Shane’s hand drifts down, down, down, and Ilya stops it before it reaches its destination.

“Not yet, sweetheart. For your third orgasm, I am going to fuck you into the mattress, but we will wait until your body is ready,” Ilya murmurs softly.

“Then let me give you a massage, at least.”

“Okey, if you must,” Ilya relents. Shane instructs him to lie on his back; he finds the oil on the nightstand and warms some up in his hands. Shane starts with his arm muscles and slowly travels to his shoulder and neck, adding oil when needed. He switches sides and Ilya watches him all the while. The massage feels good and watching Shane’s intense focus makes it even better. He moves to Ilya’s legs, starting with his calves. It probably would be easier if he was on his back, but his instructions were clear. Shane spends a lot of time on Ilya’s quads, one leg at a time. Sometimes he leans down and licks the tip of Ilya’s cock. Ilya is feral. His body is relaxed everywhere except his cock.

“I think it’s time to massage this now, don’t you think?” Shane says, reading Ilya’s mind. Without waiting for a response, Shane takes Ilya into his mouth. That mouth. Those lips. Made just for him. His Shane. It’s a good thing he’s wearing the damn cock ring because he would have exploded by now not just from Shane’s glorious, hot, wet mouth, but from the moans Shane is making. As soon as Ilya realizes Shane is hard again, his brain catches up to his body.

“Are you ready to be fucked?”

Shane pops off his cock, eyes drunk, and says, “fuck yes.”

Ilya and Shane exchange positions and he lifts Shane’s legs to reveal the plug. He presses the button one more time just for a few seconds before clicking it off. He slowly pulls it out and Shane lets out a groan. Ilya needs to keep his ring on for a little longer to satisfy his promise of fucking Shane into the mattress. He lubes himself up then finally, finally slides home.

“God, Shane,” he moans.

-

Shane feels properly full and complete. The only thing that can make this better is if Ilya moved in and out really fast. Yeah. That would do the trick.

-

Shane looks blissed out and Ilya feels powerful. He slams into Shane, not going easy on him. He’s so fucking tight. The feeling of doing this without a condom has not gotten old, yet. He sets a rhythm and breathes through it like he would if he was running a marathon. Shane gasps with each thrust.

-

You know what else would be good? If Shane was on all fours. Ilya can get so deep like that. He should use his words to tell him, but no words come to his brain. Maybe if he just starts moving Ilya will get the hint?

-

Shane’s hands that were holding up his legs let go and gently push against Ilya. Does he want something else? Ilya pulls out, panting, sweating, and about ready to take this fucking cock ring off. Shane turns around on all fours and lowers his front to his forearms; presenting his ass to Ilya.

“Such a good boy,” Ilya says in horniness-aggression. It’s like cuteness aggression but nothing about this is cute. He kneels closer, shoves his cock back in, and grabs Shane’s hips as leverage while he snaps his hips hard. This angle seems to attack his prostate with every pump based on the ah ah ah’s Shane can’t stop making. He gets louder and Ilya is pretty certain he’s almost ready to come again.

He slides out.

“Nooo no no nocomeback,” Shane whines. Ilya removes the cock ring and grabs a towel from the top of the dresser that he placed there earlier. He lays the towel underneath Shane, who hasn’t moved from his position as he catches his breath.

With the ring gone, his cock is angrier than ever and seeking release. He quickly gets back in position and moves Shane’s hips to welcome him. Shane takes the hint and fucks himself on Ilya’s cock as Ilya thrusts in time for added power.

“Come on my cock, do not touch yourself, can you do that?”

“Fuckyes, keep talking.”

“Do you have any idea… how crazy you make me… how good you make me feel… you are unreal… so fucking hot… fucking love your ass… come on… show me how much you want me… and I’ll come inside you.”

-

The thought of Ilya coming inside and feeling the drip after tears through his body like a lightning bolt and he comes in waves over the towel. His body convulses with each release, ass clenching, which sets off Ilya.

-

“Fuck Shane,” Ilya blacks out as he finally releases into Shane’s ass. He pumps and stills. Pumps and stills. Riding them both through their orgasms and aftershocks. His vision comes back slowly. He pulls out and enjoys the sight of his come leaking out.

“Holy shit,” Shane mumbles into the pillow. Ilya stands on wobbly legs, rescues the towel and tosses it into the hamper, then pulls Shane off the bed. Shane limps slightly and follows him to the en-suite. They are both giggling, feeling out of their minds. Ilya starts filling the tub, knowing neither of them can stand for much longer after what they just went through. They kiss, holding each other up while they wait. They get in the extra-large tub, and Shane sits in front of him, between his legs, and leans back into him. Ilya wraps his arms around him and kisses his silky hair. The hot water comforts their muscles and they enjoy the peace.

Back in bed feeling clean and relaxed, they spoon and the feeling of Shane’s naked body against him makes it easy to get hard again. Shane is still open enough, but he takes a minute to make sure he’s prepared.

“You are ready for your cockwarming duties?” Ilya whispers into his ear. Shane shivers and says yes. Ilya lifts Shane’s leg to get a better angle, pushes in, then lets Shane’s leg back down. They both sigh in relief, Shane for being full, and Ilya for being warm.

“Goodnight, Shane.”

“Goodnight, Ilya.”

-

A few hours later, they are rudely woken up by Shane’s phone going off. Who the fuck is calling at 4 in the morning? He reaches over trying not to let Ilya slip out, and sees JJ is calling. What the fuck.

“JJ?” he croaks.

“You’re not safe. Clarkson heard from one of the guys in the cheating group chat. All those guys are headed to Ottawa right now. They don’t know where you live, but they found your parents’ address online somehow,” JJ says in spitfire French which takes Shane a second to translate in his groggy state.

“Like, right now?” is what Shane’s brain comes up with once most of what JJ said makes it through.

“YES. They left over an hour ago. They will get there soon. They are sober and angry, Shane. The WAGs chat exploded. Those guys are all facing expensive and embarrassing divorces, not to mention whatever the league or the organization will do about morality clauses or something. They blame you, of course. Not their own horrendous behaviour.”

“Fuck. Okay. We’re getting up. Thank you, JJ. We’ll keep each other posted, yeah?” Shane says, switching back to English for his own sanity.

“Yes, I am driving now. On my way to you. You never know if you need more support. Can you get in touch with some Centaurs, too, just in case?”

They hang up and Shane catches Ilya up, they both sigh in disappointment as Ilya slides out, still hard. But, priorities.

“You call your mother. I have WAG privileges and will call the group chat. Someone will answer and wake up their partner. We go from there.”

Chapter End Notes

GG = "good game"
Technically Zullo would have been traded just before the deadline but in my AU he gets traded after the season ends.

 

Okay I don't know if I'll be able to tie everything up in one more chapter... we shall see!

Is Shane BAMF enough??

 

I'm posting this on Truth and Reconciliation Day, so I'd like to add that I have the honour of writing, playing, and working in Ottawa which is on the unceded, unsurrendered Territory of the Anishinaabe Algonquin Nation whose presence here reaches back to time immemorial.
<3

 

Thank you to everyone who comments and sends kudos! It makes my heart so happy <3
Follow me on Threads for updates: @stephsnerdkingdom

Chapter 22: BAMF Shane II / Harris

Chapter Summary

Previously on P.A. Wanted: Shane retaliates against the Metros by revealing the "cheating on wives" group chat. Now those guys are on their way to Ottawa.

In today's episode: Picks up right where we left off.

Chapter Notes

Okay, yes, the chapter count went up again. I wanted to finish it all in one chapter but there's enough to split it in two! And this way you guys get more while I keep working on the last bit :).

I hope you enjoy!

 

 

CW: depiction of a fatal car accident (from a memory, no MCD here)

“Cassie! Emergency. Wake up Bood right now,” Ilya says, relief flooding his system as someone finally answers. Lisa joins the call, clearly taking it from a night shift at the hospital.

“Lisa! Good. Call your husband after this. And then get in touch with the rest of the WAGs.”

“Roz? Hun, what’s going on?” Cassie asks, her voice becoming more and more alert. Ilya can’t see her in the dark room until she turns on a side lamp. Now he can see her shaking a lump next to her in bed.

Ilya explains the situation and both women look at him like he’s a little insane. Boodram’s face is hooked over Cassie’s shoulder, listening intently.

“Uhh, Roz? Did you call the police yet?” Lisa asks, raising her eyebrows.

“Oh. No. Will do that next,” Ilya adds, a little sheepishly. Lisa smiles fondly, shaking her head, but she does start texting someone. Wyatt, he hopes.

“Between me, Cassie, and Lisa, we’ll get in touch with as many team members as we can. What’s his parents’ address?” Bood asks, Captain mode activated.

“Wait, I just had better idea,” Ilya says.

-

“Shane? What’s wrong?” Yuna asks on high alert through the grogginess.

“You’re not safe. You and dad need to leave the house right now. Come to my place. Comeau and Drapeau and some other guys are driving from Montreal. I don’t know what they intend to do but they’re pissed,” Shane says, speaking fast and to the point.

“Understood, although I’d love to give them a piece of my mind…” Yuna says, and Shane knows that voice means her nostrils are flaring.

“What time are the police getting here?” she asks and Shane can hear her and dad moving out of bed.

“Oh. Uh. I’ll call them right after. I needed to get you safe, first,” Shane says, trying to justify his decision. Yuna merely sighs.

“How much time do we have before this convoy of assholes shows up at our doorstep?”

“JJ thinks they’re about half an hour away, could be closer, though.”

“Got it. We’re getting ready. I’ll see you soon.”

“Well, me and the Centaurs are going to your place to de-escalate the situation,” Shane explains, as though that’s the obvious thing to do. Yuna sighs again.

“Before you do that, call the police and do whatever they say, okay?”

“I’ll call them right now,” Shane says, not promising anything else.

“Love you guys,” he adds, sincerely.

“We love you too, sweetie,” Yuna responds.

Shane and Ilya end their calls at about the same time.

“We have to call the police,” Shane says.

“Yes, Lisa said same thing to me. Bood is calling the team; Lisa is waking up Hayes. You get ready, and maybe wear some extra hockey padding?”

“Good idea. I have some that should fit you, too,” Shane says, eyeing his boyfriend’s naked body, his mind wandering for a second.

“Yes, yes, I am very hot, but you must focus. I will put on boxers if it helps,” Ilya says and gives him his sexiest crooked grin.

“Fuck you,” Shane says, with all the love in the world.

“Later. Now, I need you to text one of these assholes.”

Shane: enjoying the drive?

Comeau, #47: look w ho it is
Comeau, #47: u think u cn ruin our fukcin lives?

Shane: I’ll be at the arena. Come talk.

Shane frowns at the texts. Didn’t JJ say they were sober? Maybe Comeau is texting and driving…

-

“Police have been dispatched. If you know the make and model of the vehicle we can have officers on the highway to intercept,” the 911 dispatcher says in a reassuring and serious tone.

“Ah… I do not know…” Ilya moves the phone away and asks Shane, “do you know what car Comeau or Drapeau drive?”

Shane thinks but comes up blank.

“I’m sorry, I’m not a car guy. They both drive black SUVs, but that’s all I know,” Shane grimaces. Ilya stores this information to tease him about it later.

“Black SUV, but do not know make or model,” Ilya says, bringing the phone back to his ear.

“Noted. And you said the occupants of the house have been informed and are leaving?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Stay where you are. The police will give you an update when they can. This is the best number to reach you at?”

“Yes.”

“Anything else to add?”

“No.”

“Okay. Stay safe. If you learn any new information, call back. Good night.”

“Thank you, goodbye.”

Shane laid out clothing and padding for Ilya who gets dressed right away. Ilya “forgets” to tell Shane that the dispatcher told them to stay where they are.

-

Harris

Harris would be lying if he said this isn’t what he signed up for when he majored in Communications and became the social media manager for the Ottawa Centaurs. That being said, recording an Instagram reel of “Put A Finger Down” before 5am was certainly not on his bingo card.

When Rozanov called him (incessantly, annoyingly, persistently) 30 minutes ago, Harris was halfway out the door before the call ended, giving Ilya precise instructions.

And now he’s holding Shane Hollander’s phone, while Shane and half a dozen Centaurs stand next to him. Rozanov is standing off to the side with some of the wives who wouldn’t let their partners do something potentially dangerous without them nearby. The Metros haven’t arrived yet but maybe they went to Shane’s parents’ house like they originally planned.

“Recording in 3-2-1, Action!” Harris calls out.

“This is Put A Finger Down MLH edition. Pause the video and blind react to play along with us,” Shane announces. Everyone puts a hand up.

“Put a finger down if you’ve never cheated on your wife or partner,” Boodram begins, pulling no punches apparently. Everyone drops a finger.

“Put a finger down if you would feel comfortable with a gay or bi hockey player in the locker room,” Chouinard says and they all lower another finger.

“Put a finger down if you understand that there are definitely queer hockey players out there who are afraid to come out because of the real threat other players could pose?” Dykstra says on his turn. Another finger down.

“Put a finger down if you want to tell those players that YOUR TEAM is a safe place,” Hayes adds. They all have one finger left.

“Put a finger down if you think the MLH can and should do more to protect their players from discrimination? Be it racial, sexual orientation, or whatever?” Shane finishes the game, everyone dropping their last finger.

“Thank you for playing. I dare every player in the league to play the game and post their results. We’ll see you on the ice.”

Harris ends the video. Adds a caption, some tags, and posts it quickly.

“You guys did great! It’s posted. Get on your phones and repost it.”

“I will send to Hunter, Vaughan, Bennett, Pike, and Marleau directly,” Rozanov says, tapping away at his phone. The girls are also sharing the video to their audiences and the WAG chat.

“Okay, my fingers are cold, can we wait inside now?” Harris asks.

JJ arrives at the arena, and Harris helps him with his reaction video. His answers were similar to the Centaurs’; except he couldn’t lower his finger saying his team was a safe space. Even though it’s 5am, they get videos from the rest of the Centaurs, several New York Admirals and Hayden Pike. Harris makes sure to comment, like, and repost every one of them.

-

No news from the Metros Convoy until Ilya gets a phone call half an hour later.

“This is Officer Miller. An SUV was pulled over earlier this morning for stunt driving. It seems this group was flagged by a previous 911 call you placed over an hour ago. Do you have reason to believe there is more than one SUV related to your report?”

“No, our information is that it was only the one SUV.”

“Noted. In that case, there should no longer be any threat to person or property from this group. The vehicle has been impounded for thirty days, and the driver’s license is suspended for two weeks. They will be held here until their coach sends a van to pick them up.”

“Thank you very much, Officer Miller,” Ilya responds and they hang up. Ilya relays the information to a tired but happy crowd. The players hang around since the bus to the airport will be here in just over an hour and they all brought their bags just in case. The girls and Harris head home.

-

Harris

Harris sets himself a repeating alarm every forty-five minutes. When it goes off, he hops on social media to like/comment/repost any new videos for fifteen minutes. Then he restarts the timer and takes another nap. He repeats this process until around 10am when he drives himself to the nearest Starbucks and gets the ventiest frappiest cappuccino, sits himself at a table with his laptop, and continues working.

The social media reaction is 70/30 in favour of the Cens. The outpouring of love and support is huge, but of course there is still a faction of the internet that thinks athletes shouldn’t have opinions or that gay people shouldn’t be allowed in locker rooms. The thought that they’ve been in a locker room with a queer person without them knowing or noticing has clearly never crossed their narrow minds.

The official Centaurs statement reads:

@OttawaCentaursMLH: It has been brought to our attention that several Ottawa Centaurs players published a video this morning that has gone viral. These players absolutely speak for the organization. The Centaurs is a safe place for all players, regardless of sexual orientation. In fact, as the gay social media manager, I welcome gay players to the locker room! Come join us! PLEASE! I WANT TO BE A WAG-

     >@OttawaCentaursMLH: It has been brought to our attention that the social media manager drank too much coffee this morning.

     >>@OttawaCentaursMLH: But the point still stands. The Centaurs believe that #HockeyIsForEveryone

As expected, this received a lot of positive reactions (many saying a certain social media manager deserves a raise, thank you very much).

The Starbucks gets busier as noon comes around and Harris has switched to hot chocolate while munching on a Cheese Danish.

“Excuse me? Do you mind if I sit here?”

Harris looks up to see a man sporting a runners physique and short, dirty blonde hair hovering behind the chair across from him, holding his own coffee and laptop.

“Go ahead!” Harris says brightly, shifting his stuff to give the other man space.

“Appreciated,” the man says, taking a seat. Harris judges him to be in his mid- to late-twenties. They work silently until Harris’ phone rings.

“Hollander! Everything okay?” Harris greets. The other man’s eyes dart up briefly before refocusing on his laptop.

“Hey Harris. Um. I think so. The reaction seems okay, right?”

“Absolutely. You may have seen that Boston replied as a team as well. As did Vancouver. Both positive. Toronto went the other way. Obviously, Kent was opposed. I was shocked that Barrett wasn’t in the video considering he’s Kent’s shadow. I’m in talks with several other social media managers and we can expect more positive videos coming throughout the day.”

His table partner’s eyes flitted up again before he forced them back down to his own work.

“Good, good. Any news from Colorado?”

“No word yet. I’ve reached out to their team’s rep, though. I can give you an idea if you can expect a more brutal game tomorrow once I hear back.”

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it. It’s wild. Lots of speculation about me, right? I’m seeing a lot of “so, is he?” responses... I assume they are asking if I am, in fact, gay?”

“That’s my read on it as well. Totally up to you how you want to handle it. Saying nothing is still a valid response.”

“Okay. Yeah. I kind of… have an idea. But it has to wait until the last game of the season.”

Harris smiles wide.

“Amazing. I can’t wait to hear about it. We’ll discuss in person when you guys are back?”

“Yeah, sounds good. Let me know if I should be doing anything else. I keep reposting and liking the positive videos.”

“Keep doing that, I’ll handle the rest. Good luck tomorrow!” Harris says and ends the call.

He takes a sip of his mostly-hot chocolate and opens his inbox.

“Sorry… was that about… do you work for the Centaurs?” the guy asks.

“I do. Are you a fan?” Harris asks neutrally, unsure what direction this conversation is about to go.

“I am! I saw the video this morning with our guys and it was amazing. I’m bi, so it felt great to know I’d be welcomed in the locker room. Makes me proud to be a Cens fan and I can’t wait to shove it in my co-workers face. He’s a Guardians fan,” the man says, shaking his head in distaste. Harris smiles wide and laughs at that last bit.

“I’m Harris, by the way.”

“Andy.”

They shake hands.

“So, what do you do, Andy?” Harris asks.

“I’m a programmer for the government,” Andy replies.

“And they’ve got you working on the weekend?” Harris asks, nodding his chin towards the laptop.

“Oh! No, I’m a dungeon master for a D&D campaign. I’m prepping for our next session. Have you played?”

“Not yet! One of the guys on the team plays, though. He says he’ll make me do a one-shot with him and a few others over the summer. Any advice for a new player?”

Harris spends an enjoyable hour talking to Andy and they exchange phone numbers before Harris heads home, a pep in his step.

-

Harris: Colorado = split. Contact doesn’t know what to expect.

Shane: thanks for checking!

Shane is crawling into the hotel bed for his pre-game nap. Ilya is, quite rudely, working.

“Rozanov,” Shane calls out, voice muffled slightly from the pillow.

“Hollander,” Ilya responds, voice neutral.

“I need your personal assistance.”

“I am personally assisting you by RSVPing to a fancy gala in LA from your good friend Rose Landry. P.A.’s are invited as well.”

“Mmmmkay. But then can you put your dick inside me, please?”

“Now I am very busy organizing a photo shoot in June. Get yourself ready and go to sleep. I will fuck you thirty minutes before your alarm goes off while you are still asleep. You will wake up with my dick inside you.”

“Fuck. Okay.”

Shane opens himself up (trying to get Ilya’s attention with his moans but he’s steadfastly turned away) and is only able to fall asleep this aroused because he was awake half the night before.

He slips into a dream where he’s sitting on Ilya’s lap on the plane. Shane is naked, everyone else is fully dressed. Ilya’s hands are wrapped around Shane’s cock to protect his modesty. Suddenly, Ilya is also naked, so he puts his dick inside Shane to preserve his own modesty. The plane hits some turbulence which leads to Shane bouncing on Ilya’s cock, and his own dick sliding in Ilya’s hands. He moans at the feeling.

The Centaurs ignore their Captain and his P.A. until Boodram strikes up a conversation with Ilya. Suddenly, Ilya is more focused on someone other than on Shane. This annoys him.

-

Ilya stills inside Shane when his phone buzzes on the nightstand with a new social media alert. He makes the mistake of opening Twitter.

@MajorLeagueHockey: The MLH treats accusations of discrimination seriously and encourages players to use appropriate channels to seek recourse.

     >@MLHPA: The MLHPA would like status updates on the dozen discrimination allegations previously submitted to the MLH in the past year.

Beneath him, Shane’s sleep face is scrunched up in an adorable angry kitten scowl. He tentatively thrusts in and out again and the scowl dissipates with a contented purr.

-

Dream Ilya tells Bood to go away and focuses on Shane again. It’s a bumpy landing which feels amazing. They all file off the plane and make their way through the airport, Ilya never leaving Shane. They walk together and Shane feels his cock rub against his prostate with each step. It’s perfect. Shane feels full and complete and so so good. The bus ride is bumpy, and Shane wakes up before they reach their destination.

“Oh fuck, Ilya,” Shane groans and rolls his hips to meet Ilya’s thrusts.

“Good dreams?” Ilya murmurs in his ear. Shane is on his side with Ilya big spooning him.

“So fucking good, fuck me, please. Wanna feel you on the ice.”

Ilya doesn’t respond beyond a choked sound, and he maneuvers them so Shane’s feet are on the floor, and he’s bent over the side of the bed. Ilya pushes back home, again and again. The bed shifts a little bit with each thrust. Shane’s cock is rubbing against the mattress, and he can feel the wet spot growing.

“Fuck, I’m close,” Shane pants.

“Imagine my come dripping out of you while you play?”

That visual sends Shane over the edge and he wraps a hand around his cock to stroke through his orgasm with a yell.

“That’s it sweetheart,” Ilya growls, slamming into him with abandon. When Shane stops twitching, Ilya pulls out and finishes on Shane’s ass, aiming towards his crack.

-

The white come coating Shane’s ass is a beautiful sight. Ilya drags his cock through the mess, whispering mine to himself. They catch their breath while Ilya peppers kisses to Shane’s back.

He draws them a shower and they help clean and rinse each other, never not touching. By the end, they’re just kissing while their hands travel their arms and hips. Lips well and truly swollen, Ilya finally turns off the water and they dry off.

-

BREAKING NEWS: Metros Captain, Alternate Captain, and Three Players Suspended

Gilbert Comeau (Captain), Patrice Drapeau (Alternate Captain), Eric Laine (Defence), Daniel Gagnon (Defence), and Owen Schneider (Forward) are suspended until further notice. The Montreal Metros Captain was pulled over in Ottawa on Sunday morning for stunt driving, which impounded the vehicle and left the Captain without a license. It is not known why this group was heading to Ottawa, but early reports suggest a correlation between their actions and the cheating allegations put forward by Ottawa Centaurs Alternate Captain (and former Montreal Metros Captain) Shane Hollander.

What does this mean for the Metros?

Their main goalie is out along with most of their first and second line defence. Can Montreal still clinch a wildcard spot heading into the playoffs?

-

Metrois

JJ, #16: Wow
JJ, #16: Today was actually a good practice?

Hayden: Most of the assholes gone. Theriault away dealing with them. I haven’t had this much fun playing hockey in a long time. Let’s enjoy it while it lasts, I guess.

Shane: My mother is on a warpath. Maybe she can keep these guys from ever playing again?

JJ, #16: Yesss Mrs. Hollander is ON IT!

Hayden: please please please please

-

Game time sees Ilya watching from the locker room. He finds a comfy chair in an abandoned unlocked room and sets himself up by the live feed TV. He could have stayed at the hotel, but with everything happening, he was loath to be far from Shane.

Harris 🍎🍏: Are you with Shane?

Ilya: He’s waiting in the tunnel about to go on ice.

Harris 🍎🍏: tell him it’s bad news from the Colorado rep. just got word. Their captain gave a speech in the room. Bad!!!

Ilya doesn’t respond. He flies out of the room and hoofs it to the tunnel. Security tries to stop him, but Shane hears the commotion since he’s near the back of the pack, and he walks over, tall and imposing wearing full gear.

“He’s with me.”

Security lets him step forward.

“Shane. Harris texted. Rep got hold of him. It will be brutal,” is all Ilya feels comfortable saying with Security hovering nearby. He nods his head and has no time to respond. He turns to Bood to relay the message and sees the information being passed down.

It’s not like the team weren’t prepared, but now they won’t be giving Colorado the benefit of the doubt. Back in the locker room, Ilya is no longer sitting back, relaxing. He’s on the edge of his seat.

Ilya: message shared. What is social media response?

Harris 🍎🍏: still mostly positive, though there’s more and more speculation about Shane
Harris 🍎🍏: no other full MLH teams posted a response, but there’ve been individuals
Harris 🍎🍏: interestingly other sports have joined in! Toronto Blue Birds (baseball), Ottawa Lumberjacks (football), and all the PWHL teams! ALL OF THEM!

Ilya: very good!
Ilya: you are watching game?

Harris 🍎🍏: half watching, half scrolling. I need two pairs of eyes and two brains.

Ilya: $20 Colorado drops gloves first

Harris 🍎🍏: of course they will! I’m not betting against that! How about, $20 says it happens in the first period

Ilya: deal

Ilya: shane skates so beautifully

Harris 🍎🍏: …

Ilya: when you get MLH boyfriend I will let you ramble about how hot he is

Harris 🍎🍏: I wish!! I did meet someone, though
Harris 🍎🍏: we exchanged numbers!

Ilya: I must meet this person, make sure he is good enough for you

Harris 🍎🍏: let me go on a date and get laid first

The game continues, hits seemingly harder than usual, but no fights in the first period. The second period gets even rougher, with more and more penalties called on both sides. Finally, near the start of the third period, something happens.

Ilya: DID YOU SEE THAT

Harris 🍎🍏: WTF
Harris 🍎🍏: get up get up get up
Harris 🍎🍏: oh fuck, PUNCH HIM IN THE FACE

Ilya: that’s my good boy 🥵
Ilya: you owe me $20!

WAGs
Caitlin (Dykstra): Roz are you there?? Please give me updates!!

Ilya (Hollander): I am! I will text you when he comes to locker room.

Cassie (Boodram): that high sticking was crazy, poor Evan!

Selena (Chouinard): So glad that asshole got ejected! And good for Hollander, that punch was 🔥🔥🔥

Ilya (Hollander): mine

The replay shows Dykstra getting high sticked in the face so hard he drops to the ice and stays there, hand covering his face. The whistle blows but Hollander skates towards Dykstra and the Colorado player. The other player doesn’t see it coming when Shane skates in front of him, drops his gloves and punches him in the face. The player drops. More whistles blow as Colorado players come for Hollander, but Boodram, Dillon, and Chouinard are already there to protect Hollander.

Ilya watches the replay again in slow motion. Shane skates towards Dykstra, before passing the Colorado player he drops his glove gracefully and in one motion uses his momentum to power through the punch. The player’s head is moved back and to the side at the same time gravity takes charge and he falls on his back.

Shane gets a 5-minute penalty while the Colorado player is ejected from the game. Dykstra skates off the ice to polite applause, medics on either side of him. Ilya will see him in the locker room soon enough to assess the damage himself. The game finally continues and no one scores during the penalty kill.

Sure enough, ten minutes later he comes in with a black eye and a nasty cut that’s been taped up. He’s holding an ice pack to his face, and he seems to be missing a tooth.

“Dykstra, let me know if I can help you,” Ilya offers.

“Thanks man,” he slurs slightly due to the missing tooth, “wouldn’t mind help getting my jersey and chest pads off.”

Ilya maneuvers the jersey around Evan’s face to avoid brushing against it.

“Why did he high stick you?”

“They’ve been chirping us all game. Calling us fairies and whatever. We didn’t care until they targeted Hollander. The one who hit me said he’d “shove his stick up Shane’s ass, bet he’d like that” and I told him he’d be dead before he got close. Then the high stick.”

“You are good man, Dykstra. What should I tell Caitlin? She messaged the WAG chat.”

“Tell her I’ll have a sexy new scar, and I’ll call her from the hotel tonight.”

-

Harris

Harris is clipping the punch from all available angles and adding LL COOL J’s “Mama Said Knock You Out” overtop.

🎶Don’t call it a comeback, I’ve been here for years🎶

Within twenty minutes of the punch happening, Harris has the video uploaded to all Ottawa Centaurs social media profiles. Harris couldn’t be more thrilled. They can show that the Centaurs is a welcoming place and that doesn’t make them weak.

The response was immediate with what seems like half of Ottawa reposting it within the first 10 minutes. Harris wasn’t unused to viral posts (hell, the Put A Finger Down video is still in the spotlight!) but the speed at which this particular video spread everywhere was new and exciting. He couldn’t hope to keep up with the comments. If there were any negative reactions, Harris didn’t find them in the avalanche of positive ones. Harris is still in the zone when the game ends and has no idea Ottawa won until a bunch of people in the comments mentioned it. He confirms the score and posts another update.

@OttawaCentaursMLH: 3 – 1 💅🏒😎. Dykstra expected to make full recovery in two weeks 💪.

Harris goes back to Instagram when his phone vibrates.

Andy (Coffee Shop): You must be so proud of your boys! I’m sure you are busy. I watched the game and thought of you 😊

Harris: If my pride could be turned into energy, I’d have enough to power every household in Ottawa for the rest of time.

Andy (Coffee Shop): I bet!
Andy (Coffee Shop): when you’re done being a viral hit, maybe we can get another coffee sometime?

Harris: I’d love that!

The Centaurs won, Shane punched an asshole, Harris’ clip went viral, and he secured himself a date with a good-looking man. His cheeks are sore from all the smiling.

-

Shane walks into the locker room and the first thing he sees is Ilya standing there with an ice pack. He smiles wide and enjoys the slight pink blushing Ilya’s cheeks. Ilya leans in to say something low in Shane’s ear.

“That was the hottest punch I’ve ever seen.”

It’s Shane’s turn to blush. Ilya steps back with his half-smile and wide pupils before heading out of the locker room. Shane takes a steadying breath to keep his dick in check before undressing and hopping in the shower.

Clean and dressed, Shane sits down next to Dykstra.

“Hey man, I’m sorry you got hurt.”

“Not your fault. That guy is an asshole.”

“Still. I appreciate you sticking up for me,” Shane says, earnestly.

““Sticking up”? Really, Hollander! Too soon!” Dykstra jokes and they both chuckle. Shane lightly claps him on the back, they get up, grab their bags, and head to the bus with the rest of the team.

“The best part of all their heckling,” Shane moans while Ilya is fingering him open, “was I could still feel you. They called me a cocksucker, and I felt you in my throat. They called me a fag, and I felt you in my ass. I think you’re my good luck charm.”

Shane can sense Ilya’s growing urgency when the soft kisses he was pressing to Shane’s chest turned into bites.

“Next time you can remember my tongue in your ass,” Ilya all but growls as he replaces his fingers with his tongue. Shane might be making noises, he’s not sure, because all he can focus on is Ilya. Ilya’s moans as he eats Shane out. Ilya’s fingers as they dig into Shane’s thighs. Ilya’s breath against his sensitive skin. And Ilya’s tongue. God, Ilya’s tongue. Shane loves how it feels, so wet and warm and flexible. Ilya is swirling it around and Shane sees stars.

“Fuck. What the fuck. Don’t stop,” Shane babbles. Ilya’s grip on Shane’s legs tightens and Shane can see Ilya humping the bed to get some friction on his cock. The sight almost brings him over the edge.

“Close,” Shane gasps out. Ilya gives him one last lick and kiss over his hole and scrambles up to grab the bottle of lube. Shane pants in frustration as his orgasm recedes. He watches Ilya stroke himself and can’t imagine a more beautiful sight.

Ilya hooks Shane’s ankles on his shoulders and guides his cock inside Shane. This feeling of fullness never gets old. He only feels complete when Ilya’s dick is inside him. Every thought flies out of his head, leaving only Ilya. If Ilya told him to walk down the hall naked with his hard on, he would. So when Ilya says, “Don’t come”, Shane has no choice but to obey.

Ilya’s hips roll into Shane, Ilya’s hands are supporting Shane’s ass, and Ilya’s mouth is open and panting. Shane’s hands are holding onto Ilya’s thighs for dear life and when he feels his orgasm on the cusp again, he warns Ilya.

Ilya slams into him and stills.

“Doing so good for me, sweetheart. I’m close, too. I will tell you when to come. Then I will lick your chest clean. And then I will come in your mouth,” Ilya explains. Shane loves clear instructions and a good plan. He nods fervently, desire setting his entire body on fire.

Ilya snaps his hips, his cock brushing against Shane’s prostate again and again. He almost can’t handle it, but Ilya hasn’t said he could come, yet. He feels a tear track down to his temple and wonders when his eyes started watering.

“So fucking hot, Shane. Crying on my dick. Come. Come, now.”

Shane sighs in relief, finally letting go. The sigh turns into a groan as his orgasm seems to last forever and yet is over too soon. His come covers his chest and Ilya, as promised, leaves Shane’s hole. Before he can moan the loss, Ilya is lapping up the come. Shane’s cock twitches as he watches. He memorizes this moment so he can think about it if he’s ever alone in the shower.

Ilya swipes his tongue one last time before straddling Shane’s chest. Shane opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out a little to make sure he doesn’t miss a drop. Ilya’s hand pumps his cock once, twice, and then he’s coming with a grunt. He pumps through his orgasm, letting the tip rest on Shane’s tongue. Shane closes his mouth around it and swallows, using his tongue to massage Ilya’s slit between streams.

“God, Shane,” Ilya pants out.

He shimmies down and collapses on Shane like a weighted blanket. Shane wraps his arms around him to help keep himself grounded. If Ilya left right now Shane might float away. Ilya is whispering sweet words into his skin and Shane absorbs each of them.

“So good to me.”

“Listen so well.”

“Love you so much.”

“Want this every night.”

“You did perfect.”

One of Ilya’s hands massages through Shane’s hair. He’s not sure how long he was out of it, but when he feels like he’s present in his body again and can use his own muscles, he opens his eyes. When had he even closed them?

“Hi,” Ilya says, smiling at him when he notices Shane’s watching him.

“Hi,” Shane smiles back. “I love you.”

Ilya’s eyes sparkle.

“I love you, too.”

Ilya kisses him tenderly on the lips. His soft lips brushing against Shane’s once then dips in again for another, before pulling away with a quiet smacking sound. Ilya rolls off Shane but doesn’t go far. He lies on his back and tucks Shane into his side. Shane rests his arm on Ilya’s chest, his leg tangled between Ilya’s, kisses his pec once, then closes his eyes again.

“Goodnight, Ilya.”

“Goodnight, Shane.”

Shane feels a set of lips kissing the crown of his head before drifting off to sleep.

-

The next morning, Ilya is sitting at the edge of the bed reading an article on his phone, his hands shaking.

BREAKING NEWS: Metros Captain Charged with Impaired Driving

An anonymous source inside the Ontario Provincial Police confirmed that there is enough evidence to suggest the driver, along with the other occupants of the vehicle, had been drinking that night. No confirmation on whether a road-side breathalyzer was conducted. More on this story as it develops.

Ilya is no longer in the hotel room.

Instead, he is twelve years old again, waiting at the arena alone since all the other kids were picked up by their parents. Irina Rozanova is never late. Ilya knows something is wrong, but what can he do? He goes inside and asks to use a phone. He calls the house and no one answers. He calls again. And again. And again. Finally, his brother picks up the phone.

“What!?”

“Alexei? Mama is not here yet. Is she still home?”

“She left an hour ago. You are clearly blind. Go to parking lot.”

“I did. She’s not here.”

“Keep waiting. Maybe she went to the store. Don’t be such a baby.”

Alexei hangs up. Ilya’s heart is racing at that point, so he calls one of the numbers he has memorized, Svetlana.

“Vetrov,” barks a voice Ilya is familiar with.

“Hi Mr. Vetrov, it’s Ilya. Is Sveta there, please?”

“No, she is out at the mall. What number is this? I do not recognize it.”

“Ah, it is the arena, sir. My mother has not picked me up yet and I don’t know why. I called home and Alexei said she left already. Mama is never late.”

Mr. Vetrov must have heard the wobble Ilya couldn’t hide from his voice.

“I am not busy. I will come get you and we will find her,” Mr. Vetrov says in a voice that meant it was not a request. This was happening.

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

Mr. Vetrov arrives fifteen minutes later to find Ilya still waiting on the curb. Ilya tosses his bag in the trunk and gets in the front seat. They take the most obvious route between Ilya’s house and the arena but are stuck in traffic. There seems to be an accident up ahead. Ilya’s heart is thumping out of his chest. He knew it. He knew it. He knew it.

Before Mr. Vetrov could prevent it, Ilya throws open the door when the car comes to a complete stop again. He runs to the crash site, just a block ahead. Two vehicles collided and the police are taping off the area while trying to detour traffic. Ilya runs under the tape and hears his father barking orders at his subordinates. Ilya ignores him and runs to the silver car in the wreckage. His eyes focus on the blonde curls visible between cracks in the front window. The car was T-boned by a black vehicle striking the driver’s side.

He hears shouting in the distance. He sees men in uniforms running toward him in his peripheral vision. But Ilya had always been fast. He makes it to the passenger side door, which is already open, yelling for his mother. He sees her and wishes her eyes were closed so he could pretend she was sleeping.

When the men in uniform finally reach him, he doesn’t put up a fight. What does anything matter, anymore?

“Ilya!”

His father is there beside him. No word of comfort or hug comes his way. His mother is the hugger. Was. Papa lays a hand on his shoulder and tells him to go home and wait for him there. His voice is harsh and angry. Ilya is numb. He can’t look back. He doesn’t want to remember his mother like that. He wanders.

Mr. Vetrov finds him a few blocks away, leads him back to the car, and drives him home. It doesn’t feel like home anymore, though.

That night, Papa comes back and explains that a drunk driver hit Mama’s car and she didn’t survive. The drunk driver did. Papa was going to make him regret his choices. Alexei took up drinking. Ilya had a panic attack the next time he went to the arena and quit hockey right then. Papa, who never really liked his wife to begin with, performed grief. He didn’t perform anger, though. That came naturally. How dare someone kill his wife? When Ilya was finally old enough, he left Russia and never looked back.

-

“Ilya?” Shane asks softly. Ilya is staring off into space. Shane comes around and reads the headline on his phone. Immediately, he straddles his boyfriend and kisses his forehead and rocks him back and forth. Ilya’s arms wrap around him almost absent-mindedly. It takes a minute, but Shane hears Ilya’s breath hitch and then he’s crying and holding Shane tight. Shane squeezes harder.

“I’m here. It’s okay. Let it out. I’m here,” Shane murmurs. It takes a while, but Ilya’s breathing eventually returns to normal. He wipes his face with his own shirt and Shane leans down to kiss him.

“Sorry,” Ilya’s voice lacks the confidence Shane is used to.

“No. Never apologize for this, okay?”

Ilya nods, his head resting in the cradle of Shane’s shoulder and neck.

“We don’t need to talk about it now, but I’ve been thinking about starting a charity for a while. I want to do hockey camps for kids over the summer, but I wasn’t sure what to raise money for. What if we focused on raising money for victims and families of drunk driving accidents? And maybe You Can Play for LGBT kids in sports?” Shane rambles.

Ilya sits up and is staring at him with what Shane hopes is wonder. He’s nodding slowly.

“Yes. I could help with this,” Ilya offers with a hesitation in his voice.

“Help? We can do it together. We’d both be CEO’s or whatever you call the head of a charity. Let’s be honest, of the two of us, I think the person who is only “helping” is me,” Shane says with a smile and kiss. Ilya smiles into the kiss and holds him tighter.

“You would be Founder, I could be CEO,” Ilya explains.

“Yes, exactly! What do you say?”

“You do not want me to be your Personal Assistant anymore?” Ilya asks with soft eyes.

“Oh, no, I definitely need you to be my personal assistant. But if we’re doing this charity thing, maybe I can slow down or stop doing brand deals. With those off the table, my schedule isn’t as crazy. You could do both?”

“You just want me on the road with you,” Ilya teases, coming back to himself, and Shane smiles.

“Absolutely.”

“I will do research first and let you know answer,” Ilya says, kissing Shane’s nose.

“Okay.”

“Okey.”

Chapter End Notes

Next chapter is the last chapter (for real this time!)

Sequel title I'm tossing around: CEO Wanted.
Originally I wanted to keep the "P.A." part but can't think of a good second word. P.A. Promoted? P.A. Forever?

 

Follow me on Threads for updates and sequel announcements!
@stephsnerdkingdom

Chapter 23: Coming Out

Chapter Summary

Previously on P.A. Wanted: The Metros make some terrible decisions; the Centaurs start a social media campaign; Harris meets someone; Shane asks Ilya to be the CEO of a charity he wants to start.

In today's episode: I think the chapter title says it all!

Chapter Notes

Harris

Harris is running around. No one is saying it out loud, of course, but everyone knows this is the last game of the playoffs. Ottawa is playing New York, who’s up 3-1 in the series. They’ve been on fire lately, like Hunter has something to prove.

They’re going into the third period, with a score of 2-1 for the Admirals. Harris has several draft posts saved, and he’s ready to take the video Shane Hollander requested of him.

Usually, after the last game, Harris is able to take some time off. That will not be in the cards after tonight.

Andy (Coffee Shop): as a Cens fan, this is already further than we’ve gotten in years!
Andy (Coffee Shop): Can’t wait to see you tomorrow!

Harris: Hi! I can’t go into details, but there’s a chance I won’t be able to make it tomorrow anymore 😔
Harris: You’ll see why shortly after the game!
Harris: I’ll call you when I’m free?

Andy (Coffee Shop): Sure

Harris cringes but doesn’t have time to worry about that right now. There’s only two minutes left in the game, and he has to keep the journalists at bay for Shane. Now, where is Rozanov?

He checks the locker room and sighs in relief when he sees the Russian man pacing.

“Not having second thoughts I hope?” Harris half-jokes, half-pleads.

“No! No, no. Just. Nervous?” Ilya says, stopping his pacing but moving his hands like he doesn’t know what to do with them.

Harris walks over and squeezes his shoulder in support.

“You’ve got this. As soon as you see him, all those nerves will go away, and you’ll just act normal.”

The sound from the arena breaks into the locker room. Both heads turn to the TV and catch the handshake line. The Admirals move forward. Ottawa’s year is done. Harris opens one of his drafts and posts it.

@OttawaCentaursMLH: First playoff run in over a decade! Well done, Centaurs! Congratulations to the New York Admirals who will be moving forward.

Then he scrambles to the hallway to start the video.

The team members walk past the camera, all looking tired but proud of their efforts, even though they lost. They fist bump the videographer on their way inside the locker room. The video then focuses on Hollander, #24, the second last member to enter the room. Hollander walks up to his stall, sits, and removes his skates. He stands as a man walks up to him.

The man rests both hands on Hollander’s jaw and says something quietly to the hockey player. Hollander smiles and his hands land naturally on the man’s waist. They lean into each other and kiss gently. The video zooms out to include the rest of the locker room as the team chats, laughs, removes their top layers, and otherwise has no reaction to the two men kissing in their midst.

That is, until Bood throws hockey tape at Hollander. Hollander steps back, laughing.

“Stop kissing your hot boyfriend, it’s your turn to make a post-game speech!”

Hollander and the boyfriend smile at each other before Hollander addresses the team.

“We made it to the playoffs not because I transferred in March, but because we worked hard together as a team. With more time, we’ll go even further. I can’t wait to play a full season with everyone in this room. Take time to rest and be ready to work hard in September for training camp. Go Cens go!”

“Go Cens go!” the team cheers back.

Harris ends the video and rushes to his laptop in the boardroom next door to hastily edit. Ilya finds him there after a few minutes.

“Was okay?”

“It was perfect! You guys look very sweet together,” Harris confirms.

“Good, good,” Ilya says, resuming his pacing.

Shane comes in after his shower and closes the door behind him. He reaches Ilya and leans in, Ilya’s arm wraps around him. Harris has a pang of jealousy. Maybe Andy can be that person for Harris?

“Okay. I think it’s done. Check it out,” Harris says and presses play. They watch, give their approval and sneak out with the team, avoiding the press that Harris stationed out of sight.

[video]
@OttawaCentaursMLH: Even when we lose, we win. #HockeyIsForEveryone 🏒🏳️‍🌈

Harris takes a deep excited breath and hits post.

-

@OttawaBabe: LET’S GOOOOOOO 🏳️‍🌈

@ThirstyBee: 🏳️‍🌈 🏳️‍🌈 🏳️‍🌈 🏳️‍🌈 🏳️‍🌈

@GrandpaWallace: no one needs to see this

@MontrealMatt: sooo the metros were right?

BeGayDoCr1mes: #HockeyIsForEveryone

@HaydenPikeWinger: When are you guys coming over for dinner? #HockeyIsForEveryone

@JJBoiziau16: Sexyyyy #HockeyIsForEveryone

@RealZaneBoodram: Does the back of my head really look like that? Oh well, I have the best Alternate Captain out there! #HockeyIsForEveryone

@WHayesGoalie: Love you, bros! #HockeyIsForEveryone

@YunaHollander: See you boys for dinner Friday night? #HockeyIsForEveryone

@DavidHollander60: Don’t forget to bring that good vodka! #HockeyIsForEveryone

@HockeyGuy76: keep this out of the locker room!

@Wilzon: does this mean the others can bring their wives and girlfriends in the locker room now too?
>@NickChouinardOfficial: Yes? Why shouldn’t they be?
>@DillonTanner: If they want to be in a smelly room full of their friends, that’s on them.

@CassieSoonToB: @IlyaRozanov81 has been a great addition to the WAG chat!! #HockeyIsForEveryone
>@SelenaHockeyWife: Do we officially update the name now?
>>@IlyaRozanov81: No! I want to be a WAG!! Guyfriend? It works, yes?
>>>@CaitlinDykstra: What if you get married one day? 👀
>>>>@IlyaRozanov81: Okay okay. SWAGs! Spouses, Wives and Girl/Guyfriends!
>>>>>@CassieSoonToB: @IlyaRozanov81, the SWAGs have voted and the name change is approved. Welcome to the SWAG chat!
>>>>>>@IlyaRozanov81: 🥹

@UsernamesRDum: stop trying to normalize this

@CensFanAccount: I’m so proud of my Centaurs! #HockeyIsForEveryone

-

[picture of Shane and Ilya]
@ShaneHollanderHockey24: I am gay. I’m coming out not because of rumours or pressure from others, but because I finally feel safe to do so. I hope by coming out I can change perceptions and inspire the next generation to play this game I love so much, regardless of their sexuality. I am gay, I am half-asian. Neither of these facts have stopped me from winning the cup three times and leading the league in points for the sixth year in a row. Also, my boyfriend is very hot, and I don’t care what anyone thinks. @IlyaRozanov81, what’s for dinner? ❤️ #HockeyIsForEveryone

@IlyaRozanov81: ❤️❤️🥵🥵
@Hot4Hollander: So it’s too late to shoot my shot?
>@IlyaRozanov81: yes, mine, no touching. No looking. Go away.
>>@Hot4Hollander: 😒
@YunaHollander: So proud of my son and everything he’s achieved. Every mother thinks their son is the best, but mine has a trophy room that proves he’s the best hockey player in a generation. And his boyfriend is wonderful, too. #HockeyIsForEveryone
>@IlyaRozanov81: thank you Mama Hollander!
@DavidHollander60: Proud of you, son! Also proud of you, Shane!
>@IlyaRozanov81: PAPA
@RoseLandryOfficial: So proud of you, bestie!! Can I now share that I was an INTEGRAL part in you guys getting together? ❤️🏳️‍🌈 💅
>@ShaneHollanderHockey24: I mean, we were already together on New Years where I met you… but you do get credit for helping us orchestrate our romantic new year’s kiss!
>>@RoseLandryOfficial: INTEGRAL. PART.
>>@JJBoiziau16: Mon ami please I’m begging you
>>>@ShaneHollanderHockey24: Integral part 🙄❤️
>>>>@RoseLandryOfficial: 😌😇

-

At Monk’s, Shane and Ilya sit next to each other in the booth, surrounded by Shane’s teammates and their wives. He’s quickly learning to see them all as friends. As Shane looks around, he notices a lot of the SWAGs are sitting on their husbands’ laps. Could Shane…? Technically Ilya is the SWAG, but…

Ilya has his elbows on the table, hands on his drink. Shane gently pulls the glass away which makes Ilya look at him questioningly. He lightly presses against Ilya’s sternum, forcing him to sit back. Instinctively, Ilya moves one arm around Shane and smiles. It’s nice, but it’s not what he wants. He keeps going.

Shane shimmies, thankful that the table is high enough and should allow both of their bulky frames to fit underneath. He plops himself down on Ilya, the same way the girls are doing it. Shane’s confidence is marred slightly by embarrassment. Is this too much? Luckily, Ilya’s bright smile expels any doubts, and Shane sinks into the feeling of having Ilya wrapped around him and below him, in front of people. He’s staking his claim.

No one at the table says anything about it, but Lisa looks over and gives him a knowing smile. Ilya chats with Hayes about superhero movies while Shane finishes his end-of-the-season beer. The girls order a couple bottles of wine for the table, and Shane decides to partake. He’s never been in a public place where he didn’t have to hide anything from anyone. Who cares if he gets drunk in public? There are no more secrets to accidentally spill.

He’s chatting with Selena about cottage maintenance when the bar music switches over to dance music. Monk’s is more packed than usual, probably thanks to the Centaurs being there after their final game. Ilya squeezes Shane’s waist to get his attention.

“Dance with me, sweetheart?”

Shane smiles. They don’t need to worry about images leaking. They don’t need to strategize about being surrounded by Centaurs to provide cover.

“Hell yes,” Shane says, knowing Ilya will make up for Shane’s mediocre dancing skills. They slide out of the booth (Wyatt and Lisa scoot over to let them out) and Ilya holds his hand, leading him to the dancefloor. Shane doesn’t recognize the song, but Ilya’s grabs Shane’s waist and leans his forehead in. Shane meets him there, thrilled that they are basically the same height. He places his own hands on Ilya’s biceps. The crowd is going crazy. It must be a good song.

“Follow my lead,” Ilya says as he moves them to the beat. Shane gets into the rhythm and Ilya’s hands start moving up his sides, down his back, one hand creeping lower to his ass while the other travels up his abs to his pecs, his thumbs brushing Shane’s nipple. Shane hopes getting hard on the dancefloor is a normal reaction, but after a beer and two glasses of wine, he’s not overly worried about it. Shane lets go of everything, trusting Ilya to keep him in one piece.

Shane’s hands wander over Ilya’s body. He may not be the type to grab Ilya’s ass in public (yet…), but he can certainly move one hand to Ilya’s neck and the other to Ilya’s chest. They’ve both been smiling the entire time, but this move makes Ilya’s smile even brighter somehow. Shane feels giddy.

The crowd is definitely getting louder. Shane turns his head to see if there’s some sort of commotion, but Ilya’s hand is right there to grab his chin and keep him focused on him. Oh well, whatever’s happening can’t be important. Only Ilya is important. And making Ilya feel good. Last time they danced, Shane faced the other way and they were grinding. Before he can commit to turning around (if Ilya would even let him), Ilya kisses his neck. Shane closes his eyes to focus on the soft lips which turns into sucking. A hickey! He’s giving Shane a hickey! Shane tries to feel annoyed by this but instead he finds it endearing. Let Ilya claim him. How many times has he had to see other players sporting hickeys over the years? He never thought it was classy, but he’s also never wanted to be branded before either. Shane would get a tattoo of Ilya’s name if he asked him.

Ilya’s kisses the spot gently after, then brushes his lips up his neck to kiss the sensitive spot right below his ear. Shane sighs in contentment. The music drops away and a DJ gets on the microphone.

“Good evening, Ottawa! Tonight we have special guests in the house! Please welcome the Ottawa Centaurs, who made us proud by making it to the playoffs for the first time in thirteen years!”

The crowd roars its approval while Shane smiles and holds on to Ilya. His boyfriend kisses his temple.

“And in case you somehow missed it, Ottawa’s own Shane Hollander bravely came out after the game by kissing his boyfriend on camera, making him the first openly queer player in the MLH!”

Shane takes in the happy cheers and lets the sound and positivity wash over him. He squeezes Ilya to keep him grounded and feels a kiss on his forehead.

-

Ilya notices a couple tables of men get up and slink out of the bar. Good riddance. He tightens his hold on Shane and smiles at him.

“Tonight is now a Pride Night! Come to the booth beside the bathrooms and grab a rainbow glow stick for $5! Proceeds go to Kind Space! Now, who’s ready to dance?!”

-

The music jumps back in with a heavy beat and Shane lets himself enjoy the feeling of his boyfriend’s arms around him, surrounded by good people.

Hayes finds them on the dancefloor and gives them both rainbow glowstick rings that they put around their necks. Shane’s never been much for fanfare but tonight all the normal rules are out the window.

Shane has a sudden thought. While staying in Ilya’s arms, he pulls out his phone from his pocket.

Shane: I’m sure you’re busy but you have to come to Monk’s!

Harris: Who do you think brought the rainbow glowsticks??

Sure enough, a minute later Harris finds them on the dancefloor. Ilya lets go of Shane to give Harris a hug then returns his arms right where they belong. Shane squeezes Harris’ shoulder.

“Thank you for everything, Harris.”

“Are you kidding? I’m the social media manager who got to promote the first open gay guy in the League! I should be thanking YOU!” He bellows out over the music.

-

Harris

Harris: Come to Monk’s? It’s not coffee, but the team is here and it’s a big gay party now!

Andy: OMG coming!! What a night!! No wonder you cancelled coffee tomorrow!!

Harris: Hopefully I can make up for it tonight by buying you a drink 😊

Andy: Hmmmm I might also need a dance for true forgiveness 😉

-

The rest of the night passes by in a fun blur. They keep dancing for a bit before getting Ilya another vodka and Shane another glass of wine. Shane sits himself on Ilya’s lap again and can feel Ilya’s erection pressing against his ass. If Shane adjusts his position often it’s certainly only to get more comfortable, and not to be a menace to his loving boyfriend. Ilya seems to be enjoying the torture, based on his low growls only Shane can hear.

They stumble into the apartment and the door is barely closed when Ilya shucks off his clothes but stops Shane from doing the same, for some reason.

“You are so brave, sweetheart. But I cannot overlook you grinding on my lap in front of our friends. So. As punishment. I get to grind against you while you do your normal nighttime routine. And you are not allowed to come until I say.”

Shane nods, mouth open as he takes in the sight of his very hard boyfriend.

“Good. You pretend I’m not even here.”

Shane’s somewhat drunk brain conjures up a memory of the gym during their “one week” and his dick plumps up. He heads to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water. Ilya follows and undoes Shane’s pants. He chugs the water while Ilya lowers the pants and boxers to the ground.

Shane walks out of them and makes his way to the bathroom to start his skincare routine. He bends over the sink to wash his face and is elated to feel Ilya’s wet fingers rub around his hole. Instead of moaning, (since he has to pretend Ilya is not there), he breathes very loudly. A finger slips in as he rinses his face and Shane’s eyes flutter. The finger pumps in and out and Shane needs more but he can’t ask for anything. He dries his face and squats down to the cupboard to retrieve his toner, serum, and moisturizer. Ilya squats with him. He takes his time and is rewarded with a second finger. Standing up, he feels those fingers scissoring him open. His cock is dripping and he’s dying to give himself some relief.

But Shane is a good boy.

His hands shake ever so slightly as he applies the toner to his face. He waits for it to dry and unbuttons his shirt, slipping it off. He tries not to focus on the third finger. He’s certainly not thinking about the slow rub against his prostate or Ilya’s kisses against his neck or watching the mirror as Ilya’s fingers pinch Shane’s nipple. He massages the serum into his skin and closes his eyes to block the image in the mirror of Ilya’s stupid handsome sex face. His mistake becomes immediately obvious when Ilya’s other hand leaves his nipple and suddenly strokes Shane’s cock, startling a moan out of him. He chokes it off and luckily Ilya doesn’t stop.

Until he does.

-

Ilya slicks his cock and glides it up and down Shane’s crack while Shane puts something else on his face. Ilya spreads Shane’s cheeks and pushes his way in slowly. He groans as he pulls almost all the way out before snapping in fast, taking Shane’s breath away. Shane knocks his moisturizer over when he tries to grab it. Ilya watches his boyfriend struggling to stay focused and smiles. Ilya gets a rhythm going while Shane finishes the skincare and starts brushing his teeth. The electric toothbrush’s vibrations aren’t strong enough for Ilya to feel through Shane’s body, but Shane does bend over to spit and Ilya speeds up with this better angle to play with. He loves the tight heat, he loves how well Shane takes him, and he loves how they can be adventurous.

He can’t wait to do this when they are cooking one day. Or folding laundry. He matches the pace of his strokes to the thrust of his hips, which has slowed down slightly to last longer.

-

Shane remembers his dream. Walking through the airport with Ilya inside him. He straightens up from brushing his teeth and tries to walk to the bedroom. Unfortunately, real life physics gets in the way, and Ilya slides out to let Shane walk.

Shane could read a chapter of his book in bed, though.

-

Shane grabs his sexy glasses and his book from the nightstand and Ilya understands the assignment. He sits up against the headboard and guides Shane to sit on top of him. Shane puts his glasses on and opens the book. Ilya rocks Shane forward and back and then wraps one hand around Shane’s cock again and lazily strokes. Ilya lets Shane read for a minute before needing more. He maneuvers Shane to be on his stomach, still reading his boring hockey book.

Ilya plows into him, feeling the heat build up. Shane turns a page. The sound drives Ilya mad with desire. This is the hottest body in the world, and Ilya can freely use it whenever he wants. The fact that it’s attached to the person he loves the most in the world makes it feel like he’s in heaven. Ilya kisses Shane’s back, humping him into the mattress. Shane turns another page.

They came out today. Now it’s time to come. He lifts Shane’s hips, getting him on his hands and knees, ignoring the book.

“Fuck, Shane, so fucking hot. Could fuck you anywhere, anytime. Would you like that?”

“Yeah, baby. Fuckin’ want you all the time,” Shane pants, sounding wrecked.

“You ready to come for me? Stroke yourself,” Ilya demands, sweat dripping down his forehead as he holds himself off until Shane comes.

Shane barely touches his cock before his orgasm rips through his body, squeezing Ilya’s cock so perfectly that he has no choice but to let go and spill inside Shane with his name on his lips.

“Fuck,” Ilya says, breathlessly, as he slides out and drops onto his back on the bed, avoiding the wet spot. Shane shifts and collapses on top of Ilya.

“Holy fuck, Ilya. I’ll never be able to do my skincare routine again without thinking of that.”

Ilya pats his face and smiles.

“Good,” he says, hugging Shane tight and kissing his forehead. Shane falls asleep on top of him and Ilya carefully rolls him over so they’re spooning. If Shane wakes up, he doesn’t fight it and is asleep again in moments. Ilya kisses his neck, whispering goodnight against his skin.

-

The Ottawa Centaurs take over Boodram’s living room to watch the MLH Final, New York vs LA. Shane is lucky enough to get a couch seat, and Ilya is perched on the armrest next to him. Usually, Shane likes to watch the Finals with his parents, but he wants to keep the connection going with this new team. He’s learning they do more BBQs than clubs which is just fine by Shane.

“The Admirals have it,” Shane anticipates at the top of the third period where New York is leading 2 – 1. Two minutes later, LA scores to tie the game.

“Are you still sure?” Ilya asks, nudging Shane.

“Absolutely. Hunter will get the game winning goal and Bennett isn’t letting anything else past him.”

Shane’s predictions come to fruition and with ten seconds left on the clock the crowd is going wild. The siren sounds and New York are the official MLH Cup Champions for 2017. The Ottawa Centaurs cheer for good hockey well played and most get up to grab themselves a snack or drink. Shane stays seated and Ilya takes the open seat next to him.

“You like watching the celebration?” Ilya asks.

“Yeah, look at Hunter’s face when he grabs the Cup. There’s no other feeling like it. I’ve lifted it three times and it’s special every time. That skate around the rink is so vindicating of all the effort you put in. And then there’s something very rewarding about passing it to your Alternate Captain. Sharing it with the team.”

Shane feels Ilya’s gaze, but he stays focused on the television. The families all hit the ice, and the players greet them with hugs and kisses. Shane watches Hunter looking around and taking it all in. Then Scott skates up near the boards and is waving someone down from the crowd.

“Holy shit.”

A man who must be Scott’s boyfriend is hopping the boards with awe and confusion on his face. Scott holds both of his hands and skates backwards to get closer to the gaggle of family and friends. Then, he places his hands on the man’s neck and leans down to kiss him. Passionately.

Shane is on his feet. Ilya joins him.

“Wow.”

Shane holds Ilya’s hand.

“Everyone, get back in here!” Shane calls out. Heads turn and a few walk back in, realize what they are watching, and urgently call the rest of the team back.

“Holy shit! Hollander, did you know about Hunter?” Dillon asks.

“Yeah, he told us a month ago or so. I had no idea he was planning this, though!”

“Copycat,” Ilya mutters. Shane squeezes his hand smiling even wider.

“Don’t worry Hollander, you’ll always be the first one to come out! He’s just the first one to win a Cup!”

“Have you forgotten my three cups?? I was gay then, too!” Shane says, outraged.

“Sure, but you didn’t kiss a guy on the ice,” Dillon says.

“Is okay, next year Cens win Cup, Shane kisses me on ice, I will propose to him. First gay engagement on ice. One up Scott Hunter!” Ilya exclaims. The guys all laugh but Shane whips his head to look at him.

“You’re going to propose?”

“Yes, but only if you win cup,” Ilya winks.

“Who says I won’t ask you first?” Shane says.

“Always so competitive, sweetheart,” Ilya teases him.

“Haven’t you guys been dating like barely six months?” Boodram interjects their heated staring contest.

“Is not our fault you have not asked Cassie to marry you, yet. Poor Cass…” Ilya responds.

“Shut up!” Bood says, laughing, and pushing Ilya’s shoulder. Cassie lets out a dramatic, long-suffering sigh.

The kiss gets replayed on the television and the commentators are joking that all MLH Captains might be gay, since that’s already two that have come out.

“That’s so stupid. It’s a lot easier to come out from a position of power and safety. Hunter just won them the Cup and is basically the “King of New York”. I’ve won three and am surrounded by safe people,” Shane explains, using his fingers to make the air quotes. “He obviously feels safe in his locker room to come out. Whereas a rookie has nothing to fall back on.”

Harris joins the conversation.

“That’s exactly it. A younger or mediocre player has to risk their career. At this point, both you and Hunter are established, and it would be huge news if they benched you for it. I think we’ll need another social media campaign. Madison, the New York social media manager, is messaging me. Would you be willing to post something? Some of the Captains from other teams are taking offense and posting like #StraightCaptain.”

“Absolutely.”

Shane pulls out his phone and thinks for a moment before he types. When he’s done, he shows the draft to Ilya and Harris for their approval.

@ShaneHollanderHockeyPlayer: Congrats to the Admirals on their Cup win! And welcome, @ScottHunterOfficial, to the elite club of #GayCaptainsWhoWonTheCup. #GayCaptain in 2013, 2015, 2016 when I won my Cups. It’s almost like #HockeyIsForEveryone 🏆💪

“Yes, that’s perfect!” Harris says. Shane posts it.

Shane then logs out of Twitter and lets Harris take care of the rest.

-

@RealZaneBoodram: Proud to be an #AllyCaptain🏳️‍🌈

@DallasKentHockey: Keep that off the ice! #StraightCaptain

@CliffMarleau7: If Boston had to lose, at least we lost to the Cup-winning team. Congrats to Scott Hunter and the rest of the Admirals. Oh ya, proud to be an #AllyCaptain🏳️‍🌈

@ScottHunterOfficial: @ShaneHollanderHockeyPlayer very happy to join the club! #GayCaptainsWhoWonTheCup #GayCaptain

@GoalieEricBennett: Do I need to start my own club? #BiGoaliesWhoWonTheCup
>@IlyaRozanov81: Finally, some bi representation!!

@TroyBarrettOfficial: [tweet deleted]

-

On the drive to the cottage, Shane brings up the charity again. Ilya watches the tree line for deer.

“Have you been able to do any research about a charity?”

“Some. First, it should be a foundation, not a charity. As a foundation, you would give money to whichever charities you want.”

“That makes sense.”

“You would be on the Board of Directors. Help with strategy and direction, but not involved in day to day,” Ilya continues.

“I guess I’d have to do my own galas and stuff to get donors?”

“Yes, probably. If you still want to do summer camp, you would want to be in charge of that?”

“Yeah, definitely. Like, during the season I won’t have much input about stuff other than which charities we want. But the summer I’d want to work closely with you to run the camps.”

“And you still want me?”

“Of course!” Shane says, passing a slower vehicle.

Ilya would love to be the CEO of a Foundation. But what experience does he have? He’s good at doing the work himself. He’s not sure he’d be good at delegating to other people. Other people are stupid and will do things wrong.

But what better way to help others? Instead of making one person’s life easier, he can help so many.

And if Ilya doesn’t say yes, who will Shane find instead? And then what, Ilya will have to listen to Shane gush about some other person?

No. Much better that Ilya does it himself. Ilya willfully ignores that his own jealousy is what pushes him over the edge. But he’ll need to make Shane work for the yes.

-

Shane pulls up to the cottage and watches Ilya’s face as he takes it in. His parents are the only other people that have visited it properly. There was that stupid ESPN documentary thing a couple years ago, but it really didn’t do it justice.

Ilya’s eyebrow twitches up when he sees the huge, modern house.

“You call this a cottage?”

“Shut up,” Shane smirks.

“Is lake house.”

“I mean, yeah. But we usually call your secondary property a cottage if it’s out in the woods or by a lake… I don’t make the rules!”

“Okey.”

They exit the vehicle and walk around the property. Shane points out the boat house, the artificial rink, and the bunkie.

“Now THAT is a cottage!” Ilya exclaims. “What did you call it? Bunkie?”

“That’s way too small to be a cottage!” Shane argues. “It’s basically just a bedroom and a washroom, so if I have guests over, they can have a private place to sleep.”

“And you have guests often?” Ilya asks, a knowing smile tugging at his lips.

“Shut up. You never know.”

They finally enter the house proper, and Shane gets a little nervous. He poured his heart and soul into this build, and he really hopes Ilya likes it.

“Much better,” Ilya says, under his breath.

“Better than what?”

“Montreal apartment. I was worried this would also have no character. But is very nice. Very you.”

Shane smiles.

-

Ilya takes in the wooden furniture juxtaposed with modern finishes, comfortable couches next to expensive side tables, and a very large flat screen recessed in a built-in.

Shane takes his hand and leads him to the bedroom and before Ilya can comment on the floor to ceiling windows covering two walls, Shane pulls him into the ensuite. They undress and stand under the rain shower, washing away the travel.

-

Shane rides Ilya on the bed, with the window coverings wide open. The sun is setting soon, filling the room with a glowing orange light.

“So, what do you say? Will you be my CEO?” Shane pants into Ilya’s cheek.

“Is manipulation to ah ask big questions during sex. Fuck. Everyone knows this.”

Shane huffs out a laugh, never stopping his bouncing. He’s found a great angle that hits his prostate every time Ilya thrusts up to meet him.

Ilya lets him stay on top for a few moments more before wrapping his arms around Shane’s waist and flipping them over onto Shane’s back. Ilya pulls Shane’s legs up to rest his ankles on Ilya’s shoulders. Shane will never stop doing yoga if it means he can keep doing this.

“First, you want Personal Assistant,” Ilya says in a low, dangerous voice, while thrusting inside him.

“Now you want C – E – O,” Ilya says, punctuating each letter with a snap of his hips. Shane lets out a ah ah ah with each one. He loves Ilya like this. In control. Making Shane take whatever he gives him.

“Is there anything else you want?” Ilya demands.

“Just you. I’ve only ever wanted you,” Shane responds, his hands on Ilya’s hips to encourage his movements.

“Fuck, Shane,” Ilya moans, slamming into Shane while his orgasm takes over.

“Ilya,” Shane gasps through his own release.

Shane has the entire summer to persuade Ilya, and he is not above employing dirty tricks.

-

If Shane wants to spend the summer trying to convince Ilya to do something he already wants to do, who is Ilya to stop him? Ilya is about to have the best summer of his life.

Chapter End Notes

FIN

I want to thank each and every one of you for reading my story! I've loved reading your comments; it's so validating to know I'm not alone!

Subscribe to me if you want to be notified about the sequel, CEO Wanted! Some things to look forward to:

- How will Ilya handle being a CEO?
- Will either of them propose, and if so, who does it first?
- Harris is seeing Andy... what happens when Troy joins the team?
- What happens to the Metros?
- How does the League/Commissioner react?

<3 <3 <3

Works inspired by this one

ePub Cover inspired by "P.A. Wanted" by HeatedKingdom by sk_inspired (skargasm), skargasm