Preface

Secrets
Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at https://archiveofourown.org/works/87981336.

Rating:: Explicit
Archive Warning:: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category:: M/M
Fandoms:: Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types, Heated Rivalry (TV), heated rivalry - Fandom
Relationship:: Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov
Characters:: Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Montreal Voyageurs | Montreal Metros Team Ensemble (Game Changers), Svetlana Vetrova, Yuna Hollander, David Hollander
Additional Tags:: Anal Sex, Anal Play, Oral Sex, Light Dom/sub, Light BDSM, Sex Work, Internalized Homophobia, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Homosexuality, Bisexual Male Character, Inspired by Heated Rivalry (TV), Homophobic Language, domestic abuse, Suicide, Violent Death, Child Abandonment, reference to child prostitution, physical violence, Homelessness, Political Asylum, Ilya Rozanov Loves Shane Hollander, Top Ilya Rozanov, Soft Dom Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander Loves Ilya Rozanov, Soft Ilya Rozanov, Bottom Shane Hollander, Sub Shane Hollander, Good Friend Svetlana Vetrova, Ilya Rozanov & Svetlana Vetrova Friendship, Bisexual Svetlana Vetrova, Svetlana Vetrova Finds Out About Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Svetlana Vetrova is a Queen!, Ilya Rozanov is Shane Hollander's Gay Awakening, HEA, Happy Ending, Happily Ever After
Language:: English
Stats:: Published: 2026-07-05 Completed: 2026-09-16 Words: 66,600 Chapters: 22/22

Secrets

Summary

Notes

Inspired by a work in an unrevealed collection

Chapter 1

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

“There is no fucking way you are getting me in there.” Shane looked up at the sign: “Secrets” glowing neon in the dark Montreal street.

“Don’t be a baby, Hollander.” J.J. chirped, “It is a right of passage, all rookies come here on their 18th birthday.”

“I do not want to see strippers.” Shane whined and then sighed heavily. He knew he wasn’t going to win this one. He’d already been reluctant to let his teammates take him out for the first birthday where he could legally buy alcohol, but didn’t want to appear too out of touch. There were rumors he was being considered for the Captain position already and he needed to show up for the guys.

“I’ll buy you a lap dance.” Hayden declared cheerfully as he slapped him on his back “A private one, if you prefer.” He waggled his eyebrows and Shane groaned.

“Don’t you dare… Look ok… I’ll go in, but no lap dances for me ok? Try it and I’m leaving.”

J.J. cheered and guided Shane to the door “I think you’ll be surprised, it’s not what you think.”

The group now consisted of Shane, Hayden, J.J and Drapeau, after most of the others had cried off at one of the 4 bars they had hit before this one. Shane was significantly buzzed despite trying to be careful with how much he’d drank and he didn’t have it in him to fight anymore. He followed J.J. through the door into the dark corridor, lit with dim blue lights, making everyone look a little sick. They paid their entry and checked their coats before moving further through the corridor into what he assumed was the main room. It was not much brighter, with loud music playing and booths set on two different levels in a semi circle surrounding what appeared to be a stage. Two barely clad women danced provocatively in cages at each side of the stage and two similarly clad men danced in cages at the back.

Shane took it all in, as the group were led to a booth in the lower level, right in front of the stage. J.J. looked like he might explode from excitement. “That’s what I’m talking about, front and center baby!”

Shane wanted to crawl into a hole.

A server approached, a young woman, covered a little more than the dancers but not by much. Shane noticed she wore a leather collar around her neck.

“Just in time for the show boys, what can I get you?” she asked. The group ordered another round of cocktails containing mystery syrupy sweet ingredients. The server headed up to the bar at the back of the room and Shane leaned with his elbows on the table, looking around nervously. He felt a hand on his back and turned to Hayden.

“Relax Hollander, we got you buddy, they don’t even do lap dances here anymore. It’s a different kind of club now, but we just never found anywhere better for an 18th.”

Shane let out a breath and allowed himself to sit back and smile at his buddies “I do appreciate you doing this for me tonight guys, thank you.”

The drinks arrived just in time for Drapeau to lift his glass in the air and shout “To the birthday boy! Shane Fucking Hollander, best Center in the NHL and most likely to die a Virgin!”

Shane would have curled up and died but was buzzed enough to just retort with “Fuck off Drapeau” as the lights suddenly changed. The stage area was lit with red lighting and the music changed to a wordless but intense heavy beat. Shane could feel his heart begin to match it, in anticipation of whatever it was he would see here.

Two muscled, leather clad men brought out a large wooden X shaped cross with leather straps. Then they left the stage.

“Ladies and Gentlemen.” An announcement echoed around the room. “Tonight a Master will demonstrate punishment and pleasure for your entertainment. Be assured, all actions are performed with full consent of all involved and safety protocols in place.”

Shane was puzzled, what the hell was this? Some kind of theatre? He’d always believed this was a strip joint. He leaned into Hayden and whispered “What the fuck?” just as a man… Well he looked around Shane’s age so, a boy stepped onto the stage area dressed in tight leather shorts that left little to the imagination. He had dark hair and a hairless body, not overly muscular but lean and well built. His feet were bare and his eyes looked down at the stage, never once looking up to the audience.

People, men and women, in other booths applauded and chatted excitedly. Then HE stepped out. Easily 6’3” and what looked like 100% muscle covered in leather. His pants were skin tight, almost down to his ankles. His jacket fit against his torso like it had been made for him, for his broad shoulders and tiny waist. He couldn’t be more than 25 years old, Shane thought, but he carried himself like a man of the world. His hair was dark blonde and curly on top, with the sides shaved close and his eyes… Shane felt like those eyes were on him the moment he stepped into the light, they were blue and piercing and Shane couldn’t look away.

“Geez, that guy looks like he works out more than us.” Shane heard Hayden mutter as the man stalked across the stage towards the waiting boy.

“Wasn’t expecting a gay show” J.J. exhaled on his other side, sitting back and pouting as he chugged on his drink. Then he turned his attention to the girls still dancing at the side of the stage.

Shane didn’t quite know what he was thinking, he felt captured by the man’s gaze. When the man looked away to focus on the boy he felt the loss of it, a pull that almost made him whimper. What the actual fuck was this?

Shane watched as the man stalked around the boy who fell to his knees when approached, his head still lowered. Shane observed the posture, the smooth way he glided into that position; legs tucked beneath him, back straight, hands resting palms up on his thighs, gaze never wavering from the spot on the floor he had chosen. The man reached out and caressed the boy’s hair lightly. Shane watched the boy’s breath hitch for a moment, then quickly returned to the slow, steady breathing of before.

“It has been how long, boy?” the man spoke. Shane’s lips parted as he realized he had a strong Russian accent.

“A month, Master” the boy answered softly.

“Louder, they did not hear you.” the man commanded and Shane was enraptured as the boy shuddered.

“A month, Master.” the boy repeated louder.

The man nodded, keeping his eyes on the boy as he continued to circle him slowly. Then he spoke again.

“Good! Did you miss me, boy?”

“Yes Master, very much.” The response was loud and clear now.

“You were good, and did not annoy me, I will reward this.”

“Thank you Master.”

Shane thought he could see a hint of a smile on the boy’s face. It was clear he was trying to hide it.

“Do you want to be humiliated in front of these people, boy?”

The boy carefully, almost unseen, licked his lips and Shane watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Yes Master.”

Again the man nodded. Shane became aware of Hayden shifting next to him and heard him mutter “This isn’t what I expected. I…”

Then Drapeau joined “Fuck this… let’s get out of here.” And before he could do anything about it, Shane was being led out of the booth, and out of the room, looking back before going through the door to see the man’s eyes on him again.

“We should get a refund, since when is this a queer club?” Drapeau moaned as he shuddered dramatically.

J.J. added “Yeah I knew it was kinky now, but what the fuck was that?”

“You ok Hollander, I’m sorry dude, that wasn’t what we intended.” Hayden was asking him, looking into Shane’s eyes. He realized he must have looked dazed, because he was and what the fuck was that?

He shook it off “Yeah, fuck that, what the hell guys. You trying to turn me?”

The men laughed and, after a few arguments over which bars or clubs might still be open, they decided to call it a night.

Once he was home, Shane felt exhausted. He didn’t even shower before falling into his bed and curling under the sheets.

But sleep didn’t come.

Chapter End Notes

Chapter 2

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

All he could think of were those fucking blue eyes, like they were talking to him. He lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling. Still those eyes were staring back at him.

Had he imagined it? Had the man really been looking at him? Surely not, surely he was drunk and it was all in his head. It was totally the drink that made him think the man was beautiful in a way he’d never thought of a man before. It was totally the cocktails that had him ache when the man turned his attention to the boy, right? Right?

Shane could feel himself spiraling, his breathing quickened and everything around him was spinning and he knew it wasn’t just the alcohol. Now he was drunk and having a panic attack. Because he couldn’t be thinking about another dude that way, what the fuck Hollander? Get it together, think about the girls in the cages, they were hot right? Except he couldn’t even remember their hair color. Had only vaguely noticed they weren’t wearing much. He was not able to recall a single other detail. FUCK!

He was the Number One draft pick, Hockey’s Golden Boy, and there was talk of making captain in a year. He should not be fucking daydreaming about sexy Russian men with beautiful eyes. He should not be fucking hard as a fucking rock right now… Jesus! What was this? Unconsciously his hand moved to his chest, stroking downwards slowly.

Hockey guys weren’t gay right? He couldn’t think of a single one. His hand slid across his abs.

He knew all the names gay guys were called in the changing rooms and on the ice.

His hand slipped down to his cock, fingers curling around the hot, hard flesh.

This was a disaster.

Yet here Shane was, stroking his cock, and the only thing he could see in his mind was that man, those eyes. The way the man seemed to look into his soul. The way those eyes seemed to see him in a way he hadn’t even allowed himself. The way he wanted those hands to touch his hair like they had touched that boy’s. The way he wanted to beg him to just be close, just allow Shane in his presence. The way he just wanted to see if his cock was as beautiful as the rest of him. FUCK!!!

He cried out when he came. Something he had never done before, always quiet even in his own place. But this felt different, more intense. Had he really just come thinking of another man’s cock? Oh god he had … As he cleaned himself up and curled back into the bed he sighed heavily. He finally drifted asleep, admitting to himself it hadn’t been the first time.

*******

Practice was in the afternoon so Shane allowed himself a few extra hours in bed. He felt awful; his head pounded, his mouth tasted like something had died in it and his stomach wasn’t particularly happy with him. He promised himself he would never indulge so much again. He was his own man now though, recently moved into his own penthouse apartment in the city, close to the practice rink. Eventually he pulled himself out from under the covers, and groaned as his aching body moved towards the bathroom. A hot shower should sort him out. He stood under the spray and let it loosen his aching muscles while desperately trying to think of anything but those eyes. It was like they were imprinted on the back of his eyelids.

“I am not fucking gay.” he told himself as he rubbed soap over his body and tried to ignore the voice in his head wondering how HIS hands would feel doing that. Oh my God this was awful!

He’d just got out of the shower when his phone rang. He ran into the bedroom while wrapping a towel around his waist, he grabbed it from the bedside table and noted the battery was almost dead, he’d forgotten to charge it when he got home. He checked the caller ID and answered.

“Hey Mom!” He tried not to sound as rough as he felt.

“Hey yourself, how was last night? I hope the boys weren’t too rough on you.” She was chucking softly, she knew hockey players too well.

“It was good, fun! I um… probably had too much to drink.”

“Well… as long as it doesn’t become a habit, an occasional indulgence is healthy.”

“Oh never again Mom, I swear!” He groaned and she outright laughed at him.

“Yep, said that so many times at your age Shane, I’m glad you had fun though. No trouble, nothing I’m gonna have to write a statement to the press about?”

“Geez Mom!”

“I’m joking, I know you’re my good boy. Well… a man I guess now you’re 18. Just wanted to check if you’re still coming out to dinner with us tonight, if you can face it.”

Shane smiled, “Yeah I can face it Mom, miss you guys. Got afternoon practice so give me time to get home and change. Maybe 7pm?”

“7pm, usual place. See you there, love you!”

“Love you Mom!”

He ended the call and dropped the phone on the bed and laughed at himself as he imagined the conversation that evening.

So yeah Dad, Mom, I had a great night, the guys all bought me drinks and I had I don’t know how many cocktails, I think we hit about 5 bars and … oh I um…. I think I’m gay ‘cause I saw this guy who was all in leather, I think he was like a Master or something and there was a boy who seemed to be his slave and I kinda wanted to be that boy.

Maybe not eh!

He sighed and finished drying off, slipping into his joggers and T-Shirt, ready to head to practice right after he’d had something to eat.

*****

“I don’t know where your head was today, Hollander, but you’d better shake it off for the game on Saturday.” Coach Theriault growled as he passed through the locker room at the end of practice.

Shane wasn’t surprised, he was the most off his game he ever remembered being. He hated it, but his mind was swimming. It wouldn’t shut up like it usually did when he was on the ice.

“Yeah of course, sorry coach.” he mumbled with his head lowered.

“Don’t worry Hollander.” J.J. piped up “It’s your first hangover, you’ll get used to it.” he laughed. The rest of the team laughed with him.

Shane blushed, if only they knew. “Yeah… that’s it I’m sure, thanks for getting me in trouble guys.” he chirped and laughed at the multiple “You’re welcome.” responses.

He showered at the rink, so just changed quickly when he got home and headed out to the restaurant. His parents were already there and he smiled brightly when he saw them, feeling lighter immediately. They were his anchor and he knew he would be ok as long as they were around.

He greeted them and took his seat.

“Good practice?” his Dad asked.

Shane cleared his throat, no need to worry them. “Yeah it was fine, you know, usual stuff. Did you guys get here ok? Traffic?” They lived 2 hours away.

“No, it was fine.” his Mom answered. Was Shane imagining it or was she looking at him a little oddly? Could she tell he’d lied about practice?

“Oh good… um so … "

“Can I get you some drinks?” The waiter interrupted. Shane let out a relieved breath, thankful for the distraction. After this the meal seemed to pass normally, Shane didn’t sense any more strange glances from his mom and they shared stories and joked as and shared stories, Yuna updated Shane on her latest sponsorship conversations and David cheerily tried to divert the conversation away from work. When the meal was done he walked them to their car, and hugged them goodbye before hailing a cab. It was dark now, past 10pm. The city was quiet, Shane leaned his head against the cool glass of the window and watched the city pass by. His thoughts began to race again.

Before he even knew why he was doing it, he found himself redirecting the cab to a street a block away from “Secrets”. He paid the driver and after the car pulled away he slowly approached the entrance. He stopped outside, looked at the door, daring himself to go back in. To see if he would see those eyes again. He took a step forward.

“I would not advise it, unless you want to change your media profile to pervert.” A familiar Russian voice came from the shadows. Shane startled and almost stumbled.

“What the fuck?” he gasped as he looked around for the source of the voice.

In the darkness of the alley next to the club he saw the glow of the cigarette first, then the dark figure. Shaped by shadows and the soft street lighting against his leather clothes, stepping further towards him.

“With your teammates is one thing but to be seen here alone Shane Hollander, it would not be good for your… reputation. What is it you want here?”

Those eyes were on him, definitely this time. Shane stammered and sputtered “I .. um .. I …. I don’t know I guess I … "

The man smirked. “You are curious, yes?” He raised an eyebrow and Shane’s heart fluttered.

“I um… I guess yes I was.” he couldn’t take his eyes off this man, what the hell?

The man moved closer and then nodded towards the alley. “Come with me, I will make sure you are not seen… but you can … satisfy your curiosity.”

Shane ripped his eyes from the man, tried to look into the dark alley. This was not a good idea. This was definitely not a good idea. So why were his feet following the man? Who was he? What was he?

Shane was led to a side entrance. Inside was a corridor, lit with blue lighting like the front entrance. This corridor had doors on either side. Shane’s heart was pounding. What was he doing? This was insane, dangerous, he should leave right now and go back to his normal boring schedule. It was safe, predictable and … god he hated how safe and predictable it was.

The man led him to a room, number 8 on the door. He unlocked the door with a key, then turned the handle to open it. “Step into my office, Shane Hollander.” he said, gesturing inside the room.

Again, against his better judgment, his feet led him into the room.

Chapter End Notes

Chapter 3

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

He didn’t know what he had expected. This wasn’t it.

His parents had made him go to therapy about his fear of dogs. This room was set up almost like his therapists room, except there was a TV here.

There was a couch, an armchair, a coffee table and a TV. Nope, not what he expected.

“Sit, make yourself comfortable. I will get you a drink, what would you like?”

Shane looked at the couch the man indicated and then back with his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish with no sound. The man smirked again. “It is ok, I will not kill you tonight. Only satisfy your curiosity, yes?”

Shane nodded, but he didn’t know why. “Um… Ginger ale?”

The man looked surprised, “I will see if we have this. Please, sit!”

He gestured at the couch again and only left once Shane started moving towards it. He sat down slowly, still taking in the room. He sat on the edge of the couch, leaning forward, his forearms on his thighs. What was he doing? What the fuck was happening? Who was that man and why does he want to do anything he tells him?

After a couple of minutes the door opened and Shane almost leapt out of the seat in fright. The man smirked again and dammit if that wasn’t becoming something Shane wanted to keep making him do.

“Woah, you are jumpy. It is OK, only me with this Ginger Ale. I brought Vodka bottle, I would never usually allow this but I think, perhaps you need a little added, yes?”

Shane’s heart felt like it might beat right out of his chest. He definitely needed something to relax him, so he nodded.

“OK, good.” the man answered. He poured a good finger of Vodka into Shane’s glass before handing it to him.

“Thank you.” At least Shane’s good manners weren’t impaired, even if every other good sense was.

The man moved to sit in the armchair, leaning back immediately, his arms resting on the arms of the chair. He looked like a king on a throne. A beautiful king.

“So… I know you… Shane Hollander” he announced and Shane took in a shaky breath. He shouldn’t be too disturbed about this, it felt like everyone in Montreal knew him. He nodded at the man and the man continued. “Since you are apparently mute and unable to ask, I am Ilya Rozanov. This is my given name but to the boys and girls here I am Master.”

Shane took a sip of his drink and licked his lips. He noticed how this man, Rozanov’s, eyes dropped to his lips as he did so. Noticed how they seemed to linger there a fleeting moment before coming back up to his eyes. Shane finally managed to speak “Why… do they do that? Call you…M… Master?” He took another sip rewarding his own courage to ask the question.

Rozanov seemed unperturbed by the question. “This is something they should answer, but I believe I give them something they need in their lives. As their Master I take responsibility for them, for their needs, for the noise in their minds. I give them the opportunity to be free of worry, of responsibility, of demands of work, family, friends, society… With me, for just a short time, they are free.”

Shane nodded slowly in understanding, and took in a deep breath. This felt like equal parts the most dangerous and yet the most important conversation of his life.

“You are busy and important for someone so young, maybe this is attractive to you? To be free from it all, for a short while?” Rozanov asked in a matter of fact tone and Shane lowered his head. Rozanov tilted his head a little in response, his eyes seeking Shane’s. He continued, his voice softer “It is nothing to be ashamed of… I believe it is stronger to know you need this than to damage yourself by piling on more and more with no release.”

Shane took in a shaky breath, how did this man see him so clearly? See things he didn’t even know about himself, until they were said out loud.

“It would be nice.” he managed weakly “To… be quiet.”

Rozanov nodded, his eyes seeking Shane’s again. Shane lifted his head to meet them.

“Perhaps it is good your teammates brought you here, even if they are homophobic idiots.”

“Hey don’t call them that!” Shane’s instinct to protect his teammates kicked in . “They’re good guys, they just …”

“They just what, Shane? They were happy to see me flog a woman but not a man? As I said, homophobic… but you…”

Shane’s eyes darted around the room suddenly as his heart rate quickened and his mind spun.

“… you wanted to stay… you wanted to see… you… wanted to be that boy? Am I right?”

Say no, say no, say no, his mind repeated not believing he could be read so easily.

“I um… I ….just never…”

Rozanov laughed and leaned forward, holding his glass between his knees with both hands as he maintained eye contact with Shane. “What? You have never seen a boy kneel before his Master before? Never saw a man with another man? Never imagined it, how it would feel to have a thick, long, throbbing cock deep inside you? "

“Stop it!” Shane blurted out, suddenly aware he was very very hard. Rozanov chuckled and leaned back again.

“There it is, there’s the shame I knew you had in you. I could see it as soon as I saw you last night. "

WHAT!? Shane found himself standing, looking around the room, for what? For … for …anything … for escape. It could not be true he was so obvious. He would be destroyed, his career ruined, everything he has worked for, that his parents had hoped and dreamed for.

“That’s not true!” he said, aware his voice was shaking. He stepped towards the door and stopped when Rozanov spoke again.

“You can go Shane, you can go back to your nice life as famous hockey player. You will win many games, maybe the cup, you will get married to beautiful woman and have 2 perfect little children… and you will be miserable… and still curious. Is that what you want, Shane?”

A shudder ran through Shane’s body and he remained frozen in place. Rozanov leaned forward again. “I know this frightens you, that you feel this, but here… you are safe, Shane. I will never share what happens here, what is said here with anyone. I perhaps am sometimes too … what is the word? Dull? Not sharp?”

“Blunt” Shane answered, and the act of speaking and helping with this man’s language knowledge seemed to relax him a little. He took a breath.

“Yes, this, I am blunt but, sometimes it is necessary to move things along. You have been very hidden I think, maybe even from yourself?”

Shane’s shoulders lowered and so did his head.

“Sit, please, I am sorry I scared you. I do want to help.” Rozanov gestured back to the couch and Shane slowly moved back there.

There was silence for a short while, both men just breathing. Shane stared at a spot on the plush carpet just in front of Rozanov’s shiny leather boots. Rozanov was watching him carefully as he sipped his vodka.

“What I meant to say was… I could see you were… curious.” Rozanov said softly. Shane took a deep breath and nodded. “I heard your teammate’s toast before the show… You are virgin?”

Shane’s head lifted, instinctively ready to challenge the accusation, but when his eyes met Rozanov’s he didn’t see malice. There was a strange kindness behind the intense gaze. He swallowed and took a breath. “I guess… I’ve um… done stuff… There was a girl at school, she liked me cos I was captain I guess. It never worked out.”

“Because you like men, yes? It is ok to say it.” Rozanov’s tone was firm but encouraging.

Shane’s head felt like it might explode. He thought of all the times he’d pushed these feelings away, denied them, tried to rationalize them, but now… Now he was being asked to own them… And it felt like if he didn’t, he may never get another chance.

“Yes… because…. because I like men.” It came out in a breath. He felt like a weight was lifted from him. He felt lightheaded.

“I am proud of you, Shane Hollander, you really are a strong person.” He heard the man with the beautiful eyes in the chair next to him say. Shane laughed, feeling like his heart might explode with joy, Rozanov’s praise zinging right down his spine.

Chapter End Notes

Chapter 4

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

“So what is this?” Shane asked a few minutes later when he finally started to relax, and lean back into the couch. “A sex club that comes with therapy?”

Rozanov’s eyes shone as he laughed, a deep sound that made Shane’s tummy feel weird.

“No No… It is a BDSM club, is for men and women. People in this community tend to be very open minded and accepting. Not your teammates though, eh?”

Shane shook his head “I’m sorry if we disturbed your… performance?”

“Ah is nothing, happens sometimes. People like the idea of kink until they are faced with reality.” Rozanov brushed it off. “The boy liked it. More humiliation for him that people walked out, that is his kink so thanks for the assist.”

Shane was laughing now “No problem.” He took a swig and emptied his glass. “OK so why did you bring me in here?”

“Ah this is, what I call, meeting room, where we have meeting, like business, draw up contracts.”

“Contracts?” Shane frowned. “Doesn’t sound very sexy.”

Rozanov grinned. “You would be surprised Shane, people have a lot of assumptions about this scene. "

Shane nodded to the TV. “How does that come into it? "

Rozanov smirked, Shane’s tummy fizzed again. “Ah, this is… how you say… way to demonstrate what is being agreed.”

Shane’s eyebrows shot up and he laughed “So you watch porn in your business meeting?”

Rozanov laughed again. “Yes.. I know to you is ridiculous but is important that scene partner understands what they are agreeing to, for safety of both people.”

Shane took that in and sipped his drink. “Can I ask you a question?”

Rozanov nodded “Of course.”

“How old are you?”

“20”

“Holy Shit!”

Rozanov laughed again and Shane’s tummy was in full butterflies now. “What, you think I’m older? This is not flattering.”

Shane shook his head. “No, I guess that’s why I asked. I guess I didn’t imagine someone so young would be so … experienced. "

Rozanov sighed heavily. “That is long story but yes there is experience, good and bad. I am in good place now, finally. Russia, not so good. I have asylum here in Canada.”

“Oh wow! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” Shane was suddenly aware he was treading on dangerous ground.

Rozanov waved off his concern. “Is OK. I am safe now and this is good place, I do ok.”

Shane listened and nodded “I’m glad… so… um… do I need to pay you for this um … meeting?”

Rozanov shook his head, “No, not tonight, tonight I brought in stray kitten. It would be mean to make it pay.”

“A stray kitten!” Shane wasn’t sure if he was amused or insulted.

“Yes, I saved you from humiliation and nasty gossip.”

Shane sighed. “Thank you for that, I guess. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“No.. but you are curious… Make yourself comfortable, ask me more questions.” Rozanov slipped off his jacket, revealing a tank top underneath. Shane’s breath hitched as the muscular shoulders and arms were revealed. Anyone on his team would kill for this physique. He looked like he could be carved from marble. Rozanov leaned back and flicked his hand, indicating that Shane should also remove his jacket.

“I um… ok.” He stumbled and awkwardly unfastened and removed his jacket before carefully folding it and placing it on the couch next to him. Rozanov was grinning at him like a Cheshire cat when he looked back at him. “What?”

“You are fascinating.” Rozanov said. “But no… You ask me questions, I want to teach you. Help you, if I can.”

“Why?” It was the first question that came to mind and Rozanov seemed almost surprised by it. He took a moment to look at him, eyes tracing his body from head to toe, making Shane shift nervously.

“Maybe you make me curious also.” He smiled “But I also need to know you, to know how I can help you, if you want me to be your Dom.”

“My what?”

Rozanov took a breath. “I skipped ahead too soon… Please, there is no pressure here. Please just ask your questions.”

Shane chewed on his lower lip and noticed Rozanov lick his own as he watched. They were both observing each other like predators… Or was he the predator and Shane the prey, watching and waiting for the pounce?

“OK so … You see men and women?”

“I am bi-sexual yes. So happy to see both.”

Shane blinked as he processed this. How much easier would it be if he was bi-sexual, then he could be with a woman and still be happy… couldn’t he?

“Do..do you have a um … preference?”

Ilya chuckled and shook his head. “It does not always work that way. "

“So um… You said BDSM, that’s like whipping and flogging and tying up, right?”

“Sometimes… Not always. It is different for different couples. For me, is mostly about control, and having the submissive surrender that to me.”

“So you hurt them to make them surrender?” Shane was a little worried now.

“No No No… Not at all.” Rozanov took a breath and Shane did the same. “It is as I said before, there are people who want a release… from all of the bullshit, the pressure, the responsibilities, the decisions. They want to be free from it all and do that with someone they feel safe with.”

Shane nodded and absorbed this. “I can see how that would be nice… But why all the whips and…”

“Do you want me to whip you, Shane?” Rozanov asked bluntly. Shane shook his head.

“Then forget about all that… Listen to what I am telling you, ok? That is not for you to worry about.”

Shane nodded and let out a long breath. “I guess, this really is misunderstood huh?”

“Yes it is… Now more questions please.”

“So I guess another thing I thought I understood but, now… I wonder… Is it always sex?”

Rozanov sipped his drink, smirked and shook his head “Not always, but often. Here at least.”

“And the contracts are … financial?”

“No… Well there was one woman with this kink but it is rare. No, the contract is a list of limits for both parties. It is agreed what will and will not be done, and maybe some things which may be tried if unsure then decided after.”

“What kinds of things?”

“Bondage, anal, fisting, humiliation, degradation, denial of pleasure, whipping, flogging … "

Shane’s eyes widened. “OK, I guess… I get the picture… So in the contract you can say no to those things?”

“Of course. Shane, it is totally about consent, this is about mutual satisfaction.”

“OK so… the … submissive? They get to give up all their responsibilities and so on… What does the dominant get out of it?”

Rozanov’s smile widened. “The satisfaction of giving their submissive what they needed, in a safe way. The pleasure of watching the submissive be totally free and knowing I have to keep them safe and make the right decisions for them. It is … exhilarating for people like me.”

“The performances… does everyone…”

Rozanov cut him off “They are not for all… In fact, not for most, but some like the exhibitionism, the humiliation. These rooms are for more private sessions. Or sometimes I meet outside, in hotel or submissive’s home. "

“Not your home?”

He shook his head “No, that is for me, not work.”

“You see it as work?” Shane was trying to wrap his head around what on earth brought this man to this place, to this role.

“Yes… and no. Yes, because it pays the bills and makes good money. No, because I do enjoy it.”

“But you don’t take it home?”

“No, that would be too …messy. Crossing lines.”

Shane nodded. It made sense. Like his teammates rarely took puck bunnies home, only to hotels. To keep the distance, not make it seem like more than it was.

Rozanov leant forward and reached out a hand to rest it on Shane’s knee. Shane froze momentarily. Then, as he stared at the hand and felt its warmth, he allowed himself a small smile. Rozanov noted this and also smiled. “You have asked enough questions. Let me ask you something.”

Shane nodded, and Rozanov stayed exactly where he was. His hand didn’t move, just rested warm and firm on Shane’s knee.

“You do not wish it to be known that you like men, yes?”

Shane nodded, a wave of fear shuddering through him at the very idea.

“You also are not very comfortable with much of what we just discussed, yes?”

“Quite a bit of it, yes.” Shane answered.

“OK, but you are human being, yes, you want to feel pleasure? Have sex like everyone else, yes?”

Shane nodded.

“You like me? Yes?”

Shane’s heart pounded and he knew he was hard again, and Rozanov could probably see that. He chewed his lower lip and nodded as he blushed.

Rozanov smirked. “You are adorable kitten.”

“Stop that!” Shane blushed more. Rozanov chuckled low, making Shane’s tummy fizz again and his dick to grow even harder.

“You feel safe here? With me?”

Shane nodded, he did. He didn’t know how or why, but he did.

“OK, so I make suggestion and you tell me what you are thinking. If you hate it, you leave and go back to boring miserable life.”

Shane was about to defend himself, that his life wasn’t boring and miserable. But he stopped himself. He was being honest with himself here and it was the truth.

“We set up contract, very tame, no kinky stuff, just contract to … fulfill curiosity, yes? You tell me what you want to try and we do that. Will be paid of course, $400 per hour is my rate if you want this.”

“So… I am in control?” Shane looked confused. Had he misunderstood what was said earlier?

“Yes… This is the thing, sub is always in control really, but Dom has responsibility to keep sub safe and in pleasure. This is not that. This is just helping you so you can explore and be curious and be safe from terrible news stories.”

“Why are you so bothered about what the press would say about me?”

Rozanov chuckles “I am huge Metros fan, I do not want to lose our star player. That is why I noticed you right away last night. Then I noticed more.”

Chapter End Notes

Chapter 5

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

“OK but, I kinda feel weird paying for my first time… Like… That’s not normal right?”

Rozanov shifted forward, his hand sliding up to Shane’s thigh. He looked at Shane and smirked.

“Maybe no, but is not typical for superstar hockey player to be virgin also so…”

Shane could feel his cock pressing hard against his zipper. He tried trying to control his breathing so he wasn’t so obviously turned on by a simple hand on his thigh. THIS hand on his thigh, this beautiful man who had listened and been kind and patient. Fuck, he was in trouble. He laughed nervously. “I guess not.”

Rozanov moved closer again, his voice low and now close to Shane’s ear. “We move at your pace, do only what you want. I am simply a tool, to satisfy this…. curiosity.” He grinned and Shane’’s breath hitched as the hand slid further up his thigh.

“This … contract.. Is it … legally binding, ‘cause my lawyer…”

Rozanov laughed and patted his thigh. “You will not need lawyer. I will not sue you, this is not that kind of contract. It is a promise we make to each other, to keep each other safe. Putting it in writing makes it more … binding in your head and your heart.”

Shane nodded again and looked down at the hand now with fingertips millimeters from brushing against the bulge in his pants. “Um.. so … when?”

Rozanov sat back and considered him a moment, still touching but no movement.

“It will take time to write contract as not like others… but … if you want… I am here, you are here… what would you like to do? "

The reality suddenly hit Shane, they could do something. Right now, he just had to say the word… Could he do this, should he do this? Fuck!

“Can… can… you kiss me? Please?” He blushed at how needy he sounded. Rozanov’s expression became intense, like a switch had been flipped. He leaned closer, keeping his hand on Shane’s thigh while the other rose to cup his jaw. The grip was firm and assured but not painful. He angled Shane’s face to his own and leaned in to kiss him.

Shane felt like he was made of alarm bells as soft lips pressed firmly against his with a confidence that blew Shane’s mind. Did Shane whimper? Yes he did. God, what is this man doing to him? Was he kissing him back right, he barely had any experience with just this, only awkward make out sessions with Cindy back in his junior year. After that there was no time for girls, no time for anything but Hockey.

Rozanov pulled away, keeping his face close and still holding onto Shane’s.

“Is ok?” he asked.

Shane cleared his throat “Yeah. Yeah of course… sorry if I was bad …I….”

Rozanov shook his head. “No! There will be none of this ‘sorry,’ talk. You are not bad, just inexperienced. I give you experience, it is ok?”

Shane nodded and mumbled “OK.”

Rozanov released him and stood, moving to sit on the couch with Shane. He patted his lap. “Come sit.”

Shane looked at him, disbelieving. “You’re asking me, a 200lb man, to sit in your lap?”

“Yes, is ok. I am strong, I will survive this. It is best position, unless you want to stand? Can be good also, but sometimes awkward.”

Shane slowly stood and moved to position himself, still unsure. Rozanov grabbed him and pulled him down, making Shane squawk in surprise. “Hey!! I thought I was in charge?”

Rozanov chuckled. “In most things, yes. But when your mind is working too much I make best decision.” Rozanov wrapped his arms around him. Shane felt his eyes close involuntarily at the feeling. Being held like this, feeling the warm body beneath him, the strong arms around him.

“Look at me, Shane.” Rozanov commanded soft and low.

Shane’s eyes opened. His heart fully flipped at how close those unforgettable blue eyes were now. They stared intensely into his. “I am going to kiss you again, and I want you to do whatever feels right. You can touch me, if you want.”

Shane didn’t have time to overthink before his lips were pressed to Rozanov’s again, with one of Rozanov’s hands moving up to cup the back of his head and pressing him closer. Rozanov’s lips moved and it felt like it was sending signals directly to his cock, which was now screaming at him. Shane gingerly moved a hand to rest it on Rozanov’s chest. He could feel his strong heartbeat beneath as he felt Rozanov’s tongue start to part his lips and seek entry into his mouth. Shane moaned low. When that moan was reciprocated by the man kissing him, he thought he might be about to die of happiness.

Shane’s other hand found the back of Rozanov’s head, fingers slipping into the soft curls. He pressed him closer, his body working independently of his brain, which was still trying to work out how the fuck he ended up here.

The hand that was not on Shane’s head along his body, making him shiver. Then he felt his shirt being pulled out from his pants before… Oh my god… The hand was now beneath the shirt and touching his skin. Every nerve ending on his body exploded with sensation. He thought he might come just from this.

Shane pulled away from the kiss breathless and dizzy, his mind swimming.

“Fuck.” He exhaled.

“You are ok Shane.” Rozanov reassured him. Or was he asking him?

“Um, yes.. ok .. just …umm.”

Rozanov smiled. “You are turned on, yes? I can see you have been for a while. Is up to you how far we go today, but if you wish I can … help you get some … relief?”

Shane let his head fall onto Rozanov’s shoulder. There was so much noise in his head right now. His whole body was tingling and he was hard as fuck and … “Yes.. yes please.” he gasped breathlessly.

Rozanov held his jaw again, guiding him back into another kiss, softer this time, gentle. It made Shane’s stomach do flips.

“You say stop, I stop, we clear?” Rozanov checked with him, looking into his eyes. Shane nodded, feeling so many things. Mostly he felt safe, which he couldn’t remember feeling for a very very long time.

“Say it Shane, tell me you will stop me if too much.” Shane’s eyes were scrunched closed, trying to reduce sensory input.

“Yes, I will stop you, I promise. Please - please?” Was he begging? Who the hell was this person he had become here?

He felt Rozanov’s hand slide under his shirt again, sliding up and down his bare back. Making him shudder and whimper into Rozanov’s neck as the man’s other hand unbuckled his belt, undid the button, and slid the zipper down. Then rubbed over the bulge in the fabric of his briefs making Shane cry out. He felt like he might come just from that touch. Rozanov removed his hand and returned to rubbing both hands over Shane’s back, around to his chest and abs while kissing at his neck. It felt like torment, like punishment … This delaying … But fuck he was enjoying this. Finally one hand slid beneath his briefs and took hold of his rock solid cock.

“Oh my god!” Shane exhaled, dimly aware of Rozanov’s low chuckle.

“You are sensitive Shane, so responsive. This is good.”

Shane moaned. The praise seemed to quiet his mind a little. As Rozanov’s hand moved over Shane’s dick Shane felt an overwhelming urge to touch Rozanov. His hand slipped beneath the tanktop and felt the hardness of his abs, then the defined lines of his chest, making him moan again. This man was a fucking Adonis and he was here, touching him … Fuck he wanted more … He needed more.

Shane moved suddenly on instinct, because he knew he hadn’t really thought about it. He slid from Rozanov’s lap and knelt between his knees. His hands moved to unfasten the man’s belt. He nuzzled his cheek against Rozanov’s thick thighs. He unzipped him, looking up, just for a moment, seeing Rozanov nod. He pulled out the man’s thick long cock. Fuck… it was… perfect. He breathlessly nuzzled against it before taking it into his mouth without a second thought… And then … As he sucked at the man’s cock, felt his fingers in his hair, heard his moans, and the sounds of pleasure coming from his own body, his mind was silent… there was just this… just them… peace.

He had no idea if he was doing the right thing. He figured this is what felt good when Cindy had tried…He sucked, hollowing his cheeks and let his tongue lap at the thick leaking head. God, this felt incredible, so good, so right… Why had he resisted this? Rozanov moaned and whispered soft praise. It made him happy. Rozanov’s moans grew louder and fuck… Shane was coming in his pants. He groaned, his movements stuttered for a moment, his hips thrusting into the air, but no he would not stop. He wanted to make Rozanov come, he had to finish what he started.

“Shane, did you?” he heard Rozanov cry, and then “Shane, I will come, you need to get off if you…”

Shane gripped Rozanov’s thighs and maintained his efforts, he would not run away now.

When Rozanov came Shane felt every spurt of hot liquid hit his throat. He swallowed, still sucking until there was no more. Even then it took Rozanov cupping his head and guiding him away to make him stop. “OK, enough… Is too sensitive now.” Rozanov breathlessly told him. Shane rested his head on Rozanov’s thigh, watching as his cock slowly softened while Shane caught his breath. He thought it was beautiful.

Rozanov broke him from his daze as he gently stroked his hair. Shane lifted his gaze to see the Russian looked down at him with something almost like wonder.

“Fuck Shane… You’re faster at this than you are on the ice. You go from 1 to 60 in zero seconds.”

Giddy, Shane chuckled. He felt… dozy, floppy, relaxed, totally happy.

Rozanov stroked his hair some more as he watched him, before encouraging him up to the couch, pulling him in to rest his head on his chest. He continued to idly stroke his hair.

“I think you learned a lot today. About BDSM, and about yourself, eh?”

Shane nodded silently. The dozyness was wearing off slowly as reality began to creep in.

“Thank you.” he eventually murmured, making Rozanov smile.

“I haven’t broken you completely then. You are still well mannered good Canadian boy,” he chirped. Shane blushed.

Rozanov shifted and Shane lifted himself away.

“There is bathroom through there, if you need to clean up. I apparently don’t need it, you did good job.”

Shane flushed and stood up. He walked to the bathroom, unsteady on his feet. He closed the door behind him.

He sat on the lid of the toilet and cleaned himself off with the provided wipes and tissues. When he stood he caught his reflection in the mirror. He was flushed, but he could see a difference. How his posture seemed more relaxed. How his face just didn’t hold the tension he hadn’t even been aware of until now. It was gone.

“So I guess… This is who I am now,” he muttered to his reflection before heading back out to the room.

He still didn’t know who that was though, and what it would take to stay that person.

Chapter End Notes

Chapter 6

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“You have phone? Give!” Ilya instructed Shane as they walked together, a block away from the club. Ilya had insisted on making sure Shane got safely into a cab, Shane had seemed dazed and not altogether with it. He would worry about leaving him to wander the streets of Montreal alone this late. Shane passed him his phone and Ilya typed in his number under the name “Lily”, then sent a text to himself.

“I am Lily here ok? In case someone sees. So it is safe for you.” He handed the phone back and Shane shakily took it from him. “Text me when you are home safe, ok? Drink water and go to sleep.” Shane nodded, he was blushing still, his freckles growing darker and painting his beautiful face. Ilya thought he looked adorable.

“I will.” Shane answered quietly.

“Good. When you are ready for more, let me know. We will make arrangements.” Ilya entered Shane’s number into his own phone under the name “Jane,” all his clients were saved under pseudonyms as a security measure to ensure privacy and trust between them.

Shane nodded and stopped dead before they reached the end of the block. It was quiet, early hours with no traffic.

“What is it?” Ilya asked, reaching up to lift Shane’s jaw again. Shane’s eyes moved to his, wide and glistening. Ilya ran his thumb across his cheek, he loved those freckles much. “You are sad Shane?”

Shane shook his head, clearing his throat before correcting his stance to look less like a floppy rag doll. “No .. no I’m fine.” he told Ilya who didn’t believe a word. “I um … should .. pay..”

“No!” Ilya stopped him. “Not for tonight, this was not for pay, I pulled you in, remember?”

Shane managed a half grin “A stray kitten, huh?”

“Yes, stray kitten. If you want me again, we will agree pay, but not tonight, ok?” He quickly made sure nobody could see them, leaning in to kiss him softly. “I hope, for your sake Shane Hollander, that you are brave again, like tonight.”

Shane stood motionless after the kiss. Ilya quietly reminded himself that he could not allow himself to become too attached here. The lights of a cab approached from the bottom of the road and Ilya stepped out to hail it.

“Go home, text me, drink and sleep, ok?” he told Shane as the cab pulled up.

Shane nodded, looking back again with those big sparkling brown eyes. Ilya had to force himself to open the door. He made sure Shane got in, then closed it before he could decide to jump in with him.

The cab pulled away. Ilya pulled out his pack of cigarettes and lit one as he watched the car disappear into the distance. He was in danger here, he could feel it. But the pull was inescapable. Those big brown eyes over that constellation of freckles on perfect skin, a mouth that molded to his so perfectly despite clear inexperience. The way he sucked his cock… Blyat!

He strolled slowly back to the club, smoking and humming softly. He was humming? He did not do this? What was happening to him? He laughed at himself as he entered the club and waved at the girl in the cloakroom. Shane fucking Hollander was certainly one to remember.

He ordered himself a drink and sat at the bar watching tonight’s show. Mistress Christina was leading a 50 year old, overweight naked man in a muzzle around the stage on a leash. He liked her. She reminded him of Olga back in Russia; all mean and scary to her clients, but the nicest woman he ever knew in private. In fact, he owed Olga his life. He wondered where she was now and if she was ok, before shaking off those old memories.

That was before.

“Busy night Ilya?” The club’s owner, Jared, asked as he took a seat next to him. “I’ve barely seen you.”

“Ah I had special client, long meeting.” He tapped his nose indicating it was someone high profile, Shane was not the only famous client they had. The general rule in the club was that such details were on a need to know basis, as long as the club got their cut. Ilya took out his wallet and handed over $200 of his own money. Jared took it with a nod and patted him on the back as he gestured towards the entrance. “Looks like you got another one.”

Ilya looked over to spot one of his regulars. One who never booked in advance, just turned up unannounced. She did this on purpose, so she would be punished for it. Ilya stayed at the bar and turned away so she would have to approach him. He didn’t ever approach clients, unless previously agreed for a scene.

He’d approached Shane though, out on the street. Why did he feel different? That handsome hockey star, why did he feel like something had changed?

“Will you buy me a drink, Master?” his client Sonya asked, as she sidled up next to him at the bar standing just close enough not to touch him. Ilya’s performance began, raking a disdainful look up and down before indicating to the barman “Dirty Martini for this slut, she is paying.”

Sonya pouted, like she always did, bratty little thing. “What do you want, slut? I am working.”

She slid onto the stool next to him, keeping her eyes on him always. He read the labels on the bottles at the back of the bar to make sure he was not showing any interest. “I hoped you might want to spend some time with me Master, I missed you.”

“And what makes you think I should drop everything to do this? You show up at my work, no appointment, no respect for my time.”

She slowly reached out a hand to caress his thigh, sliding up before he grabbed it. “Did I say you could touch me, slut? First you pay your tab, then I take you into the back and show you what I do with sluts who do not show me respect.”

She took $450 from her wallet and handed it to him. “Does that cover it, Master?” she asked shakily, her pupils already dilating. He left $50 on the bar and took the rest, shoved it into his wallet before leading her into the back rooms.

*****

It was a job well done, Sonya left happy, but Ilya felt unfulfilled. He checked his phone and saw a text from Shane.

Jane: Home safe.

Jane: Thank You!

Jane: Goodnight.

He smiled thinking of the adorable stray kitten. Utterly undone and still so polite, very Canadian. He messaged back…

Lily: Goodnight Kotenok, sweet dreams

He didn’t know if he had done the right thing for Shane tonight, if leading him down this road would end in disaster. Perhaps he had been selfish. Yes… yes he had. He had seen him the night before and his heart had instantly raced. Shane Hollander, the handsome star player for his favorite team. Or were they his favorite team because of their star player? He wasn’t really sure anymore, he’d had this boyish crush for so long.

Chapter End Notes

Chapter 7

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Ilya headed home after Sonya left. His head wasn’t in it tonight and he couldn’t afford to lose regular clients. His apartment was modest but in a nice part of Montreal. He shared it with his best friend and former foster sister Svetlana, who he has always called Sveta.

They had both been separately smuggled out of Russia by Rainbow Railroad. Ilya at 14, Sveta at 15 but she arrived in Canada before him. They had been given asylum and fostered by a Canadian family until they were 16. That was when they first started sharing an apartment. Much smaller than this, but they had both worked hard.

Sveta worked in a high end car salesroom. Initially Ilya waited tables, and helped clean his local gym in return for membership. He had a plan for his future, and worked on building his body until he was introduced to Jared when he was 18. Once he started earning more, they moved to this new place. Sveta was the only family he had now as far as he was concerned. She wasn’t particularly fond of his career, she worried about him, but respected his choice. She had to acknowledge he was clearly successful, if only from the money he brought in.

It was quiet when he got home, Sveta was asleep. He quietly made himself a drink and flopped onto the couch. Ilya found himself staring at the single table lamp dimly lighting the room as his mind wandered through the events of the last 2 days.

The last person he had expected to see right in front of his stage was Shane Hollander. He had giggled with Sveta over his picture in the newspapers or on TV when a game was on. They both thought he was ridiculously hot. Ilya had assumed he would be a self-assured and cocky jock like most professional athletes. Even though in the few after-game interviews he’d seen he’d noticed a reserve, a shyness maybe? Which made him even cuter in Ilya’s mind.

Then Shane Hollander was there, right as he’d stepped onto the stage. It had taken him a few seconds to gather himself and get on with his performance. He’d thought he heard someone shout his name a little earlier in a toast, but it didn’t quite register. Not until he saw him with his own eyes, surrounded by other Metros players. When the group with him suddenly all stood and left he didn’t know if he should be amused or disappointed. Had he misread that needy look he’d seen? Surely not, reading people is what he did best. So he’d put it down to a strange sequence of events, never to be repeated. Of course he’d mentioned it to Sveta that morning and they’d giggled over how shocked the group of men had appeared.

“These big macho hockey players, chirp and slam each other into the boards, shower with each other almost every day, wave their dicks like swords but run away like frightened women at the idea of another man wanting to touch it. " Sveta giggled. “Ilyusha, you never know… maybe the beautiful Shane Hollander will return! Maybe he liked what he saw in my beautiful friend.” She ruffled his hair as she stood and took dishes to the sink. Ilya had dropped his head onto his folded arms resting on the table.

“He was so pretty, Sveta. Even more than in the pictures. I think he was drunk and he looked like an adorable kitten.”

“Well, I’m glad his stupid teammates took him away so you didn’t bring a stray cat home like last time.” she grinned, moving around the kitchen, tidying.

“It was starving!” he moaned.

“It was covered in fleas and we had to get the apartment fumigated.” She shook her head and moved around the table to hug him from behind. “I love you, Ilyusha, but your soft heart has always been your downfall. I do not know how you do what you do with such a marshmallow heart.” She kissed his head and went into her room.

Then, that night, as he took a smoke break after a couple of short sessions at the club, he saw Shane again. Wandering past the alley he was standing in, looking at the entrance to the club. He knew the club was busy, he knew Shane would stand out and he would be recognized. It would not be good for him if he wished to keep his clean image. He could have said nothing, he could have let him go inside and try to speak with him there, Shane’s image was not Ilya’s responsibility. He had watched, noting the conflict on Shane’s face as he loitered. He could see the internal battle and as Shane had taken the step to walk into the unknown Ilya had not been able to stop himself from intercepting him.

Now… Now, after the couple of hours he had spent with him, now Shane wasn’t just a cute man in the newspaper. Now he was real, and it was clear Shane was confused, messed up, and all the things Ilya had been once, years ago. When he was much younger, when his life had been at risk because of his desires. For Shane it was his career, which was his life. Maybe not in the same way but just as important. The urge to help him, protect him was overwhelming and he’d found himself agreeing to… No … Actually, to suggest far more than he knew was appropriate. This was never going to be like any other client. Sveta was right, his soft heart was going to get him in trouble here.

He wondered if Shane would ever message him again. If he would wake up horrified at what had happened, delete his number and go back to the safe life he had before. It would be the easiest thing, the safest thing, maybe even the best thing for both of them. Ilya really hoped he wouldn’t, though. To see the change in him after; how blissfully peaceful he had been, how he moaned and purred when touched, how he sucked him like his life depended on it, clumsy and awkward but so responsive to Ilya’s gentle guidance. It was like watching a birth, a new life, and it was beautiful and perfect and he wanted it to thrive in the light.

He hated this world sometimes, hated that people were terrified to be themselves and lived in fear of discrimination, persecution, even prosecution or death. It was awful and he hated it. Canada was supposed to be safe from this, yet here was one of her own, still hiding. Still afraid. He hated this world.

Ilya finished his drink and dragged himself to the shower. He came after stroking himself to the memory of Shane’s mouth on him, the big brown watery eyes. The way he had dropped to his knees to suck him. The feel of the weight of him against his body as he held him afterwards. He should not be thinking of him like this, but the thoughts came unbidden, screaming for attention, and he had no desire to resist them.

He hoped Shane was ok. He hoped Shane would message him. He hoped he wouldn’t.

He hoped.

Chapter End Notes

Chapter 8: Secrets

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

The phrase, “The cold light of day” had never made as much sense to Shane as it did this Friday morning. He had actually slept well, but his memory of getting home and getting himself into bed was fuzzy. It was filled with snapshots of moments when he’d felt inexplicably happy, then inconsolably sad. This morning, it was more an overwhelming feeling of confusion and fear that made his insides feel tight.

He tried to focus on yoga, he ran on his treadmill, he drank his nutritious shakes and lifted some weights, but the thoughts wouldn’t go away.

So, was he still a virgin? He wondered. After some deliberation with himself decided: yes he was. Then, nothing really had changed right? Everything was just how it was before and he could just put it behind him and carry on regardless… right?

“No, that’’s not right you stupid fucking idiot.” he told his reflection in the bathroom mirror after his post workout shower.

Everything had changed. Everything!

He now knew he was gay.

He had literally sucked a man’s dick and he had fucking loved it.

He had no interest in women, as much as he wished he did. He just wanted an easy, simple life. That was not going to happen now.

He knew just about every NHL stat, he could rattle off Cup winners, highest goal scorers, All Star champions. Any stat you could think of. He could name the players, the year, the team. He could not name one single openly gay or even bisexual player, ever! He was pretty sure that “First out Queer player” was a title he did not want to hold. He hated himself for feeling that way.

He’d never felt comfortable with the homophobic slurs passed around on the ice and in the locker rooms. He was liberal and supported people’s right to live peacefully and have equality. He never had the confidence to speak up though due to his anxious, non-confrontational nature. He played at Pride nights, so why the fuck was he so frightened of this thing he now knew he was?

Because, despite the Pride nights, he knew this would never be accepted in the NHL. He’d be benched, then traded to some backwater team, where he would disappear; no media, no sponsorship deals, nothing. Everything he had worked for since he was a boy would be gone, just because he was gay. He wasn’t indispensable yet. Tears brimmed in his eyes as he sat on his couch. He tried to think of what he should do. It was impossible. Impossible to feel the peace and joy he had experienced last night and to also have all the things he worked for. The things he deserved because yeah, he was one of the best, and he would be the very best, he knew that. But only if he kept this part of himself shut down, hidden, locked away like the dirty little secret Hockey says it is.

The worst thing was, he couldn’t talk to anyone about this. He didn’t really have friends outside of the sport. Even his Mom was connected, as his manager. Could he tell her? No, she would panic and stress him out even more. His Dad would insist on sharing with his Mom so he was out too.

The only person was Rozanov, and to talk to him he had to pay by the hour.

Who the fuck did that anyway? Pay for sex? God he was pathetic!

But, he would also be paying for discretion, for support, and he’d really liked talking to Rozanov. He was funny in his own way. Shane liked the way he felt when he was with him. That was worth paying for, right? Some guys gambled or bought luxury cars and partied to feel good, was this any worse?

He pulled his phone from his pocket and pulled up the number for “Lily”. He smiled. It was cute, the names Rozanov had chosen. He was so thoughtful to do that, to protect him. He had already protected him from being seen in the club, and then this. It was nice, to have someone look out for him like that.

A sex worker. He needed to remember this. Rozanov was doing what he needed to look after his client. Was he even a client? He hadn’t actually paid him yet. Either way Rozanov had made it clear he would require payment for Shane to see him again.

Shane stared at the messages from last night. Brief, detached. He could not get ahead of himself with this. IF he saw Rozanov again it would be sex, just sex, a release like he said, escape from the noise of the world. God he needed that.

Jane Can I see you?

He typed the message, but didn’t send it immediately. Did it sound too desperate? He was desperate. He pressed send and let his head drop back as he let out a breath, his heart racing. When he lifted his head again he saw the dots indicating Rozanov was responding.

Lily So soon Shane? I’m glad you enjoyed. I have full book tonight, but tomorrow I can see you. You have game yes?

He couldn’t deny his disappointment. Rozanov was busy with other people. Of course he was, that was his job. He needed to get it together.

Jane Oh! Game tomorrow.

What the fuck? Too late. It was sent, he sounded like a kicked puppy.

Jane Free after, if that’s cool.

There, fixed it, that sounded completely chill. Not desperate at all.

Lily The club? I can meet you at side entrance.

No, the club was too risky, too many people. He would not go there again.

Jane Could you come to my place?

Lily Of course, send me pin. I will be there 10pm, is ok?

He confirmed, sent the address and access code for the building and the elevator to his penthouse floor, then stared at the screen for he didn’t know how long. There were no more messages. He sighed heavily and dropped the phone on the couch next to him. He needed to be productive, so he got up and grabbed his laptop. If he wasn’t having sex tonight, he was certainly going to educate himself more after last night’s embarrassing conversation.

He felt awkward at first, entering the search terms, some small part of him afraid the FBI would swoop in and label him as some kind of sexual predator. As he found more information on kink and BDSM he realized he was not likely to find himself on a watch list just yet, with this amount of easily accessible content.

He devoured the information, swiftly learning to move away from the more extreme stuff. He read endless articles and posts on power dynamics and what he’d learned was generally called Soft D/s. This intrigued him the most; he would want to speak with Rozanov more about this. Then his search switched specifically to homosexual sex, what people did, and what might be different in a Soft D/s dynamic for two men. By evening his sexual education had significantly improved. Before he went to bed, relatively early due to morning practice before the game, he sent one more message.

Jane I’d like to explore Soft D/s and maybe some ass play.

Chapter End Notes

Chapter 9

Ilya was glad he had waited until the end of the night and not been with a client when he checked his phone, because he almost choked at the message.

Soft D/s? Ass play? When did his innocent kitten learn these terms?

He ran his tongue across his teeth as he considered his response.

Lily: I will bring lube.

Lily: And toys.

He grinned as he pictured Shane’s face as he imagined what he might bring. Then he added one last thing.

Lily: And Contract

He had drafted something appropriately vague in specifics but leaning into a D/s dynamic, with Shane setting the pace and Ilya fulfilling and educating. All the usual safety measures, regarding sexual health were also laid out.

He wasn’t entirely sure the educating part was needed anymore, but he left it in. Educating was part of his long term goals anyway, and a part of his current role at the club that he particularly enjoyed. In a couple of years he would have saved up enough to go to school and train to be a sex therapist. He knew he couldn’t stay in this current job forever. He also knew where his talents lay. The plan was to do this until he didn’t have to, then set himself up as a therapist. That way he could still make money from other people’s unfulfilling sex lives, in a different way.

Sveta was awake when he came home in the early hours. She was still dressed up and had clearly been clubbing.

“Ilyusha, there you are! I have not seen you in days! You sleep, I work, I sleep, you work.” She was sitting on the couch and held her arms open to him.

Ilya flopped down, rested his head in her lap and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“I missed you too Sveta, did you have a good night?”

He was thankful for the distraction from his thoughts of ass play with Shane Hollander.

“Yes!” She slurred. “I went out with the sales team, we had a record month and the owner treated us to a free bar! I drank, I danced, I kissed 2 - no 3 girls and 2 boys and came home with none… I am broken.” Her arms flopped down dramatically and Ilya laughed.

“You are not broken, you came home with none because you couldn’t stick with one long enough to feel connection. Sveta, I know you love Love but you must give people more time.”

Sveta scrunched her nose and shook her head. “I am fine, I had fun. What about my Ilyusha, did he have fun being a sex god?”

She started to play idly with his hair and he relaxed into her, enjoying the sensation.

“Yes, yes, I am Ilya Rozanov, God of sex! I had a full book, 5 clients, all went home very happy.” He sighed and Sveta frowned.

“But you are not happy? Did you not make enough money?”

Ilya shook his head “I made $1500, that’s not the issue. I am … not myself.”

“Tell me Ilyusha, what is happening in this beautiful head? This is not the man I spoke to 3 days ago.” She stroked his hair tenderly now. For a moment, he was reminded of his Mama. He pushed the thought away, he had enough unbidden thoughts tormenting him.

“Yes. Three days ago Shane Hollander ran away from my club.”

Sveta giggled. “Yes I remember, you were very excited about it.”

Ilya nodded and closed his eyes. “I just can’t stop thinking about him, Sveta. Yes, he was so much more pretty in person, but his eyes, he was so curious. The other stupid hockey players were so disgusted but not him, he looked like he had just peeked at the secrets of the universe. He reminded me of when I first thought about boys when we were kids.

“Oh, Ilyusha.” Sveta leaned in and rested her head on Ilya’s shoulder.

Ilya sighed heavily. “I know Sveta, he is a big famous hockey player and it’s stupid of me to think he could want something like this, but I cannot help it.”

“It is fine to want Ilyusha. But I do not understand why this makes you sad.”

Ilya shook his head, he would say no more. He couldn’t now without breaking his promise of discretion. He was already mad with himself. Sveta sighed and twirled her fingertips in his curls.

“I suppose if, in theory, I was sex goddess and some person that I greatly admire were to become interested, it might be… complicated.”

Ilya forced a sad smile. “You are a beautiful woman. I’m sure you are a sex goddess, and also very perceptive… but there is nothing more to say, only delusions. It is late, I need to get up early tomorrow for a blood test. I’m off to bed. " He started to move away from her but she pulled him to her, cradling his head against her chest.

“I do not like what you do, you know this, it is too dangerous and you have had enough danger in your life. I really do not like that it means you keep secrets from me, secrets that make you unhappy. I love you my brother.” She kissed his forehead before releasing him.

Ilya smiled softly at her as he stood and leaned down to kiss her cheek. “I love you, my sister, my best friend, my family. Please do not worry, I will be fine. It is nothing awful, it is, as you said, just complicated.”

She seemed relatively satisfied with that and he left her to go to his room.

Complicated… Was that the word? When he considered dropping a $1500 minimum night for a man he’d only spent 2 hours with previously? That was what he had actually thought about when he received Shane’s “Oh, Game tomorrow” message. He had seriously almost canceled the whole lot to go to him because he sounded so disappointed.

Then he had followed up with “Free after, if that’s cool.” and Ilya felt like a fool. Of course he wasn’t asking him to come right away, or even that night. Shane was supposed to be the needy one but why did he, Ilya Rozanov, feel disappointed?

He would sleep, get up, go for his monthly blood test. Go to the gym, come home, shower. Pack lube and toys, watch the game on TV. And then he would go show Shane what Soft D/s and ass play was all about. He usually took Saturdays off, but he would make an exception for Shane. He was already making a lot of exceptions for Shane.

What toys to pack? He wondered as he lay wide awake. A butt plug obviously, not too big… Would a dildo scare him? Maybe a finger vibrator, was it too soon for a prostate massager? Anal beads?

Sleep was not going to come easy tonight.

Chapter 10

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for more notes

They barely won the game with 3-2, no thanks to Shane who hadn’t managed a single goal. The team was celebrating, but Shane did not miss the scowl from their coach in the locker room. He had to get out of his head, had to figure out his shit or he was going to be in real trouble.

He showered quickly, changed and went home. There he showered again, taking more time this time. He used his favorite products, making sure he smelt good and was completely clean. After, he stood in front of his wardrobe and sighed; should he look smart, or casual? What the fuck do you wear when your sex worker comes to visit? Settling on jeans with an untucked cream shirt, he spent the next thirty minutes pacing around his apartment, plumping cushions, adjusting the position of ornaments his Mom had bought to make the place look more homely. His heart was racing and he knew he should be tired after a game, but the anticipation of what was to come kept him buzzed and energized. Was it 10pm yet?

The door buzzer sounded and Shane moved quickly to the door, opening it without even checking the peephole, his mother would be so mad at him.

Rozanov stood with one arm leaning against the door frame, carrying a duffle bag. His curls brushed into a wave on top and slicked at the sides, he wore a vintage looking leather jacket over a very form fitting tank top and blue jeans. Shane’s heart skipped a beat, it was like he’d opened the door to an old movie star,James Dean or a young Patrick Swayze. Rozanov smirked at him.

“I can stand here all night if you prefer, but I think you have other plans.” He grinned.

Shane shook himself out of his daydream and stepped back “Yes, of course, come inside, please.”

Rozanov noticed the shoes lined up near the door and without saying anything he entered, slipped off his own and moved them towards the line before walking further inside. He looked around and nodded appreciatively as he did so.

“This is nice place. Very nice, great view, not overlooked.”

Shane nervously followed him inside. “Yeah, I, um, bought it, and the one next door. I might make it all into one place, but for now I rent that one out.”

Rozanov turned to him with an eyebrow raised and a grin. “Ah, Mr Landlord.”

Shane smiled shyly. The silence quickly grew a little awkward.

Rozanov dropped his bag near the couch and clearly decided to get things moving. “So, I think maybe we look at contract first, yes? Get this out of the way before we move onto your plans?”

Shane nodded and indicated the couch. “Sure, take a seat. Um, sorry I should have asked, would you like a drink? I have um, Ginger Ale and um, I think there’s some beer that my Dad left here.”

Rozanov smiled at him. It was the kind of smile that said You’re being completely unnecessary right now. Shane had seen that smile a lot in his life. He sighed and finished lamely “Or I have water of course.”

“Water is fine, Shane, thank you.” Rozanov responded, sat on the couch and began to open his bag.

Shane went into the kitchen, poured ice into two glasses and pulled two bottles of water from the cooler. When he returned and placed them on the table he noticed Rozanov had laid out some papers. He sat down when Rozanov pat on on the cushion next to him.

“This is very basic, but you should read and understand. It is as we discussed, customized to your needs and situation. I added in some things you may not have considered regarding safety and taking care of your health. If in time you wish to amend this, then we can discuss. If you wish to clarify anything, please say so now, I want you to be sure of what you are agreeing to.” He picked up the papers and handed them to Shane. “Please take your time to read. I do not charge for this time, only after you have signed.”

Shane shakily took the papers. Rozanov smiled softly and rested a hand on Shane’s shoulder. “Do not be so scared, I am here to take care of you.” The hand slid slowly down Shane’s arm. He immediately felt the comfort from it and let out the breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding. Rozanov moved and stood, picking up his glass. “I will go over by window and enjoy view while you read, please do not rush.”

“OK. I um… Do you have any other appointments tonight?” he asked, wondering if his time here was limited.

Rozanov was already looking out of the window, he didn’t turn to him but shook his head. “No, tonight I am all yours.”- Shane caught the edge of that grin that made his tummy fizz. He looked back at the contract and began to read.

He had signed many contracts in his career so far, and this was by far the strangest. As promised it laid out what they had discussed two nights ago; a discrete arrangement where Rozanov made himself available to explore whatever sexual acts Shane wished for. There was a list of hard limits that Rozanov himself had, which included some things he’d never heard of, and from the description didn’t care to know. Others he had read about and absolutely agreed with but he was quite surprised by “No whips or flogging?” he muttered and Rozanov turned to him.

“No whips, it is something I do not like. Non-negotiable. If you want whip I will find you someone else. I know it is something you think is expected but I have my reasons. Is that something you would want?”

Shane shook his head “No… I just… I was surprised, is all.”

Rozanov returned to the view. “Continue reading.” he instructed and sipped his water.

Shane was relieved to read Rozanov’s promise to be tested monthly and provide results on request. He was also relieved of promise to use condoms for anything involving penetration. He marveled at how such a topic could be laid out in such a business-like way.

“Do you need me to be tested too?” he asked.

Rozanov shook his head. “You can if you wish, but is not required, with you I do not think I need to worry too much that you are sleeping around.” He turned and grinned menacingly and Shane blushed.

“Fuck you.” he muttered.

“Later maybe, if you wish.” Rozanov chuckled. “Keep reading.”

When he finished, he looked up at Rozanov for a few moments as he stared out over the city before getting his attention. It seemed like he was thinking about something big, like something was bothering him. He wondered, briefly, what had brought this man to Canada, he had mentioned Asylum, so it couldn’t have been good. Did he miss Russia?

“OK, so I sign here right?” he said, finally breaking the silence. Rozanov snapped out of his daze and turned, walking back to the couch and sitting down.

“If you are happy to do so.”

Shane nodded and picked up the pen Rozanov had left on the table, adding his signature at the bottom of the last page of the contract and sliding it over.

Rozanov added his signature, then picked up the contract and put it in his bag. “I will bring you copy next time.” he told him. Then he smiled wider. “So… you have been reading, yes? Soft D/s and ass play, eh?”

Shane blushed and lowered his head. Rozanov’s hand was quickly lifting his chin. “No, it is good you are learning these things. Even better you are asking for what you want.”

Shane smiled softly “So. What next?”

Rozanov grimaced a little “Next we get business out of the way. You pay, then we can focus. How long were you planning to have me here?”

“Um… Maybe 2 hours? is that long enough?”

“Yes, it can be $800 for 2 hours. If you decide you want longer, as I am free agent tonight, we can settle up later. I think you are good for it, yes? Mr Millionaire superstar!” Rozanov grinned and Shane blushed.

“You know, you can be a bit of an asshole.” Shane muttered as he opened his wallet, taking out a wad of $50 bills he’d made sure to collect from an ATM that morning and handing them to Rozanov.

“Is part of my Slavic charm!” Rozanov shrugged, taking the money and putting it into his wallet uncounted. “OK, business done. Now we start. Go to your bedroom and take off your clothes.”

Shane paused for just a second, thoughts swirling through his head. Get naked? So soon? Just tell him what to do like that, who did he … Oh… Right, yes… Soft D/s… Okay. He felt his cheeks burn as he turned to move to his bedroom, aware Rozanov was following behind with the bag.

They entered the bedroom. Shane moved towards the bed and turned to see Rozanov place the bag on his dresser and wait. When Shane didn’t move for a few seconds Rozanov raised one eyebrow “Well…?”

“Oh… Right… Yes.” Shane nervously undressed, carefully folding each item of clothing and placing them on a chair, until he stood in front of Rozanov in just his boxer briefs.

Rozanov looked him up and down and nodded. “Good. Now we will start slow. Is more important than anything else we trust each other. You must trust I will take care of you, and I must trust that you will tell me if anything is more than you can handle.”

“I read about … a safe-word?” Shane mumbled.

“Yes. Is something we could have but I want to keep things simple for us. Safe-word is just Stop, OK? You say it, I stop. I feel you letting me take you too far, I say stop, we stop. Clear?”

Shane nodded. “Clear. I um… Should I call you Master?”

Rozanov smiled and chuckled a little. “If you wish, but is not necessary. This is not the dynamic we are working with here. You are not same as that boy on the stage - what do you feel comfortable calling me?”

“Rozanov?” Shane answered, nervously wondering if it was too familiar or too formal.
Rozanov nodded as he accepted this answer “OK, so you address me like you address your teammates. Is interesting.”

“I can…” Shane started to backpedal.

“No, it is good. You trust your teammates, yes?”

Shane nodded. Rozanov winked at him. Shane felt his cock twitch, fuck that was sexy.

Rozanov slid his jacket off his shoulders and tossed it onto the chair Shane where had placed his clothes. He moved slowly and confidently towards Shane. When close enough he reached up to his head with one hand, slipping his fingers into his hair as he cupped the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss. Rozanov’s other arm snaked around Shane’s bare back. Shane’s hands moved to Rozanov’s waist before sliding down and back to his ass which seems to be poured into those jeans. He pulled him closer.

“Mmm you are so needy Shane, it is very sexy.” Rozanov whispered into his neck as his kisses moved along his jaw to that point just below his ear, making Shane moan in a way he didn’t know he was capable of.

“ ‘snice!” he managed to gasp as his hands moved up and under Rozanov’s tank top, touching his bare skin. “Want to see you.”

Rozanov’s hands braced on Shane’s hips and gently held him as he stepped back a little, grinning as Shane leaned forward, chasing the contact. Shane looked confused and Rozanov raised one hand to cup his cheek.

“You cannot see me if you are all over me, Shane.” He grinned, giving another of those sexy winks. He let go of Shane, took a further step back and lifted his tank top over his head in a dance of muscular ballet that Shane could watch on loop for hours. The body beneath the fabric did not disappoint. Creamy white skin dotted with moles of various sizes and shades. He looked like there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him, his abs a clearly defined 8 pack leading up to firm obliques and enormous pecs below those incredible shoulders and strong neck. His chest had a smattering of hair, his nipples dark and firm. There was a trail of hair leading from his belly button down into his jeans. Shane realized he was breathing heavily and growing hard in his briefs. His eyes started to follow that trail of hair. Rozanov seemed to notice as he reached for the button on his jeans, opening it with a flick of his fingers. Shane’s lips parted and he licked them as he watched.

“Good Shane, stay there. I want you to get a good view.” Rozanov’s voice was low. It made Shane shudder.

Rozanov slowly lowered the zip on his jeans, then hooked his fingers in the waistband and slid them over his hips along with his briefs.

Shane stared at Rozanov’s half hard cock hungrily now that he could see it, along with the rest of him. His thick thighs, his long defined calves. “You’re so beautiful.” he muttered unconsciously, speaking what was in his mind as Rozanov stepped out of his pants, kicking off his socks smoothly.

“I’m glad you think so. So are you Shane.”

Shane’s eyes moved back up to meet Rozanov’s at that. He’d been called many things, like handsome, but beautiful seemed… different.

Rozanov’s eyes lowered to Shane’s briefs… “Off.” he commanded .Shane responded with an ease and speed that astonished himself as he divested himself of the briefs in quick time. He made a move towards Rozanov who held out a hand to stop him.

“Wait.” he stopped Shane in his tracks. “Patience will get you reward.”

Shane stood breathless, hard and wanting, his eyes lowered to Rozanov’s feet. He wondered how did even those look so perfect as he waited for what felt like an eternity, but was probably only a minute. Finally Rozanov spoke again.

“Good Shane. OK, come.” Shane immediately stepped forward, dropping to his knees and nuzzled against Rozanov’s growing cock.

“You are so beautiful.” he repeated and took the cock into his mouth. He felt Rozanov’s fingers in his hair and heard him moan. He traced his tongue along the thick veins and under the bulbous head and foreskin.

“Fuck Shane!” Rozanov reached down, taking his face in both hands to guide him to his feet.

“Was it bad?” Shane asked, concerned.

Rozanov chuckled. “No.. opposite. Too much, too good.” He playfully wiped saliva from the side of Shane’s mouth with his thumb. “There is time, no need to rush things. Ok?”

Shane nodded and closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. He had no idea he needed this so much, but now the door was open. The needs he had denied for so long were pouring out of him.

“Lie on bed, on your stomach. I will relax you, I have massage oil. " Rozanov used his hands on Shane’s shoulders to gently turn him to the bed with a gentle tap on his ass to encourage him to move. Once he was moving Rozanov went to his bag and took out a few things. Shane climbed onto the bed as instructed and watched him, his heart racing again, wondering what was in that bag.

Rozanov turned around with 4 things in his hands. He held them individually to show Shane.

“As I said, we will go easy tonight, but you will get your wish. I will start with this massage oil, is very soothing and will get you used to my touch. Then this little finger vibrator, is small and light, not scary but a new sensation to start exploring that sexy ass of yours.”

Shane grinned and blushed at the same time.

“Then maybe we will try something more intimate, my mouth. Then, if you are ready and only if you are ok with it, we will use lube with small butt plug. OK? Remember, you can say Stop at any time.”

Shane swallowed, he’d never put anything in his ass. He’d thought about it, but never had the courage to take the necessary steps. “Sounds … awesome!” he chuckled nervously.

Rozanov brushed Shane’s bangs away from his eyes. “You are adorable boy Shane.” He smiled at him and it made Shane’s stomach flip flop happily.

Rozanov put everything on the night stand, except the massage oil. He crawled onto the bed behind Shane. He straddled his hips and Shane moaned softly at the sensation of Rozanov’s soft ball sack resting over the crevice of his ass cheeks. Rozanov leaned forward, placing both hands on either side of Shane’s head and placed soft kisses on his neck and shoulders. “For now, I want you to relax and enjoy this, empty your mind and bring yourself here with me completely. No worries, no cares about anything or anyone else. Tonight is about your pleasure, your wishes. No judgment, no fears.”

“Mmm Mmm” Shane responded with soft moans as Rozanov’s kisses nuzzled into that spot under his ear he now knew was definitely an erogenous zone. He felt Rozanov smile there.

“Was that a response Shane?” he asked, biting his shoulder lightly.

Shane gasped. “Um… I mean. Yes. Yes no worries, no fears.” Just being here, trapped by Rozanov’s body had such a powerful sedative effect on him.

“Good boy.” Rozanov moved and sat back on his knees. Shane heard the click of the massage oil bottle being opened. The sound of Rozanov rubbing his hands together to warm the oil, and then, Oh!

Rozanov’s hands were so warm, almost hot. The oil smelled of citrus and cedar, a deep masculine scent. Shane breathed in deeply as Rozanov’s hands moved over his shoulders and traps. His fingers pressed into his flesh, not as deeply as the team’s Sport’s Masseur would do, but enough to firmly ground Shane and ease out the tension. Rozanov moved slow and sensually, making Shane practically purr into the comforter. For a brief moment he considered that he should have laid down a towel, but as quickly as the thought came it was pushed away when Rozanov’s hands moved lower and his thumbs pressed firmly to trace up each side of his spine. “Fuck!”

“Is ok?” Rozanov checked in.

“’s ok” Shane managed to respond. “S..so good.”

He heard Rozanov’s soft laugh and breathed in the sound along with the scent of the oil. Making Rozanov happy was intoxicating.

“You have good skin Shane, very smooth.” Rozanov commented.

“Nice…hands.” Shane tried to return a compliment but couldn’t properly form the sentence.

“Ssh.” Rozanov gently guided, “No need to talk, just enjoy.”

Rozanov’s hands continued to slide lower and were now pressing in the flesh around the base of his spine. He had scooted his own body further down Shane’s and was resting on the back of Shane’s knees when each hand slid to cup an ass cheek and squeeze and press into them. Shane shuddered and moaned loudly.

“Fuck yes!” he cried out and felt Rozanov lean over him again to place soft kisses at the base of his spine.

“Such a responsive boy Shane, you have been wasted hiding away.” he said low and deep as he continued his descent along Shane’s body until he had massaged his thighs, calves and even his feet. By the end Shane felt as boneless as a rag doll and more than a little dozy.

So dozy he barely registered Rozanov moving to pick up the finger vibrator. It was only when he heard the buzzing that his awareness started to come back. He started, wondering what would happen. Rozanov’s hand rested firmly at the base of his spine, aware of Shane’s sudden movement. “Shhh, I have you Shane, you are safe.”

The reassurance settled him quickly, too quickly, he thought briefly as he stilled.

“I’m going to put this against your thigh, so you can feel that it is just gentle vibration, ok?” Rozanov checked in.

“‘’s.. ok” Shane sleepily consented.

Next he felt the vibration on his thigh and grinned “Tickles.”

He felt Rozanov chuckling again. “Oh, you are ticklish, this will be fun!” He kept the tip of the vibrator on Shane’s skin as he moved it slowly up his thigh and along the side of his ass cheek then slowly moved it up. Over the cheek, and moved it around randomly, slowly inching towards the crevice. He moved it away again and repeated the same action on the other side. This time, he allowed the toy to rest at the top of the crevice for a few moments, making Shane lick his lips in anticipation. Then, with his other hand Rozanov eased one cheek away from the other as he slowly lowered the vibrator down between them.

Shane’s breath stuttered as the vibrations grew closer to his hole. His cock was so hard he involuntarily moved to hump against the bed. Rozanov took the toy away and Shane groaned. “No. why?”

“I want you to be still right now, needy kitten. If you move, I will take the toy away. Don’t worry, you will be rewarded.” Rozanov’s voice seeped into him. Did he call him Kitten again? Why was he starting to like that?

“OK” He pouted. Rozanov returned the toy to the top of his ass crevice and restarted the descent. When he reached the edge of his hole and circled it once, without Shane moving, he let out a satisfied sound.

“Good boy. You want this, yes? To feel something against your ass, to touch you where nobody has touched?” Shane felt something else, it had to be Rozanov’s finger also touching him there, lightly but slowly gaining more pressure. Oh Fuck, he was going to die if he didn’t relieve the pressure in his cock, but Christ this felt incredible and he was not going to move and have it stop.

“You have a beautiful ass Shane, round and firm like it should be for athlete. I enjoy watching it on ice as you bash other players against boards. So sexy.”

Shane could only groan and moan as Rozanov circled his hole with the vibrator and his finger in tandem. Rozanov pressed against the hole with his finger, to allow just a tiny bit of the tip to enter, making Shane cry out.

“Is ok Shane, I won’t go deeper, not tonight, you are so very very tight. You are ok?”

“Fuck Rozanov, yes… Yes, I’m ok.”

Rozanov removed his finger and massaged Shane’s ass cheek before moving the vibrator away as well. He kissed each cheek and separated them both leaving Shane’s hole exposed.

“You remember next step? You want? Is ok if not, you have done good.”

All Shane knew was that he didn’t want this to stop, ever. It was too good, and he’d already missed so much. “I want … please… please… Don’t stop yet.”

He heard a happy sound from Rozanov, somewhere between a grunt and withheld laugh.

“Such a brave boy. You learn very fast, Shane. So sexy.”

Shane felt a light tap on his thighs as Rozanov lifted his weight from him. “On your hands and knees is best. Up!”

Shane whimpered at the sudden loss of touch. He moved without even a second thought to lift himself up on his knees, his thighs already shaking in anticipation. He looked back over his shoulder, now able to see Rozanov again. He looked flushed, a little sweaty and fully hard. Fuck that cock was beautiful. His own cock had been leaking heavily all over the comforter. When Rozanov caught his gaze and offered another sexy wink he had to scrunch his eyes closed and force himself not to come there and then.

Rozanov’s hands were on him again, his lips placing soft kisses on his back as his hands massaged his ass cheeks. “Do not come Shane, not yet. I will tell you. It will be worth it.” Rozanov commanded and Shane groaned. Fuck this was perfect.

The kisses moved lower and as Rozanov’s hands parted his cheeks he felt them grow closer and closer to his hole… Fuck …Fuck… He forgot how to breathe as he felt the wetness of the tip of Rozanov’s tongue flick across his hole. Finally he gasped out “Oh my God!”

Rozanov paused, resting his cheek against Shane’s ass. “Still ok?”

“Fuck yes, don’t stop please.” he begged. His throbbing cock leaked more and more and his balls felt like they would explode. He tried to breathe through it as Rozanov’s tongue returned and playfully circled his hole. Shane was muttering under his breath, not even aware that his thoughts were out loud when he whispered that he wanted to be his good boy so much.

He pushed back onto Rozanov’s face, heard him moan, which made Shane do it more until Rozanov grabbed his hips. “OK, needy boy, I get the message. " He chuckled and when he went back to let his tongue push into Shane’s hole. Just then one of Rozanov’s hands reached around and grabbed hold of his cock. Shane cried out loudly “Holy Fuck!”

Rozanov’s tongue now continued diving in and out of his hole, not very deep but enough that Shane could feel the stretch. Shane’s cock was being stroked firmly and he didn’t know if he could hold on any more…. “Fuck…. Rozanov… Please … Please…” he begged breathlessly.

“OK Shane, cum for me now.” Rozanov growled and returned to tonguing him as Shane let go, shooting ropes of cum over his comforter as he cried out loudly . “Fuck, god yes…Rozanov, fuck.” His mind was gone, he was just a ball of sensation and pleasure. He’d never felt so good in his life.

As he came down, Rozanov guided him to lie on his side, avoiding the wet patch. He spooned behind him, holding him tight and nuzzling his neck. It took Shane a minute or so to even realize where he was. He turned in Rozanov’s arms and curled into him, face tucked into his neck. His breathing was starting to slow, his hand resting over Rozanov’s heart as Rozanov held him tightly and stroked his hair.

Shane felt something he never remembered ever feeling before. Vulnerable. Yet, here in this man’s arms, he knew he was safe. It was the most unbelievable feeling. They lay like that for a while, silent and secure together. Eventually, Shane slowly lifted his head. He could have sworn he saw tears in Rozanov’s eyes.

Rozanov looked at him with his confident grin. “There you are. Shane, you did so good.”

Shane smiled shyly, realizing how stupid it was to be shy after what they’d just done. “I … I don’t know what to say… Um… Thank you?”

Rozanov lifted a hand and stroked Shane’s chin. “Adorable, needy Kitten, you are welcome.”

Shane snuggled closer into Rozanov’s chest. “Never losing that name, am I?”

Rozanov chuckled. “It describes you perfectly. I can use Russian Kotenok if you prefer.”

“I guess I can pretend that is more manly.” Shane sighed. “I feel like I’m floating. Is this… Um … subspace?”

Rozanov returned to holding him “Yes Kotenok, it probably is. Is normal and OK, I will take care of you. We stay here a little while, then I clean you up and make you drink water.”

“You don’t need to…” Shane started, but Rozanov stopped him.

“I do Shane, it is important, for you and for me. It is part of my job as Dom, to take care of you.”

“OK” Shane responded sleepily, then started suddenly “Oh God, you didn’t … Um, should I?” He started to move down to suck on Rozanov’s cock. He was stopped with firm hands and guided back to resting on his chest.

“There is no need, Shane, I am good, tonight was for you. Rest.”

Shane allowed his eyes to close and let himself enjoy floating in this man’s strong arms. His heartbeat drummed against his fingertips, he enjoyed the soft kisses he felt in his hair from time to time.

Eventually Rozanov moved. “OK Kotenok, come sit on edge of bed. I will bring washcloth and towel.” Rozanov stood and guided Shane up to sitting. He kissed his head again before saying “Stay here, I will return.” Shane nodded, still feeling so light he could blow away in a breeze.

Soon Rozanov returned with a glass of water and a warm washcloth. He carefully cleaned Shane up. He put the glass in Shane’s hand and instructed him to drink as he pulled the dirty comforter off the bed. He pulled back the sheets beneath and guided Shane back to lie under them as he sat on the edge of the bed. He looked down at him with a soft smile that made Shane’s stomach fizz again.

“It is time for me to leave, Shane.” he said softly. Shane thought he looked sad. He reached out and placed his hand over Rozanov’s.

“Stay longer please, hold me again? Please?” He was aware he was begging. He did not want to be alone, even more than he did not want to be without this man. “I will pay, of course.” The words left his mouth and he thought he caught a grimace on Rozanov’s face.

Rozanov seemed to correct his expression and smiled softly. “Of course, if that is what you want, Kotenok.”

Shane nodded and shuffled across to allow Rozanov to climb in with him. Shane slipped back into his arms, his head tucked against his neck. Rozanov gently stroked his hair.

Shane closed his eyes and rested his hand over Rozanov’s heart again. His mind was peaceful, quiet. He was safe, warm and happy. Was hockey worth denying himself this? That was a thought for another night, for now he could just float and know Rozanov would not let him float away.

Chapter End Notes

Chapter 11

Chapter Summary

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Ilya groaned as the sunlight filtered through his eyelids. It felt early. He told himself to resist opening his eyes and just sleep a little more. He would have, until he felt the movement beside him. His eyes flew open. FUCK!

They had both fallen asleep, it was morning and Shane was still asleep half lay on him snoring in the cutest way. He had shifted a little and Ilya could see his face. He looked so innocent and so peaceful and he even had a soft smile. It was adorable. Nevertheless, he never ever slept over with a client. He’d intended maybe an hour more, to help Shane come back to himself, then he could go home with another job well done.

Except, last night was more than that, and if he was honest with himself, he had known it would be. He had tried to convince himself he was just doing what the client wanted, as he always had done. He was so worried Shane would see the contract and tell him he’d made a mistake. Something about this adorable, shy hockey player drew him in so quickly he hadn’t felt it happening until he was already completely hooked in. He’d spent the Saturday after his blood test searching for the right outfit, fixing his hair, making sure he looked good for Shane. This was not what he did. He did not get attached, nothing but pain came from that, he knew, but he could not stop any of it.

To hear Shane’s gasps and moans of pleasure last night was like a potent drug. He wanted to please him in every possible way, in every way Shane had denied himself until last night. Ilya continued to watch Shane sleep as he remembered how responsive Shane had been, how easily he obeyed, and how needy he was for touch. He was perfect. And he should not be thinking these things about a client. He should go. He knew he wouldn’t be able to leave without waking Shane though, so he’d watch him, for a little while longer at least.

********

Shane was vaguely aware of the light, which meant he should be up. Go for a run. But he was so comfortable, so warm, he didn’t want to make that final leap from the floaty half-dream into full consciousness. Then there was a shift beneath him. He became aware the warmth came from skin, the comfort from being held. He was still here, Rozanov.

Memories from the previous night trickled into his mind as he slowly opened his eyes to find Rozanov looking right at him.

“Good morning” Shane croaked sleepily.

Rosanov sighed “Good morning Shane… I’m sorry, I was not supposed to fall asleep. This is my fault, you do not have to pay, I will go.”

Shane grumbled and grabbed onto Rozanov’s body as he tried to pull away and pulled him back to him. “No… No… Um… You fell asleep, it’s ok… Let me make… Um … Will you stay for breakfast, at least?”

“I should not, Shane.” Rozanov protested weakly. Shane looked visibly hurt and Rozanov’s resolve crumbled. “OK. But this is not how it will be every time. It is … dangerous.”

Shane smiled. Smiled wider when he saw Ilya’s soft smile back at him. “I haven’t woken up feeling this refreshed in …. ever” he told the Russian.

Rozanov gently brushed Shane’s bangs back from his face. “You did good, you are good boy. Follow directions well, mostly.” Rozanov shrugged and moved to sit up on the side of the bed. Shane had to hold back a whimper from the loss of his touch. He wanted his man too much. He was just a client, he needed to get a grip.

Shane got up on the other side of the bed and walked over to his dresser to open a drawer and retrieve clean briefs. “You can shower, if you want, I’ll go make breakfast.” He nodded towards the door to his en-suite.

Rozanov seemed a little misty eyed as he nodded in response. “I think I will, thank you.”

Shane pulled on some joggers and headed out to the kitchen, hoping to gain some distance from the awkwardness.

He filled up the coffee maker he never used, assuming Rozanov would probably like coffee. He couldn’t just offer his usual protein shake for breakfast, so he found some eggs and flour (thanks Mom) and started making pancakes. He had lots of fresh fruit and berries, and his Mom had also made sure he had maple syrup. He could make some eggs too, giving options. He whisked the batter and wondered if this was what it was like to have a boyfriend. Someone who slept over regularly, who he could cook for and care for.

He poured the batter into the frying pan and reminded himself that Rozanov was NOT his boyfriend and he couldn’t HAVE a boyfriend. Fuck, life sucked!! But for now, Rozanov was still here. Oh God did he feel so good last night. He had no idea such pleasure was possible. He had been completely out of his head for hours… It was incredible.

Just as the pancakes were done Ilya wandered out of the bedroom, wet hair slicked back. In his jeans and tank top he looked like sex on legs and Shane’s cock twitched at the thought of seeing that sight every morning.

“I hope you like pancakes.” he offered, and blushed when Rosanov’s face lit up like a little boy’s.

“I love pancakes, and you’re making them from scratch? Nobody has made me pancakes in a very long time. Thank you.” He sat on the stool at the breakfast bar. From the other side of the bar Shane slid the plate of pancakes and some bowls of strawberries and blueberries as well as the maple syrup.

“I can make eggs?” Shane offered as he worked on his own shake. Rozanov shook his head.

“You have done enough, thank you Kotenok.” He grinned as he tucked in enthusiastically.

Shane watched him and smiled, happy he had seemed to put him in a better mood.

“Listen, I would like to make this a regular thing, maybe um… Weekly? Is that too much?”

He sipped on his shake and hoped he hadn’t ruined the mood.

Rozanov shook his head. “We can do this, I think Saturday nights is good.”

Shane nodded. “Yes, I think so, no practice on Sunday. Of course I will be away some times so…”

Rozanov answered with his mouth full “Of course. I follow your team so I will know when you are playing in other city. I will cheer for you when I see you on TV.”

Shane grinned. “I appreciate that… Oh hey! As you’re a fan, let me give you a gift?” He moved away to another room before Rozanov could swallow the bite he was chewing and stop him. He returned with a Metros team scarf, pulled open a drawer on the desk he passed on the way back and signed it with a Sharpie before handing it to Rozanov. “Hope it’s not weird, me giving you this?”

Rozanov was grinning widely as he examined the scarf and the autograph. “No… No Shane, it is perfect. My sister will be jealous.”

“I could get another.” Shane moved to go back and Rozanov grabbed him.

“No, it is ok. She is sexy and beautiful. She can find her own hockey player if she wants to.” He gave a side smile and Shane blushed.

“Your sister came to Canada with you?” Shane asked curiously and Rozanov’s expression darkened.

“No, she is Russian like me, but she is foster sister really. Also my best friend.” He shifted uncomfortably then stood from the stool . “Thank you for breakfast, and gift. I must go, we will meet next Saturday here again?”

Shane was a bit stunned at the sudden change of mood and Rozanov’s rush to leave. He nodded dumbly.

Rozanov went back to the bedroom and returned with his bag. He moved towards the door but stopped on the way to turn to Shane. “We did not use butt plug last night. You are very tight, if you want you might get your own, it will help you.”

“Right, ok. Um.” Shane stammered moving towards him.

“I will text you good website, discrete packaging.” Rozanov stood almost like a statue watching Shane walk towards him

“I appreciate that.” Shane muttered, finally standing in front of him again.

Rozanov looked at him for a few moments before sighing and leaning in to kiss him softly.

“Until next week, Shane.” he said low against his ear before turning, heading to the door and quickly leaving.

The door closed behind him. Shane was motionless. Tears brimmed in his eyes. Fuck.

*****

Ilya got out of the elevator, left the building as fast as he could and ran to the end of the block before finding an alley to duck into. Out of sight, he slid down the wall and sobbed.

Chapter End Notes

Chapter 12

Chapter Summary

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Moscow, Russia 2000

“Ilyushen’ka, it is time for school, wake up.” Ilya’s mother gently shook the boy from his sleep. He groaned and tried to turn over, but she grabbed him by the shoulders. “No, there is no more sleep Time to wake up and go learn.”

Ilya slowly opened his eyes and let out a big yawn as he stretched. “OK mama, I’m awake.”

His beautiful mama smiled down at him. “OK sweet boy, be quick or your father will be angry.”

Ilya nodded, swiftly got out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom. He was washed and dressed and downstairs in less than 10 minutes. His father sat at the table with Ilya’s older brother Alexei. His mother was rushing around them, making sure they had enough to eat, pouring coffee, being shouted at by his father, as usual.

“Why do I keep you as a wife? You cook like a schoolgirl and look like a haggard witch.” his father moaned. Ilya took in a deep breath and suppressed the growl he wanted to let out. He knew it would only make things worse for her if he said anything. Instead he remained silent and sat down, next to his brother. He reached for some bread and his father slapped his hand down.

“You sleep late, always lazy! You will not get anything until we are finished.” he growled. Ilya pulled his stinging hand away and clasped it with his other hand on his lap.

“Yes Papa.” he answered quietly.

“Yes Papa! He says, like he is an innocent boy and not a lazy dog!” his father continued. Ilya remained silent.

His father stood, chair screeching across the linoleum floor. He looked at Ilya’s mother and spat out “He is your son, not mine. I did not create this lazy beast. I knew you were a whore!” before grabbing his briefcase and leaving the house, slamming the door.

Ilya looked to his mother, the tears in her eyes and bit back his own tears. He hoped he wasn’t that monster’s son, he hoped one day his mother would take him away and they would be happy and laugh together. He reached again for some bread and Alexei slapped his hand down like his father had done. “I am still here, lazy dog!”

Ilya hit back at his brother, getting a good jab at his ribs. “Better a lazy dog than a stupid sheep.”

Alexei winced in pain from the punch and tears sprung to his eyes “Mama! Ilya hurt me!”

“Well you should not have hit him first” she told Alexei, making the older brother frown and Ilya beam with delight in his face. “… And you should not hit your brother either, Ilyushen’ka. You know better.” she chided and when Alexei grinned back at Ilya before leaving the table, she winked at Ilya when his back was turned. He loved his Mama.

He left for school after grabbing some bread and scramble. It was not different to any morning he could remember. That evening though, would live with him forever.

“Mama, I’m home!” Ilya shouted joyfully entering the house after school. This was his favorite time, the hour before his brother and his father came home, when it was just his Mama and him. She would sing to him and they would paint pictures and dance.It was the only time he felt absolute joy.

He didn’t hear her answer and frowned. “Mama!” he shouted again as he moved through the first floor of their small house but he didn’t see her. He headed up the stairs and shouted again. She was always home. She would have done her shopping after they had left for school, there was no reason for her to not be home. He opened the door to his parent’s bedroom. There were clothes thrown around and the mirror was knocked over but no sign of his Mama. He checked his brother’s room, then his own. Only the bathroom was left. He was feeling frightened as he opened the door slowly. The light crept in through the narrow window. His heart skipped when he spotted a hand on the floor, his Mama’s hand.

“Mama!” He rushed forward to kneel at her side. She lay like she was asleep. She was on her side, her head resting on one outstretched arm, the other dropping down with fingers dangling above an empty pill bottle.

“Mama, wake up!” He shook her and she fell forward into his knees. It was then that he saw it. Her dress was torn on her back, long rips through the fabric, stained red with blood. He could see the open wounds on her back, like someone had struck her multiple times with a whip or a cane. What monster could do this to his beautiful Mama?

Ilya rubbed away the tears in his eyes. He had to be strong and help her. He had to save his Mama. “Mama, please wake up.” he shouted, weakly trying to lift her lifeless form from his body. He touched her face. “Mama, please.” He sobbed. She was cold. “MAMA!!” he screamed and slumped over her, hugged her as he sobbed uncontrollably. This could not be real, she could not be gone. His joy was gone.

His father found them. Ilya was only aware when he heard him shout to Alexei to stay downstairs and go get the police. He looked up weakly, still sobbing, and saw his father fill the doorframe staring blankly back at him.

“Who did this, Papa? Who hurt Mama?” he begged.

His father looked at him sternly. “Go to your room. Stay there.”

Ilya shook his head, his arms clinging to his mother’s body. “No papa, we must find who hurt Mama.” he cried.

“NOW!” His father roared. Ilya shakily stood, and taking one last look at his beautiful mother, ran to his room and sobbed into his pillow. It was a dream, it must be a terrible dream.

Ilya heard the sound of people coming up the stairs, voices. His father saying someone must have attacked his wife, how she must have died from the wounds. Alexei asked questions, their father again told him to remain in his room and not to look. He heard his father through the thin walls sound distressed and shocked at his wife’s death, he heard him go to Alexei, tell him that his mother was dead, comfort him. He heard her body being taken away and his father scrubbing the bathroom. Nobody came to him. It grew dark and quiet, and nobody came.

Ilya needed the bathroom and could not wait longer. He quietly opened his bedroom door and crept fearfully along the hall back towards the bathroom. He knew she wouldn’t be there, but his heart pounded anyway. He touched the door and his stomach lurched, fearful of what he might see. It was like nothing had happened.The bathroom was clean and tidy, for a moment he wondered if it really had been an awful dream. He relieved himself. Unable to get the idea out of his mind that he had been sitting in fear because of a nightmare, he headed to his parents room and opened the door quietly hoping to find his Mama sleeping in bed. He saw his father, oblivious to his presence, moving some things from the top of the wardrobe. Then picking up a whip and tossing it into the space at the back.

His Mama wasn’t there … and his father was the reason. Rage built within the small boy so quickly his ears rang with it, and as his father picked up a box to shove in front of the whip Ilya charged into the room screaming “It was you! It was you! You killed Mama. Murderer!” He kicked and punched at his father who quickly got hold of his arms and picked him up so his feet left the ground. He held him at arms’ length as Ilya continued to kick and scream at him, more tears running down the boy’s already tear stained face.

“Stop this boy, stop this lie. I did not kill her, the coward killed herself with those stupid pills she takes. I did not kill her!” he shouted back at Ilya, who struggled in his grasp. His father threw him onto the bed and reached back into the wardrobe to grasp at the whip. “Be quiet, or I will show you what real pain is.” he warned, holding the whip over Ilya’s shaking frame.

Ilya stilled, wet eyes wide and his body trembling, “Why, Papa? Why did you hate Mama?”

The question seemed to make his father pause. He lowered the whip and sighed heavily.

“Get out, go to your room and stay there until I tell you. You speak with nobody. Go, now!”

Ilya moved slowly, carefully off the bed. He saw a necklace on a dresser, a cross that he knew belonged to his Mama. He reached out, his fingers closed around it and he snatched it, holding it to his body. He moved out of the room, never turning his back on his father. If he got to his room, he’d already decided what he would do.

Moscow 2001

His new school was awful. He knew nobody, and there were days when Ilya regretted running away to the opposite side of the city to his mother’s sister. He had told her what he had seen, but his father came the next day and told her that Ilya was sick like his mother. He claimed a stranger had beaten her to death while he worked.

Ilya had refused to return home with his father In the end it was agreed he would stay with his Aunt. Nobody believed him, his heart was broken, and his Mama was not there to hold him and make him feel better. He only had the necklace, which he wore always. He moved through the days like they were treacle, slow and heavy with grief, with no end.

There was one, small light. Sasha, a boy at the new school who had started at the same time. They were both outcasts because they were new. They would spend lunchtimes together swapping whatever had been packed for them that they didn’t like. He was a pretty boy, with dark brown hair and bright green eyes that Ilya thought might glow like cat’s eyes. They became friends. Sometimes Ilya would look at him and think he was pretty, like the models in the magazines they read together, but different because he was a boy. It was confusing.

One day, as they ate their lunch outside sitting on a wall, two of the school bullies approached. Sasha saw them first and nudged Ilya.

“Run!” Ilya whispered. Both boys abandoned their lunches, leapt off the wall and ran in the opposite direction. The bullies pursued and the chase led them around the school yard twice, before Sasha who was faster than Ilya found a spot behind the industrial trashcans outside the kitchen. He yanked Ilya into the gap with him. The boys were pressed together face to face breathing heavily, praying not to be seen as they heard the bullies calling to each other nearby. Ilya’s heart was racing from the run, but also because of something else. His eyes locked on Sasha’s and before he knew what he was doing he had leaned in and kissed him.

The next thing he knew he was on his ass and Sasha was running away, as the bullies rounded on Ilya and punched and kicked him until a teacher finally pulled them away. Ilya was taken to the nurses office and his Aunt was called to collect him. He was covered in bruises with a black eye and split lip. When his Aunt arrived, she told him she had been told to bring him to the principal’s office before they left.

Ilya gasped when he saw Sasha in the principal’s office. The principal asked Sasha “Is this the boy?” and Sasha nodded. Ilya stood motionless, his head shaking in disbelief. The principal was saying something to his Aunt about perverted behavior and suspension from school, but all Ilya could do was stare at Sasha and feel his heart shatter yet again.

His Aunt dragged him straight to his father and told him. His father had remarried a younger woman named Polina who sat pale faced at his Mama’s kitchen table peeling vegetables. His Aunt said she would not house a pervert, and his father had refused to take him back. Ilya sat quietly heartbroken as he watched his brother sit watching the television with his filthy shoes on his Mama’s chair and eating Ice Cream while this argument took place. Finally he stood up.

“I do not want to live with either of you. I hate you. I will look after myself.” He marched out of the house and as he reached the end of the road he turned and realized, nobody had come after him. He realised again, now his Mama was gone, he had nobody.

Moscow 2002

Ilya shivered under the duffle coat he was using as a blanket. His things had been stolen three times already since he had been on the streets. The only thing he still had was his Mama’s cross which he wore around his neck always. Once again he would need to start from nothing.

Snow was falling and he was starving. He had found shelter in an abandoned warehouse. While there was no glass in the windows to keep out the cold, at least it was almost dry. He wasn’t the only homeless person here, but he had found a corner to himself, and huddled there all day trying to sleep. At night he would make some money if the snow didn’t fall too hard. That was when the men came, looking for boys like him to make them feel good. He would go out and take cash for a handjob or and blowjob. Some of the boys let the men touch them and fuck them, but he would not do this. Not unless he had no other option. Once had been enough. He mostly made enough to feed himself, buy clothes and blankets to keep warm. Until someone stole them the moment his back was turned, or, once, directly from under his nose as they held him at knife point. Still, he would rather this than look again at his murderer father.

When darkness fell, Ilya stepped out into the streets. He knew the popular spots, he even had regular customers now. He had developed his skills and could make most men come within 2 minutes. He headed towards his target area for the night. A street near some popular clubs, far enough away to not draw too much attention, lots of broken streetlights to make the alleys dark and discrete but close enough to draw traffic.

He picked a corner, leaned back against the wall and waited. His hair had grown long, the curls now past his neck. He liked this androgynous look, and his clients liked it too. He figured it made them feel better to be sucked off by a boy that at least looked like a girl.

Men wandered past, glanced at him and from time to time one would walk into the alley, Ilya would follow. Business conducted, he would be back on the corner in 5 minutes. They didn’t ask his age, he wouldn’t tell them if they did. In his heart he knew he looked his age, and in his head he convinced himself 12 was almost 16 anyway, right?

A man in a long wool coat approached, Ilya hadn’t seen him before. He watched him look all around him, checking nobody would see him before turning in the alley. As usual Ilya followed. In the comfort of darkness he told him “10 rubles for my hand, 20 for my mouth.” He heard the man grunt and appear to fish for coins in his pockets. He stepped closer, and out of nowhere Ilya felt his jaw break as the man’s fist hit him firmly knocking him to ground. He couldn’t shout. He could only groan, before he felt a kick to his stomach, then another, then one to his head and then everything went dark.

He woke to the feeling of a soft hand on his forehead, while another pressed a cool cloth around his face. “Mama?” he asked groggily.

“No beautiful boy, I am not your Mama, I am Olga.” Ilya’s eyes opened. He saw the round face of a middle aged lady who wore a lot of make-up. She was looking at him with such concern it made his heart squeeze. “What is your name?” she asked him.

His eyes looked past her. They were inside a warm room, he was lying on a soft bed, there were plush fabrics on the furniture and windows. Where was he? “Ilya.” he croaked and winced at the pain in his jaw. She nodded and pressed her cool cloth there.

“Yes, that will take some time to heal. Don’t try to speak. I should take you to hospital, but something tells me you do not wish to be found by the authorities. "

Ilya nodded. He tried to sit up, but everything hurt. Olga gently pressed him back to the bed. “It is ok, you are safe here. You boys out there risking your lives…Is what you run from really so bad?” She muttered mostly to herself. “Maybe it is, what do I know?” She shrugged.

She stood and looked back at Ilya. “Sleep, it is the best way to heal. You are safe, I promise. I will bring Borscht later, you look like you haven’t eaten in a long time… I will need to blend it… A tragedy but you cannot chew with a broken jaw. "

In the days and weeks that followed Ilya learned that Olga was a Dominatrix; she ran a club in the city that had private rooms in the back. Ilya was staying in her personal suite on an upper floor. She told him another boy she knew had found Ilya and came to her for help.

They had carried him to her home where she had dressed his wounds and taken care of him until he woke, and then for days after. She was kind to Ilya, who could not speak for 8 weeks and so couldn’t tell her his story. Nevertheless, she fed him, brought him new clothes and made sure he was warm and safe. When they spent time together when she wasn’t working, she would talk to him about her clients. He learned a lot about BDSM from that. He was fascinated by the dynamics and about how much care went into what seemed to be just violence from the outside.

When he was finally able to talk to her and share his story, she wept for him and he wept with her. It was the first time since he had his Mama that he truly felt cared for. She insisted he would not go back to working the streets. She employed him to clean the rooms instead and kept him living with her. One day she told him she had heard of a way he might be able to get out of Russia, a country which was growing increasingly dangerous for boys like him. He found later that she had reached out to a Canadian charity called Rainbow Railroad, and told them his story.

Then the day came. Olga bundled him into the back of a truck, hidden between boxes. She kissed his hair and told him to have a good life, forget Moscow and the pain there. To be the good person she knew he was in his heart. He never forgot that wish she had for him.

He was secretly put on a cargo plane. Someone was there waiting for him when he landed in Montreal. He spent a week in a group home before being fostered by the Petrov family. They were second generation Russian and had already fostered Sveta. He liked them, they were good to him. They helped him with his asylum application, helped him adjust to life in a different country, got him interested in Ice Hockey, put him back in school and cared for him. But by now he had learned not to let himself become attached.

When Sveta had said she wanted to leave and get her own place when Ilya was 16, he begged her to let him come with her. Sveta had her own story, and it was their shared trauma that kept them bonded.

Ilya met Jared when he was 18. He was collecting glasses at the club which predated “Secrets”. Jared had just bought the building and was assessing which staff he would keep. When Jared told him what kind of club “Secrets” would be, Ilya told him he didn’t want to collect glasses. He had other plans for his life, and now that he was a man he could carry out his plan.

Montreal 2008

Ilya dried his eyes and stood up. He felt drained. The tears hadn’t flowed from him like that in years. He breathed heavily and wondered, what it was that had triggered this breakdown?

Shane.

Something about Shane had brought back that boy he once was. 18, the age Ilya had fully taken control of his own life. Yet Shane was Innocent and confused, so eager to please and yet so frightened of letting that light shine. Crippled by injustice and dogma when all he wanted to do was be his authentic self. It was terrible, and beautiful all at once.

He didn’t know what he would do next. He knew he needed to see him again though.

Chapter End Notes

Chapter 13

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

In the week leading up to his next visit to Shane’s penthouse Ilya has spent his time either at the club, with clients, at the gym or running. Anything not to think about the fact that Shane Hollander was going to be his ruin. Because as much as he told himself he should, he couldn’t back away now.

Shane had messaged him Wednesday.

Jane I got what you suggested, going to try it tonight.

Ilya Take it slow, lots of lube.

Then on Friday he messaged again.

JaneWant to continue where we left off. Operation BP was a success, kinda nice!

Ilya had chuckled at that and sent a baby with a pacifier emoji which had Shane responding with a howling laugh.

When he arrived on Saturday Shane seemed almost like a different man. He welcomed Ilya in easily and immediately handed over the cash, saying he wanted that part over as soon as possible so they could get started.

Ilya was amused and more than a little aroused by this newfound confidence.

Shane had played two games this week and scored multiple goals in both. Ilya decided it was best not to mention hockey though, unless Shane brought it up. Ilya’s job was to get Shane relaxed and not thinking so much.

Shane led Ilya by the hand to his bedroom. When he turned to find Ilya smiling broadly he blushed. “What?”

“Is nothing, just you are going so quickly. Did you literally mean continue where we left off, or did you perhaps want a little easing in, eh? Relax, Shane. You are my only Saturday client, there is no rush.” Ilya placed his bag down and slipped off his jacket.

“What did you bring this time?” Shane asked, curiously looking at the bag.

Ilya stepped into Shane’s space and gently walked him back towards the bed. “Ah, that is for me to know. Now undress like good Kotenok.” He lowered his tone and grinned in that way he had noticed Shane really seemed to respond to. Shane visibly melted. Ilya swallowed, this was going to be a tough night.

Shane undressed. Again he neatly folded his clothes and placed them on the dresser, moving Ilya’s jacket, neatly hanging it on the back of the wardrobe door. Ilya loved this little quirk. Shane having everything so neat and in place and yet - Ilya could have him coming apart all over his bedspread so easily.

Ilya nodded to the bed and Shane climbed on.

“Now, to continue where we left off. I think I left you with some homework.” Ilya said dryly as he moved a chair to the end of the bed.

“Show me your work, Shane Hollander.” He said, sitting down and leaning back with a grin.

“What?” Shane said nervously.

“Show me what you did for your assignment, Shane. I want to see.” Ilya raised an eyebrow. Shane chewed his lip.

“I’ve never….”

“I know Shane. So show me.” he pressed. He wanted to get Shane out of his comfort zone, and fast. He wondered if he’d back out, if he was pushing too soon.

Shane took a few breaths, his eyes locked on Ilya’s. Then he turned to his bedside table, opening it and bringing out a bottle of lube and a fairly large sized butt plug. Ilya’s eyes widened. “I said the smaller one.”

Shane blushed. “That was Wednesday This was last night.”

Fuck this man and his insistence on moving so quickly. “Is dangerous so soon, you could hurt yourself. I hope you took your time.”

Shane nodded. “Yes, and lots of lube. I wanted something closer to…” He stopped.

“What?” Ilya knew what was coming, but wanted to hear it.

“Closer to your size.” Shane whispered, blushing. Ilya grinned.

“Oh really? So is this plan for tonight, or later?”

“I um … Maybe tonight?” Shane was flushed red down to his chest now.

“OK, well if you want me to fuck you tonight, you had better be good boy. Show me your assignment.”

Shane exhaled and closed his eyes. He let his hand stroke across his chest, brushing around his nipples, then slide down along his abs. He took hold of his already hard cock and stroked it lazily.

“Let me see your eyes, Kotenok.” Ilya commanded, his own dick twitching involuntarily in his pants.

Shane’s eyes opened, dark and unfocused. Ilya licked his lips. “Keep going.”

Shane spread his legs, lifting his knees. He adjusted his hips so now his hole was visible beneath his balls. His hand caressed his balls lightly, before moving further down to allow his finger to circle his hole. His other hand uncapped the lube bottle. In a smooth motion he moved his finger away, covered it in lube and returned it to his hole, as if he had choreographed the whole thing.

“Nice, Kotenok, you are doing well. Show me how you open yourself.”

Shane moaned at the praise as he spread the lube around the edge of his hole, before pressing his finger inside. It seemed to slip in with little resistance. Ilya had to remind himself to breathe as he watched. Shane moved his finger in and out a few times before adding a second. Ilya adjusted himself in his seat.

“Fuck, Shane!” he whispered.

Shane’s eyes seemed to focus on him as he spoke. He fucked himself with two fingers while staring directly at Ilya. This boy had been a nuclear bomb about to go off, Ilya considered. He remembered the stressed ball of anxiety he’d met 2 weeks ago. Now it was his job to slowly diffuse it. He was a lucky man.

Ilya leaned forward, pulling his tank top over his head. He stood up and crawled on to the bed. “OK, I believe you. Let me help with the next part.” He picked up the butt plug and the lube bottle, grinning at Shane as he smothered the toy in the lube, letting it drip messily onto the sheets. Shane just grinned back, and pushed his fingers in deeper. His head rolled back as he moaned. Ilya had to take a slow breath to calm himself, because this boy was so. fucking. hot.

Ilya had thought a lot about this over the week. He hadn’t wanted to, had done everything he could to be thinking of anything else. But this image of Shane’s hole spread wide for him crept into his fantasies when he wasn’t looking.

He took hold of Shane’s wrist and guided his fingers out, admiring the now wider hole they left. “You did good, Shane.” he praised, kissing the inside of Shane’s thigh. He pressed the butt plug gently against his hole. Shane groaned. Ilya applied a little more pressure and it began to slip through the ring of muscle. He was slow, careful, watching both Shane’s face and Shane’s hole for any sign of distress. There was only a shudder in Shane’s breath before he whispered “More.”

Ilya kept pushing steadily until the plug was fully seated. Shane already looked wrecked.

“So beautiful my Kotenok, and so good for me. I am proud of you.” Ilya told him as he straddled him and leaned down to kiss him softly.

Shane moaned greedily into the kiss, hands slipping into Ilya’s hair and pulling him in harder. Ilya resisted and pulled away, placing soft kisses on Shane’s jaw and neck. He whispered “Patience, my boy.”, making Shane groan and nip at Ilya’s earlobe.

“Your ass is full, you need something for your mouth.” Ilya grabbed Shane’s hips and swiftly flipped them so Ilya was laying on his back with Shane on top of him. “Take your reward for excellent homework, Kotenok.”

Shane groaned with need as he recovered from the sudden change of position and the sensations in his ass. Shane felt like TV static was running through his veins, his dark nipples peaked stiff with arousal as he made his way down Rozanov’s torso, kissing his many moles lightly on his way. He unfastened Ilya’s jeans and yanked them over Ilya’s ass down to his thighs, along with his briefs. He hungrily set about devouring Ilya’s cock.

“Fuck, Shane!” Ilya was surprised at how aroused he was already. It was usually not so easy to bring him so close. He swallowed, hard. He tried to think of anything to calm himself as Shane ‘s head enthusiastically bobbed over him. He could feel the head of his cock hitting the back of Shane’s throat. Had this boy been doing more research? This was a display of skill he had not expected. If he wasn’t careful he would come, and not be in the condition to give Shane what he was hoping for later.

“Ok, Ok.” he gasped, easing Shane off his cock. “Enough reward, we need this for later.”

Shane looked dazed and Ilya decided to slow things down a little. “Come up here.” He beckoned with his finger. “Let me kiss you.” Shane crawled up Ilya’s body, breathless, his pupils blown wide and his lips swollen. Ilya thought he’d never looked more beautiful. He turned them so they lay on their side facing each other. Shane’s hand was moving down towards Ilya’s cock. Ilya gently took hold of his wrist and brought it up to his chest.

“If you want me to fuck you, you need to leave that alone for a while, my needy Kotenok. Let me take care of you.” He slid his fingers into Shane’s thick hair and pulled him to him, kissed him deeply. Tongues dueled amongst breathless moans from both men. Ilya caressed Shane’s body with his hands, felt the rise and fall of each muscle, the smoothness of his skin and the heat radiating from him.

“You are a beautiful boy, Shane.” Ilya murmured, “So strong and so soft, so brave.” His hands moved over him slowly and firmly. Shane purred against his neck and gripped Ilya’s back pulling him as close as possible. Ilya’s hand moved to take hold of Shane’s cock and stroked it firmly. Shane gasped and moaned and pressed his head deeper into Ilya’s neck.

Ilya continued stroking. “I want you to know how it feels to come when your ass is full. Shane. I want you to be nice and relaxed when my cock takes the place of that toy.”

Shane’s eyes were closed and he gasped “Oh fuck, yes. I need….I need you.”

Ilya cupped Shane’s balls and gently squeezed them. He kissed and sucked under Shane’s ear as he whispered “You will have me Shane, but you will be patient.” He playfully nipped at Shane’s earlobe. Shane’s groan sent a shudder through Ilya’s body that he had to take a moment to recover from. This man would be the end of him.

He kissed Shane’s body, stopping to suck and nip at one of his nipples on his way down. Shane writhed beneath him, his fingers kneading into Ilya’s curls. Ilya licked the tip of Shane’s leaking cock. Shane’s hips lifted from the bed like he had been pulled by an invisible power. Ilya teased a little longer, continuing his kisses until he took one of Shane’s balls in his mouth, sucking gently and playing with his tongue. The resulting moan from Shane was the most delicious sound Ilya had ever heard.

He released the ball and nuzzled against Shane’s thighs, “Did you know you could make sound like that, Shane Hollander? Did you know that you could cry out like that? When your ass is full and you’re so fucking turned on that the slightest touch burns you?”

Shane’s whole body shuddered. “Please.” he begged “Please. I..I need… I need … Please!”

“Such a good boy.” Ilya praised and placed a long lick up the length of Shane’s twitching cock before taking it into his mouth.

There was the briefest moment of relief from Shane before a whole new symphony of gasps and moans began. Ilya took him deep. He swirled his tongue around Shane’s cock, listening to his responses. He heard what made Shane almost lose control and filed that away for the future. He sucked hard and allowed his saliva to add to the leaking pre-cum to lubricate each motion. He could feel Shane would not last long like this. Reaching behind Shane, he pressed on the butt plug firmly, making sure it stayed fully seated.

Shane’s orgasm was spectacular. His body rolled in waves as each pulse passed through his cock into Ilya’s mouth. Ilya tried to hold his hip with his other hand to help maintain the contact. He licked and sucked until he was sure nothing more was coming. Shane’s movements had stopped and he lay prone and breathless beneath him. Ilya released his cock and crawled back up Shane’s body. Shane’s eyes were closed, his lips parted as he panted for air. Ilya smiled at the way his dark freckles had deepened in color through his flushed skin. Ilya kissed those freckles and brushed Shane’s damp hair from his forehead.

“It was good, yes?” he asked softly, “To come with something inside you.”

Shane could only respond with a wordless hum and Ilya grinned. He patted Shane’s cheek lightly. “Come back to me Shane, I’m not done with you.”

Shane’s eyes fluttered open and he grinned up at Ilya. “I’m here.” he murmured weakly.

Ilya smiled warmly at him. “Yes you are now, but you almost floated to moon.”

Shane let out a long, satisfied breath. Ilya could see he was relaxed and that was exactly what he wanted. He kissed him deeply but gently before crawling down the bed again.

“Lift up your knees.” he commanded and Shane complied with ease. Ilya caressed Shane’s thighs before reaching between his legs with one hand, slowly beginning to remove the butt plug. There was a soft groan from Shane. Ilya looked up to note slight worry on his face and winked at him.

“I will be careful, but this needs to come out. Trust. Relax.” He slowly pulled the plug as he continued to caress Shane’s thigh with his free hand. He could feel Shane’s body relaxing again and watched Shane’s eyes close and his head sink into the pillow. “Good. Very good, almost there.” he muttered before the bulb at the end of the plug popped free from the ring of muscle and Shane groaned. Ilya put the toy to the side and returned between Shane’s legs. He was already quite well prepared, but he wanted to make sure he was totally ready, so he leaned in and licked across the open hole.

“Oh!” Shane gasped, making Ilya grin wide and do it again.

“Is nice?” he asked, knowing full well it would be.

“Yes. Nice. Fuck.” Shane gasped as Ilya delved his tongue inside the now open hole.

Ilya lifted his eyes and could see Shane already getting hard again. His needy Kotenok didn’t disappoint. He grabbed Shane’s calves so he could push his knees back up to Shane’s chest to get better access. Shane helped hold his knees in position and Ilya spent the next 5 minutes eating him out like it was his last meal, with Shane muttering incoherently between gasps and moans.

When Ilya was satisfied that Shane was ready, he slowed before pulling away, placing kisses on the inside of each thigh. He sat back on his heels and stroked his own hard cock as he admired his handywork.

“I need condom.” he said, grimacing as he realized he hadn’t brought any from his bag.

“Drawer.” Shane mumbled. His head lolled to the side seeming to indicate the bedside table.

Ilya grinned. Of course Shane had prepared for this. He reached over to open the drawer and pulled out a long strip of condoms. “WOW! You think this will be enough?” he teased and Shane blushed.

Ilya ripped one condom from the strip, opened the pack and expertly put it on. He pushed Shane’s knees up again towards his chest and seated himself in position, before looking to Shane whose eyes were wide and wet as he watched.

“You still want?” Ilya asked softly, caressing Shane’s inner thigh.

Shane nodded once and smiled. “I still want.”

Ilya gave him a reassuring smile and reached for the lube bottle. He squeezed some onto his fingers, then spread it around and inside Shane’s hole. Shane was gasping and breathing heavily. Ilya could sense his nervousness about what was to come. He kept the pace slow and after he had lubed up Shane and himself he checked in again.

“Is still ok?”

Shane nodded “Yes, please, I want you. I dre…. I want this.”

Ilya did not miss what was almost said. His heart flipped. He placed the head of his cock at Shane’s hole, rubbing it there for a moment before pushing in just a little.

Shane groaned, his head sinking back into the pillow.

“Is ok?” Ilya checked one more time and Shane just nodded silently, biting his lower lip.

Ilya pushed in a little further, the head of his cock now fully inside Shane, and fuck he was still so tight. Ilya paused to breathe and stop himself from coming just from this.

“Mm…More!” Shane begged. Ilya shuddered before pushing in further, making Shane cry out loudly. Ilya stopped and held himself in place, frightened of hurting Shane.

“OK?” he asked again and this time Shane’s response was more definitive.

“Fuck yes.Fuck me,please… Please.”

Ilya loved how sweetly his Kotenok begged him and pushed in further until he was fully inside him, balls resting against Shane’s ass. Shane’s eyes opened and for a moment they locked with Ilya’s. Ilya’s heart pounded at the expression on his face. So much trust and need and… something else he didn’t dare name.

He forced himself to close his own eyes. He slowly moved his hips to pull out a little, then slowly started to move faster and deeper. He leaned forward and braced himself on his hands around Shane’s head. Shane’s legs wrapped around his body, his heels kicking against his ass. He felt like Shane was literally all around him. It was incredible and overwhelming and… too much.

He paused, pulling out of Shane, his heart clenching at Shane’s whimper.

“On your knees.” he told him as he sat back on his heels and waited for Shane to change his position. He couldn’t look at his face anymore, he was feeling too much. He had to stay professional.

Shane looking dazed, but still compliant silently crawled onto his knees. Ilya took hold of Shane’s hips, positioning him. He pushed into him again. Shane’s head dropped down to the pillow immediately. “Oh holy fuck!”

Ilya leaned down and kissed his back. “OK?” he checked. Shane grunted something incoherent, but then pushed back onto Ilya which made the message clear.

He increased his pace. Faster now, one hand held Shane’s hips steady as he pounded into him. Ilya was covered in sweat and breathless but relentless. He kept going. Shane was gripping onto his pillow for dear life, grunting and moaning. Then Ilya felt it, the rhythmic pulsing around him as Shane clenched helplessly around Ilya’s thick cock.

“Shane, are you…?” The sounds from Shane confirmed he was indeed coming, without his dick being touched. Fuck!

“Oh God, Shane!” Ilya cried, pumping deep into Shane, holding him there as he came almost immediately. This had to be one of the hottest things that ever happened to him.

Shane practically melted into the pillow and Ilya melted over him. He kissed him on his shoulders and neck while trying to maintain some semblance of control over himself. He felt like he was flying.

Ilya slowly pulled out and removed the condom, tying it and tossing it where he’d left the butt plug. He flopped down on the bed and pulled Shane to him. Shane was boneless, trembling in aftershocks, and practically purring. Ilya couldn’t help but think he was adorable. His Kotenok. It was the perfect name. He stroked Shane’s hair and held him gently for a while. Ilya’s mind was so torn; he knew he shouldn’t be feeling what he did, and he also knew he didn’t want to stop. This man drew him in somehow. He felt so, so protective of him. What if it hadn’t been him? What if in desperation Shane had given himself to some jerk who wouldn’t take his time, who wouldn’t be gentle and hold him? He couldn’t bear that thought. He kissed the top of Shane’s head. He needed to clear his head a little, but knew he couldn’t leave just yet.

“I will shower now, OK?” he whispered, giving Shane a squeeze. Releasing him made Shane moan in protest. Ilya grinned. “I will be back, I promise. Will be clean, not sweaty mess.”

Shane muttered something that sounded like “OK.” and hugged his pillow. He was still completely gone and Ilya stopped to look at him a moment before shaking his head and heading into Shane’s en-suite.

The shower should have been a good idea, Ilya thought as he washed himself. But he was now covering himself in the scent of Shane Hollander and it was not clearing his head. He scrubbed at his scalp with his fingers. Why was he like this? Why was he feeling all these things? He knew where this would end. He knew he would be betrayed, or abandoned or even just ghosted. That’s what people he let himself care about did to him.

He dried himself off muttering a mantra to himself. “Just a client. Just a client. Just a client.” He shook off the stress and stepped back into the bedroom, determined to keep up his professional mask. Shane was sitting up in the bed now and Ilya flopped next to him. “You have killed me, Shane Hollander. I am dead”. Shane curled an arm around him grinning.

“That was so hot!” Shane had a wide smile.

“Worth the risk?”

Shane turned to Ilya, his hand moving to caress Ilya’s face. Soft, wet eyes meeting Ilya’s. Ilya’s heart pounded as Shane leaned down, placing the most tender kiss on his lips, then on his forehead. Ilya forgot how to breathe.

“I should go.” he said. He knew he hadn’t completed his after care completely but he was so afraid of what his heart was doing right now.

Shane shook his head. “Please stay a little longer. I won’t let you fall asleep, I promise. Maybe we could watch a movie?”

“Shane.” Ilya warned, the softness in Shane’s expression breaking him.

“Please. I don’t want to be alone yet. Please stay. I’ll pay, you know I …”

Ilya held up his hand and sighed “Shane! I know you are good for the money.”

Shane looked so deflated. Ilya convinced himself he should stay, aftercare was important.

“OK, I stay for movie. In living room. Not in bed so I don’t sleep.”

Shane’s face lit up. “Really? Thank you!”

Ilya couldn’t help but smile seeing Shane’s elation. He could imagine Sveta rolling her eyes at him being pulled in by another cute Kotenok. At least he was pretty sure this one didn’t have fleas!

They moved to the living room, Shane wearing soft joggers and Ilya his jeans. Ilya browsed Shane’s DVD collection. “You like a lot of French movies.” he commented looking back at Shane, who sat on the couch hugging a cushion.

Shane rolled his eyes. “I speak French, and they’re good movies. There are English ones there as well.”

Ilya nodded and considered that he’s never bought any Russian language movies. “So what do you want? Action? We have Die Hard and Rambo… You like sweaty muscle men, yes?”

“Fuck you!” Shane laughed. “Maybe an action comedy? Charlie’s Angels?”

Ilya found the DVD, nodded approvingly and placed it into the DVD player. He walked back to Shane and sat next to him, leaned back and pulled Shane with him.

Shane leaned into his chest and placed his hand over the cross pendant Ilya still wore. “You always wear this?” he asked, carefully playing with it with his fingers.

“Always.” Ilya answered. He took a deep breath, he really didn’t want to go there tonight.

“Are you… religious?” Shane asked.

Ilya sighed. “No. It is… to remember my mother.”

He felt Shane tense a little. “I’m sorry.”

Ilya stroked Shane’s hair and pulled him closer. “It’s OK, I was young.” He took a deep shaky breath. “Now watch the movie.” He pulled the blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around Shane’s back to keep him warm.

Shane nuzzled into him. Ilya closed his eyes for a moment. It would be nice one day, to have someone like this. Someone to talk to, to tell about his Mama. Shane could not be that someone. Shane was a client. Shane was a famous Hockey Star and could not be anyone’s boyfriend.

A tragedy for Shane, and a tragedy for him.

Chapter End Notes

Chapter 14

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

That was the first of a series of visits that started with sex and ended with a movie. Ilya visited on Saturdays when Shane was home. Some weeks when he’d been traveling for a while and returned mid-week Shane would request a visit on another day. He felt like he would burst if he didn’t see Rozanov as soon as possible when he’d been away for more than a week. He wanted to talk with him, learn from him, hear his voice say the stupid pet name for him. He missed his touch so much. He wondered if this was just infatuation because he was the only man who could see the real him. The only man who could fulfill the desires he had denied throughout his whole adolescence. Sometimes he found himself feeling so happy when Rozanov laughed or concerned when he was quiet and distant. He knew this was about the man Rozanov was, not just because Rozanov was a man.

He’d noticed when Rozanov went quieter in recent weeks. One night, they’d settled on “Lethal Weapon” for the movie, Rozanov said he’d never seen it and Shane thought he’d love it. In the scene where Riggs loads his pistol and puts it in his mouth, he felt Rozanov tense, then suddenly stood up, saying he needed the bathroom. When he returned Shane saw his eyes looked red and asked if he was OK. Rozanov had brushed it off, but Shane could feel the sadness radiating from him for the rest of the film. He had also noticed Rozanov never shared anything about his life. The only thing Shane knew was that his Mother was dead, that he had a foster sister and that he had asylum here in Canada. Any attempt to get more information from him was diverted or just bluntly refused.

It occurred to Shane that if he started sharing more of his own life, that he might be able to get Rozanov to open up. He knew he shouldn’t care so much; he still paid for his visits. Rozanov was effectively a service provider and didn’t owe Shane a thing about his private life. However, Shane’s heart felt differently and he sensed that there was so much more to this man who filled his thoughts so often. He wanted to know all of it.

On the ice Shane was better than he’d ever been. His coach was happy with him. His teammates were asking why he seemed ‘different’. A few were asking if he was getting laid and Shane would just smile shyly and say “A gentleman never tells.” That just urged them on. He had to admit a part of him was enjoying it.

One Saturday night, after Montreal had been kicked out of the Playoffs by Toronto, they lay together, with Shane feeling particularly floaty. Earlier, Ilya had wrapped Shane’s hands above his head while he sucked his cock and used a prostate massager. It had been as close as Shane had ever come to saying stop. He hadn’t thought he could take another 30 seconds when Ilya finally allowed him to come. Ilya had decided something light would be best so they watched “Labyrinth”. Ilya lay back on the couch with Shane between his legs resting back on his chest. Ilya gently caressed Shane’s hair and traced his fingertips over his chest. Shane’s fingers stroked Ilya’s thighs.

Watching the baby in the film Shane commented “Hayden… you know Pike? He has twins, they’re cute. I went to visit with them on Tuesday, little terrors.”

Ilya hummed an acknowledgement but didn’t say anything. Shane continued. “I guess I would say he’s my best friend.”

“Pike?” Ilya responded dryly. “You can’t be friends with a better player?”

Shane grinned “Hey, he’s one of our best.”

Ilya shook his head “This is why you are not in the playoffs, if you believe this.”

Shane sighed, still smiling. “Anyway, he’s been really welcoming since I joined. He and his wife Jackie invite me for dinner sometimes. She’s a good cook.”

“I am glad you have friend Shane. Does he know?” Ilya asked quietly.

Shane shook his head. “God no. I mean… He was with us that night at the club but… No he doesn’t know anything that happened after that.”

“Does he know you’re gay?” Ilya pressed again.

Shane took in a deep breath. “No. I … I haven’t told anyone.”

Shane felt Ilya lean down to place a kiss into his hair. “It is hard for you to keep this secret.
It is not fair.” It wasn’t a question, and Shane just sighed.

“Yeah, you’re right. Do you have anyone who… Who knows what you do?” He asked
cautiously, hoping he might sneak into a crack in Ilya’s Armour.

Ilya’s arms wrapped over Shane’s chest. He pulled him closer, making Shane’s eyes close as he felt cared for and cherished. They both took in long deep breaths.

“Sveta, my foster sister. I told you about her. She knows everything about me. She is best friend, family.”

Shane smiled softly. “She sounds great.”

“She is the best” Ilya chuckled “Although can be like Um - Mother Goose?”

“Mother Hen.” Shane corrected gently. “Mother Goose is from nursery rhymes.”

Ilya laughed again. “Yes, Mother Hen, she worries too much, but I love her. We take care of each other.”

“I’m glad you have that. I know you can’t have had an easy time.” Shane was resting his hands over Ilya’s now, curling into the embrace. He wanted Rozanov to trust him with something.

On the screen David Bowie sang and danced, surrounded by goblins. Ilya laughed. “This movie is ridiculous, is for children, yes? Yet they put him in pants that show everything!”

Shane silently chewed his lip. There Rozanov went again, distracting, deflecting. They watched silently for a while longer.

When Sarah’s character was being taunted by the fire goblins Ilya started to speak. “It is illegal in Russia to be caught with another man. Very unsafe for me, so a friend got me out. I came to Canada when I was fourteen.”

“You knew when you were fourteen?” Shane asked.

Ilya nodded and placed another kiss in Shane’s hair. “Yes, before that. I kissed a boy when I was twelve. I was in a lot of trouble.” Ilya’s tone was flat and emotionless, but Shane could feel his body tensing beneath him.

“Were your family not able to help?” Shane couldn’t imagine not having parents who weren’t all in on doing anything to make their child happy.

He felt the deep sigh from Ilya. “No, my father is police. My mother dead. I was alone. For a long time.” Shane felt the hitch in Ilya’s breath and looked up to see a tear rolling down his cheek. He turned and lifted his head. Ilya turned away and Shane put his hand on his cheek to guide him back to face him.

“Hey.” He said softly.

Ilya was crying, silver streaks across both cheeks, avoiding eye contact with Shane. “I’m sorry.” Ilya tearfully mumbled. Shane wrapped both arms around his neck pulling Ilya’s head to his chest and held him there. He placed soft kisses in Ilya’s hair and stroked his curls as he rocked them both gently.

When the tears seemed to subside Shane carefully pulled back to look at Ilya, who looked embarrassed and so sad it made Shane’s heart ache. “Thank you for telling me that.” Shane said, making sure to catch Ilya’s eyes and give him a soft smile.

Ilya squeezed his eyes shut. Shane could see him set his jaw before Ilya’s hands guided Shane back to resting on his chest. “It is unprofessional for me to tell you these things. I’m sorry. "

Shane grumbled. “You are a human being not a robot. You’re allowed to feel.”

Ilya chuckled softly. “Yes Kotenok I am, but still it is unprofessional. It’s this stupid movie, she seems so alone.”

Shane smiles softly. “But by the end she is happy because she finds the people who care for her.”

“Life is not a fairy tale Kotenok.” Ilya caressed Shane’s hair again. “Thank you for hug. You are kind man. Now, quiet, finish this film then I will go.”

*******

Ilya didn’t open up again. Their sessions continued until the summer break. Shane had planned to go to Ottawa for at least a month, possibly two. He would be staying with his parents, working with an architect to design a cottage on the land he’d purchased there on a private lake. When Shane had mentioned the long break to Ilya he was disappointed at how nonchalant the Russian had been.

“It will be good for you to have holiday away, you work hard.” Ilya had told him flatly as he tied his shoelaces.

“Will you keep your Saturdays open for when I get back?” Shane asked glumly.

“Sure. I will for you Shane. I am not going anywhere.” Ilya smiled. “You will be very excited after 2 months, I think. You are feisty after just 2 weeks.” He chuckled softly.

“Fuck off!” Shane blushed then sighed. “It will be a long time. Can I - can I maybe call you sometimes?”

Ilya patted Shane’s cheek gently and leaned in to kiss him softly. “Message me and we will arrange call times ok?” He opened the apartment door and stepped through before turning. “Have a good summer, Shane.” He winked and left.

Shane closed the door only after Rozanov was out of sight and leaned back against it. How could Rozanov be so unbothered? Maybe Shane had misread things, maybe he was letting himself feel more than he should. Maybe he should go to Ottawa and forget about him.

*****
Ilya ground his teeth, leaning his head against the cool glass of the window of his Uber ride home. Up to two months without seeing his Kotenok. It shouldn’t bother him this much but it did. He looked forward to his Saturdays now, they were a contrast to his other work. Saturdays were soft and fun. He really felt like he was making a difference with Shane.

Still, it was his job. Even if each week it became harder to accept payments from Shane, because he was starting to feel like he needed those nights as much as Shane did.

*****

Jane: Can I call?

It was Thursday, 10pm. Shane had dinner with his parents and they went out to one of their friend’s birthday party, leaving Shane alone. He had been thinking about Rozanov all the time. He had fewer distractions here, which was the whole point of the time away, but it meant his mind wandered too often into dangerous territory. He stared at his phone, no answer. Rozanov was busy with other clients, of course. He wondered what they were doing. Did they care about him like he did?

On Friday at 3am a reply finally came. It woke Shane from a restless sleep.

Lily: Too late now, can call Saturday.

Oh. Well he couldn’t just expect Rozanov to drop everything to speak to him.

When Saturday evening came, Shane headed to his room earlier than normal, saying he was feeling tired. He closed the door and locked it before settling on his bed and connecting his headphones to his phone.

Jane: OK to call now?

Lily: I will call in 10 minutes.

Shane sighed, relieved. He would at least hear Ilya’s voice tonight. He closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the headboard. Was it wrong to feel so excited about this? About a phone call with the guy you pay to have sex with you? His mind knew it made no sense to have grown so attached; it was sex, just sex, lots of people had sex without forming an emotional bond. Why couldn’t he though? Was it him? Was it Rozanov? He could feel his heart rate increase just knowing Rozanov would be calling. Memories of his touch, of the feel of his lips on his skin, of how complete Shane felt when Rozanov was inside him, wrapped around him.

Unconsciously his hand had moved over to his twitching cock, fingers lightly stroking as it started to grow. The phone buzzed and Shane almost leapt out of bed, feeling like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. He chuckled to himself when he realized before answering the call.

“Hey.” he said softly, feeling awkward. Somehow “I was just rubbing myself thinking of you” didn’t feel appropriate.

Ilya’s voice was soft. “Hello Shane, how is your summer vacation?”

Shane tried to read the tone. He didn’t sound like Shane was used to. “Oh, um. Yeah well, you know, with my parents so, kinda nice, kinda hell. I’m getting my own place built out here, meeting with the Architect tomorrow. I got some land by a private lake.”

“Mr Real Estate.” Ilya mocked.

“Shut up!” Shane said in protest, as a blush crept up his face. “How are you?” It seemed a strangely familiar thing to ask your sex worker but he couldn’t think of anything else.

He heard sounds like Ilya might be shifting about, trying to get comfortable wherever he was.

“I am OK. I forgot what it was like to have Saturday night free. I have been abandoned by my Kotenok and left to entertain myself.” He was clearly exaggerating, but still Shane felt a pang of guilt.

“I would have thought you might appreciate more free time,” he offered.

Rozanov groaned loudly. “It is so boring! Tell me, Kotenok, what do you do with your free time in Ottawa? Do your parents mind you using their home to test more sex toys?”

“I am not testing sex toys.” Shane grinned. Why did he not-so-secretly love being teased by this man?

“Oh so you are using your hand? Do they have lots of cream for the blisters?” Ilya was so dry. It made Shane’s stomach tingle.

“Oh fuck off!” he retorted, unable to think of anything more witty, especially as he had literally just been about to use his hand.

“OK I will go, this was short call. Goodnight, Shane.”

“No wait! I didn’t mean… Don’t go!” Shane panicked, his pulse quickening.

“I’m here Shane. I would not leave you like that.” Rozanov’s voice was soft and low, steady and reassuring.

“I’m kinda wishing I was back home, it’s easier to talk face to face.” Shane admitted.

“This can be fixed. Hang up, I will facetime.”

“What?” Shane took a few seconds to process, but Rozanov had already ended the call. He looked like shit. He hadn’t styled his hair. He was still wearing his glasses from looking at architect plans earlier. The screen lit up again with a facetime request, he couldn’t exactly decline it. He answered, trying to brush back his hair with his fingers.

Rozanov appeared on his screen. Shane could only see his shoulders but it was clear he was shirtless, his skin seemed to glow golden in the soft lighting of the room. He smiled softly at Shane, his eyes sparkling.

“You wear glasses.” he said softly, an element of surprise in his tone.

“Only for reading.” Shane went to take them off.

“No, put them back, please.” Ilya asked. Shane blushed as he put them back on.

“Where are you?” Shane asked. He could see a window covered by a curtain and a desk behind Rozanov, who appeared to be sitting on the edge of a bed.

“Home.” Rozanov answered. “This is my room.” Shane watched as a realization seemed to hit Rozanov at this moment. “I shouldn’t be showing you this.” he muttered, shaking his head at himself, then sighing before looking at Shane. “Is this your childhood room?” he asked, deflecting.

Shane looked around the room, the trophies on shelves, the posters on the walls, the hockey books and memorabilia everywhere. “Yeah, we moved here when I was ten. I only left at the start of training camp last year.”

Rozanov grinned. “So you have jerked off here many times before, eh? It won’t be strange.”

Shane laughed. “No, it won’t. You’re obsessed with me jerking off tonight.”

“Is that not why I’m here? To give inspiration?” Ilya asked with a devilish grin and a sexy wink.

“Well. I just…” What was Shane going to say? That he missed him? That he was dreaming of his hands on him when he called? That he wanted to feel his breath on his skin, but if he couldn’t have that he just wanted to hear his voice and know, for just a few minutes, that Rozanov was thinking of him too? “…Yeah, I guess you are.” He sighed, defeated.

Rozanov licked his lips. “Take off your clothes.”

“On fucking camera?” Shane asked and Rozanov raised a brow. “Will be $200 per hour on phone with or without camera. So do you want to see or no?”

“Fuck!” Shane groaned before putting the phone down and taking off his glasses so he could lift his t-shirt over his head. He pushed off his pants and briefs and picked up his phone as he sat back again.

“Glasses back on.” Rozanov tapped his temple and grinned. Shane obeyed. The Russian continued. “Do you have tripod or something to rest your phone against? I want to see all of you.”

**********

A new Saturday routine began this way, with Shane jerking off in front of the camera for Rozanov, who also put on a show for Shane. Every week, despite locking his door, Shane feared his Mom would burst in and interrupt, but the fear seemed to make things even hotter.

Five weeks later, when Shane’s architect sent the drawings of the final design for his lakeside cottage, he was thrilled. It was so open to the nature surrounding it, yet so isolated from everywhere else. He could imagine feeling so relaxed there. He took photos of the drawings and sent them to Rozanov, feeling the need to share them with him.

Jane: This will be my cottage, will be finished by next summer. Isn’t it beautiful?

When there was no instant response he felt disappointed, he’d wanted to share his excitement with Rozanov. He’d wanted to know what Rozanov thought. For some reason, that felt really important.

Rozanov would be busy with a client, making them happy, because they paid. Like Shane did. It wasn’t the same for him though, was it?

Was he just another client?

Did he stay and watch movies with them?

Did he do video calls with them?

Did he tell them about his mother?

Rozanov did those things with Shane.

He also took his money and would leave in the middle of the night. Because it was Rozanov’s job. Shane was just his client. Wasn’t he?

Fuck.

**********

The next day Shane did not receive a reply either. He had checked his phone obsessively since the previous evening, it was now more than 24 hours since he sent the message.

Jane: Is everything ok? I know you’re busy with other clients, but I just would appreciate an acknowledgment at least.

Still no response. The next day was Saturday. Shane was growing increasingly agitated.

Jane: Sorry if I’m being inappropriate, I just thought you might be interested. Still on for tonight?

Saturday night came and went with no reply and no call. Shane tried to call Rozanov but it was like the phone was off. Or maybe he was blocked? Shane didn’t understand what he could have done to Rozanov to cause this. The last call had ended with them laughing as Shane’s phone had tipped over and they were at funny angles. Everything seemed normal, or whatever normal looked like for this kind of arrangement.

He paced around his parent’s house, phone permanently in his hand. When they showed concern he brushed it off, but it was becoming clear he couldn’t hide his distress any longer. He couldn’t tell them either, so he did the next best thing: he packed his bag and headed back to Montreal.

On the drive over he wondered. Had Rozanov picked up a new rich client? Maybe someone who paid him to stay all the time. Maybe someone he didn’t have to teach everything to, someone he didn’t have to be so careful with. Someone he liked more than Shane.

The thought snuck into his mind and wouldn’t leave. As soon as he got into his apartment he went online and found a number for “Secrets”. He called and was told they could take messages, but not give information about the workers there. He left a message to ask Rozanov to call Kotenok. He didn’t know what else to do other than to go there. He had no clue where Rozanov lived. He knew he had to speak to him, even if it was only to hear him say he didn’t want to see him anymore. He needed to hear it with his own ears, he didn’t trust his mind to tell him the truth.

By now it had been a week since he sent the photos of the cottage. Nearly two weeks since he’d last spoken to Rozanov. He put on a baseball cap and shades. He arrived at the club trying his best not to look like Shane Hollander.

He walked in, paid the entrance fee, walked quickly to the bar and sat down. He could see the whole club from here. The bartender looked at him a little oddly, and Shane realized he must look weird with his shades on in this dark bar. Shane ordered Vodka, he needed something to steady his nerves. When the bartender put his drink in front of him he asked “Is Rozanov working tonight?” The man shook his head, but didn’t offer any more information. Shane sipped at the Vodka and kept looking around.

He could see latex clad men and women on their knees besides other leather and latex clad people laughing and drinking together. Most wore collars, some with chains that their Master or Mistress held. There was no show on at the moment, but Shane noticed the movement of some couples into and out of the back rooms. Business as usual as far as he knew for this place, and no sign of Rozanov. He shot back the rest of his drink and asked for another, when someone came through the entrance. It was him.

He seemed in a hurry and moved quickly towards the bar. When he caught sight of Shane his eyes grew wide., “What the fuck are you doing here Kotenok?” He growled angrily.

Shane was stunned at this anger. How dare he? How dare he ghost him, for no reason, then have the cheek to be angry at him?

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’ve been ignoring me for nearly 2 weeks!” he bit back.

Rozanov’s jaw was tight. Shane thought he looked so tired, and pale. He shouted to the barman “Tell Jared I’m here, I’ll find him soon.” He turned to Shane, roughly grabbing his arm. “Come with me.” he dragged him through the door to the back, down the blue corridor into room 8, the meeting room. Once the door closed behind him Rozanov locked it and practically shoved Shane down to sit on one of the chairs.

“Someone will recognize you here.” he said “We agreed you would never…”

“Who is it?” Shane asked desperately. “What are they paying? I’ll double it.”

Rozanov looked puzzled. “What are you talking about Shane? You already pay enough.”

“You’re ignoring me, someone must be paying you more and you didn’t want to tell me so you thought it would be kinder, but it’s not Rozanov, I’ve been dying.” Shane’s fears poured out quickly.

“I’ve not been ignoring you. I have something I have had to deal with, it is personal. I have not had access to my phone. I am sorry about missing Saturday, it could not be helped.”

“I’ve been losing my mind, wondering if you were OK, if I did something wrong. I thought we were good. I thought you liked me. I thought I was …”

“What Shane? You thought you were what? You are my client. Not my boyfriend. I do not have to tell you where I am every minute of every day. Not everything is about you, Hollander!” Rozanov spat out the words. Shane felt like he’d been punched in the stomach.

Shane was still breathing heavily, tears threatening to breach the dam of his eyelids at any moment. He stood slowly, keeping his eyes on Rozanov, who moved to the side to let Shane pass when he stepped towards the door. Shane unlocked the door and opened it slowly, turning back to Rozanov.

“I’m glad you’re alive. Thank you, for everything.”

Shane stepped into the corridor, closing the door behind him. He saw the fire exit that Rozanov had brought him in through that first time, turned and went through it. Tears spilled down his cheeks. Once he was out on the street, he ran. Not even aware of where he was going, until he found his way home.

Chapter End Notes

Chapter 15

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“Where have you been?” Jared asked calmly, “Are you coming back?”

Ilya closed his eyes and tried his best to breathe and regulate himself. The last thing he needed right now was to destroy this relationship, lose this job.

“I will be back soon I hope. There has been something very important, personal I’ve needed to deal with.”

Jared nodded slowly, his eyes surveying Ilya. Ilya knew this man familiar with him well enough to know there was more to this than met the eye. “Anything I can do?” he asked steadily, “If you need some… support. I might know a few guys who might know a few guys.”

Ilya half grinned. He knew Jared had some shady friends and if he was honest with himself he couldn’t solve this alone. “Actually, yes, you might be able to help.” He pulled out a chair, sat on the opposite side of Jared’s desk and told him everything.

***************

The next morning Ilya finally got a replacement phone. His previous one had been smashed more than a week ago and he just hadn’t had the time to think about replacing it. With what was on his mind it just hadn’t occurred to him that anyone might worry about him. It certainly didn’t occur to him that his Kotenok would grow so jealous and frightened. Nobody ever cared enough to feel that way before. Except Sveta, and she was barely woken from an induced coma. And she was scared.

It had been over a week since he got the call at the club. He grabbed the first cab he could to get to the hospital. Sveta was in the ER. They wouldn’t let him see her at first, saying they were still stabilizing her. Ilya thought he would go insane as he paced the corridor outside the room, at one point throwing his phone in a fit of frustration, smashing it to pieces. He couldn’t lose her, he’d already lost too much. He’d let himself care for her. Love her, because he knew she understood his pain. He couldn’t imagine not having her in his life. At that point he had had no idea what exactly had happened yet, just that she had been attacked in a bar.

After over an hour of pacing and imagining the worst a doctor came to see him. Told him she had severe head injuries and they’d had to sedate her to try to minimize brain swelling. She would be kept in an induced coma until they felt it was safe enough to wake her. He was allowed in to see her. He hesitated before walking through the door, his breath shaking, afraid of what he might see. Memories of opening that bathroom door flooded his mind.

Finally Ilya took a deep breath and stepped in. The first thing he noticed was her beautiful skin covered in bruises and cuts. Her face swollen and bruised with deep cuts above her eye and on her cheek, the clean stitches stood out against her discolored skin. She was sedated and intubated, wires and tubes sprouting unnaturally from her delicate body. A monitor beeped steadily. He walked up to the bed, watching as her chest rose and fell. He gently wrapped his fingers around her lifeless hand and leaned over her, brushing back her hair from her face with his free hand.

“I’m here, Sveta. Ilyusha is here. You are safe.” he whispered as tears burned his eyes and rolled down his face. “You are strong my sister. You will live. You must live. You must.”

Ilya was still standing by the bed holding her hand when the door to the room opened a few minutes later, and a police officer entered. He was a tall man, probably only a few years older than Ilya. He seemed uncomfortable. “I’m sorry. I’m Constable Ryan…” When Ilya was a child he thought Constables were the British Policemen in the silly tall hats, it was only when coming to Canada he learned they were here as well. “… I was first on the scene. Are you family?”

Ilya nodded without looking away from Sveta. “Yes, her brother.” He wasn’t about to tell him the specifics. He might tell him to leave if he knew he wasn’t blood related.

Constable Ryan nodded. “Ah yes, Ilya. I was the one who called you. Your number was open on her phone. I stayed at the scene, taking statements. How is she?”

His number was open on her phone, she had been trying to contact him. Ilya’s heart ached. He looked up slowly to the policeman who now stood on the other side of the bed from Ilya. “You see how she is. Who did this? What happened?”

The Constable shifted awkwardly and pulled out his notebook. His eyes didn’t meet Ilya’s. Ilya thought he was very new to the role and not yet comfortable delivering bad news.

“So, what we know is: She left her place of work at the dealership at 6pm and went to a bar with some colleagues. They said she told them she was going to the bathroom. When she didn’t return after a while, one of them went looking for her and found her like this, in a cubicle in the bathroom.” The Constable kept his eyes on his notebook.

Ilya couldn’t quite take this in. Who could hurt beautiful Sveta? He looked back at her and stroked her hair again.

The Constable continued. “We’re collecting surveillance footage and our detectives are putting together an investigation. They just asked me to check in, see if she’d be able to tell us anything.”

Ilya sighed heavily. “They said she has brain swelling. They sedated her to try to help. They call it induced coma. She will tell you nothing tonight.” His legs gave from under him, he dropped to his knees still holding her hand in both of his. He rested his head against it on the bed. “Sveta, please, stay strong. I need you.” Memories of his Mama were filling his mind and his heart felt like it would explode with grief.

It was 10 whole days before Sveta’s eyes finally opened. Ilya had barely left her, only running home once to grab fresh clothes and throw more in a bag so he wouldn’t have to leave again. He kept her hand in his, would talk quietly and sing silly Russian songs from his childhood. He would often hold on to the cross around his neck and beg his Mama to do anything she could to keep Sveta strong and with him. Some of the colleagues from her work had visited, who had told Ilya she had been behaving oddly that afternoon after dealing with a client.

Occasionally, a detective would visit, but there was little progress. The surveillance footage showed her entering the bathroom, and 2 men wearing balaclavas following her in. The men came back out a few minutes later, leaving through the fire exit. The police believed she was targeted but they didn’t know why.

Finally, after 10 days, the doctors felt it was safe to reduce the sedation. When her eyes flickered, just briefly at first, Ilya’s heart leapt with joy.

“I am here, Sveta” he told her over and over “You are safe, Ilyusha is here.”

The next day she was able to say more than a few words. “It was Volkov” she had told him. “He came to buy a car.” Ilya suddenly understood everything. He knew he needed to do something, because she wouldn’t be safe again until he did. The police couldn’t handle this.

So he told the only other person he could trust. He told Jared about Sveta’s history in Russia. That she was the illegitimate daughter of a Russian mob leader. Her mother had been one of many women he trafficked around the world. Sveta had been allowed to stay with her mother, who remained part of a harem he kept at his compound, to be used by him and whoever he felt like sharing them with. Volkov was one of the senior figures in this particular gang. He had taken a shine to Sveta and had abused her since she was 9 years old. Sveta had managed to escape the compound, with her mother’s help, during a big party. Things had not gone to plan and she had to leave her mother behind. She had lived on the streets for a couple of years before being rescued by Rainbow Railroad. She had told Ilya a couple of years ago that she had read that the mob leader had been arrested for trafficking, but that there were still senior figures in the gang who had evaded the law, including Volkov.

So Volkov must have been hiding here in Montreal. He had come to the dealership, Ilya surmised, and recognized her, and realized she could identify him. He had her followed, beaten and left for dead.

Jared told him he could find Volkov and would “solve the problem”. He had gotten the footage from the dealership, a route the detectives didn’t seem to have taken. This way he was able to get a picture of Volkov. He was soon identified through Jared’s contacts. Volkov may have escaped Russia, but he hadn’t stayed away from the seedier side of society.

After Ilya had shared everything he had returned to his vigil at Sveta’s bedside. 4 days later Jared came to the hospital. He spoke to Ilya outside of Sveta’s room.

“It’s done. She won’t have any more problems.” He showed Ilya a photograph of Volkov’s dead body. “He won’t be found, we’ve made sure. It’s over.” Jared reassured him as Ilya looked at the lifeless form in the photograph. That had not been a good man, he reminded himself, and this had been necessary to keep Sveta safe. He hated that he had to be a part of it nevertheless.

Ilya thanked Jared who shook his hand and hugged him, saying “I take care of my friends.” before leaving. Ilya returned to the room. He hugged Sveta, telling her it was over. She cried for hours. She told him that Volkov had told her he had killed her mother after Sveta had escaped. Ilya held her until she fell asleep. He resolved to have no remorse, Volkov had not been a good person.

It was 1am as he sat outside the hospital smoking. Even though Sveta was conscious now, he still felt it hard to leave. He flicked through the messages on his new phone. So many had piled up in the past 12 days. He found Shane’s message, the pictures of the Cottage. It looked incredible, perfect and so peaceful. It felt much longer than 3 weeks since he last saw his Kotenok.

He recalled their last conversation and sighed. He had been an asshole. It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought of Shane in all those days he sat with Sveta. He had. A lot. He had wished he could come to the hospital, and put his fingers in his curls and rest his head on Ilya’s shoulder and tell him he wasn’t alone. Ilya had wanted that so much, but he knew he could never have it. Could he?

Lily: I was asshole. I am sorry. It was bad time, not your fault.

It didn’t say enough, but he hoped at least Shane would know that Ilya’s words weren’t meant to hurt him. Even if Shane didn’t respond.

He wandered away from the hospital slowly, walking rather than taking a cab. He didn’t really want to go home. He didn’t know where he wanted to be.

Lily: I have new phone. Can I call you? I want to explain.

What was he doing? Shane was a fucking client! Why was he the one chasing here?

Because when Shane hadn’t known Ilya was OK, he had risked his whole future to go back into that club alone, to find him. That had changed something for Ilya and he was only now realizing it.

Jane: It’s 1am, are you drunk?

Ilya let out a gasp of relief that was almost a laugh. He had answered.

Lily: No, not drunk. I am walking. Can I call?

When Ilya’s phone rang and Jane’s name appeared he felt sick with anxiety. He answered cautiously.

“Hello Shane.” He leaned back against the wall of a building. The street was silent apart from an occasional passing car.

“Rozanov. Are you OK?” Shane’s voice was shaky and Ilya hated himself for it.

“Yes, I am now.” he said softly. “A lot has happened. My sister was hurt badly, I have mostly been with her at hospital.”

There was a long pause, Ilya could almost hear Shane overthinking. “I… Is she ok?” he finally asked.

“Yes, yes she will recover. Doctors brought her out of coma a couple of days ago. I am sorry for what I said at club. You were worried for me, and I was unkind.” He started walking again, slowly.

“OK. " Shane answered cautiously. “I was out of line too. I shouldn’t have gone to the club to look for you. It’s not my business.”

Ilya laughed softly “No you should not, but not for reason you think. Because you could have been seen, been photographed. It was dangerous, you took big risk for me. It was stupid. I am grateful.”

“I’m not sure I was thinking straight enough to really consider all the implications.” Shane said quietly.

“Well I would not expect a gay man to think straight.” Ilya teased, falling back into his normal rhythm. It came so easily when he talked to Shane.

“Oh my God fuck off!” Shane chuckled. “Where are you walking?”

Ilya looked around and smiled as he realized where his feet had taken him. “I am near river, a block from you.”

“Do you want to come up?” Shane sounded so nervous. Ilya found it so endearing.

Should he? He was not in a headspace to be a Dom right now. He shouldn’t, but the idea of holding Shane close, feeling Shane’s strong arms around his body, his fingers in his hair pulled at him. He needed it, so much. The last 2 weeks, and particularly the last 24 hours. had been almost too much for him. But if he did this, it could be the worst decision he had ever made.

He needed this.

“I might knock.” he drawled

He could hear Shane’s smile. “I might open.”

**********

When the door opened Ilya smiled warmly at the sight of Shane in just his boxers, his hair ruffled. He must have been in bed earlier. Of course he was, it was almost 2am. What was he doing?

“I am sorry.” He sighed, shaking his head. “It is the middle of the night ,I should not…”

“Come inside, please.” Shane interrupted. “I’m glad you’re here.” He seemed hesitant, almost anxious, like when Ilya had first met him. Ilya realized Shane was still unsure what was happening. The truth was, so was Ilya.

Ilya stepped in and Shane closed the door behind him. Ilya turned and watched as Shane’s expression changed to one of genuine concern.

“You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“I haven’t.” he answered honestly. “Not really, they gave me cot at the hospital after the first 2 nights, but I…” He sighed. “I needed to hold her hand, to know she was there.”

Shane gave a light nod, showing understanding. He stepped forward slowly. “It must have been scary, especially after … losing your mom.”

Ilya instinctively reached for the cross around his neck at the mention of his Mama. He looked at Shane’s eyes, those beautiful big brown eyes so full of concern and empathy. A surge of emotion rose from the pit of his stomach, his eyes filling with tears, his breath quickening. He had no control left when the tears fell. When Shane stepped closer and pulled him close his body shook as he sobbed into Shane’s neck. Ilya pulled Shane tight against him and clung on for dear life as all of the fear, anger and grief he had carried within poured out.

Shane had somehow guided them to the couch and held onto Ilya as he continued to cry. He didn’t speak, just silently held him close and stroked his fingers through his curls. When Ilya started to calm down he felt almost drunk. He was so lightheaded. He found himself talking, needing Shane to hear the words.

“My mama liked to stroke my hair. It is soothing, thank you.” he said quietly.

Shane just answered with a soft kiss on Ilya’s forehead.

“She took too many pills.” Ilya said. “After my father beat her with whip, she took too many pills. I found her.” His eyes were open but unfocused, his mind lost in memories as his head rested on Shane’s chest.

Shane squeezed him closer and kissed his forehead again, fingers still tracing through Ilya’s hair.

“She was so beautiful, and so sad. My father was hard on her.” Ilya continued.

“And you?” Shane asked quietly.

“He would beat me with belt sometimes, but not whip. Mostly he just hurt with words. I hate him. I could not live with him after. I stayed with Mama’s sister but it was not good. I lived on street until kind lady, Olga found me. She helped me come to Canada.”

It was the mini version of his story, lacking a lot of gory detail but it was all he had the energy to tell. He just felt he needed Shane to understand him right now. Shane was so quiet.

“I am sorry to … What do they call it? Trauma dump on you.” He sighed.

Shane shushed him. “I’m glad I could be here for you.” he said softly.

“You are kind man, Shane. This is not a kind world.” Ilya’s mind still swam with images from his past, from today.

Shane moved his hand to lift Ilya’s chin and kissed him tenderly. Ilya looked up at him and realized he could never take money from this man again. He was so much more than a client. So much more than a friend. So much more even than a lover.

“I know a lot more about this world than you think.” Shane said, smiling at him. “I know it’s nothing like what you’ve been through. But being Shane Hollander is no picnic. I’ve been working solidly since I was a kid, it was always Hockey, no matter what the other kids were doing, for me, it was Hockey. Always training, playing games, watching others play, reading, learning. Always expected to win, to be the best. To get the best grades, to be number one pick, to get all the great brands, to always be the golden boy. It’s a lot.”

Ilya leaned up and kissed him softly “So even for millionaire superstar hockey player, life sucks, huh?”

“I used to think so.” Shane said softly.

Ilya lifted his head “Used to?”

Shane brushed Ilya’s hair behind his ear with a soft smile. “Yeah, until I met you.”

Ilya may have blushed for the first time he could remember. He didn’t know what to say to that. The silence grew a little awkward until Shane shifted and tried to roll from under Ilya and stand. “I bet you haven’t eaten properly in days either. Let me make you something.”

Ilya was relieved at the change of topic. “Shane, it’s 3am, I should let you go to sleep.”

“Stay, please.” Shane begged.

“Shane, I’m not in any mood to fuck tonight.” Ilya sighed.

“No, I know. Just stay, sleep here or I’ll sleep here and you have the bed, please just stay? I need to know you’ve had some good rest at least. "

Ilya really didn’t feel like going home. It felt wrong when Sveta was in hospital and laying on Shane had been so relaxing.

“OK, but you will not sleep on sofa in your own home.” He started to position himself on the sofa, pulling off the blanket that rested on the back.

“It’s a big bed, we could both…” Shane offered hopefully.

“I do not think you can resist my cock and it is as exhausted as the rest of me.” Ilya grinned.

Shane rolled his eyes. “Suit yourself, goodnight then.” He turned and walked away, lowering his boxers as he did. He stepped out of them, giving Ilya a view of his bare ass just before he disappeared out of view.

Ilya chewed on his lower lip. When did his Kotenok get so brazen? He smiled knowing he was the only person who saw THIS Shane Hollander.

Blyat! He rolled off the couch and walked into the bedroom nonchalantly as if it had been the plan all the time. He stripped before getting into the bed and pulling Shane close to him. He fell asleep quickly with him held tight.

******

When Ilya woke up, he was alone in the bed. He could see it was daylight. When his eyes finally focused, the clock on the bedside table showed 3pm. He’d slept deeply and felt refreshed for the first time in weeks.

He got out of the bed, used the bathroom and pulled on his joggers before wandering out into the living area of the apartment. Still no sign of Shane. He frowned, and padded back into the bedroom where he noticed a note on Shane’s pillow.

Had to go to training. Also have media event.

Didn’t want to wake you, you needed the sleep.

Help yourself to food.

Back around 7pm.

Shane x

Ilya sighed, pocketed the note and finished putting on his clothes. He left the apartment to go home. It felt like Shane was expecting him to still be there that evening. And right now, that was all too tempting. Last night had been something he hadn’t known he needed. Sharing his story, his pain with someone who had just listened, not judged or tried to fix him. Shane had listened, comforted and cared for him. It was nice, too nice. He couldn’t keep doing this.

He messaged Shane while waiting for his cab.

Lily: I have gone home and then will visit my sister. I slept well. Thank you

Jane: I’m glad you slept well. Anytime. Seriously.

Blyat!

Chapter End Notes

Chapter 16

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Shane had expected the apartment to be empty when he got home that night, but he still couldn’t help feeling disappointed. The previous night played over in his mind. Rozanov had seemed so vulnerable, and he had come to Shane. Waking up wrapped in his arms this morning had been incredible, he hated that he had had to slip away. He’d moved so carefully, determined not to wake Rozanov, who had needed the sleep. And if Shane was honest, he was afraid he would run away. He had been right of course, because as soon as he woke up, Rozanov had left.

Last night, when Shane had received that first text message apologizing, his breath had caught. He had been in bed but not sleeping. His mind had been replaying Rozanov ’s words in the club, over and over .

“You are my client, not my boyfriend.”

Logically, he knew that was the case but he wasn’t being very logical lately, especially when it came to Rozanov. Shane had started to convince himself that Rozanov had every right to be mad. Shane had no business chasing him down like that, he should have accepted that the arrangement had run its course and just got on with his life.

BUT, Rozanov had said that wasn’t the case. He’d said he’d lost his phone or something. It wasn’t that he was breaking contact, he wasn’t able to contact him. So did that mean he would have, eventually? Shane wasn’t so sure and he hated to admit that thought was breaking his heart. As much as he wanted to believe he could maintain a professional relationship with Rozanov, the truth was he wanted him. More than that, he missed him when he wasn’t there. Shane had no idea what to do.

Then the message came, like an answer to his prayers. Rozanov was reaching out, apologizing. He had intended to come back to Shane after all. The relief was overwhelming, especially when he confirmed Rozanov wasn’t drunk texting.

As soon as he heard Rozanov’s voice on the call Shane had wanted to see him, to touch him. He had sounded exhausted and so sad, still trying to crack his usual jokes, but Shane could hear the effort behind them. So when Rozanov said he was close by Shane prayed his invitation would be accepted.

Then Rozanov had been here, his eyes beautiful but so tired, his skin paler than usual, looking thinner somehow, almost fragile. When he had sobbed in his arms Shane didn’t care anymore about professional boundaries. Rozanov needed him, he had come to him to share his pain. It wasn’t the way he had wanted it to happen, but a part of Shane was happy that Rozanov was finally sharing things about his life. The heartbreaking story of his mother, his childhood in Russia. There was nothing Shane could say as Rozanov told him. He could only hold him and hope he felt safe in that moment with him.

Then, when he finally did speak, Shane had almost said too much.

“Yeah, until I met you.”

Maybe he had said too much. Maybe that’s why his apartment was empty now.

But Rozanov had come to the bed and had held him so tightly. That had to mean something, even if he was gone now. Maybe it was finally time for Shane to admit to himself he had fallen for him. Time to admit he wanted more. He thinks Rozanov may feel the same.

Jane: Hope you’re feeling better tonight. I’m here, if you need to talk.

A few minutes later his phone rang, it was Rozanov. He answered quickly.

“Hello Shane, I am OK. Thank you again for last night. You are good listener. " He certainly sounded brighter than last night.

“Seriously, no problem. I’m glad we’re ok, that you’re ok. Um.I was thinking - when your sister gets out. I know she likes hockey too, I can get you both good seats for a game.” It would be nice to see him at a game, Shane thought. It would be nice to see him there a lot.

Rozanov responded softly. “That is very generous, thank you. I think she would like that very much. Will I see you again, before?”

Shane asked cautiously “Do you want to?”

He heard Rozanov’s low chuckle “Of course, Kotenok. There is still so much I can teach you. Saturday? There will be no charge, I cannot take your money right now.”

Shane’s heart skipped. “Oh, um, well OK. Yes, Saturday, that would be good.” Then a moment of self-doubt. “You know you don’t owe me anything for last night, right?”

“I owe you a lot for last night Shane, but that is not why I cannot take your money. I want to see you, we will talk more then. See you Saturday, Kotenok.”

**************

The next day Shane was changing in the locker room after practice. The boys were wandering in and out of the showers and multiple conversations were going on around him. The kit boy came into the room and started putting rolls of rainbow colored tape in everyone’s stall.

“What’s this shit?” Drapeau sneered, holding the roll of tape up between two fingers like he might catch something if he held it properly.

“Pride night, next game. League trying it out.” the kit boy said. “Coach says he wants you all to put this on your sticks.” Shane quietly tied his laces.

“Fuck that shit!” Drapeau snarled, tossing the tape into a trash can. “Fuckin’ fags and queers can wave their own damn flag. I ain’t letting anyone see that I think that fucked up shit is ok! I’m here for the puck bunnies, not the fudge packers.”

Shane was suddenly VERY focused on his shoelaces. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears, his heart pounding. He watched as a couple of his teammates clapped Drapeau on the back and tossed away their tape as well. Nobody else said a thing. In fact the whole locker room was now filled with an awkward silence.

“Don’t see why the league gotta get messed up with all that shit.” Drapeau continued. “It’s not like any fucking fags play hockey, they’d be too afraid to break a fuckin nail.” He laughed, a few others joined him. Shane thought he might vomit.

Drapeau enjoyed the camaraderie of the few teammates who continued to support him with “Hell yeah, fuck the fags!”It was the only thing Shane registered, not that the rest of the room had busied themselves with getting ready and leaving. Shane kept his eyes fixed on the ground, afraid that if he caught someone’s eye he would be found out. He picked up his bag and left.

He got to his car and thankfully nobody else was around when he threw up. He climbed behind the wheel, eyes stinging, throat burning and heart racing. Those were his teammates, some he even considered friends. Hearing them talk that way had terrified him. He’d heard the usual taunts and slurs that were thrown around on the ice, but a part of him had convinced himself that it was just meaningless chirping.

Now he knew for sure Drapeau and others truly thought people like him were disgusting. They held such deep seated hatred. He couldn’t understand. He wondered, what might have happened, if he had been brave enough to speak, if he had said “What would you say if some of our players were gay? What if it was me? Would you still say the same?” He had wanted to say that, to call out the ugliness of Drapeau’s words. But he didn’t, he couldn’t.

He drove home, immediately went to his gym and got on the treadmill. He needed to burn off this anxious energy. His mind was spiraling. He could lose everything if he was found out. His team, the league, his sponsors, his fans. Everything he had worked so hard for, everything he had poured his whole life into, everything he deserved would be just gone because he was gay.

He increased the speed on the treadmill, breathing hard now but continuing to push as he tried to outrun the thoughts that plagued him. It had to stop, he had to make himself NOT be gay somehow. He had to be what everyone expected him to be, wasn’t that always the plan? Live up to the expectations, or even better, exceed them. Don’t disappoint. That’s what had been drilled into him for as long as he could remember. Tears mingled with sweat as he kept running, his heart now racing, his breath ragged.

So much riding on him, the expectations of his coaches, his parents. Of Asian kids who didn’t see themselves in the league, of fans who worshiped him. He couldn’t disappoint them, and he knew he would, if they knew the truth.

He’d pushed himself too far and almost lost his footing. He immediately stopped the machine and flopped on the floor against a wall gasping for breath. He was facing the mirrored wall in this room and stared at his reflection.

“So is this it?” he asked his reflection. “Be what everyone else wants me to be my whole life? Fuck what I want?”

He waited for an answer he knew wouldn’t come. Two nights until Rozanov would be here. Maybe he could tell him what he should do.

******

When Rozanov arrived, Shane opened the door and turned to walk into the apartment. Rozanov must have picked up on the mood right away.

“Are you OK, Shane? No smile for me today?” he asked softly as he placed his bag on the floor. He shrugged off his jacket and kicked off his shoes.

Shane was half way to the living room. He turned and looked at Rozanov, as always a Greek god in tank top and jeans. He managed a half smile and then sighed heavily.

“I don’t know what to do.” he said honestly, glad to have someone to finally share his dilemma with.

Rozanov moved towards him and placed his hands firmly on each of Shane’s arms, his expression soft and concerned. “OK, so talk with me. Let’s sit, yes?”

Shane nodded and let Rozanov take his hand to lead him to the couch, where they sat down together.

“Do you want a drink?” Shane asked almost immediately, starting to stand again. Rozanov firmly pulled him back and held his arms again to keep him in place.

“No need to play gracious host, something serious is on your mind. I do not like this, unhappy Shane. Tell me.”

Shane chewed on his lip for a short while. He was trying to work out what to say, his eyes avoiding Rozanov’’s, because he knew if he looked into them, the decision would be made for him without further thought. He scratched at his neck, shifted uncomfortably and took a breath before beginning.

“Something happened in the locker room the other day…” He continued to share what had happened and how he had been spiraling ever since. Rozanov listened silently, his hands maintaining a grounding hold on Shane’s arms.

“You see it, don’t you? Guys and women coming out in other sports. It’s still a big thing but it’s happening and what you don’t see is what happens after that. Are they just accepted and everything continues like before? Do they get punished somehow? Not selected? Bullied? Do they just end up going back to living like they did before they came out?”

Rozanov’s hands started to stroke gently over his arms.

Shane continued. “It’s just, hockey. It’s been my life for as long as I can remember. It’s been what I’ve lived and breathed. Every weekend was at the rink, every evening was watching games. Learning strategies and form. Then it was competition and then Juniors and now the league. And fuck, not in any one moment of that did I meet or hear of a single gay player.”

Shane’s head was in his hands now. He was hunched forward and Rozanov moved one hand to stroke his back. Rozanov remained quiet.

“It’s not even something anyone has so much as suggested might be possible. Sure, you get the stupid slurs and so on but it’s just fucking chirping. I’ve never heard anyone actually even dare suggest another player may actually be gay. Then this fucking Pride night is happening. Monday, some initiative from the league they’re trialing they said. They expect these men, who throw words like fag and pansy and fudge packer around like it’s fucking nothing, to go and play with Rainbow tape on their sticks to show how fucking inclusive the league is. Well fuck them, it isn’t, not one little bit.” His voice was louder now as he got angry and finally looked up to Rozanov.

Rozanov’s blue eyes were glassy and looked like the lake in the summer. He blinked at Shane, trying to compose himself a little.

“You are right to be angry.” Rozanov finally told him. “Not just to the ones who say those things, but also the ones who say nothing. They may not know there is a gay person in the room to defend but they should tell those dinosaurs to shut the fuck up anyway.”

“You think I…?” Shane frowned.

Rozanov shook his head “Not you. You had good reason to keep quiet. I mean the straight ones. You needed to be safe. Would be very ironic if they are also gay. So, I assume that rest of your team is straight but do not have this hatred that Drapeau has in his heart. They should tell him, they should be making HIM feel bad. It is sad they did not.”

Rozanov put his hand against Shane’s cheek. “You are gay yes? Do you honestly think you can change this about yourself?”

Shane lowered his eyes and shook his head slowly. “I wish… I wish I could be at least bi like you, maybe it would be easier.”

Rozanov leaned in and gave him a soft kiss. “No Shane, it would not. You would still like men and you would still feel like shit about it. Do not wish to be something you are not. You are perfect, the world is not. Being bi is not a get out of Homophobia Jail free card. "

Shane chuckled a little at that and Rozanov’s eyes lit up. “Thank you, for letting me vent.” Shane said, feeling like a weight had been lifted.

Rozanov lightly patted his cheek. “Of course. This is what we do now, yes? I cry in your arms and you in mine. If we feel like it, have sex. Is good arrangement.”

Shane appreciated Rozanov’s efforts to cheer him up. “You’re actually pretty funny you know.” He grins.

Rozanov winked that sexy wink and Shane’s cock instantly twitched in response. “Is Russian character trait, we laugh in the face of adversity. Then drown our sorrows in Vodka!”

Shane leaned in and kissed him. He’d never initiated a kiss with Rozanov before but in that moment he felt like he might die if he didn’t feel his lips against his own. His fingers grasped the soft curls on his head to hold him close as their tongues explored each other. Rozanov’s hands splayed across his back holding him tightly as well. When their lips finally parted they stayed close, breathing each other in.

Safe. For the first time in days, Shane felt safe.

“I missed you.” Shane confessed, his eyes focused on the perfect cupid bow of Rozanov’s upper lip.

Rozanov smiled softly. “I like these freckles very much, like a …what is word?… pattern of stars.”

“Constellation?” Shane answered with a shy smile.

“Yes, constellation.” The word was clumsy on his tongue but Shane was enchanted anyway.

“I always hated them, very uncommon in Japanese skin.” He blushed.

Rozanov’s gaze was so soft it was almost unnerving. “No, this makes you unique, and beautiful. You are not just Japanese, yes? This is perfect blend of both your parents. They must be so proud of you.”

Mention of his parents made Shane pull back and straighten up. “Yeah, sure, of course, my Mom is my manager as well, so. "

Rozanov interrupted. “You are scared of your parents?”

Shane frowned and shook his head immediately “What? No. Not scared of them, they’re great. I just… I guess I’m scared of disappointing them. Only child, they put a lot into getting me here. I just don’t want to let them down.”

“You think they would be disappointed that you are gay?” Rozanov asked, shuffling closer to close the gap again.

Shane thought about it for a moment, imagining a conversation at his parent’s dinner table where over pasta he would suddenly decide to tell them. He answered “I don’t think it would, they’re good people. They want me to be happy, but I think they would be disappointed if it meant my career was damaged.”

“Hockey is very important in your family, yes?” Rozanov asked, his hand resting gently on Shane’s thigh.

Shane nodded. “VERY important. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to face whatever it would mean if this ever got out.” His heart was pounding.

Rozanov leaned forward and kissed him, guiding him to lie down on the couch as he crawled over him.

“You have never disappointed me, Shane.” he said softly as he flicked open the button on Shane’s jeans. He slid his hand under his boxer briefs and over Shane’s half-hard cock. “And still you do not.” He grinned.

Yes, this was what Shane needed, to stop thinking. To just be here with Rozanov, the only one who could take him out of his head. It wasn’t an answer, but more than that he needed a break from the questions for a while.

Shane moaned into the kiss and gripped his fingers around Rozanov’s broad shoulders.

“Fuck me, please.” He whimpered into the kiss and Rozanov took the signal to deepen the kiss and stroke him harder.

The kisses moved to his neck, below his ear where Rozanov knew just how to make his whole body shiver. “You are perfect, Shane.” Ilya whispered into his ear. “My perfect Kotenok.”

Shane had once disliked being called Kitten, but now that name from Rozanov’s lips in his language made him ache with need. He arched his hips into Rozanov’s hand and grasped at the fabric of his tank top, trying to pull it up so he could touch the Russian’s smooth hot skin.

Rozanov paused to pull the tank top over his head and stood beside Shane who remained laying prone, trying to wrestle off his own t-shirt. Rozanov yanked down Shane’s jeans and underwear before removing his own. Rozanov’s eyes were predatory as he crawled back over Shane, after retrieving his bag and bringing it close to the couch. Rozanov kissed Shane deeply, both men moaning happily as hands roamed and tongues dueled.

Shane purred as Rozanov’s kisses moved lower along his body, pausing to nibble on his nipples, then along his abs to the curve of his hip bone. And when Shane thought he might die from the anticipation, Rozanov finally took his cock into his mouth and licked and sucked on it like it was the tastiest popsicle he’d ever had. Shane’s eyes closed and his head pressed back into the couch as he arched his body closer, overwhelmed by the sensation yet demanding more.

Rozanov’s hands were gripping Shane’s hips in a way he knew would leave marks, but right now he didn’t care. Shane curled his fingers into Rozanov’s silky curls and let the man do what he did best for Shane, making him completely leave his body.

Shane’s eyes were closed so he missed when Rozanov must have reached into his bag for the lube, but his eyes opened again quickly when he felt a lubed finger teasing around his hole.

“Fuck! When?” He gasped.

Rosanov, still choking on Shane’s cock, grinned. His eyes lifted to meet Shane’s. He gave another of those devastating winks as the finger pushed through the ring of muscle. Shane almost came there and then.

“Jesus Christ!” Shane exhaled as his body arched violently.

Rozanov lifted his head, releasing Shane’s cock with an obnoxiously loud POP.

“I do not think it is Jesus Christ you have to thank right now, Kotenok. Relax for me, I will take care of you. All your worries will be gone.”

“Rozanov!” Shane gasped and repeated again “Rozanov…. Ilya!”

The Russian, who had started to lick and suck on Shane’s balls, paused. His finger still inside Shane, he lifted his eyes back to find Shane’s. Shane was breathless and aching and wanting more but so very aware he had just said something that changed things.

“So you DO remember my name, Kotenok.” Ilya drawled with a mischievous smile. “Now I know your teammates are assholes, I think I prefer you to not address me like them.” He sank in a second finger and curled them to brush against Shane’s prostate. “Your teammates don’t make you feel this good, no? I think making you feel this good deserves first name.”

Shane moaned loudly “Fuck! Ilya. Yes, please… Fuck. Ilya. Ilya.”

Ilya groaned at that and continued his ministrations while resuming sucking Shane’s balls.

He spent some time carefully opening Shane up, working him up to a third finger, kissing and biting the inside of his thighs while Shane writhed and moaned. With the fingers of one hand still inside Shane, Ilya managed to retrieve a condom with his free hand, rip open the packet using his teeth and expertly slide the condom onto his own thick, throbbing cock. He covered it with lube and positioned himself so when his fingers eventually slid out from Shane, they were soon replaced by his cock, pushing and stretching the wall of muscle just a little further before pressing in and sliding home.

Shane cried out as tears slipped down his face. The fullness of having Ilya inside him again was absolute heaven. It was only in that moment he realized how frightened he had been just a few days ago, that he would never feel this again. How frightened he had been just that day, of wanting this. He could never deny himself this, nothing had ever felt more right.

Ilya’s hand was on Shane’s stomach as he leaned forward.

“Is OK?” he asked, probably noticing the tears.

Shane just nodded wordlessly and pushed back against him trying to get more, always wanting more.

“You are so beautiful Shane, do you know this? So very beautiful when you let go like this, when you let me take care of you. Make you feel good.” Ilya’s praise washed over Shane like cool water and when Ilya started a steady rhythm of long, deep thrusts that tormented and teased him, he would have happily drowned in it.

Ilya’s pace quickened and soon he was driving into Shane fast and hard, his hand pressing down on Shane’s abs trying to keep his body steady as Shane writhed and arched.

“You take me so good my Kotenok, such a good boy. Say my name again, Shane. I want to hear you coming on my cock, saying my name.” Ilya fisted Shane’s cock and stroked furiously, easily lubricated by the leaking precum.

Shane was seeing stars and could barely remember how to speak. His mind felt like it was somewhere else entirely and had to be dragged back to obey this command. He licked his lips, dry from panting. The pressure had been building and building inside him but when the cork finally popped it almost took him by surprise. His eyes flew open and he moaned “Ilya” as he looked back at the brightest blue watching him. Three more hard thrusts and Ilya came inside him. Shane watched his face slacken, his eyes glaze and his lips murmur “Shane” before he fell onto Shane, his head on Shane’s chest as they both gasped for air.

“You have killed me Shane. I am dead.” Ilya chuckled. “What a way to go.”

Shane was still floating somewhere between heaven and earth. He held onto Ilya loosely and nuzzled into his hair.

When he had caught his breath Ilya moved, despite Shane’s protests. He stood beside him, seeming to think for a moment, before bending and sliding his arms under Shane. He lifted him alarmingly easily.

“What are you doing?” Shane gasped, wrapping his arms quickly around Ilya’s neck, not quite able to believe he had just been picked up like a child.

“We both need shower.” Ilya answered plainly as he walked them towards the bathroom. He grinned at Shane, a slightly smug, mischievous grin and Shane felt his stomach flutter.

There was an area in Shane’s shower designed to be sat on. That was right where Ilya carefully lowered him before placing a soft kiss in his hair. Then Ilya went about turning on the water and getting the temperature just right.

“I can’t believe you just carried me across my apartment.” Shane muttered, still in shock, and still very floaty.

Ilya grinned wide and shrugged. “I am strong. Is no problem.”

Shane leaned into him, his hands caressing Ilya’s legs as Ilya reached for Shane’s shower gel. He then angled the shower head to make sure Shane was under the stream of warm water.

“You rest, Kotenok, I will take care of you. You have been good boy tonight.” Ilya crouched and smiled at Shane warmly before pouring some shower gel in his hands. He rubbed it into a lather on Shane’s shoulders, then chest and arms, his hands working to thoroughly clean every part of him. He encouraged Shane to stand and gently cleaned his intimate areas, with a touch both purposeful and gentle, but the intimacy of course had Shane responding. Ilya noticed. “Never disappointed.” he murmured softly, grinning. Once he had cleaned down to Shane’s feet he used the shower head to rinse him clean, then carefully sat him back down. While he washed himself he took care the warm water covered Shane so he wouldn’t get cold.

Once done he stepped out and led Shane by the hands out of the shower before wrapping him in a large soft bath towel. Shane swayed gently on his feet as Ilya carefully patted him dry all over, found Shane’s bathrobe hanging on the door and wrapped Shane up in it. He pulled him forward and kissed him softly. Shane’s eyes closed and he rested his forehead against Ilya’s.

“This is nice.” he said quietly.

He felt Ilya let out a breath, felt Ilya’s hand brush against his cheek. “Yes Kotenok. It is.” he said so softly Shane could barely hear him. Then Ilya’s hands were on his arms, guiding him to sit again on the closed toilet seat. Ilya dried himself quickly and wrapped his towel around his waist. Finally Ilya guided Shane out to his bedroom and unwrapped the robe, letting it drop to the floor before guiding him into the bed.

Shane felt so sleepy, so happy, so peaceful. Everything was quiet, it was just him and Ilya. Yes, he liked using that name now, it felt more?… It felt more. This felt like more.

Ilya sat on the bedside and smiled down at Shane. “You will sleep well tonight, I think.” He grinned.

“I will if you stay.” Shane answered honestly. Seeing Ilya take a deep breath he begged. “Please.”

“You are bad for business.” Ilya sighed as his shoulders dropped. He stood, letting the towel drop on top of Shane’s robe before walking around to the other side of the bed and climbing in.

Shane chose not to think too much about that remark. Instead, thankful he had gotten his wish, he turned and curled into Ilya, falling asleep before he even had a chance to hear the Russian whisper. “Goodnight moy lyubimyj” (My beloved).

Chapter End Notes

Chapter 17

Chapter Summary

Waking that morning with Shane sleeping peacefully wrapped around him, Ilya felt happy for the first time in a very long time. He kept still, not wanting to move Shane who had a soft smile on his lips. Ilya wondered if Shane was dreaming and if so, what it was. He imagined perfectly folded clothes and alphabetically ordered DVDs. He chuckled softly to himself. He adored this man. He was done denying it to himself, he was falling in love. It was a problem, and he hated that it was a problem.

Shane had made it very clear what could happen if his sexuality was discovered. It was clear how important hockey and being successful in hockey was to Shane. It was heartbreaking, but he knew he could never allow himself to be the reason Shane suffered any of the things he feared. They would have to remain secret. Private. Only for them. So it wouldn’t be fair to Shane to let him know Ilya’s real feelings, because he would feel pressured. He suspected Shane was getting overly attached as well. He shouldn’t have stayed, but damn those big brown eyes were irresistible. And it was better than going home to an empty apartment.

Shane shifted. Ilya pulled him closer and Shane purred happily. “Good morning.”

Ilya softly stroked Shane’s hair back away from his eyes. “Good morning Shane.”

Shane sighed softly. His eyes still closed, that smile still playing on his lips. “Thank you for staying.”

Ilya placed a soft kiss into Shane’s hair. “I will need to leave soon to visit Sveta. They might let her come home today.”

Shane’s eyes opened and he looked up at Ilya. “That’s good news, that she’s coming home. Not that you need to leave.”

Ilya licked his lips and leaned down to kiss Shane softly. “I know. I need to go see and get her home. Then get back to work.”

There was a frown on Shane’s face for a moment before he coughed softly, corrected it and started to sit up. “Yes, of course. Work.”

“You have training today?” Ilya asked and Shane nodded. “Yeah, a new center joined us today from Toronto. LeMaire. We were drafted the same year. I’ve never quite liked him. So it will be his first practice. We also have an exhibition game with the Boston Raiders on Thursday.”

Ilya nodded. “Yes. I know of him, seems like an unpleasant person.”

Ilya moved to sit up as well. Shane leaned into him. “It’s nice, having you here.” he said quietly, resting his head on Ilya’s shoulder. “I really missed you, when you were gone.”

Ilya sucked in his cheeks, tightened his jaw and cursed in his mind. Why was this man his kryptonite? Why did he struggle so much to stay professional with him? He coughed. “Yes, I am sorry about that.”

“I know.” Shane answered “I know you were worried for your sister and you had no phone, of course you wouldn’t be thinking about me. I get it now. So, no apology needed. I’m just glad you’re back. "

But Ilya HAD been thinking about Shane. A lot. He could not let him know that. He kissed Shane’s hair again before moving off the bed. “I need to go.” he said, heading out of the room to go and find his clothes, trying not to sound as conflicted as he felt.

“Right. Yes, of course.” Shane moved off his side of the bed and went to his dresser to pull out clean underwear, before following Ilya to the living room.

Ilya was collecting his clothes piece by piece and sliding into them. Shane stood watching awkwardly . “I, um. I’d like to see you again. Do you think Sveta would be up to coming to the game on Thursday?”

Ilya paused, looking up to smile at Shane. “She might, I will ask her. Thank you again for offer of tickets. I can come Saturday as usual, back to old pattern, yes?”

Shane nodded and Ilya could sense he wanted to say more. He shifted nervously on his feet while Ilya continued dressing. As Ilya approached him, heading to the door, Shane’s eyes had dropped to the ground. “Are you sure I… I don’t need to pay you? I have it.”

Ilya’s heart ached. He knew what he had to do, for Shane’s sake, but he hated it anyway. “Not for last night. I said no charge, but probably best moving forward, yes?”

Shane nodded, his eyes still on the ground. Ilya lifted his chin and kissed him softly. “Remember, Kotenok, you are brave and I am proud of you.”

Shane smiled a little, his eyes now meeting Ilya’s. This was better. Ilya could leave now, he couldn’t leave him unhappy.

“OK, next Saturday then. Let me know when Sveta wants tickets.”

Ilya tapped his cheek lightly. “Better. See you next Saturday, Shane.” Then he opened the door and left.

*********

Sveta did come home that day. The bruises were fading and she was still very sore, but happy to be home. Ilya had insisted on carrying her from the cab which she thought was ridiculous, but he was just so glad she was coming home. He wanted to spoil her. He gently lowered her down on the couch and went behind the kitchen counter to make drinks for them both. When he returned with two glasses of iced coke he noticed she was watching him with a strange curiosity.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked her.

“You are different,” Sveta answered, “but I cannot tell what it is. Still the same messy curls, you finally shaved after all those days, but that’s not it. Ilyusha, are you in love?”

Ilya felt the blush rising, he had zero control over it. Her eyes grew wide, matching her smile. “Oh my god, you are!”

“It’s just a silly thing. It cannot be anything, so no big deal” He tried to brush it off.

She frowned. “Why not? You are a hot single man. Are they married?”

He shook his head “No, nothing like that.”

“Tell me.” she whined leaning forward and pouting right in front of his face.

“I can’t.” Ilya answered with a soft frown, because he wanted to. He wanted to tell her so much. Shane was a client, someone he had promised particular discretion. He would not betray him.

Sveta pouted more. “I do not like secrets.” She huffed, falling back against the cushions. “Secrets lead to lies, lead to pain.”

Ilya gave her an anguished look. She knew his job required keeping secrets. Until now it had only been other people’s secrets, this one was the first that properly affected him. “You know why.” he told her and she scowled.

“I hate your job.”

“I know.” Ilya said sadly.

This seemed to move Sveta to take some pity on him “Ilya, I do not want to see you unhappy.” She reached out and he took her hand, holding it gently. His thumb brushed the back of her hand.

“I am not unhappy, I’m just stupid. Let us talk about other things. Would you like to go to a Metros game? I can get tickets whenever you want, good seats.”

She blinked at him. “You can? Since when?”

“I have a connection.” He shrugged. “Heard you were hurt and wanted to offer a treat.”

Sveta gave him a soft smile. “I see. Of course I want to go, when can we go?” She was looking at him strangely again. He had the feeling he had said too much, but he would not let her break the trust Shane had in him.

“Thursday if you like, or if you need more time to rest…”

Sveta cut him off. “Yes, Thursday would be good. Oh my god, this is exciting. I haven’t been to a game in so long.”

*********

That night, Ilya went back to work. The club was busy and he had a full night despite not having any pre-bookings. He’d gone through the motions, done what the clients needed, but he knew his heart wasn’t in it anymore. Maybe it was time to start looking at applying for college. He hadn’t quite saved as much as he’d like, but he could manage.

He’d sent a message to Shane earlier, saying Sveta would like to come on Thursday. As he checked his phone after his last client he smiled when he saw a message from ‘Jane’.

Jane: Tickets will be waiting at the box office in your name.

Jane: Got rink-side, near our box.

Jane: Sorry, probably won’t be able to talk, but it will be nice to see you there.

He shook his head smiling. He could not believe he was losing his heart to such a sweet guy.

********

Thursday came quickly. Ilya had made Sveta arrive early with him, not wanting her to be jostled around too much by the crowds. Thankfully the bruising on her face was almost gone. The stitches had been removed that morning, so with a good covering of make-up she looked more like her old self.

The Zamboni was preparing the ice as they took their seats, moving slowly and purposefully around the rink. Fans were starting to trickle in as Ilya returned to their seats with a couple of cans of beer and hot dogs.

“I can’t believe you have these seats Ilya, they are amazing. Do you think I might get a puck?” Sveta gushed.

Ilya preened and smiled as he handed over her hot dog. “I know important people.” He told her and she grinned.

“Yes, with strange sex habits.” she mocked and he stared at her with his eyes wide, unable to believe she had said this so loudly in public. Thankfully, nobody was close enough to hear. “Sveta, this is a family place.”

She laughed “Oh of course, the precious Canadian children can watch grown men bash each other against the boards, punch and fight, but don’t let them know about sex!”

Ilya just shook his head, he knew when it was best to not poke the bear.

Just then players started to skate out for their warm-up skate. Fans cheered. Ilya felt his heart rate increase. Was he really getting excited just at the idea of seeing Shane? He watched as the Metros’ goalkeeper skated out first, followed by a couple of other players and his heart leapt a little as Shane joined them on the ice. He watched him expertly skate a lap, finally coming close to where they were sitting. Sveta jumped to her feet cheering “Whooo Hollander!” Shane looked over and flashed them both a warm smile in passing. Just then some kids had run down to the glass, getting between them and watching Shane.

Sveta sat down again. “Wow! He is so much cuter in person. You were right, Ilyusha”.

Ilya drank from his beer can and took a deep breath. “Yes, yes I told you.” he said, trying to sound as unbothered as possible, despite his heart racing.

“Oh there’s Pike! And Drapeau! Oh my God, Ilyusha, why have we not done this before?”

“We did when we were kids. Papa Petrov brought us, you ate too much candy and threw up on the person in front of you. We never came again. He made us watch it on TV.” Ilya reminded her.

“I did not appreciate the beauty back then. We will do this more often.” She declared. Ilya chuckled.

He remembered what Shane had mentioned about Drapeau’s comments in the dressing room. “I have heard Drapeau is very unpleasant.”

“But still an awesome goalkeeper, nobody is perfect.” She shrugged.

Oh, if only she knew. If only she knew how perfect Shane was, his Kotenok, out there on the ice being perfect despite having people like Drapeau around. He watched Shane, who was now on his knees doing stretches that were frankly indecent. He could use this for a future scene. He wondered how Shane might feel about that. After stretches came drills, skating up and down the ice with a puck dancing with his stick. Each time, when he’d get to the glass he’d pick up the puck and toss it to the waiting kids who clamored against each other. Whoever caught it would hold it close to their chest like the most precious thing ever. It was kinda cute, but when Ilya looked at Sveta she was pouting.

“What’s wrong?” Ilya asked.

“Stupid Canadian children. Like a pack of wolves, I will not get a puck.” Ilya chuckled. When he looked back he saw Shane heading right for them. Sveta stood as she saw him approach, yelling “Hollander, you are my favorite!” making Ilya chuckle. Shane slid on his approach to the board, showered the glass in snow before reaching down to pick up the puck. He tapped on the glass, indicating Sveta whose eyes were now wide in astonishment. Shane threw the puck, a little harder than he had before, so it sailed over the heads of the children and straight into Sveta’s hands. She squealed in delight and looked up again, just in time to see Shane wink and skate off. The children in front of Sveta turned and glared, but she just held the puck close and shook her head.

Sveta sat back down slowly. She turned to Ilya, the puck held reverently in both of her hands. “Did Shane Hollander just wink at me? I think I may die.”

Ilya thought he was smiling. He thought he had successfully hidden his envy at that interaction. That nobody would see that he so much wished Shane could interact like that with him. When he noticed Sveta’s expression change he realized he must be showing that pain to her trained eye. He watched her connect the dots and her eyes grow wide as she reached out one hand to cover his. “Oh Ilyusha.” she said sympathetically, her eyes getting shiny.

Ilya’s jaw tightened. “Don’t, Sveta. I can’t. You know I can’t.” He couldn’t lie to her, but he couldn’t say more either. She took a deep breath and they both looked back out to the ice, where Shane was now practicing shots on goal, to the delight of the Metros fans. Sveta turned Ilya’s palm to face upwards and placed the puck onto his hand. Ilya turned back to her, looking confused.

“This was meant for you.” she said softly. “The puck, the wink, they were for you.”

Ilya smiled softly and turned his hand, placing the puck back in hers. He closed her fingers over it. “No. Maybe the wink, but the puck was for you. A gift for getting well.”

Sveta took the offering and leaned over to hug Ilya tightly. “I love you, Ilyusha. You are crazy and a masochist, but you are also generous and kind and I love you.” she whispered in his ear as she pulled him close. Ilya had to do everything he could to not burst into tears in her arms right there and then. He squeezed her back, and took long deep breaths. When she pulled away, the players were coming off the ice. Ilya just caught Shane looking in their direction before disappearing into the tunnel.The Zamboni returned to do its slow dance around the rink.

A minute or two later his phone buzzed.

Jane: Are you ok? You looked upset.

Ilya’s head lowered. Shane shouldn’t be concerned with his feelings right before a game.

Lily: I am fine. Sveta is very excited about the puck, thank you.

He took a photo of Sveta sitting next to him still holding the puck like a treasure and sent it.

Jane: I’m glad. She looks well. She is very beautiful.

Lily: Yes, she is. But she is sister so I don’t look at her that way. She thinks you’re hot.

Jane: I think you’re hot.

Lily: Focus on game. I will not be responsible for you getting beaten by Boston.

Jane: OK, I’m glad you’re here. See you Saturday.

Ilya sighed and shook his head. Sveta was looking over his shoulder and chuckled. “Jane, eh? Clever.”

“Shut up.” Ilya grinned. “I will go get another hot dog before the game starts.” He got up and made his way to the concession stand before she could stop him. He needed a minute to breathe.

He got back just in time for the players to start skating out again. He handed a hot dog to Sveta, and pointed at the rink when she gave him a curious look. He wanted her to focus on the game, not on him.

The game was thrilling. So much energy and movement. Ilya thought Shane looked like he was born to skate as he watched him control the puck, dodge other players, turn and shoot like it was the most natural thing in the world. It was clear that all the time and effort Shane had told him about had been worth it. He was a superstar! He cheered when Shane checked other players into the boards and winced when Shane was the one being checked. His Kotenok always just got back up and carried on.

The Metros won, 4 goals to 1. Shane had scored a hat trick and was surrounded by his teammates knocking their helmets and patting his back. Ilya watched him, his eyes brimming with proud tears, as both he and Sveta stood and applauded as they skated by. It may not have been a league game but any victory against the Raiders was always well received by the fans. Shane skated a lap clapping at the fans, flashing a broad smile as he passed them. Sveta linked her arm with Ilya and leaned into his ear.

“We are going to talk about this, Ilyusha.” She told him as Shane disappeared with the others off the rink. Ilya just nodded silently.

*******

Sveta’s voice cut through the silence in their kitchen. “Okay. I understand you cannot break your confidence. So let me say that I am talking about a fictional famous person, called Blaine, who is a client and who you have fallen in love with. Okay?”

Ilya sat at their small circular kitchen table, his hands clasped on the surface, his eyes lowered. Sveta was pacing in front of him. She had been conspicuously quiet on the way home, no doubt building up to this conversation. He swallowed. In a way he was glad she had figured it out, that he had someone he trusted he could share this with. However, he had promised absolute discretion to Shane. He was as confident as he could be that she would never tell another person, but he still did not feel comfortable discussing it openly.

“Okay.” he said quietly, almost feeling like he was being scolded.

“You have rules, yes? With your clients.” She leaned on the table, both palms flat. Ilya’s eye was drawn to a stitched wound on the back of her hand. She did not sound angry, but rather had that tone a person takes with a friend who needs a dose of tough love. Maybe that’s exactly what this was.

He nodded. “Yes, of course.”

“And one of those rules is that you keep it professional. Yes?” She returned to pacing in front of him. “You do whatever it is you do in your session, you leave, there is nothing until the next session, yes?”

Ilya nodded again and Sveta pulled out the other chair and sat beside him, her hand on his arm, her voice softer.

“How did this happen?”

“I stayed the night.” Ilya confessed, turning to look at her soft, concerned expression.

“Ilyusha, you never do this. Ever.”

“Twice. The second time, it was too late. I already did not want to leave.” He dropped his head onto his arms. “I have never felt like this about any man, or woman. He has some magic power in his eyes. I cannot resist. I don’t want to.” His voice was muffled by his arms, but he knew Sveta had heard him when he felt her arm around his shoulders and her chin resting on his head.

“Does Blaine feel the same?” she asked him.

Ilya sighed heavily and whined. “He does not say as much. I think he is starting to become attached. It is only me who sees him that way. I see the real him and it is so beautiful and powerful. In these few months, I can already see the change in him, the growth. He is becoming more confident and strong.”

“This is a problem. I do not know of any out gay hockey players.” Sveta lifted her chin and kissed his head. Her fingers gently caressed his hair as she moved away. Ilya lifted his head again.

“It would be dangerous for him. His teammates are homophobic, cruel men. He has worked too hard to have it taken away like that.” Ilya frowned and leaned into Sveta’s touch.

“I know you do not want to hear this, Ilyusha, and I wish I didn’t have to suggest it, but I think you need to walk away. To protect yourself, and Sh…Blaine.”

Ilya seriously considered this for a moment, but shook his head. “He would be alone again. He would not be brave enough to find someone else. It would destroy him to have to go back into that box I freed him from.” He smiled, thinking of that confident wink from the ice. “He shines now, he says his teammates have noticed. What we share helps him find himself, find his power.”

“And what about you, Ilyusha? You do not shine. Don’t you deserve to shine as well?”

“I know.” he said, holding back tears. “This is my fault, I broke my own rules. I let myself be too soft with him. I need to go back to how it was. Then I can help him. I will learn to be myself again.”

“I will not convince you to leave him, will I?” Sveta asked, knowing she was defeated.

Ilya gave a bittersweet smile. “No, this kitten I cannot give away.”

Ilya looked at his phone.

Jane: Hope you and your sister enjoyed the game.

Jane: It was really good to see you there.

Jane: Looking forward to Saturday.

He could not reply tonight. From now on, things needed to change.

Chapter 18

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Shane chewed his lip looking at the ridiculous amount of food he had ordered. He didn’t know what kind of food Ilya liked so he had ordered Chinese, pizza, wings, and even sushi. He’d googled a good brand of Russian vodka and ordered a bottle. Finally, he had lined up three movies on the coffee table, a comedy, an action movie and something Russian with English subtitles he thought Ilya might enjoy. He had even changed outfit three times. It was pathetic.

It was just another Saturday night with Ilya, they’d had plenty of those, this shouldn’t be any different.

Except it was. Ilya had stayed, intentionally, twice. He had cried in Shane’s arms and shared so much about his family and life in Russia. He had wrapped himself around Shane in the darkness and whispered softly in his native tongue. Words Shane had spent an embarrassing amount of time trying to translate online.

Moy lyubimyj.

My beloved.

That’s what the translation sites had said. He had checked half a dozen to be sure. He could barely believe it. Maybe it was a common term in Russian. Maybe it was usual to say that after fucking someone into oblivion? Shane wasn’t even sure he’d really heard it, he had been almost asleep, it could have been a dream.

Or maybe it was as special as it felt.

The doorbell sounded and Shane almost fell over himself to get to the door. He took a moment to compose himself before answering. He didn’t want to appear too keen after all.

Shane’s breath left his lungs in a tremble after taking in the sight before him. Ilya stood in the corridor wearing black jeans, a tight-fitted shirt that accentuated his broad chest and narrow waist, and his usual leather jacket. His curls were neatly arranged, he was freshly shaved, he looked rested, strong and unspeakably beautiful.

He also looked like Master Rozanov.

Not Ilya.

There was no warm smile. No teasing wink. No softening of those bright blue eyes when they met Shane’s.

“Good evening, Shane.” Ilya’s voice was steady but lacked the warmth Shane had grown used to.

Shane blinked. “Hey.”

Ilya stepped inside when Shane moved back. He removed his jacket and shoes, placing both carefully beside the door. Then he picked up the black bag he had brought with him. Shane closed the door slowly.

“I got food,” he said, gesturing towards the kitchen counter. “I didn’t know what you might like, so I got a bunch of stuff. I have Vodka, it’s a good brand apparently. We could eat first, or after. I also found this Russian movie…”

“We should begin with discussion.” Ilya interrupted, his voice calm and businesslike. “There are some things I want to introduce before we continue.”

“Oh.” Shane was confused. “Sure. Okay.”

Ilya walked into the living room and sat in an armchair, not the couch they usually shared. Shane slowly sat on the couch opposite. The distance felt like miles.

Ilya looked tense. “You have payment?” he asked bluntly.

Shane felt sick. He had the cash, he always did, even when Ilya had refused it. He reached for his wallet on the coffee table and pulled out the notes and held them out. Ilya reached for the money without hesitation and put it in his own wallet.

“Thank you.” he said flatly. Shane nodded in acknowledgment, he wanted to ask again if everything was ok, but he’d already said it was. Ilya had said they would go back to their old pattern, but Shane hadn’t realized this is what he meant. He’d thought it was the old pattern of movies, spending the night, messaging each other about things not related to arranging sessions. It gave Shane a hollow feeling in his chest.

Ilya leaned forward, his forearms resting on his thighs. Shane’s eye was drawn to the cross on his necklace that fell forward and dangled with the movement.

“As we are moving away from more basic things, and exploring more, we need a better way to communicate during scenes. Saying “stop” can be enough, but sometimes people don’t want to stop completely. They may want to change something or just take a moment.” Ilya was talking to him the same way he had back in the club that first time. Guiding, instructing, it wasn’t cold or unfeeling, but still Shane felt the lack of the warmth he had begun to grow used to.

“Okay. So what does that mean?” he asked, taking in a breath and trying to control his growing anxiety.

“Is like traffic lights, yes? Green means go, carry on, you are happy and comfortable to continue. Yellow means something needs to change. Maybe slow down, or be softer, or just take some time to breathe before continuing. Red, everything stops, no questions until you are safe and released from any restraints. Then we talk. Understand?”

Shane swallowed and nodded.

“I need to hear it from you, Shane.” Ilya’s gaze was intense and focused.

“Yes, I understand. Green is good to go. Yellow if I need to change or pause. Red it all stops.”

“Good boy.” Ilya’s expression didn’t change, no soft smile or even a wink. “You use these words at any time, any reason. Does not matter if it is physical or emotional. This is your power, you do not need to justify using them.”

Shane had to ask. “Have I done something wrong?”

For the briefest moment there was a flash of something in Ilya’s eyes. It vanished so quickly Shane wondered if he imagined it.

“No, this is normal progression. To keep you safe and happy.” Ilya’s jaw was tight, Shane noticed.

“Oh.”

“I will ask you color, you answer honestly. Remember what we said about trust. Do not say green because you think it will please me. If is not honest, I will not be pleased.”

Shane’s breath shuddered as he looked down at the dangling cross again. “Of course, always honest.”

Ilya nodded slightly, his eyes still fixed intensely on Shane. “One more thing. During the scene it is better if you call me Sir or Master. You choose.”

Shane’s mouth opened but no words came out. His thoughts followed each other too quickly and he couldn’t make sense of them. Just days ago Ilya had seemed so happy when Shane used his first name.

“Is better to focus, for both of us.” Ilya added as if reading Shane’s jumbled mind.

Shane nodded and let out a shaky breath. “OK. Sir.”

He thought he saw that flash of something in Ilya’s eyes again, but then it was gone. Ilya stood and opened his bag. He removed two padded leather cuffs and placed them on the coffee table. Then some soft black rope, a blindfold and a small leather paddle.

Shane’s cock twitched despite the anxiety swirling in his chest.

“Your contract said you are curious about light bondage, yes? Is this still true?” Ilya asked.

Almost as if he was asking if the sky was still blue.

Shane nodded.

“Also impact play. No whips of course, but spanking and light paddling, also curious still?” Ilya’s eyebrow raised and Shane couldn’t help thinking he loved it when it did that.

“Yes.” Shane’s voice shook. He wasn’t entirely sure if it was from nerves or desire. Ilya picked up the paddle. It was flat, made out of black leather and about the size of his forearm. Ilya struck it gently against his own palm. Shane jumped at the sound. Ilya’s lips threatened to curve, but didn’t quite make it.

“This it not designed for severe pain. It will sting, may leave some redness but does not break skin. It should not leave lasting marks if used correctly. I only use on areas covered by clothes. I will check skin before I leave to be sure. You tell me immediately if anything feels wrong.”

Shane nodded again.

“What is your color right now?”

“Green.” Shane answered, hoping it would mean an end to this torturous conversation.
He got his wish.

“Good. OK, go to bedroom, undress and kneel beside bed. Hands on thighs. I will join you when ready.”

The command felt like a balm on his chaotic mind, quieting his confusion and giving him something simple to do. Shane stood and headed to the bedroom.

*******

The first strike was barely more than a tap.

Shane was naked and lying across Ilya’s lap,Ilya’s feet planted on the floor and Shane’s chest supported by the mattress. Ilya’s broad thigh pressed under his hips, lifting Shane’s ass higher.

Ilya’s warm palm rubbed over Shane’s ass.

“Color?” Ilya asked, his voice deep and commanding.

“Green.”

The paddle landed harder this time. Shane flinched. It didn’t hurt so much as it felt like a sharp burst of heat that disappeared as quickly as it came, but left his skin tingling.

Ilya’s hand followed again, massaging the spot. Shane was feeling much more comfortable now.

“Again?” Ilya asked as he massaged.

“Yes, please.”

Ilya struck the other cheek and Shane sucked in a breath. The warm and soothing hand followed again. Shane let his forehead rest against the bed.

It was unexpected. He had imagined spanking before, but thought Ilya would be more brutal than this. Shane would be tied down and helpless in his fantasies, with Ilya taunting him while he begged. This reality was careful, controlled, every strike measured, every touch offering reassurance and comfort. He could tell Ilya was watching his every little movement, his breathing, his position, every little twitch of his muscles.

It was still hot as fuck.

The next strike made Shane’s cock jerk against Ilya’s leg. Of course he noticed.

“Interesting.” Ilya murmured, with the slightest hint of his usual amusement. Shane felt embarrassingly grateful for it.

“You like this, Kotenok?”

The endearment made Shane’s stomach flutter. This was better.

“Yes.” he gasped.

The paddle landed harder and Shane groaned as heat spread across his skin, sharper now. Ilya’s warm palm immediately soothed it, rubbing in slow circles.

“Color.”

“Green.” Yes, he definitely wanted more.

Another strike. Then another. Shane’s breathing became heavier. His hard cock rubbed against the rough material of Ilya’s jeans, making him ache.

“Count, Kotenok.” Ilya instructed, sharpening Shane’s focus.

The paddle cracked against him.

“One.”

And Again.

“Two.”

This time Ilya hit harder, making Shane’s body jerk in response.

“Three. Fuck!”

Ilya’s fingers pressed into his flesh as he rubbed.

“Color.”

“Green.”

Another sharp thwack.

“F…four.”

“Does it feel good, Kotenok?” Ilya asked as he rubbed the area a little more firmly.

“Yes.” Shane answered, his forehead pressing into the mattress.

“What does nice Canadian boy say when someone makes him feel good?”

“Thank you?” Shane answered, a little unsure.

“Thank you what, Kotenok?”

Shane hesitated and looked back. Their eyes locked. Ilya’s face was composed, waiting.

“Thank you, Sir.”

Shane felt something change within Ilya. His pupils darkened and his fingers tightened against Shane’s ass.

“Good boy.”

The praise went straight to Shane’s cock, which was now desperately seeking the friction of the denim of Ilya’s jeans.

Ilya continued, slowly building the intensity, never striking the same place twice in a row and always following the sting of the paddle with the warmth of his hand. Shane counted each blow, his voice becoming shakier as the heat spread across his ass and thighs.

At ten, Ilya placed the paddle aside.

Shane was panting, his cock trapped between his body and Ilya’s leg, leaking against the black denim. Ilya ran both hands across Shane’s ass, examining the color and temperature of his skin.

“This is very pretty, Kotenok. How do you feel?” Ilya’s voice is still low but softer now.

“Amazing.” Shane almost laughed.

“Any sharp pain, numbness?”

“No, feels great.” Shane answered honestly.

“Color?”

“Green. Very fucking green.” Shane answered quickly.

That earned him a low chuckle, but it was gone almost immediately.

Ilya shifted Shane off his lap and helped him stand. Shane’s legs felt weak. Ilya cupped his jaw.

“Look at me.” he instructed.

Shane obeyed. Maybe he would finally get a kiss?

“You did well, Kotenok.” Ilya spoke again with that intensity that made Shane’s cock twitch. “I am going to restrain your wrists to the bed. You will be able to move your arms but not reach me. Remember your colors?”

Shane nodded. “Yes, I remember.”

Ilya carefully fastened the cuffs onto Shane’s wrists. “Do not pull hard against these, you may hurt yourself. Do not fight them.”

Shane’s cock twitched. Again.

“I won’t.” he murmured, swallowing.

Ilya kissed him, finally. Shane melted into the kiss, opening his mouth and pressing closer. His hands rose to Ilya’s neck, desperate for the contact he’d been missing.

Ilya ended the kiss too soon.

“On the bed, face up.” Ilya commanded.

Shane climbed onto the mattress and lay back. Ilya carefully guided Shane’s arms above his head and attached the cuffs to a short strap looped around the wooden slats of the headboard. He tested each cuff, sliding two fingers beneath the leather, checking Shane’s circulation.

Ilya’s eyes were back on Shane’s. “Pull gently.” he commanded and Shane obeyed. The cuffs held him securely, he could move his hands a little but not past the top of his head. His heart was racing. Ilya looked down at him, powerful and still fully dressed while Shane was naked, exposed and restrained.

“Color.” Ilya checked.

“Green.”

Ilya ran one finger from Shane’s throat down the center of his chest. He circled one nipple before pinching it. Shane hissed. Ilya watched him closely and increased the pressure.

“Still green?”

“Yes.” Ilya was touching him, he never wanted that to stop.

He released the nipple and bent to suck it into his mouth. Shane arched violently. The cuffs pulled against his wrists, holding him in place. Ilya’s tongue swirled over the sensitive flesh before his teeth scraped lightly across it.

“F…F…Fuck!” Shane stuttered as his whole body started to tingle.

Ilya moved to the other nipple, giving it the same attention. Shane’s hips lifted, desperately seeking friction that wasn’t there. Every instinct told him to touch Ilya. To grasp those curls, pull him closer and wrap his legs around him. But he couldn’t. He had to accept whatever Ilya chose to give him. The helplessness was terrifying for a moment. Then Ilya’s hand wrapped firmly around his cock.

The fear disappeared.

Shane moaned and pulled against the cuffs again. “Do not fight them.” Ilya reminded him.

“Then touch me.” Shane begged.

“I am touching you.” Ilya softly chuckled.

“More.” Shane moaned the word, desperate for more.

Ilya lifted his head, one eyebrow raised. “You are very demanding for someone tied to bed.”

“You like it.”

“I do.”

There was the Ilya Shane knew. The arrogant curve of his mouth, the confidence, the warmth buried beneath the teasing. Shane smiled.

Ilya stroked him slowly, his fist moving from base to tip before twisting across the head. Shane’s hips lifted to follow every movement. Ilya released him. Shane whimpered.

“Patience, Kotenok.” Ilya stood and slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

Shane watched every inch of skin revealed. The broad chest, defined stomach and the narrow trail of dark-blond hair disappearing into his jeans.

When Ilya pushed the shirt from his shoulders, Shane groaned.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Ilya paused. For one heartbeat the mask fell. His eyes softened and his lips parted as though he wanted to say something. Then he looked down and began unfastening his jeans.

“You are here for pleasure, not conversation.” His voice was deep again.

The words landed harder than the paddle ever had. Shane looked away.

Ilya removed the rest of his clothes and returned to the bed. He crawled between Shane’s spread legs, his cock thick and hard against his stomach. Shane wanted to reach for him, but the cuffs stopped him. Ilya ran his hands along Shane’s thighs and pushed them apart.

“Color?”

Shane swallowed the strange ache. “Green.”

Ilya lowered his head and took Shane’s cock into his mouth. Any coherent thought vanished.

Shane cried out and arched from the bed, the restraints making every sensation feel more intense. Ilya’s mouth was hot and wet, his tongue pressing against the underside of Shane’s cock as he took him deeper.

“Jesus, Ilya. Sir!”

Ilya hummed around him.

Shane’s fingers, desperate to feel the softness of Ilya’s hair, curled uselessly above his head. He pulled at the cuffs before remembering the warning and forcing himself to relax.

Ilya’s hands gripped his hips, holding him still while his mouth moved with slow, deliberate skill. He took Shane deep, his nose brushing the hair at the base before drawing back and circling the head expertly with his tongue. His eyes stayed on Shane’s throughout.

Shane was already close. It had been too long since he had touched himself. Partly because he knew Ilya would be coming, but mostly because every attempt had left him feeling empty and frustrated.

Nothing compared to this.

Nothing compared to Ilya.

“I’m gonna come.” he warned.

Ilya immediately lifted his head and Shane groaned in distress.

“No. Please.”

“You will wait.” Ilya commanded.

“I don’t think I can.” Shane begged, he was so overwhelmed right now.

“You can.” Ilya winked before stroking a hand over Shane’s stomach, soothing him until his breathing slowed. Then he reached for the bag at the side of the bed and retrieved the lube.

He knelt between Shane’s legs and drizzled some onto his fingers.

Shane watched him, anticipation pulsing through his body.

Ilya lifted one of Shane’s legs over his shoulder, then the other, leaving Shane completely open to him.

He pressed one slick finger against Shane’s hole.

“Color?”

“Green.”

The finger pushed inside. Shane released a long moan, his muscles fluttering around the intrusion. Ilya’s other hand rested against his thigh, holding him open while he worked the finger deeper. He twisted it slowly and brushed against Shane’s prostate. Shane’s vision flashed white.

“Fuck!”

Ilya did it again. Shane jerked against the restraints and felt the heat in his ass where the paddle had landed. The combination was almost unbearable.

“So responsive,” Ilya said, watching Shane’s face. “You enjoy being helpless for me.”

“Yes.”

“You enjoy that I decide when you come.” Fuck yes, he didn’t want to admit it but fuck yes.

“Yes.”

A second finger pushed inside.

Shane gasped and tried to spread his legs further, but Ilya held them securely on his shoulders. Ilya scissored his fingers, stretching him gradually. Shane couldn’t look away. Ilya’s eyes were focused between his legs, his expression serious and concentrated.

Professional.

The word intruded again. Shane pushed it away.

This was Ilya. He knew Shane’s body. He knew exactly how to touch him, how to make the noise disappear. Ilya curled his fingers and pressed against Shane’s prostate again.

Shane cried out, his body convulsing.

“Color?”

“Green. Green, fuck, don’t stop.”

Ilya chuckled and added a third finger. “My needy Kotenok.” he murmured.

The stretch burned briefly before becoming pleasure. Shane breathed through it, focusing on Ilya’s face. He wanted Ilya to look at him.

“Please look at me.” he begged.

Ilya’s eyes lifted. Shane’s heart stuttered. There he was. The man behind the role.

For a few moments they simply stared at each other while Ilya’s fingers moved inside him. Shane felt exposed in a way that had nothing to do with being naked or restrained.

He thought Ilya felt it too. Then Ilya looked away, removed his fingers and reached for a condom. The loss of contact made Shane shiver. He watched Ilya tear open the packet and roll the condom over his cock, then cover it with lube. Ilya moved closer, guiding the thick head against Shane’s entrance.

“Color?”

“Green.”

Ilya pressed forward. Shane’s mouth opened in a silent gasp as his body stretched around him. The entry was slow and controlled, Ilya pausing whenever Shane’s muscles tightened.

“Breathe, Kotenok.”

Shane dragged in a breath. Ilya moved deeper. The heat across Shane’s ass intensified where their bodies met. His wrists strained against the cuffs and his legs trembled over Ilya’s shoulders.

“Fuck, Ilya.”

“Who?”

“Sir, sorry, Sir.” Shane didn’t know what he was saying anymore.

With one final push, Ilya was fully inside him. Shane’s eyes closed. His whole body felt filled, pinned and owned. The cuffs held his arms, Ilya held his legs, and the weight of the Russian’s body pressed him into the mattress. This was what he had wanted. Complete surrender.

Ilya remained still, giving him time to adjust.

“Color?”

“Green.”

Ilya drew back and thrust forward.

Shane cried out.

The angle was deep, each thrust striking through him. Ilya began slowly, keeping his movements steady while watching Shane for any sign of distress.

Shane pulled at the cuffs, desperate to touch him.

“Ilya. Sir, please.”

“What do you need?”

“You. Closer.”

Ilya leaned forward, pushing Shane’s legs back until his knees were close to his chest. His body covered Shane’s and their mouths met. The kiss was hungry and rough, nothing professional about it. Shane tasted need on Ilya’s tongue and felt the control in his movements begin to slip. Ilya’s thrusts grew harder.

Shane moaned into his mouth, unable to do anything but take it. The bed shifted beneath them. The strap attaching his cuffs to the headboard pulled tight. Ilya’s hand slid between their bodies and wrapped around Shane’s cock.

“Do you want to come, Kotenok?”

“Yes.”

“You will ask properly.”

“Please let me come.”

Ilya thrust harder.

“Again.”

“Please, Sir. Please let me come.”

The hand around Shane’s cock moved faster. Ilya’s hips drove into him with enough force to make the heat from the paddle bloom again. Pain and pleasure twisted together, dragging Shane towards the edge.

“You are mine for this moment,” Ilya growled against his mouth. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“My good boy. My Kotenok.”

Shane broke. His body tightened violently as he came between them, crying Ilya’s name. The pleasure seemed endless, each pulse made stronger by the thrusts continuing inside him. Ilya groaned and buried his face against Shane’s neck. His rhythm became frantic, losing its controlled precision.

“Shane.” Ilya gasped.

Hearing his own name in Ilya’s broken voice sent another tremor through him. Ilya thrust deep and came. For several moments neither of them moved. Ilya’s weight covered Shane, their skin slick with sweat, both of them struggling to breathe. Shane’s restrained hands rested above his head, his fingers still curled around nothing. He waited for Ilya to release him.

Instead Ilya lifted his body almost immediately. The loss of warmth was sudden. Ilya withdrew carefully, tied off the condom and disposed of it in the bathroom bin. He returned with a warm cloth and a glass of water, cleaned Shane efficiently and then unfastened the strap holding his cuffs.

He removed each cuff carefully and examined Shane’s wrists.

“No numbness?”

“No.”

“Tingling?”

“A little.” Shane was floating, waiting, hoping to be pulled into Ilya’s arms, to feel his heart beat against his cheek.

Ilya massaged each wrist until Shane’s fingers felt completely normal again. He checked Shane’s ass, pressing gently across each reddened area. “This will fade quickly. You may be tender tomorrow.”

Shane watched him. Ilya was avoiding his gaze.

“Are you staying?” he asked, fearful for the answer but needing to know.

Ilya’s hands stopped for a moment. “No. I have work.”

“At the club?”

“Yes.”

What had happened to no other plans on Saturday nights? Shane silently wondered.

“You don’t have to go yet. We could eat. The food’s probably cold but we could heat it up. Or watch something.”

Ilya reached for his jeans. “The session is complete.”

Shane felt something crack inside his chest. “Right.”

Ilya dressed quickly. He brought Shane more water and placed a blanket over him, making sure he was warm and comfortable. Going through the motions, Shane thought, his heart aching.

“I will message tomorrow to check your wrists and skin,” Ilya said.

“Okay.” Shane fought to keep his feelings hidden, it was clear this would be the way forward. This was all he could have from this man.

“Rest tonight.” Ilya said softly.

“Sure.” Shane avoided Ilya’s gaze now, but Ilya lifted Shane’s chin and kissed him softly. Shane’s eyes closed, trying to hold onto it. The kiss lasted only a few seconds before Ilya picked up his bag, and left.

Shane lay in the bed listening to the silence of his apartment.

His body felt incredible.

His heart hurt like hell.

****

It continued that way for the next four Saturdays. Ilya arrived at ten and left before one am. Each time he took payment, introduced something new, always explaining patiently to ensure Shane understood any risks.

The second week, he had tied Shane’s wrists with soft rope and taught him how to test for circulation. He had shown Shane how to breathe through the initial panic of being unable to move freely. The third week, he used the paddle again and showed Shane the difference between a strike intended to sting and one designed to create a deeper ache. He never left a mark where it might be seen at practice. The fourth week, he blindfolded Shane and made him identify different sensations: the scratch of fingernails, the cool slide of metal, the softness of a feather, the warmth of Ilya’s tongue.

It was all incredible. Shane discovered things about himself he hadn’t known. He learned he liked restraint more than he expected. He liked the moment of fear before remembering he was safe. He liked Ilya’s control, the certainty in his commands and the freedom of having no decisions to make.

He liked the paddle.

He liked being made to wait.

He liked hearing that he was good.

He hated everything that happened afterwards.

Ilya no longer stayed to eat. He no longer suggested movies. He never sat with Shane on the couch unless they were discussing the scene.

Even their messages became painfully formal.

Lily: Saturday 10pm?

Jane: Yes.

Lily: Any marks or pain from last week?

Jane: No. Everything’s fine.

Lily: Good. See you Saturday.

Shane tried to start other conversations.

Jane: How is Sveta?

Lily: She is well, thank you.

Jane: Are you working tonight?

Lily: Yes.

Jane: I hope you have a good night.

Sometimes Ilya didn’t reply at all.

At first Shane tried to convince himself it was temporary. Ilya was busy, Sveta still needed him, work was demanding. Until it became impossible to deny that Ilya was deliberately keeping him at a distance. The sessions felt more intimate than ever, but Ilya himself felt further away.

Shane became increasingly distracted. At practice he made mistakes he would normally never make. Passes went wide. His reaction time slowed. The coach shouted at him twice in one week. Thankfully, he was still playing well during games, almost out of habit. When he stepped onto the ice, his body knew what to do even when his mind was a disaster. The rest of the time, all he could think about was Saturday.

He would spend the entire week wanting Ilya, yet fearing what would happen when he arrived. Then Saturday would come, and Shane would spend three hours being touched by the man without ever feeling close to him.

It was hell.

******

The fifth Saturday Shane didn’t order food. He didn’t choose a movie. He didn’t even fluff cushions. He left the apartment exactly as it was.

When the buzzer sounded, he waited several seconds before answering. Ilya was dressed in black again. His work bag hung from one hand.

“Good evening, Shane.”

“Hey.” Shane didn’t even smile anymore.

Ilya entered and removed his shoes. Shane watched him. “Do you ever come here as yourself anymore?”

Ilya’s shoulders tensed. “I do not understand.”

“Yes, you do.”

Ilya turned to face him. His expression remained neutral. “Are you saying you do not want session tonight?”

Shane’s heart pounded. He should say yes. He should tell Ilya to leave, because every week this arrangement hurt more.

Instead he shook his head. “No. I want it.”

Ilya studied him for a moment. “You are certain?”

“Yes.” Even this was better than nothing at all from Ilya, he thought.

“Payment?” Shane handed over the cash and Ilya put it in his wallet.

“What would you like tonight?” Ilya asked.

“I don’t know.” He guessed asking for some tenderness, some inkling that he was more than a client to Ilya, would not go down well.

“You have been curious about restraint while kneeling. We could explore this. I would bind your wrists behind your back and use the paddle. We would keep it light.” Ilya spoke in the matter-of-fact tone Shane was now getting used to.

“Fine.” he answered flatly.

Ilya frowned. “Fine is not green.”

Shane took a breath. “Green.”

“Kotenok, are you angry with me?” Ilya’s eyes were searching Shane’s.

“No.” It was a lie.

Ilya raised an eyebrow making it clear he knew it was a lie, but he didn’t challenge him.

“Go to the bedroom. Undress and kneel at the end of the bed.”

Shane followed the instructions.

He removed his clothes, folded them automatically and placed them on the chair. Then he knelt on the padded rug beside the bed, sitting back on his heels with his hands resting on his thighs.

The position usually calmed him. Tonight it didn’t. He could hear Ilya moving through the apartment. The soft sounds of the bag opening. The click of buckles. Water running briefly in the kitchen.

Every second stretched. When Ilya entered the bedroom, Shane kept his eyes lowered. Ilya circled him slowly.

“You remember your colors?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me.”

“Green means continue. Yellow means slow down or change something. Red means stop everything.”

“Good, Kotenok.”

Ilya touched the top of Shane’s head. The familiar gesture almost broke him. Shane closed his eyes. Ilya’s fingers moved gently through his hair, then disappeared.

“Hands behind your back.” Shane obeyed.

Ilya secured padded cuffs around his wrists and connected them with a short leather strap. Shane tested the restraint. There was some movement but he couldn’t separate his hands.

“Comfortable?” Ilya’s tone had softened a little but there was still that edge of professionalism that Shane had come to hate.

“Yes.”

Ilya placed two fingers beneath each cuff. A small part of Shane was relieved Ilya cared enough to carry out this check. Then he hated himself for even thinking it, of course he would.

“Color?”

“Green.”

Ilya’s hand rested against the back of Shane’s neck.

“Bend forward.”

Shane leaned forward until his chest rested against the mattress, his knees remaining on the rug. His ass was raised and exposed, his bound hands resting against the small of his back.

Ilya stroked a hand down Shane’s spine. His touch was warm. Careful. Impersonal. Shane clenched his jaw.

The paddle tapped lightly against his left cheek. “Ten strikes. You will count. We will begin gently.”

The first strike landed.

“One.”

Another.

“Two.”

The third was harder.

“Three.”

Ilya’s palm rubbed over the sting. Shane closed his eyes and tried to surrender to it. The fourth strike landed.

“Four.”

It wasn’t working. His mind wasn’t quieting. Every touch made him think of all the touches he wasn’t allowed to have now. Every careful question reminded him that Ilya was following a script. The fifth strike landed.

“Five.”

“Color?”

“Green.”

Ilya rubbed his skin again. The sixth strike was sharper.

“Six.”

Shane felt tears sting his eyes. It didn’t hurt enough to cry. That wasn’t why he was crying. Ilya’s hand stroked across his ass and down the back of his thigh.

“You are tense. Breathe.”

Shane tried. The seventh strike landed.

“Seven.”

Ilya paused.

“Color?”

Shane swallowed. “Yellow.”

The paddle was immediately placed on the bed and Ilya crouched beside him. “What needs to change?”

“I don’t know.” Shane’s tears dropped onto the comforter.

“Is it pain?” Ilya’s voice was controlled, but more concerned.

“No.”

“Position?”

“No.” Fuck, he couldn’t do this.

“Do you want restraints removed?” Ilya reached out to touch them. Shane moved his hands away.

Shane stared at the mattress. “No.”

Ilya’s hand rubbed slowly over his back. “Do you want to stop?”

“No.”

“What do you need?” Yes, that was the question wasn’t it? What did he NEED?

Ilya.

The real Ilya.

“I don’t know.” he whimpered. Ilya remained quiet for a moment.

“We can stay here. There is no rush.” His tone was gentle but controlled. That awful professional calm. Shane felt his chest tighten.

“I’m okay. Keep going.” He steeled himself, he was being ridiculous.

“Are you green?” Ilya seemed unsure.

“Yes.”

“Shane.”

“Green.”

Ilya stood again, then picked up the paddle. The eighth strike landed more gently than the others.

“Eight,” Shane whispered as Ilya’s hand followed the paddle.

“You are doing well.” The words should have pleased him. Instead they made Shane feel hollow. The ninth strike landed.

“Nine.”

He couldn’t breathe properly. Ilya’s hand rested against the back of his neck again.

“One more.”

The paddle landed.

“Ten.”

“Good boy.”

Shane sobbed. Ilya froze. The paddle hit the bed as it fell from his hand.

“Color?”

Shane tried to breathe. Tried to force the emotions back down. Tried to be good, because being good was the only thing he had ever known how to do. Ilya’s hand moved towards his shoulder.

“Shane, color?”

“Red.”

Everything stopped. Ilya moved instantly.

“Okay. It is over.”

His voice changed. The cool authority disappeared. Ilya dropped to his knees behind Shane and unfastened the strap between his wrists. He removed each cuff and gently guided Shane upright. Shane couldn’t stop crying.

His arms were pulled around Ilya’s neck and he was lifted onto the bed. Ilya wrapped a blanket around him before sitting beside him, keeping his hands visible and not touching until Shane reached for him.

“Are you hurt?” Ilya asked. His voice shook despite his efforts to control it. “Tell me where.”

Shane shook his head.

“Is there numbness? Pain in your shoulders?” Ilya’s eyes were scanning his whole body trying to understand.

“No.” Shane whispered between sobs.

“Your wrists?” Ilya was growing more confused and more concerned.

“They’re fine.” Shane hated himself right now, he was being a baby.

“Then what happened? Did I frighten you?” Ilya asked and Shane wanted to tell him he’d been frightened this whole month.

“No.”

Ilya’s eyes were wide and terrified.

“I can’t do this anymore.” Shane admitted.

Ilya became completely still, still looking at Shane but his shoulders lowered.

“Okay.” Ilya’s expression closed.

Shane saw the moment he misunderstood. “I don’t mean the BDSM. I don’t mean the sex.”

Ilya’s gaze snapped back to him confused.

“I mean this.” Shane gestured helplessly between them. “Whatever you’ve been doing for the last month. Showing up like I’m a fucking appointment. Taking the money, fucking me and leaving.”

Ilya looked away.

Shane’s voice cracked. “You don’t talk to me anymore. You don’t tell me anything. You don’t stay. You barely even answer my messages.”

“This is how arrangement was supposed to be.” Ilya still faced away, his voice seemed smaller somehow.

“Well, it isn’t how it was.” Finally getting this off his chest was calming Shane.

“It became inappropriate.”

“Why?”

Ilya stood suddenly. He walked towards the window with both hands on his hips, his back to Shane. Shane clutched the blanket around himself.

“Look at me.” He begged. Ilya didn’t. “Please.” Ilya’s head dropped. Shane’s tears continued to fall. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I’m sorry if I expected too much, but I need you to tell me. Was it because you stayed? Because I asked you to? Because I said I missed you?”

“No. It was nothing you did, Shane.” Ilya’s voice was shaky.

“Then what?” He needed to understand.

“I am protecting you.” Ilya pressed his forehead against the window.

“From what?”

“Me!” Ilya spun around. His eyes were full of tears and his face twisted with pain.

Shane stared at him, stunned.

Ilya struck his own chest with the heel of his hand. “From me, Shane. From this. From what I want.”

“What do you want?” Shane was determined now to get the answers he needed.
Ilya shook his head.

“Tell me.” Shane demanded.

“I cannot.” Ilya huffed as he tried to control his own tears.

“Why?”

“Because you have already told me!” Ilya shouted. “You told me what would happen if people knew. Your teammates, your career, your sponsors, your family. Everything you have worked for. You are frightened and you have good reason.”

Shane paused to take that in. “What does that have to do with you acting like you hate me?”

“I do not hate you!” Ilya stepped towards Shane, stopped himself.

“Then what?”

Ilya’s chest rose and fell rapidly. Shane climbed off the bed, keeping the blanket wrapped around him.

Shane moved towards Ilya. “What are you protecting me from?”

Ilya backed away. “Don’t.”

“Why?”

Ilya’s hands were held up in front of him. “Because I cannot think when you are close.”

Shane stopped. The words hung between them. Ilya wiped angrily at his eyes.

“I tried to walk away. Sveta told me I should. I knew she was right, but I could not do it. I imagined you alone again. Going back into your perfect little box and locking yourself inside. I could not leave you there, Kotenok.” He sounded pitiful.

“You didn’t leave. You just made sure I knew I meant nothing to you.” Shane said with a frown.

Ilya looked up at Shane with an incredulous look on his face. “Don’t you see, Shane? You mean everything!”

The confession echoed through the room. Ilya covered his face with both hands. Shane’s breath caught. Ilya lowered his hands slowly. There was no mask left. No professional calm. He looked young, frightened and completely broken.

“You mean everything,” he repeated quietly. “This is the problem.”

Shane stepped closer. Ilya didn’t back away this time.

“I don’t understand.” Shane whispered.

“I do not see you as just client, I never have. You are special, more, so much more.”

Shane stopped breathing. Ilya looked towards the ceiling as tears rolled down his cheeks.

“I lie awake at night thinking about your stupid perfect apartment and the way you fold everything. I think about your freckles and how you are so kind and polite even when my cock is in your mouth. I think about you playing hockey and how incredible you look on the ice. I think about how you make children happy and pretend you do not notice. I think about how brave you are when you think you are a coward.”

Shane’s lips parted but no words came. Ilya continued, as though now he had started he couldn’t stop.

“I think about how you held me when I cried. Nobody has held me like that since my Mama died. You did not ask for anything. You did not try to make me stop. You just let me be broken.”

His voice failed. Shane closed the remaining distance and took Ilya’s face between both hands. Ilya leaned into the touch despite himself.

“That night,” Shane said, “you called me something in Russian.”

Ilya’s eyes widened slightly.

“Moy lyubimyj.” The pronunciation was clumsy but it was clear enough what he said. Ilya closed his eyes.

“I looked it up.” Shane said shyly.

“Of course you did.” Ilya couldn’t help a small grin.

“It means my beloved?” Shane asked, even though he knew.

“Yes.” Ilya reached up to stroke Shane’s cheek.

“You meant it?”

Ilya nodded. Shane laughed through his tears.

“Why are you laughing?” Ilya was confused.

“Because you’re a fucking idiot.”

Ilya’s eyes blinked. “Excuse me?”

Shane was still laughing, slightly deliriously. “You spent a month making both of us miserable because you decided I needed protection from exactly what I wanted. What I needed.”

Ilya argued, “You do not understand the risk.”

“I understand it better than anyone.” Shane retorted. Of course he did.

“You could lose everything.”

“I know.”

“I cannot be the reason.” Ilya’s shoulders sank and he started to turn from Shane. Shane pulled him back to face him.

“You’re not.” he told him firmly.

“How can you say this?”

“Because I feel the same, idiot!”

Ilya stared at him. Shane felt suddenly terrified.

The words were out. He couldn’t take them back. He couldn’t put them back in the box.
He didn’t want to.

“I think about you all the time as well.” Shane repeated. “I’ve been thinking about you since the first night I saw you at the club. Even more so since you found me outside Secrets and stopped me from doing something stupid.”

Ilya’s eyes searched his face, almost suspicious. Shane stroked his thumbs across Ilya’s wet cheeks.

“I tried to tell myself you were just helping me. That this was sex and I was getting attached because you were my first. But then you disappeared, and I didn’t care about the sex. I just needed to know you were safe.”

“Shane.” No, Shane wasn’t letting Ilya stop him now.

“I went back to that club knowing exactly what could happen if someone saw me. I still went, because the idea that something had happened to you was worse.”

Ilya made a broken sound, then pulled Shane into his arms. The force of the embrace knocked the blanket loose, but Shane didn’t care. He wrapped his arms around Ilya and held him just as tightly. Ilya buried his face against Shane’s neck.

“My Kotenok.”

Shane laughed and cried at the same time. “There you are.”

“I am sorry.” Ilya sobbed.

“I know.” Shane soothed, his fingers finally in Ilya’s curls.

“I hurt you. I never ever wanted to hurt you.” Ilya mumbled against Shane’s neck.

“I know.” Shane’s eyes closed and felt himself breathe for the first time in a month.

“I thought it would be easier if I made myself be Master again.” Ilya tried to explain.

“It wasn’t.” Shane confessed and Ilya nodded against his neck.

“No.” Ilya kissed Shane’s neck. “It was terrible.”

Shane pulled him close again. “You were so fucking cold.”

“I had to be. If I was soft, I would stay. If I stayed, I would tell you. If I told you, you might say this.” Ilya sighed heavily.

“That sounds like a good outcome.” Shane grinned.

“You do not listen.”

Shane pulled back enough to look into his eyes. “I know we can’t just go out to dinner and hold hands in public. I know I can’t tell my teammates or the press. I know it’s complicated.”

“Complicated is not strong enough word.” Ilya shrugged.

“Fine. It’s a complete fucking disaster.” Shane grinned.

Ilya’s mouth twitched.

Shane held Ilya’s hands. “But it’s our disaster.”

“You make it sound romantic.” Ilya was struggling to hold back the grin tugging at his lips.

“I’m trying.”

“You are not very good at it.” Ilya jibed.

“Fuck you.”

Ilya smiled properly. It was the first real smile Shane had seen in weeks. Shane kissed him. There was no command. No role. No arrangement. Ilya’s lips opened beneath his and his hands slid around Shane’s bare back, pulling him closer. The kiss tasted of tears and relief. When they finally separated, Ilya rested his forehead against Shane’s.

“What happens now?” Shane asked.

“I do not know. I must give you your money back.”

“You don’t need to. ”

Ilya sighed. “Shane.”

“OK, let’s just say that was the last payment.” Shane grinned.

“You pay me for service. Tonight I did not deliver.”

“Ilya. ”

“I take pride in my work.”

“You’re very good.”

“I know.”

“But it is not work with me, anymore. Agreed?” Shane checked.

Ilya looked conflicted.

“I can still tie you up?”

“Definitely.”

“And paddle?”

“Also definitely.”

“Call you good boy?”

Shane felt warmth rush into his face. “Yes.”

Ilya grinned. “So it will be much the same, except free.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“You like this asshole.”

“I do.”

The words felt strange and enormous. Ilya’s grin softened.

“I like you too.”

They stood quietly, holding each other in the middle of the bedroom. Ilya reached down and pulled the blanket from the floor, wrapping it around Shane again.

“You are cold.” He pulled Shane into him.

“I’m not.” Shane weakly protested.

“You are shivering.” Ilya rubbed his hand up and down Shane’s back.

“I just confessed my feelings for someone for the first time. I’m allowed to shiver.”

Ilya kissed his forehead. “You also used red for the first time.”

Shane’s smile faded slightly. “Was that okay?”

Ilya pulled back, his expression suddenly serious.

“It was more than okay. It was perfect.”

“Perfect?”

“You knew something was wrong. You trusted me to stop. You said word clearly even though you were upset. That is exactly what it is for.”

Shane frowned. “I wasn’t physically hurt.”

“It does not matter. You were emotionally hurt. Hurt is hurt. Red is red.”

Shane nodded and Ilya cupped his cheek.

“I will always stop.”

“I know. I trust you.”

“And if we continue BDSM, we keep colors. We keep all safety rules.”

“Of course.”

“Good.”

Ilya kissed him again, softly this time. Shane leaned against him.

“You’ll stay tonight?” He asked carefully.

“Yes. I always wanted to stay, I never went to work after.” Ilya confessed.

Shane smiled and nuzzled into his neck. “And watch a movie?”

“Yes, Kotenok. I will watch your terrible movies.”

Shane laughed. The sound felt unfamiliar after so many weeks of misery, but it filled the room and seemed to loosen something inside both of them. Ilya gathered his clothes but didn’t put them on. Shane pulled on his robe, and they walked into the living room together. There was no food waiting this week and no movies laid out. Ilya noticed.

“You did not expect me to stay.”

“No.” Shane chewed his lip. Pain crossed Ilya’s face again. Shane took his hand.

“But you are.” he smiled.

“Yes.”

They found a movie on television neither of them had seen. Ilya ordered pizza while Shane curled against him on the couch. The movie played, mostly ignored. Shane rested his head on Ilya’s chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Ilya’s fingers moved slowly through his hair and across his skin.

“What does this make us?” Shane asked.

Ilya considered it. “Idiots.”

“I mean, are you my boyfriend?”

Ilya’s fingers stopped. The word sounded almost childish compared to everything between them, but Shane needed something. A name. A promise.

“I would like to be,” Ilya said carefully.

“So would I.” Shane grinned.

“But secret.”

“For now.”

“And I still work at Secrets.”

“I know.”

“You know it will not be the same with you as with clients.” Ilya reassured him. “Is just work. Is not forever. I have plan to finish soon, go to school.”

“I think I’ve had a month-long demonstration of being “just work,” that I’d rather not go back to. I trust you, Ilya. School sounds good, tell me more sometime.” Shane smiled and nuzzled back into Ilya’s chest.

“And you are still frightened?” Ilya asked.

“About hockey? Yes. Of you? never.”

Ilya pulled him closer. “I am frightened too.”

Shane turned his face further into Ilya’s chest and kissed the warm skin above his heart. “We’ll figure it out.” He felt unnaturally sure about that.

“You say this with great confidence.” Ilya noted.

“I’m Shane fucking Hollander. I’m good under pressure.”

Ilya laughed. “Except when choosing movie.”

“Shut up.”

Ilya kissed the top of his head.

Shane didn’t know what would happen the following week, or the following season. He didn’t know how long they could survive in secret or what sacrifices might eventually be demanded of them.

But Ilya was staying.

His arms were around Shane. His fingers were in Shane’s hair. The distance between them was gone.

For tonight, it was enough.

Chapter End Notes

Chapter 19

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Ilya was all kinds of confused. It seemed he had a boyfriend now, and he was very happy about that. He also was still working at Secrets, fulfilling the desires of his clients, which he was becoming less happy with.

“So, plan is, when I have enough saved, I go to school and train to be therapist and specialist in sex therapy because that is where I have experience.” Ilya told Shane as they lay together, just three nights after declaring themselves boyfriends. Ilya had left Secrets early on a quiet night and came straight to Shane’s place at his invitation. They had kissed and crawled into bed together but found themselves talking rather than fucking.

Shane lay facing him, tracing a finger in random patterns on Ilya’s chest. He smiled softly at Ilya’s plans. “You know, I could help with the tuition. You could start next semester.” He suggested as if he’d just offered to pay for dinner.

Ilya brushed his thumb over Shane’s cheek. “Is kind offer, and I appreciate it, Kotenok. I am maybe too proud in this respect. I have been determined to earn this for myself for a long time.”

Shane nodded and continued tracing his patterns. “It would mean you could quit Secrets. You said yourself you’re not really enjoying it anymore.”

Ilya chuckled and tapped Shane’s cheek, drawing his big brown eyes up from his chest to meet his gaze. “And who is to blame for this? You, Kotenok, with your freckles and your beautiful face. How can I enjoy giving pleasure to another when I always wish it was you?”

“You do?” Shane asked, his eyes full of hope.

Ilya nodded, “Of course, for long time now. I do what is needed and I leave.”

“So let me help you Ilya, please! You have helped me in so many ways. This is something I can do for you.”

Ilya sighed. “Shane, are you worried about what I do?”

Shane shook his head. “No, I’ve always known. And I trust you, that it’s different with them. I want to help you have your dream.”

Ilya believed him. His little Kotenok was so strong now he didn’t fear that Ilya would run off with another client. He really trusted him completely. It was an incredible feeling, to be trusted like that. He hoped he deserved it.

“OK, let’s make deal. I will apply to McGill, they have respected Psychology department. IF I am accepted, we will talk, ok?”

Shane seemed happy with that and smiled brightly.

“You are easy man to please, Shane Hollander. Now can we sleep? I am so tired and you have game tomorrow.”

Ilya pulled Shane onto his chest as he lay back. Shane wasn’t ready to sleep yet.

“Have you told your sister, about us?” He asked as his fingers raked through Ilya’s curls.

Ilya sighed. “So many questions, Kotenok! No, I haven’t yet. She is back at work and we don’t see each other often on weekdays. Opposite shifts. Do you want me to?”

Shane smiled softly “If you feel she can be trusted. I don’t want you to keep it from someone important to you.”

Ilya kissed Shane’s forehead. “Thank you, Kotenok. She is good person, BIG Shane Hollander fan, she will never say anything to anyone that would hurt you. I think she will be happy.”

“I’m happy.” Shane purred, snuggling closer.

Ilya thought his heart might explode. “Me too, Kotenok, now sleep. Goodnight, Kitten.”

*********

The following months ticked by quickly. Shane and Ilya would see each other twice a week at least. Sometimes Ilya would stay for whole weekends, which they both loved. Sveta had been cautiously supportive, happy for her brother but concerned about the need to keep things secret. If it meant Ilya would finally give up his work, then she would be 100% behind any plan.

Three months later Ilya came to Shane’s apartment with an envelope in his hand.

“From McGill?” Shane asked, noting the fearful look on Ilya’s face.

Ilya nodded. “I am afraid to open it. What if they say no.” He frowned. “What if they think I am sad loser who didn’t go to college right after high school and don’t deserve to be there?”

Shane frowned and lead Ilya by the hand to the couch, sat him down and sat next to him before leaning in to kiss him. “You are not a sad loser. You are a survivor. You have been through so much, and you have worked hard to get what you want. You got great grades in high school, despite everything. They will see that. And if they don’t, it’s their loss. We’ll get you into a program somewhere else.”

Ilya pouted. “But I want to stay in Montreal, with my boyfriend.”

Shane smiled and kissed him again. “Open it, maybe you will.”

Ilya looked at the envelope warily. Shane sighed and leaned in, placing his chin on Ilya’s shoulder. “It doesn’t matter what it says in there, I will still love you.” he said softly.

Ilya froze, turning his head slowly to Shane. “You love me?”

Shane’s eyes widened, realizing he had said the words out loud he’d been saying in his mind for months. He didn’t want to scare Ilya off. “I mean…” He started to backpedal, not entirely sure how he was going to end that sentence, but thankfully Ilya cut him off.

“I love you too.” Tears welled in both their eyes as they grinned stupidly at each other.
“Thank god!” Shane exhaled. He leaned in and they kissed. Warm, soft and tender and full of months of unspoken declarations.

“We really are idiots.” Shane chuckled as his forehead rested against Ilya’s who just nodded and breathed him in.

“OK, open the damn envelope.” Shane said impatiently.

“It will ruin moment.” Ilya chewed his lip.

“Or make it even more perfect. Nothing can ruin the moment, Ilya. Please, open it.”

Ilya sighed and opened the envelope agonizingly slowly. He hadn’t been this nervous about a piece of paper since his asylum application. Just like then, what was in this envelope could change everything. He slowly pulled out the papers within, and together they read the cover letter.

“They accepted me?” Ilya asked, needing verification that he was understanding this correctly.

Shane was beaming. “Yes Ilya, they accepted you, and you got the scholarship. I’m so glad you applied for that too.” Shane wrapped his arms around Ilya and squeezed.

Ilya was still staring at the letter, his head shaking slowly. “No, is not real, is bad joke.”

“It’s real Ilya, I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Ilya looked up at Shane, and Shane could see it still hadn’t sunk in for him. Ilya was still trying to make it not be real. “You… You made this happen, you used your power to…”

Shane looked offended. “I did nothing other than help you with your application, Ilya.

“Fucking McGill University does not take orders from hockey players who barely completed high school. It’s real, Ilya. You did this. You deserve this.”

“Is real?” Ilya asked again, looking into Shane’s eyes. Shane could see it slowly starting to settle in with him.

“It’s real, my love.” Shane held Ilya’s face in his hands.

Ilya thought about everything that had happened since the day his Mama died. His father’s rejection, his aunt’s rejection. The betrayal by Sasha, the beating on the street. The kindness of Olga, the gentle support of the Petrov family, which he had never really fully appreciated. All of this had brought him here, to this moment, where he had finally been seen and accepted and loved for who he was. Where he had been seen by a University as someone with potential. It was not something he’d ever hoped to experience. His eyes filled with tears again and he pulled Shane tight to him.

“I love you, Kotenok, so much.” He sobbed into Shane’s ear. “I have never been so happy.”

***********

Ilya would start college in the fall, and would quit Secrets before summer. He had already decided to stop seeing his private clients, who he left with recommendations for other doms he trusted to treat them right.

All the while, the hockey season continued, with two or three games a week. Frequent road trips kept Shane away for weeks at a time sometimes. It was tough, maintaining a working relationship in secret. Shane often had to share a hotel room when on the road and would be forced to have whispered conversations in the stairwell of the hotel.They got through it and more than made up for lost time when Shane came home. When Shane’s parents visited he wanted to tell them so badly, but something always stopped him. If he was honest it was because of Ilya’s work. He didn’t think they’d understand and he didn’t want to lie. He told himself he would tell them when Ilya was in college.

When the playoffs came around, Montreal were knocked out by Carolina in Round 2, which was particularly painful for Shane who had hopes for the cup. So Shane watched the final with Ilya and Sveta at their place. The New York Admirals had been incredible and got through to the final after many years. They were playing Vancouver which was no small task .

“I can’t believe Scott Hunter is still playing, he is so old!” Ilya moaned about the Admiral’s captain.

“He’s not that old.” Shane answered. They were sitting next to each other on the couch, both leaning forward, watching the game intensely. Their knees brushing together.

Sveta chirped from the armchair. “He is hot.”

Ilya waved a hand at her dismissively “Ah you think all hockey players are hot.”

“He says this like he is not completely obsessed with hockey player.” She grinned and Shane blushed.

Ilya leaned into Shane and gave him a flirty smile, telling him without words that she was completely right. They kissed and only broke apart when Sveta tossed a cushion at them.

“Hey! At least wait until end of game before you jump each other.” She laughed. Ilya tossed the cushion back at her and playfully pouted until Shane kissed his cheek.

“Oh my god, you two are too adorable. I may actually be sick, bring me bucket.” Sveta cried dramatically, making Shane blush again. “It is so unfair I am only one who sees this.” She was softer now.

“I’m glad you do though.” Shane told her. Ilya wrapped an arm around him and pulled him back to lean into the couch with him.

“I think New York have this game. It is end of days.” He sighed, looking back at the screen where New York were one goal up with 5 minutes left.

“They’ve been unstoppable this year, Hunter really turned it up. I don’t know if he has a new trainer or something, but it’s like he’s a different player from last year.” Shane commented. “All the guys are saying the same.”

“Ah, is common for old people to have sudden burst of life before they die.” Ilya chirped, making Shane look at him incredulously.

“Wow! That was dark.” he commented.

Ilya shrugged. “He is easy target.”

Shane laughed “You should be a player with chirps like that.”

Ilya chuckled. “If I were player, I would be the best player in whole world, even better than Shane Hollander. You would be my rival and you would hate me.”

Shane just smiled softly at that. “I could never hate you.” He leaned in and nuzzled Ilya’s neck. “But you are an asshole.” he whispered into his ear.

“It is almost over, ten seconds.” Sveta pulled them out of their bubble. They watched as the crowd counted down the time until the buzzer sounded. The New York Admirals were confirmed as the winners of the Cup.

They watched as the players poured onto the ice and embraced in massive group hug, before splitting off and greeting their families who were now coming in from behind the boards. It was sweet, seeing the players share their success with the people who had been supporting them behind the scenes.

The coverage changed to a wide shot. Shane noticed Scott Hunter was standing alone. Nobody had come to him. He’d read about Hunter’s parents being killed when he was a young boy. It was awful, but he’d never realized he didn’t seem to have anyone else there. He couldn’t imagine that.

“Hunter has nobody.” he muttered, frowning.

“That is sad, even for old man.” Ilya answered.

Then the camera cut in on Hunter, who was looking into the crowd, seemingly at someone in particular. He waved his hand, as if beckoning. Then did it again as he smiled. Maybe it was a friend, Shane thought. Maybe he just wanted someone there. It was hard to believe he was single, he was pretty hot. But then, to someone like Hunter, like Shane, who lived and breathed hockey, it must be hard to find someone who would put up with that. Shane cuddled into Ilya whose eyes were fixed on the TV.

“What is he doing?” Ilya asked curiously.

“I don’t know.” Shane answered.

The camera was now showing a guy coming down to the ice. He looked unsure, but Hunter was still encouraging him. Finally, the guy got over the boards and Hunter helped him onto the ice, holding his hands as they moved towards the center. The commentators did not know what to make of this and seemed as confused as Shane was. All focus was on these two men now, holding hands in the middle of the ice. Hunter seemed to be looking at the other guy with… Adoration?

Ilya’s hand blindly sought Shane’s and squeezed, his gaze still transfixed on the screen as if waiting for something. Shane was still wondering what the hell was happening.

Then, Shane’s world tilted on its axis. Scott Hunter took the other man’s face in his massive hands and kissed him, really really kissed him. Right there. On TV. In the middle of a packed rink. Scott Hunter, super macho captain of the Cup winning team was kissing what he now could only assume was his boyfriend.

Shane sat open-mouthed watching, as he heard Hunter telling the other guy he loved him through the mic on the cameras. The crowd in the stadium was going wild.

Was this happening?

The pain in his hand from where Ilya was gripping so hard seemed to indicate he was not dreaming.

“And another hot guy lost to womankind!” Sveta dramatically moaned, breaking the stunned silence in the room.

Shane looked at her, then at Ilya, who slowly looked back, his eyes glassy with tears. “Shane.” he breathed out.

Shane nodded, tears filling his own eyes. He had no words right now. Ilya pulled him into his chest, holding him tightly as they cried together. The enormity of what they had both just witnessed overwhelmed them with the hope it gave, with the doors it may open. They felt another pair of arms around them as Sveta crawled over the couch to join in the hug.

“You are both very silly boys, but I love you both and I hope this means good things.” She cried, squeezing them both.

********

Shane bought every newspaper the next day, and the days after, every hockey magazine that month. He obsessively read every single piece and watched every commentary on the sports channels about Scott Hunter coming out as gay.

Overall, it seemed it had gone over well. Fans were generally supportive, with a few disgruntled exceptions. The media loved it and were praising Hunter for his courage, which forced the league to make a statement saying how they believed in inclusivity. Shane knew that was bullshit, but it was nice to see them have to put that out there.

It was the end of the season now and hard to know what impact it would have on Hunter’s career until next season. He still got MVP at the awards, which was a good start. Maybe, maybe, everything would be ok.

It was almost summer. Shane’s parents expected him to go to their cottage, as usual. This year though, he would be spending more time at his own cottage. It had been built and furnished and decorated under his mom’s instruction. Shane wanted Ilya there with him. It would be the perfect opportunity to spend quality time together before Ilya started school and Shane started a new season. There was just one thing he needed to do.

A week before he was due to leave for the cottage he made a call.

“Hey Mom, is Dad with you?” Shane paced around the apartment as he talked. It was Ilya’s last night at the club and Shane wanted to ask him to come to the cottage.

“Hey sweetie. Sure, let me put you on speaker.” He heard the change of tone when she switched it over, then his Dad’s reassuring voice.

“Hey son, you ok?”

“I’m ok, nothing to worry about. I just um… I guess it’s about time I told you something. Maybe I should have told you a long time ago.”

“Okaay.” His Mom sounded unsure. He could picture his Dad placing his hand on hers as he added. “Go ahead son, you know you can tell us anything.”

God, Shane loved his Dad, always the calm in the storm. His Mom was frequently the storm. Shane loved her too, so much. But right now, his Dad’s reassuring calm was what he needed.

He licked his lips, his mouth felt dry. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and imagined himself on the ice about to take a shot on goal. “So, um, I’m gay.”

There was a moment of silence, then a small sound from his Mom. It made him wince.
“I know, you might be disappointed.” Shane continued, hating the silence.

“No son.” His Dad interrupted. “We’re not disappointed. I can’t even say we’re surprised.” he continued and Shane’s eyes flew open.

“What? You knew?”

“I think we thought it may be a possibility. We know you pretty well, Shane. You’ve never really shown interest in girls.”

Shane sat with that for a moment before continuing. “Yeah, so, um, well. I’ve met someone.” He heard another sound from his Mom. “Mom, are you crying? Please don’t cry, I tried, I tried really hard but I just can’t help it.” He was starting to panic and regretted doing this over the phone.

“Shane, you have nothing to apologize for.” his Mom tearfully answered. “I am the one who should apologize. I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t tell me. Forgive me?”

Now Shane was crying. He flopped down on the couch and snuggled into a cushion that smelt of Ilya. “I forgive you Mom. I love you.” He sniffled.

“And I love you, so much!” she answered, also sniffling. He could hear her trying to compose herself. “So tell me about this man you met.”

Shane immediately smiled, thinking of Ilya. “His name is Ilya.”

“Unusual” his Dad commented.

“Russian, he was born there, came to Canada when he was 14.” Shane was choosing to leave out the details for now.

“I see. You like him a lot I guess, if you’re telling us.” His Dad was always the plain speaker.

“I love him. He makes me so happy. He’s funny and smart, he’s starting at McGill in the fall. He took some time out to earn tuition, but got a scholarship after all.”

“He makes you happy?” his Mom checked.

“Really happy, Mom. He just sees me… not fucking Shane Hollander hockey star. He sees the other stuff, even the hard stuff and he loves me anyway.” Shane was smiling so wide now, finally happy to be able to talk about Ilya.

“Of course he does sweetheart, who couldn’t love you?” his Mom gushed, making Shane blush. “How old is he? Older I guess, if he’s taken some time before college.”

“21 now. He was 20 when we met. It’s been… about 18 months, since my 18th birthday.” Shane admitted.

Another pause then “So long.” His Mom almost whispered.

“Is this why you were so miserable and went home early last summer?” his Dad astutely asked.

“Yeah, there were some tough times there, but we got through it. Look Mom, Dad. I’m telling you because I’m going to ask him to come with me this summer. I want him to have a good break before college and I… I just want him there. I’m so done hiding him from you guys.”

“Does your team know?” His Mom asked. He could hear her switch into manager mode.

“Nobody knows. Just you guys and his sister, that’s it.”

“OK, well, I’ll work out a plan. Since Scott Hunter I’m sure we can work something out. The sponsors can make it work in their favor too, if they approach it the right way.”

“Mom, I’m not planning to come out or anything yet. I just want to bring him to the cottage. I wanna see how things progress with Scott Hunter before I make any big decisions. The cottage is private, nobody will see us there, except you guys.”

“OK, well, I definitely want to meet the man who makes my boy happy.” his Mom answered.

“I’ll buy some Russian Vodka.” his Dad chipped in.

Shane laughed. “I can’t believe I waited this long. You guys are the best. I love you both so much.”

“We love you too, son.” his Dad told him.

“See you next week.” his Mom added as they ended the call.

Shane melted into the cushions on the couch. He felt like a tonne of weight had been lifted from him. Now for the next stage of his plan.

Jane: Will you come with me to my cottage this summer?

Chapter End Notes

Chapter 20

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

The drive was long, but Shane was grinning the whole time. At least four whole weeks with Ilya, where they could relax. Outside of each other’s apartments and just be a normal couple for a while.

Ilya looked like he was being taken to a death camp.

“Take me back, they will hate me and then you will hate me. Take me back, Shane.” Ilya whined.

It was Shane’s fault. He had waited until they had left Montreal before telling Ilya that he had spoken with his parents, and they wanted to meet him. Ilya was now sat pale-faced in the passenger seat, glancing at him like he had been betrayed.

“They will not hate you, Ilya. I promise. They want to meet the man who makes me happy, that doesn’t sound like they’re coming from a bad place.”

“Parents don’t like me.” Ilya pouted.

“Your father you mean. My parents are not like him, Ilya. I swear.” Shane reached out to take Ilya’s hand but Ilya pulled it away.

“I am mad at you. You tricked me into this trip with promise of four weeks of sex with my hot boyfriend, and now I am trapped in Canadian wilderness with people who hate me.”

“There can still be four weeks of sex.” Shane grinned.

“With your parents listening?” Ilya gasped and now Shane knew he was being ridiculous.

“They will be in a different house, 5 miles away. I don’t think either of us is that loud. Ilya, I was just so excited to have you to myself for the summer, please forgive me?” Shane pouted, glancing away from the long straight road to blink innocently at his boyfriend.

Ilya rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically. “OK, but if they hate me I steal your car and drive home.”

Shane smiled and reached again for Ilya’s hand, who allowed him to take it this time. “If they hate you, I’ll join you, but I know they won’t. I love you, they love me.”

“Do they know what I do…did?” Ilya asked warily.

Shane shook his head. “I, um, skirted over that bit, just said you’d taken some time to earn your tuition. We can say you worked in a club, it wouldn’t be a lie.”

Ilya smirked. “Is stretching the truth a little, I guess. But is respectable, or more respectable than sex worker I suppose.”

“Exactly.” Shane grinned.

“You should have told me.There will be consequences.” Ilya grinned, raising a brow.

Shane glanced over and flushed red. “I was hoping so, I’m prepared to take my punishment.”

“Good.” Ilya grinned again. “So your cottage is finished, but this is first time you have seen it?”

“Yeah, in person anyway. Mom has sent me tonnes of photos and videos and had me choose color schemes and stuff. I don’t care too much about that, I just wanted my own place to relax. The view of the lake is beautiful.”

“Ah, relax, is that what we’re going to do?” Ilya teased.

“I hope so, it would be nice to relax with you, outside, not just in our apartments.”

Ilya’s thumb stroked across the back of Shane’s hand. “Yes, sounds perfect. But I’m still terrified.”

They both laughed and the journey continued until they reached their destination.

Shane had agreed with his parents he would go straight to the cottage, where he and Ilya would take a day to settle in before having them over for dinner on the second day. Shane’s mom had arranged for a fully stocked pantry and fridge to tide them over.

As they pulled up to the cottage Shane smiled wider than ever. “Wow, looks even more impressive in real life.” he said, putting the car in park and looking to Ilya who looked shocked.

“Shane, this is not a cottage, it is a palace. It is huge. Beautiful! But huge! " The oak and glass building stood before them, nestled with the surrounding woodland to one side and a sloping green bank down to the lake on the other. From the front it appeared to be a single floor but a closer look revealed a lower floor towards the back where the land sloped down. The glass was floor to ceiling on all sides, reflecting the trees and the lake, framed in Canadian Oak making it look luxurious, yet like it belonged in this wilderness setting.

Shane produced the key his Mom had sent him and got out of the car. “Let’s go take a look before we bring in the bags.” Ilya nodded enthusiastically and joined him.

Shane felt strangely nervous as he put the key in the door, a feeling like he was doing something really significant but couldn’t put his finger on what it was. He shook his head and decided he was being stupid. He turned the key, opened the heavy wooden door and stepped in. Ilya followed and they both kicked off their shoes by the door. The inside was just as warm and luxurious as the outside had promised, with neutral tones accented by reds and greens and blues. Shane thought his mom had done a great job with her choices. Shane reached for Ilya’s hand as they walked through to the kitchen. Ilya’s eyes were everywhere, taking in every detail.

“What do you think?” Shane asked curiously.

“I think it’s beautiful.” He looked out the windows facing the lake, his smile raising up to his eyes. “Very beautiful, just like you.” He looked at Shane who moved closer to him.

“Our home for the next 4 weeks.” Shane smiled, leaning in to kiss Ilya softly.

Ilya returned the kiss,but broke away shaking his head. “Is your home, I am guest. You designed this.”

Shane lifted his hand to Ilya’s cheek. “Our home. You’re allowed to have nice things Ilya.”

Ilya took a deep breath, looking around again, before coming back to look at Shane. “I still do not believe this is my life now.”

Shane smiled softly. “I know, but it is. And you deserve it. And I’ll keep showing you that.”

Ilya grinned. “I once never thought this would be true, but I am very lucky man.” He squeezed Shane’s hand and looked over his shoulder, finding the bedroom and leading Shane there.

“Hey!” Shane laughed as Ilya pulled him through the doorway. “I thought we were looking around first?”

“We looked around. There is kitchen, there is lake, there is expensive furniture your mother chose. I have seen everything important.”

“You’ve seen three rooms.”

“I have seen bedroom.”

Ilya’s grin was wicked now, the fear and uncertainty from the drive temporarily forgotten as he backed Shane towards the enormous bed dominating the room.

Shane glanced around, taking in the floor-to-ceiling windows looking out across the lake, the pale wooden walls and the ridiculous California King bed his mother had apparently decided her son required.

He suddenly became aware of what Ilya was doing.

“You’re not seriously planning to…”

Ilya shoved him gently backwards. Shane landed on the mattress with a laugh.

“Yes.”

“Ilya, we haven’t even brought the luggage in.” Shane moved to climb off the bed.

“It will still be there after.” Ilya started to crawl over him, blocking his escape.

“The food?” Shane argued.

“Fridge is full.” Ilya’s grin grew wider and more menacing.

“The car is unlocked. and there are wild animals.” Shane playfully fought against Ilya and knocked him back off the bed onto his feet.

“Fuck.” Ilya huffed, rolling his eyes.

Shane laughed harder, rolling onto his side and clutching his stomach as Ilya stood glaring at him.

“You are very irritating boyfriend.”

“You love me.” Shane grinned widely, loving that he could say that with such confidence.

“Unfortunately.” Ilya wasn’t done yet. He leaned down, caught Shane’s ankle and dragged him towards the end of the bed.

Shane squawked. “Ilya!”

“Yes?” Ilya was starting to crawl over him again.

“Bags first.” Shane commanded.

Ilya sighed so dramatically Shane wondered if he might collapse from the effort.

“Fine. But then I am going to fuck you in every room of this ridiculous house.”

Shane flushed. “There are eight rooms.”

Ilya’s eyebrows lifted. “Four weeks. We have time.”

“Oh my God.”

Ilya grinned.

For a few hours, everything was perfect. They unpacked. They ate sandwiches standing at the kitchen island because neither could be bothered cooking. They explored the cottage properly, finding a games room downstairs, a small gym, a sauna and a deck that extended towards the lake.

Ilya immediately announced that rich people were insane. Shane reminded him that he was dating one. Ilya informed him that he was only doing this for the free food. Then he kissed him against the railing overlooking the lake until Shane forgot what they had been talking about.

That night they made love slowly, with the windows open just enough to hear the water against the shore. The following morning Shane woke with Ilya wrapped around him and thought that he had never been happier. Then he remembered.

His parents were coming at five.

Fuck.

By two o’clock Ilya was cleaning things that were already clean. By three he had changed his shirt four times. By half past three he had decided they should fake Shane’s death.

“Ilya.” Shane was exasperated. He was on the couch trying to distract himself with his phone.

Ilya was in the kitchen “No, listen. Boating accident. Very tragic. Your parents will be too upset to interrogate me.”

“I’m not dying to get you out of meeting my parents.” Shane sighed. He had no idea Ilya could be this dramatic. He wasn’t entirely sure he enjoyed this new information. It was kind of cute, but right now also very annoying because he was nervous as well, if not for the same reasons.

“Small injury then.” Ilya propositioned.

“No.”

“Food poisoning?” Ilya’s expression was growing more and more desperate.

“Ilya.”

“I have anxiety!”

Shane stopped laughing. That part was true.

Ilya was standing at the kitchen counter twisting a tea towel between his hands. His color had disappeared somewhere around the second shirt change, and the sarcastic comments had become more frequent the closer they got to five.

Shane stood up, crossed to the kitchen and gently took the tea towel away from him.

“Come here.” He opened his arms.

“I am here.” Ilya frowned.

“Closer.”

Ilya allowed himself to be pulled into Shane’s arms. For a while Shane said nothing. He just held him. Ilya’s face eventually disappeared against Shane’s neck.

“They will ask questions.”

“Probably.”

“What if I answer wrong?”

“There isn’t a wrong answer.”

“There is always wrong answer with parents.” Something about the way he said it hurt Shane’s heart. He pulled back enough to look at him. A hand reached up to cup his jaw and caress his cheek with his thumb.

“My parents aren’t your father.”

“I know.” Ilya’s voice was quiet, too quiet.

“Do you?” Shane asked. Ilya’s eyes dropped. Shane put two fingers under his chin and lifted his face, copying a gesture Ilya had used on him hundreds of times.

“Ilya.” Blue eyes met brown. “They already know I love you.” Ilya swallowed. “They know you make me happy. That’s why they want to meet you.”

“They don’t know everything.” Ilya was still having trouble holding eye contact.

“No.” Shane was doing all he could to be the calm rational one right now.

“If they did?” Shane knew exactly what he meant. Secrets. The work. The clients. Russia. The things Ilya had survived. The parts of himself he still sometimes seemed to think made him dirty.

Shane stroked his thumbs across Ilya’s cheeks.

“They don’t need to know every detail of your life today. But if they ever do know, and if they judge you for surviving things nobody should ever have had to survive, then that’s their problem.”

Ilya looked unconvinced. “And mine,” Shane added. “Because I’ll tell them exactly that.”

“You would fight with your parents for me?”

“I’d rather not. My Mom is terrifying.” That got the smallest smile. “But yeah. I would.”

Ilya breathed deeply. “You love them very much.”

“I do.”

“You should not lose them because of me.”

“I’m not going to lose them.”

“But if…”

“No.” Shane’s voice was firmer now. “You don’t get to decide you’re not worth choosing, Ilya.”

Ilya went still. Shane realized the sentence had hit somewhere deep. So he softened his voice.“You’re worth choosing.” Ilya blinked rapidly. “Every time.”

“Fuck you,” Ilya whispered.

Shane smiled. “Later.”

Ilya laughed wetly and pulled him into another hug. Then a car door slammed outside.

Ilya froze. “Oh fuck.”

Shane kissed his cheek. “Too late for the boating accident.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

“Currently considering it.”

The knock came seconds later.

Ilya physically jumped. Shane took his hand. “Ready?”

“No.”

“Good enough.”

Shane opened the door. Yuna Hollander barely looked at her son. Her attention immediately went to the enormous Russian standing behind him like a man waiting to be executed. Her face lit up.

“Oh!” Ilya blinked. Yuna smiled wider. “Oh my goodness, look at you!”

“Mom.” Shane whined.

“What?” Her eyes were still fixed on Ilya.

“Could you maybe not objectify my boyfriend within the first three seconds?”

“I am not objectifying him!” She kept on smiling at him.

David appeared behind her carrying two bags. “You kind of are, honey.”

Yuna ignored him. “You must be Ilya.” She finally addressed him directly.

Ilya straightened. “Yes, Mrs Hollander. Is very nice to meet you.”

“Oh none of that Mrs Hollander stuff. Yuna.” She stepped towards him.

Ilya instinctively stepped backwards. Yuna stopped. For half a second Shane saw her understand. She didn’t know the details, but she understood enough.

Instead of embracing him, she held out her hand. “It’s lovely to finally meet you, Ilya.”

Something in Ilya’s posture relaxed. He took her hand. “Thank you. You also.”

David stepped forward next. “David.”

“Ilya.” They shook hands. David’s grip was firm, his smile easy. Then he looked at Shane.

“You gonna let us in, son?”

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry.” Shane snapped out of his observation of Ilya with his Mom.

The first fifteen minutes were awkward. Painfully awkward. Mostly because Ilya seemed to believe he was attending a job interview. He sat perfectly upright on the couch while Yuna asked about McGill.

“Yes, Psychology. I start in September.”

“And what do you want to do eventually?” Yuna asked softly, seeming genuine in her interest.

“Sex therapy.” Ilya answered flatly.

Yuna blinked. Shane nearly inhaled his drink.

Ilya’s eyes widened. “I mean… I want to specialize in relationships, sexuality, sexual trauma, perhaps BDSM community because there is not always enough understanding from therapists and…”

“That sounds fascinating,” Yuna interrupted.

Ilya stopped. “You think?”

“Absolutely. There aren’t enough therapists who understand sexuality without treating it as pathology.”

Ilya stared at her.

Yuna looked confused. “What?”

Ilya actually started to blush. “I thought you would perhaps think is… inappropriate.”

“Why?” Yuna frowned.

Ilya had no answer for that. Shane watched his boyfriend’s face start to soften and relax.

Then Yuna asked about Russia. Not the bad parts. She asked where he was born. What food he missed. Whether there were places he remembered fondly. If Russian winters really were worse than Canadian ones. That turned into a twenty-minute argument between Ilya and David about snow. Apparently this was a subject upon which both men had extremely strong opinions.

“The cold in Moscow gets inside bones,” Ilya insisted.

“Try northern Ontario in February.” David countered.

“I have.”

“Then you know.”

“I know you are wrong.” Ilya grinned. David laughed.

Shane watched from the kitchen as his father poured Ilya another beer. This was going impossibly well. Yuna came to stand beside him.

“He’s lovely.” She said softly as she brushed a piece of lint from Shane’s shoulder.

Shane looked at her. “You think?”

“Of course.” She looked across the room where Ilya was now apparently demonstrating to David why Russians were superior at drinking vodka.

“He’s funny.”

“He thinks he is.” Shane grinned following his mother’s gaze.

“He clearly adores you.” That made Shane’s stomach warm.

“Yeah.” he sighed happily.

Yuna nudged him with her shoulder. “And you adore him.”

Shane smiled. “Yeah.”

She was quiet for a second. “I wish you’d told me sooner.”

The warmth dimmed. “Mom…”

“I don’t mean that as criticism.” She was quick to interrupt but kept her voice low so the conversation could only be heard by them. She touched his arm. “I just hate that you went through all of this without us.”

Shane nodded and smiled softly at her. “I wasn’t ready.” He took a deep breath. “And it wasn’t just about you and Dad. It was hockey.”

“I know.” she answered softly.

“It still is.”

Yuna sighed. “Scott Hunter changed things.”

“Maybe.” Shane was still waiting to see the fallout of that situation.

“But you’re not ready?”

Shane glanced towards Ilya. His boyfriend was laughing. Really laughing. Head tipped back. Blue eyes bright. David was laughing with him. “I don’t know.”

Yuna followed his gaze. “You don’t have to decide today.”

Shane nodded. “I just don’t want him to be a secret forever.”

Yuna’s expression softened. “No. I don’t imagine you do.”

Dinner was even easier. Ilya stopped sitting like he had a hockey stick shoved up his ass and began behaving like himself. Which Shane immediately regretted.

“So Shane tells me you support the Metros,” David said.

Ilya nodded. “Always.”

“Before you met Shane?” David asked, surprised.

“Yes.”

“Really?”

Ilya looked towards Shane. Shane narrowed his eyes.

“Ilya.”

“I had small appreciation for team.”

“Ilya.”

“Perhaps mostly one player.”

Yuna’s eyes widened. “Oh my God. You were a fan?”

“No,” Shane said immediately.

“Yes,” Ilya answered at exactly the same time.

David laughed. “This is getting interesting.”

Shane covered his face. Ilya grinned. “I thought he was very pretty.”

“I’m leaving.” Shane groaned.

“You live here,” Ilya reminded him.

“I’ll find somewhere else.”

Yuna was delighted. “So you had a crush on him before you met?”

Ilya took a long drink of wine. “Perhaps.”

“Holy shit,” Shane muttered.

His mother was practically vibrating. “How did you meet?”

Silence. Shane and Ilya stared at each other. David noticed immediately.

“Now that’s an interesting reaction.”

Shane opened his mouth. Nothing came out. Ilya looked at him. Then at Yuna. Then David.

“We met at club where I worked.”

Technically true. Yuna smiled.

“Nightclub?”

Ilya’s mouth twitched. “Yes.”

Shane almost choked.

“Something funny?” David asked.

“Nope.”

Ilya’s eyes were dancing now. “I saw Shane and thought, this man looks like he needs someone to take care of him.”

Shane kicked him under the table. Ilya didn’t react. Yuna put a hand against her chest.

“That is adorable.”

“You have no idea,” Shane muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

It was after ten when Yuna finally announced they should leave. “We’ll see you both tomorrow?” she asked.

Both. Not Shane. Both.

“Yes,” Shane answered.

Ilya hesitated. Yuna noticed.

“Ilya?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“Good.”

She stepped towards him again but stopped a few feet away. This time Ilya understood. He smiled softly and opened his arms. Yuna hugged him. It wasn’t a polite hug. It was a proper Yuna Hollander hug. Tight. Warm. The sort Shane had received every day of his childhood. Ilya stood stiffly for a second. Then his arms wrapped around her. His eyes closed. When she pulled away there was an unfamiliar expression on his face.

“Thank you for making my boy happy,” she told him.

Ilya looked down. “He makes me happy also.”

“I can see that.” She kissed his cheek. Ilya looked completely stunned.

David said goodbye to Shane, hugging him and whispering, “Good choice, son,” before turning towards Ilya. “Ilya, can I have a word?”

Ilya’s face changed instantly. The fear came rushing back. Shane started towards them. David shook his head slightly. Ilya followed him onto the deck. Shane could see them through the glass but couldn’t hear. “Dad isn’t gonna threaten him, is he?” he asked.

Yuna laughed. “Your father? Have you met him?”

“Good point.” Outside, Ilya stood with his hands buried in the pockets of his jeans.

David rested his arms against the railing. For a moment neither spoke. Then David looked at him. “Shane told us you’ve been together about eighteen months.”

“Yes.”

“He also said there were some difficult times.” Ilya swallowed.

“Yes.”

David nodded. “He didn’t give details. I don’t need them.”

Ilya waited. This was it. The warning. Don’t hurt my son. Stay away from him. You’re not good enough. He’d heard versions of it before. David looked back through the window towards Shane.

“My son has always carried too much.”

Ilya blinked. “He’s been like that since he was a kid. Everything has to be perfect. Grades. Hockey. Food. Training. He thinks if he works hard enough he can control everything that might go wrong.”

Ilya nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“You know that about him.”

“Yes.”

David turned back. “And somehow, since you’ve been in his life, he’s different.”

Ilya’s heart pounded.

“He laughs more.”

Ilya said nothing.

“He’s less hard on himself. Still too hard, but less.”

David smiled. “And he’s happier than I’ve ever seen him.”

Ilya’s throat tightened. “I try to take care of him.”

“I know.” David reached out and put a hand on Ilya’s shoulder.

“Thank you.” Ilya stared at him.

“What?”

“Thank you for taking care of Shane.”

That was not what Ilya had expected. Not even close.

“He takes care of me also.” Ilya was trying really hard to hold back his emotions but he was sure David would have heard his voice crack just then.

“That’s how it’s supposed to work.” David said simply.

Ilya’s eyes burned. David seemed to notice but had enough kindness not to mention it.

“I don’t know everything you’ve been through, Ilya. Shane told us you had a rough start. You don’t owe me the story.”

Ilya looked down. “But whatever happened before, you’re welcome here.”

He looked back up. David squeezed his shoulder. “You’re family as long as Shane says you’re family.”

Ilya couldn’t breathe. Family. That word. That fucking word. He hadn’t even realized how badly he wanted it until somebody offered it to him. Not because they were paid to foster him. Not because they had survived the same things. Not because they needed something.

Because he loved their son. And they loved him for loving Shane.

“I… thank you.”

David smiled. “No problem.”

Ilya scrubbed at his face quickly. “Please do not tell Shane I cried.”

“I won’t.”

“He will become emotional.”

“He gets that from his mother.”

Through the window Yuna shouted, “I heard that!”

David laughed. Ilya did too, and something inside him broke open. Not painfully. For once, it broke like ice beneath spring sunlight.

Slowly. Naturally. Making room for something new.

Shane closed the door after his parents left. He turned. Ilya was standing in the center of the room staring at nothing.

“Hey.”

No response.

“Ilya?” He questioned.

Ilya looked at him. His eyes were wet. Shane immediately crossed the room. “What happened? What did Dad say?”

Ilya shook his head. “Nothing bad.”

“Then why are you crying?”

“I am not.”

“You absolutely are.”

“Your father told me not to tell you.”

Shane’s mouth fell open. “He knew you’d cry?”

“No. I told him not to tell you I cried.”

Despite his concern, Shane laughed. “Ilya.”

Ilya’s face crumpled. “He thanked me.”

“For what?”

“For taking care of you.”

Shane stopped laughing. Ilya looked completely bewildered. “Like this was good thing I did. Like I am good thing in your life.”

“You are.”

“I know you think this.”

“No. I know it.”

Ilya wiped impatiently at another tear. “Your Mama hugged me.”

“Yeah.”

“She likes me.”

“She loves you already. I could tell.”

“Do not say this.”

“Why?”

“Because…” He shook his head. There were too many feelings and none of them had English words. Maybe they didn’t have Russian words either.

Shane stepped closer. “Ilya.”

“I do not know what this is.”

“What what is?”

“This.” Ilya gestured wildly around them. “This house. You. Your parents. Sveta. University. All of it.”

Shane waited. “In Russia, after Mama died, I thought… that was it. I thought maybe some people get family and some people don’t. Some get home. Some get someone who is happy they came through door.” His voice broke. “I stopped wanting it because wanting was fucking painful.”

Shane’s eyes filled. “Then Sveta. She became family. But even with her, we were two people trying not to drown. We made family because there was nobody else.”

He looked towards the door Shane’s parents had just walked through. “Your mother looked at me like she was happy to see me.”

“She was.”

“Your father thanked me.”

“He should.”

“And you…” Ilya’s hands came up to Shane’s face. “You look at me like I am best thing in world.”

“You are to me.”

Ilya laughed through the tears. “This is what belonging feels like?”

Shane’s heart shattered. “Oh, Ilya.”

“Is it?”

“Yes.” Shane wrapped his arms around him.

Ilya folded against him. “Yes,” Shane whispered again. “This is it.”

“I like it.”

Shane smiled into his curls. “Good.”

“I am frightened it goes away.”

“It won’t.”

“You cannot promise.”

“No.” Shane pulled back. “But I can promise I’m not planning on going anywhere.”

Ilya searched his eyes. “And my parents aren’t going anywhere. Sveta isn’t going anywhere.”

“Shane…”

“You have people now.”

That did it. Ilya kissed him. Hard. Desperate. Shane stumbled backwards from the force of it, Ilya’s hands framing his face as their mouths crashed together. This wasn’t one of Ilya’s controlled kisses. There was no Master. No careful seduction. No measured touch. It was Ilya.

Just Ilya.

Shane kissed him back with everything he had. Their mouths parted only long enough to breathe. “I love you,” Ilya gasped.

“I love you too.”

Another kiss.

“I love you.”

“I know.”

“No.” Ilya gripped his shirt. “I love you, Shane. Not hockey player. Not client. Not Kotenok who needs me to tell him what to do. You.”

Shane felt tears spilling down his own cheeks now. “I know.”

“You gave me this.”

“No. You made this with me.”

Ilya stared at him. Then Shane whispered, “Take me to bed.”

The change in Ilya was immediate but different from before. His eyes darkened, but there was no performance in it. No professional confidence. He took Shane’s hand.

“Come.”

They walked to the bedroom together. Not rushed. Not playing. When they reached the bed Ilya turned to him. For a moment they simply looked at each other. Shane lifted Ilya’s shirt over his head. He had seen this body so many times. Touched it. Kissed it. Been held beneath it. But tonight it felt different. Every scar mattered. Every mark. Every piece of this man that had survived long enough to stand here. Shane pressed his lips to the scar near Ilya’s ribs. Ilya’s breath caught. Then another. And another. “Shane.”

Shane looked up.“You’re beautiful.” he told Ilya.

Ilya laughed softly. “You are supposed to say handsome.”

“No. Beautiful.”

Ilya reached down and cupped his face. “So are you.”

They undressed each other slowly. Shane’s shirt. Ilya’s jeans. Shane’s shorts. Underwear dropped somewhere neither cared about. When they were naked Ilya pulled Shane against him. Skin against skin. Hard bodies. Warmth. Shane’s cock pressed between them and Ilya was just as hard against his hip, but neither immediately reached down. They kissed instead. Slowly. Deeply.

Shane ran his hands over Ilya’s back, feeling the muscles shift beneath his palms as Ilya held him. He loved that strength. Not because Ilya could overpower him, but because Ilya had spent his whole life using it to survive, and now he trusted Shane enough to be soft.

Ilya’s lips moved down his jaw. His throat. Shane tipped his head back. “Ilya.”

“Mmm?”

“Don’t make this about me tonight.”

Ilya stopped. “What?”

“You always take care of me.”

“I like taking care of you.”

“I know.” Shane stroked his cheek. “Let me take care of you.”

Something vulnerable flickered in Ilya’s eyes. “Shane…”

“Please.” Ilya swallowed. Then nodded. Shane kissed him once. “Lie down.”

Ilya’s eyebrow lifted. Shane smiled. “Yeah. I said it.”

“You are bossy now.”

“Learned from the best.”

Ilya lay back against the pillows. Shane climbed over him. For once, Ilya’s hands rested where Shane placed them. For once, he surrendered. Shane kissed his mouth. Then his chest. He took his time over every inch.

Ilya’s breathing deepened as Shane’s mouth moved lower, tongue circling one nipple before he bit gently enough to make Ilya groan. “Fuck.”

Shane smiled against his skin. “Good?”

“You know is good.”

“I like hearing it.”

“Brat.”

“Your fault.” Shane moved lower. His lips followed the hard lines of Ilya’s stomach. When he reached his cock, Ilya was fully hard, thick and flushed, leaking at the tip. Shane wrapped his hand around him. Ilya inhaled sharply. “You still like watching me do this?” Shane asked.

Blue eyes stared down at him. “Always.”

Shane smiled and dragged his tongue slowly over the head.

Ilya’s hips jerked. Shane remembered the first time. On his knees. Terrified. Desperate. Thinking this man was impossibly beautiful and knowing absolutely nothing about what he was doing. Now he knew Ilya’s body, knew the places that made his breath catch, knew the exact pressure he liked, knew how to make him swear in Russian. He took him into his mouth.

Ilya groaned. “Shane.”

One hand moved instinctively towards his hair then stopped. Shane reached up, took it and placed it against his head. “You can touch me.”

Ilya’s fingers threaded gently through his hair. Shane took him deeper. His hand worked what his mouth couldn’t, fist moving in time with the slow movement of his lips. Ilya’s stomach tightened. “Fuck, Kotenok.”

Shane hummed around him.

Ilya’s fingers clenched. “That is cheating.”

Shane pulled away just long enough to grin. “Good.”

“You are evil.”

“You’re the one who trained me.”

He lowered his mouth again. Ilya’s head dropped back against the pillow. Shane loved this. Loved hearing him. Loved making the man who carried so much control lose it.

Ilya’s hips shifted again. “Shane, stop.” Shane immediately did. He looked up. Ilya was breathing hard.

“Wrong?”

“No.”

Ilya shook his head. “If you continue I come.”

“That was kind of the plan.” Shane grinned.

“No.”

Shane frowned. Ilya reached for him. “Come here.”

Shane crawled up his body. Ilya kissed him.

“I want you.”

“You have me.”

“I want…” Ilya looked almost shy. That was rare enough to make Shane’s heart race.

“What?”

“I want you inside me.”

Shane froze. They had done almost everything. Ilya had fucked him many times. Shane had never fucked Ilya.

“You sure?” he asked, unsure if this was some joke Ilya was playing.

“Yes.”

“No games?”

“No games.” Ilya touched his face. “Just you.”

“Is this the first?” Shane asked, needing to know if he needed to give the same careful introduction he had been given.

Ilya shook his head. “No Kotenok, but first for a long time. First I’ve really wanted, needed.”

Shane kissed him. “I love you.”

He reached towards the bedside table. His mother, mercifully, had not stocked that particular item but they had. Shane retrieved the bottle of lubricant they had unpacked earlier.

Ilya watched him. There was trust in his eyes. Not dominance. Not submission. Trust.

Shane warmed some lube between his fingers before touching him. Ilya’s legs opened. Shane kissed him as one finger circled gently, then pressed inside. Ilya exhaled against his mouth.

“Okay?”

“Yes.”

Shane moved slowly. Tonight wasn’t about rushing. He added another finger. Ilya moaned softly, his cock pressed hard between them. Shane curled his fingers and Ilya’s entire body jerked.

“Fuck!”

Shane grinned. “There?”

“You know exactly where.”

He did it again. Ilya grabbed the pillow. “Oh fuck you.”

“That’s the plan.”

Ilya laughed breathlessly. It was the laugh that got Shane. The happiness in it. The complete absence of fear. Shane moved between his legs. He coated his cock with lube and looked down. Ilya reached for him.

“Come.”

Shane positioned himself. The head of his cock pressed against Ilya. “Tell me if…”

“I will. Shane, please.”

Shane pushed forward slowly. Ilya’s eyes closed. His mouth fell open. Shane stopped when he was halfway inside. “Okay?”

Ilya opened his eyes.“Yes.”

Shane pushed deeper. The heat and tightness around him nearly stole his breath.“Fuck.”

Ilya gave a soft laugh. “Very romantic.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.” Shane kissed him as he slid fully inside. Both men groaned into the kiss. For several seconds Shane didn’t move. He just stayed there, connected. Ilya’s hands moved across his back.

“So good,” Ilya whispered.

Shane pulled back slowly and pressed forward again. Ilya moaned. Shane did it again and again. Their rhythm built gradually, each thrust deep and deliberate.

Ilya’s legs wrapped around his waist. His face was completely open, every emotion visible. Pleasure. Love. Trust. Shane leaned down and pressed their foreheads together.

“I love you.”

Ilya’s fingers dug into his shoulders. “I love you.”

Shane thrust deeper. Ilya cried out. “Oh fuck, yes.”

The pace changed. Shane’s hips moved harder now. Ilya met each thrust. The bed shifted beneath them. Their mouths found each other between gasping breaths. Shane reached between their bodies and wrapped a hand around Ilya’s cock.

Ilya groaned loudly. “Shane.”

Shane stroked him in rhythm with his thrusts. Ilya’s body tightened around him.

“Fuck, fuck, Kotenok…”

“Come for me.”

Ilya’s eyes opened. Shane saw the moment it happened. Ilya’s face changed. His body went rigid. He cried Shane’s name as he came across his stomach and Shane’s hand, pulsing hard.

The tightening around Shane’s cock destroyed what little control he had left. He thrust twice more. “Fuck, Ilya…”

His orgasm tore through him. Shane buried his face against Ilya’s neck, shaking as he came. For several seconds there was nothing except breathing. Heartbeats. Skin. The distant sound of water against the shore.

Shane carefully pulled out and collapsed beside him. Ilya immediately rolled towards him. Shane laughed tiredly. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“You okay?”

Ilya nodded. “Very.”

Shane reached for tissues from the bedside table and cleaned them both as best he could.

Ilya watched him.

“What?”

“Nothing.” There was a small grin curling on his lips.

“You’re staring.”

“I like you.”

Shane laughed. “Good. Would have been awkward otherwise.”

Ilya caught his wrist and pulled him down. Shane settled against his chest. For a long while neither spoke. Then Ilya’s fingers began moving through Shane’s hair. The old familiar gesture. Only now Shane understood what it meant.

Home.

“I think,” Ilya said quietly, “maybe this is first time I make love.”

Shane lifted his head. “We’ve had sex approximately a million times.”

“Not what I mean.”

“I know.”

Ilya looked towards the dark windows. “Before, sex was sex. Even with you at first. Pleasure. Control. Escape.”

His eyes came back to Shane. “This was not escape.”

“No.”

“This was… being here.”

Shane kissed his chest. “Yeah.”

Ilya smiled. “With person I love.”

Shane tightened his arm around him. “With your family five miles away.”

Ilya groaned. “You ruined moment.”

Shane laughed into his chest. “I couldn’t resist.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

“No.”

Ilya kissed the top of his head. “I really, really don’t.”

And beneath a Canadian sky, in a house he had been afraid to call his, Ilya Rozanov fell asleep wrapped around the man he loved.

For once, he wasn’t dreaming about somewhere else. He was already home.

Chapter End Notes

Chapter 21

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Scott Hunter gave his first proper television interview three weeks later. Shane had been waiting for it. The entire fucking hockey world had been waiting for it. He and Ilya were back in Montreal by then, their ridiculous perfect month at the cottage over far too quickly.

Ilya had officially finished at Secrets. His university start date was approaching. Shane’s preseason schedule was beginning. Real life was returning. They watched the interview at Shane’s apartment with Sveta sprawled in an armchair eating popcorn.

Hunter sat opposite one of the country’s biggest sports journalists.

No uniform.

No hockey gear.

Just jeans and a button-down shirt. His boyfriend sat beside him. That alone made Shane’s heart race. The interviewer didn’t waste time.

“Scott, you’ve had almost two months now to process the reaction to coming out. Did you expect this much attention?”

Hunter laughed. “No. I expected attention. I didn’t expect helicopters outside my apartment.”

His boyfriend rolled his eyes. “There were two.”

“Two too many.”

Shane smiled. Ilya’s hand found his. They listened.

There had been backlash. Of course there had been. Hunter talked about hate mail, people shouting slurs during public appearances, a small group of fans burning his jersey outside the Admirals arena. Online message boards had some of the most disgusting things Shane had ever read. One sponsor had initially requested a review meeting. But then Hunter talked about everything else. The thousands of letters, parents thanking him. Teenagers telling him they had finally come out to their families. Fans arriving at appearances wearing his number with rainbow flags. The Admirals selling out of his jersey, his teammates standing beside him.

Literally.

When somebody shouted a slur at training camp, three players had stepped between Hunter and the fan before security even arrived. Shane leaned forward. The interviewer asked the question he had been desperate to hear answered. “Were you concerned about sponsors?”

“Of course.”

“And?”

Hunter smiled. “They all stayed.”

Shane’s breath caught.

“One actually extended the contract?” Hunter laughed. “Yeah. Apparently being gay doesn’t make me worse at selling protein powder.”

His boyfriend added dryly, “Still tastes terrible.”

Hunter elbowed him. Shane laughed. Ilya didn’t. He was watching Shane.

The interviewer continued. “And your teammates?”

Hunter became serious. “They’ve been incredible.”

“All of them?”

A pause. “Most.”

Shane swallowed as Hunter continued. “There were a couple of guys who struggled with it.

That’s their problem. The important thing was that the room didn’t become theirs.”

Shane sat completely still. “The guys who supported me were louder.”

Hunter looked directly into the camera. “And that’s what changed things. It wasn’t just gay people telling homophobes to shut up, but straight teammates did it. Coaches did it. Fans did it. Once that happened, the guys with the problem started looking like exactly what they were.”

“Which is?”

“Assholes.”

Sveta cheered. “Yes! I like old hockey man now.”

Ilya laughed. The interview went on. Hunter hadn’t lost his captaincy. He hadn’t lost his endorsements. The team hadn’t distanced itself. The league hadn’t suspended him. His career wasn’t over. He was sitting on national television holding his boyfriend’s hand.

And the world had continued turning. When the programme finished Sveta stood up. “I go home.”

Ilya frowned. “You live across city.”

“Yes.”

“You normally stay and annoy us until after midnight.”

“I think maybe you two need to talk.”

Shane looked at her. Sveta gave him a soft smile, then kissed Ilya’s forehead.

“Goodnight, brother.”

She hugged Shane next. “Goodnight, hockey superstar.”

“Night, Sveta.”

She left, and the apartment became quiet. Shane sat staring at the blank television screen. Ilya didn’t push. He had become very good at knowing when Shane needed space for the noise in his head to rearrange itself.

Eventually Shane spoke. “I’ve been so fucking scared.”

“I know.”

“For almost two years.” He could barely believe it had been so long.

“I know.”

“I thought if anyone knew, everything would disappear.”

Ilya moved closer, Shane looked at him. “But Hunter’s still there.”

“Yes.”

“His sponsors stayed.”

“Yes.”

“His teammates…”

“Most.”

Shane nodded. “Most.”

Ilya reached for his hand.

“Ilya, I’m tired.” Ilya’s expression softened.

“Then sleep.”

“No.”

Shane shook his head. “I’m tired of hiding.”

Ilya went very still. Shane stood and paced towards the windows.

“I don’t mean I’m gonna run outside waving a Pride flag tonight.”

“This is good because I do not think we own one.”

Shane laughed despite himself, then became serious again. “I mean, this isn’t enough anymore.”

Ilya looked wounded for half a second. Shane immediately corrected himself.

“Not you. Jesus, not you.”

He crossed the room. “This.”

He gestured around the apartment. “Only being able to love you behind locked doors.”

Ilya’s mouth opened. Shane kept going. “I want you at games.”

“Shane…”

“I want you to meet my teammates.”

“Shane.”

“I want to take you to fucking dinner without checking who might be there.”

Ilya stood.

“I want to be able to kiss you goodbye at the airport.”

“Stop.”

“I want…”

“Shane!”

Shane stopped. Ilya looked terrified. Not uncertain. Terrified. “You do not have to do this for me.”

“I’m not.”

“You think because Hunter did it…”

“No.”

“You have career. You have future. Captain maybe. Awards. Sponsors. Your whole life.”

“I know.”

“And you risk all for what? So we can hold hands in restaurant?”

“No, I’d risk it for me.”

Ilya shook his head. “You say this because you are emotional.”

“I’ve been thinking about it since the Cup final.”

“Then think more.”

“I have.”

“Months more.”

“No.”

“Shane.”

“Ilya, listen to me.”

Shane took his hands. “I don’t want you to be my secret anymore.”

Ilya’s eyes filled. “Is enough for me.”

“It isn’t for me.”

That silenced him. Shane squeezed his hands. “I spent my entire life deciding what I could tolerate. How much of myself I could cut away and still function.”

Ilya stared at him. “No relationships. No talking about men. Don’t react to slurs. Don’t stare too long, don’t touch, don’t look Don’t fucking breathe wrong.” His voice shook. “I met you and for the first time I got to know what my life could actually feel like.”

“Shane…”

“I want that life.”

Ilya’s lower lip trembled.

“I want a life with you.”

Silence.

Ilya closed his eyes and Shane waited. When Ilya opened them again, he looked so vulnerable Shane wanted to wrap him up and protect him from everything.

“You mean this?” Ilya asked, frowning.

“Yes.”

“Not only this year?” Ilya still couldn’t quite believe this was his life now.

“Yes.”

“You are nineteen.”

“You are only a few years older.” Shane sighed.

“You may change.”

“So might you.”

“I am very unlikely to become handsome woman.”

That made Shane laugh. “Probably not.”

Ilya smiled weakly. Then the fear returned in his eyes. “What if it goes badly?”

“Then we deal with it.” Ilya had created a monster, an overconfident Shane.

“What if they hate you?” He couldn’t bear that thought.

“Some people will.”

“What if team…”

“I’ll talk to the organization first.”

“Sponsors?”

“My Mom will deal with them.”

Ilya snorted. “This I believe.”

Shane smiled. “I won’t just drop it on everyone. We’ll plan it.”

“We?”

“If you’re willing.”

Ilya stared at him. “You want people to know about me?”

“Eventually, yeah. I won’t tell them anything about Secrets unless you want that known.”

“No.”

“Then it stays private.” Shane was being annoyingly calm.

“You would say you have boyfriend?”

“Yeah.”

“And one day they see me?”

“If you want.”

Ilya’s eyes shone. “Shane Hollander’s boyfriend.”

“That’s the title.”

“Very prestigious.” Ilya smiled wide.

“Terrible pay.”

“Benefits?”

Shane stepped closer. “Excellent.”

Ilya smiled. Then he pulled Shane against him. His face pressed into Shane’s neck.

“I am fucking terrified.”

“Me too.”

“You will not change mind?”

“No.”

Ilya held him tighter. “Then I am with you.”

The Metros were told first. Shane sat in a conference room with Yuna beside him. Coach Theriault, the general manager, team communications, legal. People Shane had seen around the organization his whole rookie season but had never imagined discussing his sex life with. He thought he might throw up.

“So,” Shane said. Everyone waited. He rubbed sweaty palms against his trousers. “This is probably gonna be awkward.”

The general manager smiled slightly. “We’ve had worse meetings.”

“Okay.” Shane looked at his mother. She nodded. He took a breath. “I’m gay.”

Nobody gasped, nobody walked out, nobody called him a slur. Coach Theriault simply nodded.

“Okay.”

Shane blinked. “Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s it?”

“What do you want me to say, Hollander?”

“I don’t know.”

Theriault leaned back. “You still gonna score fifty goals next season?”

“Planning on more.”

“Then I don’t see the hockey problem.”

Shane almost laughed. The organization wanted control over the announcement, not control over Shane. Control over logistics, press,security, sponsors, the league.

Yuna was in her element. Within forty-eight hours she had spoken to every sponsor. Shane spent those forty-eight hours convinced everything would collapse, but nothing did. One sponsor requested a longer conversation. Another wanted assurances that the announcement wasn’t connected to “controversial political activism”, which made Shane angry enough to tell Yuna he would drop them first. They backed down. The rest stayed.

One executive told Yuna privately that they believed Shane’s honesty could increase his commercial appeal. Shane hated that.

Ilya found it hilarious. “You come out gay and capitalism says excellent, we sell more shoes.”

“It’s fucked up.”

“Yes. But you keep shoes?”

“Apparently.”

“Good. I like free shoes.”

The team was next. That scared Shane more than anything. Coach called everyone together after practice. Shane sat in his stall, his hands were shaking.

Hayden noticed. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You look like you’re gonna puke.”

“Thanks.”

Coach Theriault stood in the middle of the room. “Hollander has something he wants to tell you guys.”

Every face turned towards him.

Fuck.Fuck.Fuck.

Shane stood and looked around the room. Men he trained with, traveled with, showered with, fought beside, listened to say things that cut him without knowing.

J.J., Hayden, Drapeau, Others. His mouth was dry.

“I’m gay.”

Silence.

Shane’s heart stopped. Then Hayden stood and crossed the room. For one horrible second Shane had no idea what was happening. Hayden grabbed him and pulled him into a hug.

“Okay.”

Shane almost collapsed. “Okay?”

“Yeah, asshole. Okay.”

Someone laughed. Then J.J. stood. His face looked horrified. Shane braced.

“Fuck.” J.J. rubbed a hand over his face.

“That night.”

Shane knew immediately.

Secrets. His eighteenth birthday. J.J.’s face went red. “All that shit we said.”

Shane swallowed. “Yeah.”

“Fuck, Shane. I’m sorry.”

It was so sincere Shane couldn’t stay angry. “Thanks.”

J.J. hugged him too. “Jesus. Were you already…?”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” Everyone laughed.

The tension broke, the questions came. Mostly stupid, some funny, a couple unintentionally offensive. But nobody rejected him, not openly.

Drapeau sat quietly. Shane noticed. So did everyone else. Eventually Drapeau stood and walked towards the showers without saying anything.

J.J. watched him go. “Dick.”

“Leave it,” Shane said.

Hayden shook his head. “No.”

Shane looked at him.

Hayden’s expression was serious. “You’ve been worrying about what we’d think for how long?”

Shane looked down. “A while.”

“Then no. If somebody has a problem, they don’t get to make it your problem.”

Several players nodded. Shane felt something inside him shift. Scott Hunter had been right. The room didn’t belong to the loudest asshole anymore, not unless everybody else let him have it.

Drapeau wasn’t thrown off the team. Nobody attacked him, nobody needed to. He simply found that the jokes he once made no longer got laughs. When he muttered something about Pride tape a week later, J.J. told him to shut the fuck up. When he complained that everyone was “too sensitive now”, Hayden asked him why another man’s boyfriend was occupying so much space in his head.

Eventually Drapeau stopped. Not because Shane had defeated him, but because the room had moved on without him.

The press conference was scheduled for Tuesday morning. Shane didn’t sleep Monday night. Ilya tried everything. Sex, massage, tea, more sex, finally threatening to knock him unconscious. Nothing worked.

At four in the morning Shane was standing in the kitchen drinking water. Ilya appeared wearing nothing except boxers. “You are still awake.”

“Sorry.”

“Why sorry?”

“I probably woke you.”

“You did.”

“Sorry.”

Ilya sighed. “Come.”

He opened his arms. Shane went willingly. Ilya held him. “What if I fuck this up?”

“You will.”

Shane pulled back. “What?”

“You will say something stupid because you are Shane. Then everyone will forget because something else stupid happens tomorrow.”

“That is terrible reassurance.”

“It worked.”

Shane laughed. “A little.”

Ilya kissed his forehead. “You do not owe them perfect version of gay person.”

Shane became quiet. “You don’t owe them brave. You don’t owe them inspiring. You don’t owe them explanation why you are gay.”

“Mom wrote talking points.” Shane’s mind was spinning out of control.

“Of course she did.”

“Six pages.”

“Burn them.”

“She’d kill us both.”

“Then memorize page one.”

Shane smiled.

Ilya touched his cheek. “Tell truth.”

“Which part?”

“That you are gay. You love hockey. You are happy. You have people who love you.”

Shane looked into his eyes. “And you?”

Ilya hesitated. “If you want.”

“I want.”

Ilya nodded. “Then tell them there is someone.”

“You’re sure?”

“No.”

Shane laughed. “Ilya.”

“I am sure I want life with you. I am not sure I want twenty cameras asking what underwear I wear.”

“They won’t ask that.”

“You don’t know Canadian journalism.”

Shane kissed him. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Walking back into my life every time you tried to leave.”

Ilya smiled. “You are very difficult to escape.”

“Good.”

There were twenty-seven cameras. Shane counted them. That was too many fucking cameras. The Metros logo filled the wall behind the table. The general manager spoke first, then Coach. Both made it clear Shane Hollander had the full support of the Montreal Metros organization. His sexuality did not change his position on the team. It did not change his prospects or anything about the player they had drafted.

Then Shane sat down at the microphones. Flashes exploded. His heart hammered. His mother sat just out of frame. She smiled at him. His father was beside her. And somewhere across the city, Ilya and Sveta were watching together. Shane leaned towards the microphones.

“Hi.”

A few journalists laughed softly. Great start.

“I, um…” He took a breath. Fuck the six pages. “I asked for this press conference because there’s something about me that’s going to become public, and I wanted it to come from me.”

Silence.

“My name is Shane Hollander.” More nervous laughter. “Apparently you guys already know that.” More laughter, his shoulders relaxed. “I’m a centre for the Montreal Metros. Hockey is pretty much the only thing I’ve ever been exceptionally good at.”

That got another laugh.

“And I’m gay.” The room seemed to fall silent for a beat, then exploded with sound.

Questions.

Flashes.

Voices.

Shane sat back.

His chest rose and fell. There. Done. Impossible to take back. The world hadn’t ended.

The communications officer raised a hand. “Shane will make a full statement before questions.”

Everyone settled as Shane looked down at the notes and then ignored them. “I’ve known for a while.” His voice was steadier. “And I’ve been scared for a while.” He thought of being eighteen. Sitting alone after seeing Ilya. Thinking hockey players couldn’t be gay. “I didn’t think those two things could exist together. Being gay and playing professional hockey.”

He looked directly towards the cameras.

“Scott Hunter showing everybody that they can exist together made a difference to me. So did the support I’ve had privately from my family, my teammates and the Metros.” He swallowed. “I don’t want some kid watching hockey to have to look at the league and think there’s nobody like him here.” Yuna covered her mouth, David put an arm around her. “And I also don’t want to spend my life hiding.” Shane breathed. “So that’s it. I’m gay. I’m still the same player. I still plan to win a Cup. And, uh…” He smiled. “There is somebody in my life.”

The room erupted again.

Shane laughed. “Jesus.”

“Who is he?”

“How long?”

“Is he another player?”

“Was Scott Hunter involved in your decision?”

“Does the team know your partner?”

Shane lifted his hands. “Okay, okay.”

He looked towards the communications officer. She looked like she regretted every career decision that had brought her here.

Shane smiled. “He isn’t another player.”

Somebody shouted, “Is he an athlete?”

“No.”

“How long have you been together?”

Shane thought about it. “Almost two years.”

That caused another explosion. “Does he live in Montreal?”

“What’s his name?”

“Will we meet him?”

Shane’s smile became softer. “I’m not giving you his name today. He’s a private person and he didn’t sign up for this.”

Across Montreal, Ilya started crying. Sveta pretended not to notice. “But yes, I’m in a relationship. I’m very happy.”

A journalist near the front asked, “Would you say you’re in love?”

Shane’s face went hot. The whole room seemed to wait. He pictured Ilya. Leather, blue eyes. A cigarette glowing in a dark alley, a stranger calling him kitten, a man crying in his arms. A terrified boy inside an enormous body who had asked Shane if belonging really felt like this.

Shane smiled. “Yeah.”

The cameras flashed. “Very much.”

The first day was horrible. The second was worse. The third began to change. There were headlines Shane hated.

GAY HOCKEY STAR.

HOLLANDER’S SECRET LIFE.

ICE KING COMES OUT.

One tabloid ran a speculative list of men Shane might be dating. Ilya found this hilarious.

“They think you are dating singer.”

“Apparently.”

“He is hot.”

“Do you want me to introduce you?”

“Maybe.”

“Asshole.”

There were comments,thousands of them. Some were vile. Shane made the mistake of reading them until Ilya eventually took his laptop away.

“You will stop.”

“But…”

“No.”

“I’m a grown man.”

“Currently you are grown man who voluntarily reads strangers calling him disgusting. Therefore you lose internet privileges.”

“You can’t confiscate my laptop.”

Ilya tucked it under his arm.

“I just did.”

Shane stared at him. “Give it back.”

“No.”

“Ilya.”

“No.”

Shane chased him around the apartment, Ending up with both of them laughing on the floor. Maybe that was when Shane realized he really was going to be okay. Because the comments existed, but so did this.

And outside the apartment, something else was happening. Fans began arriving at the Metros store asking for Hollander jerseys. The next home preseason game sold out. Someone organized hundreds of rainbow signs. When Shane skated onto the ice for warm-up, the roar was unlike anything he had ever heard.

He stopped for just a second.

Thousands of people were standing. His name rolled through the arena.

“HOLL-AN-DER!… HOLL-AN-DER… HOLL-AN-DER!”

Shane’s eyes filled. Hayden skated past and smacked him on the ass with his stick. “You gonna cry or play hockey?”

“Fuck off.”

“There’s our boy.”

J.J. skated to his other side. “You good?”

Shane looked into the stands. A kid near the glass held a sign.

THANK YOU SHANE.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

He really was.

The sponsors stayed. All of them. Yuna had a lot to do with that.

The Metros issued another statement when a radio host suggested Shane’s sexuality might make other players uncomfortable. The statement was four sentences long. The important one was: Shane Hollander is a valued member of this organization and has our complete support. His teammates repeated it in interviews.

Hayden went further. When someone asked whether Shane being gay changed the locker room atmosphere, Hayden stared at the reporter. “Why? You think he’s gonna suddenly realize the rest of us are ugly?” The clip was played everywhere.

J.J.’s answer was even simpler. “He’s Hollander. He’s our guy.”

Drapeau refused to comment. Nobody cared, that was what surprised Shane most. The people who didn’t support him suddenly seemed small. They had seemed enormous when he was hiding, monsters in shadows. Once the light was turned on, most of them were just assholes with opinions. Shane Hollander had spent too much of his life letting imaginary assholes decide whether he deserved to be happy.

No more.

Three weeks after the press conference there was a knock on Shane’s apartment door. Ilya frowned.

“Are we expecting?”

“No.”

“Could be murderer.”

“Why is that always your first thought?”

“Experience.”

Shane checked through the peephole.

Then smiled. “Open it.”

“I do not take orders.”

“Open the fucking door, Ilya.”

Ilya rolled his eyes and did. Yuna stood there with David beside her. Sveta behind them carrying a bottle of champagne.

“Surprise!” Yuna shouted.

Ilya jumped. “Blyat!”

Sveta laughed. “You frighten too easy, brother.”

“What are you doing here?”

Yuna walked straight past him. “Celebrating.”

“Celebrating what?”

David held up a newspaper. On the sports page was a photograph of Shane playing the previous night.

The headline read:

HOLLANDER SCORES HAT TRICK IN PRESEASON RETURN

Yuna beamed. “Turns out being gay didn’t make him forget hockey.”

Shane laughed. Ilya looked around the room.
Yuna.
David.
Sveta.
Shane.

His people. His ridiculous people. Something warm settled inside his chest, something calm and familiar. He knew this feeling now. Family.

Yuna caught him staring. “What?”

“Nothing.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re doing that thing.”

“What thing?”

“The emotional Russian thing.”

“I do not have emotional Russian thing.”

Sveta snorted. “You absolutely do.”

David took the champagne from her. “Ilya, glasses?”

Ilya pointed towards the kitchen. Then stopped. “No.”

Everyone looked at him. He smiled. “I get them.”

He walked into the kitchen. His kitchen too, increasingly. Because his books were on Shane’s shelves, his clothes were in Shane’s wardrobe, his toothbrush sat beside Shane’s.

The university timetable was stuck to the fridge. And there were four people in the living room waiting for him to return. He took five glasses from the cupboard. Then a sixth.

Just in case somebody else showed up.

That was what families seemed to do.

There was always room for one more.

Chapter End Notes

Chapter 22: Epilogue

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

One year later.

“I still say this apartment is too expensive.”

Shane looked up from the box he was unpacking. “You’ve lived here for eight months.”

“Yes. Eight months of thinking is too expensive.”

“You pay half the utilities.”

“Exactly. Financial ruin.”

Shane laughed. The apartment was chaos. Books everywhere. Ilya’s books mostly. Psychology, human sexuality, trauma, counseling theory, a truly terrifying textbook on statistics that Ilya had thrown across the room twice during the previous semester.

Shane’s hockey equipment occupied another corner. Two lives that should never have fit together somehow tangled across every surface. Ilya came into the room carrying another box.

“Where does this go?”

“What is it?”

“Your trophies.”

“Closet.”

“No.”

“Ilya.”

“No. You won these.”

“I don’t need them displayed.”

“You are captain now. Captain has trophies.”

Shane still hadn’t entirely processed that. Captain at twenty. The announcement had come after training three weeks earlier. Coach had handed him the jersey with the C stitched onto the chest and for a long moment Shane had simply stared. There had been a time when he’d believed that one truth about himself would destroy everything but instead he’d been named captain. The youngest in Metros history. His teammates had voted overwhelmingly in favor.

Hayden had hugged him and J.J. had poured an entire bottle of blue Gatorade over his head. Drapeau had been traded during the off-season, nobody mentioned it much. Shane later learned he hadn’t requested the trade. It didn’t matter,the room had moved on, the team had moved on, Shane had moved on.

He caught Ilya watching him.

“What?”

“You are doing emotional Canadian thing.”

“That’s not a thing.”

“It is now.”

Shane threw a cushion at him, Ilya caught it. He looked different now, not physically. He was still huge with blonde curls and ridiculously blue eyes. He was still capable of making Shane’s brain shut down with one look. But lighter. He’d completed his first year of psychology and was working part-time with a community organization supporting LGBTQ+ young people while continuing his degree, with plans to specialize in sex therapy after qualification.

He never went back to Secrets. Not for work, sometimes to visit with Jared. Once, Shane had asked whether he missed it. Ilya had thought for a while.

“Parts.”

“The sex?”

Ilya had shrugged. “No. Power maybe. Being useful. Knowing somebody needed something and I could give it.”

Shane understood. “You’ll get that as a therapist.”

“Yes.” Then Ilya had grinned. “Sex with clients would apparently be frowned upon.”

“Apparently?”

“Very strict rules.”

Shane had laughed. Ilya was thriving. Not perfectly. There were nights he still woke from dreams about Russia, there were days he received letters from university and automatically assumed they were throwing him out. He still sometimes waited for good things to disappear. But now, when that happened, there were people around him to remind him they weren’t going anywhere.

Sveta lived fifteen minutes away.

She had finally bought her own place and complained constantly that without her Ilya and Shane would starve.

Yuna and David visited often. Too often, according to Ilya when Yuna reorganized their kitchen. Not often enough, according to Ilya when David arrived with homemade food.

They had spent Christmas together, all five of them. On Christmas morning Yuna had handed Ilya a stocking, an actual stupid red stocking with his name embroidered across the top. He’d cried for twenty minutes,then denied it for the rest of the day.

Shane had photographs. For blackmail.

Now, on a warm summer evening, their apartment was half unpacked again because Shane had decided the living room needed new shelving. Mostly because Ilya’s books had multiplied like rabbits.

“Take break,” Ilya said.

“We need to finish.”

“No.”

“We’ve got people coming tomorrow.”

“They already know we are messy.”

“My Mom doesn’t.”

“Your mother believes cleaning is competitive sport.”

“True.”

Ilya took Shane’s hand. “Come.”

“Where?”

“Balcony.”

Shane allowed himself to be led outside. Montreal stretched beneath them,the city lights were beginning to come on. Traffic moved below. Somewhere in the distance, Shane could see the glow from the entertainment district. He rested his arms on the balcony railing, Ilya moved behind him and wrapped both arms around his waist.

Shane leaned back. “You know what’s weird?”

“Everything about you.”

“Asshole.”

“Yes.”

Shane smiled. He looked towards the city again. “I was thinking about the night we met.”
Ilya kissed his neck. “This is because you are sentimental Canadian.”

“Maybe.”

“You were very cute.”

“I was terrified.”

“You were cute and terrified.”

“I thought you were terrifying.”

“I was.”

“I thought you were like twenty-five.”

“This was insulting.”

“You looked like some evil Russian sex god.”

Ilya grinned against his neck. “I am Russian sex god.”

“You were wearing enough leather to upholster a car.”

“Very sexy car.”

Shane laughed, then fell quiet. They stood together. The skyline. The apartment behind them. Their apartment.

Home.

Shane turned in Ilya’s arms. “So…”

Ilya raised an eyebrow. “So?”

“If I hadn’t walked back to that club?”

Ilya studied him as Shane thought about it. One different cab ride. One moment of common sense. One decision to go home instead. No dark alley. No cigarette burning in the shadows. No piercing blue eyes. No strange Russian man warning him about his reputation. No room eight. No safe place to say the words for the first time. Because I like men. No Ilya. The thought hurt even now.

“What if I’d just gone home?” Shane asked quietly.

Ilya’s expression softened. “You almost did.”

“Yeah.”

“I almost let you.”

Shane blinked. “What?”

“I saw you outside before I spoke.”

“You did?”

“Yes.”

“How long?”

“Maybe minute.”

“You creepy fuck.”

Ilya laughed. “I thought, leave him alone. He is famous hockey player. He has nice life. He does not need complicated Russian sex worker.”

Shane’s heart tightened. “And then?”

“You looked at door.”

Ilya stroked his thumb over Shane’s cheek. “You looked so lost.”

“Stray kitten.”

“Yes.”

Shane smiled. “So if I hadn’t walked back?”

Ilya looked towards the distant city.

For a moment he appeared to genuinely consider the question.

Then he looked back at Shane. “I would have spent the rest of my life wondering about the beautiful stray kitten.”

Shane’s eyes burned. “You’re so fucking cheesy.”

“I learn from your mother.”

“Don’t tell her that.”

“Never.”

Shane slid his arms around Ilya’s neck. “I love you.”

“I know.”

“Say it back, asshole.”

Ilya grinned. “I love you, Shane Hollander.”

Shane kissed him, without fear of being seen. Somewhere below, thousands of people went about their lives. Some knew exactly who Shane Hollander was. Some knew he was gay. Some knew there was a beautiful Russian man frequently seen beside him at games, charity events and dinners. Some approved, some didn’t. It didn’t matter nearly as much as Shane had once believed.

Ilya’s hands settled at his waist. Shane’s fingers tangled into familiar curls. Their mouths parted, foreheads rested together. “Captain Hollander,” Ilya murmured.

“Future Doctor Rozanov.”

“Not doctor yet.”

“You will be.”

“Bossy.”

“You love it.”

Ilya smiled. “Yes.”

Behind them were boxes and textbooks and hockey sticks. Photographs covered one wall. Shane with his parents, Ilya and Sveta, all five of them at Christmas, Shane wearing the C for the first time. A photograph from the cottage, taken by David without either man noticing, of Ilya and Shane sitting together at the end of the dock, Ilya’s head resting on Shane’s shoulder, Shane’s hand over Ilya’s. No fear. No hiding. Just them.

There would be more photographs. More hockey seasons. More exams. Arguments. Victories. Losses. Probably far too many visits from Yuna. Definitely far too much vodka whenever David was around.

There would be difficult days. The world hadn’t magically become perfect because Shane Hollander told it he was gay. Russia still existed in Ilya’s nightmares. Homophobia still existed in hockey. Fear still occasionally whispered to both of them that everything could disappear. But fear didn’t make their decisions anymore. They did.

Shane looked at the man he had once been too frightened even to admit he found beautiful. Ilya looked at the boy he’d once thought he had no right to keep. Then Shane kissed him again beneath the Montreal sky and together they looked towards the future.

Their Future.

A life they had fought for.

A family they had found.

A home they had chosen.

Together.

Chapter End Notes

Afterword

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