Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warnings:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid

Relationships:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Troy Barrett/Harris Drover, Troy Barrett/Harris Drover/Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Additional Tags:

Post-Canon, Threesome - M/M/M, sort of foursome, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Gay Pride, the threesome Shane said would never happen, Come Sharing, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Porn with Feelings, Porn With Plot, Beautiful Shane Hollander, Written before Heated Rivalry (TV), Soft Dom Ilya Rozanov, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Married Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Exhibitionist Shane Hollander, ilya rozanov loves

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2025-06-08 Completed: 2025-06-13 Words: 11,857 Chapters: 3/3

putting on a show

Summary

Ilya is captivated watching Troy and Shane get closer and closer to each other on the dance floor. Harris leans up to press his mouth to Ilya’s ear to shout over the music. Harris sounds almost out of breath when he tells Ilya, “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but they are so hot together.”

Ilyas shoulders shake with laughter and he nods his head, keeping his eyes on his dancing husband and teammate. “Do you think they know they are putting on a show for us?”

Ilya is afraid of getting boring, so he arranges a night out during Pride in New York. Harris drunkenly reveals a fantasy he's been harboring, and Ilya wants to help. Smut ensues.

Notes

Started this because I've developed a curiosity about the idea of Shane/Troy, and wanted that damn threesome to happen. I didn't intend for the first chapter to become a reflection on coming out later in life, but it's Pride month and here we are.

Explicit rating is for chapters 2 & 3.

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Late May

Ilya lies in a hammock, watching Shane tossing a ball to Anya, and knows his life was as close to perfect as a life could get. But something has been lingering in the back of his mind, a little fear that gets louder in quiet moments like this. He’s getting old, and worse, he’s getting boring.

He loves their now-comfortable routine during the hockey season and their summers at the cottage. Settling into domestic married life with his husband and dog, their sensible cars, and talking about kids in the future was everything Ilya never thought he’d have. But he often feels pangs of nostalgia for his old lifestyle, especially as every year brought him closer to 40 — basically at death’s door for a professional athlete. 

He’s definitely glad he had as much sex as he did, because he knows with certainty that it doesn’t get any better than fucking Shane. But has a tinge of regret that he didn’t get to experience any of his wild years with Shane by his side. What would it have been like to be together and out in their twenties? 

Ilya wonders if Shane hadn’t spent so many of his formative years under such severe scrutiny, maybe he would have been less afraid of his own sexuality. Ilya had always been comfortable being bi, even when it was mostly a secret. Like he told Galina early on, the safety of also liking women made it easier to accept liking men, and it made him feel evolved. 

He hadn’t shied away from gay clubs in his first few years in the US. He wasn’t often recognized, especially outside of Boston, and he never actually hooked up with guys from clubs. He just enjoyed the rush, the press of hard bodies against his own, the unabashed way men would proposition him. 

Ilya knows that Shane would never have been nearly as wild and, let’s face it, slutty, as Ilya, even without the burden of being Canada’s favorite son. He knows they have to ascribe to certain heteronormative expectations for the public eye even now. But he wishes Shane felt a little more at ease being publicly gay and spending time with other queer people outside of hockey. 

Maybe he needed one last hurrah, this time with Shane.

Ilya was so lost in thought, he was shocked to see Shane’s face smiling above him, blocking out the sun.

“Hey, is everything okay? I was calling your name, but you were just staring off into space,” Shane asks. 

“Yes, just thinking,” Ilya shrugs.

“Uh oh, that can’t be good,” Shane teases.

Ilya gracefully rises from the hammock and places his hands on his husband’s hips. 

“What if we stopped in New York before going to Vegas for the NHL awards in June?”

It was late May, and the Centaurs had been knocked out of the playoffs in the 2nd round against Toronto. But Wyatt Hayes was being awarded for allowing the fewest goals of any goalie this season, and most of the team was planning to be there to support him. 

“What for?”

“Well…” Ilya didn’t want to make this a big deal and freak Shane out. “June is Pride month, and I was thinking, maybe we could do something to celebrate this year. We have been out for a couple of years now, and I do not know. I want to show off a little. I am proud of you, proud of us.”

Shane nervously bites his lip, but at Ilya’s last words, he could see Shane nerves melt into heart eyes, and Ilya internally high-fives himself.

“And we can invite Troy and Harris!” Ilya is excited now. “I know Harris has always wanted to go to New York Pride.”

Ilya knows Shane will feel a little more comfortable with friends around. 

“I might regret this,” Shane hedged. “But okay. Let’s do it.”

************

June

That is how the four of them end up at the Kingfisher, NYC’s unofficial, but kind of official, gay hockey bar a few weeks later.

Ilya watches with delight as Shane indulges in a third drink — one they had named after him for their Pride month specials menu celebrating queer athletes. Shane had blushed and insisted they should take it off the menu, but Ilya knows the flattery is lighting Shane up inside, and he keeps ordering them for him. Maybe not the best idea, Kyle can be counted on for a heavy pour. He should probably get Shane to pace himself. Ilya slides a large cup of water over to Shane with a nudge.

Shane is currently leaning into Troy, giggling drunkenly at some joke Ilya had missed, likely at his expense. Shane’s nose is scrunching in that adorable way that crinkles up the freckles on his cheek and melts Ilya’s heart. He’s glad Troy and Shane have become good friends, even though their friendship is largely based around a shared fixation on fitness and nutrition and optimizing their on-ice performance. They really are kindred spirits, when Ilya thinks about it. Boring kindred spirits, but kindred spirits nonetheless.

At that moment, Harris appears back at the table after a long conversation he’d been having with Kyle at the bar, “We’re going dancing!”

“We... are?” Troy asks skeptically.

“Yes!” Harris points at Troy, eyes sparkling. “It’s Pride month, it’s New York City, and I demand dancing! I insist that you whisk me to the dance floor and make out with me in a sea of sweaty men!” Harris is clearly on the drunker side of tipsy himself.

“Well, when you put it that way,” Troy chuckles. “How can I argue?”

“Shane and Ilya, you’re coming with us!”

Shane furrows his brow, “Um, uh, I don’t know about that, Harris...”

“You haaaaave to!” Harris slaps both hands on the table for emphasis. “You need to experience a gay club in New York at least once in your life. You need to get in touch with your gay roots!”

“Wouldn’t my gay roots be in Canada? How is a gay club here different from in Toronto?”

“Why, have you been to many gay clubs in Toronto?” Ilya teases. Shane just glares at him.

“Shane.” Harris stretches across the table to grip both of Shane’s hands in his, like this is suddenly a very serious and solemn heart to heart. “This is New York. Stonewall! Paris is Burning! Club kids! Queer history in New York is sooooo important. You need a better queer education,” Harris heaves a dramatic sigh. 

Shane protests, “I know about Stonewall, I’m not totally ignorant!”

“Okay, but how many Lady Gaga songs do you know? Or Beyonce songs? Or Diana ROSS?” Harris yells, pointing again.

“I know Single Ladies…?” Shane shrugs.

Ilya and Troy both burst out laughing at that. Shane’s trying, bless him.

Harris sighs dramatically and turns to Ilya, “Your husband is ignorant of our patron saints.”

Ilya shrugs with a chuckle, “He only knows hockey patron saints.”

“Well, I’m not taking no for an answer,” Harris insists. 

Shane drops his forehead to the table, and huffs out, “Fine! But let it be known that I am going to the club under duress.”

On the walk over to the club Kyle recommended, Harris pulls Ilya to lag behind Shane and Troy, and they whisper conspiratorially. If Shane had had one less drink, this might worry him. But in his current drunken state, he can’t spare much focus on anything besides putting one foot in front of the other while Troy navigates them down the sidewalk.

Shane is unexpectedly excited about the way their night is going, and he’s relieved that Troy also seems excited to head to a club. Shane appreciates having a teammate other than Ilya who can relate to the struggles of having been a closeted NHL player. He and Troy have had some really nice conversations about their experiences, though it sounded like Troy had it much harder with his overbearing, homophobic father. 

He looks back at Ilya and feels his heart flip-flop. He’s grateful that Ilya orchestrated this trip, and doesn’t want to take it for granted that his husband may have really needed this. Tonight, during Pride month, in what Harris had called “the gayest city in the world,” with several drinks under his belt, and his hot husband grinning at him, Shane feels a buzz of happiness. 

When they get to the club, Harris takes the lead. 

“Let’s do one shot and then hit the dance floor!” 

Shane doesn’t know if another drink is the best idea, but he supposes he should let Harris be his guide — he has far more experience with these kinds of things.

After dancing for a few songs, Shane is delighted to realize he’s actually really enjoying himself. His uncertainty about coming here was rooted in this underlying fear Shane has — that he’s a fraud, he isn’t gay enough. Yes, he’s gay, and yes he was married to a man, but this doesn’t really feel like his community , not the way hockey does. 

Shane is at his most confident on the ice, he knows exactly where he belongs and what he’s doing there. His teammates, and even his opponents, respect his skills and longevity in the game. He knows what to expect and how to navigate the hockey world, and it’s gotten easier again now that the scandal around him and Ilya has faded somewhat. 

But the queer community is still so foreign to Shane. He honestly doesn’t really have time during the season to think about anything but hockey, and in the summers we wanted to retreat, focus on relaxing and training, and spend quality time with Ilya and his friends and parents.

So in the club tonight, Shane feels like he is visiting an alternate timeline — this may have been his community if his life had gone a different direction. Maybe if he hadn’t dedicated his life to hockey so young, he would have come to terms with his sexuality much earlier. Maybe he would have made gay friends as a teen, worn rainbow flag pins like Harris, and had a bunch of boyfriends and hookups before settling down.

Right now, surrounded by other queer people, dancing, living their best lives, and being unapologetically open, Shane feels like maybe this could be his community now, maybe it isn’t too late. 

He smiles at their little group and shouts, “This is fun! Thanks for making us come here, Harris!”

Harris just grins at him and continues grinding on Troy, who has his eyes closed and hands on Harris’ hips. They are clearly in their own little world at this point.

Ilya squeezes Shane closer to him and Shane leans up to shout into his ear, “I am proud to be here with you! I love you!” 

Ilya kisses him sloppily, tongues everywhere, and Shane can’t be bothered to be self-conscious, not here. It’s intoxicating to feel this free. (And freeing to be this intoxicated.)

After a couple of songs, Harris and Ilya call out to say they’re going to get more drinks, leaving Shane and Troy on their own in the thrumming crowd. When Shane sees Iyla and Harris making their way back from the bar, he’s confused when they don’t return to the dance floor. Instead they find a railing to lean on and sip their drinks, eyes on Shane and Troy. 

Shane’s expression is unsure as he glances at Ilya, making eye contact with a questioning look. Ilya just winks at him, gestures with his hands for Shane to keep dancing, and mouths “have fun!” which buoys Shane enough to shrug his shoulders and turn back toward Troy on the dance floor. Troy jumps a little as the music changes to another song Shane doesn’t know, but clearly everyone else does.

Troy is definitely veering into wasted territory, grasping Shane’s biceps for balance while he jumps up and down, yelling, “I love this song!” 

Shane leans forward in a laugh, “I never heard this song before!” 

They giggle together, bouncing and bumping into each other kind of sloppily, Shane’s hands now on Troy’s waist to steady them both. The hum of the thumping bass vibrates through Shane’s body, combining with the alcohol streaming through his veins and the novel sense of acceptance he feels in this club, with men holding each other, dancing, making out, and doing god knows what else all around them. He feels light and silly, much younger than his 33 years, and his inhibitions are tamped down. He’s sweaty and exhilarated in a familiar yet very different way from how he feels after a game-winning goal.

Without really thinking, he pulls Troy in by his waist and starts swaying them together. Troy drapes his arms over Shane’s shoulders and rolls his head back with a happy sigh, clearly letting the energy of the song and the club wash over him. 

Shane tries to ignore how good Troy’s body feels under his hands and pressed up against his hips. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows this is weird, but he also knows Ilya and Harris wanted them to let loose, shed their shame, and have fun just being gay men during Pride month. So he shrugs off any weird feelings and allows himself to let go and let the music and the crowd of sweaty men take over his senses completely.

****

Ilya is captivated watching Troy and Shane get closer and closer to each other on the dance floor. Harris leans up to press his mouth to Ilya’s ear to shout over the music. Harris sounds almost out of breath when he tells Ilya, “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but they are so hot together.”

Ilyas shoulders shake with laughter and he nods his head, keeping his eyes on his dancing husband and teammate. “Do you think they know they are putting on a show for us?”

Ilya sees Harris blush deeply, yet he doesn’t pull his eyes away from Shane and Troy, now practically grinding against each other. 

“No way,” Harris shakes his head, giggling. “Troy must be suuuper drunk, he would be way too embarrassed to get that close to Shane if he wasn’t. I know he used to have a crush on Shane, but between us, I don’t think it ever went away.”

“I knew it!” Ilya laughed again. “Well that is only fair, I have suspected Shane has a crush on Troy since he came to Ottawa.”

Harris finally turns his head toward Ilya and laughs loudly, “I guess it’s a good thing they met us before they met each other!”

“Yes, but it would not have mattered,” Ilya smirks. “They would have both been in the closet forever without us.”

“Omg you’re so right,” Harris laughs even harder, bending over with intense giggles. Then his gaze drifted back to their partners, smiling fondly, with unmistakable heat in his eyes. 

His next words fell from his mouth in a drunken tumble, “It’s like a total fantasy of mine to watch Troy with someone else. He’s only ever been with one other guy.”

A charged moment passes between them while Ilya considers this confession, eyes wide.

“Oh god, I can’t believe I just told you that,” Harris turns to Ilya, hands holding his face, Home Alone-style. “I’m so so sorry. That is probably waaaay too much information. I really need to learn to shut the fuck up when I’m drunk, I’m so sorry… please forget I said that.” he trails off in embarrassment. 

But Ilya, still gazing out at the dancefloor, just hums distantly, “It is okay. I understand.”

“You do?” Harris asks, almost in disbelief.

“Yes. Shane has very little experience with other men.” Ilya is suddenly somber. “I worry that he might want more someday. Or have regrets.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Harris nods. “I feel the same about Troy sometimes. He says he doesn’t need or want anyone else, and I believe him, but I have been with a lot more guys than he has… oh god, I’m oversharing again.”

Ilya chews his lip, his eyes blazing as they track Shane and Troy, still pressed against each other. Without looking at Harris, he says, “Maybe we can do something about it.”

Before Harris can say anything else, the song abruptly changes to Pink Pony Club and the whole club roars and practically shakes. Ilya and Harris see the moment Shane and Troy must have been jolted out of their drunken haze, realizing how close they were. Their bodies snap apart and they simultaneously turn their heads away from each other to look for their partners. The show apparently over, Ilya nudges Harris and said with a coy smile and said, “Let’s dance.”

Late August

Harris: Do you remember our conversation at the club in NYC?

Ilya: About your sex fantasies? 😉

Harris: lol… yeah…

Ilya: I remember

Harris: Did you ever talk to Shane about it?

Ilya: No. Did you want me to?

Harris: Well, I did talk to Troy about it. And he was like… into the idea you kind of suggested. 

Ilya: …

…

…

…

Ilya: I will talk to Shane.

Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Chapter Summary

Ilya tells Shane about his conversation with Harris at the club, and after his initial shock, might just be convinced to let Troy and Harris into their bedroom.

Chapter Notes

“Why do we have so much stuff?” Shane complains as he flops backwards onto their bed, arms wide, legs dangling to the floor. 

They had arrived in Ottawa the previous day, after their summer at the cottage, to start settling in for the next 10 months. After hours of unpacking and getting the house in order, they’re both exhausted. Their brief adventure into New York City nightlife is now just a fun memory, and Shane has begun shifting his mindset back to in-season levels of focus and determination. 

After some lazy shower blowjobs — they are too tired for anything else — Shane burrows into Ilya’s neck, ready for sleep. He’s starting to drift off, Ilya running his hands through his hair and lulling him to sleep, when Ilya casually asks, “Remember that time I joked about having a threesome with Barrett and you said it would be a good Christmas gift for him…?”

“Uh, kinda. Not really…”

“When I took him to Scott Hunter’s bar for the first time and he came out to me.”

“Like years ago? I don’t know, vaguely. Wasn’t that before he was with Harris?”

“Yes. And before we were married and before you and Troy became boring besties.”

“We’re not boring,” Shane huffs. “And we’re not besties . It’s just nice to have someone to work out with who takes nutrition seriously and isn’t going to give me a hard time about caring about my health. But you’re my best friend, Ilya.”

“And bonding over nutrition isn’t boring?” Ilya nudges him with his hip.

“Shut up, I’m trying to be nice to you, jerk.” Shane sighs and wraps his arm around Ilya and pulls him closer. “Come here.”

Ilya has brought up Shane’s friendship with Troy a few times recently, and it makes Shane a little uneasy, but he can’t place why. Is Ilya jealous or something? 

Shane leans over Ilya and starts peppering him with kisses, trying to stop whatever this conversation is that he’s trying to start. He’s tired and Ilya is being weird. But as their kisses get deeper, Shane’s mind keeps wandering back to Ilya’s question and curiosity gets the better of him. 

He pulls his head away from Ilya and asks, “Why do you keep bringing up me and Troy being friends?”

“I have just been noticing, you are becoming close. You had a very good time at the club in New York together.”

Shane blushes, remembering getting a little carried away that night. To be fair, he had a lot to drink, and Ilya had basically forced him to dance alone with Troy when he left the dance floor with Harris. And Troy had kind of flung himself onto Shane. Shane didn’t want to admit to himself that he had thought about that heated moment with Troy a few more times than was probably appropriate in the following weeks. 

“You and Harris just left us alone!” Shane protests. 

“Sweetheart, I don’t mind, it is good you are close. I want you to have friends here. And I love Harris and Chiron. It works out for me,” Ilya placates. 

But Shane is feeling defensive now, and instead of letting go, he leans into an argument. 

“Well, you and Harris are the besties. What were you even talking about while me and Troy were dancing anyway?”

“We were talking about sexual fantasies.”

Shane balks at him, “What? Why??”

“It is a perfectly normal thing to talk about. Gay men are not usually so prudish.” Ilya pokes him in his side.

“I’m not a prude!” Shane protests, slapping away Ilya’s hand. Ilya hums as if to say, sure, honey, you keep telling yourself that. ”I just don’t share my sexual fantasies with coworkers , jeez.”

“So you do not want to know Harris’s sexual fantasy?” Ilya nudges.

“No!” Shane says with another slap to Ilya’s chest. A quiet moment passes and then he continues, “I mean, I guess I’m curious.” He was now very curious, but didn’t want to pry too much. “But don’t tell me if he wouldn’t want you to.”

“He wants me to tell you.”

Wait, what?

Shane furrows his brows. Why would Harris possibly want Shane to know about his sexual fantasy? Why would he have told Ilya in the first place? This must be some sort of workplace HR violation. But Shane just stays silent, failing to understand where Ilya is going with all of this, but too morbidly curious to shut the conversation down.

“He told me his fantasy is to watch Troy with someone else.” Ilya smirks.

Shane has been blushing for this entire conversation, but at this, his face goes very deep red, his eyes wide as he turns his head to make eye contact with Ilya with an expression that says “what the actual fuck?"  

And okay, Shane knows this is a pretty common thing, he’s been in enough hotel rooms with hockey players to hear every cuck chair joke you can think of. And obviously Troy is very attractive, so why wouldn’t Harris… wait! No. Shane does not think Troy is attractive. Definitely not.

He realizes that Ilya is still talking.

“And I told him that was an understandable fantasy.”

What?

“Troy apparently likes this fantasy too. Harris texted me about it this week.”

WHAT?!

“Oh. And I told him about your crush on Troy.”

“WHAT???” This time Shane says it aloud, and lurches out of Ilya’s arms so he is sitting straight up in bed. “Why would you tell Harris that I have a crush on his fiance?! Which I DO NOT, by the way!”

“You do.” Ilya says it casually, with a shrug. 

“I don’t!! What are you talking about!?” Shane is going to die of embarrassment. Why the hell does Ilya think he has a crush on Troy? And what could have possessed him to TELL Harris about it?

“You have said multiple times how good looking he is, always commenting on how much he can bench press. You are always laughing at his jokes. And Troy is not that funny.” 

“That doesn’t mean I have a crush! I care about his workouts for hockey reasons. And like, we’re friends, am I not supposed to think my friends are funny?”

“Shane, it is okay,” Ilya placatingly rubs the back of Shane’s arm, trying to get him to lie back down. “I do not mind. I know it does not mean anything. Again, queer men are not usually so bothered by these things. You can look at other men, I know you are always coming home with me.”

“Oh my god, Ilya. I can never look either of them in the eye again.” Shane is fully freaking out now, his hands pressed to his eyes as panics. “I have to change teams again. I have to move. I have to retire! I can never see Harris OR Troy ever again. This is so embarrassing. WHY did you tell Harris I’m into Troy?”

“Because Troy has a crush on you too.”

“This conversation is not happening right now.” Shane is frozen in a combination of mortification and anger. “We are MARRIED. They are ENGAGED. It sounds like you want me to have a crush on Troy.”

Ilya wonders if this wasn’t the right time to bring this up, but soldiers ahead, because, well, they’re in it now. Ilya waits a few moments for Shane to take some calming breaths before he says, “I was just thinking…” he makes his voice as silky and sexy as possible, “...maybe we could help Harris out with his little fantasy.”

“Ilya. No. No way. I said no threesomes, and I meant it. Are you crazy? Wait, I know the answer. Yes. Yes, you are crazy.”

“It would technically be a foursome. Although Harris would just be watching, I think.”

“Oh my god, you keep saying so many words, why are you saying these words? ” Shane flops down hard back on the bed, causing the blankets to puff up around him. Ilya traces his fingers up Shane’s arm and leans over him.

“Just think about it. It could be fun! You could show off everything I have taught you over the years.” Ilya nudges him with a wink and Shane rolls his eyes dramatically. 

“I don’t need to think about it, Ilya.” Shane insists with a sigh. 

Ilya lets the silence sit, and knows he might actually have a chance of this happening when Shane asks, “And how do you know they would even want that with us ?”

“Harris would not have mentioned it to me if that is not what he is thinking. His fantasy is to watch Barrett with someone else. And Barrett will do whatever Harris wants. He can’t say no to Harris.” Ilya waggles his eyebrows. “Plus, he has a big gay crush on you, remember?”

Ilya knows he probably shouldn’t have said that last part.

Several moments pass in silence while Shane covers his face with his hands again and thoughts race through his mind. He steadies his breathing and tries to think of how he can ever return to practice and see Troy and Harris without dying of humiliation. And wondering why he married the infuriating man next to him.

He reluctantly admits to himself that the idea of being watched is intriguing. It has come up many times with Ilya over the years, and it’s thrilling to think about in the heat of the moment, but he wouldn’t actually enjoy being watched, would he? He definitely doesn’t want to be with anyone other than Ilya, right? Especially not a teammate. While his teammate’s fiance watches, oh my god. 

But Shane can’t ignore the blood rushing to his cock, which is betraying his rational brain right now. He thinks back to holding Troy’s toned waist in the club that night, the way his hard body felt moving against Shane’s. The more he thinks about it, the more terrified he is of how turned on he was in that moment. This is undoubtedly a terrible idea. But Shane’s sexual history makes it pretty clear that terrible, risky ideas really do it for him. And he has to admit, those did work out in the long run.

Ilya interrupts his confusing runaway train of thought. “If you do not want to, we can drop it. I can tell Harris it was a joke and nevermind.”

Shane sighs heavily. He can’t believe he is even considering it, but he looks at Ilya seriously and asks, “Do you want to?”

“I do not need to, if you do not want to. But I think it could be fun.” Ilya hums in thought. “And I think you would like it. And I would enjoy you liking it, you know? Probably a lot.”

“Oh yeah? And it’s not because you want to fuck Troy? Maybe you’re the one with a crush.”

“Pfft,” Ilya scoffs. “I have the best, I do not need Troy Barrett,” he says with disdain. “After fucking you, he would be so jealous of me . More than he already is.” Ilya winks at Shane.

Shane blushes, and his heart does that flip-flop thing it does when Ilya compliments him like this. He loves how much Ilya loves him, how Ilya is still so into him after all these years. And he thinks he is starting to understand — Ilya likes the idea of showing Shane off. And that makes Shane feel all tingly inside. 

Shane is getting hard — at the thought of Ilya fucking him while Troy and Harris admire them, and at the thought of Ilya claiming as his own, forever, leaving them envious. Shane surprises himself with how little jealousy he feels, and he is honestly touched by Ilya’s confident lack of jealousy as well. 

“So like… If I did want to do this… and that is a very big IF… how would it work?”

Ilya turns to him seriously, “Well, first you and I should set some ground rules and boundaries. What we do want to do, what we definitely do not want to do. We should go into it knowing what we are comfortable with beforehand. And then we talk about it with them, make sure we are all on the same page, find out what are their boundaries.”

Shane nods slowly, “I guess that makes sense.”

“I promise, if you feel uncomfortable, or want to change your mind at any time, it is okay. No one will be upset.” 

“And this doesn’t make us sexual deviants?” Shane worries his lip as he brings his biggest fear about all of this to light.

“Maybe it does, but what is so wrong with that?” Ilya pulls Shane on top of him and grinds his hips up into Shane’s ass as he says this. “You love to be a slut for me, why not be a slut for them just this one time?”

Shane groans, with arousal, but also with resignation. Ilya has him and he knows it. 

“I can tell you like this idea,” Ilya purrs as he lightly grasps the outline of Shane’s hard dick in his shorts.

Shane groans again, this time only with arousal.

“You want to show off this beautiful cock, don’t you sweetheart?” Ilya pulls down Shane’s shorts and takes Shane in his hand, using the precome already there to stroke him lightly. “Want to show them how dripping wet you get for me?”

Shane leans back and closes his eyes, grinding his ass down onto Ilya’s now-hard dick.

Ilya continues to stroke. “Want to see Troy’s face when he feels the way your ass rubs down on him, so eager to open up for a cock? See how jealous Troy is when he realizes I get this perfect ass to myself every day?”

Shane wants to say no, wants to deny it, but with each filthy suggestion, he only gets harder and more desperate.

“Or do you want to take Troy in your pretty little mouth, save your ass just for me, and let him see on my face how good it feels to slide into you?” Ilya ruts his hips up again and Shane whispers “yessss” lightly, eliciting a dark chuckle from Ilya.

“We’ll fill you up so good," Ilya purrs, “You can take it, can’t you, moy lyubimiy?” 

Ilya is stroking him faster now, and Shane’s grinding hard down onto Ilya’s cock, jutting out of his shorts between Shane’s cheeks.

“Please,” Shane gasps. “Ilya, more.”

“They will know how much you can take, how good you are at taking all of me. Show Harris who is the best at taking a cock.”

Shane knows he’s blushing deeply, but it’s also so good .

“Ilya, fuck, I’m going to come already.”

“Yes, Shane, you love it.” Ilya strokes him faster, reaching out with his other hand to caress Shane’s balls. “Do not hold back, it’s okay, come for me.”

“Tell me more,” Shane lets out a begging whine.

“Are you going to let Troy come down your throat? Show him how good you are at swallowing a load?”

Another whine from Shane, his hips moving faster now.

“Or will you keep it in your mouth to show Harris how much cum you can get out of Troy?”

“Fuck fuck fuck.”

Shane unloads over Ilya’s chest in a sudden burst, shuddering and grinding down harder than ever, and he hears Ilya get breathless.

“Yes, fuck Shane, so good for me.”

Ilya goes stiff and Shane feels his dick twitch a few times under his ass, coming inside his shorts.

“Shit, I didn’t think you were that close.” Shane breaths out as he comes down from his sudden orgasm. 

“I did not either,” Ilya huffs a laugh. “I guess we want this more than I thought.”

“Our dicks certainly do.”

Shane moves to get off the bed to get a cloth to clean Ilya up, but Ilya grabs his wrist to pull him back toward the bed. “Should I text Harris?"

Shane thinks he should probably wait for the post-nut clarity to set in before answering, but fuck it. Ilya enjoyed that as much as he did, and that tips the scales for Shane.

“Yeah. Go ahead, before I change my mind.”

Ilya beams at him.

Chapter End Notes

Thanks for reading!

Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Chapter Summary

Presenting: The Threesome Shane Said Would Never Happen (bonus guest starting Harris)

Chapter Notes

Updated the tags because this now includes a little bit of come play (whoops where did that come from), and I feel like that deserves a warning.

I originally intended to do more POV switching, but I just really got into Shane's head and rolled with it!

Shane decides it needs to happen before October, because he can’t have the fear/anticipation of their three/foursome looming over him when the season starts. He’ll need to focus, and currently, the thought of their impending “sex party” as Ilya has taken to calling it to tease Shane, is occupying about 80% of his brain. And most of that preoccupation is anxiety, with undercurrents of horniness, but yeah, mostly anxiety. 

In the week between finalizing plans with Harris and Troy and the actual date they set — this upcoming Friday — Shane has pestered Ilya with a range of fears and anxieties, some more reasonable than others. Things like…

...

“Do you think the guys on the team will be able to tell we all… you know…?”

“No, Shane, unless you act super weird around Troy and Harris and give them a reason to wonder why you are acting super weird. Well, weirder than usual.”

“Hey!”

...

“What if we accidentally leave a phone camera on and accidentally record the whole thing and it gets leaked?”

“How would that even happen?”

“I don’t know, it could! We didn’t think Hayden would accidentally record us on his fan mail video!”

“Fine, we will all leave our phones in another room.”

...

“What if Troy isn’t actually into me and he can’t get hard? That would be humiliating.”

“That is scientifically impossible. I’m surprised he’s not hard any time you’re in the locker room together.”

Shane blushed at that last one, but it did ease his worries a little.

...

Ilya is getting so annoyed with Shane’s incessant questions by Thursday that he sits Shane down on the couch that afternoon to talk. Holding Shane’s hands in his lap he gently says, “You know we do not have to go through with it, right? We can cancel.”

“I don’t want to cancel.” Shane persists defiantly.

“Shane, you have done nothing but worry and come up with ways it can go wrong all week.” 

“I just need to process my feelings verbally, so I can move through them.”

Ilya should never have insisted Shane find his own therapist.

“I promise you that Troy and Harris will not care or judge you for changing your mind.” Ilya placates, rubbing his hands up and down Shane’s arms. “Do not do something you do not want to do just to prove you are not boring or something.”

“Isn’t that why you started this whole thing?” Now Shane is getting annoyed and poking at the insecurities he knows Ilya is harboring.

“No,” Ilya insists. “I will never be boring. Even when I’m 100 years old.”

Shane scoffs, then turns sincere. “I am anxious, but I’m in it now. I have spent too much mental energy on worrying about this, I need to just get it over with and enjoy it, and be done with it.”

“Okay,” Ilya sighs. “But promise you will tell me if you change your mind.”

“I promise."

Shane goes to bed with butterflies in his stomach, but he thinks they might actually be excited butterflies, not anxious ones. Maybe a little of both.

***

Promptly at 3pm the next afternoon, their doorbell rings, and Ilya and Shane go to greet their guests together. Troy and Harris are there, with Chiron in tow. The former is rocking back and forth on his feet, hands in pockets, eyes darting around, looking anywhere but at the two men holding the door open. The latter seems much calmer, holding Chrion’s leash and smiling his usual broad smile, then reaching down to pet Anya as she runs up to greet her canine friend. 

“Troy, Harris,” Ilya says with a nod and small smile, then he too bends down to dog-level, grinning and ruffling Chiron’s large furry face. “Hi Chiron, who is the second best dog in the world? Yes, you are!” 

While their respective partners are wrapped up with the dogs, Shane finally manages to catch Troy’s eye, offering an encouraging, if not slightly awkward smile, and raising his eyebrows in a way that says, “I guess we’re really doing this, huh?”

Troy lets out a silent huff of a laugh with a nod that replies, “Yep, and I’m just as surprised that you and I agreed to this as you are.”

With these small gestures, Shane feels the bubble of nerves in his stomach start to deflate a little, and he snaps into host mode.

“Why don’t you guys come in?” He steps back from the doorway. “We figured the dogs could keep each other company while we, um…yeah.”

Harris chuckles, “Thanks for having us, Chiron is so excited to play with Anya, aren’t you buddy?”

The dogs have already bounded into the living room, settling down in front of the fireplace on the furry rug there, each happily chewing a toy.

With greetings out of the way, the awkward tension hangs in the air like a fog. They can all feel it. Harris is the first to speak.

“I brought some Drover cider over,” he holds up a 6-pack in the hand that wasn’t holding a leash. “Maybe we could all have a drink and just chat for a bit?”

Thank god for Harris being normal right now. 

“Yeah, that’s a great idea. Let’s all go down to the den in the basement.”

Ilya had initially proposed their bedroom as the location for the… action. But Shane felt weird about that. Like, if things went badly, he wouldn’t ever be able to be comfortable in his bed again. And he really loved their bed.

Ilya then said they should use one of their guest rooms, the one that also had a king-size bed, but Shane shot that down too. “That’s where my parents sleep when they stay over! I can’t do… that… in their bed.”

So they decided to use the downstairs den, which had a few oversized, comfy couches and chairs in front of a second fireplace. Shane reasoned they’d had sex there enough times at this point to know it was feasible, and he figured they could just get a new couch if Shane needed to purge the memories. 

The group heads down and settles, each couple taking one of the couches. Harris hands out ciders and cuddles up close to Troy.

“Harris, maybe you could put on some music? We have bluetooth speakers.” Ilya suggests.

“Oh sure! I think I probably have a playlist that would be the right vibe.” He taps his phone and the sound of a sensual violin comes from the speakers on either side of the room. 

“Oh, yeah, there’s a lot of Fabian Salah on this one,” Harris laughs lightly. “Is that weird?”

“Maybe we just don’t tell Ryan about it.” Troy laughs, with a blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Um, yeah, definitely not.” Shane says emphatically. “I think we traumatized him enough the two times he walked in on me and Ilya kissing.”

They all laugh, and the tension starts to ease again.

“And, actually, um, could we like, not tell anyone about this?” Shane stammers out. “Not that I’m, like, ashamed or anything, but you know, maybe it would just be better to keep this between us?”

“Oh my god, yes, totally,” Harris nods. 

“Of course,” Ilya and Troy both echo. 

Shane lets out a sigh of relief. “So, uh, how was the rest of your summer?”

They fall into a comfortable conversation about their summers. Harris and Troy talk about the trip they took to a spa in California wine country — apparently spas are their thing — and Shane and Ilya share what they got up to at the cottage.

“And, of course, I’m still on my summer training schedule, so yeah, a lot of working out, as usual.”

“Yeah, you look really good.” Troy chimes in, and then immediately blushes furiously. Shane does too. 

But Ilya laughs and reaches his leg out to nudge Troy’s foot with his own. “He does look good. Is okay to say. Why we are here, right?”

Troy lets out a little breathy “yeah” and Harris’s pupils dilate in anticipation.

“Why don’t you go over to Troy,” Ilya taps Shane’s knee lightly. At the same time, Harris says something similar in Troy’s ear, so they both end up standing there between the couches. They’re face to face now, about a foot apart, looking shyly at each other, and then rapidly dropping their eyes every time they make eye contact. 

“Oh for god’s sake,” Ilya laughs. 

He gives Shane’s hip a pat and a light squeeze, and nudges him toward Troy. Shane sees Harris give Troy a small smile and wink. With these final gestures of permission and reassurance, they face each other, smiling tentatively. 

Troy is an inch or so shorter than Shane, his bright blue eyes peeking slightly up at him through lush, dark lashes. They really are beautiful eyes. Shane feels his heart beating so hard in his chest, he’s surprised it’s not echoing across the room. Troy lifts his hand to Shane’s jaw, swiping his hand over the freckles on Shane’s cheek.

“Is it okay if I…?”

“Yeah.” Shane’s reply is more of an exhale than actual speech, and he closes his eyes as Troy leans in.

The kiss is so soft, just a slight caress. Shane places his hand tentatively on Troy’s waist, replicating their stance all those months ago in the club. This prompts Troy to inch a little closer and push in a little bit harder with the next swipe of his lips. It feels good, really good, but there’s an alarm going off in Shane’s head, like his mind knows something is off. 

This isn’t your husband, this isn’t Ilya’s mouth on yours.

As if he can read Shane’s mind, Ilya steps up behind him, hands on Shane’s hips, steadying and grounding. 

“I’m right here,” Ilya whispers into Shane’s ear. “You are doing so good.”

With Ilya’s comforting words in his ear, Shane’s confidence is boosted enough to tilt his head, squeeze Troy’s waist, and open his mouth to deepen the kiss. Troy’s tongue slides against Shane’s, and he moves his hand from Shane’s jaw into his hair — his other hand gripping Shane’s bicep. 

At the same time, Ilya is rubbing his hands up and down Shane’s sides softly. The combination of all these sensations, being sandwiched between their hard, warm bodies, is overwhelming. Their kisses become more heated, tongues swiping messily. Shane feels tingly in every inch of his body, and it’s like the rest of the room, the rest of the world, has disappeared. All that exists are Ilya behind him, whispering encouragement in his ear and keeping him steady, and Troy in front of him, moaning into his mouth.

He hears Harris let out a reverent “oh fuck” somewhere off to his side when Troy’s hips roll forward into Shane’s.

Oh fuck indeed.

Ilya seems to have more presence of mind than Shane or Troy, because after a couple of minutes, he taps Shane’s hip again and moves away, saying, “Come, over to the couch.”

Shane’s relieved that Ilya is taking on the role of choreographer. He doesn’t know if he’d know what to do with himself, where to place his body, without the help.

Troy moves to take off his shirt, and Ilya removes Shane’s for him. 

Troy’s abs really are insane, and for the first time, Shane allows himself to gaze at them openly. Without even thinking about it, he reaches his hand out to lightly brush his fingers down Troy’s abdomen. He has tried so hard to avoid looking at Troy for more than a split second in the locker room, but now he looks his fill. 

Troy seems to be having the same reaction to Shane, because his eyes are locked on Shane’s pecs, as if he’s never seen them before. 

“You look really good,” Troy whispers again, this time with a shy smile. He darts his eyes past Shane to make eye contact with Ilya and says, “you too, Captain,” with a smirk.

Ilya chuckles and saunters over to the larger couch, pulling his shirt off as well. Turning to sit down in the corner facing Harris, he spreads his legs wide, one along the back of the couch, the other foot on the ground. 

He pats the space between his legs. “Troy.” 

Shane’s nerves are already on fire in response to Ilya’s easy command of the situation and the anticipation of what Ilya will do or say next. Troy moves to sit between Ilya’s legs, his back to Ilya’s front. He doesn’t seem as nervous as Shane is, his movements fluid and easy, but Troy’s eyes hold on Harris’s with every move he makes. That soothes the jealousy that sparks in Shane’s gut at the sight of Ilya kissing Troy’s neck. 

This is all kind of a mindfuck. It’s like he and Ilya and Troy and Harris are having their own separate, silent conversations while their bodies touch and move around each other. So Shane focuses on Ilya, who is continuing his trail of kisses along Troy’s neck and jaw, and tracks Ilya’s hands moving down to the button on Troy’s jeans (and just below, where he sees Troy is hard already).

Oh shit. Okay. He forces himself to steady his breathing.

Troy’s head is tilted to the left, giving Ilya more access. “Is this okay?” Ilya whispers in his ear, unbuttoning Troy’s jeans and moving on to the zipper.

Shane sees Troy silently mouth “okay?” and turns his head to see Harris nodding, wide-eyed. His hands are balled into fists on his knees, and Shane can see that he too is getting hard in his jeans. 

“Okay,” Troy nods to Ilya, and he lifts his hips to let Ilya pull down his jeans and boxers in one, kicking them off with his socks. Ilya doesn’t touch Troy’s dick yet, but gently rubs his big hands on the inside of Troy’s impressive thighs, spreading them wide in a deliciously vulgar position — eyes on Shane the whole time.

Without even realizing he’s moving, Shane steps towards them, and gets to his knees between both mens’ spread legs.

“Good boy.” Ilya says it in Russian, one of the few phrases Shane knows well at this point, keeping it just between them.

Shane is struck by how intimate it feels. Despite the two other people in the room, this moment feels completely about him and Ilya, their connection. Even faced with another man’s hard cock right in front of him, his thoughts are overwhelmingly about Ilya and the beauty of his power in this moment. He feels it, that Ilya is doing this for him, for them, and he’s shocked to realize that this experience may bring them even closer — which he didn’t previously think possible.

He’s snapped out of his reverie when Troy moans lightly. Ilya has moved his hands farther up Troy’s thigh, centimeters from his tight balls and twitching cock. Shane snaps into action with a tentative smile up at Ilya, following the unspoken order to get his mouth on Troy.

Shane licks a stripe up Troy’s cock from base to tip. He’s long, but not as thick as Ilya (and he’s sure Ilya’s pleased about that). Shane repeats the motion then licks his lips. Troy lets out a long sigh of pleasure, at which point Shane wraps his lips fully around his head and starts slowly moving downward, letting lots of spit drip out of his mouth, getting Troy nice and wet. 

Ilya’s eyes are hooded and hazy, his breathing so deep that his chest is pushing Troy’s slightly forward with every breath. 

“Harris, come over behind me, you can see better.” Ilya beckons him.

Shane doesn’t stop bobbing on Troy, but he hears Harris scramble out of his seat and past him. Glancing up, mouth full of Troy’s cock, his eyes lock once again with Ilya’s. But now another set of eyes are looking down at him, tracking the steady movements of his mouth up and down Troy’s length. It honestly makes Shane a little uncomfortable for a moment, but the discomfort is accompanied by a rush of — something, he doesn’t know what — arousal? It’s hot as hell, and damn, maybe he really does like being watched. It’s that thrill that makes him realize just how hard he is himself. He knows he must already be dripping precum in his pants. 

Under the eyes of all three men above him, Shane starts putting on a little bit of a show. He takes Troy down as deep as he can, nose pushing into the neatly cropped hair at the base of Troy’s cock. Then he slowly sucks back up, hollowing out his checks as much as he can and sliding off with a swirl of his tongue to Troy’s head.

“Oh holy fuck,” Troy moans and squeezes his eye shut.

Shane bobs back down to repeat the motion and he feels Troy start to buck his hips, but Ilya tightens his grip on Troy’s thighs and holds him down — allowing Shane to continue setting the pace. He keeps at it for a few minutes, speeding up slightly as he loses inhibition and lets his body take over.

“Shane, fuck,” Troy whimpers. “I’m gonna… you have to… fuck… stop.”

Shane pulls off of him and leans back, wiping his mouth and chin with the back of his hand. “Sorry, sorry, I was getting a little carried away.”

“Shit, don’t apologize,” Troy laughs breathily. “Fuck, you are good at that.”

“Yeah you are,” Harris echoes, a little in awe. 

Shane preens and Ilya smiles one of his biggest grins, the most depraved possible iteration of a proud husband. 

“If you keep praising him like this, Shane’s going to come before he even gets his pants off.” Ilya teases, but with so much warmth in his tone.

“Shut up, no I won’t.” Shane blushes and looks down. “But yeah maybe I should take these off.”

He scrambles up to pull off his sweats, revealing a distinct lack of underwear and a swollen cock bobbing straight ahead.

“Ooh, no underwear? So slutty.” Ilya chirps.

“Shut up,” Shane says again. “I just didn’t see the point of wearing underwear when this is what we’re doing.”

“Oh, we are not complaining.” Harris chimes in, eyes on Shane’s swollen length.

“Jeez, what the fuck is even happening right now.” Troy is laughing, making his still hard dick bounce lightly against his stomach. 

Any remaining tension that was in the room is fully gone — they all seem to be loosened up now — and it’s a relief to be laughing. Shane supposes that with two hard dicks out and in the open, there really is no sense in being shy at this point.

Ilya taps Troy’s thigh, and says “Okay, Barrett, up. Time for you to suck my husband’s cock so I can get him ready to be fucked.”

Troy barks out another laugh, as does Harris, and they start to rearrange themselves. 

“Well, so… um… I kinda actually…,” Shane starts bumbling his words, seemingly unable to get out what he’s trying to say.

“Do you want to stop?” asks Ilya, suddenly very serious. 

“No, no, not that. I just… I uh, I put in a plug before. So, you know, I’d be like, ready or whatever.” 

At this announcement Harris’s jaw drops open and he and Troy trade looks that clearly show they did not expect this kind of thing from Shane Hollander, upstanding citizen. 

“See? Slutty.” Ilya says, as if his point has been proven. 

“Whatever, just shut up and fuck me while I suck Troy’s dick some more,” Shane almost grumbles. 

“This is my favorite day of all time,” Harris giggles. 

Shane moves to kneel on the couch, leaving room on either side for Ilya and Troy to get behind and in front of him. Troy joins him and leans back on his knees, resting on the arm rest behind him. They both watch Ilya remove a bottle of lube from a small box on the fireplace, saunter back over to the couch, and — with all eyes on him — hook his thumbs in the waistband of his sweats and briefs and slowly pull them both down. 

Shane chances a glance at Troy and Harris, eager to see their reaction to Ilya’s impressive cock, and he’s not disappointed. Of course, Troy has probably snuck a peek before, but he’s never seen Ilya fully hard like this. 

And Harris, well, Shane thinks he hears Harris whisper, “I knew it.” It’s maybe a little awkward to know that Harris has contemplated the size of his husband’s cock before, but Shane can’t really blame him. It’s been one of his own preoccupations for 15 years at this point.

Ilya grabs Shane’s hand and squirts in a little lube so he can finally touch his neglected cock, and then Ilya settles in behind Shane. Shane leans all the way forward, head down between Troy’s knees while he starts to slowly stroke himself, and giving Ilya access to start playing with the plug in his ass. Troy seems content to stroke himself and watch for the moment.

“Oooh fuck,” Shane groans when Ilya starts lightly tugging the plug and then pushing it back in, back and forth in a steady rythm. 

“Shane loves to sneak in a plug for me, don’t you sweetheart?” Ilya says conversationally while he pulls the plug farther out and then slams it back in, eliciting another groan from Shane. “One time, he drove all the way from Montreal in the middle of the night with a plug in, just to fuck me in my Halloween costume. Isn’t that right, Shane?”

Shane’s glad he’s face down on the couch, because his face is burning with embarrassment. He’s about to scold Ilya for sharing that very private bit of Shane Hollander trivia, but instead, a whiny whimper comes out of his mouth when Ilya suddenly pulls the plug all the way out. 

“Time to get your mouth back on Troy.” Ilya gives Shane’s ass a squeeze, urging him up. 

It looks like Troy has been snapped out of a reverie, eyes darting down to meet Shane’s, and leaning forward, dick in hand. 

Shane swirls his tongue around the head of Troy’s cock, getting it wet again before he starts sucking in earnest. He feels Ilya rubbing more lube on his hole behind him, then moans onto Troy as Ilya pushes his hips forward and slides his length slowly into Shane. His moan makes Troy shudder and fall forward a little, and Troy grabs Shane’s hair to hold himself up, and fuck, Shane is so full. 

It’s overwhelming in the best possible way, the absolute cacophony of sensations taking over Shane’s body and consciousness. Shane had sucked Ilya off with a toy in his ass before, but it’s nothing compared to the reality of two warm, hard cocks penetrating him on both ends. He has fully given up control — Troy is holding his head in place and sliding his cock in and out of Shane’s mouth. Behind him, Ilya is gripping his hips so hard there will be bruises there later. 

The complete surrender of control is a little scary, but also so thrilling, and allows Shane to mentally shift into a peaceful headspace where the only things he feels are absolute fullness and mind-boggling pleasure. He only faintly registers the moans coming from Troy and the unending rabble of praise coming from Ilya.

“So good, baby. You are taking us so well," He coos. "Yes, Shane, swallow Troy’s cock, let him feel the back of your throat. You feel so fucking good.” Each word is punctuated with a deep thrust, and Shane can feel Ilya losing some of his control. 

He’s had his eyes closed, focused on the heady pleasure of the cocks sliding in and out of him on both ends, the erotic sound of slapping against his thighs, and increasingly frantic moaning from Troy. But he hazards a glance up at Troy as he pushes deeper into his throat. 

Troy’s head is turned to the side, and Shane thinks he must be looking at Harris. Shane swallows down on Troy’s cock, and Troy snaps his head to look down at Shane.

“Oh fuck, that’s so good, I’m gonna come Shane.”

Troy goes to pull out, but Shane grabs the hand in his hair and squeezes, letting Troy know he wants him to come in his mouth.

At the same time Ilya says, “Give it to him, Troy. He can take it.”

At the combination of Ilya’s words and Troy pushing back into his mouth, Shane moans and his dick twitches, still mostly untouched all night and aching. Troy hisses out a garbled “oh god yesssss” and Shane feels his mouth fill with spurt after spurt of his release. He doesn’t swallow, holding it in his mouth just like he and Ilya had talked about the night they decided to do this.

He vaguely hears Harris say, “Yes baby, you’re so fucking hot when you come,” and it’s oddly heartwarming to Shane. 

Ilya is still buried deep in Shane, but he stops moving while Troy comes and slowly pulls his cock out of Shane’s mouth. Ilya reaches an arm down around Shane’s chest and pulls him back upright forcefully. He whispers in a throaty voice, right in Shane’s ear, making him shudder.

“Show them.”

Shane opens his mouth wide, tongue out, and Troy’s generous release starts to drip out of his mouth. It’s filthy and so fucking erotic, and Shane’s a little lightheaded watching Harris and Troy react.

Then Ilya surprises them all and says, “Harris, come kiss Shane.”

“Oh shit.”

It’s Troy who says that as Harris hesitantly walks up to Shane, who is held up against Ilya with his cock still inside him. Harris leans in, careful not to touch Shane’s jutting erection (although at this point, Shane wouldn’t mind if he did, he’s so desperate to be touched), and Shane meets Harris’s mouth with his own. Their tongues slide together, transferring what’s left of Troy’s come into Harris’ mouth, and when he pulls away, Shane sees Harris swallow. 

Before Shane can even process what just happened, Troy surges forward, grabbing Harris by the shoulders and descending on his mouth in a searing kiss. Harris lets out a squeak of surprise followed quickly by a moan into Troy’s mouth, and the two of them are suddenly lost in each other. Troy pushes Harris back so he has room to step off of the couch, and moves Harris over to the other couch, shoving him down to sit. 

Troy’s movements are hurried and forceful — he pulls down Harris’s waistband just enough to free his cock, and sinks his mouth down with the deepest groan he’s uttered all afternoon. It’s as if he is more aroused by going down on Harris than he is by the intense orgasm he just experienced in Shane’s mouth. Again, oddly heartwarming. 

At the same time, Ilya begins to slowly rock up into Shane again, still holding him in place with both solid arms wrapped around his chest. Shane’s breath hitches at the renewed pressure and at Ilya’s voice whispering right up against his ear.

“Look what you did to them, moy lyubimiy.” Ilya whispers into Shane’s ears. “You got them so hot, they can’t keep their hands off each other.”

“Ilya, please, that’s really hot, but I need you to fuck me for real right now.”

Ilya’s chest rumbles with a laugh that Shane feels deep inside his body, ripples of vibration causing Ilya’s cock to nudge his prostate before he starts thrusting hard. 

“Whatever you need, sweetheart.” Ilya punctuates each word with a crack of his hips up into Shane. The pleasure builds so fast that Shane’s body starts to tremble, no longer able to form words, only moans of pleasure while Ilya takes him apart. 

He hears the crack of the lube bottle opening, and then Ilya’s slick hand is grasping Shane’s cock. Ilya sets a relentless pace, cock hitting that perfect spot inside at the same time that his hand slaps down and brushes Shane’s balls, over and over again, until Shane is reduced to a whimpering puddle of pleasure. 

The room around them is a haze, but Shane’s consciousness shifts back to the present moment when he hears Harris rasp out, “Troy, I’m gonna…” and then moan loudly. 

Shane’s eyes have been pressed shut, but Ilya tells him to open them. When he does, he sees Harris breathing heavily on the other couch, Troy between his legs, but both men turned to gaze at Shane as Ilya undoes him completely. The thrill of their eyes on him sends Shane over the edge, and with one more hard thrust from Ilya, Shane’s entire body shudders with a powerful release. His vision goes blurry and he relishes the delicious tension as Ilya strokes out every bit of pleasure he can before Shane gives a final twitch and relaxes down from the peak of pleasure with a long “fuuuuuuck.” 

If Ilya weren’t pressing their bodies together, holding him up, Shane would have collapsed forward with the force of his orgasm. But Ilya is still going, pumping erratically into Shane, and it’s almost too much when Ilya finally squeezes Shane as tight as he can and roars his release. He flops forward onto the couch, pressing Shane beneath him, and placing sloppy wet kisses on Shane’s freckled shoulders and the back of his neck. 

As Shane comes down from his high, he remembers with a jolt of nerves that they have an audience. But when turns his head to look across the room, he sees that Troy and Harris are cuddled up on the other couch, Troy’s face buried in Harris’s neck while Harris slowly strokes his hair, eyes closed. Shane smiles to himself, heart warmed at the sweetness of their embrace. After everything they just did, their tenderness feels almost more intimate than anything else.

Ilya slowly pulls his softening dick out of Shane, leaning back up on his knees, and grabs his discarded t-shirt to clean Shane up a bit. Shane’s glad Harris and Troy are wrapped up in themselves and not witnessing this part, which feels so vulnerable. He flips over, realizing that the come he had released onto his stomach is now all over the couch cushion below him. 

“Ugh, we should have put down towels. I think this cushion is ruined.”

“Just have to flip it over, no one will know.” Ilya says with a smile.

“Gross.” Shane repeats his usual post-sex refrain. 

The four men remain snuggled up on their respective couches for a few cozy minutes, Harris’s playlist filling the room with a soft, sensual ambiance. Unfortunately, the peaceful moment is interrupted by loud barks from upstairs. 

They all groan a little, but Harris laughs and says, “I can go deal with the dogs.”

“I guess we should all get dressed and get up, huh?” Troy adds.

Shane really really doesn’t want to move, but Troy is right, and the dogs do need to be attended to. It’s amazing they stayed quiet until now. All of them start moving, stretching and putting on clothes quietly. The awkward tension that had left the room was making its way back now that the endorphins and oxytocin were wearing off. 

“We can, um, get out of your hair,” Troy offered as he pulled his socks back on.

“What? No!” Ilya sounded shocked and a little annoyed. “You are staying for dinner of course.”

“Really?” Troy asked, eyes widened at glancing at Shane.

“Yeah, totally, we’re not just going to kick you guys out. We can order something.”

“Piz-!”

“Not pizza.” Shane cuts Ilya off. “We need something at least a little healthy, come on.”

Harris and Troy exchange smirks — this is the Shane they’re used to. 

“Ilya, why don’t you go walk Anya with Harris and Chiron, Troy and I can figure out food.”

“Ugh, you are going to order kale and unseasoned chicken for dinner.”

Troy laughs and Shane rolls his eyes. “How about sushi?”

“Fiiiine. Come on Harris, our children need us.”

They plod up the stairs, Ilya holding his dirtied t-shirt in one hand. 

“Put on a shirt while you’re up there!” Shane calls behind him. Ilya throws up a middle finger behind him without looking back.

Once their partners are fully up the stairs, Shane goes to follow, but Troy grabs his arm to hold him back.

“Hey, uh, while they’re not here, I just wanted to check in and see if you’re okay. I was super nervous earlier, and I feel like you were too, so…yeah. Everything good?”

“Oh! Uh, yeah.” Shane replied, surprised and touched by Troy’s thoughtfulness. “I mean, that was like, super intense and not anything I’ve ever done before. But it was…good? Like, surprisingly good?”

“Yeah,” Troy nods and huffs a laugh. “It was. I’ve never done anything like that either, just so you know. Harris has, and I’m going to assume Ilya probably has…”

Shane scoffs, “Only with women, but yeah.”

“...but I, uh, had a good time. Thanks for doing this. Like, for Harris. He was really excited about it.” Troy huffs another laugh and shakes his head. “And just so you know, I don’t have like a crush crush on you. I mean, I like you, like we’re friends and you’re cool and everything, and obviously you’re insanely hot, but like, I am totally in love with Harris, and we’re getting married next year—”

Shane cuts him off, “Troy, it’s cool. I know. We’re cool. I’m not trying to leave Ilya for you or get into like a throuple or whatever. A quadruple? What would that even be called?”

Troy’s laughing in earnest now. “I don’t know man, this is all so weird.”

“It really is, right?” Shane laughs too. “I don’t know why they got on that whole crush thing. Ilya just likes to embarrass me, it’s like his favorite hobby, I don’t get it.”

“Yeah, he really does.” Troy shakes his head. “To be fair, it’s pretty cute when you get all blushy and annoyed.”

“Not you too!” Shane laughs. 

“Did you really drive all the way here from Montreal with a butt plug in?”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe Ilya said that.” Shane covers his face in his hands. “But… yes. I did.” He groans at the memory, half annoyed, half getting turned on again.

“Damn, that’s fucking hot. I wish Harris and I lived two hours apart so he could do that for me.” 

“No you don’t,” Shane lightly shoves his shoulder.

“Nah, I love living together.”

“You guys really are a great couple. We’re excited for your wedding.”

“Oh, uh, thanks! Us too. Obviously.”

“Come on, let’s go up and order sushi. Ilya is going to be so hungry and I don’t want to deal with that.” 

Shane starts up the stairs. Troy follows him, laughing again. And Shane’s happy to realize that the awkwardness is gone. 

******

Hours later, after consuming way too much sushi and saying goodbye to Troy and Harris, Shane is nuzzled up against Ilya in bed, both of them exhausted from the exertion of the day — and honestly, from all the anxiety leading up to it. 

“How are you feeling, moy zaychik?” Ilya asks and plants a kiss on Shane’s hair. After his constant worrying the past week, Ilya wants to make sure he’s not uncomfortable or regretful about how the afternoon went. 

“You’ve asked me that like 5 times in the last hour. I promise, I am okay. I’m good, even. I’m surprised how good I am.”

“Oh yes?”

“Yeah, I uh, had fun, you know?” Even though his face is hidden, Ilya knows Shane is blushing.  “And Troy and I talked a little while you and Harris were walking the dogs. We kinda, like, cleared the air and made sure we were all cool.”

“So, you want to do it again?”

He’s half joking, half genuinely curious, but Shane says firmly, “NO. This was strictly a one-time thing. It was fun, it was hot, and it is now over. Door closed.”

“We’ll seeee,” Ilya sing-songs, now teasing. 

“Did you really enjoy it that much that you want to do it again?”

“Shane,” Ilya pulls his face up, eyes fiery and intense on Shane’s. “You were so fucking beautiful taking me and Troy. And looking at their faces watching me fuck you, knowing how much it turned you on, I would do that a million times if you wanted me to.”

Shane looks taken aback by Ilya’s intensity. He kisses Ilya softly and then says, “Just so we’re clear, I did have fun with Troy and Harris, but nothing and no one compares to you, Ilya. I sucked your dick once when we were teenagers, and I never wanted anyone else after that, not even a little bit. Nothing is better than you and me together, in bed, on the ice, wherever. Even when we retire, even when we grow old, even when the most exciting part of our day is working in the garden or making dinner together. You’re all I need and all I want, forever. ”

The heat that had started rising in Ilya’s gut is replaced by overwhelming tenderness and affection for the man in his arms. 

“Ya tebya lyublyu.” Shane whispers and kisses Ilya softly.

“Ya tebya lyublyu. I love you, Shane.” 

Ilya closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep, feeling more secure and content in his life right now than he did three months ago. He was ready to be boring, if this is what boring looked like. 

Chapter End Notes

moy zaychik = my bunny (common Russian pet name, according to Google, don’t fact check me)

ya tebya lyublyu = I love you & moy lyubimiy = my beloved (but all Ilya/Shane fans know those two already, right?)

This was second ever fic and first ever smut, I hope you enjoyed it! I appreciate every single comment and kudos so much <3

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