Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

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

Relationship:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander

Additional Tags:

Ilya Rozanov Wears Lingerie, Gay Sex, Queer Themes, Shane Hollander Loves Ilya Rozanov, Ilya Rozanov Loves Shane Hollander, queer joy, POV Alternating

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-08-31 Words: 3,342 Chapters: 1/1

Babydoll

Summary

When Ilya promised his therapist that he would do something special for himself after Ottawa’s roadtrip, he didn’t tell her that something special would involve high-end lingerie. She might suggest he tell Shane.

Shane liked him masculine and strong, but Shane was stuck in Montreal for meetings. Ilya had plenty of time to indulge in his harmless little secret. His boyfriend would never know.

Notes

A million thank yous to my dear friend and beta reader SpectrallyDistracted

The red satin slipped between Ilya’s fingers as he looped the delicate spaghetti straps back over the wooden hanger. He turned the hanger around and hooked it on the door of his closet. Carefully, he loosened the laces that crisscrossed the back of the babydoll negligee.

Ilya’s heart rate sped up as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His cottage tan had nearly faded, and the contrast between his pale skin and the rich garnet lace of his boy shorts made a beautiful picture. He sighed, his hand dropping back to his side.

It had been a long time since he indulged in something so pretty, years since he nurtured that feminine side of himself. He’d had only Svetlana to share it with during those early years in Boston, and it had been very different from when they would dress up and dance around her bedroom as teens. In Ottawa, his only audience for his newest purchase was himself.

Ilya had just returned from a road trip, and Shane would be busy with brand meetings until Wednesday. Missing Shane was like an ache, dull and ever present. He had promised Galina that he would do something special for himself when he got home.

Dancing around his bedroom in a sexy nightgown would likely not have been what his therapist had in mind, but maybe he would tell her one day. Ilya’s shoulders slumped as he imagined her asking what Shane thought of his experiments with feminine clothes. No, best not to tell her.

Ilya shook his head, trying to shake away his useless longing. Shane was nearly perfect for him and so very good to him. What did it matter that Shane wouldn’t like Ilya’s pretty lingerie?

He connected his phone to the speakers in his bedroom and scrolled through his playlists until he got to Sexy#3. As the sensual beat and lush horns of the first song began to play, Ilya stretched his arms up and arched his back. He rolled his head backward and rocked his pelvis side to side, feeling his shower-soft curls on his neck and the stretch of red lace over his cock.

He waited until the bass dropped in the song to release his pose. He pinched the delicate straps of his negligee and plucked it from the hanger. He spun to face the mirror as he let the swirl of red satin fall into place over his head.

Once Ilya adjusted the deep neckline so that the V was centered between his pecs, he ran his hands down his sides, enjoying the way the cool fabric slid over his skin. Twisting in the mirror, he adjusted the tie in the back so that the lines of the bodice and hip length skirt accented his narrow waist.

The two floor-length mirrors Ilya had set up in the bedroom were filled with his reflection. He smiled as he began to dance.

Despite his mother’s irritation, Shane was glad that his meetings had been cancelled. He rarely got a chance to surprise Ilya since his schedule was so regimented. Maybe we should let a few of my contracts expire this year. Montbray is a nightmare to work with anyway, and I hate doing soft drink commercials.

Shane parsed through his smaller brand deals, trying to decide which ones he could eliminate and free up more time to spend with Ilya. He parked his Range Rover beside Ilya’s Mercedes and unlocked the door, heading into the house. He tilted his head, listening.

There was softly thumping music coming from the bedroom. Shane frowned in confusion. Ilya used music as the soundtrack for his life, and it was odd for him to be playing something sexy by himself.

Maybe Ilya would be more ready for company than Shane expected. He felt a twist of anticipation and tried to imagine what he might see when he walked into the bedroom. His mouth watered at the idea of sneaking into the bedroom, dropping to his knees, and wrapping his lips around that thick cock.

Shane unbuttoned his shirt as he walked, rushing down the hallway. The music was barely contained by the closed door. Shane smiled as he turned the doorknob and swung it open.

The carpet was plush against Ilya’s toes as he did a grapevine across the floor, bending his knees and shaking his hips for emphasis. The red satin fluttered with his movements, and he caught the hem beneath his fingertips, drawing it up to reveal the shadow of his adonis belt as it disappeared into red lace.

He grinned at himself in the mirror, feeling the joy in moving his body with the music. He let the skirt fall as he drew his arms up into a ballerina oval and executed a messy pirouette. He laughed at the way the skirt twirled around his waist dramatically and spun again.

He planted his feet and dropped, hips back and ass out. With his hand between his feet, he bent forward wishing his hair was long enough to brush against the floor. He unfolded himself, imagining tossing long curls over one shoulder. The stretch of the move felt good, and Ilya jumped and spun away from the mirror, intending to do it again.

He froze mid-move, balancing on the balls of his feet. He stared at the open door to his bedroom. His heart dropped and his ears rang as he met Shane’s eyes. Vaguely, Ilya thought he heard Shane speak.

“Holy shit,” Shane whispered, taking in the sight of Ilya, dancing before a mirror in red lingerie.

Shane’s cock throbbed in his boxers as he took in the red lace boy shorts stretching around Ilya’s powerful thighs. The underwear cupped his balls enticingly and barely contained his cock. Shane licked his lips.

He tore his gaze away from Ilya’s crotch and his lust-addled mind stumbled again at the sight of a red band of lace crossing just under his pecs. Shane followed the V-neckline up to where it framed Ilya’s muscular chest, the cross around his neck pointing at the dip of cleavage between his peaked nipples.

“Shane,” Ilya choked out, sniffing. The sound set off alarms in Shane’s mind, and his gaze flew up to take in Ilya’s face. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes glistened as he turned his head away. “Shane, I can explain.”

Shane was moving across the room before he registered the decision to leave the doorway. He wrapped one hand gently around Ilya’s waist and crowded him against the wall. They barely avoided colliding with the mirror.

He leaned in and kissed Ilya deeply, trying to channel all the passion and love he felt for him through his lips. Ilya moaned and returned the kiss, pressing into Shane and tangling his hand into Shane’s hair.

Relief made Ilya lightheaded, or maybe it was the feel of Shane’s hard body against his.  The satin skirt was a slippery barrier between Shane’s big hand and Ilya’s waist. It warmed up quickly, pressed between them.

“Fuck, Ilya,” Shane gasped, breaking the kiss. “You look so good. I need you to fuck me in this.” He grabbed Ilya’s ass and ground their hard cocks together through too many layers of clothing. “Please.”

“You need it?” Ilya asked, pitching his voice into a low rumble. He tucked his thumb into the waistband of his lace panties, snapping them against his hip just to hear the sound. “You want me to pull these down enough to free my cock? Want me to keep them on while I fuck you?”

Shane groaned, trailing his lips along the side of Ilya’s neck. He curled his fingers into Ilya’s glutes, possessive and needy. “Yes, want to see you like this while you fuck me.” He grazed his teeth along Ilya’s collarbone.

“They will be ruined,” Ilya whispered, hot arousal twisting in his gut. “The lace will be stretched out.” He ran his hands up Shane’s back and into his hair. When he pulled, Shane whined, sucking harder at the skin just above the satin neckline. “We will get the satin all sweaty. It will reek of sex.”

“I’ll buy you another one,” Shane promised. He straightened up, briefly meeting Ilya’s eyes. “I’ll buy you one in every color they make.”

The idea of it went straight to Ilya’s cock, and he dragged Shane in for another desperate kiss. “Going to drape me in pretty silks, Shanya?” He fumbled at Shane’s belt, tugging the leather free. “Are you going to buy me lacy things to fuck you in?”

“Yes, fuck.” Shane stepped back far enough to strip off his trousers and boxer briefs, tossing them toward the hamper blindly. Before Ilya could tease him for his haste, Shane dropped to his knees. The red satin skirt glistened against his black hair as he pressed his lips against Ilya’s cock. He licked up his shaft where it strained against the red lace, then he mouthed at the head, his wet tongue and breath adding to the spreading spot of pre-cum.

Ilya dragged the waistband of his panties down, but his cock was only free for a moment. Shane slipped it into his mouth, following the fabric down until Ilya tucked it beneath his balls. He looked at their reflection in the mirror, thrusting further into Shane’s mouth at the decadent sight.

“I’m going to put you on your hands and knees in front of this mirror,” Ilya decided. “We’re going to watch as I fuck your ass in satin and lace.” Shane sucked harder, moaning around his cock. “Is that a yes, Hollander? Do you like that idea?”

Shane pulled off of him, breathless and flushed. “Yes.” He groaned, looking up at Ilya. “Fuck, yes.”

It took a moment to get the lube, and Shane laughed at the look on Ilya’s face as he spread a blanket on the floor. “Shut up, asshole. I don’t think either of us want to clean cum out of the carpet, and we’re not leaving it for your housekeeper.”  

Ilya swatted him on the ass. “So considerate,” he teased.

As he knelt behind Shane, the mirror framed their reflections. Shane’s hair fell along his forehead, sweat-damp and a little longer than usual. His biceps flexed as he braced his weight on his arms. Ilya ran a hand along his back, tracing the lean muscle down to his waist.

“You are so beautiful,” Ilya told him, in awe that this powerful man would make himself so vulnerable for him. He warmed the lube between his fingers before stroking it around Shane’s rim. “How do you want? Fingers?” His cock was throbbing, and he rutted against the inside of Shane’s thigh.

“No, just,” Shane dropped his shoulders and arched his back. “On your cock. Fuck, baby, just…”

Ilya smirked, glad he wasn’t the only one too aroused for English. He hissed at the cold as he spread lube generously over his cock. It dripped past his balls onto the lace of his panties, but they were ruined anyway. As he pressed into Shane’s welcoming heat, he thought, Shane promised to buy me more.

The idea pierced through his concentration, and Ilya thrust harder than he meant to. Shane braced against his weight and fucked back into him. “Yes, baby. Just like that.” Their eyes met in the mirror, and Ilya was lost.

Red satin pooled over Shane’s back and spilled over his sides. Ilya’s hands were visible underneath fabric, his grip firm on Shane’s hips. Shane stared into the mirror as Ilya fucked him hard and fast.

Ilya’s curls were damp and wilting; his lips were parted and face flushed. His cross bounced against his skin. Somehow, the spaghetti straps stayed in place, the gleaming red a stark contrast to his fading tan. Shane wondered if Ilya knew the word debauched.

Pleasure was building up within Shane; the heat and motion of Ilya’s thrusts painted it on him in layers. It was heavy and warm, radiating out from everywhere that Ilya touched him. He met Ilya’s eyes in the mirror.

“You are so fucking perfect, Shane,” Ilya gasped. “Are you going to come for me? Come on my cock?” He grimaced as he asked, as though desperately holding back his own orgasm.

“Almost there, baby,” Shane promised. He could feel it collecting in the base of his spine. His thighs were taut, bracing against the onslaught and Ilya’s weight. “Hold on for me.”

“So good, Shane,” Ilya whispered. “So…” He bit his lip and closed his eyes; he threw his head back and moaned.

Waves of pleasure washed over Shane, and he lost himself in the feeling. His elbows shook, and he let himself fall forward. The new angle sent him higher, and he vaguely heard Russian as Ilya rocked into him a few more times.

Shane didn’t remember closing his eyes, but the world was dark around him. The music had softened, with a singer crooning in another language. Ilya slumped over him, trusting that Shane could support the extra weight. Love warmed his heart at the idea of holding them both up, even for a moment.

He wanted to slow down time, to luxuriate in the afterglow without the interruptions of biology or heavy conversations. The blanket slid beneath his knee, shifting the angle of his hips. His muscles were shaking, and they needed to move before he fell over.

“You’re heavy,” Shane croaked, grimacing at the rough feeling in his throat.

Ilya chuckled and deliberately relaxed, making himself dead weight against Shane’s back. “You’re strong. Have lifted twice this much.”

“This is not a lift.” Shane rolled to one side, sending them both to the floor with as much control as he could manage. He lay there with Ilya’s arm draped around his waist and tried to ignore his dry mouth and the ache in his shoulder. It didn’t work for long. He sighed. “I’m thirsty.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to change?” Shane asked as he accepted the tray of snacks Ilya had brought back from the kitchen.

“Is fine for the moment,” Ilya shrugged, less bothered by the sweat drying on his skin than Shane would have been. He passed his boyfriend a Gatorade and settled onto the bed, sitting back against the headboard.

He pulled a grape from the bunch and popped it in his mouth. The skin crunched between his teeth and bright flavor burst along his palette. Everything was better with Shane by his side, especially in the first moments after they reunited.

He shifted, and the skirt of his negligee caught awkwardly beneath his hip. A niggling unease built in the back of his mind, and he tried to adjust the fabric as subtly as he could. It was one thing to fuck in his pretty nightgown. It was another thing to talk about him wearing such things, about him wanting to wear them.

Shane reached for an apple slice, dropping a kiss to Ilya’s shoulder as he leaned forward. “I love you,” he said simply. “You know that, right?”

Ilya did know that, even if his mind sometimes offered up reasons why he shouldn’t. He let out a breath. “I love you, too.” He bit into a cube of cheese and chewed slowly.

Their simple snack satisfied Ilya’s mildly nagging hunger, but the whispering doubts in his mind weren’t so easily silenced. He glanced down at the wrinkles in his lingerie and absently tried to smooth them away. His hand shook.

“Shane, would you really buy me another…” The word negligee refused to pass his lips, so he just waved his hand down at his chest vaguely.

“Of course!” He eyed the fabric critically. “Did we ruin it? I don’t have a clue how to wash something like that, but I can look it up.”

Ilya swallowed back against the lump that formed in his throat. “You said you would buy another color?”

“Of course, baby.” Shane stared at Ilya’s chest, his lips tilted up at the corners. “Do you think we could find it in blue?”

“You want to put me in Metros’s colors?” Ilya laughed, surprising himself.

“No,” Shane hummed thoughtfully. “More like an ice blue? I think it would bring out your eyes.” He set his empty Gatorade aside and turned to face Ilya. Shane’s smile evaporated, and his brow creased with concern. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Ilya pressed his lips together and stared at their feet, curled together on top of the blanket. “You – You like how I look? In this?”

Shane straddled his lap and hooked a finger under his chin; Ilya clenched his jaw, still refusing to look at him. Shane scanned his face, breathing quietly and brushing his thumb along Ilya’s jawline. Ilya finally met his eyes, determined to be brave for his Shane.

“Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear,” Ilya whispered. “Tell me the truth. Do you like me like this?”

“Fuck, baby,” Shane said with the earnest smile he seemed to save just for them. He settled a little more firmly into Ilya’s lap and ran a finger under one red spaghetti strap. “Until today, I didn’t think your shoulders could look any broader than they do in those black tank tops you like.”

The anxiety in Ilya’s chest eased. He grinned up at his boyfriend. “You like my shoulders, Hollander?”

“Yeah.” Shane licked his bottom lip and followed the satin edging down along the v-neck. “And what this does for your pecs is sinful.” He spread his big hands over Ilya’s ribs. “When I walked in while you were dancing? Fuck, I don’t know if it was the lacing in the back or the moves you were doing, but your lats looked incredible.”

Ilya pulled Shane in for a deep kiss, running his hands down Shane’s back and slipping them under the waistband of his Calvins to grip his ass. They were both breathless when Ilya pulled back to ask, “You like my dancing?”

Shane hummed, trailing his lips along Ilya’s jaw until he could catch Ilya’s earlobe between his teeth. “I liked it.”

“You want me to dance for you again?” he asked, chuckling when Shane groaned and rolled his hips against Ilya. He was hard again. “Do you want me to dance for you in a pretty blue silky thing that you’ll buy me?”

“I’ll buy you any color you want if you’ll dance for me.” He sucked and licked his way down Ilya’s neck. “Any color… Any style… So sexy.”

“Maybe I’ll get you to buy me a thong next time, so you can see my ass while I twerk for you. I saw a black one online with a bow that would sit right at the top of my crack.” Ilya tilted his head back to give Shane more access to his clavicle. The rasp of Shane’s stubble on his sensitive collarbone made Ilya groan and grind up into Shane’s ass.

“Keep talking,” Shane begged. “God, I love to hear you talk.”

“I could buy one of those plugs with app for my phone.” Inwardly, Ilya hoped that Shane would forget himself and leave a hickey on his chest. He rolled his hips into Shane’s, desperate to get some friction on his cock. “They have ones that will vibrate with music. Imagine me dancing for you while the plug in your ass pulses with the beat.”

Shane scrambled to his feet and stripped off his boxers. He gave Ilya a searing stare. “I want to ride you.” He grabbed the lube and climbed back into Ilya’s lap. “I want to come all over your pretty little nightgown. I’ll buy you more. Please, baby…”

“Yes, oh fuck!”

As Shane prepped himself, Ilya tugged his panties back down. The flush on Shane’s chest reflected the red of the babydoll as he slid down Ilya’s cock. Not for the first time, Ilya wondered how Shane could be so perfect for him. He hoped to spend a lifetime figuring it out.