Summary:

“Hollander? You are still here?” Rozanov called, breaking the TV static silence filling Shane’s head. He blinked. “Uh. Yeah, just leaving,” he answered, surprised by how steady his voice sounded. Good, that was good. He knew he couldn’t show Rozanov any weakness if he wanted to keep coming back. But did he want to come back if it made him feel like this? “Door is too heavy? Or I fuck you too good, you cannot move legs,” came Rozanov’s taunting response. Shane could practically see the tilted smirk on his face, cigarette smoke wafting around his freshly-showered curls. “Fuck off, Rozanov,” Shane muttered. _____________________ Or, I wrote something to add to the pile of subdrop!Shane in Vegas fics because legally by law I had to