Summary:

“Please,” he says finally, voice breaking as he gives in. “Fuck, please, Rozanov, I’m gonna—”

Rozanov pulls all the way back, mouth releasing his cock with a noise that makes Shane’s hips rock up into nothing.

“Rozanov,” he begs again.

“Hmm?” Rozanov asks, kissing Shane’s shaking thigh gently. “You need something?”

“You— fuck— you said I could come,” Shane says, trying to keep the accusatory note out of his voice.

“Mhm. When you say my name, yes?”

“I did!” Shane says, just a hint of a whine in his tone now. Rozanov smirks at him.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says. “My first name.”

OR:

Ilya does something a little different on tuna melt day.