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  1. “Ilya,” Shane says warningly, but he’s too late as the grin unfurls across Ilya’s face. “I said no laughing,” he snaps, glaring at him. “You’re laughing.”

    Ilya shakes his head. “Is not at you, sweetheart,” he says, unable and unwilling to stop his beaming. “I am just—happy. To share this with you.” He meets Shane’s eyes. “You are—singularity,” he says, careful with his pronunciation. “My favorite.”

    Shane goes red so fast, Ilya worries about his heart for a second.

    “I just want to know you,” Shane murmurs, closing his eyes when Ilya lifts his hand up and strokes through his hair. “I miss you when you aren't around, and I want to carry the little bits of you I can.”

    OR: Shane has some questions. Ilya always seems to have an answer. (And one time, Ilya has a question, too.)

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    6,027
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Files:
    1
    AO3:
    #77793821
  2. “And the both of you just assumed that, what? Jackie and I would just play along? Did either of us even factor into this stupid thing, outside of making us cum?” Shane asks, crossing his arms. He looks annoyed, one of Ilya's favorite emotions to see painted across his face. “Or was this all about your giant fucking ego?”

    Ilya smirks, and Shane groans, throwing a pillow at his face. “Don't even fucking start.”

    “Me?” Ilya says, buzzed and happy, thrilled to be irritating Shane as always. “Ego is not the only thing giant about me.”

    OR: Hayden & Ilya make a bet. Shane (and Jackie) win.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    11,143
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Files:
    1
    AO3:
    #75959046
  3. Shane doesn't even have to look up to know that Ilya is grinning, a feral, vicious thing as he knots his fingers in Shane's hair and tugs, just hard enough for Shane to let out a whine. The dull ache reverberates down his nerves, as he opens his mouth and pants, sucking down lungful after lungful of Ilya's sweat and musk, salt straight from his skin as he noses at the hem of his shirt.

    “Is good, we won,” Ilya murmurs, stroking his hand through Shane's hair. “Have been wanting to show—have been wanting to give prize.” He pauses, and Shane knows his next words are going to be a cruel gift, a dagger of lust straight between his ribs. “And Hollander has been eager to show off, yes? Three goals,”—he whistles, low and mocking as Shane shifts at his feet, his ears burning as Ilya cups the back of his head, scratching blunt nails over his scalp—“is like he needed to prove how bad he wants.”

    OR: Ottawa wins the Stanley Cup. Everyone gets a reward.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    7,147
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Files:
    1
    AO3:
    #75447656