!consors!

uh i haven’t posted anything about the third one it only exists in my docs rn…

links to each au to know more about them:

i am so very sorry that this took like a week…

see: other parts

—

ilya is having the time of his life. he does just about every weekend, seeing as he helps organize most of the parties is frat hosts. being a veteran member means that he's the life of the party; chooses who's invited and who gets to extend the invitation. whether or not it's exclusive or a walk-in.

he gets to have a say in the occasion. the activities, the music, the dress-code (if one is even required); everything falls to him. ilya was voted as president at the beginning of his third-last semester after the former president, scott, transferred universities. the honour felt silly outside of his frat brothers' obnoxious

celebration. that, of course, also called for a party. right now, ilya is on the dance floor. he's getting a steady buzz as he sips on his drink, swaying and not minding the bodies that keep pressing against him. it's so loud. the music is blaring to the point that they might get a noise complaint; he could feel the bass thumping in his throat.

he laughs at something cliff yells over the noise. something about a nearby sorority, if he recalls correctly. not offensive, maybe about a stupid argument that sprouted for the sake of having one.

speaking of said sorority, ilya's best friend appears beside him.

"sveta!" ilya shouts with a wide smile. he pulls her into a sweaty hug, to which she grimaces and pushes him away. ilya laughs.

svetlana rolls her eyes fondly at him. "just letting you know i'm heading out." she winks at him.

ilya frowns. "why?" he checks his watch. "it is not even midnight!"

this time she scoffs at ilya, leans closer to practically yell in his ear, "met a girl in one of the kitchens, she's hot but refuses to leave her friend alone."

they make eye contact again. svetlana is met with a sly grin from ilya. "her friend is a man," she elaborates with a raised eyebrow.

"so?”

that makes svetlana giggle. "i don't think he's your type. he's... i don't know? quiet and— fuck, emo? whatever, he's got chains on and shit!"

at this point, ilya has stopped swaying off-beat. he takes in svetlana's words, attempting at imagining such a person. he understands why she thinks he would be uninterested, other than the fact that he mostly hooks up with women. all of the guys-albeit a very little number-that ilya does leave with are part of some sort of athletic clique. not, what did she say? emo?

ilya shrugs. "where is he?"

"standing with rose, the girl i mentioned before." svetlana points in the general direction of the hallway that leads to this floor’s kitchen. "i was planning on leaving with both of them and dropping her friend off at home."

he waves a hand off at her. "no. i will take care of him."

svetlana leads ilya off of the dance floor, to an area that is slightly less crowded, and down the hall to the kitchen. it's blissfully more noticeably air conditioned with the lack of a crowd.

a few people mill about. small groups chatting, some helping themselves to more drinks. ilya's gaze lands on a girl in a pretty dress, speaking with a boy sitting on the counter. her hands are resting on his thighs; he looks bashful and flushed. svetlana walks right up to them.

"i'm back!" the girl, rose, ilya supposes, startles but laughs easily when she realizes who it is. her eyes flick to ilya briefly, her hands remain on her friend.

"hey! ready to go?"

svetlana nods. "yeah, i found shane some company as well." she gestures back to ilya vaguely. he waves.

rose now inspects him with a more trained look. she gives him an up and down once-over, scrutinizing rather than seductive. then she turns back to shane, saying something that ilya assumes is in an entirely different language because he has no idea what the fuck she just said.

he looks at shane. properly, now. he watches shane bite his lip and nod, a small smile gracing his lips as rose squeezing his thighs lightly and then letting go. their gazes meet and ilya immediately notices the black makeup that lines his eyes.

svetlana and rose are speaking to each other. ilya doesn't even try to pay attention to the conversation.

shane's outfit is simple. a black t-shirt with a white design and black jeans. ilya wouldn't call him emo, maybe alternative? silver jewelry hangs off of his neck, wrists, and ears. his hair is short, black, and parted in the middle, looking damp with sweat. the eyeliner seems like it sharper earlier in the night.

"well, we'll leave you guys to it, then!" the girls leave. it's just ilya and shane now. shane makes no effort to move, merely blinking as a sign of life.

"i'm ilya," he introduces himself after a slightly awkward moment passes. shane only nods.

eventually, "i know," is what he responds with. choosing to ignore the growing uncomfortable atmosphere, ilya continues the interaction as if nothing is bothering him. "i was told to keep you company, your... friend? yeah, she said that she does not want you to be left alone."

he gets a flash of teeth as shane smiles again. “i'm aware. i was actually listening to what they were saying, unlike you."

ilya fights the heat that rises on his neck. "well, is not my fault that your boring clothes capture my attention," he retorts easily.

shane barks out a laugh. "president rozanov, are you hitting on me?" he leans forward on the counter, bracing his arms.

he takes a step closer, stopping to stand between shane's legs. his hands replace where rose's had been resting. "how come i have never seen you before? hm?" his breath heats shane's face.

ilya can see something shift in his eyes. shane's own breathing hitches. "i'm at almost every event that has open invites, or i come with someone who is invited. i just... don't do the actual partying part," he whispers.

"i think i would remember such a boy attending my parties," he mutters, gaze flicking between shane's eyes and pink lips.

he gets to see those teeth again, almost baring them in an amused grin. "that so? you're not too… preoccupied with wooing every girl that throws herself at you?" his hands trail up ilya's exposed arms, coming to rest on his shoulders.

ilya hums, pleased with the slight pressure. he leans closer. his fingers daring to reach further up shane's denim-clad legs. "i think... i think i would leave them if i saw you."

shane all but purrs. his hands curl around ilya's neck and pull him closer. their faces inches apart, neither of them looking at the other's eyes. "why don't you show me?"

a sigh ilya didn't know that he was holding in is let out through his nose as shane's fingers tangle into his curls. their lips meet after what feels like an eternity (what was really only fifteen minutes). one hand stays high on shane's thigh while the other grasps for his waist. he drags shane closer to him as the other's arms tighten around his neck.

it's a little messy and entirely desperate. ilya feels more drunk than he actually is. shane's hot breath and little groans as ilya squeezes at just about anything he can drive him crazy. when shane's head tilts back, ilya is pressing kisses and scraping his teeth at the exposed skin of his throat.

his hands are lifting up shane's shirt and digging his blunt nails into the flesh of his pecs, roaming back to grope at his ass. when they're borderline grinding against one another in the very public setting of the kitchen, they're rudely interrupted by cliff.

"ilya! dude!" he trails off when his friend makes no effort to stop and listen. then he somehow audibly rolls his eyes. "fuck, man, at least get a room if you're going to do that right now." he scowls and stalks back into the ongoing party.

hollanov smau au!:)

personal trainer ilya discovers (assistant coach) shane hollander through an instagram post, and thirsts to hayden, who is on said team that shane coaches!

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