when ilya makes shane âââtell him what to doâââ as a power move :))) because it gets him off to watch shane be all squirmy and embarrassed and push through it anyway JUST BECAUSE ilya told him tooooooo :)))
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lucas haas drunk and buzzing after winning rookie of the year, somehow climbed into cliff marlows lap and is grinding away, desperate and begging, whining and crying
meanwhile cliff marlow is experiencing the second coming of christ, he never knew he needed a rookie in his lap begging to come in his pants, while he himself is so close he can taste it jesus christ is this how roz feels?
Exactly an hour and forty-five minutes after accepting Rookie of the Year, Luca Haas takes his first shot with the veterans.
Cliff is in charge of this particular rite of passage now, because Scott Hunter quit hanging out with them after the show ever since he got gay married, and Ilya has already slipped off somewhere (presumably to go fuck Hollander, though Cliffâs pretty sure most of the other guys at the bar donât know that) and with no one else stepping up to show the rookies how to fuckinâ party, he had taken it upon himself to make sure it got done and done correctly.
He scruffs Haas gamely behind his neck and gives his shoulders a shake as the booze burns its way down his throat. Atta boy, nice going rook, congrats man, fuckinâ beauty, you. A flush rises in the boyâs face, and itâs far too early for the alcohol to be the cause.
Heâs a good looking kid, Haas. Sandy hair and green eyes and supermodel bone structure barely concealed beneath a stubborn layer of baby fat. Girls would be tripping over themselves to get at him.
An hour and fifteen minutes after his first shot, Luca has had many more, and is solidly inebriated. Heâs standing (less standing and more leaning-on-for-dear-life, really) beside Cliff as they chat with the goalie for the Guardians, and once the man finally says goodnight, Luca leans closer.
He presses his groin against the back of Cliffâs dangling free hand, and itâs at this point that Cliff realizes with a jolt that Haas is hard as a rock.
âMister Marleau,â he sighs, batting his pale lashes up at Cliff like a goddamn cartoon. âCan I ask you a personal question?â
Luca smiles, blushing all the way. âItâs just⌠I heard a rumor,â he giggles. Giggles. Like a fuckinâ schoolgirl. âAbout you and Cap, back in the day.â
Oh God. âYeah? And what was that?â
âWell, Iâve heard that⌠when you won really big⌠like the Cup, or one of these things,â he says with a gesture to the after party around them, âyou two would take a trip together to celebrate. A trip to Paris.â
Cliff suddenly fears he is going to pass out. All the blood has reversed course from his brain to his dick in a rush thatâs so fast it makes him dizzy. This young, talented, gorgeous rookie is hinting that heâs aware, however vaguely, of his and Ilyaâs past sexual exploits. Why is that turning him on?
And why does he answer: âYeah, haha, we went a couple times together. To celebrate.â
Lucaâs smile grows hungry and slightly wild. âTo celebrate,â he repeats. âI did good, too. I won. Best of my draft class.â A whine has crept into his voice, and heâs leaning so close to Cliff that his lips are almost brushing his neck.
âWill you help me celebrate my big night, Mister Marleau? Please?â
Cliffâs cock kicks in his pants. Ilya was going to kill him.
Then again, Ilya isnât here.
Cliff turns his free hand where it still hangs at his side. He cups Lucaâs erection through his nice tailored pants and delights in the tiny, breathy moan the boy lets slip as he grinds forward into Cliffâs hand. Heâs pretty when he needs something, Cliff realizes.
âTell you what,â Cliff murmurs, âIâm gonna give you my extra room key. 1733. You head upstairs and wait for me, okay? And if you change your mind, no hard feelings. I get it. In the meantime, Iâm gonna make the rounds again. Iâll be up there soon. Then⌠then weâll celebrate, baby. Okay?â
It still gives him a plausible out. An exit strategy. Maybe Luca will chicken out. Maybe heâs drunk enough that heâll get up there and just pass out on Cliffâs bed. Both of those things would be fine. But if Luca really wants this⌠well. It takes two to tango or whatever.
Luca takes the proffered room key. âDonât take too long,â he purrs as he pockets it. âIâll be waiting.â
Luca departs. Cliff watches him go, then makes his rounds. Says his goodnights and goodbyes and congratulations one more time. Then, twenty minutes later, he heads for the elevators.
He is ready for an empty room. He is ready for an out-cold rookie starfished on his bed. He is even ready for an awkward, second-guessing kid who will stammer apologies as his nerve fails and he squirms out the door.
He is not at all prepared for the sight of Luca Haas, rookie of the year, naked on his bed, his ass in the air, two fingers working in and out of his hole as deep as he can get them, eyes glassy and needy as they latch onto Cliff in the doorway.
âPlease,â he moans. âPlease fuck me, Marleau. Iâve been so good. Please.â
Cliff Marleau is a lot of things. But heâs also only human.
âOkay, baby,â he says quietly as he approaches the bed. âEasy, doll. Relax. Let Daddy take care of you.â
Exactly three and a half hours after he accepts the award for rookie of the year, Luca Haas comes on Cliff Marleauâs long, thick cock, and theyâre both pretty sure they see the face of God.
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hollanov free use but for like, touching. looking. sex too, of course, but sometimes ilya just wants to find shane where he is in the house and hold him close with his arms wrapped around him, slipping his hand down the back of shane's pants so he can pet his hole, shane sighing sweetly against ilya's neck. ilya holding his fingertips there and feeling the reflexive clench. kissing shane on the cheek and patting him on his butt before sending him on his way to keep doing whatever he was doing, watching him wobble away on shaky knees, dazed. ilya finding him prepping food in the kitchen, making him lower his pants and lean back against the counter, his hands planted there, not allowed to touch himself while ilya stares at his hardening dick for a few minutes, a little predatory, a little lecherous, standing a few feet away and not letting shane move. and then he simply leaves the room when he's had his fill and made shane writhe and whimper from feeling so exposed. ilya demanding that shane text him pictures of his hole while he's out to dinner with rose, making him excuse himself so he can go contort himself in a bathroom stall and try to get a good angle. he's not allowed to say no and he loves that <3
ilya treating shane's inner thighs like a chew toy. they've gone a couple of rounds and are all loose-limbed and sleepy, and ilya just finished blowing shane but he's not ready to move so he just. doesn't. just stays there between shane's legs, biting and licking and sucking hickeys into the sensitive skin of shane's inner thighs.
it feels good, obviously, and shane's too worn out to get hard so he lays there and enjoys it, one hand in ilya's hair, lazily petting it.
they have practice a couple of days later and shane has honestly forgotten all about it until they're hitting the showers and he's getting undressed and he hears someone say, "holy shit, dude."
he looks up to see hayes studiously avoiding his eyes, cheeks bright pink. he's not the only one; at least five different centaurs are looking anywhere but at shane, faces red and expressions guilty. shane looks down at himself, realizing for the first time just how dark and numerous the marks on his inner thighs are.
he looks back up, catching ilya's eyes this time. "oops," ilya says, shrugging.
shane has to go take a cold shower immediately because the discovery that his exhibition kink is applicable to real life and not just a thing he wants to fantasize about + ilya's completely blasĂŠ attitude about marking him up so blatantly is doing things to him that cannot be happening in the centaurs' locker room.
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Hollanov loOOoVe kissing oh my god they love it soso muchhhh. Now that they're actually together and they have this incredibly valuable resource called time, they just spend hours and hours making out, long lazy stretches of time where they're just exchanging indulgent kisses back and forth. It's insane. They emerge from their little necking love nest with their hair all fucked up, lips swollen and spit-shiny, mouths BRIGHT red almost bruised, all dreamy and dazed. I think they could both get off just from kissing, I really do
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hollanov free use but for like, touching. looking. sex too, of course, but sometimes ilya just wants to find shane where he is in the house and hold him close with his arms wrapped around him, slipping his hand down the back of shane's pants so he can pet his hole, shane sighing sweetly against ilya's neck. ilya holding his fingertips there and feeling the reflexive clench. kissing shane on the cheek and patting him on his butt before sending him on his way to keep doing whatever he was doing, watching him wobble away on shaky knees, dazed. ilya finding him prepping food in the kitchen, making him lower his pants and lean back against the counter, his hands planted there, not allowed to touch himself while ilya stares at his hardening dick for a few minutes, a little predatory, a little lecherous, standing a few feet away and not letting shane move. and then he simply leaves the room when he's had his fill and made shane writhe and whimper from feeling so exposed. ilya demanding that shane text him pictures of his hole while he's out to dinner with rose, making him excuse himself so he can go contort himself in a bathroom stall and try to get a good angle. he's not allowed to say no and he loves that <3
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