Hollander forbids him from actually fucking him, since he doesn't want to be sore for the skills competition or the games themselves, even though nobody takes them seriously.

Ilya pins him face down, pushes his thighs together and fucks his dick between them, cockhead pressing teasingly against Hollander's rim on every push. When Hollander starts whining loudly, Ilya shuts him up with three fingers shoved roughly in his mouth.

He finishes between Hollander's legs, then flips him over and swallows his cock down. Hollander comes like a shot down Ilya's throat, biting down on his own fingers to muffle the sounds.

They rest for a while and go a second round, trading lazy handjobs and kissing until their lips feel numb.

It's a good night.

Convincing Hollander to meet up the second night is even easier than the first and Ilya mentally congratulates himself on a job well done so far.

It takes them longer to sneak out unseen than the previous day but Ilya refuses to feel rushed. Once they're in his room he takes his time, stripping Hollander's clothes off one by one and kissing him slowly and languidly, laying him out on the bed like a meal to be savored.

He brings Hollander near the edge with his hand, and then his mouth. By the second thwarted orgasm Hollander is already writhing, hips thrusting uselessly into the empty air and hand grasping Ilya's shoulder so tightly, he knows it's gonna bruise.

"Fuck," he breathes, voice threaded high. "Fucking - let me come, Rozanov."

Ilya kisses his stomach. "No. Is more fun this way."

"Fun for who?" Hollander demands.

"You like it," Ilya says decisively. "You like having to earn your reward."

Hollander considers that. "What do I have to do to earn it?"

Ilya hadn't thought quite that far. He feels a little bit like a big cat, playing with his meal. All he knows is he's not ready to eat just yet.

He also wants to see just how far he can push Hollander.

"Tell me about your first time."

Hollander looks down at him, brows furrowing. "What - why?"

"I want to see if I can do it better," Ilya says, grinning.

"That's sick, Rozanov."

Ilya hums. Hollander's cock is inches away from his face, from where Ilya's been pressing kisses into his overheated skin. It's still rock hard.

"Is it? You get off on competition."

Hollander's lips twist. "It's not a competition."

"Everything can be a competition," Ilya disagrees.

"That's not - it doesn't matter. It's not a sexy story, anyway. It would kill the mood."

"It's a story about you having sex," Ilya says. "What's the problem, exactly?"

Hollander shrugs, the motion clumsy since he's currently resting on his elbows. "It was just... awkward. You remember what it was like being a teenager."

Ilya raises his eyebrows. "Oh, you assume I was having sex when I was a teenager? You think I'm a slut like you?"

Hollander's cock twitches. Interesting. "Don't even try."

"Alright," Ilya concedes. "It was awkward, but I was having sex with other awkward teenagers. You had a... ah, senior citizen? To guide you."

"Fuck off," Hollander says, so quick Ilya knows it's mostly instinct. "I'm just saying, I didn't know what the hell I was doing. It was weird."

Now Ilya is curious. "Tell me."

Hollander looks conflicted. He shifts on his elbows, abs twitching at the movement. "We were in the backseat of his car, the first time. He like... crawled on top of me? It was really cramped, so he had me pretty much pinned down."

The mental image is both enticing and repulsive. Hollander looks good pinned down, but Ilya finds that he viscerally hates the idea of another man doing the pinning.

"And then?" Ilya asks, because he's a glutton for punishment.

"He took my hand, to show me where to put it. We gave each other handjobs, and then he drove me home."

"What a way with words," Ilya says flatly. "You are sure you're a hockey player, not a poet?"

Hollander rolls his eyes. "I told you it wasn't a sexy story."

"Or maybe you are a bad storyteller."

Hollander kicks him. Ilya grabs his foot and uses the leverage to push his legs apart, grinning when Hollander easily lets him.

"Is okay," Ilya says. "I will show you how a real first time should go. This fancy hotel room is no backseat of a car, but we will make do."

Hollander rolls his eyes.

It's a pity Ilya won't be able to fuck that attitude out of him until tomorrow.

Tonight he'll have to make do with edging him until he cries.

+