It was all about saving one human, right?

His brother does.

His brother calls him, forgetting that Ilya went no-contact with him. Ilya's silent on the phone, listening to Alexei's wife softly explain it to him and take the phone.

He texts Ilya, asking when where he is. Asking who he's playing next game.

Ilya's been retired for over 20 years.

He knows Shane wants to say something, but he never does. He's just quietly supportive.

One day, it's Alexei's wife that calls him. She apologizes for calling. She tells him Alexei doesn't remember her anymore. Or their daughter. He only asks about Ilya and their parents. She offers to delete Ilya's number from his phone.

Ilya declines.

After that, he starts answering the phone. And talking.

Alexei asks where he is. Ilya tells him he's coming home soon. That seems to make Alexei happy.

Alexei asks who Ilya is playing. Ilya says Montreal. Alexei tells him to win or papa will be angry.

Alexei tells him mama made him soup. Ilya tells him that was his daughter. Alexei laughs, he doesn't have a daughter.

He doesn't remember how cruel he was to Ilya. He doesn't remember how much he loved drugs and drinking.

He was so much like Ilya's Alexei, before he started taking after their father. Before he let his anger at their mother consume him. Before he caught Ilya and Sasha and allowed his fear for his little brother to turn into anger and disgust.

One day Ilya offers his wife, Natalia, to have them visit. Their daughter has visited more than once, even stayed with them for a summer after high school. His and Shane's kids tried to teach her hockey.

Natalia regretfully tells him Alexei is not well enough to travel.

Ilya can't travel to them, not while he's married to Shane.

But their phone calls are enough.

About once a week, he gets to speak to a version of his brother than he had dearly missed. He gets to talk about his mama like she's still live, not dead for over 50 years. He gets to talk about the rink he and Alexei used to play hockey at. To talk about the stray cat he and Alexei once hid in their bedroom for a week.

He finds himself looking forward to the phone calls.

when they’re finally alone after a game (after weeks of anticipation… a fresh haircut, new cologne, tailored jeans that fit just right) and they’re just all over each other. So desperate, like their skin has been on fire for weeks and the other one is the only salve that works.

And it’s all furious energy after the game and the waiting… but as they fall into the bed and it’s happening so quickly and it will be over so quickly….

they both do everything they can to draw it out without the other noticing.

Shane is trying to make his abnormally precise clothes folding seem teasing and tempting instead of a moment to take in Ilya’s presence, his eyes on Shane’s skin.

Just as Shane is about to come Ilya remembers just how short the countdown is between Shane’s orgasm and Shane leaving him alone again. So Ilya edges him to tears, revelling in Shane’s desperation but also just trying to delay the inevitable for as long as possible.

And if Shane just happens to make a mess across both of their stomachs…

And if Ilya just happens to suggest that they shower together again…

And if a shower turns into sleepy third round handjobs and they both just flop onto the hotel bed exhausted to take a nap…

Ilya pinned down by Shane's muscled thighs, arms handcuffed to the bed frame, nipples raw and red from being tease for hours. His dick leaking and borderline purple from how hard it is. He cries and begs for Shane to pleasepleasepleasetouchmeShenyaplease

Shane working Ilya's thick, hot cock over and over, wringing orgasm after orgasm out of him until Ilya's reduced to nothing but whining, babbling and sobbing, telling him that he can take it, just one more for him baby, just one more.

Ilya on his knees at the edge of the bed, eating Shane out, chin slick with spit, whimpering at the taste and shivering at the condescending praises coming out Shane's mouth

"What a good boy, doing the only thing you're good at. Nothing but a pretty toy for me, just a hot mouth for me to use. You like it, baby? Like how I taste? You're right where you're meant to me. Just a pretty thing between my legs"

Shane riding Ilya hard and fast, stopping every time Ilya's whimpers get too high, a sign he's about to cum. He keeps him on the edge for hours, loving every broken moan and whine he forces out of Ilya's lips.

"Only thing you're good for, you don't get to cum. I need your big, useless cock to get myself off since you just can't do it right, huh baby? Just a hole drunk whore for me"

Ilya fucking Shane, trying to keep a steady pace as Shane whispers how good of a puppy he's being, fucking his owner just like he likes into his ear, gasping at Shane's hand twisted into his curls, yanking until spikes of pain shoots straight to his dick.

Shane deciding that Ilya should be punished for the little fight he got into on the ice, not allowing him to touch Shane the way he wants to. If Ilya wants to get off, he has to by only fucking Shane's barely squeezed together thighs.

It's not enough friction to make him cum, he tries to anyway when Shane tells him he must cum now or he won't for a week.

“this is how you fuck, shane,” ilya says, and shane can only whimper in return because he’s been on the very very edge for ages and ilya’s chest hair rubs ever so slightly against his oversensitive cock and his brain is filled with cum cum cum please can i cum but ilya hasn’t given him permission yet.

one of ilya’s hands leaves shane’s hip and lifts up to his flushed cheek, patting it lightly, with a hint of condescension.

“you wanted to try topping, yes?” and shane nods furiously, hot tears steaming down his face into ilya’s palm. “then you should learn how to do it properly.”

“ilya, please, i can’t—” shane whines when ilya’s other hand drifts to the moving tip of his cock, caressing it with the pad of his thumb every time it appears from between his pecs.

“ah no, no, shane, you cannot come,” ilya tuts, giving shane’s cheek a small slap. “how can you top me if you come so fast? you would not want me to come first?”

shane shakes his head, then nods, then shakes his head again, because he honest to god can’t figure out which one it’s supposed to be. “yes, yes, ilya, please, want to please you… want you to come so bad…”