It seemed as though everything he learned sexually that he actually enjoyed was because of Ilya Rozanov, not that he ever let him explore very much outside of his arch-rival. Shane did still hook up with women, from time to time, but it was very un-eventful. None of it was like this, where he was half-tempted to lean his head back and relax into the arms that were holding him so close…
No. This was beyond just something casual, it had to be. But did he want it to be? More so, did they want it to be? It was too much to consider. There was no way they could have more, and Shane was still convinced this was just an exploratory exercise, that he'd find he right woman, and this would end. Or that Rozanov would cut it off.
As the years passed and neither happened and he found his obsession with his arch-rival only growing, finding himself craving these moments, while also finding them terrifying. Too intimate. "Worth it? Ask me after my flight tomorrow." They have showered together, fooled around there often, but letting Ilya fuck him without a condom as new.
Intimate. Sometimes emotionally intimate. Touching him deeper than anything Rozanov could do physically. Which was never the point. This was just supposed to be about getting off with someone else, right? It was never meant to mean anything? But considering how their third fuck of the night had gone, now his chest is tightening with anxiety. The question brings him into the present. "Ask me after my flight tomorrow if this was worth it." Because he would be sore, would have been without a second or third fucking, but he wouldn't regret it tomorrow anymore than he regretted it now - which was not at all in this moment.
Instead of saying anything else, he leaned his head back, resting it on the shoulder of the man leaning over him. He would have turned, but he was just as reticent to break the contact between them. "If it fucks up my away game, you'll never hear from me again." A joke. It wouldn't. It never has. Shane plays better after meeting with Rozanov, no matter how sore he is, though he'd never admit that aloud. "And I mean that." He needed to separate something, some part of this. If Rozanov wasn't going to, and considering how he was practically washing his body (not as though Shane was pulling away), he needed to at least say something.
Fucking a girl (or someone) in every city gave Ilya Rozanov the anonymity of these hookups that Shane was not afforded. Shane might have had some illicit hookups over the years, but very few and far between. Less than the times he'd been hooking up with his rival since his rookie season. Continuously squashing down his desires when hooked up with women and swallowing any potential idea of hooking up with men, he relished in these nights. "I might hate you tomorrow night while on that flight." He tries to play it off as a joke, but he won't, couldn't hate the man wrapped around him, holding his hand and lathering his chest. Fuck. What the fuck was he doing here?
