Self-Appointed Mushroom King

Posting Order

All-Stars 2011

It’s Ilya’s turn to roll his eyes. Enough of this beating around the bush, he decides. “So you are still with…?” 

He lets the sentence hang between them unfinished. Hollander will catch on quickly; their last off-ice conversation about his secret boyfriend is still fresh in Ilya’s memory despite the months that have passed. He has no doubt this is even more true for Hollander.

2007: Shane meets Brian at a party

Shane’s never been to a college party before but some of his older teammates on his U18 team insisted he come along. They want to teach him how to loosen up, and Shane’s not sure if they mean it as a favor or if they want to see him embarrass himself. 

The party is loud and uncomfortable, and everyone keeps insisting that Shane drink. Brian finds him there, alone in the crowd, lost and a little bit miserable, teammates scattered around in the wind.

2012: Ilya takes Shane back to his place for a chat after a Boston/Montreal game

“Cheer the fuck up,” Ilya calls, grinning when Hollander startles at his voice. “You should be used to losing to me by now.”

“Which one of us won the Calder, again?” Hollander asks, pocketing his phone. 

Ilya’s grin widens. He thinks he must be one of the only people in the world who knows what a bitch Shane Hollander can be. What a privilege.

2012: Ilya tells Sveta about "Jane" and "her" shitty boyfriend

It was her third short-lived relationship of the year. Sveta suffers from an unfortunate combination of high standards and terrible taste in men. It makes Ilya think of Hollander, who has the same trash taste but none of Sveta’s good judgment. 

Maybe Ilya could use her advice.

2013: Shane visits Ilya's place again after a game that Svetlana attended

It gets to a point where they’re texting almost daily. It’s almost like they’re friends, which is what gives Ilya the courage to suggest they hang out after a game again. 

Hollander accepts. They play video games and talk shit, and it’s fun, even though it’s not what Ilya’s been chasing Hollander for since they did that CCM commercial. At one point Ilya brings up Hollander’s boyfriend, only to get roundly shut down, and well. Message received.

2014: Brian tells Shane he wants to open up the relationship

Shane is determined for tonight to go well. He got food delivered from Brian’s favorite restaurant and picked up a bottle of his favorite wine to pair it with. He even busted out the candles. He’s not the best boyfriend, he knows, but he can at least show Brian that he’s trying.

MLH Awards 2014 part 1

Ilya spent the past week trying not to read into it but right now, he can’t remember why. Obviously, Hollander came to his senses and dumped his loser boyfriend, and he’s finally going to take Ilya up on his offer to fuck. It’s the only thing that makes sense.

Maybe Ilya is a little bit blinded by his winner’s high. But he’s also right, he knows it. Tonight is for getting everything he’s ever wanted, a feast to keep him sated through the lean summer weeks in Russia.

MLH Awards 2014 part 2

He’s never even admitted it to himself, how badly he’s wanted Ilya Rozanov, in a way he didn’t know he could want men who weren’t his boyfriend. The words slip easily from his tongue now, the shame that’s always accompanied that want a distant memory.

2007/2009/2012: Shane's first overnight with Brian, as well as Shane POV on how he is hiding it from his parents

Shane nods, guilt simmering in his gut at how easily Mom believes him. It’s because he’s never given her reason to doubt, never gotten in the kind of trouble other guys on the team and in his grade get into on a regular basis.

At least ask me some follow-up questions, Shane wants to shout, but he doesn’t. Obviously. He doesn’t actually want to be caught in a lie.

2014: Ilya POV: Shane and Ilya hook up after games

“Oh.” Hollander’s expression twists, lips tugging in a frown. “No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t tell me about other people, either. I don’t wanna know.”

“Sound healthy,” Ilya says dryly.

“Fuck you. Don’t you need to have been in a relationship to know what a healthy one looks like?”

Ilya resists the urge to tell Hollander that his relationship is so dysfunctional, a blind dog could see it. He doesn’t feel like being thrown out of bed just yet.

2014: Shane freaks out the morning after MLH awards; Shane and Brian several months after Brian opens the relationship

He thinks about telling Brian about Rozanov, but he’s not sure what the rules are. Brian hasn’t told him about anyone he’s fucked or is thinking about fucking. Maybe Shane should wait for him to bring it up. Brian hates it when he pesters him for constant clarification, and Shane doesn’t want to ruin his good mood. Better to just follow his lead and work through the rest of it on his own.

Besides, if Brian doesn’t know about Rozanov, he can’t tell Shane not to sleep with him again. Shane can’t pretend that’s not a little bit of a factor.

2015: Ilya and Shane at All-Stars (Ilya POV)

It makes Ilya want to claw his skin off a little bit, thinking about how long it's been since he last saw Shane Hollander naked. Knowing that in his absence, Hollander's boyfriend has been fucking him regularly, erasing the memory of Ilya's touch and replacing it with his own.

2015: Ilya and Shane at All-Stars (Shane POV)

It's difficult enough to turn Rozanov down for anything before they're in bed. Once they're actually naked, Shane has discovered there's pretty much nothing he doesn't want Rozanov to do to him.

2015: Hanging with Hayden

Hayden doesn't look convinced, but he doesn't push. It's one of the things that make him so easy to be friends with. He'll ask after Shane, try to set him up on dates, but he never pushes after the first no.

Sometimes Shane wishes he would, a little bit. It's not like he could tell Hayden anything, but if Hayden pushed, if he made Shane talk, it would at least release some of the pressure. It wouldn't be worth the fallout but it would at least be some kind of relief.

2015: Seeing Ilya After All-Stars

Shane doesn't think he's alone in feeling that something has changed. Rozanov doesn't mouth off during the face off like usual but he smiles when Shane meets his eyes, small and private. Shane finds himself smiling back, despite the conflicting feelings in his chest. It's impossible not to, with the way Rozanov is looking at him.

2015: continuation of previous scene, Ilya POV

His eyes flicker over Brian, curious and disdainful. He's handsome, Ilya supposes, or he would be to a person who knew less about his ugly personality. Tall and fit, his dark hair carefully styled and his face clean shaven. He's wearing a tailored suit, tie loosened around his neck. The way he's standing, it's clear he's using every bit of the tiny height advantage he has to tower over Shane.

Ilya hates him.

2015: continuation of previous scene, Shane POV

"I told you to find a guy to hook up with, not a second boyfriend!" Brian snaps, finally looking up. "Since last June, Shane? Why the fuck did you think that was okay?"

Shane flushes, stomach clenching tightly. He feels guilty and angry in equal measures, and above all confused about what he should be feeling. Brian has something of a point - if Shane really wasn't doing anything wrong, why would he be feeling like he just got caught?

2015: Ilya goes to NYC specifically to hook up with Shane

In hindsight, bragging to Shane's boyfriend about how he planned to steal him away right as Ilya was about to go three months without seeing him off the ice was maybe not the smartest move.

In-Universe Timeline Order

2007: Shane meets Brian at a party

Shane’s never been to a college party before but some of his older teammates on his U18 team insisted he come along. They want to teach him how to loosen up, and Shane’s not sure if they mean it as a favor or if they want to see him embarrass himself. 

The party is loud and uncomfortable, and everyone keeps insisting that Shane drink. Brian finds him there, alone in the crowd, lost and a little bit miserable, teammates scattered around in the wind.

2007/2009/2012: Shane's first overnight with Brian, as well as Shane POV on how he is hiding it from his parents

Shane nods, guilt simmering in his gut at how easily Mom believes him. It’s because he’s never given her reason to doubt, never gotten in the kind of trouble other guys on the team and in his grade get into on a regular basis.

At least ask me some follow-up questions, Shane wants to shout, but he doesn’t. Obviously. He doesn’t actually want to be caught in a lie.

All-Stars 2011

It’s Ilya’s turn to roll his eyes. Enough of this beating around the bush, he decides. “So you are still with…?” 

He lets the sentence hang between them unfinished. Hollander will catch on quickly; their last off-ice conversation about his secret boyfriend is still fresh in Ilya’s memory despite the months that have passed. He has no doubt this is even more true for Hollander.

2012: Ilya takes Shane back to his place for a chat after a Boston/Montreal game

“Cheer the fuck up,” Ilya calls, grinning when Hollander startles at his voice. “You should be used to losing to me by now.”

“Which one of us won the Calder, again?” Hollander asks, pocketing his phone. 

Ilya’s grin widens. He thinks he must be one of the only people in the world who knows what a bitch Shane Hollander can be. What a privilege.

2012: Ilya tells Sveta about "Jane" and "her" shitty boyfriend

It was her third short-lived relationship of the year. Sveta suffers from an unfortunate combination of high standards and terrible taste in men. It makes Ilya think of Hollander, who has the same trash taste but none of Sveta’s good judgment. 

Maybe Ilya could use her advice.

2013: Shane visits Ilya's place again after a game that Svetlana attended

It gets to a point where they’re texting almost daily. It’s almost like they’re friends, which is what gives Ilya the courage to suggest they hang out after a game again. 

Hollander accepts. They play video games and talk shit, and it’s fun, even though it’s not what Ilya’s been chasing Hollander for since they did that CCM commercial. At one point Ilya brings up Hollander’s boyfriend, only to get roundly shut down, and well. Message received.

2014: Brian tells Shane he wants to open up the relationship

Shane is determined for tonight to go well. He got food delivered from Brian’s favorite restaurant and picked up a bottle of his favorite wine to pair it with. He even busted out the candles. He’s not the best boyfriend, he knows, but he can at least show Brian that he’s trying.

MLH Awards 2014 part 1

Ilya spent the past week trying not to read into it but right now, he can’t remember why. Obviously, Hollander came to his senses and dumped his loser boyfriend, and he’s finally going to take Ilya up on his offer to fuck. It’s the only thing that makes sense.

Maybe Ilya is a little bit blinded by his winner’s high. But he’s also right, he knows it. Tonight is for getting everything he’s ever wanted, a feast to keep him sated through the lean summer weeks in Russia.

MLH Awards 2014 part 2

He’s never even admitted it to himself, how badly he’s wanted Ilya Rozanov, in a way he didn’t know he could want men who weren’t his boyfriend. The words slip easily from his tongue now, the shame that’s always accompanied that want a distant memory.

2014: Ilya POV: Shane and Ilya hook up after games

“Oh.” Hollander’s expression twists, lips tugging in a frown. “No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t tell me about other people, either. I don’t wanna know.”

“Sound healthy,” Ilya says dryly.

“Fuck you. Don’t you need to have been in a relationship to know what a healthy one looks like?”

Ilya resists the urge to tell Hollander that his relationship is so dysfunctional, a blind dog could see it. He doesn’t feel like being thrown out of bed just yet.

2014: Shane freaks out the morning after MLH awards; Shane and Brian several months after Brian opens the relationship

He thinks about telling Brian about Rozanov, but he’s not sure what the rules are. Brian hasn’t told him about anyone he’s fucked or is thinking about fucking. Maybe Shane should wait for him to bring it up. Brian hates it when he pesters him for constant clarification, and Shane doesn’t want to ruin his good mood. Better to just follow his lead and work through the rest of it on his own.

Besides, if Brian doesn’t know about Rozanov, he can’t tell Shane not to sleep with him again. Shane can’t pretend that’s not a little bit of a factor.

2015: Ilya and Shane at All Stars (Ilya POV)

It makes Ilya want to claw his skin off a little bit, thinking about how long it's been since he last saw Shane Hollander naked. Knowing that in his absence, Hollander's boyfriend has been fucking him regularly, erasing the memory of Ilya's touch and replacing it with his own.

2015: Ilya and Shane at All Stars (Shane POV)

It’s difficult enough to turn Rozanov down for anything before they're in bed. Once they're actually naked, Shane has discovered there's pretty much nothing he doesn't want Rozanov to do to him.

2015: Hanging with Hayden

Hayden doesn't look convinced, but he doesn't push. It's one of the things that make him so easy to be friends with. He'll ask after Shane, try to set him up on dates, but he never pushes after the first no.

Sometimes Shane wishes he would, a little bit. It's not like he could tell Hayden anything, but if Hayden pushed, if he made Shane talk, it would at least release some of the pressure. It wouldn't be worth the fallout but it would at least be some kind of relief.

2015: Seeing Ilya After All-Stars

Shane doesn't think he's alone in feeling that something has changed. Rozanov doesn't mouth off during the face off like usual but he smiles when Shane meets his eyes, small and private. Shane finds himself smiling back, despite the conflicting feelings in his chest. It's impossible not to, with the way Rozanov is looking at him.

2015: continuation of previous scene, Ilya POV

His eyes flicker over Brian, curious and disdainful. He's handsome, Ilya supposes, or he would be to a person who knew less about his ugly personality. Tall and fit, his dark hair carefully styled and his face clean shaven. He's wearing a tailored suit, tie loosened around his neck. The way he's standing, it's clear he's using every bit of the tiny height advantage he has to tower over Shane.

Ilya hates him.

2015: Continuation of previous scene, Shane POV

"I told you to find a guy to hook up with, not a second boyfriend!" Brian snaps, finally looking up. "Since last June, Shane? Why the fuck did you think that was okay?"

Shane flushes, stomach clenching tightly. He feels guilty and angry in equal measures, and above all confused about what he should be feeling. Brian has something of a point - if Shane really wasn't doing anything wrong, why would he be feeling like he just got caught?

2015: Ilya goes to NYC specifically to hook up with Shane

He also feels guilty about sleeping with Rozanov in the first place, even though it's exactly what Brian asked him to do. Maybe he should have told Brian about it before it happened. Maybe he should have picked someone he didn't already want to fuck - even though that would have brought his list of prospects down to zero.

This open relationship thing is stressful. Shane thinks he may not be built for it.

He goes to Brian's place after Vegas and even with the guilt eating Shane up from the inside, it's nice. Brian is more attentive than he's been in a while, showering Shane with praise and affection. The sex is better than it's been in a while, too.

(It's not as good as with Rozanov, a thought Shane mercilessly banishes as soon as it pops up.)

So their new relationship status is definitely working for Brian. Shane probably just needs time to adjust.

He thinks about telling Brian about Rozanov, but he's not sure what the rules are. Brian hasn't told him about anyone he's fucked or is thinking about fucking. Maybe Shane should wait for him to bring it up. Brian hates it when he pesters him for constant clarification, and Shane doesn't want to ruin his good mood. Better to just follow his lead and work through the rest of it on his own.

Besides, if Brian doesn't know about Rozanov, he can't tell Shane not to sleep with him again. Shane can't pretend that's not a little bit of a factor.

+

Months pass and Shane somehow settles into the new status quo.

Montreal plays Boston three times and he meets up with Rozanov after each game and has the best sex of his life. Rozanov texts him in between games, too, and more often than not it leads to sexting.

Shane doesn't like thinking about how even over text, Rozanov is still an amazing lay. He's got stability with Brian, he reminds himself. Love, commitment. That's not something Rozanov is ever gonna offer.

Not that Shane would want it even if he did. Because he loves his boyfriend.

Jesus Christ, dude, pull yourself together.

Brian doesn't tell him about any of his hook ups and Shane doesn't ask. Whoever he's fucking, it doesn't affect their sex life.

Shane can't say the same for himself. After his third time with Rozanov a need starts to set underneath his skin, an itch that sex with Brian just can't seem to scratch.

Shane feels awful about it, especially when Brian notices.

"You good, babe?"

They're naked in bed (the bed Rozanov fucked him in last month) and Shane is on his back, Brian nestled between his legs, hard cock brushing against his thighs. Shane's mind should not be wandering right now, and yet it has been.

"Yeah," Shane says, flushing guiltily when Brian shoots him a disbelieving look. "It's just. Um. Could you be... rougher, maybe? Hold me down?"

Shane rarely asks for things in bed. The things they normally do have always worked well enough for him that he hasn't felt the need to. He's certainly never had to make himself pay attention when his boyfriend's about to fuck him.

This is all Rozanov's fault. That fucker broke Shane's dick.

"Hold you down?" Brian repeats, a little incredulous. "You know you're way stronger than me, right?"

"I wouldn't be trying to really escape. Just... pretending."

Brian sits back on, a sour expression on his face. "Sure. That doesn't sound emasculating at all."

"How would that be emasculating?" Shane asks incredulously.

"You don't think I'm strong enough," Brian accuses. "Why else would you need to pretend different so you could get off?"

Frustration flares hotly in Shane's chest. Rozanov isn't stronger than him, either. When he holds Shane down, it's with the knowledge that it's a game, that Shane could throw him off if he really wanted to. That doesn't make it any less hot, or make Shane wish Rozanov was stronger.

"You're being ridiculous."

Brian blinks. "Fuck this," he mutters, and then he's climbing off the bed.

"You're leaving?" Shane asks, stunned.

"Obviously I'm not good enough to fuck you, so I won't pretend to be."

Shane sits up, his frustration now crushed under a rush of guilt. What the fuck his wrong with him? He's started comparing Brian to Rozanov in his head and now he's got his boyfriend thinking he's not good enough for him.

"I'm sorry," he says, reaching for Brian's arm, relieved when he doesn't pull away at his touch. "It was just an idea, I didn't mean - I'm happy with what we do. It's just been a stressful day."

Brian looks down at him, lips twisted in an unhappy frown. "Where did you get that idea?"

Shane should tell him. He doesn't know why he doesn't want to.

"Porn," he says finally, hoping the redness on his face can be mistaken for embarrassment.

"Hm." Brian turns to face him again, wrapping his arms around Shane's shoulders. His cock pokes Shane's chest in this position, thankfully still hard. "Well, if we're borrowing from porn, I've got a couple of things we could try instead."

Shane nods, relieved beyond measure that his slip-up didn't fuck up their whole night. "Whatever you want."

Brian smiles, petting his hair sweetly. "You're so good to me, babe."

The praise warms Shane, making his heart flutter. It doesn't matter if it isn't the same with Brian as it is with Rozanov, he decides. Brian is the one who loves him, the one who will stick around.

Besides, Rozanov is new and exciting. Surely he won't stay that way for long. Shane will get him out of his system in a few months and then, Brian will hopefully be ready to close the relationship again. They'll go back to the way things were, only better, because both of them will have sown their wild oats.

+

Something sours in Ilya's gut. It's not like he expected Hollander to dump his boyfriend of seven years after one night with him.... except who does he think he's kidding, that is absolutely what he thought.

After a night like that? Ilya doesn't think anyone should blame him. He doubts fucking Brian ever made Hollander come hands free, not if he can't even be bothered to eat him out.

"Are you okay?"

Ilya responds by biting the soft flesh of Hollander's thigh, grinning when Hollander gasps, hips twitching upwards.

He's just gonna have to keep going, he decides. One night was not enough but a few weeks or months of consistently amazing sex should do the trick. Ilya doesn't exactly love the idea of sharing Hollander for that long, but he can be patient.

To start with, tonight he'll suck Hollander's soul out of his dick.

But first, he'll make sure to wipe out every trace of his terrible boyfriend from Hollander's body and mind.

With that thought, Ilya places his mouth over the bruise and bites.

+

The first game of the season proper Boston beats Montreal and after, Ilya fucks Hollander in his own bed.

Hollander is tense when they start out. Maybe like Ilya, he's thinking of the fact that this is the bed where he sleeps with his boyfriend. Ilya doesn't mind; enjoys, in fact, putting Hollander on his hands and knees and fucking the tension out of him until he can barely stay upright.

They collapse on the mattress in the aftermath, sticky with sweat. Ilya turns his head to watch Hollander as they catch their breath, feeling smug at the dazed expression on his face.

"Where is your boyfriend tonight?" Ilya asks.

There were no hickeys this time but he's still fairly certain Hollander's relationship status hasn't changed and he wants to find out for sure.

"At home," Hollander says. "His place, I mean. We don't actually live together, it would be a logistical nightmare to keep hidden. He spends some nights here, I spend some nights at his, we make it work."

"Does he know I'm here?"

Hollander glances at him. "Why?"

Ilya shrugs one shoulder. "Just curious."

"Oh." Hollander's expression twists, lips tugging in a frown. "No, he doesn't. He doesn't tell me about other people, either. I don't wanna know."

"Sound healthy," Ilya says dryly.

"Fuck you. Don't you need to have been in a relationship to know what a healthy one looks like?"

Ilya resists the urge to tell Hollander that his relationship is so dysfunctional, a blind dog could see it. He doesn't feel like being thrown out of bed just yet.

"What about me?" he asks instead. "Do I get to know if you fuck anyone else?"

Hollander looks at him, startled. "Who else would I fuck?"

Ilya blinks. "Who - anyone you want to? You are aware that you're Shane Hollander, yes?"

Hollander's cheeks go bright red. It's a nice color on him, Ilya thinks.

"I know I'm successful," he mutters, like that's not a massive understatement. "But it's not like I could go out to a bar and pick someone up, you know? You're the only person besides Brian who knows I'm gay. I don't know how to find someone else I could trust to keep it secret."

"Hm." Ilya understands; it's the same reason men have been such a rare indulgence for him. It's also a sad reality he has no interest in dwelling on. "I see. So I am, what, last resort?"

Hollander rolls his eyes. "Oh, fuck off. You've got a different girl hanging off your arm every week, your ego doesn't need any more stroking."

"Still keeping up with me in the tabloids, I see."

Hollander smacks him in the face with a pillow.

+

They reach the bedroom and Shane feels Rozanov stumble for a moment before they both tumble onto the bed, Shane in Rozanov's lap.

His hands land on Shane's thighs, running over them and gently parting them further, shifting Shane in his lap so their hard-ons are pressed together. It's searing hot, even through four layers of fabric, and Shane can't help but grind down.

"Fuck," Rozanov mutters, breath hot on Shane's lips, fingers reaching up to hurriedly undo the buttons of Shane's shirt. "You want this?"

Shane nods, whining when Rozanov pulls his shirt off and buries his face in the crook of his neck, planting a series of wet kisses on overheated skin.

"How long?"

"Years," Shane gasps, hips still moving against Rozanov's. "I - fuck. Years."

He's never even admitted it to himself, how badly he's wanted Ilya Rozanov, in a way he didn't know he could want men who weren't his boyfriend. The words slip easily from his tongue now, the shame that's always accompanied that want a distant memory.

Rozanov groans and then his arm is around Shane, twisting them around and throwing Shane flat on the mattress. His body already blanketing Shane in the next moment, kissing every inch of skin within reach and hands groping roughly at his chest.

Shane's heart is pounding, blood rushing past his ears. He's never been thrown around like this before. Brian's in good shape but he's not strong like Rozanov, his body so big it feels like it dwarfs Shane's even though, logically, Shane knows they're about the same size.

"Can I fuck you?" Rozanov asks.

Shane's cock pulses, wetting his underwear with precum. "Yes. Please."

"So polite," Rozanov coos, giving Shane a quick peck on the lips.

Then he sits up, shrugging his shirt off and throwing it on the ground. He reaches for the zipper of Shane's pants and they finish undressing in a hurry, almost clumsy in their eagerness.

Shane expects Rozanov to start prepping him with the same hurried desperation but he takes his time, kissing a trail down the column of Shane's neck, down to his chest. His mouth closes around one nipple, teeth scraping it, and Shane can't hold back the animal whine that escapes his throat.

His head is spinning, world narrowed down to Rozanov's lips, his hands, his body on top of Shane's. Rozanov grabs his thighs, spreading them none too gently and Shane throws his head back, fingers twisting in the sheets.

He startles when Rozanov pushes his knees against his chest, tongue just barely grazing over Shane's hole before he startles away.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Shane chokes out.

He knows what Rozanov's doing, obviously. It's just - he's only seen it done in porn. He didn't realize it was something people did in real life. Brian's never done it, and Shane's never felt comfortable asking him to.

"Eating you out," Rozanov says, looking confused at Shane's confusion. "What do you mean, what am I doing?"

Shane swallows. "It's just - you don't think it's gross?"

"You're clean, yes?"

Blood rushes to Shane's cheeks. "Yeah, obviously."

"Okay, then what's the problem?" Something passes over Rozanov's face, impossible to read. "You haven't done this?"

Hot embarrassment spears through Shane.

"You will like it," Rozanov promises. "Pretty little hole like this, deserves nice treatment."

"Jesus, Rozanov," Shane laughs.

The laughter dissolves into a gasp as Rozanov dives back between his legs, pressing a wet, messy kiss right on Shane's hole. He licks it languidly, spearing his tongue and pushing inside.

Shane's skin prickles, limbs going fuzzy, cock hard and weeping against his stomach. Rozanov's tongue is so hot and wet, so wriggly, and it's unlike anything Shane's felt. He's enthusiastic, his drool coating Shane's inner thighs, the wet sounds of it echoing in the room much to Shane's embarrassment and arousal.

He doesn't even notice Rozanov has moved his hand until there's a finger pressing against his hole, wet with lube, sinking easily inside. It is quickly joined by a second, twisting, honing in on his prostate with unerring precision.

"So good for me sweetheart," Rozanov mutters, still pumping his fingers inside, fucking Shane with them. "You will take anything I give you, won't you?"

Shane nods mindlessly, moaning when he feels Rozanov's other hand grabbing his ass, spreading him wide open as he adds a third finger. He's watching, Shane realizes deliriously, watching his fingers disappear into Shane's hole over and over again, brushing his prostate on every pass.

"Fuck, Rozanov," Shane gasps. "Fuck me, ah - please."

He hears Rozanov say something in heated Russian and then he's pulling his fingers out so fast it almost hurts. Shane watches with lidded eyes as he leans over him, reaching for a condom in the bedside drawer. He's so hard it looks painful and so big it makes Shane's jaw ache to look at him. It's gonna be the biggest thing Shane's ever had inside him, the realization sending his head spinning.

Rozanov rolls on the condom. He grabs Shane's legs behind the knees, pushing them back and spreading them, the casual manhandling sending a bolt of heat through Shane's body.

"Okay?" Rozanov asks. His dick is brushing against Shane's inner thigh, the head catching on his rim and pushing just slightly, a merciless tease.

"Okay," Shane says, choking on his next breath when Rozanov starts pushing inside.

He's huge, splitting Shane apart relentlessly, working his way inside in tiny thrusts. It feels like half an eternity until he's all the way in, hips resting against Shane's.

Shane opens his eyes (when did he close them) and sees Rozanov staring down at him, lips slack, face red, looking wrecked already.

"God, Hollander," he pants. "So fucking tight, what are you, a virgin?"

For one delirious moment, Shane wishes he was. That Rozanov could have been the first man to have him like this. Shame rises in his chest in the next moment, threatening to choke him. What the fuck is he thinking?

Rozanov starts moving his hips and Shane's mind goes fuzzy again as his cock hits his prostate. He fucks into Shane in quick, shallow thrusts at first as he loosens up around his cock, going deeper and harder as Shane starts pushing into it, back arching.

He's fucking into Shane properly now, slamming his hips into Shane's so hard it almost hurts. Fucking the breaths out of Shane's chest, an embarrassing litany of soft 'ah ah ah's that Shane can't hold back. Rozanov leans in, nearly folding Shane in half as he kisses him messy and open-mouthed.

"That's it," Rozanov growls, "fucking take it."

And Shane does, and does, pleasure rolling over his body in waves, skin buzzing with it. Rozanov seems to be carving a new space for himself in Shane's body with each powerful thrust, laying claim to him. It's rough, animalistic in a way Shane didn't know sex could be for him.

The orgasm is building at the base of Shane's spine but it still catches him by surprise when it hits, crashing over him, cock spilling untouched between them.

"Are you - ?" Rozanov asks, slowing his thrusts.

Shane wraps his legs around his waist before he can pull out, still riding the aftershock. "Keep going."

Rozanov doesn't need to be told twice, pumping into Shane hard and uncontrolled, chasing his own pleasure now and making use of Shane's body to do it. It's too much, the sensation of his cock hammering Shane's prostate so intense it tips from pleasurable to painful.

Shane loves it.

A few more thrusts and then Rozanov's coming with a choked off groan, fingertips digging into Shane's skin so hard he knows it's gonna bruise.

Rozanov collapses next to him and Shane bites back a whine as his cock slips out, already missing the feeling of being full.

"Fuck," Rozanov sighs. "You have killed me, Hollander. I am dead."

Shane smiles helplessly, rolling over to tuck himself against Rozanov's side. Warmth blooms in his chest when Rozanov's arm settles around him, hand resting on his head and softly petting Shane's hair.

Rozanov hums. "Worth the wait?"

"Yeah," Shane says, and he's too fucked out but he thinks he should feel guilty about how much he means it.

Maybe opening up the relationship wasn't such a bad idea.

+

+

"You could just say it," Shane suggests with a wry smile. He prefers to be told things bluntly and clearly, even when the topic is uncomfortable.

"Right. Things haven't been great between us lately, have they?"

Shane straightens, stomach clenching. He wants to pull his hand back, but Brian is still holding onto it tightly. "I guess so," he agrees reluctantly.

Brian's not about to break up with him, is he?

It would be ideal timing, Shane recognizes distantly. The season is over, he'd have all summer to get over it before he's back on the ice. Or maybe next week would have been better, after the MHL awards in Vegas.

"I think part of the problem is we have so little time together," Brian says, pulling Shane's mind back. "We get frustrated in our time apart, and we take it out on each other."

That's not true, Shane wants to say. Brian's always the one to snap, the one to escalate a disagreement into a fight. But even as he's thinking it, Shane knows he's not being fair. They have different styles of communication, and Shane's bottling up of his emotions is no better than Brian's explosive anger.

"We've also been together for so long," Brian continues. "And I'm afraid we might have fallen into bad patterns."

"Are you breaking up with me?"

The words burst out of him without permission. Shane feels stupid and childish as soon as he's said them.

"Oh, babe," Brian says, squeezing his hand tighter. "Of course not. I love you and I want to be with you."

Relief floods Shane. He manages to give Brian a wobbly smile, which Brian returns, raising Shane's hand to his lips and kissing it.

"I was just thinking... how would you feel about opening up the relationship?"

Shane blinks. For a long moment, he doesn't understand what Brian is saying. It's such a foreign concept to him, a thing he knows other couples do but he never would have thought he'd need to consider.

"What?"

"I think it would be really good for us," Brian says. "Your schedule is so crazy and we can't always line up our free nights. I think this could really take the pressure off for when do find time to be together."

This must be a nightmare. "You want to fuck other people?"

"I want us both to be able to enjoy new experiences. It wouldn't mean we love each other any less. It would just be sex, no strings attached."

"I don't -" Shane's voice catches in his throat. He feels vaguely nauseous. "Are you tired of me?"

Brian pulls back his hand. "Of course not. Jesus, Shane, don't be so close-minded. I know you're surrounded by hockey people all the time and it's a really conservative culture, but open relationships aren't anything unusual. Most of my gay friends are in ones."

"They are?"

"Yeah. And if anything, it brings them closer together."

Shane can't believe he's considering this, but. He's still not over the shock of thinking Brian was about to break up with him. That the person he's been with his entire adult life, the person who's loved and supported him since before he was drafted, could be gone from his life just like that.

If Shane says no, will Brian just break up with him anyway?

"We can try it out," Shane says cautiously. "But I'm not sure - I don't know if I could sleep with someone else."

Briefly, inexplicably, Rozanov flashes through his mind. Shane's heart jumps and he chases the thought away.

Brian gets up, rounding the table to pull Shane in for a kiss. "You're so sweet, but don't say yes just for my benefit. This could be good for both of us. You should at least try."

"...Okay."

Shane can't say he's comfortable with the idea. It feels too much like cheating. But then, he wasn't exactly comfortable with sleeping with Brian at first, either, and that turned out to be one of the best decisions of his life.

Brian smiles at him fondly, stroking Shane's cheek with his thumb. "If it helps, you can think of it like practicing for a game."

The implication sits sour in Shane's gut but he ignores it. Brian's just trying to put it in terms Shane will relate to.

Brian stays the night. Once he's gone, having given Shane a lingering kiss goodbye, Shane pulls up his phone.

He scrolls down to Rozanov's contact. It still feels wrong, but Brian hasn't just given his blessing. He's explicitly encouraged Shane to seek someone else out for no-strings attached sex and if there's one person Shane knows is reliable for it, it's Rozanov.

Besides, it's not like Shane's swimming in other options.

Shane keeps this firmly in mind as he types out his message, ignoring the way his stomach twists in anticipation. He's not excited about this, he reminds himself. This is just an experiment, something he's doing because it will please Brian.

Could we meet up at the awards in private?

His phone buzzes a couple of minutes later with Rozanov's reply.

if you promise not to be a sore loser when i win mvp 😈

+

"She was at the game, wearing your jersey" Hollander says. His cheeks have gone faintly pink. He brushes past Ilya, pausing in the entryway to take off his shoes. "I just figured."

"Jealous?"

"Kind of," Hollander says, but before Ilya can feel too satisfied about that, he adds, "I mean, Brian doesn't really like hockey but. It'd be nice to have the option to invite him."

Not even remotely what Ilya meant.

Then Hollander's statement sinks in.

"Doesn't like hockey?" he repeats incredulously. Is the man aware that he's dating Shane Hollander? "What do you even talk about, then?"

"Fuck you, I like things that aren't hockey."

"Name one."

Hollander glares at him. "I'm not entertaining that."

Which gives Ilya an excellent opening to keep poking fun, but he's more interested in another line of query. "What does your boyfriend like, then? Fucking," he waves his hand, "stocks, or whatever?"

"Not really." Hollander settles on the couch, knees pulled up to his chest. "He's in finance because he's good at it, not because he's passionate about it. He likes baseball, though."

"Ah. So he's boring, this is what you have in common."

Hollander straightens one leg, kicking Ilya in the side. "Did you invite me here just to chirp me?"

"Yes," Ilya says, catching Hollander's foot when he predictably tries to kick him again. He squeezes it once before letting go. "You should be honored, I gave up a guaranteed chance of getting laid for this."

Hollander freezes. "But - you said she's not your girlfriend."

"She is just a friend," Ilya confirms. "But we fuck sometimes. I don't really do relationships."

"I've noticed."

"You've been stalking me in the tabloids?"

The comment is said quietly, and it takes Ilya a moment to parse what it means. He grins.

"Fuck off, no I haven't." Hollander clears his throat, looking off. "Hockey players like to gossip, it's impossible to avoid hearing about you."

Ilya hums, not sure if he believes him.

"Would you want to be in a relationship?" Hollander asks, surprising him. "If you met the right person?"

Ilya shrugs, uncomfortable. "Maybe. I haven't met them yet, so is hard to say."

He looks at Hollander across the couch to find him already staring back. Hollander flushes, caught, but doesn't look away.

It feels like a lie, even if it's not meant to be. Ilya can't picture himself in a relationship, can't picture a partner at least, but thinking about it sparks an ache deep in his chest.

The silence stretched between them, and for once in his life Ilya has no desire to fill it.

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"I don't know if I'd call your apartment 'the most private place in town'," Hollander comments dryly.

Despite the sarcasm his eyes dart around as he enters Ilya's apartment, earnestly curious. Ilya feels a little thrill as he watches Hollander toe off his shoes by the door, making himself just a little bit at home in Ilya's space.

"What do you mean?" Ilya asks, sitting down on the couch. Hollander sits next to him, a seat away. Too far, in Ilya's opinion.

"Just with the amount of people you must have brought back here, it must technically count as a public space."

"Wow," Ilya says, delighted. "This is what I get, opening my home to you?"

Hollander rolls his eyes. Then he narrows them at Ilya. "Wait, you didn't bring me back here to...?"

"You are so paranoid, Hollander." Ilya sits up straighter, as it occurs to him just why Hollander might have been acting so off. "Unless that old boyfriend of yours is, ah... out of the picture?"

"No," Hollander says. He looks off, shoulder slumping. "I mean, I don't think so. Fuck, maybe?"

Those last words are muffled, as Hollander rubs his hand over his face. Ilya thinks they should make him happy to hear, considering how long he's been waiting for these kinds of cracks to show, but he can't be. Not with how miserable Hollander looks.

"We had a fight last week," he finally admits. "He hasn't been replying to my texts since. I went to his place but he didn't answer, and I don't know how the fuck I'm supposed to apologize if he won't let me. I don't even know what I did wrong in the first place. And he always fucking does this. He gets pissed at me about something and just ignores me until he feels like it and I never know how long that's gonna be."

Ilya blinks. "Wow."

"Sorry," Hollander says, blushing. "I didn't mean to - I don't really have anyone to talk to about this."

"Not anyone?"

"No." Hollander shrugs, looking down at his lap. "No one else even knows I'm into guys. I'd be fucked if it got out, so."

"Not your parents?" Ilya asks.

Hollander shakes his head. "Some of Brian's friends know about him, but not about us. That's it. Except you know everything, I guess."

Ilya lets out a strangled sound. His chest feels tight, imagining Hollander carrying this all alone for so many years. With this huge secret on his shoulders and his piece of shit boyfriend just adding to the weight.

He's had no one to tell him that this Brian guy sounds like a fucking asshole.

No one except Ilya, who's not gonna waste any fucking time. "This Brian guy sounds like a fucking asshole."

Hollander goes stiff and shit, maybe Ilya could have worded that more gently.

"He's not," Hollander says. "I know I made him sound pretty bad but it's just - we got into an argument, that's all. Couples fight."

"But then ignoring you for days? That's not an argument, Hollander, he is punishing you."

Hollander's cheeks have gone pink, and it's only then that Ilya realizes he might feel embarrassed. Like Ilya is judging him for his poor taste in men, or for allowing himself to be treated badly. As if Ilya doesn't respect him more than the rest of the MHL put together.

"He needs space after we fight. If anything, I'm the asshole for pushing him to make up."

Okay, so Ilya fucked this up. He doesn't know how to fix it; the right words seem impossible to find in this stupid language.

"Alright, if you say," he says, holding his hands up in surrender. "I do not know this man." Then, unable to resist, he adds, "Just that he likes fucking teenagers."

Hollander huffs. "Okay, fuck you."

He makes to get up and Ilya grabs his arm, sick at the thought that Hollander might leave feeling worse. That Ilya would have made him feel worse.

"I'm sorry, I'll stop. Don't leave."

Hollander glares at him but allows Ilya to pull him back down, slumping into the couch.

"You don't know him," Hollander says, as if daring Ilya to repeat himself.

"I don't," Ilya agrees instead.

"He's good to me most of the time."

"I'm sure he is," Ilya lies through his teeth.

Hollander's glare finally softens. "I just - I don't want you to think I'm putting up with something I shouldn't."

A pang goes through Ilya's chest. He hesitates for a moment before agreeing this time. "I don't."

Hollander nods, satisfied.

Well.

This was a disaster. Ilya thinks he may be woefully unequipped to deal with this kind of situation. If he didn't think Hollander would bolt like a scared rabbit he might try to seduce him away from his awful boyfriend but as is, Ilya is up a creek without a paddle.

"Thanks for listening," Hollander awkwardly offers. "Or sorry about ruining your night, I guess."

"You ruined nothing," Ilya assures him. He straightens as something occurs to him. "Give me your phone."

Hollander reaches into his pocket, the movement seemingly automatic because he freezes just as he's about to hand the phone over. "Why?"

Ilya grabs it, and punches in his number. "In case you get into another argument and need to complain. I promise I will be less shitty about it next time, okay?"

Hollander eyes him suspiciously. "Why are you being so nice?"

"I am very nice, everyone knows this."

"You were voted third most punchable in the league last year," Hollander reminds him.

Fair enough. "I am nice to people who deserve it. You may be slow fucking hockey player with a weak backhand-"

"A weak backhand?"

"-but you are a decent person. You deserve to be treated nicely."

Ilya thinks maybe he pushed it too far with that last statement when Hollander looks away, blinking rapidly. He turns his head, pretending to be very interested in some lint on his pants while Hollander pulls himself together.

"Thanks," Hollander eventually says. "You, uh. You too."

Ilya swallows past the sudden lump in his throat and says nothing. He's not a decent person. A decent person would have found a way to actually make Hollander feel better.

At least, Ilya thinks grimly, he's better than fucking Brian.

+

He lets the sentence hang between them unfinished. Hollander will catch on quickly; their last off-ice conversation about his secret boyfriend is still fresh in Ilya's memory despite the months that have passed. He has no doubt this is even more true for Hollander.

Sure enough, Hollander's eyes widen. He looks around, shoulders tensing, but Ilya's not stupid. The room is loud and there's no one close by to overhear. With their backs to the wall they have an easy vantage point to spot anyone approaching. This is as private a conversation as they're gonna get a chance to have.

Hollander seems to realize this, because his posture relaxes. "Yeah, still with. I hate to disappoint but we've been together since I was sixteen. We're trying to stick it out for the long run."

Damn. Ilya takes a sip of his beer to hide his disappointed frown.

He should take this as his cue to walk away. But he's curious.

"You are, ah, high school sweethearts?"

"Kind of?" Hollander shrugs. "I mean, he wasn't in high school when we started dating."

This strikes Ilya as odd. "You are dating an old man?"

"Fuck off, he's only four years older than us."

Four years. So he was twenty to Hollander's sixteen when they started seeing each other. It's not such a terrible difference, Ilya supposes. He's known couples with much bigger age gaps, including his own parents.

It still feels wrong, somehow. Hollander seems naive even now. At sixteen he would still have been practically a child.

Still, it's not Ilya's place to judge.

"Hm. And this dinosaur has a name?"

Hollander glares at him. "Brian. And he's not a dinosaur, he's a post grad student." His voice turns warm, proud. It irritates Ilya to hear. "He's majoring in finance."

"Smart guy, then."

"Probably too smart to be dating a stupid hockey player, yeah."

The self-depreciating statement strikes another odd note for Ilya. Hollander is a rich, gorgeous superstar on his way to a historic rookie season, a generational talent matched only by Ilya himself. Why he would even joke about not being good enough in any way for his ugly old boyfriend is beyond Ilya.

Hollander looks off, posture gone stiff and awkward again. "We, uh, we should probably socialize some more. People will think it's weird if they notice how long we've been talking."

Sadly, Ilya can't really disagree. He gives Hollander a suitably macho pat on the shoulder, not quite able to resist the urge to let his hand linger. His fingers just barely brush the bare skin on the nape of Hollander's neck.

"Well, when this Brian dies of old age, you know where to find me."

"Fuck you, Rozanov," Hollander says, but he sounds amused.