hood - hollanov - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 364 - slightly NSFW - click here to see my microfic archive!
Ilya hadn’t anticipated this problem.
When Bood had decided to make his latest cookout a themed party, he’d actually been thrilled, always the first to be excited about a good theme. He’d been the one to suggest that Haas’s most recent birthday party be My Little Pony-themed since he was, in fact, still an infant.
But the ‘dress like your teenage self’ idea was turning out to be a big mistake. Not only because 19-year-old fuckboy Ilya Rozanov seemed to be allergic to the concept of sleeves, which didn’t do well in the current Ottawa winter, but because thinking about 19-year-old Shane Hollander brought back only the most dangerous of memories. The kind that got Ilya rock-hard.
So now here they both were, ready for the party, standing in their shared bedroom, dressed like they might have at that fateful CCM photoshoot: Ilya in an old Raiders’ t-shirt with cutoff sleeves that showed all of his muscular arms and Shane in a faded blue hoodie and old gym shorts. Ilya could swear both were authentic, as memories of peeling them slowly off of a much younger Shane before making him whine his last name in pleasure were currently flooding his brain and making him dizzy with arousal.
The whole thing–the mixture of the memories of before, when they’d been so young, so unsure, so scared; and now, with the freedom to adore each other like they’d always wanted–plus Shane’s big eyes peeking out from under his hood….it made Ilya’s whole body go hot. Suddenly, a cookout was not the priority.
“Shane,” he groaned and stumbled closer, knowing he didn’t need any words. Just looking at his husband, at the wrecked expression on his face, at the desire pouring out of him…he knew that they were on the same page.
Shane smirked a little, biting his lip as he sat on the bed, spreading his legs slightly in a way that made Ilya’s mouth go bone-dry. “Rozanov?”
He quickly pulled out his phone.
Ilya: Party theme is great idea. We love it very much. So much we will not be joining you. Do not call me for next several hours.
Bood: Fuckin’ perverts