Respectfully Freaky

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His archrival was not the impenetrable monolith he pretended to be - in fact, the cool, calm, and composed golden boy of Canada was nowhere to be seen. Here, in the privacy of his beach house, Ilya felt like he was being given the rare opportunity to see the real Hollander.

The real Hollander squirmed. Blushed.

Somewhere in the last few days, Ilya had started taking mental notes every time it happened, cataloguing every reaction in the hopes of figuring out a way to make it happen again.

It was what he was thinking about when he fucked his fist into oblivion on the couch.

In the aftermath, as he came down from his high, he thought about all the reasons it was a bad idea to sleep with his archrival - a man who now suddenly knew him better than his own family.

They would be spending time together now that they knew each other's secrets, and it wasn't the same as it was with Svetlana. Hollander was like him. He understood - about the ice, and the sea. And although Ilya had always enjoyed their chemistry on the ice, he never could have imagined it could translate into something so beautiful as when they were gliding beneath the waves.

He didn't want to fuck any of this up. He couldn't be alone again.

If only the rest of his body would get on board with that thought process.

It would help if Hollander wasn't constantly teasing his self restraint. It was his freckles Ilya noticed the first time they met, but now, after being in such close proximity for the past few days, it was becoming more than that. It was his dark lashes, his lush lips, his glowing skin and ripped body that he obviously put a lot of care and attention into, and on the few occasions Ilya had been fast enough to catch sight of it, there was also his round, pert ass. It was impossible to stop noticing these things. And it was worse, because Hollander seemed oblivious to the effect he was having.

Ilya sighed and rolled over on the couch to get away from the glare of the morning sun.

Was it really such a big deal if they fucked? He fucked Svetlana all the time. It didn't have to mean anything.

This was all Ilya wanted: to fuck Hollander out of his system so he could move on into less dangerous waters. Nice, safe women who wouldn't threaten his career and safety if they were caught by the paparazzi.

The sound of the door to Hollander's room opening had him peeking over his shoulder. As the man entered the living room, fully dressed and beelining for the kitchen, Ilya quickly pushed himself to sit up and made a show of stretching his arms out, flexing them over his head.

"Morning, Hollander," he grunted out.

Hollander ducked his head, avoiding eye contact. "Good morning," he mumbled as he passed him by.

Ilya caught the hint of red on his cheeks and felt that satisfaction instantly flood through him. He tried to push it down. Hollander already seemed even more skittish than he was yesterday.

Ilya wondered if it had anything to do with what he was doing on the couch last night. He was pretty sure Hollander had caught some of it. Minutes after the Hollander's shower had cut off, the back of Ilya's neck had prickled with awareness, like someone was watching him.

His cock had thickened and hardened all on its own, just from the thought of Hollander secretly checking him out, and when he thought about why Hollander might be watching, he couldn't seem to stop himself from starting something. Showing himself off to his arch rival.

Hollander had denied it, but he had been right when he implied Ilya was a slut. Last night, Ilya had been a slut for Hollander's attention - even just the possibility of it.

Whatever. Unless Hollander decided to act on the tension between them, Ilya couldn't risk it any more than he already had. It didn't have to be a bad idea, but it would be, if it made Hollander run away.

With that sobering thought in mind, he quietly joined Hollander in the kitchen for breakfast.

The day was less eventful than the last.

They swam side by side, but they were both more subdued than normal. There were no families of whales or pods of dolphins in their paths to break the ice forming between them, and then, they had to take a longer route to avoid some ships, so by the time they reached a new reef they hadn't explored yet, the day was half over.

Ilya tried not to come on too strong, not to gravitate towards Hollander like he had allowed himself to do the past few days. It resulted in them drifting apart, finding different things to explore on their own, keeping each other in sight but doing their own thing. Ilya didn't like it as much. He had already grown used to having someone by his side to share all the little moments of exploration and discovery with. Now, he found himself getting rather bored.

They ended up back at the beach house earlier than usual.

As Hollander emerged from his bedroom, phone in hand, he was frowning. "Missed a call from Hayden."

"Hayden who?"

This seemed to confuse him even more. "…Hayden Pike." Like it was obvious.

Oh. Him. "You two are friends?"

Hollander looked confused. "I mean, yeah, he's on my team. Why?"

Ilya made a face. "Because he is terrible at hockey, and you, you are…" he trailed off.

Hollander stared at him expectantly.

"…nearly the best," he concluded.

"Nearly?" Hollander huffed a laugh. "Fuck you."

Ilya held his tongue. He had a comeback ready to go but he didn't say it. He was trying to back off, after all.

Hollander sighed. "I need to call him back. I might be a while, you can just… hang out, if you like."

"No, is okay. I should go. Sleep in my own bed tonight, eat something other than your boring dinners for third night in a row."

"Okay, sure. Will you… should I wait for you, tomorrow?"

Yes, please always wait for me. "Sure." Ilya shrugged. "See you tomorrow."

He soaked in the sight of relief on Hollander's face. Memorised it and tucked it away in a safe spot in his mind before turning to go. He could get used to the feeling of someone wanting him like this, even if he hadn't really done anything to earn it.

As Ilya stepped inside his cold, dark apartment, he felt a sense of dread wash over him.

Ever since he had met up with Hollander, he had been neglecting contact with his family. His phone had weighed heavily in his pocket on the car ride home, and he was half expecting it to ring at any moment now that he had turned do-not-disturb off.

It was ironic (he looked the word up after Shane used it), how lonely he felt, and yet, how much he dreaded receiving a phone-call.

He set the phone on the kitchen counter and decided to act like everything was normal. Maybe if he pretended it was, eventually, it would be.

What would the version of Ilya that Shane sees be doing right now? Finding a woman to sleep with, his brain helpfully supplied.

With a shrug, he picked up his phone again and called Svetlana.

"Ilya," she answered the phone.

Normally, her sultry voice alone was enough to get him excited. Now, he only felt annoyed it wasn't deeper, with a monotone Canadian accent.

"Hello Svetlana," he purred in Russian. "Where are you right now?"

He heard her giggle lightly through the phone. "Why, are you missing me? Want me to come over? I thought you found a new girl."

"A new girl? Who told you this?"

"It's in the news, Ilya. A new girl you brought home from Russia. Are you replacing me? Finding your Russian pussy somewhere else now?"

Ilya grinned, leaning against the counter. "I could never replace you. You know this."

"Mm…" she intoned doubtfully. "It does not matter. I am in Los Angeles right now. You will have to find someone else to do the job."

Ilya huffed. "Fine. Good luck having fun without me."

"Goodbye, Ilya." Her tone was firm, but he knew she was smiling.

"Bye, Svetlana."

He'd barely hung up before his phone was ringing again.

Alexei.

"Fuck," he swore in English, running a hand through his hair.

He let it ring three times before answering.

"Yes?"

"Where the fuck have you been?! We need money."

Day Five

The full-on obsession Ilya was developing over Hollander's freckles was becoming a problem. The way his face lit up when he answered the door was already enough to create butterflies in Ilya's stomach, but then he caught sight of the constellations on Hollander's cheeks, and for a moment, forgot how to breathe.

Then, Hollander's face fell back into something more neutral. "Rozanov," he said, his voice coming out steady and calm. His gaze dropped to the packages in Ilya's hands.

"These were on your doorstep," Ilya explained.

Maybe it had already been too long since his last hookup, because when Hollander reached out to take the packages from his hands, Ilya nearly dropped them all when their hands brushed, and electricity danced over his skin. What the fuck.

"Thanks," Hollander said slowly, and then turned around and walked inside, leaving him at the door.

Ilya stood on the doorstep for a moment, watching Hollander walk away. Today he was wearing an athletic shirt that clung to his body, stretching over the broadness of his back, and shorts that were maybe just a little too small for his thick thighs and cute ass.

He blinked, and tried to shake those thoughts from his mind.

He was supposed to be Good Ilya again today. He was going to have a nice, normal day with Hollander, his new friend, and banish all horny thoughts.

He would need to leave Hollander again tonight to go take care of this problem. He would find someone in a club to slake his need again. Preferably someone with brown eyes and freckles…

"What is this?" he asked as Hollander opened the packages on the table.

"I was thinking," he said, pulling what looked like two small bags out of the first box, "what you said about bringing snacks with us when we're out there? It was a good idea - " two small water-bottles were revealed next - "so I ordered us some equipment."

Ilya rounded the table next to Hollander and picked up one of the bags. "Are we supposed to wear these in the water?"

"Yeah, they're water-proof. Practical, right?" Hollander nodded to himself and began opening the second box. When he saw what was inside, his eyes lit up with excitement. "I didn't expect all of it to arrive on the same day."

Ilya inspected the bag closer. "You couldn't get it in a different colour?"

Hollander frowned at him. "Blue is classic."

Ilya wrinkled his nose. "Blue is Montreal Metros colour. Mine should be black or yellow for my team. Boston Raiders, in case you forgot."

Hollander snatched the bag out of his hands and dumped it back on the table. "Then get your own."

Ilya hesitated for a moment, before picking up the bag again. Good Ilya, he reminded himself. "Is fine. I can endure it if it means I get to bring snacks."

"Endure," Hollander repeated, raising an eyebrow at him. "New word for you?"

Ilya shrugged. "Is sports commentary word. I picked it up."

Hollander nodded and returned to his task.

Inwardly, Ilya felt kind of giddy at his observation, which was weird. He usually hated when anyone commented on his English. It was a stupid fucking language, of course it would take him some time to speak fluently. But Hollander didn't appear to be laughing at him, or patronising him. He had just… noticed.

A small box was held out in front of him as Hollander pulled it out of the package.

Ilya peered at it, the cover of the box showing a film strip bordering the image of a tropical island. "What is this?"

Hollander was trying to get him to take it. He pushed it closer, into Ilya's chest, until Ilya relented and accepted the suspicious package.

"It's an underwater camera," Hollander said, and gave Ilya a small half-smile as he pulled out a second one from the opened package. "One each."

Ilya stirred, his brain working a little harder than it should need to to register what Hollander had just said. "Oh," he said, and looked down at the box in his hands. Underwater cameras. To take photos of their time together. Wow.

"Obviously we can't show them to anyone," Hollander continued. "We'll need to keep them here, at the beach house where it's private, and I don't think we should risk printing any of the photos in case - "

"When did you order these?" Ilya didn't mean to interrupt.

Hollander blinked at him. "Uhh, like, three days ago?"

Ilya counted in his head. "After the whales?"

"Yeah." Hollander scratched the back of his neck, dropping his gaze. "After that."

Ilya felt a warmth blossom in his chest.

He watched Hollander use the blade of his pair of scissors to deftly open his box. He was still watching when Hollander absent-mindedly held out the pair of scissors after he was finished with them.

When Ilya took the scissors, their hands brushed again.

The touch was as electric as it had been earlier, but Ilya was ready for it this time, and pulled his hand away as if it was nothing.

Good Ilya.

As he tore his own box open with much less care than Hollander had taken, he thought he saw out of the corner of his eye Hollander's hand flexing by his side.

Ilya decided to strap the bag around his waist. Naturally, Hollander was concerned about his decision to wear it like that. "It'll slip off down your tail and hit me in the face," he'd complained.

Ilya had told him that it would only be a problem if Hollander couldn't keep up with him.

Hollander had huffed and mumbled something about him missing the point, while he fasted his own bag securely over his shoulder.

Ilya thought it looked far less cool that way, but he was quickly learning that Hollander's fashion sense was non-existent, which was strange. Considering the amount of modelling he'd done over the years with all of his fancy sponsorships, Hollander was still a bit of a clueless jock.

The water barely splashed as Hollander executed a perfect dive off the edge of the jetty, so fast that Ilya missed his chance to see anything.

As Hollander surfaced, his tail shimmering beneath the clear water, Ilya cannonballed in beside him with a loud "Whoop!", in perfect form to splash him in the face. He quickly surfaced as his tail appeared, cackling at the sight of a pissy Hollander glaring at him.

Ilya spat water out of his mouth and grunted. "Ah, come on Hollander, you can't handle a little bit of water?"

As he predicted, Hollander broke nearly immediately. "Fuck you," he said as he rolled his eyes and looked away, trying to hide a grin.

Mission accomplished, Ilya thought smugly. He drifted closer, until the fins on their tails were lightly touching, stretching out in front of them, pointing the way out to sea. "Hey, so now that we have these," he indicated to his bag, "maybe it's time we visit one of the islands? They are a little bit farther out than we've been, but we can make it in a few hours if we push ourselves, and reward ourselves with lunch when we get there."

Hollander was already nodding. He kept his eyes locked on the horizon, even as Ilya peered at him from beside, jumping on the rare opportunity of being this close to Hollander's face to silently count his freckles. He wanted to see if any new ones had appeared over the past few days.

He noticed instantly when Hollander's cheeks started to get a little bit red.

Wow, Ilya thought, his gaze drifting to the tip of Hollander's ear, which was also getting red.

Still, Hollander didn't look at him. Instead, he dropped his gaze from the horizon, his lashes lowering as he looked down at his tail.

Ilya continued to stare. His attention was drawn next to Hollander's mouth, watching, transfixed, as he pulled his lower lip in between his teeth.

For a moment, none of them moved.

Then, Hollander glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, and Ilya realised he'd gotten way too close.

He pulled back with a startled breath. "Cool. Let's go then." Bad Ilya, he told himself.

"Yeah," Hollander responded, sounding breathy in a way that made Ilya's stomach do a flip.

Ilya knew he was supposed to be good again, but he couldn't go back to the way things had been yesterday. It was more than just a crush. It was a craving, to be near Hollander again, to touch him and know he was real, that this was real and Ilya wasn't alone with this secret anymore.

The island was small, with only a few trees to offer shade, and as they neared it, Ilya gently tapped Hollander on his shoulder and pointed down at the coral reef that surrounded the island from below.

Hollander gave him a delighted smile, and dove down towards it, leaving Ilya to follow in his wake.

Ilya loved watching the way Hollander's muscles flexed and his tail flicked, propelling him down towards the sea floor. He surfaced, took a breath, and then went after him.

He was struck with a sense of déjà vu as he approached Hollander from above while the other man was completely distracted by the coral reef. Ilya followed his gaze to see what he was so fixated on. A ray of sunshine had made its way to the sea floor and was twinkling off a shell half-buried in the sand. It was pretty.

Ilya floated gently to his side.

They watched the shell for a few minutes, until it began to move; little pointy legs shuttling the shell along the sea floor and into an opening in the reef.

Ilya looked sideways at Hollander, wondering if he would be disappointed that the shell was occupied and therefore could not be picked up. But Hollander had a small smile on his face as he turned and met Ilya's questioning gaze. He shrugged, like he was saying oh well, and then twisted around, eyes darting in every direction to find something else for them to look at.

Ilya didn't know what to do with the cuteness he was just witness to; where to put it. His hands clenched at his sides.

For another hour, Ilya let Hollander take the lead as they explored the reef surrounding the island. They started to make use of their cameras, although Ilya wasn't sure how to work his properly and had to get Hollander to walk him through it. He didn't seem to mind having to teach Ilya again, going over each button slowly in order while Ilya watched closely by his side, their tails brushing together with ease and almost getting wrapped around each other.

Ilya found he liked exploring the area and taking photos with their new cameras almost as much as he enjoyed watching Hollander. His crush on the man was developing faster than he could keep up with it, and he was helpless to stop it.

His resolution to be good was crumbling with each freckled grin the man threw in his general direction. He was starting to think that maybe… maybe he could find a way to be with Hollander without scaring him away.

There were signs that Hollander felt the same way, but Ilya was 99% sure he hadn't been with another guy before. That could be more complicated, if it was a big deal to him.

But, this was supposed to be his week of freedom, where he didn't have to care about the outside world. Maybe, if Ilya did things the right way, Hollander could put all of that aside for a day, and just be.

He felt nervously hopeful.

When the sun had reached it's peak in the sky, they surfaced along the shore of the island. They sat in the shallows, right on the edge of the waterline where they could safely open their waterproof bags and eat the snacks they'd brought together.

"I don't like almonds," Ilya decided. "Do you want?"

Hollander tilted his head, a soft smile on his face. "You should probably eat them anyway."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because they're healthy and you're an adult."

Ilya scoffed. "Boo. Boring."

"Fine." Hollander held out a ziploc bag of raisins. "I'll swap you."

They ate in silence for a while. It was nice; the push and pull of the tide washing gently over them while their upper halves basked in the sun and the fresh air. Hollander snapped a picture of their tails stretching out beneath the clear water. Ilya ran his hand through his hair a few times, wondering how his curls looked right now.

He was nervous.

When he caught Hollander watching him fix his hair, he felt a blush rise to his cheeks and quickly lowered his hand to dig into the sand beside him. His heart was pattering in his chest so loud he wondered if Hollander could hear it.

Eventually he allowed the push and pull of the tide to drift him closer to Hollander's side, closing the small gap. "I, um, found this for you." He took the small shell out of his pouch and held it out to Hollander. "Since you like shells."

Hollander stared down at it. "Oh."

Panic set in immediately. "You do not like? Is okay, I can throw it back - "

"No!" Hollander caught his wrist.

Ilya froze. They stared at each other for a moment. His wrist flared with heat of Hollander's touch, his stomach did a flips as he realised how close they were to each other; how small the gap was between him and Hollander's mouth.

Then Hollander let go and gently picked up the shell from the palm of his hand. "I do like," he said, his voice soft, big brown eyes never leaving Ilya's. "Thankyou."

Ilya nodded. He slowly lowered his hand, resting it in the water just above Hollander's waist. He wanted to kiss him. He wondered if Hollander would let him.

They were gravitating towards each other, and Hollander wasn't pulling away, so he thought there was a good chance. And that was enough for him to make the split second decision to go for it.

But then Hollander crossed the gap to kiss him first.

Ilya made a small sound of surprise as Hollander's lips met his. Warmth rushed through him at the contact. He opened up for Hollander instantly, having daydreamed of doing this for the past several hours. He gently licked into Hollander's open mouth, biting and nipping at the perfect plushness of his bottom lip.

The man tasted like salt water and almonds with an undercurrent of something more musky, more Hollander, as he met Ilya's kisses with his own hunger. His nose was cold against Ilya's face. He clutched at the sides of Ilya's head and swept his fingers up into Ilya's curls, pulling at them and steering Ilya's face into each kiss with a determination that thrilled Ilya far too much.

He wanted more.

His hand came down on Hollander's waist, settling over the point where his skin turned to scales, and he tugged gently, encouraging Hollander to roll on top of him.

Hollander got the message, sliding his beautiful blue and silver tail over Ilya's and wrapping around it to anchor them together in the shallow water as he descended on Ilya from above. It was new and different, the two of them operating purely on instinct, whatever felt good in the moment.

Hollander was slippery and heavy on top of him, but he had his tongue in Ilya's mouth and his hands on Ilya's body, so Ilya used all of his strength to keep him right where he was. Eventually it was too much and Ilya had to break off the kiss.

"Hollander, fuck, I'm just - I'm going to lay back - is this okay?"

Hollander nodded, his dark lashes fluttering, his mouth wet and pink and irresistible.

As Ilya lay back he pulled Hollander down with him by a hand on the back of his neck, unwilling to be parted with his mouth for too long. Hollander went willingly.

They kissed again as Ilya settled back into the wet sand, and the water began to wash over them with each wave upon the shore. Their bodies rubbed together, skin against skin, scales upon scales, until Ilya started to feel something akin to building pleasure below.

Woah. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. He didn't even know it was possible in this form.

Hollander pulled back. "Holy shit," he murmured, and looked down at where their bodies were joined. Their bodies were rubbing together right over that spot where their genitals would be if they had any in this form.

They both stared down at their joined bodies, and although Ilya was fascinated by whatever sexy merman thing was going on, he got distracted very quickly by Shane's upper half; his belly that had the slightest hint of softness to it while also clearly packed with muscle; his pecs, large enough to be perfect handfuls for Ilya to grab. Ilya's gaze trailed further up to Hollander's face, and he took in the tension of the other man's face, his brows scrunched together. Fuck. Was Hollander about to freak out?

Ilya carefully ran a hand up his back. "What's wrong? Never been with a merman before?" He gave a careful, lopsided smile, to let Hollander know he was trying to be funny.

It worked. Hollander huffed a laugh. "No. And neither have you."

Ilya's smile broke into a grin. "Not yet," he agreed softly, and leaned up to nip at Hollander's chin. The other male leaned into it, so Ilya did it more, nipping along his jawline until he reached his earlobe. "Maybe… we should return to your beach house, yes?"

"Hm," Hollander responded eloquently. "Yes. Okay."

"Okay," Ilya repeated back to him.

Hollander rolled off of him, splashing back into the water. Ilya pushed himself up, dripping water and brushing the sand off his back.

He watched Hollander tighten the strap of his bag, before suddenly looking up, catching Ilya with his big brown eyes. "Ready?"

Ilya could only nod. He was pretty sure if he tried to speak right now, it would come out as a caveman grunt. Hollander did that to him.

They swam back to the beach house together. It was different now; the tension now acknowledged and alive between them. Still, Ilya worried the long journey back would give Hollander too much time to get in his head about it, to change his mind and go back into his shell.

When they reached the shore, Ilya was instantly hard watching Hollander walk ahead of him up the trail. His gaze trailed down the man's flexing, muscular back to the towel bunched low around his hips. It fell low enough to give Ilya a peek of the tops of his ass-cheeks in a manner so hypnotic he couldn't look away. He wondered if Hollander was doing that on purpose.

When Hollander opened the door and stepped inside, Ilya didn't stop, coming in directly behind him. He was impatient, running on adrenaline and an undercurrent of desire for this man that had been building for days.

He held himself back enough to let Hollander close the door behind them - he was still trying to be Good Ilya, after all - before turning around and slamming their mouths together.

Hollander groaned into his kiss. He let Ilya back him up against the door, pulling back only once - to loop the strap of his bag over his head and drop it to the floor - before frantically grabbing at Ilya's bare back to pull him closer again.

Ilya was surprised at the level of desperation with which Hollander pulled him closer. He kissed him like he was burning for him, like he had spent the past hour not in his head regretting everything like Ilya had worried he would, but instead, being just as impatient for Ilya as Ilya was for him; excited and eager and - fuck. Ilya was so turned on right now.

He wanted Hollander's grip on his back to turn sharp. He wanted him to dig his nails in and put marks on Ilya that he would feel for days, leaving the evidence for everyone to see.

Instead, Hollander dropped to his knees.

Ilya watched him go down, savouring the sight, feeling like it was important. He braced his forearms on the wall where Hollander had just been, as he settled on the floor below and reached for Ilya's towel.

It was easily undone; one tug and suddenly Ilya was fully naked with his hard cock in Hollander's face. Hollander took a moment to roll the towel up and gently set it to the side. Ilya watched him do it, fascinated.

He took himself in hand and ran his hand up and down his length once, letting a drop of precum bead at the tip. "Do you know what to do with this?"

"Yes," Hollander said softly, eyes locked on Ilya's movement. "I mean, I've had blowjobs before," he added, and he sounded so earnest Ilya almost laughed.

He bit down on his lip instead, and let go of his cock, reached down to cup Hollander's jaw and press his thumb against his lips.

Hollander opened his mouth, his breath coming out in short pants against Ilya's skin as Ilya inserted his thumb inside. Hollander's eyes fluttered closed, his brows turning upwards in the middle as he began to suck on it.

Ilya felt himself growing impossibly harder; his cock pulsing as he imagined this impossibly soft, wet mouth wrapped around it. The smooth, eager strokes of his tongue on the pad of Ilya's thumb went straight to his dick. Soon enough he couldn't stand it. He pulled his thumb out with a soft wet pop and took his cock in hand again, pointing it at Hollander's lips.

Hollander stared.

"You want?" Ilya asked. He sounded breathless and desperate.

Hollander nodded, and took over Ilya's hold. Ilya let him, pulling away so Hollander could control it himself.

He was soft and delicate at first. He gave little kitten licks to the underside, tilting his head up to get more underneath it, then returned to the head and took the smallest amount into his mouth, sucking before pulling off it again.

Ilya let out a sound of desperation he didn't have any control over. His hands closed into fists where they braced against the wall, and his body shuddered from the effort of holding back his hips. "Put your mouth on it, Hollander." He tried to make it sound like an order, but it came out more like a groan. Like he was begging.

Hollander took pity on him. He opened his mouth and took Ilya's cock into his mouth, inch by inch until Ilya hit the back of his throat. He hollowed his cheeks and sucked, flat tongue laving the underside as much as he could.

"Da, Hollander," Ilya praised. He dropped one arm by his side, flexing his hand, trying to resist the urge to take Hollander by the back of his head. He compromised by cupping the side of Hollander's face. "Like that. Fuck."

Hollander started moving, running his mouth up and down as much of Ilya's length as he could fit in his mouth. He was sloppy and untrained, but he was eager; the beach towel beneath his legs tenting with his own arousal; and that was what got Ilya so close so fast.

He hissed again and pulled Hollander back when he got too close. "Enough."

Hollander looked up, eyes darting between his.

Ilya pulled him up. "Good," he reassured him, running a thumb over that plush lower lip. "Too good. I don't want to come just yet."

Hollander gave him a shy, self-satisfied smile.

Ilya ran a hand down Hollander's body and hooked two fingers in his beach towel, and used it to pull him through the kitchen to the living room.

Hollander let himself be pulled.

Ilya stopped at the edge of the couch and yanked at Hollander's towel so it fell away.

He had seen all of Hollander over the past few days, of course, but there was something different about seeing him like this - hard for Ilya and not shy about it.

Ilya spun them around so he could push Hollander onto the couch. Hollander fell back against the cushions, but quickly pushed himself back up.

Ilya stopped him with a hand on his chest, pushing him back down again. "My turn," he insisted.

Hollander shook his head, sliding to the edge of the couch again and reaching for Ilya's cock. "Don't worry about me, I just - "

Ilya knocked his hand aside, and knelt down between his legs. "Hollander. I want to suck your cock. Are you not going to let me?" He watched with satisfaction as Hollander blushed.

"You don't have to," he said, ducking his head.

Ilya frowned. "I know I do not have to. But - and this pains to me to admit - you are very hot, Hollander. I want to taste you." He placed his hands on Hollander's knees, thumbs gently stroking the inside of his legs in what he hoped was a soothing motion.

Whatever convincing Hollander had needed, Ilya's words seemed to fulfil. The man nodded and spread his legs. He didn't meet Ilya's eyes as he leant back on the couch, but it was clear by the hardness jutting from between his legs, leaking precum, that he wanted this.

Ilya wasted no time taking Hollander into his mouth. Unlike his archrival, Ilya did have experience around a dick before. But the secret, rare hookups he'd shared with other men and some trans folk could only last a couple hours at most. This was the first time he felt like he had some level of safety and time - two days left, to be exact.

Fuck. When he put it like that, it didn't seem very long at all. There was so much he wanted to do.

"Fuck - Rozanov!" The instant Ilya swallowed him down, Hollander was arching his back off the couch, holding back breathless moans that set Ilya on fire as he sucked and bobbed with ease.

Ilya's cock strained hard between his legs, still covered in Hollander's spit and his own precum. He reached up Hollander's body to grab handfuls of his pecs - feeling the coiled strength in the muscles and the slight give of softness with each squeeze. With each writhe and twitch of Hollander's body, satisfaction raced through Ilya like a bolt of pleasure. The man was so responsive, everything Ilya had been fantasising about.

He wondered if he could come like this, just from sucking Hollander off. If he did, he realised he wouldn't be embarrassed by it. Maybe this was just how things were, between two mermen. Better.

Fingers softly delved into his curls at the back of his head. Hollander's voice was frantic. "Rozanov, I can't stop - I'm gonna - "

Ilya groaned and bobbed his head on his cock faster, hollowing out his cheeks. He squeezed Hollander's pec enthusiastically to say, give it to me.

"Fuck fuck fuckfuckfuck - !" Hollander groaned and came into Ilya's mouth.

A second later, Ilya pulled away and wiped his mouth, before looking up to see Hollander's face.

He was flustered - mouth hanging open, pupils dilated, chest rising and falling - and he was finally meeting Ilya's gaze.

Ilya grinned at him.

"I'm sorry," Hollander panted, "I couldn't stop - I - "

Ilya shook his head, still grinning as he waved off Hollander's unnecessary apology. "Is okay, Hollander. I am irresistible, I understand."

That drew a breathless laugh from the man, and he let his head fall back against the couch as he rolled his eyes at Ilya's antics. The sound sent a warm wave of relief through Ilya - that things were still okay between them.

When Ilya pushed himself off his knees to stand, Hollander immediately drew silent. Ilya looked down at him, noticing the way he was eyeing Ilya's hardness jutting out in front of him, his eyes turning darker with each passing second.

How do you feel? Ilya wanted to ask. He was curious if doing this with another merman had the same effect. He hadn't come yet, so his skin was still buzzing with the desire he'd been neglecting for days; a desire he desperately wanted Hollander to fulfil. It was curiosity more than anything.

But suddenly Hollander was on him - taking Ilya by the hips and flipping him over onto the couch so Hollander could straddle him. With Hollander on top of him, their positioning was reminiscent of their first kiss on the beach, and Ilya's cock grew even harder at the thought. It was thick and iron hard and pulsing precum between them.

Ilya barely had time to react before Hollander took his cock in hand, still slick from Hollander's mouth earlier, and started jerking him off. His head hit the back of the couch as he groaned at the sudden electric friction sending pulses of heat into the arousal building in his core.

Hollander followed the movement with a newfound determination in his eyes, pressing their foreheads together. It was like a targeted attack on Ilya; crowding his vision with Hollander's pretty face, his fucking freckles -

"Hng - " Ilya whined - fucking whined - "Hollander, blyat - " his hips thrust up of their own accord.

He watched helplessly as Hollander licked his lips, then leant in for another kiss.

As soon their lips touched, he came. They kissed like they were drunk, faces mashing together messily while Ilya fell apart. Thick ropes of his come painted his own stomach as Hollander handled him expertly through his orgasm. For as unskilled as Hollander had been with his mouth, he seemed to know how to use his hands.

Afterwards, when his dick was spent, and finally Hollander slowed his hand, the sensation hit him like a train, tenfold - the rush, the satisfaction he usually felt after fucking.

His veins felt like they were filled with liquid gold.

Ilya knew then, that he wouldn't be able to give this up. Because it absolutely was different with Hollander. His brain felt sluggish and distant as he tried to think of something to convince the other man that they had to keep doing this.

Hooking up was no big deal, right? They were both hot and horny, they shared the same secret… it should be fine.

He didn't want to let Hollander off his lap yet. His hands came around his waist to hold him there, as they panted against each other.

"How do you feel?" he murmured, tracing soft circles into Hollander's back.

Hollander's lips moved against the crook of Ilya's neck as he responded softly, "Good."

"You sound surprised."

A muffled sound against his neck. "I am, a little."

Ilya pulled him back to see his face, searching his eyes. "Why?"

Hollander looked down. "It felt different." His eyes flicked up to meet Ilya's briefly, before lowering again. His face was still flushed red.

Ilya wanted to devour him. Instead, he nodded. "For me too. Maybe because we are same."

It was almost so subtle that he missed it, but he felt Hollander stiffen. "Oh, yeah. That makes sense."

He wanted to say something more, but the words wouldn't come out of him. Instead, he pulled Hollander in for another kiss.

"Mm," the man murmured against his lips as he pressed his body against Ilya's. "We should clean up, get dinner started."

And it was so simple, so natural, but the words flooded Ilya with a deep-seated desire he didn't truly understand. It didn't matter a second later, because somehow, his cock was already getting hard again. And as Hollander shifted in closer on top of him, he realised he wasn't the only one.

Their cocks brushed together, and Ilya reached down between them. "Okay," he breathed, wrapping his hand around their cocks together. Hollander full-body shuddered, eyes locked downward between their legs. "We can clean up," Ilya murmured, and gave an experimental pump, "…after."

They couldn't seem to keep their hands off each other. It was a strange discovery, that around each other, their refractory periods seemed much shorter than normal.

After their second round, frotting and coming in each other's laps, they quickly assembled a meal and devoured it like starving animals. It was a simple domestic task they had done several nights in a row, but now the seal was broken, and Ilya could outright look at Hollander and touch him in all the ways he had been craving, his dick was hard throughout the entire affair.

It was almost like they were under a full moon with how feral Ilya felt. When they finished their plates at the same time, it only took one veiled look from Hollander for Ilya to stand so suddenly his chair fell to the floor in his rush to get to the other man. Hollander met him with equal desire.

Ilya couldn't resist turning Hollander around and bending him over the table. The irresistible male went willingly, thrusting his hips back towards Ilya in a way that had him feeling light-headed. Ilya wasn't going to try anal tonight, not without warning, but Hollander clearly wanted it, with the desperate whine he let out as he peered up at Ilya from where his face was pressed into the table.

"Jesus, Hollander," Ilya hissed, running a palm over the dip of his lower back. He spit into his palm, took his cock in hand, and thrust it between the crease of the thick thighs that had been teasing him for days.

Hollander came for the third time that night with Ilya's hand on his dick and Ilya's come running down his thighs.

When Hollander finally insisted they needed to clean up, Ilya happily followed him right into the shower and pressed him against the shower wall before Hollander even had a chance to turn the water on. He devoured Hollander's needy whimpers with his mouth and thrust their hips together to create that delicious friction as they grew hard again.

"What the fuck," Hollander groaned, his head hitting the tiles behind him.

Ilya ran his hands along Hollander's perfect body. "Do you want me to stop?"

Hollander shook his head frantically. "No. Don't stop, please."

"Shower," Ilya reminded him as he laved his neck with kisses and licks, loving the taste of him. "You wanted to have a shower."

"Shower can wait - Rozanov, please."

Ilya got down on his knees.

After the shower, Hollander took him into the bedroom, insisting this was the last time. Ilya sensed he was right - despite their unflagging desire, their bodies were tiring out. He felt a little nervous being invited into Hollander's room, but when the man laid back on the bed and pulled Ilya on top of him, he forget everything except for freckles and the fresh scent of bodywash and the mesmeric sounds of his archrival whimpering beneath him.

They came together, making a mess all over Hollander's freshly cleaned skin which Ilya cleaned using his towel before flopping down beside him.

Hollander's breathing steadied.

Ilya had the vaguest thought that he should go sleep on the couch, before sleep took him.

It wasn't until the next morning that he realised he hadn't thought about his family in over 24 hours. His second thought, as he registered the body warmth at his back, a thick, heavy arm draped over his side, and his own cock rapidly hardening beneath the covers, was that Hollander was decidedly not out of his system yet.

Honestly I wasn’t expecting to get to smut so soon but these two are out of control!! I hope we are all having a nice time at the cottage beach cabin because pretty soon these guys are gonna have to return to the real world and I am both sad for them but also keen to throw some delicious angst into the mix ✨

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