#beta request

Olympics

“He came like this,” Rozanov said, breathless. “Down your throat. Maybe I will too.”

Shane sucked firmly, barely holding back a moan, but just seconds later Rozanov pulled Shane off his cock. Shane made a face, leaning in instinctively, missing the feeling of Rozanov in his mouth so much.

“How did he make you come?” Rozanov asked.

It took Shane a minute to process the question. He took a breath. “His hand.”

Rozanov’s eyes sharpened. “He touched you?”

Shane nodded.

“Did he want to fuck you?” Rozanov asked. His tone was even, but dangerous.

“I - I don’t know,” Shane said. His head was spinning, Rozanov was still so close, his hand still holding Shane’s head still, his cock right there.

“He didn’t - I don’t know.”

“Did you want him to fuck you?”

Shane should find the way Rozanov was looking at him infuriating. The challenge in Rozanov’s voice, the implication that if Shane had wanted it from another man, Rozanov would be what… pissed? Jealous? That should be absolutely galling, but instead it made Shane squirm, arousal fizzing through him.

“No,” he admitted.

And Rozanov’s slow smirk shouldn’t turn him on even more, but of course it did. Rozanov’s eyes were gleaming, triumphant. “Do you want me to fuck you?” he asked, eyes boring into Shane’s.

Shane closed his eyes, nodded, leaning his head into Rozanov’s palm. The mix of embarrassment and arousal was so intense, he couldn’t look at him.

Rozanov’s thumb traced over his cheekbone. “What was that?”

Shane didn’t open his eyes, he just took a breath. “Yes.”

-----

Figure Skating

(their first meeting, they are thirteen and in their first year at Junior internationals)

"Uh. Hi," Shane said. "I'm - I'm Shane. Hollander." He held out his hand, which felt … really stupid.

Rozanov nodded. "Yes." He leaned forward to shake his hand.

Shane waited a second, but nothing else followed. He shouldn’t have interrupted his practice, probably.

"Uh. I'm - I just wanted to say,” he started, and he could see Rozanov’s shoulders draw upward, tensing. “I like the exit. On the combo spin,” Shane blurted.

Rozanov seemed to relax a fraction. “Yes?”

“Yeah,” Shane said, feeling a little relieved. “You’re a great skater.”

There was a long, very awkward pause.

"Sorry," Shane said reflexively.

Rozanov's lips curved into a slight smirk. "No, is true. I am great skater." Rozanov's accent was thick, the words a little stilted, and wow. He was really arrogant.

"What?" Rozanov asked, and now he seemed amused.

"Nothing," Shane said, irritation rising along with disappointment. He'd really thought Rozanov might get it. But he wasn't like Shane at all.

"Good luck, I guess," he said, as he pushed away from the boards.