Toooldforthis1990



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    "Shane Hollander," he said. "We are lying in the very comfortable bed you bought for me to fuck you in, in the very weird condo you bought, also for me to fuck you in."

    "It's an investment," Shane grumbled.

    "And I have just fucked you, I think, very well," Rozanov continued. "At least I do not remember any complaints."

    He swung his body easily across the bed, pinning Shane in place.

    "No complaints," Shane huffed, almost a laugh. "No complaints here."

    "So why the fuck," Rozanov said into the soft skin beneath Shane's ear, "are you asking me about other men?"

    ------

    Or: Shane thinks what he needs to do is fuck another man. Just to see. Just to know. Just to test if it's only Rozanov who can make him feel this way.

    But he has no idea how to go about fucking a stranger without it immediately becoming a story in the tabloids.

    And he can think of only one person to ask for advice. So, in a post-coital haze, he makes the obvious move: he asks Ilya Rozanov, his extremely casual fuckbuddy, for advice on how to pick up other men.

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    05 Jul 2026

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    “Well, I guess you got what you wanted from me already,” Hollander continued. “Whatever. Fuck you.”

    “Wait, no, Hollander.” Ilya turned, throwing an arm into Hollander’s path. “That’s not—”

    “No, it’s fine. Stupid of me to expect anything else.” Hollander shook his head, gaze downcast, the barest hint of angry pink tinging his freckled cheeks. “Thanks for making it good, at least.”

    It. His first time.

    Ilya was the worst sort of asshole.

    ---

    In Sochi, Shane isn’t shy about calling out Ilya for ghosting after getting what he wanted. Once they’re safely away from Russia, Ilya forces himself to be honest with Shane about what that first time meant.

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    05 Jul 2026

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    Shane sees his ex at a cafe and texts what he thinks it’s a dud number to look busy, little does he know it belongs to Ilya. Shane uses the thread to use as a reminder for stuff he has to do. Ilya enjoys reading what this mysterious man does until he gets a text at 3am.

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    05 Jul 2026

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    Shane's breath catches on a sob, and he muffles the sound with his hand. Everything feels like too much. He’s naked, and he can feel entirely too much on his body, inside his body, and he hates how it's starting to feel gross. His head is pounding, and he can't even focus on placating his mind when his lungs are also screaming in his throat for breath.

    Ilya hears, and his hands reach out to hold Shane, tension lying in every part of his body. “Shane—”

    “Don't touch me,” Shane snaps, more desperation than yelling as he rips his arm out of Ilyas's grasp. His tears have nowhere to go now, and they finally spill over, hot and humiliating, down his cheeks.

    Ilya freezes in place, hand hovering mid-air. A myriad of emotions flicker across his face: confusion, hurt, fear. Ilya takes an unconscious step back like someone shoved him. His body curls in on itself, trying to make himself appear smaller.

    He looks... terrified. Like, Shane just called him a monster, and he believes it.

    OR: inspired by the fight in the long game when ilya had told shane he could have sex with other men because he did not believe in cheating.

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    01 Jul 2026

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    “I, uh, came to ask for a ride."

    Luca glanced sideways at Boodram, who was frozen with one arm in his jacket. It truly would have been hilarious, the way they all watched this scene unfold like a car crash, if it didn’t also feel like one.

    They shared a confused glance, turning back when Rozanov’s incredulous “A ride?” rang through the locker room.

    “Yeah, I, uh, figured I could use one since I just…quit the Metros,” Hollander said slowly, heaving an exhausted sigh afterwards.

    In which Shane Hollander overhears his teammates talking about him before a game and ends up in the Centaurs' locker room, asking Ilya Rozanov for a ride.

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    22 Jun 2026