Tin Roof Rusted
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"Oh my God, what?" Shane demands, nervous now.
Ilya swears in Russian again. "Is, um. The condom."
Fuck. "What about the condom?"
"On porvalysa," he says, like he can't fucking bring himself to say it in a language that Shane can understand. Then he finally looks at Shane, mouth covered like he's a cowering dog afraid to show Shane his teeth. "It broke."Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander are twenty, on top of the world, and a little irresponsible about it. This is the crash.
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- Part 1 of Tin Roof Rusted
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Rozanov says, “I am new Captain. Is, um…in English, I think you say—”
“Hazing,” Shane mutters. “They’re hazing you?”
“Yes.” Rozanov pulls back. Shrugs his shoulders again. “Go back in your room, Shane Hollander.”
“And if I do,” Shane mutters, sliding his eyes sideways again. Siderov and Vasiliev look proud of themselves, basking in a kind of butter-wouldn’t-melt ease that only bullies ever truly know. Somewhere, their mothers are calling them princes. “Will that be, like, it? Or will they do something else?”
“Ah.” Rozanov rubs the side of his nose, sniffs. “Something else, probably. Or they will tell whole team you turned me down. No worries. Pretty omega turns me down, not end of the world. Guys on team will laugh. Also not end of the world.”
“That’s not…” Shane screws up his mouth, looks down at his shoes. He’s still massively keyed up, still just a little hard, and Rozanov is still very handsome. “That’s not…what’s happening.”Regina, Saskatchewan, 2008. Shane Hollander is newly an omega and nobody is happy about it. Ilya Rozanov makes it interesting.
Series
- Part 2 of Tin Roof Rusted