greatbigpartyhat



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    “You guys are gross.” He whined as he slumped onto the counter. “I don’t want to see it.” 

    “That is not what your wife told me.” Ilya said, his words were playful but with a tone too serious for the early hour. “She told me that you want to watch Shane and I make love while you sit there, like pathetic cuck, and get off on it.” 

    Shane choked into his coffee, spilling it onto the counter. He glared at his husband who went in search of paper towels to clean up the mess. Hayden was speechless. 

    “What Ilya means to say-” 

    “No I mean it when I say pathetic cuck, but is okay.” Cuck was overpronounced with a ruthless smirk that toed the line of cruelty. “We all have our kinks. There is no shame here. She thinks it's super hot and I agree. Shane and I are very sexy. Shane especially when he is being taken apart by my cock. Which you also want to see. I hope seeing it will not make you feel bad about yourself. Average is fine. You understand average with your hockey stats, yes?” 

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    09 Mar 2026

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    “Let me warm you," said Ilya.

    “What?”

    “I go here”—Ilya pushed Shane backward on his rolly-chair to give him space to settle between his legs—“and warm you with my mouth. Then you can fuck my face when call is done.”

    Shane really was no better than Ilya when it came to risky, try-not-to-get-caught sex, even if he wanted to act like he was.

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    07 Mar 2026

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    As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, Ilya understood why Shane had been so insistent on him coming over.

    He had been struck by the change. The one no one could understand. That science couldn’t explain and was still rarely spoken about out loud.

    Or: Ilya helps Shane through an unexpected predicament.

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    07 Mar 2026

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    Four days before Shane expects Ilya to be back on the ice in a random home game against Tennessee, the news finally leaks.

    Shane feels like he should be hiding under a table, sheltering in place. It’s not even that bad. Just a short, clinical article on ESPN. Sources close to the Boston Raiders have confirmed that Conn Smythe winner Ilya Rozanov’s mysterious SOIR is due to a suicide attempt in August. The Team Captain was in Moscow at the time, but returned to Boston as soon as he was able to recuperate and seek treatment.

    As far as terroristic invasions of privacy go, it’s compassionate.

    But Shane knows what it’s like to constantly be under a microscope, and he wants, more than anything, for Rozanov to not be dissected and examined like a particularly fascinating insect. He can’t do anything about it.

    Or: The summer after he wins the Cup for Boston, Ilya almost dies. Shane tries to cope.

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    06 Mar 2026

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    “You’re going to Boston.”

    Long after Farah hangs up, the words keep echoing in Shane’s head. If he had thought his thoughts had been chaotic this morning, when his biggest problem had been his rival potentially fucking him when he came to Montreal in two weeks, that’s nothing compared to the code-red panic that started the instant he found out he was being traded to Rozanov’s team.

    Rozanov, who was supposed to be his great career rival. Rozanov, who he’s hooked up with twice now. Rozanov, who had been planning on coming to Shane’s apartment in Montreal to fuck him the next time they saw each other. God, how on Earth is Shane going to walk into his locker room in Boston in a few days time?

    The impending awkwardness of dealing with Rozanov is almost enough to eclipse the hurt he’s trying to ignore. The knowledge that Montreal values him so little that they’re willing to dispose of him only six months into his rookie season. Almost, but not quite.

    -

    Or, Shane gets traded to Boston AU.

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    06 Mar 2026