Work Text:
Shane had no idea how he found himself in this situation.
Ilya Rozanov was next to him in the shower stroking his cock.
It seemed like something of a wet dream, a reverie, a fantasy that Shane didn't have the brain cells to cook up in the first place. But it was happening. That or it was a really convincing, insanity induced coma.
Five minutes ago when Ilya had walked into the communal shower, there was absolutely no indication that the interaction would head in this direction at all. Shane had been in lots of communal shower situations - maybe even thousands! And never once had this occurred.
It wasn't often it was just him and one other man, though. A man who he was unfortunately very interested in, because he was just… well. He was an asshole. Which Shane categorically didn't like, actually, because it was rude, but there was just… something.
Objectively he was attractive. In general, Shane assumed. Not that he really thought that way about men, but if he were to, Ilya would be considered good looking. A lot of hockey players were. Because they worked out a lot! So they had nice bodies because of that. Factual.
And Ilya was from Russia, so people might think that his accent was hot. But that's only because it was different from what they were used to hearing.
He was talented too - a skilled, tactical player. Shane could admit to admiring that one fact about him. He was amazing on the ice, and when they'd had the opportunity to play against one another, Shane had enjoyed trying to beat him. It felt like someone on his level, not like a lot of those easy wins he had under his belt so far.
Ilya was also confident, but somewhat reserved, off the ice. When Shane had introduced himself to him for the first time Ilya had barely even talked. At the time Shane wondered if that was the language barrier. But when Ilya ribbed him as he'd headed back inside, Shane had realised he knew how to communicate - he had just selected not to, initially.
Actually, now that he was reflecting on it, Ilya should be unattractive. It would probably do Shane a whole deal of good to put that thought into his mind, and out into the universe. Ilya Rozanov was ugly. He had ugly curly hair, and sort of stupid looking face, Shane decided. He couldn't quite get into the details on that, but he was sure it was true.
And he was sweaty! He'd been sweaty that time they'd ended up in the hotel gym together, droplets of it running down the side of his face and over his cheekbone. His neck had been wet too, in that sort of glazed way, his necklace dangling in the middle of his chest where he had a light smattering of hair between his pecs.
He was probably sweaty now, too. Which was unattractive. Traditionally.
Shane himself had definitely worked up a sweat - in a very different way to when a game got him hot. The lights and attention from the people filming their advertisement, the way they just kept making them run drill after drill so they could film different angles.
It was tedious, but… interesting. Interesting to see Rozanov in a different environment. And apparently it had been his idea to have Shane on set, but that remained to be seen. Because why would Ilya even think of that? It was strange.
So when Ilya had joined him in the shower, because of course he would, because he was sweaty - Shane averted his eyes. Because that was normal. You just stared straight ahead at the shower nozzle, or at the far wall when you had your back turned to it, and you most definitely didn't look at anybody, he'd learned that.
Except… Shane could feel eyes on him. He was probably just imagining it, because why would Ilya be looking at him naked?
Or maybe it was one of those situations where he was going to acknowledge Shane, because it was more awkward not to, since they were the only ones in the room.
That was fine. Shane could handle that - a simple nod. That's all they'd need to get them through this whole naked together thing. Which wasn't awkward, because they had careers in doing this sort of thing. Well, careers that involved this as an element. A small element.
Shane turned to the side and looked at Ilya, making eye contact for all of a split second before Ilya looked away. Which… well. Okay. Maybe he didn't want to acknowledge one another after all. That was also fine.
But now that he was looking over that way, with Ilya's entire body on display, Shane's eyes immediately fluttered to the swell of his biceps. The guy was fucking jacked. He knew that objectively, because he is an athlete, and also because of that one morning in the gym, but he'd never specifically seen his physique in all its glory.
It was admirable, that was all. Really impressive. Shane wondered what his routine was as he forced himself to look away. But then he looked back, because were his shoulders really that big? And his abs, they were - he had to be doing a lot more than just their normal workouts for this. That or Shane needed to step up his game.
Shane looked away again, then back a third time because as he'd been turning he'd caught a glimpse of Ilya's ass out of the corner of his eye. As he looked back Ilya turned, almost exposing it more to him as Shane catalogued it.
It wasn't weird to admit he had an amazing ass. Everyone liked ass, right? Because everyone had one. So it wasn't gay or anything to admire someone's ass as being like, perfectly round and toned and strong but also possibly squeezable.
Shane forced himself to look away properly and grab some soap, trying to reroute himself back to the task at hand. Get clean, and get the fuck out of there.
Then he felt Ilya's eyes back on him. What was he playing at? Was he trying to like, psych him out or something? It's not even like they were playing a game against one another soon or anything, and he couldn't expect Shane to just remember when he was being weird in the shower for months to come.
It became too much to bear, though, so Shane looked back at Ilya, trying to remain steady and determined in the contact so he looked confident. Just to let Ilya know he couldn't psyche him out like that. Maybe it was some weird Russian technique.
Then Ilya pointedly looked down at Shane's cock, back up at his eyes, and raised his eyebrows at him.
Which - what?
Shane looked down on instinct, seeing his cock had taken an interest in what was going on, apparently. Not a full interest. An interest where someone might call it half-mast. Definitely not a soft interest.
As soon as Shane realised what that meant he felt a swell of anxiety swish through his torso, dripping from his chest to his stomach as his blood ran cold. Ilya was going to beat him up. Or call him gay - which he wasn't - or tell people, or tell the media, or something even worse that Shane couldn't even think of.
"Fuck off," Shane muttered sharply, turning his body away enough to try and hide his problem. Why did dicks have to be like that? So obvious and just… out. Doing whatever they wanted. Shane didn't want to have a semi right now.
There was probably a good excuse, right? He felt he was a little bit too old for the whole 'random boner' thing, but then again maybe he wasn't. He'd have to Google what age that stopped happening. Or he could say he was thinking about his girlfriend… then he'd have to make up a whole thing of who she was, what she did, what she looked like. Hot, probably. So attractive he'd just get hard randomly.
He should just leave. He hadn't quite finished his shower routine, but he should get out of there. He could finish up at home, actually, and it wasn't a big deal. He should just turn off the water and grab his towel and…
Ilya was looking at him again.
His expression wasn't taunting, either. Or mean. It was… open? Hard for Shane to describe.
But then his arm was moving. In a sort of repetitive way, that made Shane look down at what his hand was doing.
Ilya was stroking his cock and looking at Shane.
He wasn't fully hard, not yet, but he was filling out. He was uncut, which made sense, and Shane could see the shift of the skin as he pulled his hand up and down. A shiver ran through Shane's body even though the water was warm on his skin, tickling the back of his neck and the tips of his ears.
Shane managed to drag his eyes back up to Ilya's face, only to see him nod at him. An indication - maybe an invitation. He wanted Shane to stroke himself as well.
And Shane wanted. He so terribly wanted to wrap his hand around his cock, indulge in this far off situation that shouldn't be happening, and stroke himself to the sight of Ilya stroking himself because it was far more sexy than it needed to be and Shane was somehow now rock hard without so much as a touch.
It was just… this didn't happen. This wasn't normal for him - or maybe anyone? Maybe it was normal for Ilya Rozanov - he was probably used to communal shower orgies with his team, looking like that.
His eyes drifted back down Ilya's body, to where his cock was almost properly hard now, standing at attention for him and looking just as impressive as the rest of his body. It was a good one - not that Shane had much experience in looking at dicks - but it was thick, and big, but sort of fit his frame well and matched his proportions. Objectively.
Then his eyes went back up to Ilya's face, making eye contact, a sort of non-physical 'pinch me' moment to check that this was really actually happening. That Ilya wasn't just accidentally stroking his cock at him, and asking him to join.
Ilya didn't change anything. His face was still open - his jaw set, but Shane was pretty sure that was just how he looked. It was still an opportunity.
Shane had to take it.
He tentatively moved his hand towards his own cock and watched Ilya's face carefully, searching for any minor sign that he would react weird if Shane was to make contact. He didn't, though, and after only a few long, drawn out seconds, Shane wrapped his fingers around the base of his cock.
His heart was beating out of his chest. Imagine if he actually had a heart attack. Would his boner go down before the paramedics got there? The blood would redirect, right?
Shane caught Ilya nod encouragingly, a short tip of his chin, but it was enough for Shane to stroke his hand up his length and then back down, sort of lightly and experimentally like he'd not done it almost every night for god knows how many years.
Ilya's movements were confident. He was stroking his dick at him, almost. Like he was in a porn video, and he knew he had an audience. Shane didn't really know how to convey that same energy. He felt like the way he stroked his dick was for under the covers, in his room at night with his eyes closed.
Maybe he wasn't good at this… this whole thing. Whatever this was. Maybe he should just stop.
Shane's mouth went dry as he tried to think of some excuse to stop it all, trying to figure out how he could blame it on an accident when he noticed Ilya starting to move.
Towards him, actually.
Oh god. Ilya was moving towards him.
"You are stressing," Ilya commented, coming out from under the stream of his own shower, crossing the distance between them. Shane wondered if he might walk right into him, through him, but he came to a stop just in front of him instead.
If Shane wanted to he could reach out and touch him. Physically, that is. He probably shouldn't. This was probably a sort of no-touching mutual jerking off scenario, right? What the fuck were the rules here?
"No I'm not," Shane said contrarily, even though he was.
"You are hard," Ilya pointed out. Shane felt his cheeks flush, because the way Ilya said it sounded like an accusation.
"So are you," Shane defended, looking down at his cock pointedly and valiantly not lingering, dragging his eyes back up to Ilya's face again.
"Yes, this is true," Ilya agreed, cocking his head to the side as he slowed his strokes down. "Have you done this before?"
Shane bristled, looking around in disbelief.
"No? Obviously not,"
"You have not jerked off?" Ilya asked in that same dry tone of his.
"Of course I've- jerked off," Shane responded, somewhat exasperated. "I've not done this, the shower room, the…" Shane explained, trailing off when he gestured to Ilya after gesturing around the room with his free hand.
"Ah," Ilya answered, nodding slowly. "Not jerked off with someone,"
"No. Yes," Shane answered, getting himself muddled up. God he was an idiot. How was Ilya speaking a second language and somehow had a better grasp on it than Shane did in that moment?
"Is easy," Ilya noted, and Shane felt his blue eyes travelling over his body. He felt his neck flush, the idea that Ilya was looking him over was so strange. What was he thinking? Did Ilya like guys? Guys like Shane? Not that he cared. It wouldn't matter if he did. "I can show you?"
Shane swallowed thickly, because that sounded like asking for permission. For what he was unsure, but the only part of his brain that seemed to be responding to him was whisper shouting say yes say yes over and over to him.
"Yes," Shane said, doing as he was told by his subconscious. It probably knew what was for the best. Wasn't intuition a thing?
"Okay," Ilya responded. His hand reached between them, breaking the careful mental wall Shane had constructed between their bodies and touched his hip. It felt like sparks, though Shane was sure that was just because he was heightened and not expecting it even though his eyes were tracking Ilya's hand like laser beams.
The backs of Ilya's fingers drifted inwards, closer to the centre of Shane's body as they brushed his lower stomach, somewhere between his bellybutton and his crotch. His touch was feather light - not what Shane expected, from how rough he played on the ice.
His hand then trailed lower. The tips of them brushed in the patch of neatly trimmed pubic hair Shane maintained above his cock, pressing in a bit heavier here which made Shane's toes curl. Ilya's hand was just near his dick. His dick that he was still holding in his hand, gripped at the base because what the hell else was he meant to do? Release it?
Maybe he should. God, he wished he'd watched more porn. Maybe it would have told him what he was meant to do in this situation. He made a mental note to look up communal shower porn to see if there was a step by step in case this happened another time.
"Can I touch your cock, Hollander?" Ilya asked him, bringing Shane's eyes back up to his face.
Could Ilya touch his cock? It was such a bad idea. For lots and lots of reasons, maybe a thesis worth of reasons, but for some stupid reason Shane just nodded.
Ilya smiled at him, his lips tucking into his cheeks as his fingers lightly tapped Shane's where they were still wrapped. Shane took that to mean he should release the grip, so moved his hand away and placed it against his own thigh as Ilya's took over.
They wrapped around him like he'd done it a million times before, his fingers firm but not too firm. Soft but not too soft. Applying good pressure, and as they pulled upwards Shane had to cough to hide the noise he wanted to make.
Ilya Rozanov was touching his cock. His impending heart attack was literally imminent.
Then he stroked down. Then back up, creating the same rhythm he'd used on himself but instead this was on Shane.
Was he allowed to enjoy this? Surely, right? Shane's eyes darted between Ilya's face and his hand on his own cock, trying to work out the answer before his body gave him away and moaned without his permission.
"You can touch my cock too. If you want to," Ilya invited like the notion was akin to brunch on the weekend.
Shane stared at Ilya's dick, feeling his mouth water. He wanted to. He wanted to touch, and maybe even see if it fit in his mouth. He was sure it would, but it would feel heavy on his tongue, probably, because it was so thick.
Before he could think better of it Shane's hand shot out, bumping Ilya's wet skin maybe a bit harder than he'd intended to, trying to achieve that same motion Ilya had done but not really getting there. He didn't know how to lightly drag his fingers to make Ilya shiver, so instead he just went straight for the kill and wrapped his fingers around the base of Ilya's dick.
It was thicker than his own, that much obvious from the way he had to have his hand just slightly more open than he would on himself. It was muscle memory stroking his own dick, so to have a different one in his hand was… weird. It was probably meant to be weird.
Shane set his shoulders and stroked his hand up, then back down again, getting shocked when he felt Ilya's cock twitch in his grip, pulsing up towards his belly. Oh my god, he made Ilya's cock twitch.
"Like that. Again," Ilya encouraged, so Shane followed and ran his hand up, then back down again, starting up slow like he would on himself. The hair around Ilya's cock was less kept than his own - still obviously cared for, but it tickled Shane's knuckles more than he was used to.
Ilya stepped closer, closing distance between them and Shane couldn't help from letting out a small noise when the tip of his cock bumped Ilya's belly. Maybe on purpose, since it was still in Ilya's hand, or maybe accidental if Shane wanted to believe the best in people.
"Is okay?" Ilya asked him, stooping his head just enough that his mouth was near Shane's ear. He shivered, feeling the breath of his words on his skin and almost wanting to bare his neck. Would Ilya kiss him there? Or was that another rule? Were there actually any rules here?
"Yes," Shane whispered back instead, drawing in a sharp intake of breath when Ilya's free hand came up to cup the side of his throat. With just one slide of his thumb Ilya could drag is hand around to the front of his throat and…
That was not a thought Shane was allowed to have. He reprimanded himself, biting his tongue and trying to force any thoughts of Ilya gripping his neck like that as Ilya started to move his head even closer.
Ilya's lips pressed against his neck, and okay, they were allowed kissing. Kissing on skin. Good to know. Shane added it to his mental note before leaning his head to the side to allow more skin exposure, closing his eyes because the combination of a neck kiss and Ilya's hand on his cock was to die for.
His mouth dragged across the wet skin, slow and steady as it explored and never failed to send even more shivers out across his spine. He was sure he'd get shivered out, but then Ilya found a spot just behind his ear that absolutely made his cock twitch wildly in his grip.
This was torture, actually. Why was his dick giving him away like that?
Ilya seemed to put two and two together, doubling down in that same spot and grazing his teeth over the skin. Shane let out a small noise - possibly just a breath with a bit of vocals behind it - but it was hard to stop himself because it just felt so fucking amazing.
His lips trailed higher, up to the lobe of Shane's ear and sucking that in between his lips. Shane had never really thought about someone ever sucking on his ear, but now that he was here, it was actually far more erotic than it needed to be.
If he came from Ilya sucking on his ear like that it was going to be literally so embarrassing.
Thankfully Ilya moved back down, back to that sweet spot and sucked harder, his teeth pressing more insistently. Shane's hand free hand shot out against Ilya's chest, realising that his strokes on his cock were wavering because of how lost in his own pleasure he was, so he picked those up again and squeezed his pec with the other hand.
If he was there he may as well feel them up a little, he thought to himself.
Ilya's mouth opened wider and Shane felt his tongue against the skin, a wet lick that earned another moan before Shane realised what might happen. He'd made out with a girl before, maybe even twice, in high school, and he knew how to make a hickey.
He quickly pushed at Ilya, bringing his shoulder up to get his mouth away before he made one. Hopefully he hadn't quite got there yet.
Ilya's face pulled back from where it had been tucked away, looking at Shane questioningly and he hoped he hadn't just ruined any of this because he was actually really fucking hard now and if he had to walk out of the shower he'd have to head straight into a bathroom cubicle and finish off the job.
"Don't - no marks," Shane mumbled to explain himself, feeling a little bit like a loser for not just indulging but he just - how would he explain that? People would see that he got a hickey after being in the shower with Ilya Rozanov. It was too obvious.
"Okay," Ilya answered, shrugging as he thumbed under Shane's jaw.
Shane nodded curtly, going back to his job of stroking Ilya's cock when he felt his face loom closer. In front of his own, this time, like maybe he was going to kiss him.
Shane wanted to kiss Ilya so terribly. Perhaps he'd cast a spell, or something, because Shane didn't feel like himself at all and he was trying to hard to push all the creeping thoughts aside, because this was the hottest thing that had ever happened to him and he wanted to see it through without having a panic attack.
But Ilya was just staying there though. Not leaning in, not kissing him, but so close to his mouth that surely that was the next step.
Shane couldn't help himself from pitching in closer, surging forward and pressing their lips together before he thought any better of it.
Immediately Ilya's hand moved to the back of his head, meeting him in the kiss instantly and taking it way more intensely than Shane thought he would. He felt the part of his lips, the way they fit with his own, the breath coming out of his nose like he didn't want to pull away.
Shane didn't want to either. He wanted more, so when he felt Ilya's tongue against them just as wet as it had felt against the skin of his neck, he parted his own lips to let it in.
Their tongues brushed together and Shane moaned. Just straight out moaned, there was no other way to describe it, not a cough or a whimper or any other noise. He moaned and it was like a switch for Ilya pushing even closer to him, sending Shane stumbling back against the tile but Ilya was holding him upright, supporting him, then pinning him to it.
"Fuck," Shane whispered in a garbled way into Ilya's mouth, his breath catching when Ilya's body pressed against his own. He was hot, a direct juxtaposition to the cold tile against his back, and he moved with such quick precision that before Shane knew it they'd both unhanded each other's cocks and Ilya was instead grinding them together.
"Oh my god," Shane added, pulling away from the kiss and thunking his head back against the tile, but that didn't seem to give Ilya any moment for pause. His hands wandered, tucking down Shane's side before coaxing his thigh up and over Ilya's hip, spreading him wider to really allow for their cocks to align and more skin to press against skin.
Shane was going to explode. He was going on pure instinct, now, his hands quickly coming up to grab the back of Ilya's hair as he kissed on his neck again, this time giving attention to the side that he had ignored previously. His other hand stayed on his chest, gripping the muscle firmly and trying to catch his breath because the delicious slide of their cocks was making him lose it.
There was something so primal about it. Just grinding on each other. Seeking pleasure through sheer determination and not much finesse. Ilya's hand skated under his thigh now that it was exposed, holding it in support but also exploring. It slid higher, up to his ass, and oh god Ilya was grabbing his ass.
Shane's thoughts immediately turned to how it was just so close to his hole, and like, Ilya was thrusting against him and he could easily just change the angle of his dick and thrust inside of Shane and even though that would probably hurt it would also probably feel amazing eventually and…
He was getting carried away. Ilya was not going to fuck him in this shower. He didn't even want to be fucked, because that was… wasn't what he was into, actually.
Shane almost spiralled but his cock slipped in such an amazing way against Ilya's that it distracted him from the wandering hand and the wandering thoughts.
"Rozanov, this is-" Shane began, not entirely sure where he was going with it but his mouth worked faster than his brain. He was getting closer, desperately so, and though he was trying so hard to hold out for longer so Ilya didn't think he just normally came in all of a few seconds, it was proving an impossible battle.
"Good, yes?" Ilya asked. Shane let out a breathless laugh, because yeah, it was good. Better than good, actually, maybe even great if he was really putting himself out there.
"Yes, good," Shane agreed, gasping just as Ilya reattached their lips.
He kissed like he was hungry, desperate for him. Every other kiss Shane had had before this was nothing like it. They were tentative, maybe. Sweet. Sedate? Not red hot and burning and wet and raw.
Shane's hand squeezed tighter in the back of Ilya's hair, probably pulling it but he couldn't care less right now. He needed to hang on to something.
"I'm-" Shane muttered into his mouth, but Ilya quickly nodded, seeming to understand what Shane was trying to convey because his hand dropped between them and started stroking both their cocks at the same time. He slipped a finger between them but the rest of his hand had them surrounded, deliciously hot and firm. Shane felt like he could feel Ilya's throbbing, or maybe that was just his own.
"Yes, come, show me," Ilya encouraged, keeping their foreheads together but their lips apart like he needed to breath himself. The hand that wasn't jerking them off was squeezing Shane's ass tight, his fingers spread wide but it felt actually felt amazing in a way Shane would never had anticipated. It felt like he needed that, needed to hold on like Shane was with Ilya's hair.
Shane whined and tightened his leg around Ilya, the permission from him apparently all he needed to feel his orgasm come sprinting towards him, catching him by surprise even though he knew he was closer to it than he'd ever been.
"Oh fuck," Shane whined as he started to come, his mouth falling open as he panted and made some unintelligible noises against Ilya's mouth, painting their stomachs between them and possibly all over Ilya's hand. He was unsure on that part, unable to see if he had, since his eyes were rolled back in his head at the intensity of it.
Ilya kept stroking him through it, and when the ringing stopped in Shane's ears, he weakly pawed at Ilya's shoulder to get him to stop stroking because he was getting overstimulated from the pace and the pressure when he'd just come.
When Ilya benevolently let go of his dick Shane sighed in relief, clearing his throat and casting his gaze downwards to the… mess between them. Fuck, he'd come a lot. The shower stream was off of them right now so it wasn't washed away, and he saw that he'd spilled all over his own stomach, some of Ilya's, as well as over his hand.
The hand Ilya was now stroking himself with. Using Shane's come as lube. Holy shit.
Shane barely had time to think before he saw Ilya start to come, the hot spurt of it hitting directly onto his stomach too, like Ilya was aiming for him. Maybe he was.
He felt perverted for liking it. Liking that Ilya was coming on him like this, pressing the tip of his cock into the soft part of his stomach, his come dripping down into his pubic hair, making a mess that Shane would happily clean up with his mouth if he could bend that way.
Ilya's breath was ragged against his lips, shaky as he drew it in and came down to the same reality Shane was in. One where they'd both just come and that meant… what, exactly? What did any of this mean?
Shane was surprised when Ilya pressed a kiss to his lips, so much so that he forgot to respond and by the time he made his brain work Ilya had already half pulled back, so he ended up chasing him just a little and catching the tail end of it.
Then Ilya was helping his leg back down to the ground, which… yeah. Shane probably needed to do that. Stand on his own two feet or something. Surprisingly gentle hands were on his waist, pulling him forward, back under the stream of water that quickly washed away all evidence of what had just happened. It was over, for sure.
"That was fun," Ilya commented, breaking the silence that Shane had no idea how to.
It was. Fun, that was. That was a good way to define it. Fun. Definitely didn't mean anything.
"Yeah," Shane answered with a nervous laugh, looking at Ilya but barely able to stand looking him in the eye now they'd just come on one another.
"I um- I actually-" Shane began, his brain blanking because now he needed to leave. This was too much.
Shane stepped back from Ilya, giving him a smile like everything was fine and trying to find the words. Why weren't any words coming into his mouth? Ilya was looking at him expectantly, but nothing came out, so instead he just smiled again and turned quickly to find his towel and get the fuck out of there.
By the time he was dressed, and his heart rate was down - fractionally - he'd come up with a plan: He and Ilya could just forget that ever happened. A boys will be boys, or when in Rome, or any of those other stupid sayings.
Then Ilya came out in a towel. Shane shoved his foot into his shoe, then dropped his other one, because how the fuck did he look like that?
"So uh… look, we can forget that happened in there, okay?" Shane proposed, fiddling with his laces, and now the tongue of them was sitting funny and Ilya was looking at him but he refused to look back.
"Is what you want?" Ilya asked.
Shane tried to have resolve.
"Yeah, for sure," Shane assured him.
Then Ilya started laughing, and came over to him, and somehow Shane walked out of the locker room with plans for Ilya to come to his hotel room later that evening.
It was probably just to chat, right?