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Svetlana was lounging about across her couch analyzing the offensive play that just occurred between Carter Vaughn and Scott Hunter when she got a text from Ilya about coming out to a party one of Shane Hollander's friends was throwing.
Ilya was blowing up her phone, spouting nonsense about how she was specifically requested and how it was in Boston, so there's really no excuse not to show up. His dramatics make her want to roll her eyes into the back of her skull, but she refrains.
«Is it an actual party?» She texted back. He knows by now most of what he gets up to isn't quite her speed. It's all too underwhelming.
«yes like old times I promise," he responds, following it up with several fire and flexing emojis.
She stares at the message, contemplating whether Ilya is telling the truth or not.
Even if it's another quiet get-together disguised as a party, it doesn't really matter. It's not like she's busy. Also, it's extremely hard to have a lame party in Boston.
Without a second thought, she hearts the message and switches apps to make a note in her calendar.
She goes back to the game, but she's not really paying attention anymore. Her mind starts to wander; she's expecting a sad excuse for a good time. Not that any time with Ilya was boring. It's just been less exciting than before.
Lately most of Ilya's "parties" consisted of smaller get-togethers that end around nightfall rather than early morning, or, if she's lucky, a celebration at a bar after a tough game.
Those tended to be more fun. At least she got to talk hockey and party with the Centaurs. At least they still knew how to have a good time. Just like how her Illusha used to before the grand shift.
When Ilya would pretend to complain about how much Shane Hollander hated staying out for too long. How he'd rather only have a beer or two rather than go head-to-head in shots. How boring he was.
She can pinpoint the moment the switch happened.
Svetlana was grinding on who knows who and sipping on who knows what when a shout interrupted her dancing.
"Sveta!"
Her movements slowed slightly, and she tossed her head back to give her attention to Ilya, whose hand currently lays heavy on Shane Hollander's shoulder.
He was still swaying to the booming music in the club as he leaned towards her, dragging Shane Hollander with him. "We must go home now, he is so boring and wants to not get too drunk before his flight tomorrow." He dramatically sighed. Making sure to say "boring" in perfect English.
He locks eyes with her for a moment and then rolls his eyes a second before Shane Hollander does. As if mimicking his movements before he performed them.
He had turned his head in time to catch the end of Shane's eye roll, and a small chuckle broke from his lips as he shook his head fondly—too fondly, as usual, with them.
"No fair." She gave a small dramatic pout before turning back to face the man in front of her. Her sharp gaze darts back to Ilya for a second. "I'll let you go, I guess, but you owe me a drink next time." She turns back and throws her words over her shoulder, "Maybe two!"
"Of course I am a gentleman." He throws a quick wave at her. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
She let out a huff of a laugh as he and Shane Hollander made off towards their respective teams to start spewing some nonsense excuse to leave early.
It's extremely normal for the Metros captain to leave so early. In fact, based off of the whoops and backslaps from his teammates when he had first gotten to the bar, him coming out is a rare occurrence.
But Ilya? She knows the Raiders would have to drag Ilya out of the club kicking and screaming unless he's already home with someone he decided to fuck.
She'd bet money that Ilya is telling his teammates right now that he's off to get the lay of his life. They'd believe him too.
It was absurd how comfortable the two of them had looked in each other's proximity, the fondness in Ilya's eyes when he had looked back at Shane Hollander, his opponent, his rival.
It's foreign to her.
For years she had thought she had known every aspect of her Ilusha, the boy that grew up with her.
She'd seen him take his first drag of a cigarette. She'd seen him sneak off with Sasha and heard all about it afterwards. She'd seen him choke on his first shot of vodka. She'd seen him after his mother's passing. She'd seen him throw all he had into hockey. She's seen him grow into a leader. She'd seen him broken at his father's funeral. She's seen his unwavering care for his niece. She'd seen him get better. She'd seen him get worse.
Mad, sad, happy, jealous, flirty, stupid, clingy, avoidant, arrogant, tense, excited, horny.
She's seen it all.
But she had never seen him in love, not like this.
The man in front of her spins her around, snapping her attention back to dancing.
As long as he's happy, it's none of her concern.
It's not like he'll be leaving the club at 11pm every time.
Svetlana wishes she could tell her younger self that he would in fact be leaving the club at 11pm. And sometimes he won't even be out at all.
Little by little she bore witness to his definition of "party" morphing from sweaty nightlife to chill in-house get-togethers.
God, what a horror that had been.
But Ilya had sworn up and down tonight was a real party, and to his credit, he was right.
This was an actual party. A genuine loud music, bright lights, and shots party.
The place was comfortably cramped with aggressive outfits and attention-grabbing makeup. Bodies rocking to their own rhythm as the blaring lyrics sang of being young and stupid. She could feel the bass in her bones. The feeling was only growing stronger as she made her way through the crowd and farther towards the eye of the storm.
She didn't make it far before a manicured hand made its way around her bicep. It curled with a hesitant curiosity, as if unsure if the contact was too much. Her eyes dragged up the length of the arm. Taking in the sight before her.
A gorgeous woman glowing under the fluorescent lights. Her lips were painted with expensive lipstick that complemented her skin. Her dress hugged close in some areas and flowed freely in others. And her eyes, greyish blue, were staring back at her.
"Hi, Svetlana, right?" A voice recognizable worldwide reaches her ears.
Svetlana smiles and gives a nod in recognition, "Rose Landry."
"I'm glad to see you made it! I was beginning to think this might be too lame for you." The thumb on her arm idly moved back and forth as she joked.
"Not lame yet," Svetlana pursed her lips and made a show of surveying the party. "Might be soon if I don't find a drink."
Rose's grin grew. Svetlana could see her perfect teeth reflecting the colored lights surrounding them. She wonders if she had braces as a kid. She could picture it: teenage Rose Landry spouting a rack of metal with blue bands on each bracket.
"Ah, then I guess we have to find you something."
Her ring-adorned hand slid down her arm and found refuge between her fingers. The gold of her rings pressed firm against Svetlana's knuckle while they slipped through the crowd as best they could. They were only stopped a few times here and there for congratulations or to take a picture.
When they finally made it to the bar, Rose Landry gently pulled away. "Give me a sec, it'll be quick."
Her smile was barely contained as she popped behind the bar and asked the bartender to pull out two small glasses while she grabbed a full bottle from a lower shelf.
"Don't look, just drink," she demanded.
A glass was set in front of Svetlana. She couldn't help but blink up at her in bewilderment. Rose laughed. "I know that sounds really creepy, but trust me on this."
"I trust you." Svetlana smirked and gave a quick wink before taking a sip of her drink.
The nostalgia hit her before the bitterness did. The burn that has slid down her throat more times than she can count. It was pure. It was Russian. It was home.
"Is it good?" Rose returned to Svetlana's side. "I had it imported, so if it's fake, you have to let me know."
"No, it's not fake. It's perfect, just like your smile." She raised her glass and tipped it towards her. "Drink with me, Rose Landry?"
"I'll drink when you stop using my whole name like a stalker."
"Stalker?"
"Yes! Like the paparazzi, 'Rose Landry, look here!' 'Rose Landry, why'd you roll your eyes during the interview with The View?' 'Rose Landry, what are your thoughts on the political and economical state of the world?' " She mocked.
Svetlana scoffed, "I am nothing like that. If anything, you are the stalker." She grabs hold of the Russian vodka and shakes it in Rose's face, "Only a stalker would know about this."
"No, I knew about that because I asked Ilya what kind you'd like, and this," She steals the bottle from Svetlana's grasp and pours some more into both of their glasses. "Is what he'd said."
A wave of appreciation passes through Svetlana.
"Did you find out everyone's drink of choice, or am I just special?"
A flush bloomed across Rose's face, it was light, barely even there. But Svetlana could see it, and she wanted to see that blush darken and spread down her throat and onto her chest. She wanted to know if it would spread to beneath her silver dress. Contrasting the cool color that sat tight on her skin.
X-Squad's finest tried to cough up some lame excuse but ended up waving her hand in dismissal as if shooing Svetlana's question away.
"Let's just drink, yeah?"
"Let's see how you handle real vodka, Rose." Her tongue curled around the 'R,' rolling it longer than necessary.
They slam down shots together and alternate between the dance floor and the bar. Whirlwinds of neon danced on their skin as their bodies flowed together. Rose's hands found Svetlana's waist minutes, maybe hours ago, and they haven't left since.
Her grip was ever wandering. She could feel the drag of thumbs across her hip bone and the thrum of fingers tapping to the rhythm of the music. Her own hand swayed freely beside her as the other crept up Rose's shoulder before resting behind her neck. She pulled her in close, close enough to touch her lips to Rose's ear. "I'm getting a little tired, but I don't know my way out." She pulls back and drags her gaze up and down Rose's body. "Show me out?"
The Boston air hits them immediately. The cold slowly starts to seep in as they wait for the lift, sobering them up a little.
Taking the break as an opportunity to poke some fun, Svetlana bumps shoulders with Rose. "I didn't know you could hold your liquor so well."
Rose bumps back, "Guess you don't know much about me."
"I know you're a pretty girl who's taking me home." Svetlana says with a sly, calculated smile, a smile she's used a million times before.
Rose's eyebrows shoot up. "Oh, so now I'm going back to your place?"
Their car pulls up.
"Of course," Svetlana agrees as she opens the door. She looks over her shoulder, and her half-lidded eyes lock with Rose's. "I need to show you how much I appreciate that drink you gave me."
The confidence radiating off of her was alluring, like a siren in the sea beckoning Rose to just sail a little closer until she hits the rocks. Walk a little farther until she gets in the car. And get in the car she did.
The ride back was buzzing with tension. They were a seat apart, but that didn't stop Rose from touching Svetlana. There wasn't a moment her hand wasn't on her thigh. Continuously rising until the ride ended and her fingers stopped short of her thong. Warm digits pressed into her skin under the fabric of her dress, and Svetlana wishes the car ride was longer so she could feel those fingers in her pussy.
She didn't plan for opening the door to be such a challenge.
Rose's hands move teasingly from her waist to where her dress ends high up on her thigh. She's pressed close, her chest flushed to her back and her chin resting on Svetlana's shoulder. Her breathing is slow and warm on her skin, and it makes the hairs on her neck stand up.
"So where are you showing me your appreciation?" Rose teases as she drags her touch up the curve of her torso.
Svetlana wants to tell her to start right here, on her doorstep, since she's so impatient. She wants to tell Rose to drop to her knees and open her mouth if she wants it so bad. If she wasn't Rose Landry, she wouldn't have considered it, but a primal part of her wants to see how willing Rose is. She wants to see how far she'll go.
"Hopefully the bed, if you can be patient for a minute," Svetlana says instead, punctuating her words with a brief kiss to Rose's jawline.
To Rose's credit, she did let Svetlana lead her all the way to her bedroom with minimal complaint.
But as soon as the sight of the dark silk-covered bed came into view, Rose's composure snapped and she surged forward. Her lips connect with the column of Svetlana's neck, and her hands creep up the back of her dress until they find a zipper.
Svetlana slid her hand through Rose's hair, her slim fingers curling around light auburn hair.
She felt on fire. Rose's mouth was hot and hungry. She was dragging each kiss across Svetlana's skin like she would die if her lips weren't on her. Every so often her teeth scraped against Svetlana's pulse point, pulling out a soft, encouraging moan.
Svetlana could feel the stain that Rose's lipstick was leaving on her. She could picture how Rose's face looked now. Smudged, expensive, color-matched lipstick smeared beyond her lips.
Normally she wouldn't care to take away the moment of pleasure just to get a glance at her hookup's face. Normally she knew she'd end up seeing the pleasure of whoever she was with later, and that was enough for her. Normally she could remain aloof with an air of composure that played up her, for lack of a better word, playboy persona.
But she's not normal about Rose Landry, and she didn't want to imagine much longer.
Svetlana gently tugged Rose off of her and brought her other hand up to grab her chin.
Rose looked like she had just gotten fucked. Her pupils were blown wide, her hair had broken free from its perfect shape and was now laid out about without rhyme or reason, and her mouth was parted. And just as she imagined, her lipstick was smeared across her face.
She swiped her thumb over the rose gold color, testing to see if it would wipe away. It didn't. The color stayed matte against her pale skin.
Svetlana clicked her tongue and shook her head. "Aw, look at you," she pouted. "Your pretty makeup is all ruined now."
Her thumb sits between the gap of Rose's parted lips. A moment passes, a moment for Rose to pull away and keep a sense of dignity.
With zero hesitation, Rose opens her mouth wider and pushes out her tongue slightly, just enough to prop up the underside of her thumb, and she closes around it.
She sucks in gently as if testing the waters. Slightly nervous, Svetlana might not like it. Unaware of the fuel she is adding to the flame of arousal pooling in Svetlana's stomach. Svetlana pushes in further before pulling back a few times. Fucking in and out of her mouth.
"Help me clean up your mess."
Rose flutters her eyes shut and moans around her thumb. She lets her spit pool on her tongue and swirls it around the digit in her mouth. Svetlana pulls out slowly and admires her slick and glistening thumb.
"Good girl." She praises. She brushes over the smudge again. Color disappearing but leaving a shine of spit in its wake.
Rose swallowed hard, and her eyes widened at her words. She eagerly leans back in for a kiss only to end up groaning when Svetlana's grip tightens and holds her face a breath away from her own.
"Take off your dress and get on the bed." Svetlana gives her a quick kiss, sliding in her tongue briefly, leaving Rose chasing after the connection.
"Jesus." Rose exhales as she unzips her dress and drops it. It pools at her ankles like a silver ripple of water. She unclips her bra as well before moving to lie on the bed.
"Wow, eager."
"I just would rather not waste time."
"You think I do not know how to take off a bra?"
"No, of course not. I just want you to touch me as soon as possible."
Svetlana smiles to herself. No matter how badly she wants to just categorize this night as a spur-of-the-moment hookup, she just can't. She's too enamored by this stunning woman lying naked in her bed.
Her own dress joins Rose's on the floor.
She nudges Rose up the bed until her head hits the satin pillows that adorn her headboard.
Her hand keeps her pinned there for a moment as she dives down to lick into her mouth. She sucks in Rose's bottom lip and bites down. A breathless moan falls from soft lips and into Svetlana's.
Svetlana palms one of her breasts and brushes lightly over her nipple. She can feel the full-body shiver that crossed over Rose's body beneath her. She can taste the whine let out as she rolls her nipple between her fingers.
Her lips kiss down Rose's neck and licks at her nipple before attaching around the bud. Her hand comes up and threads her fingers through Svetlana's curls to hold her closer.
Greedy.
"Mhm, no," Svetlana takes her hand off and moves it above her head. "You were too handsy all night. Now you have to wait before you touch."
Rose makes a confused noise while her eyebrows scrunch up with disapproval.
"No way, that's not fair."
"Never said it was."
Never in her life would Svetlana have expected to see global star Rose Landry turn and hide her face in her pillows as she pouts because Svetlana told her not to touch. And yet here she is witnessing it happen right under her.
She tilts her chin back to face her, dropping a slow kiss. A promising kiss.
"If you listen, maybe I'll give you permission. Are you a good listener, Rose Landry?"
The condescension bleeds from her words and seeps right into Rose's throbbing pussy.
Rose nods begrudgingly. Trying to appear annoyed and failing, Svetlana can feel how soaked through her thong has become.
"Use your words, Beautiful."
"Yes."
"Yes, what?" She licks at her nipple again, distracting her from her other hand that's traveling down to trace the outline of her underwear.
"Yes, I'm a good listener."
Svetlana leans up to plant kisses on the underside of her jaw. Licking up the stretch of skin before landing at her earlobe and tugging on it, "Prove it."
She slides her fingers under the cloth and sinks her middle finger in her slick pussy. Rose lobs her head back and moans. Svetlana pumps her finger in and out easily. "Wow, you are so wet, all from what? Kissing?" She slides a second finger in and curls it. Looking for the bundle of nerves that will make her see stars.
"Fuck, of course I am," Rose pants out, her hands pawing at the pillows behind her. She says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. As if it would be absurd not to soak through her panties from just kissing Svetlana.
Rose squirms, fighting between chasing Svetlana's touch or running from it.
She looks beautiful like this. At the mercy of Svetlana's hand. Her mahogany hair sprawled across the pillows, framing her pretty pouty face. Each strand was laid as if perfectly placed, curling towards the top of where her head lies like a fiery halo.
Her fingers brush against her G-spot, and Rose arches off of the bed and keens, "Svet—Svetlana, please."
Svetlana hums and peppers kisses along the inside of Rose's thigh. She kisses her thighs and her lower stomach and then nips at her pelvic bone. Rose gasps at the sting her teeth leave. Svetlana wants to stay here forever, in the sliver of time when teasing turns from pleasure to torture. The moment when she can see Rose contemplate begging again. The way her eyebrows draw high and her eyes screw shut like she's holding herself back.
She could stay in this moment eternally. But then she'd never see how Rose Landry would look after coming undone in her bed.
Svetlana licks a broad strip across her folds. Her fingers are curling in time with her tongue as she laps around her clit. A symphony of wet noises and whines fills the room as she eats her out.
Legs find their way to Svetlana's shoulders and hook around them. Holding her head close to the wet heat in-between her thighs. Rose rocks against her face, riding her, using her, chasing the pleasure.
Rose begs and pleads for more as she whines above her. Withering and clutching at the sheets, too overwhelmed with feeling good. But her empty pleas fall onto deaf ears as Svetlana kept licking and fucking her fingers up into her.
"I'm close. I'm so close just keep going, please."
Svetlana wraps her lips around her clit and sucks.
The legs around her pull so tight she feels lightheaded. She can feel Rose's entire body draw tight. She glances up to catch sight of the beauty that befalls before her. For a moment she looked frozen in time. Head thrown back, mouth agape. Her back arched so pretty, so perfect. She looked like a painting.
A second later the invisible string pulling her taut snapped, and she went limp. Her chest heaving, trying to suck in all of the air in the room.
"Fuck, I think you killed me," Rose pants. Her legs fall from where they were perched on Svetlana's shoulders; they bounce on the plush of the mattress. "You killed me, and I am dead, and I am in the afterlife now."
"Yes, this is the afterlife. Boston, Massachusetts."
Rose giggled, and Svetlana can feel her own laughter bubbling inside her chest. She feels euphoric, and she hasn't even touched herself.
The giggle-fit slows, and a light silence hovers between them. She half expects Rose to crack another joke, but the intensity in Rose's gaze clears any thought of that from her mind.
If looks could devour, Svetlana would be swallowed whole before Rose got her hands on her.
She holds Rose's stare and watches as her teeth hug her bottom lip, mulling over her words before seeming to throw caution to the wind, "Come here."
Svetlana's eyebrows shoot to her hairline. For a moment she considers toying with her more. Maybe pretending that they need to head back out for the night. Or playfully back up off of the bed and slip her dress back on.
She wouldn't, though. She's too turned on, and she needs to feel Rose in her, or she might go mad.
So she crawls up to meet Rose at the head of her bed. Her slender arms slide beside her head, bracketing her in. She leans in slowly, and their lips connect. Her amber curls fall over Rose. She brushes the strands from their face, but they fall back into place due to gravity.
Rose pushes up into a seated position and grabs the back of Svelana's neck. She deepens the kiss, sliding her tongue past plush lips and licking into her mouth. Her thigh slides up in-between her legs, and she grabs onto Svetlana's hips to pull her down to grind on her thigh.
Svetlana moans at the direct contact to her pussy.
"Take it off." Rose breathes out from under her, sounding more desperate than demanding.
Still rocking against her thigh, Svetlana reaches back to remove her bra and discards it somewhere on the floor. As soon as her chest was free, Rose took it upon herself to palm both of her boobs. Her hold was firm but gentle, like she can't help but just treat her body with nothing less than adoration.
A finger brushes against her nipple, and Svetlana whines into Rose's mouth. Her underwear was embarrassingly wet. She can feel her slick rubbing onto Rose's thigh through the fabric.
It was humiliating how turned on she was from so little. She felt like a teenager again. High on puberty and drunk on hormones, dry-humping while sloppily making out.
Rose replaces one of her hands with her mouth. She sucks on the pliant skin, littering the expanse of her chest with an array of hickeys.
"Fuck, I've been wanting this so bad." Rose groans against her sternum. A deep red bruise begins blossoming against her lips. "You drive me crazy." She punctuates her desire by pressing her thumb to her clit. Holding her thumb back just a little so Svetlana has to keep rutting against her leg to keep the pressure.
It's all so much and not enough. Rose rolling her nipple between her fingers, Rose sucking and licking across her chest and neck, Rose pressing her thigh up and firm against her pussy.
She might cum from this.
The realization hits like a flash-bang, but it quickly fogs up and dissipates within her mind. She's too busy chasing her release to fully take in how desperate she looks.
Her pace speeds up, and her moans grow higher pitched with every roll of her hips. She grabs onto Rose's shoulders and digs her nails in. Her mind too far gone to consider not leaving marks on the widely adored actress below her.
Rose gasps against her neck, "Yeah, that's it, baby, keep going."
The thumb against her clit pressed closer and rubbed in small and quick circles. The hand against her breast moved to grab her hair and pulled. And the mouth against her shoulder bit down.
The world around her rang as Svetlana's vision went white.
Her thighs were shaking and her breaths were heavy when she came back into her body. She felt lighter. She felt sore.
She collapses beside Rose, "Fuck." She laughed breathlessly.
A buzz sounds from the floor, and another one follows quickly after. The continuous buzzing went on for an annoyingly long stretch of time. As hard as they tried to ignore it, they couldn't. But Svetlana turned and pressed her face into the crook of Rose's neck to try and block out the noise anyway.
For a moment the room went quiet, and Svetlana let out a sigh of relief against Rose's heartbeat.
It went off again.
Svetlana pushed herself up with a groan. She flung over the bed to the floor and grabbed whichever phone found her hand first.
"It's yours," she said as she placed the phone gently next to Rose's beautiful resting face. "Is Shane Hollander, probably his 100th time calling."
Rose shot up, "Shit, he never calls this much."
Svetlana giggles and reaches back for her own phone that only has one message.
«if she's with you tell her to pick up the phone before Shane has an aneurysm.»
She thumbs up the message as Rose finally answers the phone.
"Hey Shane, what's up—"
"Rose, where the hell are you? There are so many people who came just to talk to you and now they've all decided to ask me where to find you."
"Dude, you have my location."
"Yeah, and that's also why I'm calling because why the hell did you leave your own party? Whose house are you at?"
Svetlana snickers to herself as she starts to drag her nails up and down Rose's leg teasingly.
"Non ya."
"Noya—?"
"Nun ya business."
There was an audible silence from the other end.
"Okay. "Anyway, we're headed out now, so have fun with whoever you're with," he continued.
Rose massages Svetlana's hairline, toying with her baby hairs. Mapping out how they flow across her temple. Svetlana leaned into her touch, giving in to the caring caresses of Rose's soft hands.
"I will! Also let Miles know he's in charge. He'll get everything figured out."
"Yeah, alright, bye."
"Thank you!"
She turned off her phone and discarded it off to the side. Huffing out a sigh, she shifted so she could be facing Svetlana better. "God, he's so nosy. Sorry about that."
"It's fine." Svetlana leans in for a kiss. She wasn't really listening, she was too focused on getting her mouth back on Roses as soon as she could.
And Rose looks more than happy to close the gap again.