Chapter Text
Ilya knew this was coming. The itch to touch and be with someone. The empire he was building wasn't good enough to cover that. In fact, it wasn’t doing anything for him. Ilya was forced to learn about the business of his father since he was a kid. He remembered being twelve and instead of playing with his neighbours who were the same age as him, he was learning about finances and how to be a Rozanov in the vast world of the legacy his father was leaving to his brother and him.
He wasn’t going to be a bitch and say he didn’t like his lifestyle; this provided for him privileges and wealth. Things he knew most people didn’t have.But those perks were only the surface, because deep down this empire and comfort only gave him the one thing he hated most; isolation. The loneliness he felt, the sadness he pushed deep down in his system to try and be someone to the eyes of his father. The thought of leaving all of this behind and starting new somewhere where Ilya Rozanov didn't exist was crossing his mind since he was fifteen and didn’t know better about the world. But he knew better now, and was one hundred percent his father would’ve found him even in the most remote place.
His gaze downed down to the busy streets, where the cars didn’t slow down, the people were meeting with other people for fun and where the lights burned with a hope he didn’t have. In his hands he was nursing a glass of vodka, the day was finally coming to an end and he didn’t have to pretend that he cared about numbers, employees or anything related to the business he ran since being 24. His phone buzzed on the inside of his suit pants and he huffed with annoyance. He grabbed the phone and looked at the screen, the name “Andrei” stared back at him, the call waiting to be taken.
“What now?” Ilya didn’t even mask the annoyance in the question, he saw Andrei—his brother—twenty minutes ago.
“You should come to the strip club today, you know, to liberate stress and shit” The voice of Andrei wasn’t as strong as the music blaring through the speaker of the phone.
“That's all? I’m ending the call now” Ilya snarled and Andrei let out a chuckle.
“Ilyusha, you should comeeee” the last ‘e’ sounded more like a tipsy chant, he was soon to be a 6’2” drunk russian man in a strip club.
“No, see you tomorrow” Ilya didn’t wait for his brother to say anything else, he just hung up.
This was typical behavior of his brother. He was older than Ilya, but he acted like a teenager who was looking for someone to have sex with. The only thing that made Andrei part of the company was the last name he—pitifully—shared with Ilya.
When the annoyance subsided from his head, the suggestion his brother made did make sense. He was thinking too much, his nerves were increasing for no good reason and the itch he had since yesterday was clouding his mind, making him lose control of everything that was happening around him. So, he grabbed his suit jacket, his keys and left the comfort of his cell that he called home and into the youthful night that awaited for him.
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The Canadian club was buzzing with people that night. The lights were bright against the skin of the people who were scattered around the dance floor. The bartender was serving drinks like the world would end tomorrow and the music was blasting in a way Shane didn’t remember that was possible.
He was covering a friend who called in sick that night. At first he said no, because he left behind this world months ago and said he was done with it, but his friend Fabian was really sick and when he was like that he tended to be more persuasive. Fabian told him that all the tips of the night would be for him, he didn’t have to split them. Shane was skeptical but didn’t say a word and accepted.
He left the club because the more time he spent inside here, the more difficult it became to hide the fact that he was an omega. A foolish one who thought he was okay in an environment where most alphas came to look for a good fuck and leave the place. The suppressants worked the way they were supposed to work, but the last straw that made Shane take the decision to leave was when one night he was giving a private dance to a client and the patch that he had in the inside of his arm fell out of his skin because of the sweat, making his scent impregnated all of the room. The alpha who was with him became feral to the scent and demanded Shane to let him bite his neck, Shane panicked and left the room with the excuse that he was bringing condoms. He in fact, didn’t look for condoms. He went to the office of Marleau, his boss, and told him he was quitting. That was a fucking situation he wasn’t looking forward to experience again. So here he was, on a random night at the club that he quitted 8 months ago, in the clothes he promised he wasn’t going to wear anymore and the same customers he was tired of seeing.
Shane saw the big man who was approaching him and he sighed. The last fucking person he didn’t want to talk to. Marleau had his way with everything and Shane thought he was going to be in the club for maybe 4 hours, smile, serve drinks and never look Marleau in the face, but God decided that those plans would no longer be possible because in front of him was Marleau. He was wearing a sheer button-up shirt, the first three buttons open leaving part of his chest to the sight, dark suit trousers and the same cocky smile he thought he was never going to see again.
“Shane, or should I say Jane?” Marleu stood next to him, his body leaning to the bar counter and looking at him like he was the Monalisa.
Jane was the name he used at the club so no one could know his real name. That was something he decided to do one night when a customer discovered his name and said it like a moan Shane repulsed with all his might.
“Good to see you too, Marleau” Shane mumbled, trying not to look his way. The scent of Marleau was making him want to throw up.
“I have a job for you, a big one actually” Marleau said and Shane looked his way. Big, curious eyes scanning the face of the man that was in front of him.
“Why me?” Shane’s brain thought the most gut-wrenching scenarios, even one involving a dead body. Marleau’s way of saying that sentence was coming from a place of danger, and he didn’t like that.
“Because you’re the only one who is available right now and that person is a friend of mine and I have to keep appearances with him.” Marleau barked and looked Shane directly in the eyes. “Can you do it? Or should I look for someone else?”
Shane’s plan to stay serving drinks and smile politely became absolute trash with the proposition of Marleau. He could do it, and then continue with his night like nothing had happened. It was just a dance, right?
“What’s the job?” Shane questioned and Marleau smiled, the same cocky smile Shane hated.
“Now we’re talking, Jane” Marleau scooched closer to Shane to whisper his job and he listened like the people pleaser he was.
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Ilya arrived at the club at 11:35 pm. He remembered this place like a second home. The first two years of him being a ceo of his father’s company he spent them here, buried in someone's legs trying to forget the world that was awaiting him in the morning.
It was different tonight. He was now 32. He was important and his name carried respect. He was looking for a good fuck and that’s it. He needed to forget all of the things that were in his mind and made it difficult to think, even exist. He needed this night. Once more he looked at his phone and the message of Marleau came in.
Marleau: The back door is open, someone is waiting for you at the door. Just come on in and they will escort you.
He opened the door of his car and stepped out. The cold air brushed his cheeks and his blonde curls. He walked to the door he knew Marleau said and knocked once. The door opened and behind it was a tall, broad man—no more taller than him—, clinical eyes taking all of Ilya’s in. That was not his date for tonight, was it?
“Mr. Rozanov, right this way please” The man made a short nod and began walking in front of him, leading the way.
The hallway was lonely and dim. The music could be heard through the walls, the buzzing of the night coming at Ilya like a wave he didn’t want to ride, he would rather drown in it just for tonight. The walk to the private booth took longer than Ilya was expecting, the man stopped at door 1221. Ilya guessed this was the one assigned to him for the night.
“This is the booth, Mr. Rozanov. Feel free to step in and make yourself comfortable.” The man stepped aside the door and with a curt nod, he left Ilya alone.
He took the knob and opened the door. The floor was a velvety red, the walls were decorated with chinese tapestry that looked cool in the dim lights of the room. Inside was only a bed with red satin covers, a red leather armchair facing the bed, and a nightstand with a lamp that right now was turned off. Beside the lamp was waiting a glass of vodka that Ilya wasted no time in taking. He seated in the red armchair, spreading his big legs making himself comfortable, just like the man said to him minutes before. He leaned his head back against the armchair and sighed. This felt wrong but at the same time he was giddy.
His mind wandered to the person who would take care of him tonight. Marleau murmured something about the name being Jane, so he was looking forward to meeting Jane and seeing what made her different from all of the women who worked here, in Marleau words. He could hear footsteps coming near the door outside of the booth and he didn’t flinch or move a muscle. The lock on the door opened and Ilya felt the presence of someone inside the booth.
“Hello?” The voice who talked sounded soft but not feminine. Ilya opened his eyes at that. Maybe they got the wrong booth. “I’m here for Mr. Rozanov” The same voice talked and pronounced his last name wrong, making clear that the booth was right and Marleau got the name wrong.
“Close the door and come in” He talked and the door shut almost instantly.
Shane couldn’t see the person because the chair was positioned in front of the bed and the back of the armchair was to the door. The voice was deep, silky and carried a russian accent that was turning him on just by saying that simple phrase. He didn’t know what to do, Marleau didn’t mention that the man was going to be awkward, he just said get the work done and that’s it.
“I want to see you, Jane” The man muttered and Shane felt his blood run cold. He walked to the center of the room, giving his back to the man. He wasn’t ready to see him and discover that the sexy voice was from a man whose only purpose was to seek attention from a young adult or worse, a repulsive man that was going to treat Shane like a slut.
Ilya took in the sight of the man in front of him. His back was defined, his hair was jet black and looked silky. His ass was to die for, Ilya was sure he had never seen one like that before. His legs were meaty and defined at the same time, and just by looking at him Ilya felt aroused.
“Turn around and let me see your face” Ilya murmured and took a sip of his drink, waiting for the man to turn around.
Shane felt the need to kneel in front of the man and let him do things with his body he never would think if it was another customer. But something in the voice of Mr. Rozanov and the way he said those things made him giddy. He turned around and his breath caught in his throat by the sight of the man in front of him.
In the armchair was seated a man, a glass of vodka forgotten in his hand. His white shirt hung open from the top to the middle, the stiff collar a stark contrast against the bronze of his skin. His brows were furrowed and a mess of golden curls tumbled over his forehead, he looked less like a businessman and more like a fallen statue—beautiful, heavy, and dangerously silent. To Shane, he looked like a man who had spent the night fighting a war he eventually lost. There was something magnetic about his blue piercing eyes that pinned Shane in place and wandered in his body without shame,
Ilya teared the man in front of him with his gaze. His hair was styled clean, the blackness of it making a contrast with the tan skin he had. The bridge of his nose was decorated with freckles and his brown eyes were pleading Ilya to make him whatever he wanted and pleased with him for tonight. His chest was broad and his abdomen was toned, making him look like a model of some underwear magazine. He only had black boxers as clothing and he could see the erection of Jane starting to come alive with every fucking minute. Ilya smirked at that, he was sure this was a night he was going to remember.
“Take the boxers off and climb to bed” Ilya commanded and the man in front of him furrowed his eyebrows, he clearly didn’t expect that. “Did you not hear me? Or do I have to do it myself?” Ilya barked and Shane began sliding his boxers off his body.
When he was done with that task, he climbed to bed and spread his legs in the red silky sheets, a sigh leaving his lips at the softness of the material against his skin. That sight made Ilya’s cock twitch with need, he instead took a sip of his vodka and looked at the sight in front of him. Out of nowhere and because Shane felt the burning gaze of the Greek god that was in front of him, Shane began to touch himself. His hands wandered in his chest, playing with his nipples and letting small whimpers leave his mouth.
Then his hand lowered more to the neglected cock who was waiting for attention. When Shane took his cock in his hands, a moan left his lips that he tried to restrain. He felt a deep burning pleasure that was consuming him and he needed the man in front of him to make something right now.
“Do you like to touch yourself, kotik?” Ilya muttered and Shane only nodded his way, the pleasure was too much to even speak.
“I need…” He moaned while he touched his cock slowly, putting on a show for Mr. Rozanov.
The sight in front of Ilya was pornographic, made him think of ways he could spread those beautiful meaty thighs and show Shane how good sex with Ilya Rozanov could be. The needy moans of the black haired man were the only sound filling the room.
“Tell me what you need and maybe I could give” Ilya hissed through his teeth, his hand touching his big erect cock over the clothes.
“I need you” Shane moaned and Ilya stood up from the armchair. He let the glass roll in the red velvet carpet that covered the floor and made his way towards the edge of the bed. Shane opened his eyes and looked at the 6’3” man who was beginning to unbutton his dress shirt. Shane could see his broad chest and the bronze skin covered in moles. His canines were itching to bite the skin of the man in front of him. His mind clouded his thoughts with a deep desire that made it difficult to be logical.
“dlya menya eto tak krasivo” Ilya murmured and his knees dipped in the bed. He towered over Shane and looked him in the eyes.
The russian made Shane moan more harder, in hopes Ilya took the hint and started touching him. Ilya touched one of the nipples of Shane with his finger and the way Shane moaned made Ilya make that movement again.
“You need me to fuck you, yes?” Ilya dipped his head down the crease of Shane’s neck and sniffled, a scent so sweet invaded his nostrils—like honey, mixed with a musky scent and a linger of cigarette—, Ilya sniffled and moaned at the scent that was presented to him.
“Yes, need you” Shane was lost in his own pleasure, that the thought of begging for someone to fuck him who was a stranger didn’t bother him in the slightest.
Ilya began to leave wet, open mouthed kisses in the neck of Shane, while he touched his nipples and played with them. Shane could only moan in response to the blinding pleasure he was feeling. The hand of Shane left his cock and wandered in Ilya’s chest. Then lowered until he was reaching the waistband of Ilya’s trousers.
“So eager for my cock and only thing I did was touch your nipples” Ilya chuckled and Shane whimpered, he needed him to touch him again. “If you want, you beg” Ilya murmured, pinching one of Shane’s nipples.
Shane opened his eyes and the way Ilya was looking at him made his belly twist with desire and hot, blinding need to have his dick inside him. He grabbed Ilya by the crucifix necklace that was dangling between them and murmured in his lips.
“Please, sir. I want your big cock inside me, I need it” Shane arched his back looking for friction and Ilya lost it.
He stood up beside the bed and began undressing. The hooded drunk-pleasured look of Shane looking at him like he hung the moon in the sky. Shane was feeling the slick ooze through his legs, preparing for the man with blonde curls.
“What’s your name?” Shane asked out of the blue and Ilya stopped searching for a condom, a laugh escaped his lips at the innocent question.
“Seriously?” Ilya murmured and Shane shrugged. “Ilya.” He mumbled and Shane repeated his name like a prayer.
“My name is Shane” He moaned and Ilya thought that he was going to come just by hearing this man say his name like a fucking slut. “Now, come here and fuck me” Shane said boldly and Ilya smirked.
“I like that, myshonok” He returned to the bed, his suit pants were off his body and on the floor and the task he was doing was long forgotten.
He positioned himself in the meaty thighs he wanted to touch since he saw Shane. So he did, more like a worship kind of touch. He realized that Shane was covered in slick, something only omegas could do. And Ilya thought he was seeing the most perfect human sprawled in the bed, looking like he was ready to surrender to him and give him everything.
“Is this okay?” Ilya introduced one finger inside Shane’s tight hole and the moan that left his lips made Ilya’s cock throb with need.
“More than okay, keep going” Shane begged and Ilya gave it to him. At this moment Shane could say to him he wanted to see the moon and Ilya would make that possible.
Ilya began fingering the tight hole of Shane, the only sounds were the moans of Shane, the squelch of Ilya’s finger inside Shane and the sharp breaths of Ilya trying not to lose control.
“FUCK! I need you, please, please, oh god” Shane arched his back and Ilya grabbed one of his nipples with his mouth, licking and giving little bites at it.
“Since you asked so good” The finger inside Shane stopped and left his hole, making him whimper in response.
Ilya attacked Shane’s lips in a harsh, aggressive kiss that made the insides of Shane twist with desire. He never felt like this, definitely something new he was sure was going to become an addiction. Ilya’s cock positioned right at the hole of Shane and he gasped when he felt the tip of his dick.
“Please” Shane moaned in Ilya’s lips and he growled, moving his hips, making it past the tip of his cock inside Shane.
“If you keep doing that, I lose control and become aggressive” Ilya hissed at the sensation of feeling Shane like this, vulnerable, at his disposal. Ready to take everything Ilya offered.
Ilya kept moving, coming to a stop when he felt all of his dick inside Shane. Shane fucking moaned like a porn star when the shaft of Ilya twitched inside of him. Discovering that he never felt this full by no one. And the sensation was so overwhelming he needed a little bit of time to process it.
Shane leaned his head in the pillow beneath his head and Ilya took the hint. He left kisses in that spot, smelling the scent of Shane. His teeth ached and his alpha screamed at him to mark him, bite him and breed him. This was a new feeling for Ilya too, all of his sexual encounters were never this intimate, because he was sure he would never let his partners act like Shane was in this moment.
“You okay, yes?” Ilya hissed, making the first movements with his hips. Shane whimpered and let out a soft ‘keep going’, too far gone in his mind to even speak.
Ilya felt in a bubble that he didn’t want to pop. This was too perfect to be real. The way Shane’s body took him like it was made to be there. The way Shane trusted Ilya to treat him right, even if they didn’t know.
“Fuck, i feel it” Shane mumbled. “Faster, please” Ilya growled at that and something snapped inside their bubble.
The movements of Ilya became erratic, whispering sweet nothings to Shane in Russian, and kissing him like the world was going to end right now, passionately, slowly and with something neither of them could pinpoint.
“Give it, dusha moya. Come for me” Ilya moaned and Shane saw white.
The pressure of Ilya’s dick, the friction of it, the sound the bodies made when Ilya thrusted inside of him, it was too much. Within minutes, Shane felt like his belly was on fire and cum shooted from his dick, covering his belly and part of Ilya’s abdomen.
Ilya thrusted inside of him, holding his hips with a force that Shane felt like a feather touch, and when the thrust became sloppier and more erratic, Shane knew he was going to come.
“That’s it, come for me” Shane moaned and Ilya came, his dick buried to the hilt inside Shane.
Ilya kissed Shane in the lips, maybe from the dazed state they were in, maybe for the feelings neither of them wanted to acknowledge. Ilya’s forehead rested in Shane’s chest, both trying to catch their breaths and regulate their emotions.
“That was a lot” Shane chuckled and Ilya raised his gaze towards Shane.
The bliss in his face was something so beautiful that Ilya was sure wanted to see it everyday. His hair was everywhere, his eyes were half lidded thanks to the orgasm, his lips were parted and red for the rough kisses Ilya gave him and the smile, the fucking smile Ilya knew was the most beautful thing in Shane along his freckles.
“Yeah, a lot” He whispered, putting his dick away from Shane and rolling beside him.
“Tell me something in russian, i want to hear more” Shane mumbled, putting his cheek in Ilya’s chest, the warmth of his body made Ilya wanted to be there everyday for the rest of his life.
“Yа khochu byt' s toboy vsyu zhizn', moya dusha.” Ilya whispered on top of Shane’s hair and felt something stirring in his chest.
He never let himself be this soft with no one, the fact that he was doing it with Shane out of the blue was something he wasn’t comfortable with, but couldn’t help it either. He was fucked and knew he needed to put distance to whatever the fuck this was going.