Chapter Text
There were many ideas that Shane had had that may have been considered "bad”.
Of course, at the moment they were thought up, the ideas were brilliant. The most notable was at a rodeo themed frat party his sophomore year of college. Hayden had decided, with way too many tequila shots in his system, and even more beer, that wrestling in the mud would attract the attention of the girl in his Econ 2A class, Jackie. And being the good friend that Shane was, the responsible designated driver of their group, had volunteered to make sure Hayden wouldn't hurt himself.
That is not what ensued.
The night ended with Hayden having a sizable shiner around his left eye and a busted lip. Shane was lucky enough that his face remained untouched, but a scar, about an inch and a half long, made residence on his left shoulder. He supposes it didn't all end bad, Jackie and Hayden were celebrating their 2 year anniversary in a couple weeks.
The point is, Shane has had some pretty terrible ideas.
Yet, this probably tops the stupid idea cake.
Shane had been with his girlfriend for around 2 months now. Chloe was nice. She was pretty. Very pretty. And Shane was aware of it. If Shane not having eyes made it obvious, the stares she got when they walked around hand in hand did.
She was smart too. He thinks. She majored in political science, which Shane really had no idea what it was about, and for the most part she didn't seem stressed during midterm season. So, yeah, she was smart, Shane concluded.
And he liked her. She was sweet enough, and she smelled nice. Her perfume was floral and vanilla, and even though she sprayed too much and it assaulted his senses most of the time, leaving his head pounding and his nose on the cusp of spewing blood. He liked her.
But there was something. Something that Shane hadn't mentioned to her, and something he probably won't ever mention. Something that made his stomach turn, in a good way or a bad way, Shane hadn't figured it out yet.
When they had sex it was…okay.
It wasn't like the scenes in the movies, the gasping and the moaning. The fluid movement of the actors bodies against one another.
It wasn't like in the porn he watched. The eccentric screams of the girl and the equally loud grunts of the man when he finished inside of her or got her to squirt around his cock. The rough movements of the guy manhandling the girl into different positions and stretches that had Shane wincing in discomfort. When he finished to the porn, he would quickly exit the browser and try to forget the fact that he stared at the man for the entirety of the video, or that he specifically looked for videos in Russian, or where the man had blonde curls and striking blue eyes.
No… the sex between him and Chloe was not like that.
Truthfully, it was quite an awkward affair.
They would begin with kisses. Light ones that would progress into messier ones that introduced their tongues. And she would climb on top of him and grind her hips down into his, her hands exploring his built torso and eventually remove their shirts. And Shane would get hard, eventually.
If he had to think back to the last porn video he watched where the man was holding the girl down by the neck, pounding into her from behind while groaning in pleasure, his abs tensing with each thrust in. His face overcome with pleasure and sex, turning a bit pink from the energy exerted over his hard, punishing thrusts.
If he had to think about that, then sobeit.
And while he was on top of his girlfriend, he had to envision the man from the video to stay hard, and to finish. Well that was nobody's business.
Except… at the end, when he finished and his girlfriend hadn't yet, yeah that…that might've been a problem.
A problem that brought him here. In front of his roommate's door.
Believe him, he wouldn't be doing this unless absolutely necessary. He had tried, he really did. Shane had eaten his girlfriend out and used his fingers but the vigor wasn't there. Had listened to her when between her pants and groans she would tell him, "...there…more…harder…” but for whatever reason as he thrust into her from behind, in the exact same position as the man and woman in the video. He couldn't get her to finish.
Shane knew what embarrassment was, knew what it was like to be embarrassed in front of his roommate. Was embarrassed when he could hear his roommate, Ilya, and the girls he brought over almost every weekend in the throes of pleasure. Was embarrassed when he fisted his cock in his hand to the grunts and moans that left his roommate’s mouth behind both closed doors.
Was embarrassed again when the next weekend he came loudly and messily across his sheets as he rutted his painfully hard cock into his mattress. At the same time Ilya was no doubtedly coming in whichever girl had the luck to be under him that night.
This was different though.
Shane knew Ilya was quite knowledgeable when it came to making girls come. If the loud squeals and screams that came multiple times in one night wasn't evidence, the whispers that would fall on his ears between girls who shared their experiences with the Russian lover were.
And Shane had thought he knew Ilya well enough that Ilya wouldn't judge him. Wouldn't laugh at him or spill his insecurities to the others on the hockey team. They’ve known each other since freshman year for fucks sake. That's how they're roommates in the first place.
Shane thought they were close enough friends. Sure, they didn't really interact much at practice due to Shane being captain and having to look over the entire team and not just Ilya. And they didn't really see much of each other at their shared apartment. With Shane juggling his lectures, discussions, labs, and being a head intern at a well-established chemistry lab he rarely spent time at the apartment.
Okay so maybe this wasn't a good plan.
Maybe he didn't know Ilya as well as he thought he did. He knew the guy could be a giant asshole. He'd been on the receiving end of his chirping more times than he could count.
The term "boring” had been used the most frequently, and Shane had to pretend that the word didn't make him flinch and want to hide in his room and cry.
The guy more than anything pissed him off. Of course Shane could admit he enjoyed rules and structure more than the average person. He was autistic. It came with the territory: what could he say?
But there was something else about Ilya that had him wishing every time they were one on one to magically disappear or sink into the floor. Something that made his heart beat faster than his normal resting rate. Something that caused the flesh on his face to burn and flush into a sweet pink color that Ilya had commented on more than once.
Something that, on those nights where Ilya had company, made Shane become a fiend. That made him come three times in one night just from overhearing Ilya and his company in the room next to his. Sweaty and messy and loud, coming with an embarrassingly high pitched moan and drool that more than once stained his dark blue sheets.
Shane had concluded the feeling was jealousy.
It had to be the reason.
Shane was jealous at the fact that Ilya could easily take a girl apart over and over again. He was jealous that Ilya was able to have time to go out and have fun, maybe too much fun. Jealous that Ilya's mind didn't keep him barred from letting loose and not flooding with thoughts every second of everyday. Jealous of Ilya's stature that had at least four inches on Shane's own. Jealous of the bulk of muscle that made its home on Ilya's everything.
By no means was Shane not muscular. He was over 200 lbs of pure muscle, most of it in his thighs that rippled with each step, his chest and biceps that flexed each time he did a minuscule task.
But Ilya. Shane didn't know what they fed kids in Russia but whatever it was had to be what contributed to Ilya's size. Biceps the size of someone's head and thighs that were even bigger. Defined abs that, admittedly, Shane had stared at and had to readjust his pants to hide his half hard cock.
Shane shook his head and blinked a couple of times in a row to shake away the image of a shirtless Ilya.
Right, he was here standing in front of his roommates door at 10:30 at night to ask for tips. Sex tips. Help because he was pretty sure if he couldn't make his girlfriend come in the next week she very well may break up with him.
He lifted his fist to knock on Ilya's door and paused.
Maybe this wasn't a good idea anymore. Maybe Ilya wasn't even home. Maybe he was already asleep.
Shane had a thousand excuses pouring into his head to not knock on this door and possibly embarrass himself to the point of seriously jumping off of a bridge after.
The door opened swiftly and unexpectedly, causing Shane to snap his head forward and slightly tilt it up to look at Ilya's face that was far too close to his own.
"Hollander you've been standing outside for like, ten minutes,” Ilya looked good. So good. Shane gulped as he looked down and saw just sweatpants hanging dangerously low on Ilya's hips, his v-line on display and the thick hair that ran from his belly button under the sweats caught Shane's attention a bit too much.
“Are you going to keep staring at me or are you going to talk?” The question lifted Shane out of his daze and he refocused on Ilya's face. One of his eyebrows was raised and he had a crooked smirk displayed on his face.
“Oh…right,” Shane really didn't know if it could get worse than this. "Could I maybe come in?” He pointed lightly towards Ilya's room and gave a small smile.
Ilya's eyebrows furrowed before he shrugged and moved out of the way, going to sit down on his bed, gesturing for Shane to sit at his desk.
“What does my boring roommate wish to talk about, hm?” Ilya slightly reclined on the bed, his torso supported by his arms that were stretched behind him. “Dish schedule? Who must take out trash each day? What decorations we put up for holidays?” Ilya rattled off a list of, admittedly, boring and even worse, things Shane had brought up to him at one point during their time living together.
“Decorations? It's the middle of March,” Shane's brows furrowed.
“Well,” Ilya shrugged. “Not first time you ask stupid boring question like this,” Shane just rolled his eyes and gave a large sigh before settling again.
Asshole, he thought. He also thought that Ilya looked too good but that's neither here nor there.
“Listen,” Shane put on his serious voice, a voice that he knew Ilya would take at least partly seriously. “I have…a favor to ask of you.” Shane rubbed his palms against his shorts and took a deep breath before continuing.
“You've…had lots of sex,” at that Ilya sat up and gave a quizzical look. “And…you're good at it?” Shane made it more of a question than he wanted it to be. “I have a girlfriend, right?” Shane looked up from his hands that had taken to start picking at the skin around his nails, a habit he'd had since before he could remember.
“If you are asking for threesome Hollander I am flattered–” Ilya started with a wide smile on his face and a bit of laughter in his voice. Shane cut him off abruptly, “No! That's not– no I wasn't–” Shane's face was on fire at this point, and he was sure his blush was slowly growing towards his chest.
“Oh, so you calling me whore then? A slut?” Ilya's eyebrows were both raised and he had an accusatory tone that Shane did not appreciate, his blush only getting worse by the minute.
Shane almost launched himself out of his seat at that response. “Holy shit dude, no! Well, I mean–” he cut himself off before making an even bigger fool of himself. "Listen, man I just wanted to ask if you could teach me some tips on how to make girls come,” it all spilled out before Shane could articulate it in a more eloquent manner.
The laugh that came out of Ilya was almost inhuman.
His shoulders shook with such intensity and he nearly fell off the bed from how hard he was shaking. The tears in his eyes only made it worse.
The shouting of “I'm gonna pee!” over and over again made Shane wish he brought a gun to shoot himself with and alter the course of Ilya's life forever.
Then he could ask who was laughing now.
“Okay dude, fuck you like seriously,” Shane got up and stormed out of the room, not even bothering to shut the door on his way out.
Shane wondered how many stories were needed to jump off of and die on impact.
He made his way to his own room and closed the door before locking it and throwing himself on his bed. The embarrassment controlling all of his actions when he ripped his comforter off of his bed and rolled himself up into a cocoon of insecurity and self-hatred.
It hadn't even been 5 minutes in his cocoon before Ilya knocked on the door. Shane didn't answer him.
"Hollander?” Ilya's voice cut through the door and Shane still didn't answer.
The door handle rattled as Ilya tried to open his door without any luck.
He sighed before continuing, “Hollander, I am sorry. I was not expecting such thing from you,” in Ilya's offense he did sound apologetic, Shane thought.
“I understand it is not fun topic. I will help you…” Ilya continued.
“Shane?” The first name was unexpected but not unwelcome, and it made Shane’s stomach do a weird turn he couldn't make out before he unraveled himself from his shame wrap.
The sound of feet scuffing against the floor signaled to Ilya that Shane was coming to the door and he took a small step back before the door clicked from being unlocked and swung open.
The look that painted Shane's face made Ilya's chest feel tight, and he felt even worse than he did two seconds ago, a lot worse. Shane's eyebrows were furrowed and he had a small pout on his lips, his brown eyes looked up slightly due to his head being tilted towards the floor as he peered up at Ilya through his lashes.
He's beautiful, Ilya thought and he shook that thought from his head to focus back on Hollander and not his pouty lips that were begging to be turned pink and swollen from Ilya's own.
“...Really?” Shane felt pitiful, but he truly did need the help. He couldn't bear any more embarrassment from being broken up with over the fact he couldn't make his girlfriend feel good.
“Yes, Hollander. Am sorry for laughing,” Ilya had his left hand on the back of his neck and was slowly rubbing it. “It is brave to ask for something like that. Will you come back to my room?” It was true. Ilya thought that the question took a lot of someone to ask, and he admired that.
“You won't…laugh again or…make it weird?” Shane asked while at the same time stepping out of his room and slowly walking towards Ilya's.
Once both of them were back in Ilya's room, Ilya closed his door and started rifling through the bottom drawer of his dresser.
“No laughing and no making weird, just teaching,” Ilya must have found what he was looking for because he stood up from the deep squat he was in and turned around to face Shane who decided to sit at the edge of the bed.
“Okay that's–” Shane's eyes trailed down to see what Ilya had gotten from his drawer and paused his sentence.
In Ilya's hand was a fleshlight and a bottle of lube that was half gone.
“We start now, yes?”