Chapter Text
“Do you ever think of all the people out there wondering how Rose Landry fumbled this?” Ilya murmurs into Shane’s ear as he runs a teasing fingernail just under the head of Shane’s cock in the way that always makes Shane shiver.
They are cuddling on the couch in Ilya’s house in Ottawa watching Rose’s newest superhero movie. Objectively it’s one of her best yet, though she doesn’t think so. She never thinks her movies are any good.
Well they are only sort of watching. About 20 minutes into the movie, Ilya had slipped his hand into Shane’s shorts and started slowly stroking him. Since then, Shane’s attention has been divided between the movie and his boyfriend’s very talented hand.
If this sort of thing wasn’t common for them, Shane would wonder what Ilya was playing at. Some sort of exposure therapy to test just how gay Shane is. Apparently gay enough that he couldn’t satisfy his ex-girlfriend, but not so gay that he can’t get hard while said ex-girlfriend prances around on his television screen in a blue spandex suit that leaves almost nothing to the imagination. Not that Shane needs to imagine. He’s seen her nude a couple times. And maybe that’s another clue to how gay he is because seeing Rose naked had been nice. Certainly not bad. But also not… life changing? Or maybe it was because it resulted in that fateful conversation with Rose.
So much about Shane’s sexual experiences with women had been retroactively understood when he realized and accepted that he was gay, but the truth is his that most of his (admittedly few) experiences with same sex partners were only marginally better. The only stand out seems to be Ilya.
Shane scoffs at Ilya. “More like they’re wondering how I fumbled her, which would be correct by the way. She does not want a repeat performance of this.”
Ilya knows that of course. Knows that after a dismal few months of dating, Rose and Shane parted ways entirely amicably after Rose so kindly came out for Shane. Ilya knows that because Shane told him and then Rose told him. They’re friends now, all three of them.
“She says you are one of the best boyfriends she’s ever had,” Ilya says, running the pad of his thumb lightly through Shane’s slit, collecting precum to smear around his head.
“That’s her being charitable,” Shane argues around a contented sigh. He is definitely gay enough that his huge hockey playing boyfriend knows exactly the right ways to stroke him to make him want to melt into a puddle of lustful haze. “You know very well that although we are compatible in many ways, we are definitely not compatible in the bedroom.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Ilya agrees. “Was disaster, you said.”
Shane makes a snort of agreement that softens into a whine when Ilya hits a particularly sensitive spot on the underside of his dick head.
And maybe this is the kind of exposure therapy Ilya is playing at. The kind where Ilya reframes his anxious disasters into something sexy by making Shane relive them while Ilya edges him.
“Tell me why it was disaster,” Ilya prods as he rubs gently at the spot that makes Shane’s toes curl.
Ilya has asked about this before, but Shane has always been cagey about the details. Isn’t it enough to know that Shane is gay? Shouldn’t that answer the question?
“Don’t be shy.”
“It’s embarrassing,” Shane whines.
On the screen Rose is back in her blue spandex doing something clever to save the world. And yes, Shane does notice that her breasts are bouncing in such a way that is at least fascinating if not alluring. But Shane being Shane, he also notices the definition in her quads and calves and makes a mental note to text her later about how good they look and how much all of her lunges and calf raises are paying off.
“Is not,” Ilya presses. “You couldn’t please her like I please you?”
All right, so maybe it’s not exposure therapy Ilya has in mind, maybe it’s ego, or a little bit of latent jealousy he’s picking at. Either way, Shane kind of likes it. Sort of.
Shane sighs, knowing Ilya will not just drop it. “I had to concentrate so hard on keeping my erection and finishing that I couldn’t spare much for her pleasure.”
“Oh no,” Ilya croons, squeezing Shane’s dick as he does, likely to prod him into saying more.
“I knew I was being a selfish lover, but when I tried to focus on her pleasure, I would start to go soft. I felt terrible.”
“She doesn’t hold this against you, sweetheart. She knows you are very gay.”
“I think I’m the normal amount of gay,” Shane retorts, it’s their rehearsed bit even though yeah, he knows there’s a spectrum so there’s not really a “normal” amount of gay.
“Very gay for me,” Ilya says anyway.
“Well gay for you, but also you’re jacking me off while we’re watching my ex-girlfriend in skintight spandex on my television so that’s confusing,” Shane points out lightly.
“Hmmm,” Ilya hums as he considers it. “Do you think if I had been there you could have made her come?”
Shane startles at the thought, but he doesn’t lose his erection so that’s… something.
“You know how you like to be watched,” Ilya adds knowingly.
Shane doesn’t actually like to be watched. Not exactly. But he can’t deny that there is a thrill from the idea of being overheard or almost caught. And considering about half of his current sex with Ilya is via Facetime, maybe he does like being watched at least a little, especially when it’s Ilya doing the watching.
“That’s weird, Ilya,” Shane breathes, struggling to maintain his composure. Even though Ilya has only been teasing him, it’s all accumulating and he’s getting close.
Ilya just hums in response and seemingly drops it. Somewhere in the back of his consciousness, Shane knows that it’s not the last he’s heard of it, but it’s difficult to worry about that when Ilya is so skilled at taking him apart with his hand and fingers and tongue and hard, hard cock.
“Look at your big useless dick,” Ilya hisses as he pounds into Shane. “Isn’t even good for what it’s meant for. Can’t even fill up a pussy or an asshole. Just flops here against your belly begging for attention from my hand or my mouth.”
Sometimes Ilya’s dirty talk sort of crosses a line for Shane, it’s like Ilya wants to keep pushing Shane to see what will finally be too much, but for whatever reason this time it works and it’s what thrusts Shane over the edge—untouched. It’s Ilya’s “neat little trick” and Shane knows he will be hearing (and blushing) about for the next few days.
Later, when Ilya is cleaning Shane up with a wet face cloth, he asks a question Shane isn’t anticipating.
“Did sex with Rose not feel good?”
Sometimes Ilya speaks in circuitous ways, hinting around what he really wants to ask as if he’ll spook Shane with his real question. Shane has the sense that this is one of those times. Later he will wonder if Ilya is really asking why Shane never asks to top. Or if maybe if Ilya is tacitly asking if Shane wants to top him and is just not asking directly. If that’s the case, Shane is grateful for his round about way of addressing it because had he asked directly, Shane probably would have stammered and closed up without really thinking it through. But now, since the question hadn’t exactly been posed to him, he’s thinking about it.
Does Shane want to top Ilya? Does Shane want to top anyone? All those years ago, when Rose had essentially come out for him, Shane had told Rose that he preferred to be the hole rather than the peg, and that’s still true, but with hindsight he realizes it may not be the full truth.
The full reality of it is a complicated thing. At this point, Ilya is the longest and most consistent sex partner Shane has had, and Ilya is and has always been a service top, taking the dominant but caretaking role in their sexual relationship. For a very long time this is what Shane has needed and wanted. It’s what has allowed Shane to enjoy sex.
If Ilya really, really wanted to bottom for Shane, then Shane would agree to do it and maybe he would even be good at it and enjoy it, but it’s not something he ever sees himself asking to do. Topping requires a level of control and a confidence that Shane doesn’t feel like he has about sex.
In the past, when he has had sex with women, he was just too in his head about it. This is never a problem he’s really had with Ilya. In fact, Ilya is the only partner he could successfully get out of his head with. If that’s because he bottoms for Ilya or because he’s essentially been in some form of love with Ilya for the entirety of the past decade, Shane doesn’t know, but he’ll concede they are probably linked in some way.
“You know I had sex with more people than just Rose,” Shane says, slightly annoyed, instead of answering the question.
“Yes, but I don’t know those women,” Ilya replies pointedly. Shane would think he was upset about not having a more clear view of Shane’s sexual history, but he knows Ilya well enough to know that he doesn’t think of sex that way. Besides it would be incredibly hypocritical of him. Ilya can’t even remember the number of sex partners he’s had much less all of their names.
For the record, Shane doesn’t know all of the names of his female sex partners either. Outside of his first girlfriend, Jessica, and his most recent, Rose, the rest were few in number and mostly quickly forgotten in a haze of shame and disappointment.
Sometimes it feels ridiculous that he didn’t know he was gay until he was 26 years old. He envies people like Troy Barrett and Ryan Price and Scott Hunter who seemingly knew this about themselves always and never had to put women through the travesty of sleeping with a very confused, but very gay man.
Shane sighs. “No, it felt good. Good enough that I finished.” He doesn’t add “eventually” though it would be more accurate to do so.
Ilya hums and adds the little nugget of information to the secret repository in his head as he finishes with the face cloth and tosses it in the direction of the hamper.
“Your dick liked it, but not your head,” he eventually surmises as he snuggles into the bed around Shane, resting his head on Shane’s pec.
“Maybe my dick liked it but not enough for my head,” Shane amends, dropping his hand into Ilya’s curls and beginning to play with them idly.
“I bet it would have liked it more if you weren’t such a good boy and didn’t use a condom,” Ilya teases. Shane can hear the smile in his voice. “Feels much better without.”
“God no, that would have been worse,” Shane declares. “Then I would have been too afraid she might get pregnant.”
Ilya sniffs in amusement. “Is pill for that. But you and Rose would have made cute kids.”
Shane snorts a laugh. “That assumes I’d even be able to finish.”
“Mmm,” Ilya hums, sleep at the edges of his voice. “You would if I was there.”
“You are meeting Rose later?” Ilya asks through the speaker of Shane’s phone, his tinny voice bouncing off the tile walls of the hotel bathroom where Shane is staying with his team.
It’s the first time Shane will be seeing Rose in person in almost six months. They text regularly, often daily, but with their schedules, it’s rare that they’re in the same city. But now they’re both in New York. Shane has a game tomorrow afternoon, and Rose is there for press for yet another movie she’s headlining.
“Yes, this afternoon,” Shane confirms around his toothbrush. “Want me to tell her you miss her?”
“She already knows this,” Ilya says with his trademark cockiness. Most of the time he’s full of shit and Shane will tell him so, but this time Shane doesn’t doubt it. Ilya and Rose have developed a special sort of relationship, and they do actually text quite often and quite affectionately even as they rip each other to creatively worded shreds on Twitter and Instagram.
“You want me to tell her you keep asking about me fucking her while you watch?” Shane tries again.
Ilya makes an indignant noise. “Who said I was only watching. Maybe I want to join.”
“Haven’t you already had a lot of threesomes?” Shane reasons.
“Sounds like you are implying there is a lifetime limit,” Ilya claps back. “My punch card is not full.”
“Gross,” Shane says reflexively.
“Where are you meeting?” Ilya asks, changing the subject.
“Her assistant got us a table at some restaurant in midtown,” Shane replies.
“Is discreet?” Ilya asks.
“Not that discreet probably. It’s New York.”
Rose had originally wanted to go to Scott Hunter’s bar, but Shane had balked at that idea. If it was him alone, he wouldn’t gain much interest in New York, but when Rose is added to the equation, there will almost certainly be paparazzi and that means there will be photos on all of the gossip blogs by nightfall and at least a dozen body language breakdown videos on tiktok by morning.
There is apparently a fairly enthusiastic group of fans who still “ship” them as a couple. Shane finds that endearing and will most certainly attempt to get caught kissing her goodbye (with consent of course) just to feed their excitement (and Ilya’s jealousy).
Regardless, Shane had begged Rose to just find a quiet place where they could catch up. Rose had agreed as long as he would submit to going shopping with her afterward—for him not her. She loves to dress him up like a doll then use his credit card to pay and Shane loves to let her do it. Ilya does too because of the fashion show he gets later.
“Good, I can’t wait to read all of the strange fan theories about how you are still fucking and know that it is just me in your bed,” Ilya says, low and seductively. “How surprised they would be.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Shane huffs.
“You like it,” Ilya challenges.
“I don’t like that you’re constantly asking me about the sex I was having with my ex-girlfriend. Makes me feel weird.”
“You are so boring, Shane,” Ilya pouts. “What good is it having a boyfriend who has movie star ex-boyfriend if I cannot hear about it? Besides Rose would probably find it funny if you tell her.”
“You want me to tell her that I think you’re floating the idea of a threesome with her?” Shane spits, aghast.
“Would not have to be threesome,” Ilya muses. “I could just watch, no touching.”
“You just said you…” Shane huffs before his brain clocks that Ilya is just messing with him to rile him up. “You know what… fuck all the way off actually,” Shane grumbles.
“I won’t. I will sit here all alone with my hands to myself like a good little boyfriend and wait for you while you get papped with your movie star ex-girlfriend and all of the tweets say you are sleeping with her again.”
Shane rolls his eyes at the dramatic mental picture Ilya has painted. “You like Rose and you like it when we spend time together.”
Ilya forces a weighty pause before speaking.
“I do, she is good friend for you, and because of that good friend for me,” Ilya concedes, serious again. “Now go, or you will be late to practice and although I do enjoy angry Shane, he is only good to me when he is fucking me, and you are so so very far away right now.”
“I love you, Ilya,” Shane deadpans into the phone, though he does mean it.
“I love you too, sweetheart,” Ilya says all syrupy. Shane ends the call before he can add anything else.
Shane thinks back to the early days of his relationship with Ilya—the real one where they committed to each other not their casual situationship. Rose had been a sore spot for Ilya, one that he frequently griped about. At first Shane didn’t understand it. Rose had been the person who helped Shane understand he was gay, unintentionally becoming the first catalyst in a series of several that made their relationship feel like something they could want for, so why would Ilya be so jealous of her?
It was something Shane needed to fix. Rose was someone he needed to keep in his life, not just for the public relations aspect of it but rather because she understood him in a way no one besides Ilya did and she was much more effusive when helping him figure himself out. And she loved doing it and he loved her for loving it.
He can still remember telling her about Ilya, how careful he’d been and how delighted she’d been with a breathless, “tell me everything. How long has it been? Is he good in bed?”
Shane just couldn’t understand why Ilya would be upset at someone who literally wished him nothing but happiness. Over time and many, many conversations, Shane came to understand that it wasn’t really about Rose, but more about the wake of the “great tuna melt incident” and the publicity that Shane hadn’t realized his relationship with Rose had generated all the way back in Boston.
But now, Ilya really does like Rose. And he doesn’t mind it when Shane spends time with her. And, now Shane realizes, Ilya might also like it because he like to imagine Shane fucking Rose or not fucking Rose. It’s all very confusing actually.
Shane had been looking forward to seeing Rose, but the moment he sits across from her at a corner table in the brightly lit chic café her assistant had booked, all he can hear is Ilya’s voice in his ear.
Tell me why it was a disaster.
Don’t be shy.
She says you were one of the best boyfriends she’s ever had.
Shane is always a little twitchy in public, but Rose normally settles him. Today she is actually making it worse, and it doesn’t take long before she asks him what’s wrong.
Rose and Ilya share this, the ability to notice when Shane isn’t himself. When they point it out it makes him feel both desperately exposed and desperately loved. It’s a skill Shane wishes he had if only to reciprocate the feelings they elicit in him for those that he loves.
“It’s nothing,” he says, waving her off. “Just something dumb.”
Rose doesn’t say anything, she just fixes him with her cute little insistent pout. And see, this is why Shane once thought a relationship between them could work because Rose is objectively adorable even when she’s trying to get something out of him.
In addition to being adorable, Rose is apparently also manipulative because after a few seconds, Shane cracks.
“It’s… God,” he huffs. “I don’t even know how to talk about it.”
“Why?”
“It’s kind of about you,” Shane says, words rising like it’s a question even though it’s a statement.
“Well now you have to tell me,” she says, leaning over the table conspiratorially. If Shane were straight, he would notice how her breasts have been pressed together and are much more visible, straining against the cut of her dress.
Shane studies her for a second, this woman who has been the sole keeper of so many of his secrets for several years now, and he thinks, maybe he can do this. Maybe it would be good for him to do this.
“Ilya has been… I’m not sure. Working through something?” he starts. “Maybe he thinks he’s trying to work me through something.”
“Go on.” She takes a delicate sip from her glass of white wine, and it makes Shane wish he’d ordered something more than sparkling water with lime. Stupid performance diet. Stupid hockey.
“He keeps asking me for details about the sex we had.”
“Like you and me?” Rose asks doing a little finger dance between them as she does.
Shane nods.
“Is he jealous?”
“Maybe, but like he knows it was bad and wants to know why it was so bad and all that,” Shane explains. “He won’t really say why he’s asking all these questions about it. I’m not even sure he knows.”
Rose gets a contemplative look. “Is he like floating the idea of a threesome?”
Shane’s eyes go wide. How is she so calm about this?
“I don’t know. He’s already had plenty of those, though.”
“Threesomes aren’t necessarily a one and done thing,” she says thoughtfully. “Especially for gay men. They’re actually pretty common for gay men, even those in a committed relationship.”
And not for the first time Shane thinks that if he had more gay friends maybe he’d be less weird about this.
“God, you sound like him,” he tells her instead. “I’m not sure that’s what he’s asking for, but like, why? By all accounts I was complete shit at that part of our relationship.”
“Shane, you weren’t,” Rose says, reassuringly, reaching across the table for his hand as she does.
“Yes, I was,” he asserts defensively, but doesn’t pull away from where she’s lightly resting hers over it.
“No, you really weren’t that bad. I’ve had worse with straight men who were very enthusiastic,” Rose tells him in a way that doesn’t sound at all patronizing. “In fact, if I didn’t think you wouldn’t enjoy it, I’d do it again. With you.”
“You would?” Shane coughs out.
“Yes.”
“You’d subject yourself to sex with me again?”
“Yes, but it sort of hurts my feelings that you’re this surprised or that you used the word ‘subjected,’” she admits.
“No, no… well I am,” Shane amends, almost as confused as he sounds.
They’re interrupted then by their server with their food. Once she’s left, Rose picks up where they left off.
“I think you and I remember the experiences differently,” she says as she spears a few pieces of lettuce from the salad on her plate.
“We do?” Shane asks around a delightful bite of salmon. Who said a performance diet has to be gross? Oh, Ilya. That’s right.
“Yeah, what I remember is how good you looked naked. I swear just seeing you got me halfway there. And your ass. Shane. Seriously. I could have just bit it.”
Ever the actress, Rose take an exaggerated bite of her salad to illustrate what she’s thinking.
“I think I would have liked it if you did,” Shane half-jokes, earning a smile.
Rose leans in again and lowers her voice. “That’s not even getting to your penis which is unfairly large, honestly. I remember that you were so so serious, but you were gentle and you could go for like, forever.”
Shane tries unsuccessfully not to blush. He knows stamina is the opposite of what he has when he is with Ilya who routinely gives him shit for going off so quickly. Shane has always understood that Ilya sees it as a compliment to his prowess and attractiveness. It’s bewildering to think that Rose sees the opposite as a good thing. Maybe she wouldn’t if she knew the truth of it.
“So like, yeah, if I’d thought you were having a good time I would have definitely gone back for more with the expectation that we would have tried more things, and you would have learned what I like and I would have done the same for you.”
As they finish their lunch, Shane finds himself wondering what Rose likes in bed. As her ex-lover he should know, or at least have an inkling, but all of his memories are of himself and how he was failing at having sex with Rose and isn’t that actually the problem? That he was too focused on himself to be focused on her. Why would she want to go back to a lover like that? Maybe that is the real sad part about it all.
Shane waits until he and Ilya are together again in person before he tells Ilya about his conversation with Rose.
If Ilya is surprised at any of it, he doesn’t let on. Instead he just says, “Of course she’d have sex with you again. You are very sexy.”
Unfortunately for Shane, Ilya also doesn’t let on about his motivation for bringing it all up in the first place. He just rubs Shane’s feet in the heartbreakingly intimate way he does when he wants to pamper Shane and listens intently as Shane narrates how the rest of his visit with Rose went—three new outfits and all.
Ilya doesn’t seem the least bit jealous or upset as Shane shows him photos of the impromptu fashion show Rose had goaded him into filming. Nor does he bring up sex at all until they are getting into bed and beginning the evening love making that has become somewhat routine but never boring for them now that they live closer and can spend more time together.
In fact, Ilya doesn’t bring it up again at all and Shane would have the sinking feeling that he’d ruined the forbidden transgressiveness of it by telling Rose, except that Ilya is acting normal, good even on the scale of Ilya, and between the two of them, it has translated into a lot of hot, uninhibited sex. One night a few weeks later, Shane even talks Ilya into trying a butt plug with a surprising degree of success.
Neither is clamoring for Shane to try topping Ilya, but Shane wonders if maybe Ilya pushing Shane to clear the air with Rose about his performance in the bedroom hasn’t had other smaller positive ripples. Shane definitely feels lighter when he thinks about his relationship with Rose and the wobbly panicked, shame filled feelings he used to get when he was made to think about sex with women or his failed romantic relationship with Rose feel less overwhelming now. ‘She’d have sex with me again,’ he repeats to himself when they attempt to creep up from whatever dark, shame filled place they reside in his psyche.
The combination of the good, more regular sex, and the release of some of his shame around it seems to help Shane to walk a little taller and with a little less of the tension that is always coiled in him. One of his teammates even asks if he’s gone on “happy pills.” Nope, just good sex. He doesn’t say that, of course, opting to deflect instead.
“Lily?” Hayden asks.
“No comment,” Shane responds, which is probably as good as a confirmation.
Surprisingly it’s Rose who brings the threesome thing up again and it’s via text message to the group chat between her, Shane and Ilya.
This made me think of you 😘
It’s a photo of something, tree roots possibly, that’s meant to look lewd—specifically like a vagina being penetrated by two dicks.
Ilya responds almost immediately with three emoji’s 🍆 💦 😏
Then, This is hot. Don’t give me ideas.
A week later, Rose sends a photo of the Eiffel Tower, which she had presumably taken since she is filming in Europe. Shane doesn’t understand the reference at first, then when he does, he has a blinding realization that he’d like to be the center just as much as one of the outside pillars. Ok, he’ll need to file that away because shit, does that mean he wants a threesome?
After that, the texts become a semi regular thing. If any of them see something vaguely lewd that could in some way refer to sex or specifically a threesome, they snap a photo and drop it in the chat.
Rose is the most creative, often sending things you have to sort of squint at to get, or highbrow things like a snap of an Ancient Greek fresco showing a rather detailed depiction of an MMF sexual encounter that she saw at a museum she visited on a day off filming.
Ilya is more chaotic, contributing some vaguely traumatizing hentai monster porn one week then more tame things like his own hands cupping the breasts of a bronze statue next.
‘Did you know that the oil from skin is bad for the finish of the bronze,’ Shane almost sends but instead deletes.
Outside of the photos, Ilya is surprisingly respectful in the chat even as he is enthusiastic and silly. And while a few gifs of porn make their way into the chat, none of them ever send real nudes of their own. The closest they get is a screen cap of explicit fanart of Shane that Rose finds on Twitter. Apparently Shane’s fans are as creative as he is in bed. Well, almost. The fanart depicted him alone and while he does do plenty of solo sex, he prefers sex with Ilya more.
Shane also contributes a few photos, though they tend to be less explicit. A strawberry that looks vaguely like a vagina, which, after pleas from Ilya and Rose, he poses for a selfie with. Actually he takes two selfies with it—one of the strawberry and his face to be ironic, the other with just the strawberry and a close up of his tongue as if he were licking it. It’s the most enjoyable simulation of eating pussy Shane has ever engaged in considering he never much liked eating box nor does he think he was good at it.
A few weeks later he sends a photo of a bumper sticker that says ‘two sticks are better than one.’ The words are illustrated with hockey sticks, positioned opposite one another like a face off. He has no idea what the reference is or if there even is one, but it seems to fit.
Rose responds immediately. I am going to make this into shirts for your bachelor party!
If it’s weird to be simultaneously having a months’ long conversation about having a threesome and now planning a wedding none of them mention it.
“Dude, are you back with Rose?”
Shane startles immediately, almost dropping his phone. He had been standing facing his stall in the locker room and hadn’t noticed Renaud come up behind him.
“No,” he replies reflexively, but he’s less sure that’s the case. They aren’t dating exactly. He and Ilya are and they are monogamous except for the semi-explicit chat they have with Rose. Sometimes it does feel like Rose is part of their relationship, though. Maybe not as their girlfriend but as their part time third who they’ve never actually had in their bed—well not their joint bed.
Still, they do take care of her. They invite her for Christmas in Ottawa when she is filming in Toronto and send her chocolate and roses on Valentine’s Day and champagne to mark the wrap of the latest movie she’s filming. They chat about life a lot and at least twice, Ilya makes her check in with him once she’s made it home safely after a dodgy date.
Taylor, who had apparently also been looking over Shane’s shoulder at the explicit text Rose had just sent, reaches for Shane’s phone just as Renaud does and there is a tussle over it, one that, with two on one Shane loses just long enough for the two of them to scroll up a little bit and see some of the more recent dirty texts they’ve all exchanged.
Shane lunges for his phone, but that draws the attention of a few of the other guys who gather around to look at his text thread with Rose and Lily. A few give low whistles.
“Dude, this looks like a menu of services.”
“No, this is a list of requests.”
“It’s a joke,” Shane asserts weakly, still trying to get into the scrum of teammates now jostling to see his phone screen. And that’s true, it is a joke. But maybe Shane wants it to be more?
“Dude, Lily is on here too? Both of them?”
Shane cringes.
“Damn, sir, I didn’t recognize your game!”
“I didn’t know you had it in you, Cap!”
A chorus of whoops follows.
“You really keep your cards close to your chest. Don’t you Hollander?”
That last one was JJ.
Capitalizing on their shock, Shane reaches for his phone and successfully grabs it back.
“Listen, even if this were what you are thinking,” he starts, rounding on all of them. He isn’t sure what to say, but he knows he needs to kill this before it becomes a rumor. “And it’s not, it’s a joke. Rose is cool and gossiping about her or selling her out to the media is very not cool. None of you will do something so deeply uncool as that. Because if you did, I would find many, many ways to make the remainder of our season very uncomfortable for you.”
“What? Like the back of a Volkswagen?” someone shouts.
“Worse!” Shane shouts back, doing his best to look menacing. Everyone averts their eyes. Figuring this is the best he will get, Shane locks his phone and stalks out, looking for a quiet place to have a panic attack.
He settles on a bathroom stall, aiming for the very last one which is ironically, a handicapped stall.
With shaking fingers, he types into to the text thread.
I was in the locker room when Rose sent that last text. My team saw it and now they think I am planning a threesome… with two women.
Ilya’s response is almost immediate. Little did they know you want to be the middle of that Eiffel Tower.
Shane can hear Ilya’s teasing tone in his mind as he reads the text. It is as comforting as it is infuriating (and it’s correct).
I threatened them, but if this gets out, I am so, so sorry.
An agonizing minute later, Rose responds. Shane, chill.
Pretty sure my reputation can do worse than people thinking I am having a threesome with you and another girl. In fact it might be good for my brand. The blue spandex only takes my sex appeal so far. 😂
And there’s that thing about being so seen by both Ilya and Rose. Shane could cry. Or vomit. Or get a hard on. Jesus, why does he have a semi from this text convo?
He refocuses.
Seriously. I apologize
Rose doubles down.
Seriously, it’s fine. But if you want to grovel… consider groveling with more of that champagne and chocolate.
Then Ilya tries to lighten the mood.
That’s right Mr millionaire. Pony up with the expensive stuff.
Shane scoffs at his phone before responding, Hey you are partly responsible for this too. You were the instigator.
Ilya is unrepentant, though.
I didn’t tell Rose.
Also
I am but a humble hockey player. All I can offer is orgasms.
But it’s Rose who gets the real last word.
I might be amenable to that as long as Shane is.
Ilya hearts Rose’s text, but Shane leaves it on read. He has to go back into the locker room and play a game and the last thing he needs to be doing is thinking about having a threesome with Ilya and Rose. It’s the sort of thing that fills him with something that he can’t quiet discern from terror or thrill.
The thing is, the longer Shane thinks about it the more he kind of wants to do it.
There could be something healing in having a fun sexual experience that involves Rose and him both having orgasms. For some reason the thought of Ilya being there fills him with a sort of confidence that that could happen and could actually be good for all of them.
“So Rose knows Lily?” Hayden asks later that night when they’re in their hotel room readying for bed. It’s rare Shane has to share with anyone anymore, but when he does, it’s almost always Hayden.
“Yeah, I mean they met once and they text pretty regularly,” Shane admits with as much vagueness as possible.
“And the thing in the locker room today was what?” Hayden asks.
Shane hadn’t thought Hayden had seen much. Of all the guys, Hayden is probably the smartest about not trying to look at Shane’s phone lest he see something he can’t unsee, but Shane would guess the guys are still talking about it and Hayden probably picked up enough just from that. Shane silently vows to himself that he will ensure the worst of the offenders do suicides until they puke when they return home tomorrow.
“I don’t know,” Shane says, trying not to sound anguished over something that would be anyone else’s dream. Well not anyone, but it would certainly be a dream for a lot of men. “It started as a joke, but now I think it might be more.”
Hayden gets that look where he is re-evaluating everything he knows about Shane in real time. Then he smiles a wicked smile.
“Oh my God, I can’t wait to tell Jackie. This is the shit she lives for.”
Shane groans. He can’t tell Hayden to keep something from Jackie just as Hayden can’t ask Shane to keep anything from Ilya. Well, Hayden sure tries, but Shane doesn’t even entertain the idea unless it involves team strategy.
“Seriously Hayd, she can’t tell anyone,” Shane says, panicked again. “Not people at book club, not the WAGs at wine night, not people in the drop off line at school.”
“I dunno. Might be good for your reputation,” Hayden teases. “You saw how all the guys got excited.”
“For me maybe, but for Rose?” Shane spits, aghast that they all think he would be so self-centered.
“Shane, calm down. Jackie knows how to keep a secret. She keeps all mine.”
Shane rolls his eyes. “Pretty sure no one cares about your skincare regimen or that you like her to spank you in bed and tell you what a bad boy you have been.”
“Shane!” Hayden squeaks.
“What? You’re not as quiet when you are on the phone as you think you are,” Shane says flatly. “Besides, Jackie told me about that last bit.”
Hayden gives Shane his best impression of a withering look, but it dies quickly.
“She was drunk,” they say in unison.
“You know how you can make it up to me?” Hayden declares.
“Why am I making things up to you?” Shane challenges, exasperated. “You’re the one threatening to perpetuate rumors about me and my ex-girlfriend.”
“When it happens, you can tell me all about it,” Hayden continues undeterred.
Frowning, Shane does his best to look unimpressed. “You’ll be waiting a long time for that.”
“You already had all of that sex with her and you told me zilch about it,” Hayden all but whines.
Shane bites back a rebuttal that it wasn’t really all that much sex and it really wasn’t great, but he stops himself. He takes a breath and in his mind he repeats to himself, ‘She’d have sex with me again’ and recenters.
“Yeah, still not happening.”
But he is less and less sure it's true even as he says it.