Work Text:
It all started when Troy asked Ilya for Shane’s number. Troy hadn’t known what he was going to do with the number. He would’ve eventually reached out to Shane, but about what? He was a dick to Shane not long ago, taunting and sneering right along with Dallas Kent. Fucking Kent and his homophobic slurs, pointing his finger at Shane like he was a disease, not realizing his best friend was gay too.
Troy would maybe text Shane, awkwardly bring up Shane coming out, and he’d mention he wasn’t the only one…like that. Shane and Scott aren’t the only gay players, and Troy would somehow switch the topic to asking Shane out. Shane was hot. Troy has had a crush on Shane Hollander for a long time.
When Troy asked Ilya for Shane’s number, he expected a bunch of reactions. Confusion on Ilya’s part. Maybe understanding because Shane was hot, and Ilya can’t ignore that. Shane was the most attractive player in the league. Ilya would tease Troy but ultimately hand over the number and wish him the best. There was a chance Ilya didn’t have Shane’s number, and that they only talked through email. The rivalry was still there, and partnership on a charity doesn’t mean friendship.
Though after getting to know Ilya, Troy has a tough time seeing Ilya genuinely hate someone. Except Dallas.
What he hadn’t expected to happen, was this.
Troy’s hands dig into Shane’s sweaty, tanned skin. His heart beats at a dangerous speed. He skims his lips over Shane’s shoulder, tasting musky sweat and peppermint soap. It’s addictive and tantalizing, and Troy chases the feeling, rolling his hips at an easy pace, relishing in the tight, wet heat.
“That’s all you got, Barrett?”
Troy meets Ilya’s heated gaze, and the sly smile stretched across his face. He doesn’t bat an eye at his boyfriend kissing and licking his throat and jaw.
Troy snaps his hips, fucking into Shane harder, bottoming out in one swift move. Shane gasps and nuzzles into Ilya’s neck.
“You have this one chance to have your way with him,” Ilya says. “You could at least fuck him right. He likes it hard. He wants to feel it for days. I think that’s what you want too.”
“Fuck you,” Troy growls, out of breath. He grabs Shane’s hips, forcing him back to meet his thrusts. He goes hard, the obscene sound from the slap of skin fills the room, and he smiles when Shane yelps, striking directly into his prostate.
Ilya had the plan in motion the second Troy showed up at their home. He told Troy to kiss Shane like he always wanted. He has the chance, and he better take it because it’s not happening again.
Troy stared at Shane for an embarrassing amount of time, unsure if he was serious about this. Shane stared back with careful, slightly wary eyes, studying Troy like he didn’t believe this either. Like Shane wasn’t standing there dressed in loose sweatpants and a shirt that hugged his biceps. His hair freshly clean and looking cute. God.
The first kiss was certainly something. He tasted the mouthwash on Shane’s breath and tongue, and he chased for more. Desire shooting forward as he yanked Shane in closer. He went in fast, nibbling and biting Shane’s lips and pressing him into the wall, figuring if this was some elaborate prank then he could at least get something out of it. A kiss from Shane Hollander will be a strong motivator for him to flirt with someone new one day.
It shocked Troy when Shane started kissing him just as fervently, grabbing his shirt and hair to pull Troy closer. The ravenous way he kissed sparked fire in Troy’s lower belly, a happy surprise that Shane was filthier in bed than Troy might’ve thought. His kisses were hungry, and he let out whimpers when Troy moved on to his neck and chest, and then down to his knees to blow him.
Nothing turned Troy on more than taking a cock in his mouth. Shane almost came down his throat, and he would’ve to Troy’s eager delight when Ilya told him to stop and get on the bed.
Shane sits on Ilya’s lap, knees on either side of him with Troy at his back. Ilya and Shane exchange hot kisses, with Ilya doing most of the work as Shane moans and whimpers. The view of them kissing is one that’ll live in Troy’s memory for the rest of his life, along with the desperate noises Shane makes. Two hot men making out as Troy fucks his crush. Shane gasping and whining Ilya’s name, and Ilya whispers things in Russian that must be praise based on the hungry, blissful look on Shane’s face.
Shane and Ilya kiss like they’re never going to kiss again. It’s filthy and lascivious, with teeth and tongue from Ilya. He licks into Shane’s mouth like he wanted to eat him whole. Shane is putty in Ilya’s hands, happy to go along and submit to him fully. All that trust is tangible, and it shows clear as day how much they mean to each other.
Troy is going to come. He can feel it, and Shane is clenching his cock tight. Shane’s delicious sounds, Ilya’s dark arousal aimed at Troy, the feel of Shane’s walls squeezing him, and the all consuming obsession with being able to have Shane like this - touch him however and wherever he wants - for a little while, all drags him to the edge.
“Can I?” Troy grunts. Shane is too out of it to hear. Ilya raises a brow. Troy gestures pathetically at Shane. “Can I hold him up? To me.”
Ilya kisses Shane’s parted lips, slipping his tongue inside. Shane is trembling, and he rolls his hips to get friction on his cock. Ilya slaps his side. “None of that. Troy hasn’t come yet. That’s what you’re here for, yes? To make Troy come? Get on your knees, lyubimyy.”
“I want him to come,” Troy breathes. He brushes his hands over Shane’s spine and lower back, admiring his back dimples. He caresses Shane’s ass, parting his cheeks to watch his cock fill him up. His hole glistens with lube.
“Aw,” Ilya says, tone teasing. He chuckles, not looking away from Shane. He kisses Shane’s chin and cheeks, aiming for the freckles splattered under his eyes. Troy has studied those freckles in magazines. “Such a romantic.”
Ilya moves with Shane, guiding Shane onto his knees. His back to Troy’s chest. Ilya kisses Shane, using his fingers to tilt Shane’s face to the side. Shane looks to be floating, pleasure painted on his features. He’s out of it, pupils dilated, cheeks flushed, and lips red and releasing all kinds of whiny noises. There’s a layer of sweat over his body, and Troy kisses his neck and wraps an arm around his middle. He goes harder, needing to make him come. He wants to make him come hard.
“Isn’t he pretty?” Ilya coos, hungry gaze trained on Shane. He grabs Shane’s thighs and waist to position him better for Troy. He kisses Shane’s neck.
“Yes,” Troy agrees and Shane shivers. He kisses the other side of Shane’s neck, craving him on his tongue. Shane trembles, moans rising, and getting closer to his orgasm. Troy can feel the way his body twitches around him, and he curses and fucks him deeper, managing to hit his prostate every thrust.
It all happens simultaneously. Ilya finds Troy’s mouth, and they kiss over Shane’s shoulder. Shane watches with half-lidded eyes, chest heaving and whimpering. He meets Troy’s thrusts, tries to between their hard bodies. He’s trapped where he’s at, with Troy clinging to him and Shane clinging to Ilya.
“Fuck,” Shane cries out, and he comes, hitting Ilya’s chest and stomach. “Ilya, fuck.”
Troy fucks him through it, and he watches Ilya and Shane. Ilya has Shane’s face in his hands, telling him to look at him. Shane’s eyes are watery and glazed over, and he murmurs something in Russian that’s a hint too intimate. It shouldn’t be so fucking hot, but it is and he comes with a guttural moan.
“Thank you,” Troy murmurs. He kisses Shane’s spine because it’s right there. He’s holding onto Shane tightly, and it takes a moment of catching his breath to remember he doesn’t have the right to do that. Shane doesn’t fight him, too captivated by Ilya and holding onto him to notice anything else.
Ilya looks at Troy with a complicated expression, and Troy reads enough to pull out carefully and head to the bathroom. He throws away the condom and washes off quickly. He’s back to being painfully awkward and uncomfortable when he enters the room. He puts on his clothes, avoiding looking at Ilya and Shane cuddling on the bed. Shane has his clothes on, and his face is as red as his. Neither Troy and Shane look at each other.
Ilya laughs, boisterous and entertained, and Troy realizes he’s still naked. He’s hard because he didn’t get off. Troy tries not to think about what’s going to happen when he leaves. “It is like seeing double sometimes. Go home, Barrett.”
Shane scowls at Ilya and Troy cracks a small smile. Shane finally meets Troy’s eye, and he is beautiful in the dimmed lights. “Goodnight, Troy.”
Troy is not fucking blushing. He does head for the door without looking back. “Goodnight, Shane. Thank you.”
He hears laughter and then a slap to skin.