Chapter Text
"I could tell you the truth, but first you gotta earn it."
Shane deleted the text and let his eyes fall closed. He was so stupid. Of course Rozanov didn't care, care about whatever their thing was, care about whether or not they kissed. God, he needed to get drunk, he could not keep thinking about this, about Ilya Rozanov, about how easily he had folded for the man. He finds the nearest bar that's not in this godforsaken hotel.
"Don't gotta lasso the moon, just tell me that i'm perfect."
As he orders a beer, all he can think about is how all it had taken was a little bet. a little competition, and he was back in Ilya's arms. He was so weak. He could win against anyone, but Ilya. Ilya always had a leg up on him.
"Oh maybe i'm too easy, or maybe you're too hard."
And he wants to blame Ilya, his coldness, his inscrutability. But he had signed up for it, he had given in to every one of Ilya's whims. He chugs a second beer.
"I've always been real good at, taking it too far."
It was his fault for thinking it was more than this. That maybe Ilya might want to talk to him. Do anything more than fuck him and smoke a cigarette to get rid of him. Ilya had never indicated that this would be anything more. He had never been this dismissive, but he had never talked particularly much either.
"Let's let fate decide, heads we'll go to yours, tails we'll go to mine."
He wonders if it would have been any different if he had won MVP as he orders his fourth beer. What would he asked for? He wouldn't have asked for a kiss. It probably would have been mostly the same. He would have asked for Ilya to fuck him. Then Ilya would have kicked him out. Same ending.
"You're a bad idea, but a real good time."
But it was so good with Ilya. That was the worst part. He would jack off to the memory of Ilya watching him for the next few months at least. And then he would jump right back into Ilya's bed for new material the next time Ilya asked. God he was so fucked.
"Oh and i'd be lying if I said i didn't love it cause I do."
It had turned him on. Ilya's coldness. How he had domineered. He'd felt like shit as soon as he left, but in the moment, he'd wanted nothing more than for Ilya to treat him like a slut to be watched. To be used.
"I'm a couple minutes out from relapsing into you."
God he needs to stop thinking about this. Maybe another beer?
"Oh fuck it, baby I love it. I love it I love it I-"
He takes his fifth beer to the dance floor. The song plays in the club and through his mind. Tears fall down his cheeks as he remembers how Ilya had looked, how Ilya had felt over him, had felt in him.
"I love it when we fight and I like it when you're mean."
He remembers Ilya's hand on his back on stage. The rush he had felt when Ilya proposed a bet, a competition. How much he had wanted to impress Ilya.
"We don't have to get into what that says about me."
He can't afford to be so weak for Ilya. He can't be so easy. So stupid. He puts down his empty beer bottle.
"Oh shut it, I love it I love it I love it I-"
But he'd never say no to more time with Ilya. And was that so bad. Ilya was the only person he could have this with. Was it so wrong to feel so good with Ilya.
"I only love it cuz it's you"
He stumbles up to the karaoke stage as the song ends. He wants to hear it again.