Chapter Text
IR:
Go to bed, Pike. It's late
Hayden read the message again. Still the same. He blinked, looked up and then back down. And nope, still there.
IR:
You have a roadie ahead. Would have spanked you hours ago and put you straight to bed after. Dangerous if you play unconcentrated
Shane agrees with me
The thing was, that was not the only kind of message he had like this. No, every time he did something stupid and was filmed and it landed on the internet, or if Rozanov was there in person, he got a message just like this.
From Rozanov personally of all people. Just his luck, right? Being at the epicentre of Rozanov's attention. So bloody great, you wouldn't believe it.
And the thing was that he never thought of being particularly kinky, but… The thought of having those big hands on him—slapping his ass cheeks—did things to him.
So unspeakable things. And it kept happening again and again. It drove him crazy. Rozanov was texting him, Shane was texting him and suddenly there was a fucking group chat with the three of them. And it still didn't stop there. No, he was now constantly subjected to messages. Inquiring about his whereabouts, how he was and what he did over the day.
Just now they had been messaging and he just… Forgot time. Screw him, it fucking happened to everyone, alright? They had fucking answered him, so it felt more than a bit hypocritical of them. He could argue just as well that they had kept him up and it was therefore their fault for keeping him up. Not his.
But this fucking last two messages kept staring back at him. Hayden felt the tip of his ears become quite hot and he bet he was also red all over.
Bloody hell; there it was: Spanking.
Innocent letters spelling such a… Such a… Word.
With Shane agreeing with it. What the fuck did that even mean?
It left him hot all over and, as mentioned before, it was most definitely not the first message of this kind. He bristled just thinking about the others.
Hayden would have never thought that this was a kink of his. But with Rozanov and these texts bringing Hayden's focus on his fucking beautiful hands… Imagining how they would feel if they— It was unfair. One time he even whined about it to Shane before realising to whom he was whining and stopped dead of embarrassment. Mortified he couldn't hang up fast enough and then proceeded to pace his condo; all while his brain didn't stop with the pictures. Of Shane and Rozanov; both beautiful and so damn sexy. It was so vivid in his mind. Because he had been there and watched it unfold in front of him —or with him in the middle.
He wouldn't be in this dilemma if it wasn't for The Thing™. The Thing™ had started during an off season over a year ago. The hockey world had just started to calm the fuck down from the knowledge of their two best players being an item (a deeply committed one at that) and Hayden had mostly come to terms with his best friend dating Ilya fucking Rozanov.
Which led to him visiting Shane (and Rozanov too… because they now lived together). And this was followed by Shane (of all people) going out with Hayden and him (Hayden) getting shit-faced drunk during that night. Then Hayden continued this in all his wisdom by confessing his most deeply buried secrets that he didn't even remember admitting to himself before.
So, the very next morning, when he woke up in the guest bed in the Hollander-Rozanov household, he had been faced with a shit-eating grin of one Ilya Rozanov and the rest was history. Somehow, instead of Shane being appalled by his drunk confession, he had tattled to Rozanov that very night. And this resulted in Hayden being sat down by two of the most beautiful men on earth and for a second time in as many days, Hayden Pike had come out as bisexual.
A bisexual who was deeply attracted to Shane—because, have you looked at this man?—and could admit that Rozanov was… pleasing to the eyes. Still an arrogant arsehole but… A nice one? Did that make any sense at all?
Anyway.
This should have been the end of it. But no, of course not. Because Hayden clearly loved to suffer.
No, instead of telling him to fuck the hell off, they asked him if he wanted to act on his attraction.
How the ever loving hell could he have resisted? Have you looked at them? Fuck, they were gorgeous as fuck.
And they had an intense sex life and somehow Hayden ended up being invited to it. The sex was fantastic. Second to none in his entire life and perhaps he learned a few things about himself as well. Like that he enjoyed being tossed around, if you got the gist. Like it was nice not to think and just enjoy the bliss of it all. But also making them work for it? Amazing. Just. Fucking. Amazing. Seeing the heat in those eyes. Living this push and pull and feeling this rush, even though everyone involved knew how it would end.
Rozanov was bloody amazing and had the stamina of a god. Shane as well. And Hayden just had to go with the flow. Be where they wanted him to be and just listen when they asked him to do something. It was pure filth. Delicious filth.
The only downside was that there was an expiry date attached to it. Hayden would leave eventually. Be it just after having sex together or after waking up the next time. Or, finally, when he would leave for the last time. He. Always. Left. He left and Shane and Rozanov stayed behind. Because they were together. Actually together. Like in loving each other and living together. Together-together. And Hayden? He was the nice thing to spice their sex life up.
And that was alright. It was. It really was.
He groaned and hid his face in his pillow, willing his heart to slow down.
They did everything he could have dreamed of and more. They were soft when asked, mean when begged. They read every wish from his eyes. Shane did this really amazing thing with his tongue when sucking him off and Rozanov could fuck so. Bloody. Amazing. Hayden totally got why Shane was addicted to getting dicked down so often.
…But emotionally they were unavailable for him.
Then the group chat happened the last time he had been with them and had whined about not wanting to drive back. It had been late, he had been sleepy but there was a game the next day. Shane and Rozanov had been clearly reluctant to let him drive like this, Rozanov even started to argue with him about safety—from him of all people—and Shane had backed him up on it.
Rozanov had somehow sneakily pickpocketed his phone and added the group chat. Hayden had only seen it when the other turned his phone, showing it to him. It was called after them SHI. Rozanov had grinned, with some deep cocky quality to it, when explaining that the Russian I was pronounced like an English E, and that therefore SHI became she when spoken out loud. Then he had went on about thinking that Shane would appreciate it. Shane had blushed prettily and then leaned in to kiss Rozanov. (All while mumbling about Lily and Jane and oh fuck... Hayden didn't need this picture. No, thank you, sir.)
Hayden had averted his gaze and hated how much in love they looked. While he was… just Hayden to them.
Then they proceeded by funnelling way too much energy drinks into him and demanded that he text once he reached Montreal while looking all serious at him.
It was so fucking confusing.
Peeking at his phone, he saw another message.
IR:
We can see you are still online. Sleep, Pike
SH:
Sleep well!
He groaned and then turned around and bundled himself up in his blanket.
What the actual fuck was he doing?
He really should go and find a fuck buddy somewhere else. Some handsome boy or pretty girl who wouldn't mind terribly to be a bit… bossy with him. Hayden could at least admit to himself that The Thing™ had shown him that he liked being on the more… Dare he say submissive? Oh, fuck it. Yes, okay. Here it is: He liked to be on the more submissive side of things. Definitely making them work for it but at the end of the day, he liked being put down and fucked or being ridden with the other determining the pace.
Fuck. Just thinking of it got him all hot and bothered. Even his cock stirred in interest.
Another quiet ding informed him of yet another message and made him look back at the screen.
IR:
Seriously, Pike. Lights out and close your eyes. No more being online now
Or I really have to spank naughty arse when we see you next time
Fuck! Damn. Lord almighty.
What did he do in his last life to deserve this? Being in a bloody situationship—because what else would The Thing™ be?—with his best friend and his best friend's partner. Texting—sexting—them, having sex while trying to convince himself that no, he had no feelings for them. That he didn't feel lonely when he was in his condo at night and had to read… this.
Weeks ago he couldn't take it anymore. He had felt so pent up that he had, on a whim, made a fake profile on Tinder and met up with the first person he matched. So, he had actually tried looking for an ONS. The first had been a man. Big and muscular. Hayden had been nervous as fuck about being found out but he hadn't seemed to know who Hayden Pike was. So, he hadn't connected one Mike with, or even being, Hayden Pike. Hayden had been glad for it. And with this reassurance it should have been good. The guy had been attentive but all Hayden could see and hear was Rozanov's mean but well-meant mocking and Shane's gentle but firm probing.
The guy hadn't grabbed his arse like he needed him to and his skin had itched with the sheer wrongness of it all. He felt bereft of... something.
Needless to say, he hadn't met him again. The next woman had also not worked out for him and after the next failed try too, he deleted the account. And he got more desperate with every passing day. Even more so when another message about Rozanov spanking him came through. So desperate that he finally caved and asked the internet. Yes, he was aware that that was not always the safest bet, but what could he have done. Talking to them? Dear Lord almighty, no.
He went to an online forum to ask people what he could do on his own about it. It was... enlightening in more than one way. Some suggestions where so absurd and far-fetched, he didn't even bother thinking about them more after reading them. Other's on the other hand couldn't hurt (oh the bloody irony) to try, right?
So, in a last-ditch attempt at what one commenter advised him to do, he even had tried self-spanking. He had swallowed all his pride, squeezed his eyes shut and just went with it. And this fucking hurt so much he stopped after like two slaps. That had not been how he had imagined it when thinking about Rozanov's hands. Then he tried burn cream. This was... an experience. One that he didn’t want to repeat alone ever again.
In short: Nothing helped and the itch was still there.
He could cry just thinking about it.
Instead he took his phone and answered.
HP:
@IR Always big on promises but no follow-through so far, dickhead
@IR SOO sorry for not taking it at face value
Anyway, roadie and game tomorrow, will sleep now