This wouldn't leave me alone. So, of course I had to put it out there. It's a grown people kind of scene. Sorry not sorry.
Any damn way, 😂 please enjoy, "Happiest Place On Earth."
Shane tossed a half dozen apologies behind him as he raced to his locker. The team was just filing out to the rink, with JJ holding the door and asking if it was the end of days because Capitaine was never late.
“Hollander!” his coach called from the hallway. “You better be in that box warming up in ten minutes!”
“Yes, coach!” he called back, stripping down to his underwear with a speed that was admirable.
“Not to pile on, but you didn’t give us our pep talk and you have like no time to warm up now,” Hayden chimed in, checking the tape on his stick.
He yanked on his long, protective socks, shooting daggers at his friend.
“That’s fucking helpful, Hayd. Thanks,” he said, wincing a little as he shifted on the bench.
“I’m just saying, you’re fucking with my carefully set pre-game ritual, Cap.”
He'd been fucking with a lot of things. Specifically, two rounds of fucking with Ilya an hour before their game. Probably hadn’t been the smartest move. But, it had been glorious. The fact that they’d had so little time had heightened everything to insane levels. He rubbed his heating face. Ilya hadn’t even pulled out after the first time. He’d just stayed inside Shane, semi-hard and kissing like a demon until they both got fully hard again. Then they did more … stuff. Delicious, mind-blowing stuff that had left him no time to shower. He’d wiped his chest and stomach as best as he could and ran after Ilya finally let him go. It had taken a half dozen kisses with a soft hand around his throat before Ilya let him leave, dazed and walking on air. He could still feel that hand.
He stood and turned to grab his athletic cup only to be startled by Hayden’s loudly exclaimed question.
“Tell me you didn’t tip that Uber piece of shit?!”
Hayden pointed his stick at him. “I’m talking about your Uber driver and the wet seat he didn’t warn you about.”
He slowly reached back to touch the sensible, gray cotton boxer briefs covering his butt. More specifically, the area where his cheeks met. It was damp. No. It was wet. A sticky kind of wetness. He didn’t know if it was denial, shock or a stroke that had him frozen. He was leaking. Oh, this was no time to be shy. He was leaking Ilya ‘I need you again’ Rozanov.
“The seats were dark, yeah?” Hayden asked, smoothing more grip tape on his hockey stick. “That’s the only way you wouldn’t notice that shit. We used to do that to each other in high school. Called it swamp ass. I hated that prank.” Hayden caught his frozen state. “Bud, you okay?”
He had two milliseconds before this nightmare became a horrific reality.
“Uh, yeah. I thought my pants had dried when I moved to the other seat. Guess they didn’t.”
“You look like you dipped your ass in Moraine Lake. Tell me you didn’t tip him.”
His heart had to be beating visibly, such was his panic.
“No!” he shouted, making Hayden flinch. “Sorry, I’m, I’m pissed. But, no I didn’t tip him.”
Hayden hooked his stick behind his neck and rested his arms over it.
“Good, but you should tank his rating. Get dressed and gimme your phone. I’ll do it for you. I know you hate being the bad cop.”
“No!” he shouted again, unsure if he’d deleted his latest messages with ‘Lily.’
Hayden’s eyes popped. “C’mon, Boy Scout. He didn’t even give you a courtesy spin dry. He did you dirty and put you up wet. Let me tank his ratings to hell.”
A hysterical giggle bubbled out of him. Not a good sign. It meant he was furious.
“I’ll do it,” he said, feeling like he was going crazy. This could have gone so wrong. “I need to change my skivvies and finish getting dressed. Go warm up. I’m right behind you.”
Hayden stood and pouted. “You know I love my righteous one star reviews. But, fine. Hurry up though, the Bears are gonna be out there soon and I’m not dealing with Rozanov alone.”
He smiled through the white heat of his anger.
“Oh don’t worry. I got something special for Rozanov tonight.”
Hayden’s answering grin was wolfish.
“That’s the fire I’m looking for! Pep talk done.” His best, but clueless, friend kicked the door open. “Out the way replicants, I’m coming in hot!”
As soon as the door closed, he yanked off his Ilya soaked underwear and got dressed fast. He texted Ilya once he was suited up.
Jane: You’re dead, do you hear me?
Lily: You killed me twice in an hour. That goes without saying.
Jane: You gave me no time to shower. I was, and you better fucking say nothing, I was LEAKING. Hayden saw.
Ilya’s typing bubbles started and stopped spastically. A decisive texter of few words, he knew Ilya wasn’t struggling to find the right way to say something. That meant one thing. Ilya was laughing too hard to keep typing.
Jane: If you’re laughing, I will never speak to you again.
Lily: You are terrible liar. And to answer your question, I am giggling quietly, so it doesn’t count.
A smile threatened the corners of his mouth. He wasn’t going to be charmed by Ilya’s impish bullshit.
Jane: That could have gone so badly if Hayden didn’t assume I sat in a wet seat. It’s not funny.
Lily: You were in no danger. He is not the brightest.
Jane: Hi, sorry. Am I bothering you with the fact that my best friend almost found out that I was dripping from a place I shouldn’t be dripping from??
Lily: Shouldn’t? You wound me. You would drip 24/7 if I had it my way.
He repeatedly tapped his phone on his forehead, reminding himself that this was Ilya’s way of being romantic. It was kind of adorable.
Jane: You’ve lost privileges with that part of me. See if I’m playing around.
Jane: I am perfectly calm in my decision making. You don’t get to finish in there EVER again, let alone twice.
Lily: A ‘sorry’ won’t fix this, will it?
Jane: Oh, look who stopped laughing.
Jane: You don’t. I fix when I beat your ass on the ice.
Lily: Care to make wager on that?
He stood and yanked on his helmet before answering.
Jane: Sure. I win, you don’t finish in there for a month.
Lily: Have you suffered head injury? You must be concussed to say something so insane.
Jane: You heard me. A MONTH.
Lily: Fine. I win and you come to condo from now on. No more hotels or unfinished murder buildings. My condo, my bed.
He couldn’t fight the smile tugging at his mouth.
Jane: Deal. Now get your ass out on the ice so I can whip it.
Lily: My handprint is on your left ass cheek. I whip first.
He barked a laugh, deleted their exchanges and hurried to the rink. The crowd was boisterous and rude, just the way he liked it when he was amped. He did a fast warm-up in the box and finished just in time to meet Ilya at center ice with the ref. They bent over, sticks ready.
“A month is cruel and unusual punishment,” Ilya said, fighting a smile. “I think it’s against Geneva Convention.”
He smirked. “Then do something about it.”
The puck dropped. After a battle for possession, he skated away with it, calling over his shoulder.
The slick sounds were his favorite.
On his knees, Shane rocked into the headboard, driven by Ilya’s demanding thrusts. The quiet of Ilya's bedroom was broken only by their grunts and the slippery wet sound of him being fucked.
“Fuck you Hollander, this shouldn’t be so good,” Ilya groaned hotly in his ear before yanking his hips back a bit and sliding him back and forth on his cock. “You stay where I put you. Right there, moy malen'kiy sukkub*.”
He couldn’t move if he wanted to because he was coming harder than he ever had in his life. Ilya pistoned into him, hand blurring on his cock, before stilling. The heated bloom made him groan. It always did. There was nothing hotter.
They collapsed into a sweaty tangle, breathing hard.
“H-how many goals did you score again?” he gasped.
“Four. New personal record.” Ilya wiped his hand on a nearby towel and grabbed a fresh one from the nightstand. “New team record too.”
Shane grinned. “You’re like an addict who nearly had his fix taken away. I was mostly teasing about banning you for a month.”
Ilya sat up, dragged him over onto his stomach then kissed the back of his head. Without being asked, Ilya began gently cleaning up the mess he made.
“I could not take chance. I do what is necessary to keep happiest place on earth open.”
He chuckled into a pillow.
“It was kinda hot seeing you be an unstoppable force.”
Ilya finished up and lay facing him.
“You liked seeing me fight for you. Admit Hollander.”
“Definitely. Is okay. I am sexiest when winning.”
He wouldn't admit it to a soul, but it was true. A triumphant Ilya was the hottest thing he'd ever seen.
Ilya crawled over him, kissing his way up his back.
“I have to tell something, but you need to be relaxed about it,” Ilya murmured.
He was thoroughly blissed out. Relaxed was a guarantee.
“Okay. Tell,” he murmured as Ilya left a trail of kisses across his shoulders.
“I buy XL shirts and pants.”
“I am so glad you warned me. I might’ve freaked out over this news.” He jerked when Ilya nipped the back of his neck. “Wait. You’re at least a double XL. Probably triple XL, right?”
“Yes. I am big. You still like?”
He turned over and Ilya settled his 6’3” frame onto him. He was definitely triple XL.
“Yes, I still like,” he murmured, running soft fingers up and down Ilya’s naked back. “You know I love how big you are. Wait. Why’d you buy XL shirts and pants?”
Ilya didn’t blush, but his ears deepened in color along with the rims of his nostrils.
“You agree to come here whenever we play in Boston, das?”
He smiled up at him and ran his fingers over Ilya’s naked flanks.
“Das. Four goals to my three. You won fair and square.”
“Yes, this was never in question,” Ilya said and laughed when Shane pinched his side. “But, since I defeat you easy, and you agreed to come here when in Boston for games, I buy XL shirts and pants.”
His hands stopped moving. The world stopped moving. Ilya bought him clothes. To keep at his place. For him. He blinked. Then he blinked again. It took Ilya bringing his face close for him to snap out of it.
“You log off,” Ilya said worriedly.
“Go off line,” he corrected, still blinking.
“Whatever. Can you sign back in and stop panic attack? Your eyes are like hummingbirds.”
He squeezed his eyes shut and whispered, “You bought me clothes to keep here?”
“Hollander. This is convenience thing. If you had change of clothes and a chance to shower, your close call with Hayden wouldn't have happened. I’m sorry I didn’t give you either. Won’t happen again, okay?”
If he wasn’t trapped under Ilya’s weight, he’d float straight up to the ceiling. This man could be so sweet.
“I don’t know what to say,” he murmured, eyes still closed and face starting to heat.
“Say, ‘Thank you, Sir. Can I worship your dick for an hour?”
His eyes popped open. His heart, increasingly acting of its own accord, beat like it was trying to escape.
“Thank you is all you’re getting.”
Ilya kissed him softly. “It will have to do.”
Later, when he was very reluctantly leaving in his new clothes, Ilya buttoned his coat up to the neck and jammed a beanie on him.
“See you in Montreal in a few weeks?” he asked unnecessarily. As captains of their respective teams, they were both intimately aware of their playing schedules.
“Three weeks. Try not to miss me too much. It’s gross how happy you are to see me sometimes.”
He rolled his eyes. “Maybe I won’t miss you at all.”
Ilya pulled him in by his scarf and nuzzled his cheek.
“You take too far. I was trying to avoid grunge.”
“Grunge?” He chuckled against Ilya’s face. “Do you mean cringe?”
“Both are dirty feelings. Do as told. Miss me a little, das?” Ilya instructed, giving him a soft kiss.
“Fine. I’ll miss you a little.”
“Are you sure? With you being over-achiever, I know you sometimes go too far. We can’t have you pining so hard it impacts game. You must go on, even when I am not there. So, miss a little.”
“I promise the missing will be little.” This monstrous lie sat ugly and untrue in his heart. It was going to kill him to wait three weeks to see Ilya again. It was getting harder to say goodbye every time they did this.
Ilya kissed him once more then let him go. A fleeting look that was equal parts frustration and longing passed over Ilya’s face.
“Safe trip home,” Ilya said softly.
“You too,” he said nonsensically, floating out the door. Ilya laughed and waved before closing the door.
He flew back to Montreal, so lost in his thoughts, Hayden asked if he was getting a cold. Apparently, his eyes were super shiny and his color was high. If he could tell Hayden what was wrong, what would he say? I promised my situationship to only miss him a little when he was assuredly going to miss him massively?
They touched down and he didn’t think to take his phone off airplane mode until he was wheeling his bag to the car-pickup lane. He waded through at least a dozen texts from his mother, not sorry he missed them. In the back of his Uber, he finally saw Ilya’s buried text. He was grateful he was alone because he whispered ‘oh my god, he’s going to be the death of me’ and pressed his hot forehead against the cold window. Ilya’s text was short, but seismic.
Lily: It will not be a little for me. It will be a lot.
