Archive of Our Own

The bar was loud in the way only a sports bar can be after a Boston win; half the room was shouting over the other half, glasses clinking together loudly. Half the the team has taken over a couple of sticky tables near the back. Ilya has shed his jacket, leaning back in a comfortable sprawl as his team talked around him, loud, energetic, and reckless.

Ilya has his drink halfway to his mouth when Connors leans in, already grinning, shooting Sebbin a mischievous look. "So, you gonna tell them, or should I?"

The entire table perks up immediately, even some of the guys at the other table have immediately pulled their focus from each other to Connors.

"Tell us what?" Vic asks, raising an eyebrow. "Because if it's about that thing you did during the second intermission, we already know."

Connors snorts, flipping Vic off with a casual flare. "Not that. This is better. Our rookie here," Connors punctuates his sentence with a clap of his hand on Sebbs' shoulder, "is officially off the market."

There was a beat of silence from the group before a chorus of loud and obnoxious groans can be heard.

"No way," Dubbers shouts. "You? Locked down? That poor girl."

Sebbs rolls his eyes, but can't quite hide the smile. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. It's serious."

"Serious," Cliff leans forward, exaggeratingly sounding out the word, his face scrunched like he didn't like the sound of it. "Like labels and everything?"

Sebbs nods. "Labels."

Vic lets out a low whistle, shaking his head. "That's when everything changes, man. You know that, right?"

Ilya, who has been quiet up to this point, leans forward slightly, curiosity forcing him to engage. "What do you mean, 'changes'?"

Connors grins, clearly delighted by the way this conversation has turned. "Oh, you haven't experienced this yet, have you? Rookie mistake. Before labels, everything's easy. Fun. No expectations. Then you make it official and boom. Whole new rulebook."

Vic points at Connors, nodding his head in agreement. "Exactly. Like, before, she will be totally chill. You could hang out, maybe she would come over whenever, no big deal. Now that you've defined the relationship?" He shakes his head at a frowning Sebbs. "Now there's standards."

"Standards," Dubbers echoes, laughing. "Dangerous things."

Cliff leans in even further than before, lowering his voice like he was sharing insider knowledge. "Let me guess: suddenly she's 'busy' more often?"

Sebbs sighs, slouching slightly in his seat. "Yeah. And if I cancel? It's a whole conversation. Before, it was just 'no worries, see you later.' Now it's 'why are you canceling?'"

Vic nods sagely. "Accountability. Brutal."

Ilya frowns, not quite sure he is following their logic. He thinks back to when he had exchanged 'I love you's with Shane, how calling him his boyfriend for the first time had brought him out of a spiraling panic attack. "Wait. So, before, you were just," Ilya waves his hand around, searching for the words, "seeing each other. And she was more relaxed?"

"Way more," Sebbs nods.

"And now you are officially together," Ilya slowly continues, "and she is less relaxed?"

"Yes," Sebbs says, like it should be obvious.

Ilya blinks, genuinely baffled. "That makes no sense." It doesn't, not to him. Shane is his boyfriend and that comes with rules, but not any crazy ones that Ilya hasn't willingly and knowingly signed up for.

Connors laughs at his confusion, amusement on his face. "Oh, it makes sense. You just haven't experienced the downside of a relationship yet."

"No," Ilya insists, shaking his head. "Explain this to me. You say she liked you enough to become your girlfriend, yes?"

"Yeah," Sebbs replies.

"And now that she is your girlfriend, she is, ah, withholding affection?" Ilya spreads his hands to gesture once more, trying to emphasize his point. "Why? This seems backwards."

Dubbers smirks at him, chuckling. "Because now she knows she's got him."

"Exactly," Cliff nods. "Before, she's trying to keep you interested, right? After you define the relationship? You're already there."

Sebbs groans. "That's not, uh, okay, it's not like she's some mastermind. It's just different now. Like, she expects more."

"Such as?" Ilya asks.

"Time. Effort. Texting back faster. Remembering stuff," Sebbs lists. "She doesn't just let things slide anymore."

Ilya stares at him, glancing at his grinning teammates all around him. "So she behaves like person in a relationship?"

There was a pause and then Connors laughs. "Listen to this guy."

"No, really," Ilya says, leaning forward, incredulity written all over his face. "You are surprised that girlfriend expects more than someone you were casually fucking? This is shocking to you?" Shane expects Ilya to communicate, to be loyal, to be respectful, and it is understood between the two of them that Ilya expects the same. None of that sounds outrageous to Ilya.

Sebbs rubs the back of his neck, facing flushing slightly at the question. "When you put it like that…"

Vic waves a hand, dismissing Ilya's argument. "It's not about being shocked. It's just dealing with the adjustment. You get used to a certain level of freedom."

"Freedom," Ilya repeats, dry. "You mean not being held accountable for your behavior."

"Hey, don't get all philosophical on us," Dubbers snorts, grinning.

Cliff takes a sip of his beer, nudging Ilya with his elbow. "Look, all we're saying is—things get stricter. You can't just do whatever you want anymore."

Ilya tilts his head, shooting Cliff a dry look. "Why would you want to 'do whatever you want' if you care about her?"

That landed a little heavier than the rest of the conversation, several guys shifting awkwardly in their seats. Good, Ilya thinks, genuinely upset. Half of these guys are married and several others have long term girlfriends.

Connors raises his hands, trying to deescalate. "Okay, okay, cap. It's not that deep. We're just saying the perks change."

"Perks," Ilya replies, clearly unimpressed. "You speak about her like she is a contract."

Vic lets out a laugh. "Man, you're killing the vibe."

"I am trying to understand the logic," Ilya replies. "You are complaining that she gives you less affection now, yes?"

"Not less! Just different?" Sebbs says, though his answer leans more towards a question, like he's suddenly uncertain if he's complaining about the right thing.

"But you also say she expects more from you," Ilya continues. "So maybe she is responding to what you give her."

Vic points at him. "Now that's dangerous thinking."

Dubbers chuckles, taking a sip of his own beer before he hums. "Yeah, don't start implying effort is a two-way street. We'll have to rethink everything," he jokes.

Ilya shakes his head, a reluctant smile on his face, but he still feels vaguely offended on their WAG's behalf. "In my experience, when you finally label your relationship, they become more open."

Cliff raises his eyebrow, his head tilting. "Something you want to say about your Montreal Jane, brother?"

The table erupts in laughter, like the idea of Ilya being committed to his Jane is just so hilarious.

Cliff claps him on the back, a condescending smile on his face. "Welcome to being a boyfriend, cap and rook."

Sebbs groans, dragging a hand down his face. "I hate all of you."

Ilya leans away from Cliff, taking a gulp of his drink. "I am happy where I am."

This gets him another round of laughter, even from Sebbs.

"Give it a month," Connors says. "You'll both be bored by then, complaining just as much as we do."

Ilya shakes his head, a small frown forming. "I doubt it. My Jane is perfect, I would prefer she expects something of me. Otherwise, what is the point?"

The others exchanged several looks; some amused, some skeptical.

Vic raises his glass. "To Ilya. Who apparently loves being in a boring relationship with his boring girlfriend." The guys all clink their glasses, cackling and having a good time at the sake of Ilya's relationship.

"And to Sebbs," Dubbers adds, "who is about to learn the hard way that sex gets boring once you've committed to a single girl."

Sebbs flips him off, but he has started to smile at the jokes, accepting a shot glass that Vic puts in front of him, coughing slightly at the burn when he shoots it back.

Ilya feels many things at the very idea of his relationship with Shane being called boring. Do not get Ilya wrong; he loves boring. Boring Shane Hollander with his weak backhand, pretty freckles, and a blush that covers his entire chest when he cries after Ilya makes him cum for a fourth time in one night.

But boring sex life? With his Jane? He settles on being mortally offended and scowls at his laughing teammates.

"Sex with Jane is not boring now that we are dating," he insists, picking up his phone from the sticky club table. He briefly lets himself think about the grimace Shane would make at the state the table is in, but he waves the thought away; he can think of the cute way Shane scrunches his nose at another time.

"Come on, Roz," Vic nudges him, a grin on his face. "We've all gone through it at one point. You tell a sure thing that you're committed to her and then she starts making all these rules about what goes on in the bedroom. You're suddenly a taken man and sex comes with new terms and conditions, just like the rest of the relationship."

Ilya snorts in disbelief at his teammate, glaring at Cliff when he lets out a cackle from next to a grinning Connors. Shane has rules when it comes to sex; folding his clothes, changing the sheets, only letting Ilya fuck him raw and fill him with cum when they're at one of their homes and not in hotels because it makes him feel bad for the hotel staff. Those are rules that Ilya has no problems with.

"Jane is not like this," Ilya insists.

"I had an ex that was like, totally into giving head when we weren't serious, but wanted to stop once I agreed to date her. Like, why would I have agreed in the first place if I knew she wasn't going to continue to suck my dick?" Dubbers exclaims, shaking his head. Both Sebbs and Feller, who has pulled up a chair to join them at their table, hit him over the head at the exact same time, so Ilya elects to ignore him and focus on the real issue.

"Jane likes to suck my dick! I do not know what is wrong with any of your dicks that your women do not want them, but I do not have this problem," Ilya tells them, scoffing at the very idea of Shane not wanting to get on his knees. He looks very good down there—Ilya has told him this many times—and he always gets a beautifully dazed look on his face, like every compliment Ilya pays him drags him further down into a true cock slut headspace.

Ilya loves Shane so much.

"She pretends to want to suck your dick," Carmichael chimes in as he approaches their table, forcing his way in between Feller and Sebbs. "All girls will fake enthusiasm over sucking dick to get their man going."

Ilya stares at him in horror, glancing around at the nodding heads of his team. Боже мой, what are these men doing to their partners that makes them think that? Ilya will not let this stand. This entire conversation is a tragedy that Ilya needs to fix.

"You are telling me," Ilya starts slowly, picking up his previously abandoned glass to swirl the vodka in an appropriately dramatic manner, "that your girlfriends do not enjoy choking on your dicks?" Someone lets out a guffaw, but Ilya continues without pausing. "I once told Jane to suck my cock, and she dropped to her knees so fast I thought she disappeared. She taught herself to take my cock so deep into her throat that she is hoarse next day. She clings to me when I fuck her face, desperate and needy as her spit drips down to meet the mess she makes; because she loves sucking my dick so much she makes mess on floor. Every time. She gets so wet when I force her head down and do not let her breathe for long time. Her mouth drools just like her pussy; very wet and messy. I have let her hump my leg before. Held her down and felt her cum as she muttered pleas around my cock, begging me to fuck her face and cum on her tongue. If girlfriends are needing to pretend to enjoy your dicks, you are doing something wrong."

Ilya's tirade is at first met with silence. Every teammate that came out tonight is staring at him with various levels of shock. Connors' face is bright red, his eyes shiny as he stares at Ilya. Cliff is only now recovering from choking on his own spit when Ilya first mentioned face fucking, and Vic and Carmichael are clinging to each other like they need physical support after his explicit description.

"Jesus Christ, Roz," Dubbers mutters, a breathy tone to his voice.

"She humps your leg," Sebbs says incredulously, like Ilya is a liar. He has very fond memories of Shane choking on his dick, Ilya's fingers hooked into his mouth as he gagged loudly on his boyfriend's thick cock. Shane had been twitching his hips desperately, his pretty cock bobbing helplessly as his humping turned frantic, only to meet empty air. Ilya had been so mesmerized by the sight when he'd let Shane pull off slightly, catching a glimpse of how turned on his boyfriend was, that he'd ordered Shane to hump his leg while Ilya fucked his face. Shane had whimpered loudly, nodding his head rapidly before taking Ilya back into his mouth and moaning around him when Ilya planted a leg firmly between Shane's legs.

Ilya had gone dizzy at the sight and barely managed to last long enough to see Shane cry as he came all over Ilya's leg. He had almost gone cross-eyed.

"When I want her to," Ilya replies, shrugging. "I know how to get her needy enough to do it. Sometimes Jane is angry with me and wants to ride me instead. She is not always up to being aggressor in bedroom, but if I annoy her enough she likes to push me onto her bed and not allow me to touch. She once made me keep my hands by my side while she fingered herself open. She hovered right over my cock too, letting herself brush against it as she moaned above me. She was very wet that day; kept dripping onto my dick. Was very nice night."

It was a fantastic night. Shane had turned red with both anger and arousal when Ilya had teased him a bit too much. Ilya had been very into it from the start, from being denied Shane's soft skin and warm mouth, to being forced to watch as Shane opened himself up, his ass facing Ilya, hovering high enough over Ilya's stomach that he got a front row seat to Shane's puckered entrance as his fingers fucked in and out, body put on display for Ilya's hungry gaze. He remembered lube dripping down onto his chest, wet squelching accompanying Shane's moans. Ilya had been able to restrain himself, if only barely, until he looked further down and finally noticed Shane's weeping cock hanging between his legs, so wet that he was dripping onto Ilya's own straining erection. Ilya was so worked up by the time Shane put Ilya's cock against his entrance that he almost started sobbing. He'd watched sweat settle on Shane's back dimples with blurry eyes, entranced, before he locked his gaze onto the way Shane's hole dragged itself along Ilya's throbbing cock. It had been both a blessing and a curse; reverse cowgirl was hot, but that meant Ilya couldn't watch Shane's face or see his pretty cock while precum oozed down his shaft. Shane had been particularly petty that night, not letting Ilya touch him until he had already cum. Ilya only got his hands on Shane's body for a few thrusts before he succumbed to his own orgasm.

He really, really loves his boyfriend.

"Roz, dude, what the fuck?" Carmichael wheezes out, shifting his grip on a faint-looking Vic.

"She does all that? Even after getting the girlfriend title?" Cliff asks, finally recovering from his coughing fit and speaking up.

"Why would she not? She enjoyed this before commitment, why not after? The idea that Jane would stop squeezing my head with her beautiful thighs when I eat her out or that she would no longer cum hands-free when I fuck her ass is ridiculous."

Throwing Shane's legs over his shoulders and eating his ass out had been another good night. Shane's balls had drawn tight against him, his legs quivering every time Ilya dipped his exploring tongue inside him or nudged his balls just right while nosing them. Shane had nearly squeezed Ilya's head off when he'd popped one of his balls into his mouth and sucked harshly. His cum had ended up all over his heaving stomach and in Ilya's sweaty hair. Once Ilya had breathlessly cum on Shane's spent cock, Shane had gently taken Ilya into his bathroom and helped him wash his hair.

It was very romantic.

"Her ass?" someone from the other table asks, clearly having been listening in this entire time.

"Hands free?" an incredulous response immediately follows from the same direction.

"I did that her first time," Ilya waves the comment away. He is ridiculously proud of his neat trick, of course. It doesn't happen every time, but it's always a special treat to watch Shane fall apart from only Ilya's cock and dirty words.

"You mean your first time together? Had anyone done that to her before?" Feller asks.

"No, well, yes, first time I fuck her, but also I am first man to fuck my Jane," Ilya replies firmly. He was the only man to fuck his Jane, thank you very much.

"You took her virginity?" Cliff chokes out the question.

"I would think you'd go for the more experienced type," Sebbs adds, his words slow to leave his mouth, hesitant even.

"I see pretty girl with freckles. I did not need experience, I needed that ass," Ilya states nonchalantly. "Of course, I also see freckled, pretty Jane at 18 and spend the next several years falling in love with her laugh, and smile, and the way she insists her stupid bird food is good. Also the way she calls me an asshole before kissing my nose and giggling. I have met her parents, and they love me because I love her, but also because they are kind and see something in me that only few people ever took notice of before. Jane is sexy and thinks our sex is not freaky, but she is also thoughtful and sweet and terrible at knowing when someone is flirting with her. I had to jerk off at her to get her to realize I wanted her."

"Jerk off at her?!" Connors yelps, nearly knocking his own beer over when he fumbles with the glass in his hands.

"Not important," Ilya grunts. "Jane and I are in love and she likes my dick very much, so to correct your stupid assumption: sex life is going fantastic now that I am taken man. Go fuck yourself."

Ilya spends the rest of the night nursing his drink and pouting when Shane still hasn't responded to his last text. It's well past one in the morning when Ilya gets a reply, which is a bit odd when he thinks about it. What is Shane doing up so late? If he hadn't responded when Ilya initially texted him after his game, then he wouldn't likely get a response until Shane woke up far too early the next morning.

My Jane: I'm going to kill you.

Ilya frowns.

Ilya: дорогой what did i do? why are you up so late?

Ilya's phone goes off in his hand and he answers it right there in the crowded bar.

"Your conversation was recorded," Shane hisses at him immediately after Ilya picks up the call.

"What conversation?" Ilya asks, dread filling his chest. Had he and Shane talked somewhere in public and been too candid? Were they seen at the airport this summer and it was only now coming out?

"If girlfriends are needing to pretend to enjoy your dicks, you are doing something wrong," Shane growls at Ilya in response, a mocking accent layered over the words.

Ilya's stomach drops. His head whips around trying to see if there is anyone paying particular attention to them, to see if a phone is pointed their way, but the bar is busy with drunk patrons and Ilya isn't exactly sober himself anymore.

"Jane—," Ilya starts carefully, trying not to send himself into a panic. This is bad; this is very bad because for Shane to know about that conversation, someone had to have recorded it and either sent it to Shane or posted it. If it was sent to Shane, they're fucked, and if they posted it, Ilya is fucked because Shane will leave him.

"Do not Jane me right now," Shane snaps. "I can not believe you!"

Ilya winces, ducking his head down with a grimace spread across his face. "I am sorry, котик."

"Leave the bar, right now, Ilya. Go home. Call me when you get there. We are not done talking about this," Shane orders, abruptly ending their phone call.

So Ilya does just that, stares at the call ended screen for a moment, sad and tipsy, and he waves off his teammates when they boo him for leaving. He gets an uber to his home, tripping slightly on the front door when he lets himself in. He's calling Shane the second the door closes.

The call gets rejected.

Before Ilya can spiral, a facetime request comes in. Ilya lets out an audible sigh of relief before he answers. He makes sure to have a sheepish smile on his face, just so Shane can see Ilya knows he's messed up, but that look is wiped from his face when he registers what he's seeing.

Ilya's jaw drops and his dick goes from soft to hard in seconds; it leaves him light-headed, which isn't a great feeling considering how off balance he already is from his drinking. Shane has placed his tripod on the left side of his bed and centered it so Ilya could see him across his mattress. Shane was currently occupied with riding a dildo into it. It's black and familiar; it is not the purple one Ilya had seen in Shane's drawers after he convinced his boyfriend to show it to him. That dildo was smaller than Ilya, which he had been unnecessarily smug about at the time. This one, though, is familiar in the way that Ilya had gone online and bought one of those custom dildo mold kits and used it on his own erection, giving it to Shane and cackling at the face he made when he realized what Ilya had handed him.

Now Shane was moaning loudly, bounding on a replica of Ilya's dick, one hand braced against the headboard and the other tweaking one of his dark nipples.

Ilya's mouth was watering at the sight.

"любимый," Ilya breathes, only barely managing to get the word out.

Shane glances over at him, glare present on his face, before he shifts around so his front is facing the camera. His cock is red, precum oozing out of the tip and creating a shiny trail down his shaft and onto his balls. He's so wet and it leaves Ilya shaking.

"You seem so content to brag about your girlfriend and her wet pussy," Shane says, huffing out a moan when he swivels his hips in just the right way.

Ilya's cock jerks in his pants, utterly shocked at Shane's words, but turned on nonetheless. Ilya had used that word to keep Shane's identity a secret. Shane has just used that word to show Ilya that actions have consequences.

"And you're right," Shane continues, riding the dildo hard, "my pussy is so wet for you, Ilyusha. My ass craves your dick. It's only satisfied when your thick cock fucks it until it's tender and gaping."

Ilya is dying; he feels flushed all over, hot and shaky as he stares unblinking at Shane. Shane's hand leaves his chest and trails slowly down his body, slight red scratches left in his wake. He takes two fingers and rubs them against the head of his cock, pulling them away once he's collected some sticky pre-cum from the tip. He stares directly at Ilya when he puts the fingers in his mouth and moans, head falling back and his hips stuttering, dildo lodged deep inside him. His cock jerks too, leaking enough to replace any of the viscous fluid he had just tasted, plus more.

Ilya stumbles his way into his kitchen, leaning heavily against his counter as Shane continues his torture, utterly unable to say a single word. Ilya instinctively knows he's not supposed to say anything, is only supposed to watch and understand what he did wrong. He can tell he's leaking in his own underwear, a brief glance at a growing wet patch on his pants showing how desperate he is for Shane.

Shane gasps and Ilya's eyes fly back to his screen, locked onto the way his chest is heaving, sweat starting to collect there. Ilya catalogues the way Shane's whimpers are getting higher, the way his legs tremble slightly, and how his balls have drawn closer to his body.

"Ilya," Shane moans loudly, heated eyes staring at him through the screen. "It's a good thing I have this guy here; it means I don't need the one attached to you any time soon."

Shane comes immediately following his words, head thrown back and cock twitching without being touched. Cum drools out of his cock, spurting across his sheets in lines of pearly white. Ilya watches his dick kick once, twice, before he finally stops coming. He gets no time to take in the sight or process what Shane has just said because the other man is leaning forward, bringing his head closer to his phone camera.

"Pay more attention the next time you want to talk about my pussy in public."

Shane ends the facetime call and Ilya is left alone in his dark home.

He takes two shaky breaths, one after the other, before his hand is shoving his pants down and his dick is out. He's so painfully turned on that he knows he's not going to last. Hearing Shane say the word pussy has sent his mind into a dirty, lustful spiral, and he always gets at least a little turned on when Shane gets mean with him. This was a goldmine of mean Shane. He's so close, high pitched whines leaving his throat as he strokes his cock, when his text alert goes off.

He doesn't grab for his phone, barely even checks it, but it's enough to catch the text Shane has just sent him.

My Jane: Boyfriends who talk about their girlfriend's pussies in public don't get to cum.

Ilya takes his hand off his dick like it's on fire. He's gasping for air, red faced and sweaty, cock painfully hard, and so close to shooting cum across his kitchen floor. Ilya grasps the edge of the kitchen island, whimpering sightly when he can't keep his hips from giving a few pathetic humps into the air. His pulse starts to slow and he finally straightens up, eventually grabbing his phone and sending a reply to Shane.

Ilya: yes, милый

My Jane: good boy 💕

Ilya groans out loud, smacking his hand against his forehead in misery, and he forces himself to head towards his bedroom, hard cock still out and bobbing as he shuffles along. He is eventually able to undress and put on some sweats, hard cock flagging into a half chub.

good night, солнышко, Ilya sends before plugging his phone in for the night. He gets no response and doesn't expect one, suspecting Shane had gone to sleep as soon as the call had ended. Ilya mentally runs through his calendar for the next two weeks, an away game against Montreal the end goal.

He doesn't get much sleep that night. He doesn't get much sleep for the rest of the week because the entire team is forced to sit through mandatory social media training, the team's conversation that was posted to twitter the highlight of the 'why you should be careful in public' portion of their mandatory training.

Ilya avoids talking to David and Yuna during this time, mortified at the idea they may have seen the video, and he suffers as Shane sends him sporadic texts; never any words, no, just pictures of his dildo, shiny from lube, and a little smiley face that feels very pointed. Ilya deletes every single picture, because that is what Shane wants even if he doesn't say so, and he suffers.

When Connors mentions his mood and how they knew Jane would try to pull this shit, Ilya almost strangles him. Ilya blames them for his suffering, for their weird opinions on what girlfriends should and should not do, but ultimately, Ilya is actually very happy to be exactly where he is right now: blue balled and a guaranteed earth shattering orgasm the next time he sees his boyfriend.

Ilya is clearly living his best life.