Chapter Text
“Rose, I can’t… I can’t go to a…” Shane looked around, voice hushed and cheeks red with thoughts of what his best friend had just insinuated, “a sex party.”
This wasn’t the first time hockey superstar Shane Hollander had a conversation with his glamorous movie star ex-girlfriend Rose Landry in public that should have been behind closed doors. This time, Rose had asked Shane to accompany her to her co-star Miles’ rather lavish and unconventional birthday bash. Apparently, it was also a yearly occurrence and somewhat of a legend amongst her industry contacts.
Shane had come out to Rose during his previous season. Okay, more like she’d yanked open the closet doors and coaxed him out gently. The truth was, Shane hadn’t really had many “gay” experiences in his life. He knew what he was interested in, but he’d always been too scared to admit it. Too scared to truly experiment. Shane Hollander was the top star of the MLH. He was often called one of the greatest hockey players to have ever lived. He was one of the first Asian Canadians at his level. People loved to talk about that. He didn’t need to be the first gay hockey player in the league on top of that. He couldn’t take that attention. He was so scared of getting caught. Getting outed. If Rose had seen it, who else might? So, this debaucherous party, hosted by an openly gay actor, did not seem like a smart or safe idea.
“Shane,” Rose said softly, giving him one of those looks he was used to by now. One that said ‘oh, sweetie’, with a tinge of judgement wrapped in warmth. “Nothing has to happen there. I don’t want to go alone. But… I really want to go.”
“Can’t someone else take you?” Shane mumbled, rubbing his face with his hands.
“These parties are supposed to be insane. Last year I was on set and I felt like I missed the event of the year because everyone has inside jokes after but no one will ever tell you anything! Everyone has to sign an NDA. And it’s a masquerade. There are drinks, performances, and it’s just supposed to be a good time. Miles wants me to invite you this year! You don’t say no to this party, Shane!”
“I’m not sleeping with Miles,” Shane responded, looking at her firmly.
Rose rolled her eyes, “I know! I’m not asking you to. I just want you to let loose a little. Even if that means we add some rum in one of your ginger ales and we just dance. I heard the super secret DJ might be Trixie Mattel.”
“Who?”
“Oh, my poor, sad gayby.” Rose took his hands. If anyone was looking in, they might still think Shane and Rose were together. Rose had agreed to keep up the act with him as long as Shane needed. Shane had assured her that, if she wanted to move on, he wasn’t going to stop her. He truly loved Rose, just not romantically. She was the only person he could be open and honest with. She was Shane’s safety blanket in human form. “Look, you don’t have to go. We can both stay in that night, and I’ll finally show you RuPaul’s Drag Race. I want to see what you think of the season five queens.”
Shane weighed the options, “You really want to go, don’t you?”
Rose nodded, “Like really badly. And if you’re there, you can make sure none of those stupid directors think they have a chance with me. And… if you do decide to wander off with one of Miles’ party favours…”
Shane grimaced, “I won’t.”
“Okay, but if the sky started falling and God forbid Shane Hollander was no longer a saint, I’d be cheering you on,” Rose said with a smug sip of her drink. “Not from like a cuck chair or anything in the corner but like from a respectable distance while you share your location with me.”
Shane took a deep breath. Maybe a party wasn’t the worst idea. A masquerade. Sure, he stood out in a crowd of hockey players, but with Miles’ Hollywood friends, maybe he’d just be another person at the party. There were definitely going to be people there more famous than him. And the NDAs were good. Even if he did nothing… and he was planning on doing absolutely nothing, he would be protected by that. If everyone there had a secret, then it was safer.
“So…” Rose looked at him expectantly after a moment.
Shane moved his head side to side, shaking off the thoughts. “Fine. Fine, I’ll go with you. But only for like an hour. And if it gets weird, I’m out sooner, got it?”
Rose clapped her hands, “Yes! Ah! I love you!” That was definitely louder than intended, as some heads turned in the restaurant. Shane could already read the headlines about Rose professing her love for him, the moment taken wildly out of context. Better than the world knowing what they were truly talking about.
“I’ll have an outfit ready for you,” Rose continued, unphased by the eyes on them. “I’ll see you on Friday at nine.”
“Why does this thing start so late again?” Shane complained.
“Hush,” Rose laughed. “It’ll be fun. Come on. Now, let’s order some fries to share. I’m starving, and now that I’m done this project, I can have whatever I want. Ooh, and I want wings too.” Shane smiled at her and watched her flip through the menu. Maybe he could try this one thing. He could be brave enough if Rose was there. What could possibly go wrong?
A lot could go wrong. That’s what Shane learned forty-five minutes into the party, where he’d already lost Rose in the sea of masked people. The music was too loud. There were too many bodies in this dark room. Half-naked people, Shane was trying not to stare at. Men with their tongues down women’s throats. Men touching other men. Woman grinding on other women. Too many sounds. Too many lights. It was Shane’s nightmare.
This club was on the top floor of a hotel in Montreal. Shane had never heard of it, but he assumed that was part of the allure. It was exclusive. It had lavish booths circling the dance floor and bartenders that made your drink even before you asked. Nothing about the interior felt seedy or dirty, despite the fact that activities undertaken within were the kind that usually stayed behind closed doors. Shane Hollander did not fit in here.
When Shane had been handed a welcome drink, he’d gagged on how strong the taste of alcohol was. He’d drank it to be polite and was regretting it now. He wasn’t sure how he’d become such a lightweight. Then Miles had come over to greet them in his extravagant gold-feathered mask, and hardly anything else on. Shane made sure to keep his eyes trained upwards, trying not to notice the bulge under what could hardly be considered as pleather shorts. He’d made Shane and Rose do a shot with him. It was easier going down than the drink had been. So much for Shane staying sober tonight. Then, Miles had pulled them to the dance floor, and that’s when things started to really go wrong.
Shane didn’t really know how to dance. He always felt awkward trying. He hated not being good at things. People were getting too close and he was drowning in the sea of horny drunk people. A tall, dark, muscular man was dancing beside Shane. Shane could feel the man’s body pushed up against him. He was getting closer. His hands weren’t yet touching Shane, but hovered by his hips as if waiting for an invitation. God, Shane wanted to give him one. He saw Miles give him a wink from behind the mask, and Shane could feel his own pants grow tighter. This was nice. It was warm. His head was swimming. The lights that had been too bright were kind of pretty now and softer in colour, dancing above his head like the northern lights. The song the DJ was playing was better than the one before. It seemed more familiar. He looked over to the man and gave him a half smile before Shane felt that alarm bell ring in his brain. The one that told him he couldn’t be who he wanted in public. Not here. Not in front of all these people. He couldn’t.
Shane pushed his way out of the crowd before he could think. He needed to breathe. Needed air. Fuck. This was too much. He needed Rose, but he’d just left her. And now she was gone somewhere in the swell, and he couldn’t fathom trying to wade his way back through. He needed to breathe. Needed air.
Shane wandered around until he found a door that led to a balcony. There were less people out there. Not many seemed to want to brave the cold Montreal night, but it’s exactly what Shane needed. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself against the panic attack he could feel raging inside his chest. You’re okay, Shane. It’s okay. No one knows.
He took another deep breath, hoping the frigid fresh air would knock him back to his senses and sober him up. Instead, Shane found himself sputtering and coughing as the scent of cigarette smoke found its way inside him. Shane looked over to see a man standing silhouetted against the moonlight, taking lazy drags. The culprit. Shane wanted to give him a piece of his mind. They were hardly ten feet from a door. There was no way smoking was permitted here. Shane opened his mouth to say something, but as the man turned and looked over at him, Shane felt no sound leave his own lips.
The man was beautiful. Blonde curls, softly tussled, swooping down over his simple black mask with silver embroidery. He was dressed in tight black pants, a black blazer, and a silver shirt that looked so silky. Shane wanted to run his fingers over it and test his theory. He was well-built, muscular but not intimidatingly so. Athletic, like players Shane had seen, but also model-like. He wondered if he was one of Miles’ actor friends. Shane couldn’t help but watch the stranger’s lips as they curled into a mischievous smile. Shit. Shane had been staring at him for too long, and the stranger definitely noticed.
“Hi,” The stranger responded, punctuated and short. There was an accent there. Shane was sure he heard it.
“H-hi,” Shane managed to spit out after a moment, finding the word somewhere in his brain.
The stranger moved closer to him, and Shane felt a chill on the back of his own neck. The man walked in a way that made Shane pay attention to every step he took: Sultry and strong, like a dance. Shane swallowed hard.
“Want a drag?” The man asked, holding out his cigarette to Shane. He definitely had an accent. Eastern European. Russian maybe?
Shane shook his head, “Smoking’s bad.” Stupid. Why was that what came out? Fuck, Shane. Really?
The stranger laughed, booming and bright, and Shane felt his cheeks flush. The man took his cigarette and tossed it to the floor, putting it out with the heel of his dress shoe, “It’s okay to be bad, kotenok.”
“What does that mean?” Shane asked, eyes trained on the other man, unable to look away. Normally, he didn’t like eye contact all that much, but he felt hypnotized by the stranger in front of him.
“Kotenok,” the man asked. “Kitten. You look like a scared little cat, ready to run.”
“Fuck off,” Shane breathed out, as if the wind had been knocked out of him. This man was doing something to him, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it. For someone so used to being in control, this felt different. Like he didn’t understand the rules of the game, but this man had mastered them.
“Ah, I could do that,” the man shrugged. “But I don’t think it’s what you want. Or you would not still be here.”
“I wanted some air,” Shane countered.
“Lucky there is lots of that here,” the man motioned around. “Is nice night, isn’t it?”
Shane nodded, though he was getting cold. The man noticed. He took off his blazer and draped it around Shane’s shoulders. Shane wanted to argue, but the man spoke again before he could, ignoring the action he’d just committed, “It’s too loud in there now. Too many people. I needed a break too.
Shane pulled the borrowed blazer around himself a little tighter. It smelled of cologne, spicy but sweet with a hint of cigarette smoke. Usually, Shane would hate that underlying scent but, in the mix, something about it excited him.
“What is your name, kotenok?”
This was a masquerade. He was supposed to be able to stay anonymous here. That was the whole point of coming. Shane hesitated. The stranger took the lead again. He wondered how the other man did it. Like he could read Shane’s mind.
“I’m Ilya,” the stranger, Ilya said smoothly. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me yours. I get it. It’s not that kind of party.”
He wanted to tell Ilya. He needed to tell someone. There was no one else on the balcony anymore. “I’m Shane.” Shane held out his hand, and Ilya looked at it for a moment before shaking it. Ilya had a strong grip, but his hands were soft. Shane couldn’t help but wonder what those hands would feel like trailing down other parts of his body.
“Well, Shane, what are you here for?” Ilya asked after letting go of Shane’s hand.
“My friend,” Shane replied quickly, “she uh wanted to come but didn’t want to go alone. Wanted me to be like her bodyguard. It’s her other friend’s birthday party.”
“Ah,” Ilya nodded, “so where is your friend now?”
Shane looked back towards the door to the party, “I lost her somewhere in there.”
“Not such a good bodyguard.”
“I guess,” Shane shuffled awkwardly, feeling like he was being scolded, though nothing about Ilya’s tone should have made him think that. “She’s with the birthday boy. They were having fun.”
“But you were not,” Ilya observed.
“Not really, no. It’s not really my scene.”
“You don’t like parties?”
“I don’t love crowds,” Shane admitted. “And what’s going on in there is… too much right now.”
Ilya nodded without judgement. Something about him made Shane feel better. Like he understood him. Ilya took his mask off and slipped it into his pocket. Shane got to study Ilya’s face for the first time: his sharp features and ocean-like eyes. After a moment, Shane did the same. The corner of Ilya’s mouth twitched as he did so.
“Pretty,” Ilya said low, under his breath, just loud enough for Shane to catch it. Shane felt himself blush.
“How do you know Miles?” Shane asked after a moment, trying to change the subject.
“I don’t,” Ilya responded honestly, “I am working tonight.”
“Oh, sorry,” Shane said quickly. “I don’t mean to be keeping you.”
“Ah no,” Ilya reached for Shane’s arm to steady him, stop him from taking off. “This is part of my job.”
“Talking to me?” Shane asked.
“Well yes, it can be,” Ilya replied. “I’m hired to keep guests entertained.”
It took a second for the words to click in Shane’s mind. Party favours. That’s how Rose had described it to him the other day. At this party, Miles had hired a service with people specifically there to make sure the guests had a good time. The man in front of Shane was a prostitute or whatever the term he was supposed to use. Shane felt kind of stupid for the way his heart fluttered when the man spoke to him. He was only speaking to Shane because he had to. Because it was part of his job.
“Oh,” Shane said after awhile.
Ilya could sense Shane’s hesitation again. He took another step closer, hand still on Shane’s arm, “This party was boring for me. I did not want to do my job,” he admitted. “So, I was killing time out here smoking. Hoping no one would find me.”
“Sorry,” Shane responded, barely a whisper.
“Let me finish,” The man said gently but firmly. “But then a pretty masked boy came out here to scold me, and I thought, maybe this party isn’t so bad. And I would like to thank this boy for making my night, if he would let me.”
“You don’t have to,” Shane looked off into the skyline. Ilya used his free hand to tip Shane’s chin back towards him, making him meet his eye. Something about the motion and the contact made Shane want to melt.
“I know,” Ilya responded. “I could go back in there and wander the crowd, keep dancing. Wait until someone braver comes up and takes what they want. But it’s not what I want tonight. I think you want the same. Yes?”
“I don’t know,” Shane hesitated, words failing him as Ilya ran a finger under Shane’s chin. “I’ve never… I’ve never done this before.”
“I’m a good teacher,” Ilya said, twinkle in his eye. Shane’s eyes darted around to see if anyone could see them. Ilya took that as his cue. He put his mask back on. “But I don’t think we should have our lesson here. Come with me.”
Ilya dropped his hand, and Shane immediately missed his touch. He was putty in the other man’s hand, and Shane knew it. But he still felt obligated to ask, “Where are we going?”
“I have a room for us, a couple floors down,” Ilya said nonchalantly. “We can go down there. We can talk or try other things. Whatever you want. Then neither of us have to stay here pretending to like this party.”
If Shane was going to do this, it felt like the safe way to try. This other man was hired for this purpose. He was under an NDA. Shane was already tipsy and could feel his inhibitions slipping. As much as he could pretend otherwise, he was very attracted to the man in front of him. And for some reason, he trusted him to take care of him in a way that he had been craving. One night to try something he’d always been too scared to do for himself.
Ilya began to walk away. Shane had to make his decision now. He already knew what it was going to be. Shane quickly pulled out his phone and texted Rose: don’t wait up. Explain later. He looked back up as he put his phone away to find Ilya leaning against the door, waiting for him. Shane took a deep breath. He had said he wasn’t going to do anything tonight. Just like the whole rest of his life, he’d been lying to himself. Shane put his mask back on and hurried to follow Ilya back through the party and out to wherever Ilya was leading him next.
With a soft beeping noise, Ilya unlocked the door to a nondescript hotel room. It was nice. Like ones Shane was so used to staying at when he played his away games. Never even dreaming of setting foot in a room like this for the purposes of tonight. As the pair stepped inside, Shane felt his heart racing. The sound of the door clicking shut behind him was barely audible but deafeningly loud to his ears. Ilya was a few steps ahead of him, Shane behind him, back to the door.
Shane could run now. Leave down the hall, ride the elevator to the lobby, hail a cab, and be home in twenty minutes. And then he could take a long shower and get himself off, feel the shame about it and spiral until the sun came up, and try not to think about the sexy Russian currently staring into his soul ever again. Either way, he knew he’d be thinking about Ilya, and so he might as well get something out of it, right?
“So do you want to,” Shane started, unsure how to handle this, “do we sit and talk… about, you know.”
“We can,” Ilya said, shrugging. He removed his mask again, looking Shane in the eye. “Whatever you want to do. If you want to just talk, we can.” He was so close that Shane could feel the heat radiating off his body. Or maybe Shane was imagining it, as his own face flushed.
Shane swallowed hard, “I don’t…”
“Show me what you want, Shane,” Ilya said, taking a step closer. Shane, in a moment of bravery, Shane tossed his own mask aside and closed the gap between them and brought his mouth to Ilya’s. He froze a second later, realizing what he was doing, leading Ilya to pick up the slack. He felt Ilya’s tongue flick at Shane’s lips, tracing them with the tip, waiting for Shane to grant him access to his mouth. Shane’s eyes fluttered closed, and he let his lips part slightly. Ilya’s hands threaded through Shane’s hair, and Shane surrendered, metling into the kiss as Ilya explored the inside of his mouth with his tongue.
Shane had never enjoyed kissing this much. It had always been a means to the end. Something to please his partners. Shane had never kissed another man like this. Part of his brain felt shame, but it was pushed down by the part of his brain that was skating on bliss. His brain wasn’t the only part of him that was happy. His dick was delighted with the scenario, especially as Rozanov’s knee came up slightly, rubbing against Shane’s arousal. Shane felt a whimpered moan escape from his lips. He pulled back, embarrassed at the sound he made. He’d never made a noise like that.
Ilya caught his chin before he could shy away. He tipped Shane’s head up and peppered kisses on his jawline. Shane reached for Ilya and slid his palms over his chest, feeling his pecs underneath his hands. Ilya was well-built. Shane couldn’t help but think that if someone had built a man in a lab for him, he might have looked something like Ilya.
Ilya pressed Shane against the door, unbuttoning Shane’s shirt with nimble fingers like he’d done it hundreds of times. He probably had, but Shane was trying not to think about the contractual nature of this moment. When Ilya finished unbuttoning his shirt, he slid his hands on top of Shane’s and guided them down towards Ilya’s crotch. Shane could feel Ilya’s own cock straining in his jeans, and Shane suddenly wished there wasn’t a barrier between them.
Ilya pulled back from Shane for a moment, “Is this okay?”
Shane nodded a little too eagerly. Breathlessly, he answered, “Yes. Can I?” Shane’s eyes looked down to where his hands were on Ilya’s fly. Ilya chuckled and nodded.
Shane unzipped Ilya’s fly and reached to free his hard length from his pants. Shane wasn’t exactly sure how to please Ilya, but he knew at that moment that he wanted to. Shane sank to his knees, face to face with Ilya’s dick, peaking out of the elastic line of his briefs.
Ilya looked down at him with a smile as he pulled off his own shirt and freed his cock from his underwear so it was on display to Shane in all of his glory. The first thought that crossed Shane’s mind was that it was beautiful. Shane had never thought of a cock as being beautiful, but here he was. He kind of wanted to kiss it. An alarming urge for him.
“Do you want to?” Ilya asked, looking down at Shane, playing with his hair. “Go ahead, kotenok.”
Shane took the permission and dragged his tongue down the length of Ilya. He’d never done this, but there was something natural about it, as he took Ilya into his mouth. He couldn’t get him as deep as he wanted to. He moved his hands to pull Ilya’s pants and briefs further down, getting even better access.
“Fuck,” he heard Ilya moan, which only encouraged Shane to keep going further. He tasted the salty skin of Ilya and precum. And Shane wanted more. He tried to get Ilya deeper, moving his head, trying to remember how the women he’d been with before did it to him.
Ilya muttered something in Russian before saying, “Look at you.” Shane couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like to Ilya. He was on his knees, servicing him, hoping he was doing a good job. He was growing harder just from having another man’s cock down his throat, pushing against his tongue. Ilya was looking down at him with eyes full of lust. Shane worked licking and sucking, bobbing his head, watching Ilya through his own lashes. Shane let out a little involuntary moan, and Ilya shuddered against him, bracing himself with a gentle hand on Shane’s head.
God, this was a fantasy. Shane had always dreamed about trying this. He’d watched porn and tried to picture he was the man servicing another. He had touched himself wondering what cock tasted like. Wondering how it would feel. It was better than what he’d imagined.
Shane worked for another moment until he felt Ilya softly tap his cheek and Shane pulled off of him, “Stop, Shane.”
Shane immediately became worried that his technique had been wrong or he hadn’t been good enough for Ilya, “I’m sorry. It’s my first time. I can do better. I—”
“No,” Ilya said, guiding Shane to his feet, “it was good, Shane. I didn’t want it to be too much for your first time. I was very close.”
“I wouldn’t have minded,” Shane admitted, blushing.
“It’s your first time, with a man, yes?” Ilya asked. Shane nodded. “You are very good for your first time. I am enjoying this,” Ilya reassured Shane. “Did you like it?”
“Yes,” Shane admitted breathlessly. Ilya rewarded him with a kiss on the lips, then one on the cheek.
Ilya backed up to the bed, pulling Shane along, “Your turn.” He turned around and pushed Shane backwards carefully. Then he helped remove the blazer of Ilya's that Shane was still wearing, Shane’s shirt, shoes, socks, pants and underwear. Now, Shane was naked in front of Ilya, totally exposed. Ilya drank him in with his eyes.
“So pretty,” Ilya cooed. “I am so very lucky tonight.” Ilya removed the rest of his own clothing so Shane could take him in, his erect cock bobbing and glistening with Shane’s spit. Ilya moved his hand, working his own cock, and Shane couldn’t tear his eyes away. Shane had seen plenty of naked men in the showers, but he’d never felt like this before. He was going crazy with lust.
“Would you like me to suck you off, Shane? I’d like to taste you too.”
Shane nodded eagerly, “Yes. Please, Ilya. Yes.” Shane positioned himself on his back, propped up with the pillows on the bed.
“So needy,” Ilya teased. He crawled on the bed towards Shane, kissing up his thighs, “Such a good boy.” Shane whimpered at the praise. Ilya licked Shane’s slit, tasting the precum. “So good, kotenok. Can I keep going?”
“Please, yes, Ilya,” Shane gasped out.
“So polite,” Ilya smiled as he wrapped his lips around Shane’s cock. Ilya took Shane further than Shane had been able to take him. Ilya made quick work of Shane, bobbing his head up and down, getting into a rhythm that made Shane’s heart race and his mind sing with pleasure. Shane gasped and moaned, letting all the tension he kept in his body go. Ilya seemed to be enjoying every sound Shane made, parroting his pleasure.
Shane reached down to run his fingers through Rozanov’s hair. To feel the softness of his curls, under Shane’s fingers. This was heaven. He must be dead. He couldn’t have this on Earth. He got to experience this beautiful man working him with his lips and tongue and mouth and… fuck…
“Ilya,” Shane moaned out too late as he felt his body seize and spurt, cumming fast and hard down Ilya’s throat. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
Ilya pulled off of Shane and swallowed with a smile, “What are you sorry for? That was incredibly sexy, Shane.”
Shane noticed Ilya was still hard, “What about you?”
“What about me?” Ilya asked, voice dripping with sex. “Want to give me a hand?”
Shane nodded eagerly, and Ilya crawled towards Shane, pulling Shane up so they could kiss each other. Ilya’s hands held Shane’s hips as Shane’s hand found its way to Ilya’s cock. Ilya moaned into the kiss, slipping his tongue further inside Shane’s mouth. It didn’t take much longer for Ilya to cum with a whisper of “Shane” on his lips.
Shane looked down at his hand, slick with Ilya, and he did something he never would have imagined himself doing. He stuck two of his own fingers in his mouth, cleaning himself off and tasting Ilya at the same time. Ilya looked at him with awe and amazement.
“You are surprising,” Ilya remarked. “And incredibly sexy, Shane. I can’t believe no other man has seen you like this.” Ilya kissed down Shane’s neck.
As Shane was getting ready for what he hoped would be another round, his phone began to buzz. Ilya hesitated but Shane shrugged it off, “Leave it.” Shane pulled Ilya down onto the bed connecting their mouths again. Unfortunately, the buzzing did not stop.
“Check on it,” Ilya suggested. “Just to tell them you’re busy. Make sure no one is worried about you.”
“Yeah, okay, fine,” Shane said. He got off the bed and found his pants, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Miles had called him four times. Shit.
“Hey,” Shane answered. “Is everything okay?”
“Rose is in the bathroom, puking her guts out,” Miles slurred into the phone. “Can you come look after her? I have a very hung go-go dancer waiting for me.”
“Shit, uh, yeah, I’ve got her,” Shane replied, not wanting to leave yet but knowing he couldn’t stay. “I’ll be there in five.” Shane hung up and sighed. He turned back to Ilya. “I’m sorry. I need to help my friend.”
“Don’t be sorry, Shane,” Ilya said, standing. He took a couple of steps towards Shane, reaching out to brush Shane’s cheek with his hand, “It is obviously important. You are a good person.”
Shane wished he didn’t have to be. He wished he could freeze time and just live in the arms of his Russian man in front of him. This man who was being paid to have sex with him… oh right, “Uh… how much do I owe you?”
Ilya’s expression changed, hardening a little. “Oh, I am paid for tonight by the host. It’s no worries. But… if you’d like to see me again…” Ilya walked over to his own pants and pulled out a sleek black card. There was nothing on it except a phone number in elegant silver letters.
Shane nodded, “Yeah. That would be… nice.”
Ilya picked up Shane’s clothing for him and handed them to the other man. “I hope to see you soon.”
Shane reached into his wallet and put away the card. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to act right now, with the deed done and their transaction ended. Shane pulled out a hundred-dollar bill and handed it to Ilya.
“Shane… You don’t have to,” Ilya said, hesitating to take the money.
“I want to,” Shane said. “Thanks Ilya. This was what I needed tonight.” Ilya took the bill and sat back on the bed, watching as Shane got dressed. When Shane was fully clothed, Ilya motioned for him to come to him one more time, and Ilya gave him a slow goodbye kiss.
Shane snuck out of the hotel room, feeling fluttery. He couldn’t believe that had just happened. He’d sucked a man’s dick and had a man swallow his cum. It was not how Shane had envisioned his night. He should have been upset at Rose for ending it with her party foul, but maybe he was relieved that it had ended before it had gone any further. Not that Shane was against that. Just not totally prepared.
He moved a hand over his wallet, where the card sat now in a pocket. He might end up embarrassed over the fact that he was willing to pay a beautiful man who was professionally nice to him for sex. He’d just debased himself in a hotel room, on his knees for a man who was only there for the money. But Ilya had been soft and caring, even if it had been an act. The situation had seemed safe. He’d managed to get Shane out of his head for a couple of hours. It was discreet. Easy even. He knew other guys on his team that hired prostitutes from time-to-time. He’d always thought it was kind of gross, but now he was eating his own slice of humble pie. Maybe he finally understood the appeal. Maybe it’s what Shane needed to do to make his life work. He could explore who he was while playing hockey and maintaining his image. No one else needed to know. It would be like hiring a personal trainer. Someone to get him out of his head. Something nice for himself. Self-care even.
By the time he got back up to the party, he was already wondering how soon would be too soon to call.