The flowers were something that Ilya had never gotten. He had given them to his mother, ones he had picked and brought home with him on his mother's birthday and on Mother's Day. Usually, his father would destroy them because he felt like Ilya was too soft in giving his mother flowers twice a year. After that, Ilya started to give her drawings of them. She would put them into a notebook and write something about them there. When she died, Ilya took that notebook so that his father would never know. He still had it. One of the things that he brought with him when he came to America. He had brought more than a few things with him and made sure that they were safe. The things he would never want to lose because his brother destroyed his things.

It had been a good thing because his room had been stripped of everything in his father's house. It was why he had an apartment now, and there were few who had a key, and those were well paid to make sure that they never gave a key or allowed his brother inside.

There were a few things that Ilya thought as he looked at the flowers that he had been handed when he opened the door. The courier who dropped them off looked bored and wanted his signature.

The biggest thing that Ilya thought was that Marleau was there. They were hanging out before Ilya went to All-Stars, where he had to face Shane Hollander for the first time off the ice after that disastrous day in Boston that had Shane running from him.

"What the hell is that?" Marly asked as he appeared in the doorway from where the living room led to the outside door. "Flowers? They have the wrong address?"

"No, no, they are not." Ilya had double-checked with the courier, and unless there was another Ila Rozanov in the city of Boston who was a Raiders hockey player, which Ilya knew there was not, then these were for him because the card said Raiders Player Ilya Rozanov.

"Who sent you flowers?"

"I do not know," Ilya said. He carried the flowers to the kitchen. The vase was nice, something that he wouldn't mind keeping afterward. It was Raiders colors, which had to be hard to find, or maybe it wasn't in Boston. He pulled the card from the plastic holder and pulled it out of the envelope that it was in.

There was no signature.

For the tuna melt and the good day we were having before I freaked out.

Ilya knew who it was, and no one else ever would. This was from Shane.

"You had a chick that you cooked for?"

"Man," Ilya said.

"Man...you said you would never take them home."

Ilya had told Marly not too long before about liking men as well as women. It had been a low point where Ilya had missed Shane and had been pissed that Shane was dating Rose fucking Landry. He hadn't been happy about a lot of things, and he had been pissed off that Shane had done what he had done. He needed something. Telling Marly made him feel less alone. Sveta knew, but she wasn't always around.

"I lied. I was...with someone, it was casual, and I did things the wrong way. Instead of telling him that I maybe wanted something more, I just changed what we did, and it freaked him out. He likes his routines, and I changed things."

"Montreal Jane?" Marly asked.

"Da," Ilya said. He touched the flowers and found that they were soft and smelled soft. Like Shane liked. Nothing too heavy. Ilya had noticed it a few times when Shane would bury his nose into Ilya's skin; he never did when Ilya smelled of cologne that was too strong.

"You wanna tell me more?"

"I don't know."

"Look, I thought it was a WAG of a player or someone who worked for the Metros already. The timing of a lot of things made sense. Now this, I'm sure it's a player, and I am sure I know which player."

Ilya knew that Marly wasn't stupid. he missed things because he was focused on other things. He wasn't shocked that Marly thought he knew who it was. He doubted that Marly actually knew.

"You went out just after that day where you played like a fucking demon, and you picked up a woman who had features and freckles close to Hollander."

Or maybe Marly did have the right one.

"He would freak out about you knowing. Never chirp him that you know."

"I wouldn't. I know who the fuck he plays with. There are more than a few guys on that fucking team who would full-on hate-crime him for even hinting at liking men. I think half of our team thinks or knows you swing both ways. I've never directly asked, but a few of them have put down bets about things that make me think that they are thinking about men and not women when it comes to certain things."

Ilya had been hiding it less over the last while. He had been too tired for it. He had been thinking of starting the process to get a US citizenship, but he didn't know if he trusted it as much as he would one from Canada when it came to him being Russian and bisexual. Things in the US were a little up in the air. The politics escaped Ilya a little bit, but he kept abreast of things because he was never going to be caught flat-footed on things.

"So Hollander freaked out. You need to talk about it."

"No, but thank you. I changed the terms of who we were, and it freaked him out. I've talked with Sveta, and she pushed a therapist on me. I think that she just wanted to stop hearing about it. Especially when Hollander started to date Rose."

"I heard they broke up, well, actually, Rose's camp said that nothing was ever confirmed, but that they are good friends. You are going to have to see him at All-Stars. I mean, you two will have to deal with each other. Are you ready for that? After these?" Marly waved at the flowers.

Ilya hadn't been looking forward to it at all, but maybe there was something else that was going on, and he would make sure that he wasn't an asshole, at least an asshole that would drive him away. Not talking was an issue, and it was one that he had to figure out how to do; even his therapist was a little worried about it. There were a few small things that he was working on with them as well, beyond actually talking to people. The fear inside of him was that he was like his mother, not in the way of killing himself, but in being depressed. They were talking and working, but the bad days weren't bad enough for help yet beyond talking.

"So, we need to find good outfits, things that will make it hard for him to look away."

"You are going to help me pack? You?" Ilya asked.

"Damn straight I am, or I guess damn queer?"

Ilya laughed, and he shoved Marly toward the bedroom area because this was part of why he liked Marly. The man was good at turning things around. He was good with Ilya's moods.

---

Ilya looked at his outfit. It wasn't what he had flown down to Tampa in because he needed to be comfortable in it. He was used to flying, but he was also used to flying in a different way. Even first-class tickets weren't as good as the seats on the team plane. He had to pack light as well and make sure that his checked bags had all of the stuff that he had to worry about. It was fucking strange to be so worried about what he wore. He wanted to be playful. He liked being playful. It made Shane smile when he was playful. He knew that things were strange at the moment, but he would be willing to talk.

A knock at his door had Ilya frowning. He looked at the time on his phone, and he thought about who that could be. The mixer hadn't started yet, so it wasn't someone pulling him out. He wasn't sure if he should answer or not. It could be a crazy fan. Even those sometimes slipped into events like this. He didn't know what to do. He paused before heading to the door. He prepared to shut the door quickly and was graced with the sight of Shane Hollander, in clothes that were not athletic and actually looked so fucking good.

Shane looked nervous, and it just got worse as Ilya stared at him without letting him inside the room. He looked like he was getting close to bolting away. Finally, Ilya's shock disappeared, and he stepped back to allow Shane into the room. Shane stepped inside, and he shut the door behind him.

"Hi," Shane said.

"You stalking me now? First the flowers and now this? Marly showed me this movie. It's called...Fatal Attraction."

Shane laughed, and it got rid of the last of his nerves, it looked like.

"I wanted to talk where there would be no ears. I heard one of the guys saying you were next to him, and I had seen him going into the room to the left here. It was a fifty-fifty shot on which room was yours. I picked this one, but then I saw another guy come out of the other, and it didn't look like he had hooked up with you. So I guessed that this was your room."

"Hmm, that doesn't help with not stalking me," Ilya said. He itched to touch, and since they were alone, he could. "You here alone?"

Shane nodded. He talked about his parents and then looked down and away from Ilya. "And Rose and I were not compatible."

"Compatible?" Ilya asked.

"I'm gay," Shane said. He finally looked up again and caught Ilya's gaze before looking to the side.

Ilya was used to Shane not holding his eyes. He had thought it was a little weird at first, but when he had asked Sveta about it, in conjunction with a hook-up, he learned that there were those who didn't like that kind of thing, and there was also a type of neurodivergence, which Ilya had to look up that term as well, that didn't like it and shouldn't be forced into it. So Ilya didn't mind when Shane looked just past him when he wasn't in the mood to look into Ilya's eyes.

"Okay," Ilya said.

"I know you are not."

"No, I like both. And you are sure you are gay?"

Shane looked about to rant, but then he stopped himself and deflated a little bit. "Yeah. I'm sure. It was so bad with Rose, and I had just taken a lot of things when I was younger, as I just wasn't interested in that girlfriend that way. That we were better friends than lovers. Then for a while I thought I was asexual."

Ilya knew that term. One of the guy's brothers was asexual, and it was okay with the brother, and Ilya had learned a new term, and while he had done just a little research to be able to not put his foot in his mouth when talking to him. "What changed that?"

Shane looked at him, locked eyes with him, and looked at him like it was all his fault, which Ilya would take that. "Like you don't fucking know."

"Hey, you are the one sharing, I don't want to presume."

Shane got closer and poked Ilya in the side, and Ilya responded by grabbing his hands and pulling him just that little bit closer.

"Then you happened."

"I am irresistible."

Shane snorted, and his gaze slipped to the side. Ilya didn't chase it, but he stayed where they were. He even closed the distance just a little bit, kissing him. Shane kissed him back like he was starving and, well, without Ilya, it seemed that he was starving for something more. Ilya turned the kiss downright filthy, and then Shane pulled out of it. He was panting, but he looked a little like he was about to bolt again, so Ilya just waited him out. He didn't want to push him.

"We need to talk."

"We do," Ilya said.

"But I..." Shane made a noise. He looked at the bed over Ilya's shoulder and then away from it and Ilya altogether. Ilya grinned, and he stepped close enough to where he could brush his thigh over Shane's hard cock.

"How about we talk after? Get out of your head and get a shower before you leave in your pretty suit. Make it harder to run. I give you what you have been aching for." Ilya wasn't sure that it was going to work, but he hoped that it would. He hoped that he could take Shane apart and then pin him to the bed to make him talk. There were times when they got chatty after sex. It was the moment when Ilya had thought that maybe something more was there.

Shane answered by stepping back and out of Ilya's hold, taking his suit jacket off. He moved to hang the jacket up and did the same with the rest of his clothes, leaving them so they wouldn't get wrinkled. He took off his underwear and folded it like he usually did, as well as the undershirt, leaving them on the dresser, which was on the far side. He hesitated with the socks but then took them off as well. Then he turned back around and looked Ilya up and down. Ilya reached to take off his shirt; he wanted to make sure that he didn't miss a moment of Shane stripping for him.

Before Ilya could get it off, Shane was there, on his knees, pulling Ilya out of his pants. He took Ilya into his mouth like he was starving for it. Like it was the only thing that was going to save his life. Shane bobbed a few times, getting it nice and slick, then he grabbed Ilya's hand and put it on his head.

"Fuck, Hollander," Ilya said.

Shane stopped, and he looked up at Ilya again for a few seconds before he pulled off Ilya's cock. "Shane. Shane."

"Fuck, Shane," Ilya said. He knew that they were crossing the line that was never going to be uncrossed. This was it. This was making them something more than Hollander and Rozanov.

"How many times can you come in an hour?"

It took a few seconds for the words to cross his mind; translating from English to Russian in his head was sometimes a little hard when he was hard. Then it took a few seconds for him to remember when Shane had responded to that question in the most Shane way. It made Ilya laugh, and he brought Shane's head back to his cock. "More than enough to satisfy you."

Shane parted his lips on the second bump of the cock on them, and he started out like he needed Ilya's cock to live again. Ilya could only hold on as he was worked, Shane's mouth and his throat being the most perfect place in the world. Ilya loved being inside of him, but he was pretty sure that the inside of his mouth was his favorite. He could look down at Shane to see him losing himself in the act, one of the few times where Shane had truly given himself over to what was happening to him. Not just what the feel of Ilya's cock in his mouth did to him, but him being on his knees for him. It made Ilya feel lightheaded sometimes when he thought about it.

It had been too long since he had gotten someone this good on his cock, so Ilya came in record time, but Shane said nothing as he leaned back on his haunches and wiped his mouth, looking at Ilya like a smug little asshole. He knew that this was just the first round. Shane wanted more, but he felt like he wanted to play now. Shane had gotten his, and now it was Ilya's turn.

"on the bed." Ilya took off his overshirt, and then he worked on stripping himself. He left his shoes next to Shane's. He left his clothes piled in a chair next to the bed because he didn't need to worry about wrinkles on his clothes, unlike Shane.

Shane was on his back on the bed, and he looked like a feast, his legs spread and his hard cock on display. Ilya felt himself getting aroused again. The feeling of lust that was curling his belly was nothing compared to the feeling of love that Ilya was feeling. He knew that he needed to hold off on the words for now. They were just starting up again, and he didn't need to send Shane running into the wind again. He would tell him soon, though.

"You are going to kill me," Ilya said as he got on the bed and got between Shane's legs, letting his soft cock brush over Shane's as he settled in to kiss him. Shane touched, and it was so good. Ilya had supplies for this because he made sure that he would. The flowers had been an overture, and Ilya knew that sex wasn't going to be kept from him. He knew that Shane loved sex as much as he did, or at least sex with Ilya.

"Fuck, Ilya, harder," Shane said when Ilya sucked on his chest, leaving a small mark there when he was done. It was going to make a little bit of fun with the other guys, but it wasn't in a place that would scream that a man had done it to him. They didn't mark each other up too much, and not in places that would be seen on cameras pre or post-game. The mocking in the locker room from a few had been a lot of fun for Ilya. He liked it when he was treated like he was good at this when it was just Shane. When it was just the man he loved in his bed all the time.

Ilya gave Shane more of his weight, making it a little harder for them to rock together as they kissed, but Shane just wrapped his legs around Ilya and held him in place. Shane grabbed Ilya's back, and he held on, his hands slipping a little on Ilya's skin, and Ilya thought about after this, when he could allow Shane to mark him that way. He didn't want it for a game like this with a locker room that wasn't home in Boston.

Ilya felt himself hardening, and he loved it. He kissed down Shane's neck again, and he left hot, wet kisses all over, not marking him but making sure that Shane could feel where he left the kisses.

"Please," Shane said.

"I'll give you what you need, just let me play," Ilya said.

Shane scratched, not hard enough to leave a mark but to make Ilya feel it. Ilya arched into it, and he found that he was more than halfway hard. He sat up and back so he could look down at Shane.

"Condoms and lube are in the drawer." Ilya nodded toward the drawer, and he waited for Shane to get them out.

The lube was new; Ilya had bought it after arriving, as well as the condoms. He had not wanted to go through TSA with a new bottle of lube and a box of condoms when heading to All-Stars. That was like asking someone to take a picture and post it if he got stopped to look at his stuff more. The lube thing had happened once before on a long road trip, and after that, he had just stuck with small packets for when he jerked off before or after games.

"How long has it been?" Ilya asked when he was handed the lube. He looked around for the towel he had used before, and he grabbed it. He held it up and waved it. Shane took it, and he moved around enough to get it under himself so that the bed didn't get messy with what they were doing.

"You know exactly how long it's been."

"Ah, you never came with Rose?"

Shane acted like he was going to shove him down, but Ilya caught his foot and held him in place and stared at him. There was a flush of shame on Shane's face, but Ilya wanted to hear it. There was a part of him that wanted to have Shane tell him how good he was.

"I came, you asshole. I just didn't enjoy it. I had to think about..." Shane looked away.

"You only came when you thought about me fucking you while you were fucking her?" Ilya slicked up two fingers, and he used his free hand to hold Shane's leg up and to the side to get the access he wanted. "She didn't have the parts to make you sing? To make your cock so hard. Going down on her wasn't anything like going down on me, was it?"

Shane shook his head, tipping it back when he was down, when Ilya pushed him inside with two fingers. He knew that there would be a little stretch of it, but it was fine because he was going to be here a while. Shane never needed much prep at all, but he was very much something that Ilya loved to do to him, getting him hard and aching from the playing to where it felt so fucking good when he slipped inside of him.

"I should put you on your knees, fuck you like that, remind you really who is fucking you, hard and so fast that you can't do anything but accept it, but that will come later, after. You can bury your face in the pillow and scream out your pleasure while I just keep on fucking you after orgasm, see if I can get a second one from you."

"Fuck you," Shane said, but he didn't try to move away from where Ilya was fingering him.

He moved to three briefly before moving back to two because it gave him better depth, and he was able to curl them better to keep Shane hard.

"Hmm, I think I'm going to fuck you." Ilya pulled his fingers free, and he laid the condom on Shane's chest and then the lube.

Shane's eyes opened, and he looked at the two objects, and it took him a few seconds to realize what Ilya wanted. He flushed in arousal more with that. Ilya waited for him to sit up enough to get the condom opened. Then Shane was rolling it down his cock, an expert in the act, and then there was the lube, squeezing his cock a little as he did, teasing Ilya's cock like Ilya had been doing his ass.

Then Shanew was lying back and wiping his hand on the corner of the towel. Ilya did the same because he could grip the base just where the condom ended and not get more lube on himself. He was good at that, and his cock wasn't going to do something stupid like not let him get inside of Shane as fast as he could. When Ilya got closer to him, Shane grabbed him behind the neck and leaned up to look, watching the way that Ilya slipped inside of him before he lay back and brought Ilya with him. They were kissing seconds later. Ilya doesn't hold back with his cock or his kisses. He loved this feeling, to have himself wrapped around Shane as much as he could get and kiss him. Shane locked his legs around Ilya to stop him from getting away from him. It felt so fucking good.

They weren't going to last long, not Ilya for his second or Shane for his first orgasm, not with how long they had been apart.

Shane came first, his whole body locking around Ilya, and the way his ass was squeezing Ilya's cock pulled him over the threshold with him. Shane kept himself locked around Ilya so that he could only slump down into his body, allowing Shane to hold him tightly; this was the thing that Ilya had been craving back in Boston the last time they were together. It was fucking good. He loved it. He knew that Shane could hold his weight, so he let the last bit go, and he just lay there on him, their bodies steady and the wetness from Shane's orgasm not taking from the high of Ilya getting what he wanted.

They needed to talk. Ilya knew that, but right now, he wanted this. They could talk later after they went and did everything that they needed to do. Then they would have all night long to do something that could leave them both feeling like shit. There was time to do all of that, but right now, they could stay together like this, cuddling and doing the kind of thing they had never done before.

It was all that Ilya had been wanting, and now he had Shane with him, and he wasn't going to let him go.

The End