8 Works by larold
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The aftermath of Ilya barging his way into Shane's condo, how some things change, but most don't. (But it kinda feels like everything)
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He didn’t think it was possible to make Shane angry enough to hit someone. Sitting on the coffee table now, hands on knees, Ilya watches fists fly and teammates swarm, eventually pulling the two apart. They continue to hurl insults at each other while their skates are being dragged in opposite directions. Ilya sits in shock. What just happened? What the fuck were they talking about?
And why was he so fucking hard?
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An expert in avoidance, Shane latches onto the least important part of his sentence, saying, “You don’t like chess?”
Ilya squeezes his jaw lightly, “I didn’t say that.”
“You called it boring.” Shane prods.
“I call you boring all the time, you think I don’t like you?”
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Ilya finds out Shane speaks Russian, and reacts in a totally calm and rational waySeries
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“Yes, you’d fucking like that wouldn’t yo—,” The blonde cuts himself off, washcloth now discarded somewhere on the floor, hands slide up the length of Shane’s back, and stop to rest at the top of his shoulders. Ilya squeezes lightly before bending down to press a kiss right below the other man’s ear. “What the fuck did you just say?”
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"Oh, and Hollander?" Shane looks up, a hand gently cradling his jaw.
“The next time your cock gets hard, and you are jerking yourself off in hotel room, I want you to remember this," a kiss is pressed to Shane's lips, "and fucking wait for me."
Astonished, Shane huffs a quiet laugh. For years, their hookups consisted of weeks, sometimes months of foreplay, in the form of on-ice chirps, stolen glances, and many, many text messages. It always ended the same way too, with reciprocated orgasms in hotel rooms and the whisper of a promised, ‘see you next time’.
Ilya, who seems content with Shane’s lack of answer, gives him one last kiss, and leaves for his own hotel with a fervent, "see you in two weeks, Hollander."
This was not a promise. This felt like an order.
Shane needs a shower
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Except Shane just sighs, hanging his head shyly and rubs the back of his neck, “I…I didn’t mean to leave that out, you got here early last night, surprised me so I just threw it down there, god, this is uh, not how I imagined you would find out.”
“Find out what?” Ilya breathes.
“That I’ve been learning Russian since the first time I sucked you dick.” It’s unusually brave of Hollander, and Ilya can’t help feeling that the normal roles they play have been severely flipped.
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Caught reading a trashy Russian romance novel, Shane and Ilya behave exactly as expected (they fuck about it) -
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Jiwoo is new. Sooyoung is...not. Jiwoo thinks Sooyoung is perfect. Sooyoung thinks Jiwoo is young. Jiwoo might be falling in love with Sooyoung. Sooyoung is definitely, certainly, without a doubt, not.
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It had been about a year since Juliet O’Hara figured out Shawn Spencer was not a psychic. And about a year that she thought she knew everything there was to know about him. His deepest, darkest secret. But she was dead wrong. Nowhere near close.
Takes place in season 9 of Supernatural and Season 8 of Psych.
(it's only rated M because it cusses a bit and I hint at some sex, mostly between Dean and Cas, and I don't go into detail. A'though,I may change that. I probably won't but there is always a chance)
Series
- Part 1 of Carry On My Wayward Psychic