ssomethingwild



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  1. Public Bookmark 74

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    Shane is desperate, overwhelmed, trying to keep up. Ilya watches unimpressed

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    25 Mar 2026

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  2. Public Bookmark *

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    After a bad game, Shane needs something. Ilya can’t give it to him if he doesn’t use his words. AKA Ilya threatens to whore Shane out to the Raiders.

    The place feels off. Like it’s at an angle. Shane whips his head around. All his stuff looks normal, in its right place, the Montreal backdrop glittering among the reflections of the lamps dotted around the place. He can’t seem to focus on anything. Maybe Rozanov isn’t even here. Maybe he has a second to pull himself togeth–

    Shane’s eyes lock onto Rozanov’s like a bolt slotting into place.

    He’s reclined into the corner of the couch, arm slung over the side, knee falling open onto the seat. Tumbler in hand, something brown he must’ve found in a forgotten cupboard. Looking amused.

    “Well done,” Shane says, and his voice only wobbles a fraction. It should come easy to him. It’s Shane’s brand. But tonight, with him, he’s having to force the words out.

    Rozanov’s eyes crinkle. “Thanks,” he says. Shane doesn’t expect any congratulations, but the absence of the return hangs between them, possibly even louder.

    Yeah. Tonight was a real low for him.

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  3. Public Bookmark *

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    “Actually, uh—“ Shane scratched the back of his neck and dropped his gaze to the floor by Ilya’s chair. “Would you mind if I sucked you off?”

    “Would I mind?” Ilya asked. “No, I would not mind. You want my cock again that badly, Hollander?”

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  4. Public Bookmark *

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    He finds a spot. Above Hollander’s shoulder blade, the knot hard and rigid, like bone. He leans into it slightly, testing. Hollander breathes again, hard.

    “Roz—” Ilya presses his thumb into the knot on Hollander’s back, and the air leaves Hollander’s lungs in one breath.

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  5. Public Bookmark *

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    They could take their time now, the initial frenzy of needing to be as close to each other finally wearing off. They were there, they were alone. Together. It was luxurious, feeling the weeks stretching ahead of them. Shane wondered what Ilya would do to him with all their new free time.

    …He wondered how many packs Ilya would end up smoking.

    “Come,” Ilya told him after he decided he’d denied Shane long enough, fingertips stained in nicotine and Shane’s own saliva. Only then did Ilya finally kiss him, when he could tell Shane was close, smirk on his lips and tasting like fucking cigarettes. Shane came from three things: the permission, Ilya stroking his cock with a grip that veered into too tight, and from the taste of smoke on his tongue.

    Shane remembered that Ilya smoked and so he bought him an ashtray, because he was a good host. Even though it was a disgusting habit that Shane didn’t want anything to do with. Right?

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