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Are those skin care products? The same ones Shane uses.
Since when did Rozanov care about skin care so much, Shane snorts. He pulled out the moisturiser from the cabinet, and was surprised when he saw that it was full, as if it was brand new. He scrambled through the remaining items in the cabinet just to confirm his suspicion.
Did Rozanov buy it for Shane specifically? Just the way Shane brought hair products for Ilya to use whenever he comes over to Shane's, but neither of them outright mentioned it. Shane decided to return the favour by keeping his mouth shut.
He grabbed the sink with both hands and looked at himself in the mirror. He looked like a wreck. Lips swollen, hair poking out in a hundred different directions, courtesy of Rozanov. He still had that post-intimacy glow, although he was very much sore between his legs.
Shane quickly did his business and moisturised his skin, before Rozanov barges in and finds Shane freaking the fuck out from finding brand new bottles of skincare products.
When Ilya asked him to stay, Shane didn't even bother putting up a fight. He did, in fact, want to stay, maybe just a bit longer. They didn’t do much except make out. A lot.
Shane didn’t know what he was supposed to do when he laid down next to Rozanov. They’ve never done this before, staying after sex. It was always a quick meet-up to fuck, and hoping he would get to see Rozanov sooner rather than later.
Shane was glad when Ilya placed his warm hand on his bare waist, before his anxiety started suffocating his brain. Ilya didn’t pull Shane closer, instead he moved closer to Shane, his fingers dancing against Shane’s lower back and the swell of his derrière, but not going any lower.
They began with soft kisses, Ilya pressing his lips against Shane’s cheek, shoulder, and neck, until Shane grabbed Ilya’s face and connected their lips together. It wasn’t messy like earlier. Shane cupped Ilya’s jaw, rubbing his thumb against Ilya’s cheekbone, swallowing every little noise he elicited from him.
Shane ran his fingers through Ilya’s soft curls, tugging and pulling them as gently as he could. Shane could feel Ilya smiling into the kiss, whispering God knows what in Russian. He badly wished he could understand the goddamn language.
Shane has always had a thing for Rozanov’s hair, even though he has never openly admitted it. His hands always find their way into Ilya’s hair as soon as they’re in a confined space where no one can see them, pulling him as deep into him as possible. Shane adored the way Ilya’s curls felt against his fingertips, the texture, always so silky and luscious, even when he was sweaty. His hair somehow accentuated his facial features further, bringing out the prominence of his cheekbones and sharp eyes.
He realised with a shock that he liked this.
Being soft with Rozanov.
And what sent a jolt through his spine was not just this realisation, but the fact that Rozanov was reciprocating it.
Not once did Ilya try to take control, but he let Shane lead and give in to what he was craving for.
Shane pulled Rozanov on top of him, hoping Ilya’s weight pressing against his body would take his mind off things he shouldn’t be thinking or, even worse, liking.
Ilya pressed a final kiss to Shane’s mouth and lifted himself off Shane, his arms caging either side of Shane’s body.
“You’re thinking too much, Hollander” Rozanov frowned as he searched for any signs of discomfort on Shane’s face.
“What?” Shane huffed out, incredulously.
“You want to stop? You don’t like this?” Rozanov looked at Shane with concern etched across his face.
“No, no,” Shane looked everywhere but at Rozanov.
“Then what is it?” Rozanov’s accent rolled out thicker, clearly showing that he was worried now.
Shane hated it. That he was being the cause of it. Shane didn’t think of anything when he said it out loud, he just wanted Rozanov to stop worrying.
"You have really beautiful curls, Rozanov."
Fuck fuck fuck. He messed up everything, didn’t he?
Rozanov stilled for a whole three seconds before smirking, “Ah, you are jealous of my hair, Hollander? That is why you try to rip them off when I fuck you, yes?”
“Fuck off, Rozanov,” Shane could feel his face heating up. He laughed and smacked Ilya's chest, pushing him off to the side.
Shane silently thanked the heavens when Rozanov turned this into their usual banter.
Ilya smiled at Shane with a suspicious glint in his eyes until Shane averted his gaze from the intensity of Ilya's stare.
"What?" Shane asked as he ducked his face and looked anywhere but Ilya's face.
"You're so beautiful when you blush, Hollander," Ilya said and took the opportunity to plant a soft kiss on Shane's rosy cheek when he turned his face away.
Was it the same man Shane was bouncing on, like his life depended on it, just moments ago?
Was it the same man who fucked into Shane just the way he knew Shane liked it?
When did things get so soft between them?
Shane wasn't complaining, just confused.
Ilya's arm snaked around Shane's waist, pulling his back flat against Ilya's chest.
Shane tried unwinding himself from Ilya's grip, without any real effort.
“Leave me alone, I'm tried.”
“I know, Hollander. Rest,” Ilya kissed Shane's shoulder and snuggled closer into Shane's body heat.
What Shane did and said just a few minutes ago was the closest thing to experiencing what Ilya felt when his mother was still alive. The warmth and gentleness that he never experienced after his mother’s death suddenly came in waves in the form of his rival, and Ilya didn’t know what to do with these emotions. He knew they were bursting at the seams, threatening to spill out when his eyes started prickling.
He let out a deep exhale when he noticed soft, consistent puffs of air coming out of Shane. Ilya has never seen Shane asleep, even after years of being…together?
He tightened his arms around Shane, wanting to hold onto the only person who could fill in the void he felt for ages, even when Shane wasn’t really his person.
He wanted to tuck Shane into his arms for as long as he possibly could, knowing that this would probably never work out even if he pursued Shane for real this time. Not under the mask of simple hook-ups but out of pure longing for something he craved for his whole life.
He took what he could and tried to satisfy himself with it, without asking for more.
What if Shane leaves him too? The way his mother did.
Ilya shook off his thoughts and kissed Shane’s hair, his thoughts ruminating back on Shane’s compliment about his hair. He was glad Shane was asleep so that he wouldn’t notice the way Ilya’s voice cracked when memories of his mother’s golden curls came flooding back.
"I got it from my mother," Ilya whispered it against Shane's nape.