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Shane didn’t know whose idea it was to go for this advert filming, but he was tired of it already. He’d done plenty of adverts in his career — shoes, suits, watches, underwear… even a body wash commercial. His head and torso had been plastered all over the east coast at one point, he hadn’t been able to go anywhere without someone recognising his face or needing to wear the stuff from the partnerships he was getting money from. It had been exhausting, to say the least, and part of him had been glad to see the back of all those commercials and stick to what he enjoyed doing most — playing hockey.
So why wasn’t he playing hockey right now?
Shane wished he had an answer to that. He really did. He really, really did. But he did not. So instead he was stuck on this stupid set doing this stupid ad until they got enough stupid takes—
“You don’t look very happy.”
Ah, yes. And he was doing it with his husband.
“I don’t want to be here,” Shane muttered, which seemed like enough of an answer to that “unasked” question in his opinion. He found the whole thing stupid and exhausting and had thought that beyond a certain time (i.e. them coming out) he wouldn’t need to do any commercials anymore. They both earned more than enough whilst playing. They had a combined income and lived in one place. Yes, they had a dog, but taking care of Anya wasn’t a drain on any of their resources. They were fine. They were comfortable.
They didn’t need to do this.
And yet, they were doing this.
He felt Ilya’s hands on his shoulders, squeezing as though he was trying to give Shane a massage. This didn’t feel like a massage. And even if it was, he didn’t want a massage. Especially not one this terrible. “It is fine. We will finish filming, and then we will go home to Anya and have dinner. Then we will have amazing sex because you are stressed from the day. Simple.”
Shane let out a slow breath, trying to imagine that Ilya’s hands on his shoulders were actually relaxing. It was a bit too much effort to imagine. “I don’t even want to be filming right now,” Shane muttered, closing his eyes and letting out a slow breath. There were many things he would rather be doing right now, one of them being sorting out the clutter in the house that he’d been meaning to get to for the past week. Or training with some of the rookies, getting them up to scratch. Or taking Anya for a walk, cooking, cleaning, even babysitting for Hayden. He would rather be doing anything else right then.
The feel of Ilya’ hands sliding down from his shoulders, down his back, to his waist and then his hips, well. That certainly didn’t help matters.
“Maybe we should be in dressing room, yes?” Ilya’s voice breathed against his ear, and Shane didn’t know when he’d got so close but, god, if that didn’t make heat start pooling in the pit of his stomach. “If we have to stay in the building, then we can relax in the dressing room. I can take away some of your stress.” Ilya’s hands slid to the front of his hips. “I will remind you how it feels to not be stressed—”
“Hey, could we take five?” Shane called out, his voice hitching. His cheeks were reddening, even as the director turned to him. “I just need to… uh…”
He refused to say it out loud.
“We need to take care of business,” Ilya finished for him, and that explanation somehow made Shane’s face even redder.
Business?
The director looked between Shane and Ilya, watching them carefully, before sighing. “Alright, let’s take five!” They paused. “Or, you know, fifteen. However long you guys need to sort things out.”
Shane was face down on the mattress in his dressing trailer before he could say a word.