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Summary
The worst thing about the hockey team wasn’t their pack mentality and their inability to stay quiet during his careful demonstrations; it was Ilya fucking Rozanov.
Ilya had taken his class twice, failed once, and taken an incomplete for the next time. “Third time’s the charm," that’s what people said, so Shane was going to make sure he passed.
Ilya would walk in, no backpack, just a pencil or pen behind his ear and a can of Coke from the vending machine in the lobby, and slouch into the third row, right in front of Shane’s podium.
His stare was intense, his body language bored, and he never hesitated to interrupt Shane’s carefully prepared lectures to ask questions about his personal life.
Kinktober Day 11: Age Gap
Series
- Part 12 of anon HR fics