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Ilya wished he cared more about losing out on rookie of the year, he cared, but only as much as he knew that Papa and Alexi wouldn’t let him live it down when he returned to Russia in three days. He was…excited to go back. Well, that was a half truth, he was excited to visit Mama’s grave, see his old friends, have hookups that had the same secret. Sveta was going back for a while with him and he knew that they’d get into the same trouble together that they always did. That excited him. Seeing Papa, dealing with Alexi and his bullshit, that was the reason he was on the rooftop chain smoking with a glass of vodka next to him. It wasn’t even good vodka, they didn’t have good vodka so he settled. He felt like he was always settling at this point.
He pulled out his phone tapping it on the edge of the barrier that kept him from falling off the roof. He could try and find a hookup in the city, surely he had hooked up with someone here before. Sex always took his mind off of things. He was about to scroll through his contacts when the door to the roof was slammed open and someone stumbled through. Ilya was on the edge of drunk but he wasn’t that far gone. He didn’t think. He held his alcohol pretty well, the benefit of starting to drink too young.
“Oh!” The voice of whoever was joining him on the roof said just a touch too loud. Ilya took another drag of his cigarette. “Rozanov,”
Ilya turned, as fucking Scott Hunter joined him at the partition. “Hunter. Is past your bedtime, no?” He taunted, and Hunter just rolled his eyes.
“We were doing shots with all the guys up for rookie of the year but we couldn’t find you. But here you are.” He said, and Ilya squinted at him. He had a hard time believing Hollander would willingly do shots but what did he know. He and Hollander had a moment once and now they avoided each other like the plague. It was for the best, Ilya was in the closet for safety reasons, Hollander was in the closet so deep he highly doubted he knew how to come out.
“And here you are.” Ilya said, sort of confused on why. The party was nowhere near here, and Hunter was drunk enough that he should still be at the party.
“I needed air. Why are you here?” He asked, and Ilya shrugged. Needing air was as good an excuse as any.
“Same.”
“Fresh air would probably be better if you weren’t filling your lungs with that crap.” He said, jerking his chin towards Ilya’s cigarette.
“I am disturbing your fresh air?” Ilya asked, and Scott rolled his eyes.
“If I said yes would you put it out?”
Ilya thought on it for a moment. “What will you give me?”
“Excuse me” Scott said, head jerking back, and Ilya smirked, grabbing his glass taking a small sip.
“I smoke to distract myself. How will you distract me instead?” He asked, and Scott squinted at him.
“Are you flirting with me right now?”
“Am I?” Ilya asked, unsure if he should admit it if Scott genuinely wasn’t picking up on it. After the Hollander debacle he didn’t want to be burned again.
“I can’t tell if I’m drunk and just want you to be.” He admitted, and that was Ilya’s answer. If he wanted Ilya to be then it meant he could admit he was. He fucking knew his gaydar was still right.
***
Fuck. Fucking fuck. Did he just admit he wanted Rozanov to be flirting with him? It felt like he was, hell it felt like half his chirps were flirting with Scott, which he always wrote off because that would mean he could either tell Scott was gay, or he was gay and there had been no way Rozanov was gay with how many women he was pictured taking home.
“What will you do if I am flirting with you?” He asked, and Scott froze.
“Are you fucking with me?” He asked, Rozanov was an asshole sometimes but he didn’t seem like big enough of an asshole to fuck with someone this way. Still Scott had to be sure.
“We have same secret, no?” He asked, and Scott nodded slowly.
“All the women?” He asked, and Rozanov waved a hand as he put his cigarette out.
“I like both. Right now I like you. We are both hot. We are both here. Why not fuck?” He asked, and well. Scott couldn’t fault that logic. There really was no reason to say no, but still. Rozanov gave him a hard time about everything, he couldn’t help but give him a hard time now.
“Are you sure I’m not too old for you,” he taunted, and Roz got closer. Right into Scott’s space, having him taking in a harsh breath.
“They say older you are more experience you have. You will show me if that is true?” He asked, and Scott gulped. He did have some experience, from his hookups in other countries, and the occasional hookup in places where he didn’t think he’d be recognized. He wasn’t sure how experienced Roz could be, so he was willing to bet that he could in fact show him a good time.
“Alright, lets go to my room.” He practically whispered. Rozanov gulped down the rest of his drink and gestured for him to lead the way.
Somehow they managed to get to Scott’s room without tripping down the stairs, or Scott backing out. Or worse, Roz saying he was just fucking with him. Scott is all nerves and anticipation by the time the key card clicks the hotel door open, but he didn’t have time to think for much longer after that because the second the door closed he found his back being pressed against it, Rozanov’s mouth slotting against his own, in a desperate messy kiss.
Not to be outdone, he bites at Roz’s bottom lip, dragging the other man’s shirt out from his belt before getting his hands under it, fingers tracing along his abs, then down the cut of hips. It was almost unfair just how fucking ripped Rozanov was, but whatever, it was Scott’s gain for the night and he was going to take full advantage of it for the night. He couldn’t wait to trace his tongue down the valley of those muscles.
“Fuck Scott.” Rozanov groaned, pulling back, shucking his shirt off before working Scott’s off as well. It was almost jarring to hear his name come out of Rozanov’s mouth, but he found he preferred it to him calling him Hunter in the bedroom. He supposed he should extend the same courtesy and call him Ilya while they were here as well.
As soon as Scott’s shirt was off, Ilya was sinking down to his knees, ripping Scott’s belt open and practically yanking his pants and boxers down below his cock. He pulled a condom out of his own pocket, sliding it onto Scott, following it down with his mouth. Scott wasn’t proud of the sound that came out of him, but well, only Ilya could say he made it and as he had so helpfully pointed out earlier, they had the same secret. So that knowledge would be going nowhere. Roz sucked dick like a fucking champ, tongue tracing along the bottom, throat loose, head bobbing. It seemed like he had no need for air the way he was practically attached to Scott’s cock, and goddamnit he was going to come way too fast wasn’t he. As much as mutual blowjobs would be fine, he would love for this night to end with one of them getting fucked. He hadn’t had full on penetrative sex since the summer.
“Fuck, Ilya, you gotta stop.” He groaned, and Ilya pulled back, sitting on his heels looking up at Scott with a shit eating grin on his face. “I wanna fuck, do you wanna top, or bottom?” Scott asked, and Ilya’s face pinched. For all his confidence Scott couldn’t imagine he had never fucked a man before, but what did he know, maybe he had only ever gone as far as mutual blowjobs. Hell it had taken Scott a while to work up to anything more, and Roz was only what, 19? Maybe he was asking for too much. “Neverm-”
“If I bottom you go slow, yes?” Ilya asked, and Scott nodded slowly.
“Of course I would.” Who the hell had Rozanov been having sex with before that hadn’t let him get adjusted to bottoming? It was a marathon, not a sprint. As much as they were having secret sex, it wasn’t like they were that pressed for time. No one was looking for them, and wouldn’t be until morning.
“I think I will like to try. I have topped before, but never bottom. You will make it good?” He half asked, half demanded and a wave of nerves washed over Scott.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want-”
“I want. I flirt all year. No one ever offers to fuck me. Everyone sees big cock and wants it in them. You are first to offer. I trust you enough. You will fuck me.” He determined, and Scott flushed. So half of those chirps had been flirting. Fucking bold of him, but then again who was going to call him on it? You’d only know if you knew, and even Scott himself had doubted it. Most people just figured it was Ilya being an asshole like always.
“Okay, okay, yeah. I’ll fuck you. Let’s go to the bed.” He said, pulling Ilya up off of his knees. Ilya pulled a packet of lube out of his pocket before kicking his shoes off, and dropping his slacks on top of them onto a pile on the floor. Scott followed suit, their clothes becoming a small pile right in front of the door, the mess there to deal with later. “Lay on your stomach,” he commanded softly, and Rozanov listened, not giving him shit the way he normally did.
He got into position, clearly knowing how to make it easy on himself from his times topping, arms folded in front of him, chest pressed low into the bed, face down ass up. He looked insanely good like this, it was a damn shame to know he hadn’t been being fucked before because god he had an ass made for it, but it was also pleasing that caveman part in Scott’s brain to know he would be the first. He ripped open the packet of lube with his teeth, coating his fingers before placing one hand on Ilya’s ass, spreading his cheeks. “If you don’t like it just tell me, and we’ll stop.” He said, and Roz huffed, but he could hear the underlying nerves there.
“Is fine, just-” he pressed the first finger against the ring of muscle at that, and Ilya’s breath caught on itself. “Fuck.”
“Good?”
“Da.” He swore lightly under his breath. “Yes I mean.”
“Good.” Scott said, before lightly pressing that finger in. Maybe it was because they were drunk, maybe it was because Ilya really did mean it when he said he trusted Scott, but he didn’t tense up too badly, allowing Scott to slip in pretty far right away. He fucked that first finger in and out a couple of times to get Ilya used to the stretch before crooking it slightly to press on that little bump of his prostate.
“Fucking fuck.” Roz swore, body jerking back.
“Another?” Scott asked, trying to hold back his smirk, even though Ilya wasn’t looking at his face. It didn’t feel right to smirk about this, it was Rozanov’s first time, and he had clearly been nervous going in. Scott just wanted to show him a good time.
“Yes.”
Scott slid the first finger out before sliding it back in with the second, this time it wasn’t quite as easy, Ilya tensing up slightly at the stretch. “Okay still?” He checked in, and Ilya nodded. “Words.” He said, and Roz huffed.
“Yes, just.” He let out a slow breath. “Just slow, yes?”
Scott nodded, he could do slow. He had promised Ilya that at the beginning. “Of course Ilya. We can take all the time you need.” He assured, the hand not in Ilya, running up his back in a soothing manner, which seemed to work, because he loosened up that little bit allowing Scott to start to fuck his fingers in and out again. Slowly, like he had promised.
He kept that rhythm for a few minutes, before Ilya was rocking back against them, part of him wanted to ask if he should add the third, a bigger part of him wanted Ilya to ask for it himself.
***
Ilya had no clue what he was doing. He had never bottomed before, and a big part of him had thought he would hate it, but unfortunately for him Scott Hunter knew what he was fucking doing, and he hadn’t even gotten his cock into Ilya yet. Also unfortunately for him, it seemed like he was in no rush to do that. He had been fucking Ilya on two of his fingers for the past several minutes, and no matter how much Ilya was telegraphing with his body that he was ready for a third he wasn’t adding it. He didn’t want to ask. Didn’t want to break down and show that much interest, but fuck, his cock was so hard he was fucking dripping and he wasn’t about to let himself come before he had actually bottomed proper.
“Add another.” He demanded, and Scott huffed out a laugh.
“Hmm?”
“Fucking hell Scott. Put another finger in me.” He said, and Scott laughed again. Ilya was about to take it back, but then Scott did what he asked and all of the air was punched out of his lungs. It felt good, better than he ever thought it would and that was saying something because the men he fucked made it seem pretty fucking amazing.
Scott's fingers honed in on his prostate and Ilya heard a moan coming out of himself too loudly for where they were. He put his head down, biting at his own arm to keep quiet. “Do you think you’re ready?” Scott asked, and Ilya nodded, before remembering Scott’s rule about words.
“Da, yes. Am ready. Fuck me.” Ilya said, breathless, he heard Scott moving around behind him for a few seconds before his fingers were slipping out replaced quickly by the head of his cock. It was bigger than his fingers, but not as big as Ilya’s own. Not anything to scoff at though.
“Just breathe, and remember if you don’t like it just say so.” Scott said, before pressing in slowly. Somehow it made him feel so much more full than his fingers had. He felt like he could feel it in his throat the second Scott had bottomed out, which he knew he had done from feeling but also from the soft, “fuck” Scott had let out, once it had happened. “You feel so fucking good, Ilya.”
“You are not bad yourself.” Ilya shot back, once he felt like he could speak.
“Am I okay to move?” He asked, and Ilya hoped his words rule didn’t apply this time because he just nodded. Luckily Scott seemed to feel that was sufficient because he dragged out slowly, pushing back in just as slow. It was fucking amazing. Somehow it made nerves Ilya didn’t even know he had in him light up with sensation.
One of Scott’s hands, the one covered in lube, found its way stickily to Ilya’s hip, fingers digging in deeply to the muscle there. The other pressed down in the middle of his back, arching it further, somehow making what they were doing feel even better. “Fuck,” the word punched out of Ilya without his permission. Scott dragged his cock slowly out and in again, driving Ilya insane. “Go faster.” He pleaded.
“Are you sure?”
“Fuck, yes am sure.” He said, pressing himself back into Scott. He had been thoroughly prepped, and now all he wanted to do was feel. Wanted to forget what he had waiting for him in a few days, and this was doing better at making that happen than topping would have, but not with how slow Scott was taking it. He knew he had asked Scott to go slow, but they had gone slow long enough. Now he could speed the fuck up.
“Fuck okay.” Scott said, before dragging his hips back, punching them forward quickly. The breath shot out of Ilya’s lungs as if he had taken a hard hit on the ice. Fuck this was what he wanted. And he wanted more of it.
“More.” He huffed out, and luckily Scott didn’t ask questions this time. Simply gave it to him harder and faster. Soon the hand on his back was also gripping his hips as Scott was pounding into him from behind, the headboard hitting the wall from just how hard Scott was giving it to him. Was he going to feel this tomorrow? Almost definitely. Was he going to regret it? No way in fucking hell. This was what he wanted when he was up there chain smoking on the roof. To get out of his own head, and now he was being fucked out of his mind by the hot player from New York he had been half flirting with all season. He knew it was playing with fire, but he had a sense for this sort of thing.
“Fuck, Ilya I’m gonna come.” Scott said, before reaching around to grab Ilya’s cock. Ilya wasn’t proud of it, but the second Scott’s hand touched his dick, he shot off like a bottle rocket. “Fuck, that was so hot.” Scott groaned, before his hips punched into Ilya once more before stilling.
Once Scott pulled out, Ilya felt weirdly…empty. He now understood why aftercare was so important, but almost wanted to reject the idea that he needed any. But the idea of just getting up and going to his own room after all of that felt almost wrong.
Luckily, once Scott had taken care of the condom, he didn’t immediately tell Ilya to get out. Instead came and straddle him where he was sitting on the edge of the bed before kissing him softly. “How are you feeling?” He asked, lips still pressed mostly against Ilya’s.
“Am good.” He said, unwilling to comment on the emptiness.
“Really good, or you’re just saying that because you don’t want to tell me otherwise?” He asked, and Ilya shrugged. “Well. You got my sheets dirty, and I was thinking, if you wanted, we could go another round in the morning. Maybe you could top me this time, or you could test out my blowjob skills. But this of course would mean you let me sleep on your clean sheets tonight and use your shower.” He said, and Ilya grinned.
“Is sacrifice I can make.” He said, and Scott just kissed him again.