Chapter Text
Shane’s phone buzzed from where it sat face down on his desk. It was a Friday night so it realistically could be anyone texting him. But the majority of his friends lived in the frat house with him, and he’d already talked to Rose about her evening plans earlier that day when they’d gotten coffee on campus together.
So, he knew who it was before he even picked up his phone. Didn’t stop him from smiling as soon as he saw the name, though.
Ilya: you finally coming tonight?
Ilya: and yes, that is double entendre
Shane rolled his eyes. Ilya had been hounding him for the last two weeks to come to one of his frat’s parties. But the start of the fall semester meant it was Rush season, which meant Shane had duties to his own frat. He was Mu Lambda’s newly minted President and couldn’t exactly skip out on Rush events just so that he could get laid. No matter how much he’d missed Rozanov’s dick over the summer, he had principles, dammit.
Shane: Maybe.
He said it mainly just to fuck with Ilya. He actually did intend to go to Rozanov’s. They had a dinner planned at the Mu Lambda house that night for their new pledges but it would definitely be over in time for Shane to go to Ilya’s party after.
Ilya: :(
Ilya: you did not come last weekend either
Ilya: or weekend before :((
Shane: Awww, miss me?
Ilya: miss that mouth mostly
Shane: I’m sure there will be plenty of other willing mouths at your party tonight.
Ilya: yes but none as pretty as yours
Shane fought back a blush. Ilya was well aware of what calling Shane “pretty” did to him. Not that he needed to butter Shane up or anything. It was kind of embarrassing, actually, how little work Ilya had to do to coax Shane into his bed. Shane had kind of hoped that having space from Ilya during the summer would have created some distance between them, but if anything, it only made his thing for Rozanov worse.
Coming into the new semester, Shane told himself he’d try to put some distance between himself and Rozanov. He knew it was only a matter of time before things blew up in his face and he was left hurt from the fallout, while Ilya moved along and on to the next one. It was why he’d initially been relieved to have the excuse to stay away for the first two weekends of the semester. He thought it would help clear his head, but if anything, it had backfired, making Shane want Ilya more.
He was sure that Ilya hadn’t even really missed him at either of the previous parties. He’d most likely found someone else to warm his bed. Shane not showing up probably hardly registered as an afterthought by the end of the night.
Shane, on the other hand, wasn’t exactly hooking up with anyone else. Maybe he could, if he really tried. But he’d yet to find someone he was attracted to in the same way he was attracted to Ilya. Which meant he hadn’t had sex since the last time he’d slept with Ilya at the end of the previous spring semester. So, sue him. Ilya Rozanov was Shane’s weakness and, frankly, a huge problem, but at least he got incredible sex out of it.
Shane: We have a pledge dinner tonight, but I’ll come after.
Ilya: bring overnight bag
Ilya: i plan to keep you up all night ;)
Shane: I’ll let you know later when I’m headed over.
Shane locked his phone, leaving it at that. He was frankly kind of shocked that Ilya hadn’t grown bored of him yet. It was part of the reason Shane kept him at arm’s length. When they’d started hooking up the previous semester, Shane had made very strict rules for himself.
He would only meet up with Ilya at night. Weekends only and only once per week. If they hooked up Friday night, he never allowed himself to go back to Ilya’s or invite him over on the subsequent Saturday night. Even the times Ilya had practically begged for Shane to come over, he’d stayed strong. His final rule was no spending the night, ever.
He’d broken that rule one time and one time only. It did, unfortunately, just so happen to be the last time they’d slept together, right before they’d left to go home for the summer. Shane to Ottawa and Ilya all the way back to Moscow. Shane had been preparing to gather his clothes and walk home that night when, for the first time, Ilya had asked him to stay. It was something he’d never asked for before. Shane told himself that it was merely the shock of the request that made him say “okay” and get back in bed.
Most of that night had been them just...hanging out. Cuddling. Talking. Ilya opened up to Shane about how much he hated going back to Moscow during the summers. He’d told Shane about his asshole brother and his demanding, critical father who was slowly losing his memory. How the reason he was getting a degree in International Relations was so that he could work for the Russian Embassy in Canada and, hopefully, one day get Canadian citizenship.
Breaking that rule one single time had been disastrous for Shane’s feelings. The more he learned about Ilya, the more he liked him. The more he saw him for who he truly was under his brash veneer. Behind closed doors, Ilya was always very caring with Shane and a very reciprocal lover.
Shane had already been in dangerous territory before that night. He didn’t need to know how it felt to wake up with Rozanov warm at his back. What it was like to borrow a new, spare toothbrush from under his sink so that he could brush his teeth before they had slow morning sex. He definitely didn’t need the memory of Ilya grinning at him from across the frat house’s kitchen while he made Shane breakfast afterward.
None of that took away from the fact that Ilya was a notorious playboy on campus. That Ilya had probably done that with countless other partners. No matter how special those moments had felt to Shane, Shane was sure he was just another hookup in Ilya’s rotation.
He didn’t even have the heart to be upset with Ilya about it. Shane had gone into this knowing exactly what he was getting into and with whom. It wasn’t Ilya’s fault that Shane was clearly terrible at casual sex. This was Shane’s issue to deal with, not Ilya’s.
Which was why he certainly wasn’t going to bring an overnight bag tonight because he definitely was not making the mistake of sleeping over again. If he stuck to his rules, he could minimize the damage to his heart. There were times he wished Ilya would grow bored of him and either tell Shane he had no interest in seeing him again or just straight up ghost him. That way, he could move on and maybe meet some nice guy who actually wanted to be his boyfriend instead.
The first time he met Ilya Rozanov, Shane was wearing an ugly Christmas sweater. Because of course he was.
It had been the year before, at the end of the fall semester, just before finals. Earlier that night, he’d accompanied Rose to her sorority’s holiday date party, something he did every so often when she was single and didn’t want to bother finding a date. He never minded being her plus one, even if he wasn't a huge party guy. Jackie was also in her sorority, which meant that Hayden was at every date function as well. It was a good excuse to hang out with his friends and eat free catering.
Jackie and Hayden were that cliche couple who’d met in the dorms, got drunk and made out at a party, and had been together ever since. Shane had been there to witness it all. Thankfully, Jackie’s roommate was almost always sleeping over at her upperclassman boyfriend’s apartment, so he didn’t have to deal with being sexiled by the two of them all that often.
They’d tried setting him up with Rose at the start of freshman year, which had quickly led Shane to realize he was gay. Even if he and Rose weren’t compatible that way, he’d gained a best friend out of the whole ordeal, and he’d be forever grateful for that.
Since it was their last soiree before the winter break, it had been holiday themed, and the guys had been encouraged to wear ugly Christmas sweaters. Hayden had dragged him thrifting earlier in the week and had been thrilled to find a sweater that said Jingle My Bells, thinking it was the most hilarious thing he’d ever seen. Shane, thankfully, could only find a mildly ugly sweater that was a gaudy mix of patterns and clashing Christmas colors.
These types of parties were typically on-the-books, meaning they were a little more buttoned up, supervised, and always over by eleven. Normally, Shane would make sure Rose got to her next destination safely before heading home himself so that he could get to bed at a reasonable hour. But tonight he’d been swayed, maybe because he was feeling the holiday spirit, or maybe because he was slightly tipsy - a pretty rare occurrence.
Svetlana had wanted to go to Omicron Chi after the function wrapped, which meant that Rose wanted to go to Omicron Chi, which meant that Shane was somehow also dragged to Omicron Chi. And look, it wasn’t unheard of for guys from different fraternities to go to another frat’s party, but it just wasn’t something Shane did that often. Or, ever, really.
He liked his frat. He definitely wasn’t a stereotypical frat bro - the number one reason being that he was gay - but his father was a Mu Lambda legacy, which meant that they’d sought him out to join pretty incessantly. Added to the fact that Hayden, who’d been his freshman roommate, was also rushing, he’d mostly done it for his dad and because he knew that fraternities could offer great networking opportunities in the future.
So he’d never really been to another fraternity’s party. He obviously preferred his own frat’s parties, and seeing as he lived in the Mu Lambda house, he didn't really have an excuse to skip them. He definitely enjoyed parties more when they were full of his friends and people he knew, and in an environment that he was comfortable in. It was an added bonus that he could always just retreat upstairs to his room when he was over being amongst the chaos.
He didn’t know all that much about Omicron Chi, and he didn’t think he knew any of the brothers. Some frats were more stereotypical with the “who do you know here” bullshit to other guys being at their parties than others. Svetlana was apparently tight with the Social Chair and promised he wouldn’t care if Shane tagged along.
“In fact,” she said cryptically, “I think he’ll thank me for bringing you.”
Shane had no idea what that meant. But he had two hard kombuchas in his system and kind of wanted to let loose before finals started, so he’d called one of Mu Lambda’s DD’s to come pick the three of them up and take them to the O Chi house.
He should’ve had the foresight to change, he really did look ridiculous, but hindsight was twenty-twenty. So now he was at a random frat house where he knew all of two people in the dumbest sweater known to man. Well, second dumbest. Hayden’s Jingle My Bells sweater definitely took first place.
There was no one watching the door, so they simply waltzed right in to the house. Svetlana and Rose quickly paused to say hi to two of the brothers, introducing Shane as well.
“Shane, this is Wyatt and Zane,” Rose said. “Guys, this is my friend Shane. He’s in Mu Lambda.”
“You can call me Bood,” Zane said. “Everyone else does.”
“Cool. Hi, guys,” Shane said awkwardly.
“Do you know where Ilya is?” Svetlana asked.
“Last I saw, he was trying to stop a couple of random freshmen from sneaking upstairs,” Wyatt said. “You know him, he’ll be back around shortly.”
“Hmm, well, I’ll look for him while we get drinks. If you see him, tell him I’m here. Shane, you want anything?” Svetlana asked.
“Uh, just a beer is fine,” he replied. He didn’t really need or want more alcohol in his system, but it would at least give him something to do with his hands.
The girls pushed through the throng of people toward the kitchen, leaving Shane alone with two dudes he didn’t know, making small talk. Shane’s nightmare. Bood and Wyatt were thankfully really nice guys and carried most of the conversation, asking Shane about Mu Lambda and, in turn, telling Shane about their own frat. They weren’t too deep into the conversation when it was interrupted by someone new.
“Who the fuck is this guy?” a deep, accented voice asked.
A deep, accented voice that was attached to probably the most beautiful man Shane had ever seen, with tousled, golden curls pushed effortlessly back from his handsome face and piercing eyes. He had a set of very pink, full lips that softened his otherwise masculine features ever so slightly, and he was tall with broad shoulders and biceps that Shane could see the outline of even through his dark sweater.
Their campus was pretty big, but Greek life made it seem smaller, so Shane had seen him around on occasion at Panhellenic events. He was a hard man to miss. Ilya was loud and cocky and funny and beautiful. And also had a bit of a reputation, so Shane had definitely heard of him before, even though they’d never really met.
Ilya’s tone wasn’t malicious. It was more bordering on amused curiosity. He was looking Shane up and down, and Shane briefly wondered if he was checking him out, then immediately backtracked. He looked like an idiot. There was no way the hottest guy on campus was checking him out.
Not sure what else to do in the situation, Shane extended a hand.
“Oh, hey,” he said. “I’m Shane Hollander.”
Ilya took Shane’s hand, looking very entertained by all of this.
“Ilya Rozanov,” he replied.
Shane just barely stopped himself from saying something stupid like “I know.” Thankfully, Rose and Svetlana chose that very moment to come back with their drinks. Rose handed him a beer. Shane opened it, taking a long sip.
“Oh! Great, you guys have met,” Svetlana said. “This is Rose’s friend that I was telling you about, Ilya. And you’ve met Rose.”
Ilya murmured something to Svetlana, presumably in Russian, from what Shane could gather, which made her laugh. She said something back, which had Rozanov rolling his eyes before eyeing Shane up and down again. The other guys had slipped off at this point, leaving just the four of them standing there.
“Hi, Ilya,” Rose said, unbothered by whatever exchange had just happened. “Shane, come dance with me, they’re actually playing good music tonight.”
Normally, Shane would have protested or found an excuse to tell her no, but right now he’d do just about anything to get out from under Ilya Rozanov’s perceptive gaze. So he let Rose lead him through the party and down into the basement, which was where the dance floor was typically located at these things.
Shane did his best to try to keep up with Rose as she moved to the beat, singing along to some song with heavy bass that Shane certainly didn’t know. He was relieved when Svetlana joined them, even more relieved that Ilya was nowhere to be seen, because it meant he could take a step back and sway awkwardly while the girls did their thing. Shane tried to stick it out for as long as possible, sipping on his now lukewarm beer and trying his best to have fun.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, maybe forty-five minutes, judging by the number of songs that had been played, but Shane was thoroughly overheated and needed a break. He let Rose know he was going to get some air and made his way back upstairs.
Overwhelmed by the party and the night in general, Shane escaped to the back deck of the house. Luck was very much not on his side tonight as the only other person outside was none other than Ilya Rozanov, perched against the wooden railing and smoking a cigarette. It was kind of annoying how hot it made him look.
It was fucking freezing out, but the cold, fresh air was the perfect reprieve from the stuffy heat of the party. Shane crossed his arms over his chest, bracing against the Quebec early winter chill and more than happy to stand there in mutual silence with Rozanov. But he could feel the other man’s gaze on him, like a burning brand. When he looked over, his suspicions were confirmed. Ilya was staring at him, blatantly and unabashedly.
“Listen, I know the sweater is ugly, but it’s rude to stare,” Shane said peevishly. He was overstimulated and wanted to go home, the last thing he needed was some dickhead staring at him.
Ilya took a long drag of his cigarette, eyes still not leaving Shane.
“Maybe staring is not bad thing,” Ilya said. “Maybe I stare because you are very pretty.”
Shane floundered before he could form real words. “Well. That’s stupid.”
“The staring? Or you being very pretty?”
“Wha - I don’t know, both?” Shane stammered.
And there was that stupid fucking smile again. Like Shane was the most fascinating thing Ilya had ever seen. Again, it wasn’t malicious, more like Shane was some sort of very intriguing puzzle he was trying to solve.
“So, what is with that sweater?” Ilya asked him. “You just have bad taste?”
“Fuck you,” Shane huffed. “I mean, I don’t really have that great of a fashion sense normally, but I only wore it for Rose’s date party. The guys all wore ugly sweaters.”
“Ah. Rose is your girlfriend?” Ilya asked casually.
“What? No. I just go to her date parties sometimes when she just wants to go with a friend. I mean, she’s really great, but I’m gay. ”
“Are you?” Ilya asked, raking his eyes over Shane.
“Is that a problem?” Shane asked, straightening his spine.
Rozanov’s tone was more genuine curiosity than accusatory or disgusted, but Shane honestly could never be sure how other people would react, especially other frat guys. It had taken him a while to get here, to stand up taller when his sexuality was in question instead of shrinking into himself as he’d once done.
Ilya shook his head. “Thirty percent of this frat is not straight. I am bisexual. You are good here.”
Shane had heard that Ilya Rozanov occasionally hooked up with guys, but hearing him openly and casually admit that he was bi wasn’t something Shane was expecting.
“Oh. Um, thanks.”
“Am just saying, would make me hypocrite if it was an issue, no?” He asked, raising a brow.
Shane was pretty sure he was the only gay guy in his own fraternity, at least openly. So the idea of a frat full of other queer people was kind of alien to him. He was a little envious if he was being honest. He’d been out for a little over a year now and didn’t really have any close friends who were also gay.
It looked like Ilya was about to say something else when Shane’s phone buzzed. Rozanov inclined his head in a silent go ahead for Shane to check his phone. Not that he needed Ilya’s permission.
“Oh. Rose is looking for me. I think she wants to leave,” Shane said.
Ilya’s face was indiscernible. “Right.”
“Okay. Uh, anyway. Have a good night,” Shane said, wondering if he sounded as lame as he felt.
Ilya didn’t reply. Just took another pull from his cigarette, still staring at Shane. Feeling like a bug under a microscope, Shane made a hasty retreat into the house.
Shane thought that would be the last he’d see of Ilya Rozanov, other than perhaps in passing. If he’d spent an embarrassing amount of his winter break fantasizing about him, that was no one’s business but his own. Even if the rumors that Ilya occasionally hooked up with guys were true, Shane didn’t exactly think he was Rozanov’s type.
So he was a little shocked to say the least when someone sat directly next to him on the first day of his spring semester Psych 101 class - his last remaining gen ed - in a medium-sized lecture hall with plenty of open seats. He was left fully speechless when that someone was none other than Ilya Rozanov, who simply gave Shane an infuriating, amused smile at his very obvious surprise.
Shane contemplated getting up and moving elsewhere, but he had a feeling that would only egg Rozanov on more. So he stood his ground and remained firmly in his seat.
He’d honestly expected Rozanov to be a total nuisance in class. And he sort of was, at least for the first few minutes before the lecture started. But as soon as the professor took her spot at the front of the hall, he immediately focused in and was actually a good student. Shane had a lot of respect for him, he was sure English, being Ilya’s second language, made big lectures like this difficult. He had to work twice as hard to absorb the same information as Shane did.
It was a fairly short class, an hour long every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, but without fail, Ilya sat next to him every day. In the brief time before class started, Ilya would pester Shane, asking him about his weekend every Monday. It was met with almost always the same response - a sing-songed “booooring” before Ilya would tell Shane a funny anecdote from whatever party O Chi had thrown. About three weeks in, Ilya started inviting Shane to said parties, which Shane always wrote off as Ilya just fucking with him. He was boring. There was no way Ilya seriously wanted Shane to show up.
Shane’s academic nightmare came just before midterms - a partnered project. There was a quiet chorus of groans through the auditorium after the announcement, so it seemed like Shane wasn’t alone in his annoyance. They had to choose from a list of topics the class had covered during the semester that would be on the midterm exam. The professor gave them the last ten minutes of class to partner up, letting them know to email her by the end of the day with their partner and their planned subject matter.
“Give me your phone,” Ilya said, beside him, holding his hand out to Shane.
“What?”
“We will be partners, obviously,” He said, gesturing between them before making a gimme motion with his hand.
“Oh, yeah. Sure,” Shane said, digging in his pocket, unlocking his phone, and giving it over to Ilya.
It wasn’t like Shane knew anyone else in the class, and walking up to a random person and asking them to partner up was way too far out of Shane’s comfort zone to even consider. Besides, he knew that Ilya was dedicated and would work hard if his attitude in class was anything to go off of. Picking anyone else was a gamble. Better the devil he knew.
“There,” Ilya said, handing his phone back. “Now we can set up time to meet.”
“Okay. Cool. Any preference on what topic we choose?” Shane asked.
“You pick if you want,” Ilya shrugged. “I am okay with whatever.”
“Hmm. Maybe the Cluster B personality disorders? They’re interesting, and we’d have plenty to talk about.”
“Okay with me,” Ilya agreed.
They scheduled their first meeting for the following Wednesday evening. Neither of them had class or prior commitments, and Shane was able to book them a study room easily so they could be tucked away from the rest of the library.
He’d been correct in his assumption that Ilya would be a good partner. He never had to remind Ilya of deadlines, and he always showed up on time to their agreed meeting location. They also worked surprisingly well together. Shane could be a little neurotic when it came to how certain things were done, and Ilya seemed more than happy to let him take the lead.
“I know I can be particular,” Shane had said at the end of their first meet-up. “I’m sorry if it comes off bossy.”
“Is fine,” Ilya shrugged. “I like bossy.”
Which had made Shane blush, bringing a triumphant smile to Ilya’s face. Even if Ilya was taking things seriously, unrestricted one-on-one time also meant that he had more opportunities than ever to flirt with Shane. Which he did. Incessantly.
Most of Ilya’s flirting was really just him trying to irritate Shane while Shane snipped back and pretended he didn’t secretly like it. He was weirdly bummed as their project came to a close. He’d enjoyed the sporadic hours he’d spent with Ilya outside of class. He was actually annoyingly likable, and Shane felt an ease around him that was typically reserved for his few close friends.
They met the evening before their presentation day to go through the powerpoint and double-check all their sources and information before they submitted. It was the first time they’d met on a Thursday because Shane had an evening class that ran until 6:30. Shane had asked if they could make it quick so he could grab dinner from the nicer dining hall on campus before it closed at 8.
Ilya showed up with a to-go container in hand, giving it to Shane without a word. It was chicken parm night at the dining hall, one of Shane’s favorites, and the food was still hot. Shane could have kissed Ilya right then and there.
“So we don’t have to rush,” Ilya shrugged. “And because you are sassy when hungry.”
Shane was too touched by the gesture to be annoyed at Ilya’s quip, and he dug in almost immediately as Ilya pulled up their project. They looked it over together, making sure they’d hit all the marks on the project outline their professor had given them.
“I can do the brunt of the talking if you want,” Shane offered, clicking through the slides one last time. He didn’t love public speaking but he could be good at it, when he tried.
“Not saying that you know you can’t, but I know English can be hard even when it’s just conversational so I can only imagine how tough some of these scientific words can be,” Shane offered, face heating.
He didn’t want Ilya to think that Shane didn’t think he was capable, he was just trying to give him an out.
“I appreciate that,” Ilya said softly. “Thank you, Hollander.”
They divvied the slides up, giving Ilya the less verbose ones, and were able to get out of the library at a decent hour. Their presentation the next day went off without a hitch and Shane breathed a sigh of relief when they took their seats again, thankful it was all over.
“We make good team,” Ilya said, later as they packed up after class.
“We do,” Shane agreed, warmly.
Ilya looked at him consideringly for a moment. “Come to my party tonight.”
“You’re still on that?”
“To celebrate,” Ilya shrugged. “We definitely got a good grade. Is almost midterms. Let loose a little, Shane.”
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t really ‘let loose,’” Shane said.
“You? No!” Ilya replied with a faux gasp.
“Shut up,” Shane said, laughing softly. He paused for a moment. It would be nice to see Ilya outside of class. Even if it meant he had to go to some other frat’s party to do so.
“Come,” Ilya said again. “It will be fun. Even more fun for me if you are there.”
“I’ll think about it,” Shane said.
Shane did end up going to the Omicron Chi party that night. It was the first, and far from the last, time he ended his night in Ilya Rozanov’s bed.
Part of him knew, when he showed up, that it was where things were headed. He wished he’d had the excuse of being drunk or even tipsy to fall back on, but he’d had maybe half of beer the entire night before he was being led up the stairs by an equally sober Ilya.
What he hadn’t been expecting was how gentle Ilya had been with him. He’d admitted to Ilya that he’d never done much more than hand jobs and blowjobs with another guy (what he did not admit was that even those sexual experiences were very few and far between), and Ilya had been very chill about it, letting Shane know they didn’t have to do anything more than he was comfortable with.
Shane had appreciated that, but he did want Ilya to fuck him, and he’d told him as much. Ilya was more than happy to oblige.
Ilya checked in on him the whole time, making sure he was okay, ensuring that Shane felt good. And Shane did feel good. So good in fact that he came without Ilya even touching his dick, which was new for him and also kind of embarrassing at first. But then Ilya had groaned, “Oh fuck, so hot Hollander,” before coming very shortly after him.
After they cleaned themselves up, Shane left. He knew what this was, he knew who Ilya was, and he wasn’t going to embarrass himself by overstaying his welcome or acting like a cliche, clingy virgin. Ilya hadn’t asked him to stay, only watched him carefully as he told him to get home safe.
He’d hoped that once would be enough to quell his curiosity surrounding Rozanov. That having sex with him would scratch that itch, and he’d be able to move on. He should’ve known that it would have done the very opposite of that. He kind of wished the sex had been mediocre, or at least just slightly less mind-blowing. He wished he’d never seen that side of Ilya - the gentle, caring lover. Because now that he knew he couldn’t get enough. Nothing and no one else would compare.
Especially considering the rest of his sexual encounters had ranged from lackluster to total disasters, sex with Ilya was a revelation to Shane. He’d never realized sex could be that fun. They’d laughed together, and it had all just been so…easy. Shane had never experienced that before, and now Ilya (and having sex with Ilya) was all he could think about.
He’d expected class to be awkward the next Monday, but strangely enough, it wasn’t. Ilya had come in and sat right next to Shane like he’d done all semester.
“Have good weekend?” He asked, cocky grin on his face.
“Sure. I mean, it was nothing special,” Shane quipped back.
That got a small, secretive grin out of Rozanov, one that Shane returned. The rest of the week went by in a very normal fashion, with nothing much changed between them. Ilya definitely flirted with him a little more blatantly than usual now, but Shane was more than fine with that.
When his phone lit up with a notification from Ilya on that following Saturday night, asking if he wanted to come over, Shane should’ve made an excuse. He should have left it at that first time and moved on. But Shane soon learned that if Ilya was offering, he had a very hard time saying no.
Still, he was pleasantly surprised when, one weekend after another, they consistently hooked up. It was well known that Ilya got a lot of play. Mostly women, of course. It was also known that he typically didn’t keep people around for all that long. Shane was aware of that going in, so he knew to expect nothing other than casual.
And it was. Once a week, only at night, don’t stay over. Until he’d slipped up the one night. But Ilya had asked him to stay, and even if it was with the excuse that Ilya wasn’t done with him yet, there was a certain softness in the way Ilya asked that Shane wasn’t able to say no to.
Between that and their consistent communication over the summer, Shane had made the fatal mistake of letting his feelings get tangled up in all of it.
Which was why tonight had to be different.
The dinner had gone longer than planned, so Shane had sent Ilya a text earlier to let him know he’d be later than he’d originally expected. By the time he was ready to leave, the text remained unanswered, but he sent off another anyway, telling Ilya he was heading over.
He didn’t pack an overnight bag, and he wouldn’t stay over even if Ilya asked. He’d make up some excuse if he had to. He wasn’t strong enough to stop this completely yet, he just needed to take back some semblance of control until he was ready or until Ilya moved on.
As he made the short walk down Greek Row to Ilya’s house, Shane steeled himself. He might not be ready to do it now, but sooner or later, he had to find a way to end this confusing, damaging thing between them before it consumed his heart completely.
The Omicron Chi party was already in full swing by the time Shane slipped through the front door. He’d let Ilya know he was on his way, but he didn’t really check his phone that often during parties, so that meant Shane would probably have to go looking for him.
The O Chi house wasn’t huge, but it was big enough that the party spread across multiple of the downstairs rooms, spilling into the basement that typically doubled as the dance floor. It was also fucking packed, which was typical. Their parties were notoriously fun and even more notoriously welcoming to non-Greek life students, so there was always a diverse range of people in attendance.
Shane spotted Wyatt pretty soon after he arrived. Wyatt was a senior in the fraternity and one of Ilya’s roommates in the house. He’d also lived in the house with Ilya the year before, so they’d crossed paths quite a few times when Shane had come over or at parties. Which meant Wyatt knew why Shane was here, and for whom.
“Hey,” Shane greeted, having to raise his voice over the booming bass of the music.
“Hi, Hollander. Good to see you, it’s been a minute. Pretty sure Ilya’s over in the main room,” Wyatt said.
“Cool, thanks,” Shane replied.
He squeezed his way through the crowd, already a little overstimulated, as he searched for Ilya, finally spotting him in a dark back corner. Seeing as he was taller than the majority of the people at the party, he wasn’t exactly hard to find. He was talking to a girl Shane didn’t recognize, petite and very pretty with dark hair.
Shane was debating whether he should go interrupt or just try to catch Ilya’s attention from the other side of the room when the girl whispered something in Ilya’s ear, then pulled him in for a kiss.
Shane froze, rooted to the spot. His brain couldn’t quite process if the kiss lasted for seconds or minutes, but either way, it went on long enough to make his stomach drop. As they parted, Ilya’s face was indecipherable from where Shane was standing, but he leaned back in close to say something back to her. Before he had to watch things progress any further, Shane turned on his heel, escaping the room as fast as he could.
He wasn’t totally naive. He knew, in the back of his mind, that Ilya was fucking other people. But seeing it play out in front of him made him sick with jealousy, which made him feel foolish. Ilya wasn’t his and didn’t owe him anything. It did feel like poor taste to be making out with a girl while waiting for your fuckbuddy to come over, but Shane had never exactly had a roster to juggle, so he didn’t really know the proper etiquette. Maybe it was normal, and Shane was too sensitive and inexperienced to know any better.
Had Ilya grown bored of Shane? Did he plan on fucking that girl first while he was waiting for him to get there? Fuck, he’d been so stupid. So, so stupid. He wanted to laugh at himself. Only a complete idiot would go and catch feelings for Ilya Rozanov.
His head swam as the party closed in around him. He needed to get out of here, and he needed to go the fuck home immediately. Specifically, before Ilya could see him. Shane’s feelings were his own problem. He’d known what this was from the start. But he didn’t need Ilya knowing that Shane was hurt just from seeing him kiss someone else. That would be the final, brutal humiliation of the night, and it was the last thing he needed.
“Shane? Hey, you okay?”
It was a familiar voice. Rose. There was a comforting hand on his arm.
“I, uh. I don’t feel well,” he explained, and it wasn’t a lie. He was sure he looked as nauseous as he felt. “I think I’m gonna go home.”
“Okay,” she said, looking rather concerned. “You sure you're okay? Want me to walk you home?”
“No, it’s okay,” Shane promised, though he was touched by the gesture. “The Mu Lambda house isn’t that far of a walk, I’ll be fine.”
Rose didn’t look convinced. “Shane.”
“I’ll text you when I’m back, okay? I just gotta get out of here.”
“Okay,” she said, rubbing his arm comfortingly. “Please text me. Get home safe.”
“I will. Love you,” he replied.
He was already halfway out of the room before she could even say “Love you” back. Shane was thankful for the chill of the evening as he stepped back outside, walking briskly back to the Mu Lambda house. It helped clear his head a little. Even if he was still queasy, the edges of a panic attack were no longer threatening to close in.
His own house was, blessedly, pretty quiet. Some of the guys had gone out to the bars after dinner, and he’d never been so thankful that they weren’t hosting a party that night. A couple of his brothers were playing video games in the living room, but Shane just gave them a quick wave before bounding up the stairs and shutting himself in his room.
Collapsing into bed, he did at least have the presence of mind to shoot Rose a text letting her know he was home. She replied almost immediately, saying to let her know if he needed anything. Unless there was some way to erase the last hour from his mind, he was afraid there was nothing much else that could be done.
He plugged his phone in to charge for the night, putting it on silent and placing it face down on his nightstand. He didn’t exactly expect to hear from Ilya anytime soon, and he definitely didn’t have the energy to interact with anyone else for the rest of the night.
Every time he closed his eyes, his traitorous brain just replayed that kiss over and over. Shane regretted not sticking firmly to his original plan to stay as far away from Rozanov as he could this year. If he had, he wouldn’t be lying in bed feeling so injudicious. He wished he’d never given in, but maybe he needed to see that. Maybe he needed to be reminded of exactly the position he was in when it came to Ilya.
He was sure he’d wake up to some bitchy text from him about Shane skipping out on another one of their parties. Or maybe Ilya would be too busy with the other girl that he would forget all about Shane planning to come over. Either way, this was the push he’d been needing to force himself to take a step away from this messy thing between them. Hopefully, once and for all.