Chapter Text
Ilya’s college experience has taught him many lessons. Most relating to his major of course, but those ones are more built in. The fun lessons are the ones he’s been taught about himself.
1. Ilya rozanov is the best frat president.
2. Ilya Rozanov is hot.
3. Ilya Rozanov has no shame.
With a repertoire like that, what other choice does Ilya have but to participate in every dumb trend he sees?
So naturally, when Troy comes up to him in the house with an evil grin and his phone open, Ilya is immediately in. The video shows some frat guys knocking on dorms, catching a football when the girls open the door, and asking “You ladies alright?” It’s the perfect mix of pathetic and funny Ilya is drawn to like magnet.
The next hour is spent gathering all the guys willing to participate and getting their best suits on. Once they’re dressed and ready Ilya leads them to the dorms. Troy goes first as it was his idea, a very shocked blonde girl answers. She stares at him silently for a moment before bursting out laughing which spreads to everyone else. It goes similarly for most of them. Some get less humorous answers and are ribbed by the guys. By the time they reach the end of the hall it’s just Ilya left who hasn’t gone.
“Saving the best for last, you know?” Ilya says with a shit-eating grin and a wink before he lines up at the door. Ilya glances at the number and a memory hits him, this is Rose Landry’s room, she’s a nice sorority girl Ilyas met through Sveta a couple times. She doesn’t live in the house because by the time she joined it was already full. She’ll find him funny enough to not stare at him like he’s the lamest man in the world (poor Wyatt was not so lucky)
Ilya knocks twice then lines up at the door, Bood holds the football ready to toss, Troy holds his phone already grinning, all his other frat brothers are watching a bit further back. Ilya hears some shuffling and chatter, she has people over. That should be fine, probably some girls from her sorority.
When the handle turns and starts to open Ilya realizes how wrong he is. Fully open, the door reveals the most attractive man Ilya has ever seen. He’s around Ilyas height and build. He has stunning slightly grown out jet black hair that’s pushed back revealing his face. And oh god, his face. Two brown eyes stare back at him; it’s like he’s staring right into the other man’s soul with how full of emotion they are. He’s gorgeously tan, looks like he’s asian, not just that though, some of his features are more European. His nose is probably from whatever kind of boring Anglo Saxon he is part. The freckles on said nose are their own spectacle, a smattering of brown that fizzles out across his checks. Even past his glasses he can see them, Ilyas body reacts to the idea of seeing the freckles on their own before he can control that specific thought.
Ilya doesn’t have a chance to look at the rest of the man before he is reminded what he’s doing here. He is supposed to say his line after catching the football, but he can’t really do that if he never catches it to begin with. The football wooshes right through his waiting hands, hitting the pretty man directly in the chest with a thump. Has Bood been throwing that hard the whole time? The guy loses his balance and his breath, yelping slightly as he falls onto his ass. Ilya stands still for about two seconds before he drops down to his knees and puts a hand on his shoulder.
“Are you okay?” Ilya tries to conceal most of the worry in his voice. Some slips through anyway. Pretty man adjusts his glasses and coughs once, caught off guard.
“Uhm, yea. What was that for?” Ilya should probably feel embarrassed by how annoyed pretty man sounds. Unfortunately, he does not, too distracted by pretty man’s voice. He’s so Canadian, his voice is just a bit rougher than he’d expected. The words almost go entirely over Ilya’s head.
“We are so sorry dude,” Bood apologizes sounding remorseful enough for both him and Ilya. Troy put the phone down and is looking at pretty man with concern in his eyes, then he kicks Ilya’s thigh.
“Dude! You were supposed to catch it!” Troy scolds in a loud whisper. Ilya rolls his eyes.
“Yes, I know Barrett,” Ilya decides with much effort to not look back at pretty man and instead around the room. Rose comes out of the bathroom door nearby looking extremely concerned.
“Shane oh my god! Are you okay?” She assumes a similar position to Ilya. Shane. Shane Shane Shane Shane. Ilya files that information away before deciding to be the good frat president he should be.
“Bood hit him with a football” Ilya says with exaggerated solemn, shaking his head. Bood makes indignant sounds behind him
“Oh! Hi Ilya,” Rose says with a small smile before helping Shane to his feet “Up you go big guy.” Shane stands easily; the fall was more out of shock than hurt then. Thank god. If Ilya had hurt him he’d have to work extra hard to get on his good side.
“Thanks Rose,” He smiles at Rose appreciatively then turns his gaze to Ilya. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, definitely not pleased with him. Honestly though, Ilya cannot bring himself to think too hard when he sees that expression. He’s like a displeased kitten. Not nearly as intimidating as a six foot tall man built like an athlete should be. Once he analyzes his expression slightly more and realizes he’s unhappy, Ilya’s consciousness overrules his questionable turn on.
“So sorry, are you okay?” Ilya stands himself, picking the football up on the way and shoving it into Wyatts hands behind him.
Shane takes a few seconds to glare before looking Ilya up and down. His entire expression changes and Ilya’s heartbeat quickens. Pretty man is checking him out.
“Yeah, I’m fine. You make it a habit to hit people with footballs?” Rose hits Shanes shoulder as the words leave his mouth. Ilya would be a lair if he said the sass wasn’t doing something to him.
Ilya shakes his head
“Not usually, no” They make eye contact that Ilya knows the meaning of. This guys into him. He will make sure something comes of that.
“We are so sorry, seriously. We were just trying to do some stupid TikTok thing.” Bood reiterates then pulls Ilya away by the back of his shirt. “We’ll leave you guys alone, so sorry.” Bood closes the door then grabs ilya by the shoulders. “What the hell.” He shakes Ilya back and forth lightly “You weren’t supposed to let it hit him Ilya!”
“He was fine” Ilya chuckles and steadies Boods hands.
“Let's get out of here before I die of embarrassment” Luca ushers them along.
As they walk down the hallway Ilya is teased and pushed around a bit. His brains anywhere but here though. Shane, Ilya thinks he’s heard that name from Rose before. He’s a hockey player, he remembers Rose saying she goes to his games, explains his bulk.
Ilya’s one of the hottest men on campus, but Shane? He’s not something Ilya can compete with. Ilya doesn’t mean to be cocky, but he has eyes, and he could see hunger in Shane’s. He will make that man his.
Shit, what was he doing in Rose’s room anyway?