Chapter Text
Luca feels ridiculous as he sits at the Hollander-Rozanov dining table, still half-hard, while his captain serves him dinner, explaining each dish as he spoons it onto Luca’s plate.
Shane watches Luca over the rim of his wine glass, eyes shining with barely contained amusement. Luca glares at him, decides he was crazy for ever thinking that Shane was the sensible one in the relationship. The man is obviously insane- insisting the three of them sit down for a calm, hormone-free dinner like Luca hadn’t been about ten seconds from coming in his pants like a teenager. Just from a goddamn kiss, too.
Well, Luca thinks to himself, it had been a kiss with the most beautiful man he’s ever seen- a fucking hockey legend- all while his captain, and the object of his sexual fantasies since he was thirteen, had been plastered across his back. On second thought, Luca is surprised he managed not to come in his pants like a teenager.
Ilya is settled into his chair by the time Luca is able to pull himself from his musings. His captain is just finishing topping off Luca’s wine- although Luca had only taken a few sips to begin with- when Ilya asks, “What questions do you have, shchenok?”
Luca blinks owlishly at him. Shane chuckles at Luca from across the table.
Ilya tsks at Luca’s deer-in-the-headlights expression. “You have questions, Luca. Think.” Luca flushes at the domineering tone of Ilya’s voice. He notices Shane smirking at the reaction.
“Um,” Luca stalls, takes a sip of his wine to buy some time, gather his thoughts. “What does shee-nook mean?”
Ilya laughs, loud and bright, and Shane shoots him a disgustingly love-struck look.
“Of course, is your first question,” Ilya chuckles with a shake of his head. “Shchenok- it means puppy.”
“Oh,” Luca stares at his plate, blushing. His stomach curls deliciously in the same way it does when Ilya calls him rookie. “A-and the one that starts with ‘M’?”
Ilya scoffs theatrically, head snapping to Shane as he exclaims, “Can you believe this, kotenok? Is trying to ruin mystery on first date, so rude.”
Luca bites the insides of his cheeks to hold back on squealing about the first date comment. Ilya smirks at him, prompts, “What are your other questions, shchenok?”
“I guess… why me?”
Ilya and Shane exchange a weighted look. When Ilya looks back at Luca, it’s with a curious furrow to his brows.
“Is serious question?” Ilya asks. Luca doesn’t understand the undercurrent of anger in Ilya’s words, hopes he’s just imagining it.
“I-I mean,” Luca shrugs, feeling inexplicably shy all of the sudden. “I guess so. You two are…” Luca trails off, eyes drifting off to the side as he grasps for the right words. “You’re icons. Basically legends, at the top of your careers. Blissfully married and both fucking,” Luca laughs incredulously, “gorgeous. You guys could have anyone.” Luca smiles wryly. “I’m… well, I’m still getting called ‘rookie’ after years on the team. Not that it bothers me,” he is quick to add when he sees their faces fall. “At least, not when you guys say it. I like when you guys say it,” Luca admits quietly, cheeks heating. He sighs. “I guess, I just don’t understand- why you would choose me.”
Luca notices Shane staring at the side of Ilya’s face while Ilya watches Luca. Ilya’s jaw clenches, teeth grinding. He studies Luca for several seconds before shaking his head and shoveling a forkful of food into his mouth. His eyes remain on Luca as he chews.
“Maybe,” Shane chimes in, “it’s better if we get to that particular question later.”
Luca’s eyes dart uncertainly between the two, but nods regardless. Ilya nods as well, his mouth still full.
“Sure,” Luca agrees. “Then, I guess… what all is it that you’re wanting from this? Like, am I just here to watch? You said ‘stay the night’, is this only for tonight? Have you guys done this before, with anyone else? How long-”
Luca cuts himself off when Shane grins, Luca’s eyes jumping to Ilya just in time to catch him hiding a smile into his napkin as he wipes his face.
“What?” Luca asks dumbly.
“Nothing, Luca- those are all great questions,” Shane says at the same time that Ilya teases, “You are very cute, shchenok.”
Luca looks between them both, flustered, before busying himself by digging into the dinner that Ilya made. He glances up at them again, decides to be brave, and gestures with his fork for them to continue.
“We have not done this before,” Ilya assures him.
Shane adds, “There’s no one else we’ve wanted to do this with, before.”
“Just you, Luca,” Ilya says with a smile.
Luca's heart flutters, and he hides his smile, tucks it away as he continues eating, and listens to them as they continue to work through his questions.
Shane had cleared the table half a glass of wine ago, insisting that Luca sit, relax, he’s their guest. Luca had scooted his chair back and started to stand anyway, manners getting the best of him, when Ilya had leaned over, fingers wrapping around the base of Luca’s chair and tugged him sharply back to the table. Luca could do nothing but stare at Ilya, mouth falling open as his stomach swooped dangerously. Shane had chuckled, rolled his eyes, and mumbled a soft good boy, as he passed Luca on the way to the kitchen.
And now, Luca sits with his head resting on his hand, elbow propped up on the table as he listens to Shane tease Ilya mercilessly, watches Ilya roll his eyes, posturing like he doesn’t worship the ground his husband walks on.
Luca is feeling wonderfully floaty after the meal, the glass and a half of wine, the soothing clarity of having all of his questions answered.
No, they haven’t done anything like this before.
They’re not sure, not exactly, what they’re wanting out of this long-term. They didn’t want to plan too far ahead, get too invested, in case Luca wasn’t interested. Luca had scoffed, Ilya had fixed him with a reprimanding look.
And, even though they don’t know for sure, no- this does not have to be just tonight.
Also, an unequivocable no from both of them- Luca is not just here to watch.
Maybe Ilya notices the way Luca’s eyes are starting to glaze over, not with boredom or exhaustion, but with a contentedness so filling that Luca feels he might burst with it. Ilya catches Luca’s gaze, eyes sweeping over his face appreciatively, before he claps.
“I think is time to move to living room, moya lyubov?” Ilya taps a finger to the tip of Shane’s nose, smiling when Shane wrinkles it. “Is more comfortable for our guest.”
Luca’s breath catches as both of them turn their attention to him. He squirms under their scrutiny, feels heat creep up his neck. Ilya stands and holds out a hand for Luca. Luca glances to Shane, who simply smiles lazily at him, dips his head in Luca’s direction.
Luca accepts Ilya’s hand; lets his captain pull him to his feet. There’s a low frequency buzzing in Luca’s head, and he feels his chest grow tight. He follows easily as Ilya leads him into the living room, with Shane trailing not far behind them.
Luca notices that Anya’s toys have been cleared away- suspects that Shane may have tidied up when Luca and Ilya were alone in the kitchen before dinner.
Self-consciously, Luca darts a glance towards the corner of the room, eyes searching for... and, there it is. Sitting on the second-to-top shelf on one of their bookcases, is the puppy camera. The lens is shiny, catching the light in the room and reflecting it off of the curved surface. It’s so obvious to Luca now, he wonders how he possibly could have missed it. Wonders if maybe he hadn’t missed it at all- if his subconscious had simply decided to gloss over the camera’s existence, allowing Luca to take part in a dangerous, stupid game, guilt-free. Had he known there was a possibility they could be watching? Had some part of him actually hoped for that?
Luca feels Ilya’s fingers tighten around his as two hands glide over Luca’s shoulders, fingers digging into the tense muscles.
From behind him, Shane murmurs, “You okay, baby?”
Luca’s eyes flash to Ilya in front of him, who was looking at Luca with encouraging eyes and a soft smile. Luca leans back a little, welcoming Shane’s arms as they circle around him.
“I’m okay. I’m just…”
“Nervous?” Ilya supplies.
Luca grimaces. “Ah, maybe just a little. I’m sorry.”
Shane and Ilya make complementary sounds of reassurance- Shane hums as he hooks his chin over Luca’s shoulder and Ilya tuts softly. Ilya brings Luca’s hand to his lips, presses a firm kiss to his knuckles.
“No sorries Luca,” Ilya tells him, eyes resolute. “You have done nothing wrong.”
Shane squeezes Luca, says softly, “It’s okay to be nervous. And we don’t actually have to do anything tonight, if you don’t want to- if you’d rather wait.”
Luca is shaking his head before Shane has finished talking. “No- no way, I don’t want to wait. I want to do-” he tapers off uncertainly, cheeks burning as he chews on his lip, “-anything?”
Both men chuckle as Luca fidgets between them. It’s the second time this evening that Luca has found himself sandwiched between the two. His head begins to race with future schemes to find himself in the same situation.
“We would like that as well, shchenok,” Ilya says with a smile. Ilya brings his free hand to Luca’s face, runs the pad of his thumb along Luca’s bottom lip, gently tugs it free of his teeth. “But we can go slow, if that is better.”
Shane makes a sound of agreement. “We can take our time, baby.”
“I don’t want to go slow,” Luca can’t believe how petulant he sounds, even to his own ears.
Ilya huffs fondly, rolling his eyes at Luca’s pouty lip. He glances at Shane and jerks his head towards the couch. Without a word, Shane releases Luca and steps away, moving to sit on a cushion.
“Hmmm, can I tell you what I want, malysh?” Ilya muses, breath hot and damp as it puffs against Luca’s neck.
Luca’s teeth dig into his bottom lip and he nods, eyes locked on where Shane sits on the couch, watching them.
“What do you want, Ilya?” he asks on a breath.
Luca whimpers as Ilya runs his tongue up Luca’s neck, blows a cool steam of air on the wet path it leaves. “I want to suck your cock,” he whispers, accent curling deliciously around the vowels, consonants resonating beautifully in Luca’s ear.
“Fuck,” Luca whines, eyes fluttering shut. He sags further into Ilya’s arms, his captain bearing the extra weight easily.
“Are you going to give me what I want, shchenok? Are you going to be very good for me?”
Luca nods desperately, his dick already throbbing against the confines of his pants. “P-please, Ilya-”
Ilya groans, hands tightening almost painfully around Luca’s hips. Ilya lifts his head, throws Shane a heavy-lidded look. “Sounds familiar- da, sweetheart?” Ilya grins sharply down at Luca trembling in his arms. “Sounds like the first time we heard our sweet boy moan our names. Is so much sweeter in person, shchenok.”
Luca’s cheeks flood with heat, shame, and he whimpers pathetically, eyes slipping shut against the embarrassment.
Ilya tuts, raising a hand to tap firmly at Luca’s cheek. “You will keep your eyes open when I suck you, Luca. Do you understand?”
Luca nods, his eyes growing wet, stinging with need.
“Sit on the couch next to Shane, shchenok.” Ilya instructs, voice firm. “Do not touch him.”
Luca obeys instantly, tripping over to the couch at a speed he may find embarrassing later, when he’s not so hard he can’t think. The second his ass touches the couch cushion, his attention snaps back to Ilya. He decides it will be too difficult to look at Shane, to see his eyes dark and cheeks flushed with arousal, and not be able to touch him. If he just doesn’t look, he’ll be okay.
Luca’s eyes are dutifully trained on Ilya, watching the way his attentive gaze sweeps over Luca. He’s so focused on his captain that he doesn’t see Shane shift on the couch, pulling his knees under him and twisting sideways. Luca is too busy looking at Ilya to do anything as Shane’s mouth latches onto his neck.
“Shane,” Luca moans, his hands raising instinctively to thread through Shane’s hair.
“Nyet, shchenok,” Ilya snaps, eyes hardening. Luca freezes, arms partially lifted as his eyes widen. “I said do not touch him. I did not say he could not touch you. Hands at your sides.”
Luca stutters out a whine, but he listens. Fuck, he’s always known that he has a thing for the way Ilya bosses him around at practice, but he had no idea how deep it would run. Luca’s never been harder, never needed release before, like he does now.
Shane hums happily, continues to mouth at Luca’s neck, ignoring all of Luca’s writhing and pathetic, choked off whimpers.
“Such a good puppy,” Shane teases, lips brushing Luca’s skin with every word.
“Jesus Christ,” Luca curses, eyes squeezing shut as desire curls distractingly in his gut. He forces them open, recalling Ilya’s terse command.
Finally, finally Ilya stalks forward, eyes never leaving Luca’s face as he kneels between his spread legs. Ilya isn’t even touching him yet but Luca groans- the sight alone nearly too much.
“Earlier,” Ilya says casually, like he’s about to start a conversation about the weather. Ilya thumbs open Luca’s fly as he talks, pulls his zipper down agonizingly slow. “You asked us a very stupid question, shchenok. Do you remember what it was?”
Luca can barely remember his fucking name at this point- not with the way Shane is grazing his teeth over the tendon in Luca’s throat, sucking a mean mark into the sensitive spot below his jaw. How is Ilya expecting him to remember anything when he looks like that- eyes dark and heady from where they stare up at Luca, quick fingers moving closer and closer to Luca’s dick with every passing second.
“No,” Luca manages, practically shaking from the effort it was taking not to touch Shane, to keep his hands at his sides.
“Hmmm, is okay, I will remind you.” Ilya tugs at the loosened waistband of Luca’s pants, and Luca obediently lifts his hips. Ilya curls his fingers beneath Luca’s boxer briefs, pulls both them and his pants down with a single tug.
Luca whimpers as his cock springs free, slapping wetly against his stomach.
“Look, kotenok,” Ilya purrs. Shane pauses tormenting Luca with his teeth and tongue for long enough to turn his head, getting a better view of Luca’s dick. Ilya smirks up at Shane, comments, “Is even prettier in person.”
Shane murmurs his agreement, resting a cheek on the curve of Luca’s shoulder as he stares. “How does he taste?” Shane asks.
Ilya flashes him a wicked grin. “Is wonderful question, kotenok.” Ilya doesn’t give Luca a chance to brace himself before he sinks his hot, wet mouth over Luca.
Luca shouts, hips jerking up desperately. Ilya’s eyes flick up to his, reprimanding, before Ilya’s hands wrap around Luca’s waist, forcing him still. Ilya hollows his cheeks around the head, tongue laving incessantly at the underside of his cock.
“Sorry, s-sorry,” Luca sputters. Shane chooses that moment to fist a hand in Luca’s curls, jerking his head sharply to the side to free up more skin to mark up. Luca cries out, struggles against the push of Ilya’s hands, the pull of Shane’s fingers in his hair.
Ilya pulls off of Luca with an obscene slurp, looks at Shane sternly. “You are not being gentle with your new toy, kotenok.”
Luca’s pulse flutters at being talked about like he isn’t there, like he’s a prop for their pleasure. Maybe, he considers fleetingly, it should bother him. He pushes the thought aside as Shane sinks his teeth into Luca’s skin, prompting a broken whimper from Luca’s throat.
Mercifully, Shane releases him, whines to Ilya, “S’not fair, sir, want him, please.”
Luca’s eyes roll to the back of his head and he nearly comes on the spot. Fuck.
“Take his shirt off, shlyukha.” Ilya commands. Shane scrambles to obey and Luca lifts his arms up as Shane tugs the shirt over his head. Almost as an afterthought, Shane pulls his own shirt off as well. As soon as Luca’s chest is bare, Shane is running both hands over him. “Have you remembered question yet, shchenok?”
Luca chokes out a laugh, shakes his head frantically. “Fuck- no.”
Ilya smiles, lowers his head to suckle at the tip of Luca’s cock, before releasing him again. “You asked us why we chose you,” Ilya’s eyes narrow as he looks up at Luca. “Was very silly question, Luca. Do you know why?”
Shane has moved on from Luca’s neck, is flicking a pink nipple with his tongue when Luca shakes his head, breath hitching on every inhale.
“Luca, malysh,” Ilya coos, face genuine and earnest. “Krasivyy mal’chik, how could it be anyone else?”
Luca sniffles, eyes burning with unshed tears- the good kind, the best kind. He’s never felt so good, so completely senseless with pleasure.
Luca’s lips part and he tries to muster the strength to respond, to form a single word even- but Ilya cuts him off with a quick, “Kiss him, kotenok.” Ilya’s gaze snaps to Luca. “You can touch him now, sweet boy.” Ilya sinks his mouth back over Luca.
The slick, wet heat is intoxicating, it’s too fucking much- Luca doesn’t think anything can ever feel better than this- and then Shane grabs at Luca’s face, turning his head to the side and sealing his mouth over Luca’s.
Luca whines into Shane’s mouth, twisting his fingers through Shane’s hair the moment he remembers he’s allowed to touch now. Luca feels light-headed, turned upside-down as he fights to keep up with the urgency of Shane’s lips, the intensity of Ilya’s mouth around him.
Ilya allows Luca’s dick to slip from his mouth once again, begins to jerk him off roughly instead, as he growls, “Take out his cock, shchenok.”
Luca’s hands fly to Shane’s waistband, moving quicker than he thought possible in his current state of mind. It’s only seconds until Shane’s cock is hot in Luca’s palm, the weight of it indescribable. Luca stutters out a broken fuck as he wraps his hand around Shane, fingers just flexing, not moving yet- simply taking a moment to marvel at his soft skin. Shane’s mouth opens on a moan against Luca’s lips.
“Look how pretty, da? See how he gets wet like girl?” Ilya grins as Luca and Shane both whine into each other’s mouths. “Stroke him, shchenok, be a good boy.”
Luca listens, uses the fat beads of precum leaking from the tip of Shane’s cock to smooth the glide of his palm as he begins a slow, decadent pace. Shane trembles and his eyelids flutter closed, his entire body practically vibrating until he stills- back arching in a languid stretch as he moans.
Then Shane pitches forward, his lips desperately seeking Luca’s once again.
Now, Luca knows he’s not the most experienced guy around- this was meticulously revealed to him and his entire team during that goddamn drinking game. But Luca has kissed his fair share of people- men and women- before. Which is why he feels confident in his conclusion.
Nobody is doing it quite like Shane Hollander.
Shane kisses Luca like it’s a competition, like he’s being graded on it. Every slide of his tongue against Luca’s, every nip and suck to Luca’s swollen bottom lip, every whimper and whine that Shane lets out feels like an electric current connected straight to Luca’s dick.
Luca can feel his thighs being stretched farther apart- the burn a pleasant ache- is distantly aware of Ilya’s hands moving relentlessly across his skin. It’s when Luca feels the press of a dry fingertip against his hole that he startles, eyes flying to Ilya as he tears his lips from Shane, his hand slowing its movement over Shane’s cock.
Shane whines and shoves his face into the curve of Luca’s neck. Luca feels the damp press of Shane’s watery eyes against his skin.
Ilya’s eyes are focused, calculated, as he watches Luca’s face. “Have you ever been fucked here, shchenok?” Ilya asks casually, as his finger gently circles Luca’s puckered rim.
Luca pants, eyes dark and hooded, as he shakes his head.
“Hmm,” Ilya hums, attention drifting downward to watch his ministrations. “You have touched yourself here- we have seen it.”
Luca groans in humiliation, head falling back onto the couch as he throws an arm across his face.
“Don’t be embarrassed, puppy,” Shane mumbles into Luca’s neck. “You were so perfect,” he sighs. “So hot.”
“You touch yourself here often?” Ilya asks him.
Luca can only nod, eyes glassy and lips parted as he gasps for breath.
Ilya groans, sucks a hickey into the sensitive skin of Luca’s inner thigh as Luca writhes beneath him. “I would very much like to fuck you someday, malysh.”
“Now,” Luca gasps. “Please fuck me, Ilya, please.”
Ilya starts to shake his head, mouth opening to respond, but Luca continues to beg. “I want it so bad, Ilya,” he sobs. “Please, I’ve been good, please.”
Ilya coos, withdraws his finger from Luca’s hole completely as he says, “He is being so needy, kotenok. Has forgotten we said we will take our time.”
Shane lays his hand over where Luca’s fingers are curled around Shane’s dick. Shane squeezes, urging Luca to tighten his grip, and Shane moves their hands in sync around him. Luca, finally understanding what Shane is after, resumes his previous pace as he fists Shane’s cock.
“So greedy, puppy,” Shane lifts his head from Luca’s neck to whisper in his ear. Luca feels the brush of Shane’s cheek against his as Shane turns his head to look at Ilya. “Can’t he have just a little, sir? Please?”
Ilya sighs, leveling Shane with a hard glare. “First, you are too rough with your toy and now you are too soft? What is it you are wanting, shlyukha?”
Shane just whines, fucks his hips desperately up into the tight circle of Luca’s fist, before whimpering, “Wan’ him to come, sir, please.”
“You will have to help me, kotenok,” Ilya coos, as he stretches an arm out towards Shane, two fingers extended expectantly.
Shane obeys the request, one that Luca doesn’t quite understand yet, and sucks both fingers into his mouth with a soft moan. Luca twists his head, stares obsessively as Shane slurps and drools around Ilya’s thick fingers. Ilya’s hand is still moving lazily over Luca’s cock, just enough stimulation to keep Luca on the edge without spilling over- the fucker.
“He is so good with his mouth, shchenok,” Ilya says reverently, eyes trained on where his fingers are fucking steadily in and out of Shane’s mouth. “Hopefully, soon, you will know how good, da?”
After several- educating- seconds, as Luca watches Shane suck and worship Ilya’s fingers like they were his cock, Ilya finally slides them from between Shane’s red, spit-slicked lips.
“Would you like to come, Luca?” Ilya asks softly as he brings his hand back down, ghosts the tips of his wet fingers over Luca’s hole.
“P-puh,” Luca stutters pathetically- whining when he can’t quite force out the words. He just nods desperately instead, hopes it’s enough.
“Good boy,” Ilya growls, as he presses one spit-soaked finger into Luca, and then the second shortly after- the burn of a little too much a little too fast nearly too good for Luca to handle- before sinking his mouth back over Luca’s cock. Ilya's finger tips find Luca's prostate instantly, beginning a relentless friction that sends sparks throughout Luca's body.
Luca cries out, hand subconsciously tightening around Shane’s dick. Shane gasps wetly, bucking helplessly into Luca’s grasp. Luca manages to regain enough of his mind to go back to kissing Shane- one hand reaching around to hold the back of Shane’s head steady as they lick into each other’s mouths, the other winding through Ilya’s curls while Luca tries to stop the aborted thrusts of his hips up into Ilya’s mouth.
“Come, baby,” Shane breathes against Luca’s lips. “Come for us.”
Luca’s breath catches in his throat, chest heaving as he jerks his hips up into the hot, wet suction of Ilya’s mouth as he comes.
Ilya swallows around him, eyes open and locked on Luca and Shane as they pant and gasp for air above him. Shane’s hips stutter to a stop, eyelids fluttering shut as he moans, coating Luca’s fist with his come.
Luca can’t decide what to look at- his brain whirring as it tries to take in Ilya Rozanov’s throat constricting around Luca’s sensitive cock and Shane Hollander’s come cooling over his fingers. He thinks he might get a moment- a single second without his psyche being overloaded with more arousal than he ever thought possible- until Ilya clambers up on top of him, straddling Luca’s hips as Ilya jerks his cock roughly.
Luca’s hands hover around Ilya’s waist for a brief moment, shocked and unprepared for his ultimate sexual fantasy to simply climb into his lap. It’s at Ilya’s choked off fuck, Luca that he finally regains some balance, has the braincells to at least loosely wrap his hand around Ilya’s cock and help jerk him off.
Ilya comes with a garbled shout- cock spurting long, white streaks across Luca’s stomach, his chest- he feels some hit his chin, a drop on his cheek.
All three of them still, panting and gasping for air for a moment. Luca feels dizzy, feels like his brain has leaked right down his throat and out his dick. Shane is tucked tightly against Luca’s side, face pressed into his neck, hands tangled into Luca’s hair. Ilya towers above him, eyes dark and lips parted as he stares down at Luca.
Ilya swallows roughly, mutters, “Clean him, kotenok.”
An embarrassing, gargled sound escapes from Luca’s throat when Shane immediately obeys- pink, wet tongue running shamelessly over Luca’s face, his neck, his chest.
Ilya takes Luca’s lips in a filthy kiss while Shane licks long stripes over Luca’s pecs, and Ilya forces his tongue into Luca’s mouth until Luca can taste himself.
“Good boy, kotenok,” Ilya gasps, his huge hand coming up to pat Shane’s cheek. “Such good, pretty boys.”
Ilya flops to the side, pulls both Luca and Shane along with him- rearranging them until Luca is curled against Ilya’s side and Shane is draped across Luca’s back.
Luca burrows his face into Ilya’s chest to catch his breath. If he shudders a bit, eyes wet with doggedly held back tears, well, that’s no one’s business but his.
It’s not that Luca isn’t blissfully, mindlessly happy in this exact moment- it’s just, Luca starts to worry that he’ll only be this blissfully, mindlessly happy in this exact moment and… then never again.
Luca begins to shiver, the trembling of his body impossible to hide.
Ilya shifts Luca in his arms, nudges Luca’s chin with his shoulder until their eyes meet. Ilya spears Luca with a relentlessly attentive look. His captain’s eyes dart across his face, and Luca fights against the urge to cower under his keen examination.
“You promised us, shchenok,” Ilya reprimands gently.
“I-I’m okay,” Luca insists, his voice unfortunately weak and watery. “M’not uncomfortable.” He’s mortified as he feels a single tear spill down his cheek.
“Luca, baby,” Shane coos, curling over Luca until he can press his lips to Luca’s temple. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Luca hiccups- so frustrated because he means it and that’s exactly what’s wrong but he doesn’t know how to explain it.
Shane and Ilya exchange a weighted glance above Luca’s head. Luca starts to panic, starts to worry that they’ll think that he can’t handle this.
“I’m fine, I p-promise, I just-”
Ilya shushes Luca as he brings a hand to his face, strokes a thumb along Luca’s cheekbone. “You will come shower with us, let us hold you? You will let us take care of you, da?”
“Please, Luca?” Shane nuzzles into his cheek.
“I don’t want to get up,” Luca admits.
Ilya pauses, regards Luca carefully. “Can you tell me why, malysh?”
Luca takes a deep breath, attempts to single out what’s helpful from the whirlwind of thoughts causing panic to churn in his stomach. Ilya and Shane wait, patient and understanding as Luca gathers himself.
“Th-this doesn’t feel real,” he confesses. “It feels like I am dreaming, and-” Luca swallows harshly, squeezes his eyes shut, “- and I’m afraid that if I get up, it will all go away.”
It sounds ridiculous- worse than ridiculous, it sounds silly- when Luca says it out loud. But Shane and Ilya don’t make fun of him, they don’t chuckle or exchange mocking looks. They just smile at him, eyes soft with understanding, and hold him tighter.
“If we promise,” Shane starts, his eyes fond as he looks at Luca, “that it won’t go away- will you come upstairs with us? Let us clean you up and hold you?”
Luca sniffles, embarrassed, and nods.
Ilya extracts himself from their tangle carefully, until he’s standing in front of Luca and Shane.
“I will have to increase my lifting routine, Shanya,” he comments glibly, before squatting to hoist Luca into his arms. “If I am to carry both of my boys to bed.”
Luca yelps, clutching at Ilya’s shoulders frantically as his legs wrap around Ilya’s waist. Luca clings to him, flashing a shocked, uneasy look in Shane’s direction.
Shane only smiles, eyes creased with laughter as he watches Ilya carry Luca towards the stairs. “I don’t know if you’re up for the challenge, Rozanov.”
Ilya scoffs, the sound sharp and close to Luca’s ear. “Do you hear how mean my husband is to me, shchenok?”
Luca can’t hold back the giggle that bubbles up in his throat. He presses his mouth against Ilya’s shoulder to muffle the sound.
“Toropit’sya, solnyshko,” Ilya calls over his shoulder. He flashes Luca a smile. “Our puppy needs your attention.”
Their shower is ridiculous, Luca thinks to himself, as he tries not to float from his body while both Shane and Ilya rub soapy hands all over his body. Luca sways mindlessly in Ilya’s direction- his captain rights him with a knowing smile, pushes his weight back against Shane’s naked chest.
“Keep each other company, da?” Ilya smirks, quickly rinsing himself off before slipping out of the shower.
Luca waits until he hears the bathroom door click shut before twisting his head over his shoulder and asking, “Where’s he going?”
Shane hums, the vibrations running pleasantly through Luca’s body.
“He’s cleaning up,” Shane says simply. “Maybe getting the bed ready for all of us.”
Luca’s brow furrows. He becomes momentarily distracted when Shane sinks his fingers into Luca’s hair, massaging at his scalp.
“But, uh…” Luca leans into Shane’s touch, is roused only when Shane chuckles at the dreamy expression on Luca’s face. “But we could have helped him with that?”
Shane turns Luca in his arms, urges him to tilt his head back into the shower head’s stream. As the conditioner is rinsing from Luca’s hair, Shane says, “He likes to take care of me- of us.” Shane corrects himself, squeezes Luca tightly as he does. “It makes him very happy when we let him. Okay?”
Luca meets Shane’s eyes; hopes he understands the sincerity shining in them. Luca smiles. “Yeah, okay.”
The bed is turned down- pillows fluffed and ready- when Shane and Luca step into the bedroom. Ilya is there, smiling softly at them as he kisses Shane’s cheek and reaches over to squeeze reassuringly at Luca’s bicep. Luca glances over and notes the three bottles of water sitting on the nightstand, next to a small bowl of almonds.
Ilya kisses his husband, eyes falling closed as he pulls Shane in tight against him. Luca watches, and- for the first time- doesn’t feel the dull burn of jealous longing as he does. When Ilya pulls back from Shane, a gooey, blissed out smile on his face, he turns to Luca. The smile doesn’t fade.
Shane looks at Luca encouragingly, eyes hooded and brimming with satisfaction.
Ilya reaches out a hand towards Luca, asks gently, “Do you want to join us, Luca?”
And, fuck, does Luca want.