ssomethingwild



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    He finds a spot. Above Hollander’s shoulder blade, the knot hard and rigid, like bone. He leans into it slightly, testing. Hollander breathes again, hard. “Roz—”

    Ilya presses his thumb into the knot in Hollander’s back, and the air leaves Hollander’s lungs in one breath.

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    Ilya laughs. “You are the one I target the most in the rinks. You are the one I check the most into the boards.” His teeth are lazy, backlit by a glint of amusement. “You are Shane Hollander, the best of the best. Which means,” he tilts Shane’s chin to the side and examines his cheeks closely, “I should be disappointed when you aren’t scoring like you should, yes?”

    or: Ilya fucks Shane with an airsoft pistol.

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    18 Feb 2026

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    Ilya is in charge of when Shane gets off. Shane is testing the limits of that deal.

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    16 Feb 2026

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    This is the deal: Ilya and Shane don't know each other. Shane’s there to relax. He’s there to grab a beer and watch whatever’s on the bar TV and speak to no one. Ilya might approach him, or might not. It’s not up to Shane. If he has to wait, he waits. No questions once they’re in it, but there will be nothing unsafe, no doing anything that’d show up on a medical. Shane’s job is to trust—to believe a little.

    Again, this is the deal: Shane takes what he’s given.

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    I like beating you, Shane had said, once, half-drunk on pleasure in a rumpled hotel bed. I like it– afterwards, when you’re–

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    09 Feb 2026

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