Ghost1901



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    On one particularly obsessive evening, he’d spoken into his phone, eyes burning from looking at the picture for far too long:

    “Hey Siri, what is the average Slavic penis length?”

    “I’m sorry,” she said, “I don’t understand your question.”

    ~~

    Or: Nine inches. Shane thinks that’s a big fucking lie.

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    09 Jun 2026

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    And so the text remains, in his phone, in his pocket, unsent and unsaid while Shane bangs his head on the elevator wall in deep contemplation of the brush of Rozanov’s lips against his, the snake of Rozanov’s tongue past his teeth. The very particular and divine experience of Rozanov’s escalation of that trademark mode of sultry suction that pushes past not only the flushed bloom of Shane’s lips but also apparently beyond all of his defenses because -

    Hell. Fucking absolute hell. 

    Shane might be starting to like him.

    Okay, well - this is unexpected, unanticipated, entirely unplanned for - and therefore, Shane’s nipping  that one down in the bud.

    He squares the slope of his shoulders as the elevator comes to a stop on the eighth floor, and the doors open…

    …to reveal a very tousled, slightly out of breath, and beautifully flushed Ilya Rozanov, as if Shane summoned him here via his own dastardly brain matter. He looks the same as when Shane left him save for the fact that he’s replaced the damp towel around his hips with a pair of slacks and the white formal shirt he’d been sporting when Shane initially walked in. 

    The buttons on both are undone.

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    09 Jun 2026

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    Shane can’t–fuck–he can’t think, can’t move, can’t do anything but stare at this photo of Ilya, of Ilya in panties: little black lace panties hidden beneath his lounge clothes, just for Shane to know about, to see.

    Ilya wears a pair of panties. Shane humps a pillow about it.

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    09 Jun 2026

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    It's now or never. It's go time. Or what the fuck ever. Shane spits it out. Maybe it comes out as the measliest attempt at seduction Shane's ever done before, "do you want me to fuck you with my big dick?"

    "Oh," Ilya says. Softly, like he's genuinely shocked now. But also definitely concealing a laugh. "Um. Is that what you want?"

    or, shane is hung but he literally isn't even using all that

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    08 Jun 2026

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    "And is like I said, very easy to do. You just lay back and let someone else do work. Could do it in my sleep, would not be problem at all for me to come hands-free.”

    Hollander scowled, full competitive personality shining through. “Prove it.”

    “Fine, I will,” Ilya snapped back.

    Hollander's eyes went wide, and so did Ilya's when he realized what he had promised. His words hung in the air between them, suddenly heavy with implication.

    ---
    Ilya doesn't think switching with Hollander one time for the sake of settling a bet will change anything about their arrangement, and it certainly wouldn't make him discover anything about himself. Afterall, it would only be one time, right?

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    08 Jun 2026