Happy Birthday, Ilya Rozanov
Bisexual fan fiction for your reading pleasure.
Like many of you I’ve spent the past month elbow-deep in Heated Rivalry stan culture. I’ve loved gagging (on it) alongside my obsessed brethren almost as much as I loved actually watching the show.
I now spend hours a day on Threads, where the vibes are immaculate and the community care is unmatched—if I’m ever stranded hungry & penniless in the street, I’ll just shout “Wow!! Genetic” and trust that hundreds of Heated Rivalry Threads users will materialize and come to my aid, ginger ales and home-cooked pasta in tow.
To put it bluntly, this community originated around gay sex. (We may now be powered by the strength of queer love, but our origin story is hornier than that and we damn well know it.) Before this show aired, I was blissfully ignorant of the fact that smut could have this power. My only experience with smut was romantasy, and my only experience with romantasy was ACOTAR. I’d definitely never written fan fiction—or heard of its mecca, AO3.
But then Zachary Zane, fellow bi author and writer of the impeccable newsletter BOYSLUT, reached out with the opportunity of a lifetime asking me to contribute to his HR fanfic series. I immediately replied “YES GOD,” then felt my entire sense of self lock in around this project (a Kegel of the mind, if you will).
While physically I was celebrating Christmas with my in-laws, mentally I was running through potential scenarios:
Ultimately a threesome with Svetlana was too tempting to resist, but I knew I needed to take great care with that narrative given Shane’s monoseuxality (which, as I wrote about here, we love) and his simmering rage. (Obviously I took this project too seriously in every way, so here’s a video of my creative process.)
If you’re a member of my extended family or know me in a professional context, consider this your last warning to put down the phone and walk away.
For the rest of you, without further ado: Le smut!
Happy Birthday, Ilya Rozanov
When they woke, the sun was already high in the sky, the lake glittering outside their window.
For a moment Shane panicked upon seeing so much daylight, his brain reverting to his usual worries—that he needed to be at practice, that he’d wasted the day. His body was still on edge from the night before: Fear upon seeing his dad in the kitchen, followed by shame, landing in the unsteady calm of his parents’ acceptance.
He had to remind himself: That unsteady calm? It was steady now. That nightmare? He’d woken up. He was with Ilya. They were boyfriends. His parents knew his true self, and they loved him anyway—loved him more, even.
He wasn’t disappointing anyone.
Next to him, Ilya snored softly. Shane reminded himself that he had nowhere to be, no tasks to attend to aside from the man breathing by his side.
“Happy Saturday,” Shane whispered with earnest glee.
“Is Saturday?” A groggy Ilya asked, one eye open.
“Mmhmm.” Shane rolled on top of him. When their chests touched like this, he felt an electricity that made him somehow...whole.
“Ah,” Ilya groaned. “Then is my birthday.”
“Your birthday?!” Shane gasped. “No way. Today is August 15. Twitter said—I mean, I thought you were a Scorpio.”
“You been reading my fan forums again? Tsk tsk.” Ilya mockingly flexed his biceps. “Look at me! Of course I am Leo.”
“Of course you are.” Shane rolled his eyes. “In that case, we need to celebrate.”
“We celebrate by sleeping twenty more minutes.” Ilya shut his eyes again.
Shane ducked under the covers, kissing down Ilya’s chest, biting the waistband of Ilya’s shorts, pressing his lips to Ilya’s thighs.
“That works too.” Ilya moaned, running his hands through Shane’s hair.
Shane kept kissing, but his mind was elsewhere. Had he known today was Ilya’s birthday, he would’ve moved heaven and earth. He would have booked a Michelin-starred chef to make them gourmet tuna melts. He would’ve rented a loon, just to scare the shit out of Ilya so the two men could laugh it off. He might even have flown in a woman—yes, a woman—and offered to have a threesome.
“Wait,” Shane said, his voice muffled by the covers. “I have an idea.”
“Hollander, you give me blue balls for my birthday?” Ilya groaned. “Shitty gift.”
“No. It’s just—I want to—” Shane tossed the covers behind his head, sitting up. “Can we…call Svetlana?”
“Svetlana? Why?” Ilya frowned. After yesterday, how could Shane still want him to marry a woman? And to tell him this today? Shane wouldn’t do that…would he?
“You said she likes me, right?” Shane asked.
“Not just likes.” Ilya rubbed his eyes. “She loves you. Especially your hands.”
“These hands?” Shane gripped Ilya’s thighs.
Ilya bit his lip. “You turned on by women now, Hollander?”
“Well, I’m turned on by you. And I’m turned on by what turns you on. And because it’s your birthday, I’d kind of like to…fuck her. With you. If you’re open to that, that is.”
Ilya blinked. He said nothing.
“If you don’t want that, I understa—”
“I want,” Ilya interrupted. “And I fucking love you, you know that?” He clasped Shane’s jaw and pulled Shane close for a kiss. Then he sprang out of bed. “Happy birthday to meeeee!”
It was almost too easy to book a private helicopter. And Svetlana had been almost too eager. Ilya made Shane do the talking when they called, and Shane assumed he’d have to talk Svetlana into it. Instead, she immediately took the reins, to the point that Shane wondered if this had been her plan all along.
“The famous Jane,” Svetlana said over the phone. “It may be Ilya’s birthday, but I think I’m more excited to see you.”
Shane’s chest swelled. Was it pride he was feeling—pride that she wanted him? Svetlana suddenly seemed like another one of his and Ilya’s competitions: Trying to be her favorite would be a test of skill, and once again, they’d turn themselves on as they fought. Even better, Svetlana seemed to fully understand her role in their dynamic and enjoy it. No strings, no romance—she was only here to bring Shane and Ilya closer together, and she relished that just as much as they did.
“Only one condition,” Shane said. “You’ll need to be blindfolded on the way, so our location stays a secret.”
“How dare you make this even hotter, Mr. Hollander?” she purred.
Shane was curious about her, more curious than he’d ever been about a woman. The feelings were confusing, especially considering he had only recently felt like he sat at a six on the Kinsey scale. He wondered if he should have suggested a random app hookup with Ilya instead. But he knew Svetlana could keep their secret, and besides, Ilya loved her. She would probably stay in their lives forever, just as Rose would. Shane might as well make the best of it and make his man happy at the same time.
From the way Ilya had described Svetlana, she did sound like someone Shane might actually like.
The helicopter landed in the middle of the street. Svetlana climbed down the ladder, moving effortlessly despite wearing a tight black dress and stilettos.
Both men watched her from the doorway—still shirtless, as they’d been all day, per Ilya’s request. Ilya wanted Svetlana dressed to the nines with them in basketball shorts. (”For power dynamic,” he’d explained. “Svetlana likes this.”)
“She’s doing that…blindfolded?” Shane asked.
Ilya nodded, a coy smile on his face. “She is tough. You will see.”
Svetlana walked away from the noise of the copter, arms outstretched to determine which way to walk. Shane approached, threading his arm through her elbow, resting his palm on her back, and escorting her toward the front door. Her posture straightened.
“I’d know those hands anywhere,” she said. Shane beamed and felt himself swell.
They made their way toward one of the spare bedrooms, Ilya walking behind them, grinning like a schoolboy.
“Two perfect asses.” Ilya rubbed his hands together like he was looking at a dinner table. “Lucky, lucky me.”
Svetlana kneeled on the mattress, somehow sitting perfectly centered despite not being able to see. She tilted her chin up at the men, revealing a black ribbon choker around her neck.
“You can take off your blindfold now,” Shane said, immediately sensing he was being too polite.
Svetlana shook her head. “Maybe for round two. For round one, let’s keep it. And Ilya, can you tie me?”
She held both hands behind her back and cocked her head to the side. Ilya stepped forward and reached behind her neck, untying the silky ribbon, then wrapping it around her wrists.
“She likes this,” Ilya said to Shane, then turned back toward her. “Svetlana, thank you for coming.”
“Don’t thank me until both of you are coming,” she snapped. “Now. Where should we begin?”
“I know you want to start with Shane,” Ilya shrugged.
“I do,” Svetlana smiled.
Shane approached the bed, looking back at Ilya. Ilya bit his lip, dropped his shorts to the ground, and began stroking himself.
Shane was hard in seconds. He took off his shorts, then slid Svetlana’s dress up over her head, looping it behind her arms until he’d freed it from her wrists. She was topless underneath, her nipples firm, and wore a black thong that Shane suddenly felt compelled to take off with his teeth—just to show Ilya he could.
Sensing Shane near her, Svetlana lurched forward and began kissing his chest. She sucked his nipples voraciously, like they were little pieces of chocolate, and she hadn’t eaten in days, then kissed her way down his chest just as Shane had done to Ilya this morning.
Svetlana bent forward to get to his dick, folded almost in half, and her mouth was so soft and small—much smaller than his boyfriend’s. He was hard nonetheless, his cock throbbing beneath his briefs as she kissed it through the cotton. He wanted her to take it. But with that mouth, would it even fit?
Shane looked up at Ilya, locating his green eyes. For a moment, Shane had almost forgotten he was being watched, but Ilya clearly hadn’t looked anywhere besides directly at Shane this whole time. Shane started grinding against Svetlana’s mouth, making her gasp, hungry for more. Ilya’s hand kept the same steady pace on his own cock: up and down, up and down.
Shane kept grinding, watching Ilya’s face contort into that look of lust that meant he was close. Ilya swallowed hard, then said with force: “Let her suck it. Now.”
“Say please.” Shane grinned.
“Please,” Ilya and Svetlana said in unison.
Shane pulled his briefs down, popping out against Svetlana’s cheek. She wrapped her lips around him like he was an oxygen tank, then took almost all of him with ease.
“You are tough,” Shane said.
“Enough!” Ilya lurched forward. “My turn.”
“Slow down, birthday boy.” Svetlana pulled her mouth back off Shane’s dick, licking her lips. “I’m not done with your man yet. But I do have an idea.”
Svetlana kicked her knees out from under her until she was lying flat atop the mattress, hands still bound underneath her. Shane kneeled by her head while Ilya approached her feet. He began running his hands along Svetlana’s body, starting at her legs and moving up. He cupped her tits softly, giving her goosebumps, then lowered himself to suck them, making eye contact with Shane as he put each in his mouth. Shane felt a wave. He was close.
“They speak French in Canada, yes?” Svetlana asked in breathy words.
“Oui,” Ilya said, tongue still on her tit.
“Then let’s go to Paris,” she moaned, arching her back.
Shane glanced at Ilya, not understanding.
“She wants to see the Eiffel Tower,” Ilya clarified with a wink. He took charge then, rotating Svetlana so her head hung off the side of the bed, and moving Shane to the floor to follow.
Ilya tossed Shane a pillow.
“For your knees,” he said, then grabbed two more pillows and put them under Svetlana’s ass. “Who knew, Shane? All your pillows. They come in handy.”
Shane felt his cock harden, the way it always did when Ilya talked shit to him. Svetlana must have noticed because she sucked harder, moving back and forth on his dick until she gagged. Ilya, meanwhile, steadied himself between Svetlana’s legs. He pulled the black thong to the side, too hurried to take it off entirely, then entered her.
“If she’s on her back, I don’t think this counts as an Eiffel To—”
“Shut up, Shane,” Ilya interrupted, causing Shane’s dick to twitch.
Ilya gently thrusted into Svetlana, and she moaned. The sound waves vibrated at the back of her throat, creating a whole new sensation on Shane’s cock, which in turn made Shane moan. Ilya stared straight ahead, watching the most important person in his life facefuck the second most important person in his life—while his cock was inside her, too, no less. He felt like he was fucking Shane through an apparatus, pleasuring Svetlana at the same time.
They rocked back and forth, each pump from Ilya sending chills up Shane’s spine. Their eyes stayed locked, Svetlana between them. Shane almost fell over with bliss, then reached forward to steady himself, resting his hand on Svetlana’s tits.
She moaned.
“Grab it, Shane,” she moaned, her words stifled by his cock. “Harder.”
Ilya nodded, as if permitting him. “If she says grab her, then grab her.”
Ilya’s chest gleamed, each pec pulsing. Shane moaned. This was for Ilya. All for him. And that made it—the warmth and wetness of Svetlana’s mouth, the thought of Ilya inside her cunt—even better.
“I’m going to—” Shane said.
“Me too,” Ilya replied.
“Mmmpph,” Svetlana said, her mouth filled with Shane.
And somehow they all came together, each person clenching and pulsing into another; Shane and Ilya’s eyes locked.
They lay, bodies slicked with sweat, Svetlana between the men. Ilya untied her wrists while Shane removed her blindfold. Now that he could see her whole face, Shane was shocked by how beautiful she was, and he found himself already excited that she’d mentioned going again. Shane was proud of himself—not just for being open-minded, but for being a really fucking good boyfriend.
“That was fun,” Ilya said. “We will have to do it again for my actual birthday.”
Shane and Svetlana glared at him.
“What is problem?” Ilya shrugged. “I am clearly Scorpio.”
Shane rolled his eyes, then glanced at Svetlana.
“Wanna start round two without him?” Shane asked.
“And finish it.” She nodded. “Let’s go.”
❤️💜💙 Moments like this are some of my favorite parts of being bi.
The way I just came from TikTok 🫶🏻