Chapter Text
DECEMBER 2008, REGINA
WORLD JUNIOR HOCKEY CHAMPIONSHIP
Shane didn’t say anything as he approached Rozanov. He hadn’t been sure what to expect from Rozanov. His reputation would lead Shane to believe that he would spit on Shane before he would lend a hand to him. But Shane had heard that about so many people, and he just refused to believe it. People could be entirely different on and off the ice.
Rozanov was trying to light a cigarette, but it was windy and the spark wouldn’t catch. As Rozanov caught sight of him, he began lowering the lighter as if he expected Shane to scold him for it.
Shane continued to keep his mouth shut, and just stuck a hand into his jacket pocket and held his arm out so he could block the wind for Rozanov. Rozanov eyed him critically before continuing to try to light his cigarette.
Shane took the time to study Rozanov’s face. They were close enough that Shane could smell the laundry detergent Rozanov used, the smell of his deodorant. He had strong features: the eyebrows, the cheekbones, the arch in his lips. His hair was curly and poking out of the bottom of his hat, and he had moles all over his face and neck. His face looked like one of those statues of Greek Gods carved from marble.
“Ilya Rozanov, right?” Shane wanted to confirm. He couldn’t imagine he was wrong, but he could be. “I’ve been wanting to meet you.”
“Big fan?” Rozanov asked dryly. The corner of Shane’s mouth edged up.
“I guess you could say that.” Shane shrugged a shoulder. “You’re an amazing player to watch.”
“Yes.”
Shane couldn’t help but smile. He let his eyes trace up and down Rozanov’s figure, taking in how large he was even without the hockey padding. He had a good, what, five inches on Shane? And a good bit of weight on him too. As Shane let his eyes trace up his torso, his eyes caught on the cigarette in Rozanov’s hand as it went to his lips.
Rozanov’s lips were quirked in amusement, and Shane let their eyes reconnect. Rozanov had been watching Shane check him out the whole time. Not that Shane minded–He had never cared about being subtle.
As the sun rose, the light shifted until a beam of light flickered over Rozanov’s face. Shane tilted his head.
“Your eyes are blue,” He observed, “I didn’t know that.”
“Enjoying the view, Hollander?” Rozanov asked.
“Well.” Shane did a once-over again, lingering on the curve of Rozanov’s upper lip. “No complaints so far.”
“You will not be so flirty when we beat you.” Rozanov said. His voice was straight, to the point.
“Good luck.” Shane’s smile didn’t drop, but he let his gaze drop to Rozanov’s lips as he took another drag on his cigarette.
“Hm.”
Shane turned from Rozanov and walked away.
Rozanov had been strangely unpredictable to Shane, and he was excited. Neither of them had said a single word to each other as they stared each other down for the puck each time, and normally Rozanov would be launching a constant verbal barrage against them.
This time, he was silent as he and Shane were locked in a silent battle with each other.
The loss was humiliating, but Shane had never felt challenged like this. Rozanov had been stunning, inspiring such doom in every swipe of his stick. He was a force on the ice, even his mere presence on the playing field made everyone play differently.
Shane was disappointed to lose, but he also felt like this was the best hockey game he had played in his life.
Shane just went for a smile as he shook Rozanov’s hand, and Rozanov told him.
“See you at the draft.”
“You played well.” Shane winked at him. He could see the dozens of cameras flashing at him, but he didn’t particularly care.
JUNE 2009, LOS ANGELES
NHL DRAFT
Shane dropped to the floor panting and Rozanov sat across from him. Shane, like an idiot, had not brought a water bottle with him, so he was jealous as Rozanov took a swig.
“What a fucking day, huh?” Rozanov asked him.
“It could’ve gone better.” Shane said.
“Sorry.” Rozanov did not look too sorry. In fact, his grin seemed to imply the exact opposite.
“No you’re not.” Shane stretched out a leg to rest a foot on Rozanov’s shoe. His eyes were focused on that water bottle, and he nodded his head towards it. “Can I have some?”
Rozanov handed it over and watched as Shane took a long drink.
“Thanks, I owe you one.”
Rozanov’s fingers were warm where they brushed against Shane’s.
“We will be seeing each other a lot,” Rozanov said, “Boston and Montreal play against each other often, no?”
“Yeah.” Shane confirmed. Rozanov took a drink of his water, and Shane traced the outline of his arms with his eyes. The sweat glistening on his skin made Shane’s mouth dry, and he liked seeing that Rozanov’s moles continued down his arms as well.
“You travel here with your parents?” Rozanov asked.
“They’re staying across the hall from me.” Shane said.
“Hm.” Rozanov hummed. His eyes stayed on Shane’s foot touching his own. “I’m on different floor than my agent.”
“How’d you manage that?”
“Mix-up with hotel. They are incompetent.”
“Must be quiet,” Shane said, “Were you heading to bed soon?”
“I think so.”
“I should probably turn in as well.” Shane pried himself up off the ground with an old-man groan. He headed over to the door and held it open. “Coming?”
Rozanov took the lead down the hallway and to the elevator. Shane entered after him and hovered near the buttons.
“What floor?”
“Ten.”
Shane pressed the button for ten, and no others. He stepped away and leaned against the elevator railing. Rozanov just looked at him, and Shane just looked back.
When the elevator door opened again, Rozanov gestured for him to exit first. As he did, Rozanov followed close behind, his breath skating over the back of Shane’s neck.
“To the left. Ten-twelve.” Rozanov told him.
Shane followed his instruction, and Rozanov trailed close behind. Both of their footsteps were whisper quiet, and Shane was more than tempted to check to make sure Rozanov was behind him. He didn’t, though, and the anticipation building in his gut made Shane shivery with delight. He wondered if Rozanov was looking at his ass. Actually, he’d better be, with how much Shane was exaggerating his hips moving. He’d be offended if Rozanov weren’t looking.
At room 1012, Shane came to a stop and leaned against the wall next to the door. Rozanov swiped his keycard and entered his room, and Shane followed him inside, let the door click shut behind him.
Rozanov’s gaze was intense, burning through him. He crowded Shane against the door, his gaze searching as his hands came up to land on Shane’s hips. Excitement and anticipation swirled in Shane’s stomach as he lifted his hands to Rozanov’s waistband, trailed his fingers under his shirt.
“You have been with men before?” Rozanov asked him.
“I’ve only ever been with men,” Shane told him, “You?”
“I’ve been with both.” A slight smirk on Rozanov’s lips. “This should be no problem, then.”
Shane wasted no time dropping to his knees, pulling Rozanov’s shorts down to his thighs. His cock was deliciously long and thick, and it was only getting longer as Rozanov hardened under his gaze.
Shane licked his lips and looked up at Rozanov, priding in the heat in Rozanov’s eyes. With delicate hands, Shane caressed Rozanov’s shaft, bringing it to his lips to give a kiss to the head. He trailed kisses down the shaft before sucking one of Rozanov’s balls into his mouth.
“Oh, fuck, Hollander–” Rozanov gasped, his fingers finding their way to Shane’s hair. His forehead rested against the door with a thunk.
Rozanov tasted like sweat, like musk, and Shane was greedy for more. He kissed and licked his way over Rozanov’s inner thighs, over his pelvis and hips, before he returned to give another kiss to the head of Rozanov’s cock.
“You fucking tease.” Rozanov hissed, pulled Shane up from his knees. Shane’s mouth was taken over by Rozanov’s, and Shane let himself be struck dumb by Rozanov’s talented tongue dancing over his teeth.
Rozanov hustled them over to the bed without breaking the kiss. Both of them were furiously trying to shuck their shorts and underwear off, the kiss only interrupted when Shane pulled at Rozanov’s shirt until he finally took it off. Shane pushed him back onto the bed, and Rozanov kicked his clothes off the rest of the way.
Shane took off his shirt, folding it before putting it to the side. Rozanov looked at him with irritation and amusement as Shane did the same with his shorts.
“You have to do that now?” Rozanov asked.
“Yes.” Shane told him simply.
He knew Rozanov was watching closely as Shane dragged his underwear down his thighs before he stepped out of them and folded them neatly. Rozanov’s thighs inched open just a bit more, and Shane grinned.
He kneeled on the bed, got both of his hands between Rozanov’s knees and spread them wider. He fit his torso between his thighs and leaned forward to get Rozanov’s lips on his again. Rozanov was an infuriatingly good kisser, and Shane refused to deny himself the pleasure of Rozanov sucking on his tongue.
Shane kissed his way down Rozanov’s neck, his chest, the thick hair on his pelvis, until he was peppering kisses on Rozanov’s shaft once more. Rozanov groaned and propped himself up on his elbows to see Shane laving attention on his thick cock. Shane could’ve taken him into his mouth, bobbed his head until Rozanov was shooting down his throat, but Shane liked this.
Rozanov’s skin was silky smooth under Shane’s lips, the smell and taste of his sweat making Shane’s skin tingle. Shane kept eye contact with Rozanov as he pressed wet kisses to the underside of his shaft, lapped at the head and gave it a kiss too.
“You’re killing me,” Rozanov groaned, “I thought you knew how to suck dick, not–whatever this is.”
“I can stop.” Shane said amiably, releasing Rozanov’s cock from his grip.
“Don’t piss me off.” Rozanov’s eye flashed, and Shane only had a second to think before Rozanov was flipping them over, moving Shane up the bed so he was reclining on the pillows.
Rozanov planted his knees on either side of Shane’s ears, his cock coming down to bob against Shane’s lips. Shane knew his cock was dripping with precum at this point, but he didn’t touch himself yet. His throat was practically aching with how much he craved Rozanov filling his mouth and taking what he wanted.
Rozanov was cursing in Russian as he fed his cock into Shane’s mouth, all nine inches sinking in easily until Shane’s nose was buried in the hair at the base of his cock. Rozanov had the biggest dick of anyone Shane had ever slept with, but Shane couldn’t feel even an ounce of discomfort as Rozanov pulled his hips back just to slowly push back into Shane’s mouth.
“Such a tease. Such a slut.” Rozanov crooned. Shane’s eyes fluttered as he tried to look up at Rozanov’s face. “You wanted this, hm? Wanted me to choke you on my cock? You could’ve just asked.”
Shane moaned around Rozanov’s cock. He was right: Shane was a slut, and he had never felt as filled as right now with the head of Rozanov’s cock hitting the back of his throat. Shane’s gag reflex had long been trained away, but Rozanov was ravaging spots in Shane’s throat that had never been reached before. The urge to gag was quickly becoming an issue, but Shane suppressed it as well as he could.
Rozanov picked up speed, one of his hands going to Shane’s hair to grip him and keep him in place. Shane was barely drawing in enough breath when Rozanov drew back, only for it to leave him in a huff when Rozanov thrusted back in. He could feel his throat fluttering around the head of Rozanov’s cock, and he knew Rozanov could feel it too.
“Having a hard time, Hollander?” Rozanov teased, “Poor thing. You need a break?”
Rozanov began withdrawing from Shane’s mouth, and Shane made a protesting noise. He strained to get his shoulders up off the bed so he could chase Rozanov’s cock, refusing to let it leave from between his lips. His hands came up to Rozanov’s ass, holding him where he was. Rozanov’s stupid smug smile grew larger.
“I knew it.”
Rozanov went against Shane’s wishes and fully pulled out of his mouth. Before Shane could protest, Rozanov yanked him down the bed so Shane’s head rested flat on the mattress. Rozanov’s thighs spread even wider, one of his hands going to the mattress above Shane's head while the other went to Shane’s hair, encouraging him to open up even wider.
There was something so humiliating about being in this position: Laying flat on his back, his arms curled around Rozanov’s hips while Rozanov drove himself into Shane’s mouth like Shane didn’t need to breathe, like his jaw wasn’t hurting already. Shane could barely see through the tears welling up in his eyes at how hard he was trying not to gag, but he could see Rozanov’s dazed eyes, the sweat dripping down his face.
Shane didn’t think he had ever been this turned on in his life. His knees drew up, rubbing together just to give himself just the barest hint of friction. He needed to be touched so badly, but he couldn’t bring himself to let go of Rozanov’s hips. He felt like if he did, he would drown, fall backwards through the bed.
“Fuck!” Rozanov spat out.
Rozanov’s grip on his hair was starting to hurt, and his strokes were turning into short ones, ones that barely let Rozanov’s cock draw out of his throat before he was thrusting back in. His hair tickled at Shane’s nose, the skin between his hips pressing down on his nose repeatedly.
Rozanov pushed in, and came deep in Shane’s throat, so deep he didn’t even need to swallow. Shane’s eyes finally shut, preening as Rozanov raked his fingers through Shane’s hair, as Rozanov pulsed himself in and out of Shane’s throat a few more times before fully withdrawing.
Rozanov rolled off of him to the side, saying something to Shane that Shane couldn’t comprehend right now. All Shane could focus on was trying to catch his breath, trying to get his heartbeat under control, trying to keep himself from coming, untouched, on the spot.
“Hollander?” Rozanov’s hand patted at his stomach.
“Hm?” Shane’s eyes opened slowly, looking hazily at Rozanov.
“You did not hear me.” Rozanov’s face was unreadable as his hand traced up Shane’s chest until he was cupping the side of his neck.
“What’d you say?” Shane asked, his eyes slipping closed again.
Rozanov was quiet for a second, observing him. Shane knew he probably had drool and who knows what else slicking his lips and the bottom half of his face. His lips were probably cherry red, as well as his face. Rozanov shifted on the bed, getting between Shane’s thighs and lifting them onto his shoulders.
Shane let out a strangled moan as Rozanov enveloped Shane’s cock into his throat. He wasn’t going to last long, although he wanted to. Rozanov's fingers were inching towards Shane’s ass, but he didn’t have a chance to tease him there before Shane was coming down his throat with a shout.
“That was fast.” Rozanov mused, planting a kiss on Shane’s stomach before dragging himself up to lay beside Shane.
Shane, uncaring and unembarrassed, rolled to the side and draped an arm over Rozanov’s torso, lay his cheek on Rozanov’s shoulder. They were quiet, catching their breaths, before Rozanov began to shift on the bed.
“It’s getting late.” Rozanov commented. Shane knew it was probably a segway to kicking him out, but he wasn’t quite done for the night.
“You can’t go again?” Shane creaked an eye open. Rozanov looked aghast.
“You came in two seconds,” Rozanov argued, “You can’t go again!”
“Give me five minutes,” Shane argued back, “I’ll be good as new.”
“I don’t know if I want to. You give shit head.”
“Sounds like I need to practice then.” Shane’s eyes glittered. “You have an early flight or something?”
Rozanov’s eyes glittered back at him. Shane knew he won when Rozanov rolled over to cover Shane’s body with his own, planting kisses down the column of his neck. Rozanov was already starting to harden again.
Rozanov captured one of Shane’s nipples between his teeth, and Shane moaned. He reached up to get his fingers in Rozanov’s hair, and pet the golden curls there. He still felt overwhelmed from his orgasm, and Rozanov’s warm mouth on his chest made him shiver and twitch.
“I thought you said you’d be good as new?” Rozanov asked him, his hand ghosting over Shane’s still-limp dick.
“Has it been five minutes, asshole?” Shane asked, hissing as Rozanov curled a finger and dragged it down his shaft. “Just give me a second!”
Rozanov laughed, and gave Shane’s chest one last kiss before urging Shane up so he could switch their positions. Shane was now laying between Rozanov’s thighs, and Rozanov’s cock was half hard now, poking into Shane’s hip.
“Well?” Rozanov looked at him expectantly, “Get on with your practice, then.”
Shane rolled his eyes and bit at Rozanov’s lower lip before making his way down between Rozanov’s thighs. His mouth watered at the sight of Rozanov’s cock, slowly filling back out. Shane kissed the head, dipping his tongue into the slit there before kissing at the lip on the underside of his cock.
“Not this again.” Rozanov groaned, his head falling back onto the pillows.
“Shut up,” Shane told him, “If you keep bitching, I will leave.”
“Do your other lovers have small dicks? Is this why you can’t blow me properly?” Rozanov asked him.
“I like the taste of you,” Shane purred, “Now sit still.”
Rozanov sighed dramatically, and Shane greedily began mouthing all over Rozanov’s cock again. For as much as Rozanov complained, he was still looking down at Shane like he didn’t mind all that much.
Shane let his tongue hang out of his mouth, dragged the head of Rozanov’s cock back and forth over the surface of his tongue before he welcomed it into his mouth. He swirled his tongue over the head, and Rozanov moaned at the attention. Shane released the head from his mouth and placed wet, open-mouth kisses down the shaft until he was nosing at Rozanov’s sac.
He was expecting more commentary from Rozanov, but it seemed both of them were absorbed in how Shane couldn’t help himself from indulging in Rozanov’s cock. When Shane looked up at him, Rozanov was watching with his lips slightly parted, his tongue rolling over his lips as he watched with hooded eyes. Shane kept their eyes locked as he mouthed at Rozanov’s sac, layering spit and attention over them as he inhaled the scent of Rozanov’s sweat, of Rozanov’s cock.
“You like this?” Rozanov’s voice crooned to him. Shane shuddered. “You like tasting me like this?”
“Hm.” Shane hummed, let his lips drag along the underside of Rozanov’s dick as he journeyed back up to the head.
“That’s it, Hollander, take what you need.” Rozanov’s voice was taunting, teasing, and Shane could feel his own dick firming up at the words. “Be a good boy and suck me off, hm?”
Shane smirked, and took the head of Rozanov’s cock into his mouth. Rozanov continued to praise him as Shane welcomed more and more into his mouth until Rozanov was lodged deep in his throat, Shane’s nose in that familiar patch of hair above his cock.
“That’s right,” Rozanov sighed, “That’s good, that feels good….”
Rozanov trailed off at the slow realization that Shane wasn’t moving. Shane was content like this, Rozanov fully sheathed in his throat and his cockhead leaking precum down his windpipe. Shane could feel that he was fully hard now, and shifted slightly to get some relief from the mattress underneath him.
“Have you ever sucked dick before?” Rozanov scowled at him, but the only heat there was arousal. “Is this how Canadians suck dick?”
Shane couldn’t grin because of his lips being stretched around Rozanov’s cock, but he knew the self-satisfied look crept into his eyes. He tilted his head to rest against Rozanov’s thigh, let his eyes drift almost-shut while he drooled on Rozanov’s cock.
“Hollander, please,” Rozanov said, “You are going to kill me.”
Despite this, Rozanov’s hands were carding through his hair, but not gripping onto it to bob his head up and down. They seemed admiring, reverent, pulling Shane’s hair away from his face so Rozanov could get a good look at him.
Shane decided to give him just a little bit, not too much, and began pulling off until Rozanov’s cockhead was the only thing left in his mouth. Rozanov hissed as Shane sank back down, filling his throat once more.
“Yes, fuck!” Rozanov looked down at him, his arousal quickly turning to sorrow as Shane took him in all the way and stayed there. “Hollander, you… God!”
Rozanov’s head fell back onto the pillows with a groan, and Shane was disappointed that he couldn’t see his face anymore. Rozanov’s hands were still buried in his hair, one of them coming to his face to thumb at where Shane’s lips were stretched around him.
Shane let his head rest against Rozanov’s thigh again, his eyes fluttering shut as he relaxed into it. His arms snaked under Rozanov’s thighs and came around to caress his hipbones, dragging his nails softly over his skin and raising goosebumps. Rozanov groaned as Shane let his tongue flutter over the underside of his cock.
“Hollander, please,” Rozanov sighed, “This is torture.”
Shane disagreed with how much Rozanov’s cock was twitching in his throat. Rozanov was enjoying this as much as he was. But Shane’s jaw was really starting to ache at this point, and he’d have to let Rozanov come eventually.
Shane decided to be nice today, and swallowed around Rozanov’s cock. Rozanov moaned, his hands tugging on Shane’s hair as Shane drew up off his cock and then sank back down, starting a lazy pace bobbing his head up and down Rozanov’s cock.
“Just like that,” Rozanov moaned, “Yes, like that.”
Shane felt himself only getting more aroused as he pressed Rozanov’s cock in and out of his throat. Rozanov was still thumbing through his hair, letting Shane set the pace, and Shane wanted to curl up and fall asleep with Rozanov’s fingers in his hair. Shane picked up the pace, Rozanov getting louder and louder until his hips were twitching up off the bed.
For all of Rozanov’s complaining, he must have liked Shane keeping his cock warm more than he let on. In no time at all, he was spilling down Shane’s throat with a gasp, his hands running wild through Shane’s hair. Shane swallowed it all down greedily, swiping his tongue all over Rozanov’s cock to clean him up.
Shane released Rozanov’s cock from between his lips with a soft ‘pop,’ and placed one last kiss on the head before wiggling his way up to kiss at Rozanov’s chest and neck.
“Hm. Well, this has been nice.” Rozanov sighed before he started to get up, pushing Shane off of him.
“Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be?” Shane laughed. “I suck you off and you’re kicking me out?”
“Is that what you call it?” Rozanov asked. “Must have different meaning in Canada.”
“Hm, must be.” Shane eyed him up and down. He knew Rozanov wasn’t actually kicking him out, but he wanted to play along, see if he could get Rozanov riled up. “You’re right, it has been fun. I’ll see you next time, hm?”
Rozanov watched as Shane got up off the bed and stretched, his hard cock still bobbing between his legs. Shane went over to his clothes folded primly and draped over the back of a chair and started messing with them with Rozanov’s eyes glued to him.
“Yes. Fun.” Rozanov said. “Learn how to suck dick properly before you come back, yes?”
“I’ll keep you updated.” Shane shot over his shoulder.
Rozanov’s arms came around Shane’s waist, taking the shirt out of his hands and tossing it onto the chair. One hand came up to grope at Shane’s chest, the other landing on his hip. Shane shivered as Rozanov kissed and nipped at the back of his neck.
Shane didn’t resist as Rozanov steered him back over to the bed, turned Shane to face him, and pushed him back onto the bed. Shane pulled himself back to recline on the pillows, and Rozanov got his hands under Shane’s knees, pushing until they were up by his shoulders.
Shane knew what Rozanov was meaning to do, but it still shocked a moan out of him when Rozanov’s tongue covered his hole in a broad stroke. Shane’s hands sought out Rozanov’s own where they had a vice grip on Shane’s thighs. Rozanov let go with one hand, Shane’s thigh dropping to his shoulder, and guided Shane’s hand down to where his cock was hard and leaking.
“Go on. Touch yourself.” Rozanov told him, his blue eyes peeking out from around Shane’s dripping cock. “I want to see.”
Shane got a hand on himself with a groan as Rozanov returned to lapping at his hole, tracing delicate circles around it. Shane hadn’t prepared for anything to happen with his asshole tonight, but Rozanov seemed to expect that, as he didn’t let his tongue delve deeper than surface level. Just darting attention from his tongue, lips kissing at him and massaging him.
Shane knew Rozanov told him to touch himself, but if he did, he was going to explode. Shane kept it slow, thumbing at the head of his cock and just barely stroking so he could keep himself from coming on the spot.
Rozanov noticed, and waved Shane’s hand away to grip Shane’s cock himself. Shane threw his head back and moaned as Rozanov stroked him purposefully, matching pace with how his tongue danced over Shane’s hole.
“Fuck, Rozy–” Shane cut himself off with another desperate moan when Rozanov sucked lightly at his hole. “I’m gonna–”
Rozanov kept pace, stroking him and lapping at him like he couldn’t get enough. Shane tried, he really did, but he had never been good at trying to hold himself off. He came all over his stomach, Rozanov’s warm hand around him and his wet tongue playing with his hole.
Rozanov kissed his thighs, his stomach, as he made his way up to kiss Shane’s mouth. Rozanov laid next to Shane, propped up on one elbow so he could lean over and devour Shane’s mouth. He tasted like skin, like sweat, like some funk that Shane knew was his own.
Shane fumbled for the box of tissues on the bedside table and started to wipe himself off as Rozanov continued to kiss his jaw and neck. When he was clean (well, more clean than he was), Shane let himself bask in Rozanov’s affection before he forced himself up with a sigh.
“Do you always come so fast?” Rozanov teased him.
“I guess you’ll have to find out.” Shane shot him a grin and went over to his clothes. “Oh, before I forget.”
Shane unlocked his phone and went to his contacts, pressing the button to add a new one. He handed the phone to Rozanov, who looked at it before looking up at him with a smirk.
“What makes you think we will do this again?” Rozanov asked, but he was already typing away on Shane’s phone.
“Montreal and Boston play against each other a lot, remember?” Shane told him. He began to pull his clothes back on.
“Hm, yes.” Rozanov finished inputting his phone number, and now watched as Shane pulled his pants and underwear up his thighs.
Shane slipped into his shoes, and went back over to the bed to take his phone back. Rozanov’s hand came up to squeeze his ass one last time, and Shane shot him a Look.
“Have a good night.” Shane called over his shoulder and left the hotel room.
Shane grinned at the new contact in his phone, ‘Lily.’
Shane:
See you around, Lily
Lily:
I look forward to it, Jane. xoxo