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“Shane, get your ass up, we're going to a party tonight,” Rose says, barging into their dorm at 9 pm.
Shane groans, sitting up from where he was tucked into bed already asleep.
“Ugh, do I have to go? I’m tired,” Shane frowns.
“Bitch, it’s 9 pm on a Saturday, and the semester hasn’t even started yet,” Rose rolls her eyes, digging through her closet to pick an outfit.
“I had early morning practice," Shane whines, pulling the blanket over his head.
“Get up!” Rose yanks the blanket off again. “We both need to get laid.”
“Let me guess, Svetlana is going to be there?” Shane huffs, running a hand over his exhausted face.
“Yes and I need my wingman, now get up!” Rose laughs, switching her t-shirt out for a much more revealing tank top.
Shane realizes he has no choice but to get out of bed. He quickly changes out of his pajamas into a simple pair of jeans and a plain t-shirt.
He chokes down a shot of vodka, deciding he needs to be at least tipsy before he can bear to stand around awkwardly in a room full of people he doesn’t know. He hates parties, hates having to make small talk with people he has no intention of talking to again.
The party is at Svetlana's apartment that’s not too far from campus. Rose has had a lingering crush on the other girl since they first crossed paths during freshman orientation week. Shane, being her best friend and room mate, has to constantly witness the endless pining.
“Rose, you made it!” Svetlana exclaims when they walk in the door. She immediately comes over to pull Rose into a hug.
The two have definitely become good friends over the years, but Rose has yet to take it to make it to the next level.
“Shane, you’re here too!” She grins, ushering them both inside.
It’s not too crowded currently, maybe twenty or so people hanging around, drinking and chatting. There’s a girl Shane has never met before standing in the corner behind a table with an entire DJ booth set up.
“You guys have to meet my good friend from home, Ilya!” Svetlana drags Shane and Rose over to the table.
She’s super tall is the first thing Shane notices. Her knee high chunky platform boots also give her at least another 3 inches of height. She’s completely entranced in whatever she’s doing with the music mixing, making the place feel more like a techno club than a house party. She’s moving to the beat of the song, her long blonde curls cascading down her back.
“Ilya!” Svetlana shouts, snapping in her face to grab her attention. “This is Rose and Shane. Guys, meet Ilya. She is doing an exchange year. We grew up together in Moscow.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Shane says, extending his hand for a handshake like a nerd.
The girl looks down at him, smirks and then finally shakes his hand.
“Nice to meet you,” Ilya responds in her noticeable Russian accent.
“I love your skirt!” Rose chimes in.
“Thanks,” Ilya says bluntly, returning to her laptop.
“Don’t mind her, she can be a bit of an asshole. But it’s all an act,” Svetlana chuckles and leads them into the kitchen for more drinks.
Thirty minutes later Svetlana and Rose have wandered off somewhere, leaving Shane to sip his ginger ale on the couch alone.
The volume of intense techno beats and frantic Russian lyrics is turned down slightly. Shane glances up to see Ilya abandon the DJ stand, walk into the kitchen and return with a whole bottle of vodka.
Shane can’t help but stare at the way she walks with such confidence, like she owns every room she enters. The buckles on her boots jangle with every forceful step.
Ilya walks over with her bottle and sits down right next to Shane. She leans forward slightly, openly staring at Shane’s face which must be bright red, and not just from the alcohol.
“What is your name again?” She asks, popping the bottle open and taking a swig.
Shane stares in bewilderment at the lack of any mixer or chaser.
“Uh, Shane. Shane Hollander,” he says stupidly.
“You are cute, Shane Hollander,” Ilya says, dragging out each syllable of his name.
“Oh, um thanks?” He asks, suddenly feeling nervous under the intense gaze of her blue eyes, framed by dark eye makeup.
“Come with me, we are going outside to smoke,” Ilya stands up, suddenly grabbing Shane by the hand and dragging her towards the front door.
“Oh, um I don’t smoke,” Shane says, but still allowing herself to be led back downstairs and outside to the street.
“Hmmm, so boring, so Canadian,” Ilya rolls her eyes.
“I’m an athlete, I play hockey for the school,” Shane explains.
They walk around the block to the little park behind the building. Ilya sits down on a bench and pulls out a half empty, crushed pack of cigarettes from her bra.
“Don’t just stand there, sit down,” Ilya demands as she lights her cigarette.
“So, um how do you like Montreal so far?” Shane asks, surprised by how willing he is to make conversation for once.
“Canada is boring, but I am thinking maybe it is worth it now,” Ilya shrugs, taking a long drag of the cigarette.
“Do you miss Russia?”
“Eh.” Is all Ilya says, letting the cigarette dangle loosely between two of her long fingers.
Shane doesn’t know what else to say, so he just watches as Ilya smokes the cigarette down to nothing. She tosses the butt onto the ground and stomps it out.
“You shouldn’t litter,” Shane says, inwardly cringing at how nerdy he sounds.
“Oh polite little Canadian boy says I can’t throw cigarette on ground,” Ilya snorts but still reaches down to pick up the cigarette butt.
There’s no trash can around so she tucks it into her bra along with her lighter and the rest of the cigarettes.
“What, do you see my outfit? It has no pockets!” Ilya exclaims when she notices Shane staring.
“Huh? Oh sorry, I didn't mean to stare. I just am amazed at how much stuff you can carry around,” Shane hopes the darkness of the night can hide how red his cheeks are.
“One day I think I might make them bigger, what is it called- ah implants,” Ilya grins, bringing her hands up to grab at her own tits.
“Um, I think they look good as is,” Shane says, because he doesn’t know what else to say in response to a girl he just met telling him about wanting to get breast implants.
“You have never considered for yourself?” She laughs teasingly.
“Hah! No, um I did the opposite actually,” Shane chuckles, referring to his top surgery he got a year ago.
“Let’s go back inside, you are not drunk enough,” Ilya declares, once again grabbing Shane by the hand to lead him back into the building.
“I don’t really like to drink that much,” Shane says, watching warily as Ilya struts into the kitchen, grabbing a different bottle of vodka from the freezer.
“You’re in for a treat, this is the good shit from Russia. Come, we can’t let people see. It’s only for us,” Ilya smirks, dragging Shane down the hallway to what must be her bedroom.
The room isn’t fully decorated, considering the semester has just started and Ilya must’ve just moved here. But the room seems to match the girl’s entire aesthetic. There’s a whole shelf filled with records of artists Shane doesn’t even recognize. The wall is a collage of band posters and random images.
Ilya sits on the bed and pulls Shane down to force him to sit so close to her their thighs are pressed together.
“I can’t just drink straight vodka,” Shane says, watching as Ilya takes another big swig, savoring it in her mouth.
“This is not whatever bullshit you people call vodka over here. Trust me,” Ilya grins.
Shane sighs and accepts the bottle. He watches Ilya from the corner of his eye as he takes a much bigger gulp than he intended to.
“Shane Hollander, don’t you dare spit that out,” Ilya suddenly is grabbing onto his jaw, forcing intense eye contact, as if mind controlling him to force down the burning liquid.
“Gah- that’s still bad!” Shane gasps, sputtering after the liquor burns in his chest.
“You are a baby,” Ilya shakes her head, taking the bottle from him, taking one last sip before setting it down on the bedside table.
Shane feels the alcohol hit him almost immediately. He feels hot all over and his head is all floaty.
“Aw, your face is red like tomato,” Ilya smiles, hand coming up to hold Shane’s face.
“It’s the alcohol. They call it Asian flush,” Shane insists. At least that’s what he tells himself and not that it’s because of the close attention from the coolest, hottest girl he’s ever seen.
“It’s cute,” Ilya says. “Can I kiss you, Shane Hollander?”
Shane can’t really think straight right now, but it has nothing to do with the alcohol. So he finds himself nodding enthusiastically.
Ilya’s leaning in and pressing the slowest, most tender kiss to Shane’s lips. Her mouth is soft and tastes like cigarettes and that god awful vodka.
Ilya’s hand slides further to grab at the back of Shane’s head to deepen the kiss. Shane’s lips part and a desperate little sound escapes his throat. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, but somehow they end up resting on Ilya’s thighs. He gently rubs his thumb on the edge of her skirt.
Ilya’s fingers continue running through the short hairs at the base of Shane’s skull as she basically licks into his open mouth. He faintly registers the steady vibrations of the music still blasting in the living room.
Ilya’s other hand slides inside his shirt, fingers running up and down his hard earned abs. It makes him shiver and dive into their kiss with renewed hunger.
Just as Shane finds the confidence to slide his own hand just an inch higher on Ilya’s thigh the door swings open.
“Oh! Sorry, for interrupting,” Sevtlana grins, but doesn’t leave right away. “We got a noise complaint. I don’t know how to work all your fancy equipment, so you need to turn the music down.”
“Huh, noise complaint came in sooner than I expected, is still early,” Ilya pouts, standing up and smoothing out her skirt. She walks out of the room, leaving behind a very flustered Shane.
Shane stands and follows like an idiot. The party has mostly cleared out despite it not even being midnight yet. Svetlana has returned to her room, and Shane thinks he can hear Rose in there too if he really listens.
So that just leaves Shane standing around awkwardly, watching Ilya fiddle with the speakers and several buttons.
“So, um you like music?” Shane asks, wanting to beat himself up for how stupid he sounds.
“Yes,” Ilya says bluntly, switching the music to a much more chill, lofi sounding beat.
Shane suddenly notices how dazed he feels. He’s not sure whether it’s from the alcohol or the bold girl who just kissed him senseless. Either way he needs to go into the kitchen to try and regain his composure. He quickly splashes his face with water and takes a long drink from the faucet.
“Ok, is all taken care of,” Ilya says, strolling in to press against Shane’s back casually.
Shane turns around, looking up at Ilya’s face that is now only centimeters away from his own.
“Can I continue what I started?” She asks, looking down at his lips hungrily.
Shane nods slowly and feels any ounce of composure he may have had leaving once more.
Ilya is a very good kisser. Not that Shane’s really been with that many people to compare with, but no one has reduced him to a breathless, horny mess in five seconds.
Ilya steps back for a second to pull her shirt over her head, tossing it without a care. She completely ignores the fact that they’re in the kitchen where anyone could walk in and see.
Shane can’t help but stare at the subtle swell of her chest tucked into a dainty lace bra. Shane’s never really been attracted to femmes before, but Ilya is absolutely stunning. The delicate curve of her waist, the smooth expanse of pale skin is so explicitly feminine, and ever so tantalizing.
“You too?” She asks when he is frozen for just a moment too long.
“Oh, um sure,” Shane says awkwardly, scrambling to pull off his own shirt.
He’s relieved when it seems that Ilya likes what she sees. She brings a hand up to trace up and down the lines of his muscled torso. Then she leans down and grins before licking along his slightly faded top surgery scars.
Ilya’s hand finds its way inside Shane jeans and boxers to where he’s soaking wet and aching to be touched. Shane gasps into her mouth when her fingers immediately find his rock hard clit.
Ilya’s grinning into their kiss as she shifts her hand lower, two fingers easily entering him. Shane bites his lip hard to prevent an audible moan from escaping. He’s so turned on it almost hurts.
He automatically starts grinding into Ilya’s touch, sighing at the sensation of her fingers moving in and out of him. The range of movement is restricted by his pants, but Ilya manages to fuck him with her fingers, her palm rubbing against his clit with every thrust.
Shane tucks his face into her shoulder to muffle his panting. It’s only made harder to keep quiet when he feels the press of something hard against his hip as Ilya grinds into him, never stopping the motions of her hand.
“You like girl dick?” Ilya whispers into his ear.
Shane nods rapidly and Ilya is licking a wet hot stripe all the way from his shoulder to the sensitive spot behind his ear. That’s enough to send him over the edge.
He keeps his eyes open and observes Ilya’s mirrored expression of pleasure as his orgasm washes over his body.
Shane is still breathless and panting when they are interrupted once more.
“Ilya! No sex in the kitchen, we talked about this! Also your bedroom is literally right there!” Svetlana shakes her head, sighing in exasperation.
“Ugh, Sveta, you did not tell me Canada would be so boring. Music off at 12, no sex in kitchen, what’s next?” Ilya rolls her eyes but still, regrettably, removes her hand from Shane’s pants.
Shane is a whole new shade of red, he scrambles to grab his shirt off the ground and pull it back over his head. Svetlana gives them both a wink and walks back into the living room.
“Shit, that was so hot,” Shane blurts out, the horniness overpowering the embarrassment of being walked in on mid orgasm. “Um, wait did you come?”
“Yes, now you owe me a new pair of underwear. These were nice ones too,” Ilya laughs.
She grabs Shane’s hand and guides it under her skirt to feel her softened cock through the soaked fabric of her underwear.
Rose suddenly appears, leaning heavily against the doorframe.
“Shane, I think I’m gonna go home for the night,” she slurs, eyes half closed.
Shane quickly moves to catch his friend before she falls.
“Shit, I better get her home,” Shane says, trying his best to ignore just how uncomfortably soaked his boxers are now. “Um, I’ll see you around?”
“Goodnight, Shane,” Ilya grins, slipping something into his pocket and walks out of the kitchen.
Shane doesn’t have time to process what just happened, and instead focus on getting a very drunk Rose home safely.
“I really like Svetlana, but I think she might have something going on with her new roommate Ilya,” Rose sighs when she’s a little more coherent and tucked into bed. “I dunno I just get so nervous…”
Shane chuckles at that as he starts getting himself ready for bed now. Something falls out of his pocket when he pulls his pants off. He bends down to pick it up and finds that it’s a cigarette with a phone number written on it.
“I don’t think you have to worry about Ilya,” Shane smiles, placing the cigarette delicately inside his desk drawer.
“Ok, that makes me feel better,” Rose mutters, already half asleep.