Work Text:
*Hollanov Support Group Chat*
Wyatt Hayes: Ok last night was the final straw, we have to do something.
Zane Boodram: I barely got any sleep.
Troy Barrett: Were they up all night again?
Zane Boodram: Not all night, but when they were finally done I was too traumatized to sleep.
Luca Haas: It’s honestly impressive how much energy they still have after every game.
Evan Dykstra: oH MY GOD booooo you don’t have to suck up to them they aren’t in this chat
Nick Chouinard: Haas, I’m surprised you haven’t tried to join them.
Troy Barrett: Alright boys, time to put an end to this. Meeting in my room in 10 minutes.
–
Most of the Centaurs team crowded into Troy’s small hotel room. He and Wyatt had called this impromptu emergency meeting out of sheer desperation. This was the second season having Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander on the same team, and the road games had become almost unbearable. They stayed in nice hotels, but it didn’t seem to matter how thick or well insulated the walls were. Whoever had the misfortune of rooming next to the happy couple would inevitably be subjected to a horrifying cacophony of noises lasting well into the night. Moans, shouting, the occasional scream, thumping, banging, slapping, and so many other sounds that they all tried hard not to identify or think too much about. One evening after a particularly difficult game, Wyatt heard a loud thump as if someone was thrown against his wall, saw the generic art on said wall shake, and then heard what sounded like Shane say “Is that all you got, Rozanov?”. Wyatt grabbed his phone and fled to Troy and Evan’s room down the hall. He slept on a cot in their room that night, but the back pain he woke up with was worth it.
That first season, the guys would put in their ear plugs and ignore it as best they could. Ilya and Shane had been forced apart for so long, they deserved to enjoy the time they had together now. And it’s not like it would last forever. At some point, the honeymoon phase would end and they would settle down. Many of the men on the team were married themselves, and they knew how it went. So they bided their time, happy to pay the small price of interrupted sleep, and knowing way more about their teammates sex life than they ever expected, if it meant having two of the greatest players of all time on their team.
Unfortunately for them, the honeymoon phase was still going strong well into their second season. Win or lose (but mostly win, because they were on fire this year), the happy couple would retreat to their hotel room almost immediately and go at it for hours. The unlucky teammates who were forced into the nearby rooms would linger in the hotel bar as late as they could, and then reluctantly make their way to their rooms. Sometimes they got lucky, and the boys had exhausted each other by the time they got there. Most of the time though…
“Jesus fucking Christ are they trying to put the headboard through the wall? I’m actually a little worried one of them is going to get a concussion.” Nick said as he started to unlock his door.
“It’s going to be a long night.” Was Zane’s quiet reply.
—
“Ok, so we all know why we’re here.” Troy called out to the group of men gathered in his hotel room.
“They have to be stopped.”
“It’s traumatizing.”
“I haven’t slept in weeks.”
“It’s like hearing your parents have sex.”
“Haas, for the last time, he’s your captain, not your dad. Either way, we all agree this can’t continue.” Wyatt said. He knew they wouldn’t like this next part, but it was necessary. “Alright. Cap and Holzy have a very active and, uh, very spirited sex life.” Groans and a few boos erupted from the crowd. “And,” Wyatt continued, “we don’t want to change that. Whatever they’re doing, it’s working. They’re fucking killing it on the ice and we are killing it in the standings. We don’t want to fuck with that, right?”
No response.
“Right?” Troy repeated, louder.
A few heads nodded in agreement, but the group still seemed unconvinced.
“So what, we just keep dealing with it? The things I’ve heard haunt me. I can’t even look Hollander in the eyes anymore.” Boodram said with a faraway gaze.
“No no, we can’t keep dealing with it. I agree. Here’s what I think we should do…” Troy laid out the plan he and Wyatt had concocted. It was perfect, in his humble opinion. They would talk to Ilya and Shane, let them know that they loved and respected them, would go to battle for them (and have). But if the team had to hear them fuck nasty one more time they would riot. So, they would suggest that moving forward the happy couple would be given a room on the floor above the rest of the team. Close enough that if someone needed their captain for something they could easily reach him, but far enough away that no one had to hear Hollander scream Rozanov’s name.
“Fuck yeah boys, that’s a great plan! They get what they need, we get peace and quiet. Everyone wins!” Boodram shouted, thrilled with the idea of future road trips filled with quiet, restful nights. “You should talk to Hollander though. If you go to Roz, he’ll think it’s hilarious and probably try to be even louder next time.”
Troy nodded. “Agreed. Hollander will take it seriously and we all know he walks Roz like a dog, so he’ll keep him in line.”
With a plan in action, they all decided to head down to the lobby. Troy and Wyatt would talk to Shane during breakfast.
–
Shane stared at his teammates, shame and humiliation warring inside him. He felt his face warm and knew it was bright red, but he still couldn’t bring himself to say anything.
“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. We’re all adults, we all have sex, we just don’t want to hear each other going at it. That’s all.” Wyatt said casually as he bit into a piece of toast.
Shane put his head in his hands and groaned.
“Guys, I am so sorry. I really had no idea that we…that you could…oh my God I’m never going to be able to look Boodram in the eyes again.” Shane said.
Wyatt and Troy laughed at that and Shane felt the beginnings of a headache creeping in.
He knew that he and Ilya were a bit loud, though they really did try to show restraint when they were on the road. It was nothing compared to how they were at home. But still, he thought they were doing a good job of it. That first season, Shane still struggled with the fear that they would be overheard, a lingering habit from their years of sneaking around that he still hadn’t quite managed to shake. Ilya had responded by surprising him on a particularly long road trip with a bright red gag.
“To keep that pretty mouth full and quiet.” He explained with a smile.
Fortunately, it was very effective at keeping Shane quiet. He softly moaned around the hard plastic, and any louder sounds were swiftly muffled. Unfortunately for them (and for the rest of the team, Shane now realized with horror) Ilya had liked the sight of Shane’s full lips wrapped around a gag more than he expected, and the resulting noises that he made were louder than either of them had ever been before. They left the gag at home after that trip.
Shane took a deep breath, dropped his hands, and forced himself to make eye contact with Wyatt.
“Ok, so your suggestion is for us to room on a separate floor? Have you discussed this with Weibe, or anyone else?” He asked.
“Not yet, but I will. We wanted to make sure you were on board first.” Wyatt replied.
Shane nodded. He was on board with whatever the team wanted. They had been so welcoming, so supportive. He hated knowing that he had thanked them for that kindness by making them uncomfortable. The oh so familiar feelings of shame rolled through him again.
“Shane,” Troy said softly. Shane looked up, caught off guard at his tone. “Don’t beat yourself up. No one is upset at either of you. We love you assholes, we just think a bit more privacy would be nice for everyone.”
Shane smiled. Troy had become one of his closest friends on the team, but he still found himself surprised at just how kind and understanding he could be under that hard exterior. Troy and Ilya were more similar than either of them knew.
“Thanks man. I appreciate it. I’ll talk to Ilya. He’ll be an asshole about it but I know he’ll agree it’s a good solution.” He replied.
The other men nodded, and got back to their breakfast. Shane looked around and spotted Ilya standing next to the coffee station, their eyes met and Ilya’s brows furrowed slightly, inquiring if everything was ok. Shane nodded and smiled. This was going to be an interesting conversation.
–
Ilya was not a patient man. He was a disciplined man though, when it was necessary, and it was necessary now. So he forced himself to be patient. It was clear that Shane wanted to talk to him, but wasn’t comfortable doing so in front of their teammates, which wasn’t a great sign. Their team was incredibly close, and while he had been reserved and a bit closed off at the beginning, Shane had come out of his shell significantly over the last season and a half. He had told Ilya that his new team had already felt like more of a family than Montreal ever had even after all his years there. So whatever was troubling Shane must be truly horrible.
To top it off, practice was weird. There wasn’t nearly as much chirping as usual, Shane had refused to make eye contact with anyone, and Haas had completely avoided both of them which was very out of character. Ilya felt as if he would explode. He skated to the far end of the rink, away from the rest of the team, and forced himself through some of the breathing exercises Shane taught him.
“It helps with anxiety.” Shane had explained.
“I don’t get anxious.” Ilya replied.
“Sure.”
He heard someone skating over and knew by the sound alone that it was Shane. He practically floated across the ice, simultaneously powerful and graceful, beautiful and deadly. Ilya took a deep breath, held it for four seconds, and slowly let it out.
“Are you ok?” Shane asked as he came to a stop.
Ilya opened his eyes and met Shane’s gaze. Only Shane would check in on someone else, make sure they’re ok, when clearly Shane was the one who wasn’t ok.
“Yes. Will you tell me what is bothering you? Please?” Ilya asked softly. He knew better than to push Shane before he was ready to talk, but he was also crawling out of his skin and reaching the limits of his patience.
Shane looked around, seemingly to make sure no one was nearby. Ilya looked over and saw that the rest of the team had conspicuously gathered on the opposite side of the rink, as far away as possible. Ilya met Haas’s eyes, who quickly looked away. He frowned and looked back at Shane, who was blushing and looking down at his feet. What the fuck?
“I…ok so you know I talked to Barrett and Hayes this morning during breakfast?” Shane had taken off his helmet and was nervously running his hands through his hair. Ilya reached out and took Shane’s hands in his, rubbing his thumbs across his wrists in a way Ilya knew soothed him. Shane smiled and continued. “They told me that they could hear us. Um. You know, at night. Together.”
Ilya felt the mountains of tension he had been carrying on his shoulders crumble immediately. Shane wasn’t upset, or angry, or stuck in his head. He was embarrassed because two of their teammates heard them fucking. This Ilya could deal with. He had assumed some of the guys would hear them eventually, they really were terrible at keeping things quiet.
“Ah, well moy gromkiy krolik, I’m not surprised they heard us last night. You really love it when I eat your-”
“No,” Shane interrupted. “Not just last night. And not just them. Uh, it’s basically every night we’re on the road, and apparently most of the team has heard us at one time or another. We’re keeping them awake at night. They had a team meeting about this this morning.” Shane looked down, and Ilya could tell he felt guilty and embarrassed and probably a little ashamed too.
Ilya didn’t feel any of those things. He was proud that he could still make his husband scream, that they were still so passionate after all these years. And he wanted everyone to know. But he knew that’s not what Shane wanted. Shane definitely had a bit of an exhibitionist kink, but would never want to make anyone else feel uncomfortable, especially not their teammates.
“Ok. So what do they want us to do? No more sex on the road?” He tried, and failed, not to pout as he said that.
Shane laughed.
“God no. They suggested that we start rooming on the floor above the rest of the team. Close by just in case, but far enough away that they don’t have to hear what you sound like when you come down my throat.” Shane said with a smile.
Ilya’s hand flew to his chest in mock outrage. “Bozhe moy! I am a very quiet and respectful lover! I would never, for example, scream out ‘Please baby fuck me harder! I need your cock!’ while my innocent teammates are trying to sleep next door.”
“Oh my god Ilya, don’t remind me. I don’t want to know who heard me say that. I might actually die.” Shane replied.
“I bet it was Haas, he has been avoiding you all day.”
“No.” Shane looked and sounded horrified.
Ilya smiled and pulled Shane in for a hug. “Ok. Whatever the team wants we will do. Another floor is fine. As long as I can continue getting my beautiful husband off as much as he wants, then I am a happy man.”
–
Wyatt narrowed his eyes at the scene across the rink. It was playing out exactly how he expected. Hollander looked like he would die from embarrassment, and Rozanov looked like he had just won the lottery. The pair of them skated across the ice and approached the team.
“Ok listen up.” Rozanov shouted as they came to a stop. The group stopped chatting and all turned to him. “I have been informed that Hollander and I have been causing distractions at night. I have been told that I am supposed to be very sorry about this-”
“Ilya.” Shane warned.
“I am very sorry about this. Room assignments will be changed and we will be separated from the group, so there is nothing to worry about moving forward. We will all have quiet evenings, and none of you will have to hear what it sounds like to get properly fu-”
“Ok, thanks cap, that's great. Let’s all go hit the showers.” Wyatt interrupted before Shane could.
–
Shane dropped his keycard for the second time as he tried, and failed, to open the hotel door. Ilya had him crowded against the door, one hand firmly against his hip and the other fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. His breath ghosted against Shane’s ear.
“Neuklyuzhiy.” Ilya whispered. He bent down and picked up the keycard, successfully swiping it on the first try.
“Show off.” Shane muttered as he pushed past Ilya and entered the room.
It was a standard hotel room, nearly identical to the one they were unceremoniously kicked out of earlier that day. The only significant difference was that it was on a separate floor, apart from their team. Which meant significantly more privacy than they were used to on the road, and Shane was free from the anxiety of being overheard.
Shane lifted his suitcase onto the second bed (they only ever used the second bed as a suitcase depository), unzipped it, and started unpacking. They would be here for two nights, so he had time to get comfortable. He removed his carefully folded pants and turned to place them in the nearby dresser, but instead found Ilya leaning against it and watching him with a fond expression.
“You’re so sexy when you’re unpacking, have I ever told you that?” Ilya asked.
Shane smiled. “You think everything I do is sexy.”
“Mmhm, is true. But I’ve watched you fold your clothes before sex so many times that I seem to have developed a, what could you call it, laundry kink?” Ilya pushed away from the dresser and stalked toward Shane. He removed the pants from Shane’s hands and carefully placed them back in the open suitcase. Shane’s hands immediately went to Ilya’s chest, then made their way up to his soft, curly hair, tugging gently.
“I think you might just have a Shane kink.” He murmured.
“Oh, I definitely do.” Ilya replied. “Now, let’s make good use of our private room.”
Shane didn’t need to be told twice. He pulled Ilya forward and their lips crashed together. Shane sighed softly as Ilya’s tongue slipped between his lips, the familiar taste and feel of it never failing to be intoxicating. They kissed slowly, softly, for several moments, and Shane’s body was warm and buzzing with electricity.
“How do you want to take advantage of our new freedom?” Shane asked against Ilya’s lips.
Instead of answering, Ilya reached down, wrapped his hands around Shane’s strong thighs, and lifted him up effortlessly. Shane moaned into Ilya’s mouth and wrapped his legs around his waist as Ilya walked them to the nearest wall, and pressed Shane against it.
“I could fuck you here, against this wall.” He whispered against Shane’s ear as he trailed kisses across the soft skin there.
“Someone - fuck that feels good - somoene could still be next door though. They could hear.” Shane choked out between gasps. Ilya had worked his way down to Shane’s neck, and was alternating gentle bites and long filthy licks.
“You’d like that wouldn’t you, let them hear you beg for it, let them know what a slut you are for my cock, moy shlyukha.” Shane felt Ilya grow harder against him, and groaned again.
He tapped Ilya’s arm twice, their unspoken code for I need to change positions. Ilya immediately loosened his hold on Shane’s thighs, allowing him to remove his legs from around Ilya’s waist and place them on the floor. Shane didn’t stay there long. He dropped to his knees, pulling Ilya’s sweatpants and boxers down with him. He looked up at Ilya, who had his head against the wall and looked wrecked already. His hair was a fluffy mess from Shane’s hands, lips were red and swollen, his pupils blown so wide his eyes looked almost black, and there was a gorgeous soft pink flush working its way across his chest. Fuck, he was beautiful. Shane took a moment to admire his stunning husband and revel in his fortune, before said husband opened his stupid sexy mouth and ruined the moment.
“Are you going to sit there and stare at me all night, or are you going to suck my dick?” He asked with a smirk.
Shane leaned back on his heels and did his best to look like he was thinking very carefully. “I think, if it’s ok with you, I’ll just sit and stare. You’re very nice to look at.”
“What? No, why would you -” Shane took advantage of Ilya’s momentary distraction to swallow his cock down to the base in one swift motion. “Fuuuuuck Shane bozhe, da, pozhaluysta.” Ilya babbled in Russian as Shane set to work. He pulled back, lips just barely ghosting the tip, before diving back and taking his entire length in again, gagging slightly. “Yes Shane, so beautiful, god you love it so much. I wish you could see how you look right now.” Ilya swiped his thumb against Shane’s lips, then moved it up to brush away the tears that were forming at the corner of his eyes. “Stop, come here and kiss me, please.” Ilya tugged at Shane’s arms, pulling him up.
Shane met Ilya’s eyes as he stood, and his mouth fell open at the sheer unrestrained desire he saw reflected back at him. Ilya had been holding back all this time, Shane realized. Likely out of respect for Shane’s request that they keep things as quiet as possible on the road, so as not to disturb the team (which, Shane can now admit, was a complete and utter failure). But now…Fuck, Ilya looked like a starving man standing in front of a feast, and who was Shane to deny him a meal?
Shane pressed a chaste kiss against Ilya’s lips, and pulled back slightly when Ilya leaned in for more. He knew what Ilya needed here tonight, and he was going to give it to him. Shane stepped away from the wall and walked over to the bed, stripping off his shirt as he went. He carefully folded the shirt, keeping eye contact with Ilya as he did, and then did the same with his pants and boxers. Ilya stepped out of his pants that were tangled around his ankles, and took off his shirt, throwing both of them to the side without a glance as to where they ended up. He walked forward and leaned in for a kiss, but Shane again pulled back.
“Shane?” Ilya asked, confused. He watched with furrowed brows as Shane removed their suitcases from the extra bed and sat them on the floor. He then patted the bed, indicating that he wanted Ilya to sit. Ilya obediently sat on the bed, and reached his hands out to grip Shane’s hips. He leaned forward and pressed reverent kisses onto Shane’s stomach. But once again, infuriatingly, Shane pulled away. “Shane.” Ilya whined. “Why do you tease me?”
Shane smiled. “I want you to watch me get myself ready for you. Would you like that?” He asked.
“Da, Hollander. Yes, please. Fuck.”
“Ok, but you have to stay there, and you can’t touch. Me, or yourself. Sit on your hands if you have to.” Shane replied as he sat on the opposite bed, facing Ilya.
“Cruel.” Ilya said, but did as he was told. He placed his hands on either side of his thighs so Shane could see he was behaving himself.
Shane scooted backwards on the bed so he could lay down and bring his feet up, spreading his legs wide to ensure he put on a good show for Ilya. He could tell by the other man’s sharp intake and heavier breathing that he chose a good angle. He started with his dick, already fully hard and leaking profusely. Shane took a moment to rub his hand across the head, gathering the precum there, and used it to help glide his hand slowly up and down the length. He lifted his head up enough so Ilya could see his face, and brought his other hand up to his mouth, sucking in two fingers. Ilya gasped. Shane sloppily sucked on his fingers, getting them wet, before trailing them down to his entrance. The angle was awkward, and difficult, but Shane didn’t practice yoga so diligently just for hockey. He twisted his body slightly and brought his arm further down and closer, until he could easily slip a finger in.
“Fuck, so good.” He gasped out as he worked his finger in and out, in rhythm with his other hand still pumping his cock. “Your fingers feel so much better though, malysh.”
Shane watched as Ilya leaned forward and started to reach for him, then remembered his instructions and slammed his hands back on the bed, gripping the duvet forcefully. His face was flushed red, sweat beading at his temples, and his eyes looked wild.
“Let me help. I can do it better for you Shane, make you feel so good.” Ilya gasped out.
Shane shook his head and pushed a second finger in. “I’m not sure I need your help.” He murmured, lying through his teeth but thoroughly enjoying the effect it was having on Ilya. He moaned loudly and sped the movement of both of his hands.
“Yebat, fuck. You can’t reach your prostate that way. Please baby, let me, please I need to…please.” Shane looked up at that and gasped at the sight before him. Ilya’s entire face and chest was flushed, his cock so hard it looked painful, and his knuckles were white from how hard they were gripping the bed. But it was his eyes that took Shane’s breath away. His pupils were blown wide, and wet, like he was on the verge of tears. Shane stopped both of his hands and gripped the base of his dick, suddenly far too close to the edge. “Please.” Ilya whispered.
Shane nodded. “Ok, you’ve been so good for me, you’re always so fucking good to me. Come here.” He said.
Ilya practically leapt from his seat. He turned back to dig through his suitcase, then spun around holding a bottle of lube with a smile, like he had found a golden ticket. Shane laughed and slowly removed his fingers, wincing slightly at the sudden feeling of emptiness. He knew he wouldn’t feel empty for long.
Ilya uncapped the bottle of lube and coated his fingers, rubbing them together to warm the fluid. “Two?” He asked, voice trembling slightly.
“Three, please.” Shane replied.
Ilya obliged. He knelt on the floor in front of Shane, used one hand to gently push his left leg to the side, and with the other hand slowly and carefully started working his fingers into Shane’s slightly loosened hole. Shane noticed Ilya’s hands were trembling and he tried, but failed, to fight back a laugh.
“What’s so funny, Hollander?” Ilya asked, breathlessly.
“Not - ah - funny, just…fuck right there oh my god…” Ilya brushed against his prostate and Shane’s entire body lit up.
“Tell me, or I’ll stop.” Ilya warned.
Fuck.
“I love teasing you, making you watch me, not letting you touch. You - fuckohmygodpleasedon’tstoprightthereIlyafuck - you get so…ahhhhh Ilya please, you have to stop, I don’t want to come yet.” Shane wanted to tell Ilya how much he loved watching him hold himself back. To battle his urges and desires, to be good for Shane. Seeing Ilya use every ounce of his self discipline because Shane asked him to. Fuck, it was intoxicating. And to know that all Ilya wanted, all he desired, was to make Shane feel good, to bring him pleasure? Shane never felt more powerful. But he couldn’t put all of this into words, because Ilya was ruthlessly pumping his fingers in and out, pounding against his prostate, and Shane was seconds away from coming.
Ilya stilled his fingers at Shane’s request, and pressed soft kisses against his leg. He looked as affected as Shane did, breathing heavily and struggling to form words. They both stayed there for several moments, Ilya’s fingers still inside Shane but not moving, both catching their breath and staring into each other’s eyes.
“If I don’t fuck you soon, I may die.” Ilya said against Shane’s leg.
“Well, we can’t have that. How do you want me, ser?” Shane asked. One of the first words he made sure to learn when he started studying Russian was ‘sir’, and it was well worth the effort. The effect was always immediate.
Ilya growled, removed his fingers from where they had been resting inside Shane, and flipped him over onto his stomach.
“Get on your hands and knees, Hollander.” He commanded.
Shane did as he was told, and felt Ilya climb onto the bed behind him. Ilya gripped his waist, pressed his cock against Shane’s entrance, and leaned down.
“Is ok?” He asked. He always asked, always checked in, and Shane loved him for it. No matter how far gone they both were, Ilya never failed to make sure that Shane was comfortable and ready for him.
“Yes, fuck me, please. Hard, I need it. I need you.” Shane replied.
Ilya groaned and slammed into Shane in one swift motion. Shane shouted (possibly Ilya’s name, he had no idea) and fisted the blankets beneath him. Ilya set a brutal pace, using his significant core strength to pound into Shane hard and fast, over and over. The headboard rattled and banged loudly against the wall and Shane thought distantly that it sounded like the bed was scraping against the floor as it moved with them. He didn’t care. There was no way his teammates could hear them.
“Shane, lyubov, so good.” Ilya grunted as he thrust forward. Shane could tell by his tone that Ilya was already close. He reached down and took his cock in his hand. He had been close for ages, and he knew Ilya wouldn’t want to come before him. Shane pumped himself hard and fast.
“Fuck, Ilya I’m…oh god…FUCK!” Shane screamed as he came and came and came, endlessly, making a mess on the bed, his own chest, and somehow, a bit on his chin.
Ilya shouted a string of Russian that Shane was unable to translate and stilled behind him, gripping his hips hard enough to leave marks that he was sure would still be there tomorrow. Shane smiled at the thought. Ilya leaned down and pressed his weight into Shane’s back.
“Don’t push me down into the bed, it’s a fucking mess.” Shane said, muffled slightly by the pillow his face was buried in.
Ilya laughed, pulled out, and laid down next to Shane. He pulled Shane to him, away from the wet spot, and onto his chest.
“I’m going to send Barrett and Hayes a thank you basket.” Ilya murmured as he kissed Shane’s head.
Shane laughed against Ilya’s chest and silently agreed. It really had worked out perfectly.
–
*Hollanov Support Group Chat*
Luca Haas: Anyone still awake?
Wyatt Hayes: ofc, what’s up Haas?
Luca Haas: Can you come to my room please?
Troy Barrett: You ok?
Luca Haas: Yes, I just need help with something. Can you both come?
Wyatt Hayes: On our way.
Zane Boodram: Let me know if I can help
Zane Boodram: Boys it’s been like 20 minutes, everything ok?
*Wyatt Hayes has added Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander to the chat*
Troy Barrett: You two are fucking animals. Haas is in the room below yours fyi.
Ilya Rozanov: Sorry, not sorry ;)
Evan Dykstra: lmfao Haas can’t catch a break.
Shane Hollander: I am so sorry, Luca.
Wyatt Hayes: Let’s try two floors next time. But we might have to just move them to a different hotel at this rate.