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Shane trudged into his dark, empty Montreal apartment, closing the door quietly behind him. He dropped his bag on the floor and pressed his back to the door, thunking his head against it. He closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths.
He was exhausted.
It had been a grueling road trip and while the Voyageurs had done exceptionally well, every game had been hard won. They were looking good this season. They probably had it in them to make it to the playoffs.
But Shane wasn’t thinking about that. He wasn’t thinking about how well his team was doing this season and how they’d had a win streak their entire road trip. He was thinking about how empty his apartment was, how badly he wished he could curl up in bed with Ilya. He wanted strong arms around him and fingers running through his hair and sweet nothings murmured against his skin in Russian.
They hadn’t seen one another in two weeks and Shane was feeling his absence acutely. He didn’t know if it was because he was so tired and wrung out from their games or if the loneliness was getting to him. Possibly both.
He had never had this before. This deep sense of longing that made him ache, of wishing he could be close to the person he loved, but knowing that it was impossible.
Their summer together had been one of the most amazing times of Shane’s life. Though he had been thinking a lot about logistics and how he and Ilya would ultimately get to be together, the time they had had together at the cottage had been the most romantic days he’d ever experienced.
He loved waking up to Ilya every morning and going to bed with him every night. He loved being competitive with him but also having time to just relax and be together. He loved sitting out in the sun and watching Ilya turn golden. He loved that he could kiss and touch him whenever the mood struck. He loved that they could laugh together, be silly together. Shane wasn’t sure he had laughed so much in the presence of another person… ever .
And the sex. God. The sex had been incredible.
He missed Ilya so much it hurt.
Shane opened his eyes and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He had been texting with Ilya all day, except for when he had been at practice and at the game and flying. The last message on his phone was from Ilya.
Ilya: text me when you are home ❤️
Shane texted him back.
Shane: Just got in
He bit his lip, debating saying more. I love you, I miss you, I wish you were here .
Shane: Going to get ready for bed, I think
Ilya: It is late. You should sleep.
Shane: Can I call you before I do?
Ilya: Of course
Shane sent a heart emoji back and turned on the lights in his apartment. He toed off his shoes, hung up his jacket, and picked up his bag. He went to his bedroom, leaving his bag at the foot of his bed, and undressed.
He hung up his suit, dumped his shirt in the hamper, and changed into pajamas. He brushed his teeth and washed his face, then grabbed up his phone, and crawled into bed. He wasn’t feeling particularly sexy tonight. He just wanted to hear Ilya’s voice… maybe even fall asleep to it.
He wanted to be comforted, really. He wanted Ilya’s solid, warm weight against him, his long fingers stroking through Shane’s hair. He brought up his boyfriend’s number and pressed the call button. It rang twice and Ilya picked up.
“Hi,” he said, his warm, accented voice slicing through Shane. That voice. He knew Ilya didn’t like his accent but Shane loved it. It was so rich and deep and it washed over him in soothing waves. He had missed hearing it.
“Hi,” Shane replied, his voice sounding trembly, which made him frown.
“What is wrong?”
Shane couldn’t respond for a moment. He hadn’t been on the phone for more than fifteen seconds and he had a lump in his throat and tears in his eyes, just from hearing Ilya’s voice.
“Shane?” Ilya asked, his voice sounding soft and concerned on the other end. There was a pause and then Ilya said, “I am FaceTiming you.”
The call switched to a video call. Shane accepted it and as soon as Ilya’s face appeared on the screen, he burst into tears. He wasn’t loud about it. He just covered his mouth with one hand and tears started spilling down his cheeks.
“Shane,” Ilya soothed. “Oh, sweetheart.”
Shane was embarrassed. He felt ridiculous for being so emotional. They hadn’t ever cried in front of each other and he wasn’t sure that he felt ready for that. But ready or not, it was happening. He just… he missed Ilya so much . He longed for him and the distance between them was tortuous.
“Breathe,” Ilya encouraged. Shane took a few deep breaths, wiping his eyes with the cuff of the sweatshirt he’d stolen from Ilya the last time they’d seen each other. He swallowed, finding his voice.
“I’m sorry,” he managed, sounding just as pathetic as he felt. “I didn’t mean to…”
“It is fine,” Ilya replied, reassuring and kind. “Did something happen?”
“No,” Shane replied. “I just… I’m tired and I got home to my stupid, empty apartment, and I just…”
He looked at Ilya on the call. He was sitting up in bed, wearing a soft looking gray t-shirt, his curls all rumbled. He looked tired, too, but gorgeous and sweet and Shane’s eyes began to sting again. Maybe he was being too much but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t want to help it. Ilya was his boyfriend and he loved him and missed him.
“I miss you,” he murmured at last. “ So much.”
Ilya’s expression softened, his brows furrowing, his lips slightly parted. “I miss you, too. The distance is hard.”
Shane nodded, wiping at his eyes again. “So hard. Harder than I thought.”
Ilya nodded in agreement and he let out a tired breath. “It was easier… when it was just sex.”
“Yeah,” Shane replied, biting his lip. He wondered if Ilya regretted this. If, now that they were doing this and it was as hard as it was, that he was thinking it wasn’t worth it. That Shane wasn’t worth it. Ilya could have any number of men or women at his beck and call. He didn’t have to suffer through this.
They looked at one another for a long time, Shane still sniffly, and Ilya quiet, watching him.
“I love you,” Ilya said. “And I am sad that you are sad. I wish that I could just… what is the word? Appear there? To be with you.”
Shane smiled small, relief and elation flooding him at hearing Ilya say he loved him and wanted to be with him. It made him almost dizzy.
“Teleport?” he replied.
“Yes,” Ilya chuckled. “Teleport. I would be there now.”
“I wish I could do that, too. I want to be wherever you are.”
Ilya nodded. “Yes. Me, too.”
Shane sighed. “I love you, too. And I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get all emotional on you. It’s just been a long week and I’m tired.”
“Is okay. You are allowed to be sad and tired. You are back in Montreal for a while now, yes?”
Shane nodded. “Yeah. For the next few weeks. And we have some time off to recover.”
Ilya tilted his head curiously. “How much time?”
“Two days,” Shane replied.
Ilya hummed. “Good. Rest will help.”
“Yeah. I think so. And we’ll be playing against each other soon. Next week, I think.”
Ilya nodded once more. “Yes. We will be in Montreal.”
Shane smiled. He wished he could fast forward time and have Ilya here now. But they would get there and he would have Ilya for a few blissful hours before he went back to Boston.
“I can’t wait to see you.”
“I cannot wait to see you . And touch you. And kiss you.”
Shane snuggled into his comforter, blushing, and soft, and warm. “I want that, too.”
“You will get it. All of it. I promise.”
Shane bit his lip and nodded. Ilya was smiling crookedly at him and winked. Shane blushed deeper and Ilya chuckled.
“You are very cute,” he said and Shane shook his head.
“Shut up.”
“Why? You do not like hearing these things?”
“No. I do. It’s just…” Shane shrugged. “I don’t know. I like it…”
Ilya smiled. “I will tell you all the time.”
Shane laughed softly. “That might actually kill me.”
“No! Why?”
“I’ll be too overwhelmed by how sweet it is for you to say those things.”
“But they are the truth.”
Shane sighed and smiled, his heart feeling too full. He loved this man so much.
“Thank you.”
Ilya smiled softly. “Try and sleep, yes?”
“Yeah.”
“I will dream of you tonight.”
Shane squirmed a little, unsure if he would ever be used to the things that Ilya said. To the way they made him feel. Feeling brave, he said, “I’ll be dreaming of you, too.”
Ilya’s expression was still soft but his eyes were full of heat.
“It will be a good dream then.”
“Yeah. I know it.”
“Goodnight, moy lyubimyy.”
“Goodnight, Ilya. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
They ended the video call after a few more moments of staring at one another and saying goodbye. Shane felt a little lighter having talked to Ilya and knowing that they would see one another soon.
He plugged in his phone, leaving it on his nightstand, and curled himself up under his comforter to sleep.
***
Ilya brought the Monster Energy can to his lips as he drove the last twenty minutes of his journey into Canada. He hadn’t at all planned to make the five hour and nine minute drive from Boston up north but after being on that call with Shane, and seeing him so upset, he’d just… done it.
He’d packed a backpack haphazardly with two sets of clothing, deodorant, his phone charger, wallet, passport, and keys, then went to the garage to take his most inconspicuous car, a black 2015 Mustang, the only non-European sports car in his collection.
He’d left at around two in the morning and was going to arrive at Shane’s apartment complex around seven. He was probably being very stupid. He knew he was being impulsive but he also didn’t feel like he had any other choice.
Ilya had never been in love before. He had had a few committed relationships in Russia, but nothing that had lasted long. He had been far more interested in sex than commitment and while he liked and respected his partners, he had never been in love with them.
And then there was Shane.
The intensity of his feelings for Shane was a forest fire. Intense and unstoppable. He would give anything to make Shane happy. Sell his car collection, switch the team he played for, move to Canada, all of it. Ilya would give up any number of things if it meant building a life with Shane.
And that meant that if Shane was upset and the best way to make him happy was for Ilya to show up (unannounced) when his boyfriend needed him most, then that’s what he would do. So he had.
He was exhausted and a little shaky from all the chemicals and caffeine he’d used to keep himself awake. But it would be worth it to see Shane. To hold him. To kiss him. To reassure him that Ilya loved him and everything was okay, even though it was hard.
He made his way into the city, driving down the tight roads, his eyes peeled for the parking garage he had looked up in the area. It took him two tries before he managed to find it, pulling in, and parking his car. He knew it was early, but he didn’t (yet) have a key to Shane’s place, so he called him.
The phone rang and rang and Ilya was sure Shane wouldn’t pick up, except he did.
“‘Ello?” Shane’s sleepy voice said.
“Shane,” Ilya replied.
“Ilya?”
“I am here.”
There was a pause. “You’re… what?”
“I am here. In Montreal. I just parked my car. I do not have a key to your place.”
Ilya heard the sound of Shane shifting on his bed. “You’re here? In Montreal? Right now?”
“Yes.”
“Holy shit. Fuck. Okay. Hang on. I have to… uh… okay. Meet me downstairs in like, five minutes? Around the back?”
“Yes. Okay.”
“You’re really here…”
Ilya smiled softly, hearing the slight tremble in Shane’s voice again. “Yes.”
“I’ll be right there.”
“Okay. See you soon.”
“Yeah. Five minutes. Bye.”
Ilya chuckled softly. “Bye.”
The call ended and Ilya grabbed his bag. He left the car, sliding into his jacket, and zipping it up. He locked his car and headed out of the garage toward Shane’s building, and around to the back entrance.
Ilya was only waiting outside for a few minutes when Shane appeared in a sweatshirt, joggers, and a pair of slides. His hair was all mussed from sleep and he looked so adorable and perfect that Ilya could have melted if not for the cold.
“Oh my god,” Shane said, holding the door open. “Come in. It’s freezing.”
Ilya stepped inside, smiling softly at Shane, his heart thumping against his rib cage. Shane looked back at him, biting his bottom lip. Just standing here with him made the five hour drive worth it.
“Hi,” Ilya said, unable to think of anything else that wasn’t praise for how beautiful Shane looked or how happy Ilya was to see him face-to-face.
“Hi,” Shane replied, reaching up to cup warm, warm hands against Ilya’s cold, cold face. He closed his eyes, leaning into one of Shane’s palms, reaching up to press Shane’s hand harder against his cheek.
“You’re freezing. Come on. Let’s get upstairs.”
Shane removed his hands but took one of Ilya’s in his own, tangling their fingers, and leading him down the hall to the elevators. Once they were inside, Ilya gently extracted his hand from Shane’s so he could wrap his arms around him instead.
Shane held him in return, his face tucked against Ilya’s neck. He was trembling slightly, his breath warm and quick against Ilya’s skin.
They got out of the elevator and Shane took Ilya’s hand again, leading him down the hall to his apartment. He unlocked the door and they stepped inside. They didn’t get past the entryway, wrapping themselves up in each other, holding on tight.
“How are you here?” Shane asked breathlessly, his face in Ilya’s neck once more.
“I drove.”
“From Boston?”
“Yes. Where else?”
Shane pulled back. His eyes were big and shiny with tears, his lip trembling a little. He was looking at Ilya like he couldn’t believe he was here, that he had driven in the early morning hours to get to Shane. Disbelieving that Ilya would do such a thing. But of course he would. He would do much, much more, if that was what Shane needed.
Shane sighed softly, his forehead landing on Ilya’s sternum. He let out a quiet little sob and Ilya wrapped him up again, his heart aching. He rested his cheek on top of Shane’s head and gently swayed him back and forth.
Shane’s arms came up, holding tight to Ilya. They stood in the entryway until Shane’s crying turned into soft sniffling. He pulled away, making to step away from Ilya, hiding his eyes, his face, but Ilya wouldn’t let him go.
“No,” Ilya murmured tenderly. “Let me…”
Shane looked up at him. His face pink, eyes swollen and wet, cheeks tear stained. Ilya had seen many people cry in his life but no one that looked this good when they did. With careful fingers he wiped Shane’s face, then kissed his forehead, down between his eyes, over his eyelids, to his mouth.
“It is still early,” he sighed against Shane’s lips. “Back to bed.”
“Okay,” Shane replied, just as softly.
Ilya toed off his boots and set down his backpack so he could slip off his coat and hang it up. He lifted his bag back onto his shoulder and Shane took his hand, leading him to his bedroom.
Ilya had stayed at Shane’s apartment before. It was simple and sparse, like a hotel room. Nothing like Shane’s cottage, which showed so much more of his personality. But it was familiar, too, just like the cottage. Ilya even had a toothbrush here and space in a drawer.
“Get into bed,” he said to Shane and Shane looked back at him.
“One sec,” Shane replied, going to the bathroom first, and turning on the tap to wash his face. Ilya smiled softly after him before taking in the room. The bed wasn’t made, still messy from Shane having slept in it, and Ilya liked seeing it. He liked this bit of intimacy, something that only he would know of, and witness.
He set down his bag as Shane came out of the bathroom. He took off his jeans and socks, dressed in nothing but his gray t-shirt and briefs, and climbed into bed with his boyfriend. Shane snuggled up close to him, curling against his chest, and Ilya held him, curving his shoulders around Shane’s, swallowing him.
Shane let out a bone deep sigh that Ilya could feel in his chest. He threaded his fingers into Shane’s hair, playing with the short, soft strands, scratching his scalp just a bit.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” he murmured and Ilya turned his head to kiss Shane’s temple, lingering there, breathing him in.
“Me, too.”
Shane’s body relaxed and Ilya could feel his breathing even out, sure that he was asleep. He closed his eyes, breathing Shane in, and followed very quickly after.
***
Shane woke up an indeterminate amount of time later to a heavy, comforting weight against his back, and soft snoring. He smiled, curling tight against Ilya, amazed and disbelieving that he was here .
No one had ever done anything like this for Shane before. He had never had anyone drop everything and drive five hours to spend less than a day with him, simply because Shane had missed them. But Ilya had.
Shane’s heart swelled, eyes stinging again. How was it possible to be this happy? To be this in love? He couldn’t quite believe it all. It felt like something out of a dream or a movie. Too good to be true. He was even more surprised that Ilya was this romantic and thoughtful.
But there was a lot that Shane was learning about Ilya. He was kind of a dick… but there was more to him than that. Shane caught glimpses of a kindhearted, sensitive person who was soft with the people he loved. Shane felt lucky to have that softness and kindness directed at him, perhaps feeling even luckier because it was coming from someone like Ilya, where it would seem you would have to work very hard to earn that kind of affection and dedication from him.
Shane felt quite special and it made him all mushy inside.
He rolled over carefully, looking at Ilya the same way he had when they had been at the cottage that first morning together. His room was dark but Ilya still looked beautiful.
His messy curls fell in his face, his plush lips parted slightly. Shane let his eyes wander, taking in the arch of Ilya’s thick brows, the line of his nose, not quite perfect or centered, but rugged, giving his face character. He took in the way Ilya’s lashes lay against his cheeks, surprisingly delicate. Shane was tempted to scratch his fingers against Ilya’s stubble and press a kiss to the cleft in his chin and between his eyes.
He couldn’t believe he was here . When Shane had been missing him so much. And he’d come. Driven all this way. If that wasn’t love, Shane wasn’t sure what was. It filled him with awe and wonder at this person who had decided he was worth the time and effort.
He didn’t know how long he watched Ilya sleep, but Ilya did eventually stir. His body stretched out, reminding Shane a little of a cat, before his eyes blinked open, and he looked at Shane.
“Good morning,” Ilya murmured, smiling shyly.
“It is,” Shane replied, reaching out to rest a gentle hand on Ilya’s cheek. He stroked his thumb over Ilya’s scruff and smiled helplessly at him. Ilya closed his eyes and turned his face into Shane’s palm, pressing kisses to his skin.
“Do we still need to brush our teeth?” he asked, eyeing Shane. “Before I can kiss you the way I want to?”
“Yes,” Shane confirmed, because he hated kissing Ilya with morning breath. Ilya rolled his eyes but he was smiling.
“Let’s go then.”
“Wait.” Shane reached a hand out and rested it on Ilya’s arm before he could get out of bed. “Just… cuddle me for a few minutes first?”
Ilya’s expression softened, turning affectionate and sweet.
“Okay,” he murmured and lay back down, holding his arms out for Shane. Shane went, tucking his head under Ilya’s chin, curled up against his chest, tangling their legs. He sighed, blissful, closing his eyes.
Ilya murmured something in Russian and kissed into Shane’s hair.
“Hmm?”
“Sweetheart,” Ilya said, in English.
Shane made a soft noise of pleasure and rubbed his face against Ilya’s collarbones, making him laugh, and squeeze Shane tighter.
“I love you,” he said, turning his head up to kiss Ilya’s neck.
“I love you, too,” Ilya replied, stroking Shane’s hair.
They cuddled for a long while, before Shane finally sat up. He wanted to make out with Ilya and then he wanted him to fuck him, which meant that teeth needed to be brushed.
“C’mon.”
Ilya smirked and followed Shane out of bed, letting Shane lead him to the bathroom by the hand. They stood at the sink, brushing their teeth together.
“This is very romantic,” Ilya said, toothbrush still in his mouth, which was all frothy from the toothpaste.
“Shut up,” Shane replied, snickering.
Ilya snorted and laughed, shaking his head. In truth, Shane liked this. He liked how simple this action was. A quiet, domestic thing that he was sharing with his boyfriend. Innocuous and simple, but something shared. It made his heart glow.
When they were finished brushing their teeth, Ilya reached out for Shane, turning him toward him. He was just looking at Shane with a soft little smile, his hazel eyes smoldering. Shane had been half-hard most of the morning and it didn’t take much for him to go completely rigid, particularly with the way Ilya was looking at him.
Ilya’s eyes tracked over his face. He reached up, brushing his thumb over the line of Shane’s cheekbone, before curving his index finger and thumb around Shane’s chin, holding him in place. Shane licked his lips and Ilya leaned down, kissing him.
The kiss was slow at first, just Ilya’s lips against Shane’s. Then Ilya’s tongue brushed against Shane’s mouth, seeking entrance, and Shane opened for him. He moaned, softly, and wrapped his arms around Ilya’s neck. Ilya pulled Shane closer, arms around his waist.
They made out in the bathroom, Shane’s hand tangling into Ilya’s curls, his dick pressed against Ilya’s firm thigh, and Ilya bumped up against him, making Shane shudder.
“Come on,” Ilya murmured against his lips. Shane hopped into his arms, legs around Ilya’s waist, Ilya’s hands under his ass as he walked them out of the bathroom, still kissing, to Shane’s bed.
He lay Shane down very carefully, leaning over him, smiling down at him, and Shane’s heart swooped. He kissed Shane while his hands slid under his shirt, pulling it up to Shane’s armpits. They broke the kiss so Ilya could pull the shirt off, then tugged his own up and off from behind in one fluid motion that Shane found impressive and sexy.
They kissed some more, hands roaming shamelessly over skin, caressing and gripping.
“I missed you,” Shane said as Ilya ducked his head to kiss down Shane’s neck, leaving a mark on his collarbone, where he could hide it.
“I missed you, too,” Ilya replied, kissing down Shane’s sternum, lifting his eyes to look at him. Shane looked back, running a hand into Ilya’s curls again, eyes sliding closed as Ilya teased his nipples with his mouth and fingers, making Shane gasp.
“Did you dream of me?” Ilya murmured. “Last night?”
Shane gasped at the question and the way Ilya was paying particular attention to his chest.
“Yes,” he replied at last. Ilya raised his head, smiling.
“What did you dream about?”
His fingers lazily circled Shane’s nipples and Shane bit his lip, heat pooled in his belly, and his cheeks. It was still hard for him to talk about sex and sex related things with Ilya. But he was trying.
“Just… being with you,” Shane replied. “Kissing and—ah! F-fucking…”
Ilya hummed, kissed Shane’s sternum. “Do you want me to fuck you, Hollander?”
Shane bit back a whine. “Yes.”
Ilya grinned, sexy and confident, continuing his journey down Shane’s body.
Shane always felt so outclassed with Ilya like this. The difference in their skill levels was obvious and Shane always felt like he was barely keeping up. But it felt so good . Selfishly, he loved being on the receiving end of Ilya’s attention, able to enjoy all the benefits of Ilya’s knowledge and experience, even if Ilya teased him.
Sometimes Shane worried if his inexperience wasn’t enough for Ilya but he reminded himself that he had driven all this way to be with Shane, and that meant something.
“Stop thinking,” Ilya murmured, though he sounded affectionate, pressing ticklish, tender kisses to Shane’s stomach.
“I’m trying,” Shane huffed back, turning his head to the side as he watched Ilya work.
“I am doing a bad job then.” Ilya looked up at Shane, curls falling in his face as he wrapped his hands around Shane’s hips.
“What?” Shane asked, brows furrowed.
“If I was doing a good job, you would not be thinking.”
Shane bit his lip. “You’re not doing a bad job.”
“And yet…”
Shane gently pushed Ilya’s hair back. “I’m with you…”
Ilya smiled softly, kissing Shane’s pelvis, and tucked his fingers into Shane’s pants. He tugged them down, kneeling on the floor, eyes never leaving Shane’s. They just looked at one another for a moment before Ilya smiled that lopsided, sexy smile, pressing a kiss to the seam of Shane’s hip. “Lube?”
“Everything’s in that drawer,” Shane said, pointing to his bedside table. Ilya nodded, kissing his hip, before he stood and went to the drawer.
He opened it, pulling out lube and a condom. He paused, chuckling, before closing the drawer, and coming back to the foot of the bed.
“I will have to buy you more toys,” he said casually, dropping the lube and condom on the bed next to Shane and pulled off his own pants and underwear.
“What? Why?” Shane asked.
Ilya kneeled, placing one of Shane’s dangling legs over his shoulder. “Gifts,” he explained. “And for video sex.” Ilya’s smile turned very sexy.
“Maybe I will make one of my dick.”
“A dildo? Of your dick?” Shane asked incredulously.
Ilya nodded, reaching between Shane’s legs to roll his balls in his palm. Shane sucked in a breath. “Yes. That is a thing you can do. With a mold.”
Shane couldn’t lie that the idea was… kind of sexy. Video calling with Ilya and fucking himself with the dildo made from a mold of his boyfriend’s cock? That was… fucking hot as hell.
“You like that idea,” Ilya noted as Shane’s cock twitched.
“Yeah,” Shane breathed. “I do.”
“Me, too,” Ilya replied, his lips dragging along the inside of Shane’s thigh, before he sucked a mark into the sensitive skin. Shane whimpered. Ilya hummed, licking and kissing the mark, before sucking one of Shane’s balls into his mouth.
Shane felt like he was being sweetly tortured. Ilya took his time, teasing his balls and perineum, working Shane up into a lather. He sucked Shane’s dick a bit, just to work him up more, and Shane wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He could probably come twice, if he was given a little breathing room, but Ilya kept him just hovering at the edge, until Shane was begging.
“Ilya. Please. Fuck. I want you inside me.”
“Just a little longer,” Ilya purred, perfectly content to keep fingering Shane, watching from his vantage point on the floor, between Shane’s legs.
“No,” Shane whined. “Now. Shit. I can’t…”
Ilya finally relented, pulling his fingers out of Shane, grabbing the lube and condom. Shane watched him, biting his lip. He wanted Ilya’s dick so badly he felt almost desperate. Ilya stood, circling his finger in the air.
“Turn over.”
Shane did, getting his knees under him, ass in the air, his chest and face pressed to the mattress. Ilya pulled him a little closer, hands on Shane’s hips, before curving around his ass, squeezed appreciatively.
“Yes. Fuck yes,” Shane whispered. He loved when Ilya fucked him from a standing position, using all of his considerable strength to fuck Shane hard and deep. It was incredible.
“You want it?” Ilya asked, the head of his dick pressed lightly, teasingly, against Shane’s hole.
“Yes. Give it to me. I want it. Fill me up.”
Ilya pushed into him, both of them making the same, punched out noise. Shane loved this. He loved the feeling of fullness, the initial pressure that turned into pleasure. Ilya’s hips pressed against his ass and Shane’s hands flexed against the sheets.
“Fuck, Hollander. You are perfect,” Ilya breathed, still for a moment, before he pulled almost all the way out and pressed back in. Ilya found a good pace, adjusting his hips so he would rub against Shane’s prostate almost every time he pushed back in. Shane had no idea how he did it but it never ceased to blow his mind.
Shane let his mouth fall open, his eyes rolling back as Ilya fucked him, the room filled with moans and pants and harsh breathing and flesh slapping against flesh.
“Yes. Yeah. Fuck yes. Ilya,” Shane whined. “So good. So fucking good.”
“You take me so well,” Ilya grunted. “Like you were made for me.”
Shane whined at that, overcome by the idea of being made for whatever Ilya needed. God, he loved that. It was fucking hot.
“Are you close?” Ilya asked and Shane nodded frantically. He was pretty sure he could come like this, without touching himself. But Ilya stopped, breathing harshly above Shane. He pulled out, tapping Shane’s hip.
“On your back.”
Shane turned over, feeling bold, and slutty, and grabbed his own feet, pulling his legs up and open. He’d done ananda balasana plenty of times in yoga, but never while having sex. Ilya’s eyes went wide.
“Fuck, Shane,” Ilya murmured.
“Come on,” Shane urged.
Ilya pushed into him again, fucking him hard and fast and deep. Shane’s orgasm was imminent, he could feel it cresting. He didn’t even need to touch himself.
“Fuck. Oh shit. I’m gonna come. I’m so close.”
“Let me see it,” Ilya growled. “Come for me.”
And Shane did. Hard and long and loud, coating his stomach and chest, his whole body fizzy and warm. Ilya thrust into him a few more times before stilling as he came, swearing softly, his head tilted back, lips parted, eyes closed.
He was so beautiful when he came, lost in pleasure, his entire face serene and impossibly lovely.
Shane released his feet and Ilya leaned over him, both of them breathing hard.
“Shit, Hollander,” Ilya mussed. “Yoga has been very good to you.”
Shane grinned up at him. “Yeah. For you, too.”
Ilya chuckled and kissed him messily. Shane sighed into it, wrapping his arms around Ilya, not caring about the mess (for now), just wanting him close. Ilya rested his forehead gently against Shane’s and brushed their noses together. Shane kissed him again, just because he could.
Ilya’s softened dick slipped out of Shane and Shane mourned the loss. They got out of bed and showered together, kissing and touching gently, washing each other’s hair and bodies, laughing easily. They spent longer than necessary holding each other under the spray but Shane didn’t care. It felt good to hold Ilya and the ball of tension that had been residing in the middle of his chest since the last time they were together had finally unraveled.
Shane smiled, his heart too full, as he toweled off Ilya’s hair, stealing kisses as he dried the rest of him off, and laughing delightedly as Ilya returned the favor, pressing sweet, ticklish kisses to Shane’s face and stomach. They changed and went to the kitchen where Shane had Ilya sit while he made coffee and breakfast.
***
Ilya sat at Shane’s breakfast bar, watching his boyfriend make poached eggs and toast. He’d slid a cup of coffee toward Ilya, with milk and sugar, telling Ilya that he wasn’t allowed to help with breakfast. So he sat, sipping his coffee, and appreciating the breadth of Shane’s shoulders and his trim waist and his perfect hockey ass.
Ilya let himself imagine that this was them in ten years. Not in an apartment, but a house, in Canada. Waking up together and having indulgent, slow sex before showering together, and making breakfast. Ilya imagined a future with his days full of Shane in every iteration.
Sleep Rumbled Shane and Wet Shane and Flustered Shane and Sweaty Shane and Pissed Off Shane and Laughing Shane and Shane in his Glasses.
Ilya felt so greedy. It was like every time they were together was only barely enough to sate him. He wanted Shane all the time. And not just sex wise. He wanted Shane’s body next to his while they slept. He wanted to cuddle on the couch and watch action movies together. He wanted to cook together. He wanted Shane to be within touching and kissing distance at all times.
Ilya knew that Shane had hit his breaking point by crying on their call last night and honestly, Ilya felt much the same. Being apart from Shane was a physical ache and having to do this for another four to five months was painful to think about. He had never wanted his contract to be up so badly before.
But Ilya shook himself from his thoughts. He was with Shane now and he would enjoy this time with him before he had to drive back to Boston.
“How long can you stay?” Shane asked over his shoulder.
“I have to leave early tomorrow,” Ilya replied. “I have practice at eleven o’clock.”
Shane hissed. “Early-early then.”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” Shane replied, plating the eggs. “We’ll make sure to get to bed at a reasonable time.”
“You are thinking that I will let you sleep,” Ilya replied, smiling at Shane, watching him blush at the implication of the words. Ilya’s smile widened.
“Ilya…”
He just chuckled and drank his coffee innocently. They had all day and Ilya had every intention of fucking Shane several more times before they had to go to sleep. Shane brought dishes with eggs and toast to the bar, then set down some butter, and jam.
They ate breakfast together and talked about the past few weeks, catching up on things they hadn’t been able to discuss over text or video calls. They talked about upcoming games and Shane showed Ilya some more of the information he’d put together for their charity.
Ilya could only do so much from Boston, when the charity would be set up in Canada, but Ilya loved how thorough Shane was, and appreciated that Shane kept him in the loop.
“I trust you,” Ilya told him.
“Even so,” Shane replied. “This is your charity, too. And your opinion is important to me.”
After that they cleaned up breakfast and made out on Shane’s couch, which led to Shane blowing Ilya, and jerking himself off as he did so. He loved that Shane loved giving blow jobs, how into it he got. He was fucking sexy as hell, too.
Ilya loved watching him; sliding his hand into Shane’s perfect, silky hair, watching the way his perfect pink lips wrapped around his dick, the way he moaned and hummed around Ilya as he sucked him. Like he was fucking made for it.
Ilya had had a lot of blow jobs in his life, by some truly hot people, but Shane was a fucking fantasy. And for someone who had never had any experience before, he was getting real fucking good at doing it. Ilya was impressed.
Now they lay on Shane’s couch, naked, a throw blanket tossed over them. Shane had his head on Ilya’s chest and Ilya stroked his hair while Shane’s thumb ran back and forth over Ilya’s pec.
“You are getting very good at that,” Ilya said.
“Hmm? At what?” Shane replied, sounding adorably sleepy.
“Blow jobs.”
Shane turned his head, his chin on Ilya’s sternum, looking up at him. “Yeah?”
Ilya nodded. “Yes. I have always liked when you blow me but… you are improving.”
Shane’s cheeks were already pink but now they flushed a much deeper red. He averted his eyes and Ilya let his lips quirk up in the corner.
“Good. I want to be better. For you.”
Ilya’s heart melted into complete goo. Shane’s voice was so soft and shy and Ilya was so in love with him it was ridiculous. Shane wanted to get better at sex, for Ilya. Not that sex between them had ever been bad… but… it could get better . And Shane wanted to be good at sex for Ilya. It was just so sweet! So very, very Shane Hollander.
And Ilya wanted to be good for Shane, too. To give Shane everything he desired, to satisfy him, and make him feel loved and sexy. He deserved that.
Ilya cupped Shane’s face in his hands and did a crunch in order to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him despite his core muscles starting to burn. Shane laughed, smiling, his nose crinkled and his freckles all bunched up, and Ilya couldn’t help himself.
“I love you so much, Shane,” he said, looking at him with awe and wonder. This sweet, shy superstar who loved Ilya and wanted to be good for him. “You are so good to me.”
Shane blushed more and Ilya held him close, pressing tender kisses to whatever parts of him he could reach, making Shane laugh. God, that laugh. He would never get enough of it. He’d never get enough of Shane.
They cuddled back together, faces tucked close. Shane kissed Ilya’s cheek and gently over one eyelid.
“I love you, too,” Shane murmured. “Very much. I still can’t believe you drove all the way here.”
Ilya nuzzled his face against Shane’s. “You needed me. So I came.”
Shane sighed. “No one has ever done that for me before,” he murmured, sounding tearful.
Ilya kissed him very softly.
“I will always come, if I am able.”
Shane sniffled. “Don’t say that. I can’t…”
Ilya smiled. “Why?”
“It’s too much,” Shane replied, his dark eyes glassy. “That’s… that’s a thing that people say in movies and romance novels…”
“You do not believe me?” Ilya asked, frowning. He was speaking the truth. He would move heaven and earth for Shane. Making a five hour car ride was nothing compared to the things he was willing to do for Shane. For them .
A few tears escaped down Shane’s cheeks and Ilya wiped them away with a careful thumb. Shane smiled despite the tears.
“I do believe you. You’re here for God’s sake,” he said. “But it feels unbelievable.”
Ilya supposed he understood what Shane was saying but it seemed straightforward to Ilya. If you loved someone, you would do whatever you needed to do to make them happy, and for you to be with them. Ilya loved Shane and wanted to be with him and for Shane to be happy. He wasn’t sure how to say all that in English, so he kissed Shane, and told him he loved him again.
Shane rested his hand on his cheek, stroking his thumb over his cheekbone.
“I love you,” he said, in Russian, and Ilya’s heart tumbled helplessly in his chest.
***
They napped and then worked out in what would have been an office but that Shane had made into a small workout space. Shane didn’t think it was safe to go out and get caught at the team’s gym or his building’s gym because there was no way to explain why Ilya was in Montreal.
So they did a circuit of dumbbell work, bodyweight movements (planks, sit ups, push ups) and stationary bike. They showered separately and Shane ordered them take out for lunch from his favorite Thai food spot.
They sat in the living room and watched a game while they ate Thai, then ended up making out some more, just kissing, running hands through hair, cupping faces, holding each other. They broke apart when lips were sore and oxygen became necessary again.
Shane would never get tired of kissing Ilya. It was maybe one of his favorite things. Ilya’s lips were soft and full, perfectly shaped no matter what they were doing. Shane loved the feel of them against his, against his skin, under his fingers, wrapped around him.
Ilya lifted Shane, hands under his ass to support him, as he stood up from the couch, surprising Shane.
“Hey!” he exclaimed, smiling despite himself, because Ilya showing off how strong he was fucking did it for Shane. “I can walk…”
Ilya shook his head and kissed his lips, then his neck.
“No.”
Shane laughed. “What do you mean, no ?”
“You heard me.”
Shane made an annoyed noise that turned into a giggle and Ilya smiled, nipping at him, and walking them to Shane’s bedroom. They fell into bed, bouncing on the mattress, laughing. Ilya kneeled between his legs, long fingers attached to large, warm, rough palms slid under Shane’s shirt, tugging it off.
They slowly undressed, kissing, not escalating anything. Shane rolled Ilya onto his back, straddling his hips, and looked down at him.
“Can I…?” he asked, though he wasn’t sure what it was he was asking exactly. Ilya raised his hands above his head, smiling.
“Whatever you want.”
Shane shook his head, resting his hands at the top of Ilya’s ribcage, and just… looked at him.
Shane knew all of Ilya’s official stats and bio (because of course he did) from the NHL. Six foot three, two hundred and twenty six pounds, born June 15, 1991 in Moscow, Russia, shoots right, and was drafted into the NHL in 2009 to Boston, first round, first pick.
He loved that he knew all of this information first hand. That he knew things about Ilya that no one else would ever know. He loved that he could appreciate Ilya’s size up close. Shane was athletic and not what anyone would describe as small but he felt small with Ilya. Which he liked. It made him feel safe. Ilya made him feel safe. And maybe Shane also just had a preference for long legged, broad shouldered, fit men.
Ilya was incredibly masculine. If Shane was honest, Ilya probably had the kind of body that most people envied. His features were all sharp and angular. His face always lazily stubbled, making him look handsomely rakish. His chest was covered in a dusting of dark hair and there was the one perfect trail right under his perfect belly button that Shane was kind of obsessed with.
He had perfect abs and thick, muscular thighs that Shane had first hand experience of on and off the ice. His ass, too. It was fucking perfect . Shane had been tempted on more than one occasion to sink his teeth into one of Ilya’s impressive glutes.
There really wasn’t any part of Ilya that Shane didn’t love, but his arms, chest, ass, and thighs were in the top ten. For sure.
Ilya tilted his head on the pillow, watching Shane watch him, a small, teasing smile gracing his generous mouth, but Shane didn’t feel self-conscious. He just wanted to take all of Ilya in. Appreciate him. He was truly beautiful. Shane hadn’t met anyone who could look so effortlessly gorgeous, regardless of the time of day or activity.
Shane reached out, gently twisting a golden-brown curl around his finger. He loved the softness of Ilya’s hair and how chaotic his curls were, a mix of waves and perfect, springy curls that Shane loved playing with. Their golden-brown color matched so well with his sparkling hazel eyes.
And Shane really liked Ilya’s eyes. They were gorgeous. A mix of light brown and green that was almost gold. They were surrounded by surprisingly delicate lashes and Shane loved the way they crinkled when Ilya smiled. Just like he was doing now.
Shane smiled back, unable to help it, his heart beating wildly as he looked down at this stunning man who loved him and who he loved back. Who had come all this way, for Shane. Who he would get to have a future with.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, leaning forward, his hands sliding up Ilya’s chest, over his stiff nipples and chest hair, and kissed him.
Ilya kissed him back, arms wrapped around his back, palms pressed to Shane’s ribs. Shane loved being held in these arms, loved being kissed by these lips. He felt loved and cherished and wanted and just as attractive as Ilya believed him to be.
He tried not to think about how he would have to say goodbye to Ilya in a few hours or how unfair it was for them to be apart.
“And you,” Ilya sighed as Shane changed the angle of the kiss, his hands sliding down to Shane’s ass. “Gorgeous.”
Shane let the word wash over him, smiling into the kiss. He worked his way down the long line of Ilya’s neck, to his muscular shoulder, over his collarbones, down between his pecs, his abs, to his hips.
Ilya stilled him before Shane could get to his cock, pulling him up for more heated kisses, before Ilya rolled Shane to his side.
“Can I fuck you like this?” he asked, tugging one of Shane’s legs over his hip, cupping a hand over Shane’s ass cheek, squeezing.
Shane blinked, eyes wide as one of Ilya’s fingers rubbed against his hole. “Yeah. Okay.” He was down for anything, honestly. And he trusted Ilya. They tried all sorts of new things when they were together, figuring out what they liked and didn’t like together.
So far, the only thing Shane hadn’t liked was being tied up. He was discovering that he liked discipline and being obedient. Ilya making something challenging or telling him to do something. No punishment or shaming. More like a game. He had not liked being restricted. That had been okay though. Shane had been so anxious and uncomfortable and he hadn't been sure about speaking up but Ilya could tell he didn’t like it and they’d stopped and talked about it.
That had been a pretty big shift in their relationship, for Shane at least. Knowing that he could speak up and Ilya would listen. He’d told Shane straight up that he only ever wanted the sex they had together to feel good and be fun. If either of them wasn’t into something, then they’d stop, no questions asked.
But Ilya always asked, too. Checking in with Shane. Is this okay? Does that feel good? Keep going? Are you alright?
Ilya’s hand slid under Shane’s thigh, then trailed between his legs to rub against his perineum and balls, bringing Shane back to the present. He hummed happily at the teasing touch and Ilya smiled.
“You were thinking very hard about something,” Ilya murmured, kissing the corner of his mouth.
“About you,” Shane replied, one hand pressed to Ilya’s shoulder blade. “How much I trust you.”
Ilya blinked slowly at him, reminding Shane of a cat. “Good.”
Shane smiled softly, his cheeks burning. Ilya kissed his top lip, then his bottom lip, then both of his lips together, slowly and carefully opening him up.
He took his time, kissing Shane as he slid his fingers in and out of him, rubbing up against just the right spot to make Shane start to quake, Shane seeking out friction by pressing his dick against Ilya’s hip.
“Come on,” Shane breathed. “I’m ready.”
Shane wasn’t sure what it was about this particular time. Whether it was because he and Ilya were eye to eye, pressed so close as Ilya pushed into him, or if it was just because this was a new position in general, or if because Shane had missed him so much that his heart felt more vulnerable than he’d been expecting, but he felt more emotional than he was anticipating.
Ilya was careful with him, taking his time to find just the right angle, just the right speed and depth that made Shane gasp and moan. He held onto his boyfriend, their mouths brushing together, not quite kissing.
“Okay?” Ilya murmured, his breaths puffing against Shane’s face as he moved in a steady rhythm.
“Yeah,” Shane replied. “Feels good.” It did, too. Not quite as deep but Shane loved the closeness, being able to touch Ilya, and kiss him. He tangled a hand in his hair, ran it over Ilya’s chest, wrapped his arm around him to hold him. The intimacy of it made Shane fizz.
Ilya eventually rolled Shane onto his back and Shane lifted his legs onto Ilya’s shoulders, letting Ilya bend him in half, fucking him fast and hard. Shane reached between them, stroking his own cock.
“Ilya,” he gasped before he came, long and hard.
Ilya wasn’t far behind him, head tilted back, mouth open, eyes closed as he stilled, and pulsed inside Shane. He folded forward, not quite leaning all his weight on Shane, and brushed a kiss over Shane’s cheekbone.
Shane blinked up at him, his eyes beginning to sting, his throat feeling tight.
“Oh Shane.”
“Sorry,” he breathed, covering his face with his hands as tears spilled down his cheeks. “I don’t know why…”
“Are you hurt?”
“N-no. I’m fine.”
Ilya pressed a few kisses to the back of Shane’s hands, nuzzling his nose against him as if trying to move Shane’s hands. Shane sniffled and wiped at his eyes and Ilya reached up to gently card a hand through his hair.
“One second,” Ilya murmured, carefully pulling out of Shane, sliding his legs to the mattress. Ilya bent to kiss Shane’s hip, then got up and went to the bathroom, coming back with a washcloth, and a box of tissues. He joined Shane again, leaving the tissues within reach, and gently cleaned Shane off.
Shane wiped his eyes and blew his nose and Ilya lay next to him, his hand curled around Shane’s bicep, thumb stroking over his skin.
Shane rolled onto his side. “I’m sorry I’m a mess.”
Ilya shook his head, smiling small, gently thumbing at Shane’s cheek. “Don’t be sorry.” He reached for Shane’s hand, taking it in his and pulling it close, kissing Shane’s knuckles.
“I will see you next week,” Ilya said, holding Shane’s hand. “And then for Christmas. The All-Star Game. A few more times this season for games and if I can steal a few days away. And we will have the whole summer and I will move to Ottawa…”
Shane felt his lip tremble again but he smiled, nodding. “Two hours is a lot better than five.”
Ilya chuckled. “Yes.”
“I love you so much…”
Ilya smiled and kissed him very softly. “Everything is okay. Hard, yes, but we are okay.”
Shane nodded. “Yeah. We’re okay.”
They lay together after that, just talking, Shane pressing his palm to Ilya’s, marveling at how small his hand seemed in comparison. Ilya pulled him close, peppering light, loving kisses across his forehead.
“We should sleep,” he murmured and Shane nodded in agreement, curling closer. He wished he could curl inside Ilya and be with him always.
***
“I love you,” Ilya murmured into Shane’s hair as they held one another in front of the door to Shane’s penthouse. He squeezed his boyfriend close and tight and Shane squeezed him back.
“I love you, too,” Shane replied, his voice quiet and sad. “Please drive safely. Let me know when you get home.”
“I will. I promise.”
They were both reluctant to let go but they did, at last, because Ilya really did need to leave. Shane’s lip trembled, his dark eyes shiny with unshed tears, and Ilya cupped his face, kissing over his eyelids, the line of his freckles, and the tip of his adorable little nose.
“Five days. That is not so bad.”
“Five days,” Shane murmured back.
They kissed once more, lingering, and finally pulled apart. Ilya opened Shane’s door and Shane took a steadying breath.
“I will text you and call you and I will be back soon, sweetheart.”
Shane smiled small and nodded. “Okay.”
Ilya looked at him. His sleep mussed hair and his dark eyes and sweet freckles and adorable nose and pretty pink mouth. He blew him a kiss before he left because if he didn’t leave now, he wouldn’t leave at all, and that would be an issue.
He walked down the hall to the elevator, feeling like he was missing half of himself. Because he was. Until he left Boston. Until he moved to Canada. A part of himself would reside here, with Shane.
Ilya would never feel whole until they were together. Forever.
FIN