Work Text:
Shit.
“ 's this weird?” Shane mumbled to himself. The living room was mercifully empty- Ilya was still outside. Every so often, Shane caught a glimmer of his blonde hair bobbing above the waves. At least that gave him the chance to freak out in private.
It’s not like him and Ilya were shy about intimacy- far from it- but there were plenty of things they’d never done before, and Ilya was always teasing him for being a "boring Canadian". Which is why, last week when Shane was uncharacteristically tipsy, he’d gotten it in his mind that it might be interesting to experiment a bit during their annual summer retreat. And then he’d gone the extra step and bought a nice pair of restraints off some mysterious website. And then he'd kind of forgotten about it, but those restraints had shown up at the front door of the cottage this morning. And now… he was turning them over in his palms while his boyfriend frolicked in the water, none the wiser.
Even after Shane’s brain decided this was weird, his skin still got all warm and prickly when he thought about how… interesting it might be to try. He already spent the money, right? And what was he going to do, drive to USPS and walk in with some handcuffs to send back to a seedy online sex store? That might be even more humiliating than actually trying this new thing.
And honestly, it could be good for Ilya to give up control, in that way. Shane certainly found it therapeutic for himself. Ilya had a lot of pressure on his shoulders, and in some moments, he cracked. Just slightly, and only in the presence of Shane, and only when he thought Shane wouldn't notice. What would it be like for Ilya to experience complete freedom from all expectations? To let someone else make the decisions, for once? To submit?
Tap.
Shane snapped his head back to the windows, only to find Ilya using his wet finger to draw a dick on it. Immediately, all his anxiety was replaced with irritation.
“Seriously?” he shouted across the room. Ilya just winked and took his time sauntering inside.
Normally, Shane would’ve had much more of an issue with all that lake water pooling onto his clean floors. But Ilya just looked so fucking good. Dripping wet, hair slicked back, with the early evening sun glowing like a halo behind him. And those mid-thigh swim shorts clung like they were painted on. Jesus.
He’d only been away in the lake for an hour, but he still greeted Shane with the kind of kiss that made his knees wobble. His lips were cool and wet from the water, but his tongue was searing hot, enough to steal all the air from Shane’s lungs.
Just as the kiss was starting to get heavy, Ilya pulled away and ran a hand through Shane’s hair.
“I need to shower. Come with me?” His wide, happy grin made it clear he knew Shane wouldn’t pass up on that offer.
Before he could reply, though, Ilya’s eyes caught sight of the item on the counter beside him. Somehow, his smile got even toothier.
“So, what? You are going to arrest me? For being too sexy?” he joked, gesturing to the cuffs.
Shane’s embarrassment rushed back in full force, along with a wave of something much hotter. Why did he assume Ilya might be into this? Why did he assume Ilya even wanted, much less, needed, someone else to take control? “I-ah- don’t know why-”
Ilya chuckled. “Fucking relax, Shane. You want me to tie you up and fuck you until you sob, yes? Sounds fun.”
Those words, in Ilya’s deep, accented voice, made Shane’s stomach clench. He wondered when, if ever, Ilya’s physical effects on him would wear off. Total immunity was probably a lost cause, but he could live with that. Like always, Ilya talking so explicitly made Shane a little braver. He squared his shoulders, and lifted his gaze.
“Actually, I wanted to tie you up.”
Shane half expected Ilya to laugh at that. Sure, he enjoyed when Shane manhandled him a little, but this was something much more intentional. They’d been dating for a year, had been fucking for much longer, and they’d never tried anything that earnestly flipped their power dynamic.
Ilya wasn’t laughing at him, though. Instead, he was studying him, looking both playful and deadly.
After a heavy stretch of silence, he grazed a hand across Shane's jaw. “Tell you what. If you can make me desperate enough, I will -maybe- let you tie me up.”
Already, Shane could feel himself being pulled into that hazy, pleasurable space that always occupied so much of their time up here. Part of him wanted to give in, let Ilya take the lead. But a much larger part of him wanted to see what he might be able to provide for Ilya tonight. For them, the physical breakthroughs always precede the emotional ones. Why would this be any different? Maybe if Shane fucked well enough, Ilya would let him in a little more.
“Deal,” Shane agreed.
Ilya pulled back and shrugged, the perfect picture of arrogance. “Will not matter, anyway. You will still come untouched, just from my cock. Will probably beg, too.”
“Fuck off.”
Ilya raised his hands in a mocking display of intimidation. “Oh, okay. Yeah, sure. It is not like you melt into a puddle of goo the moment I start speaking Russian in your ear.”
“You’re gonna be the goo puddle tonight, not me,” Shane insisted.
“Off to a great start. Very sexy words.”
“Such an asshole.”
“And so you will put me in my place, yes?” A teasing smile tugged at the corners of Ilya’s lips. In private moments, he’d admitted to liking it when Shane was a little pissed off. Fine. He could start there.
Instead of backing Ilya against the wall, Shane cradled his cheek in one hand and yanked him close with the other. He brought their mouths together and poured every ounce of his intent into the motion, using his entire body to kiss Ilya senseless. The moment Ilya started to moan into his mouth, Shane pulled back to admire his work. His boyfriend was still glistening wet from the lake water, but now his cheeks and lips were a deep pink.
“Let’s get you clean, huh?” Shane murmured.
Ilya bit back a grin and let himself be led to the bathroom. Shane tossed the handcuffs on the bed- they could figure that part out later. Right now, he wanted to concentrate on getting Ilya to let his guard down.
By the time Shane stripped his clothes off and folded them, Ilya was already naked and letting the hot water run all over him. He was half-hard, too- it never took much, and Shane loved that. But for now, he ignored it, instead focusing on lathering his hands with shampoo and running them through Ilya’s curls.
He closed his eyes and hummed, clearly content to let Shane massage his scalp.
“Feels good. Blow job would be better, though. Just saying…”
Shane smiled fondly. “You’re so annoying.”
Ilya just kept his eyes closed and dazzled him with a boyish grin. Shane had been thinking along the same lines, actually. But that wasn't the discovery he was looking for tonight.
As Shane continued to wash, his touches grew a little more lingering. He was enjoying this- feeling Ilya relax under his palms as the hot steam curled around him. His skin was wet and glistening, enough for Shane to track the rivulets of water sliding down the hard muscles of his torso. He wanted to lean forward and lick up all those droplets, maybe leave a few marks.
Ilya peeked an eye open. “I can feel you checking me out. Pervert.”
Judging by the hard cock digging into Shane’s hip, Ilya wasn’t as casual as he was pretending to be. He angled a little closer, savoring the way it made Ilya’s breath hitch. Shane let himself enjoy the contact for a second before moving away.
“Can’t get distracted. Still gotta condition your hair.”
Ilya’s smile nearly split his face in half. “Oh, fuck you. I see what you are doing. Will not work.”
Instead of pointing out the very obvious evidence of Ilya’s desire, Shane brought his hands back up to finish washing. He let his touches get a little rough, and Ilya actually sighed when Shane tugged his head back towards the water, pulling him by the hair. It made Shane feel... something. Which was surprising. He filed that away for later.
“Good?” Shane asked.
“Fuck off. I just like getting my hair played with, you know this, and you use it against me. Cruel man.”
To drive home that point, Shane leaned back in to give him a slow, lazy kiss. The slickness of their wet bodies made it all feel even more obscene, and Shane felt his own cock thicken with need. He had Ilya trapped against the wall of the shower, right where he wanted him.
“How many times do you think you can get me to come tonight?” he breathed into Ilya's mouth.
Ilya thought for a moment. “Three. Easy. Why?”
Of course he’d pick an insane number. Shane grinned like a wolf. “No reason.”
Ilya narrowed his eyes, but his gaze was still on Shane’s mouth. His pupils were blown, and he couldn’t hide the flush creeping up his neck. No amount of snark would cover up how badly he wanted it.
Abruptly, Shane stepped away. He almost didn’t want to- Ilya looked fucking delicious- but he needed to play this right. He needed Ilya to feel good, and supported, and safe.
“You finish up here. I’ll be in the bedroom.” He gave Ilya a chaste kiss on the cheek.
“Whatever, Hollander.”
Shane couldn’t tell if he was actually annoyed, or just playing it up for the sake of this experiment. As he made his way back to their room and got out a few more accessories to lay on the bed, he found he didn’t care.
That night in Vegas, Ilya had loved watching him. Shane still thought about it, sometimes. How the low lighting of the room made Ilya’s eyes look the color of spilled ink. All that barely-restrained lust, like he wanted to eat Shane one bite at a time. Maybe the novelty had worn off by now, but it might be worth a try. Just the thought of exposing himself like that again made Shane flush with anticipation.
“Thinking about how good I’m going to fuck you?” Ilya drawled from the doorway. He had a towel slung low on his hips, and it did nothing to hide the thick length of his cock.
Shane blushed harder. “Take the towel off. Come sit down.”
Ilya pursed his lips, and for a moment, Shane thought he was going to refuse and that would be the end of their little game. Surprisingly, he did as he was told. Sort of. As soon as his towel was off and he was spread on the bed, he looked Shane dead in the eye and started to stroke his own cock.
Instead of telling Ilya to stop, Shane leaned back against the footboard so they were facing each other. Their legs brushed, and Shane wanted more, but he refused to cave. He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t lose his nerve.
He went right back to the place he spent so many nights in, before they were together, back when they only had stolen hours. It was never enough, meeting up for a few quick fucks each season. So Shane had built himself an active fantasy life, vivid enough that he can still tap into it all this time later.
Slowly, he spread his thighs wider. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel Ilya’s gaze heavy on his body. It burned him alive in the best way- he was probably tinted pink all over, but he didn’t care.
He imagined he was alone, on the road somewhere in one of their early seasons together. Ilya was a world away, and Shane hadn’t gotten laid in forever, but it never mattered, because every plane of his body remembered exactly what Ilya felt like.
Shane started to stroke himself, and the tension gathering in his stomach unspooled into something much more delectable. He thumbed the underside of his cock and leaked all over his hand. After a rush of instinctual embarrassment, he remembered that was a normal bodily response. One that Ilya happened to love.
“Fuck,” Ilya groaned from the other end of the bed. Shane opened his eyes to find him leaning forward, captivated.
“Lay back."
Immediately, Ilya did as he was told. Damn. A new flash of heat curled through Shane’s body. He liked seeing Ilya bow to him. Powerful, confident, arrogant Ilya, melting for him like candy on his tongue. Was he really going to do this? Command his boyfriend and actually enjoy it?
Yes. Just like that, a switch flipped in Shane’s head. He could do this. He could get Ilya to be vulnerable, and he could get them both off. Tonight was going to be a very efficient use of time.
“Shit," Shane grinned. "Might let you watch a little more, if you keep listening so well.”
Ilya bit his lip and nodded, gaze still obediently focused between Shane’s legs. That sight alone was enough to make Shane’s head spin.
Slow down. Shane closed his eyes again, breathing deep. If he crawled on top of Ilya right now and begged for what he really wanted, of course he would get it. But he could wait, especially if it meant heightening Ilya’s pleasure.
Shane tilted his head back and let himself plunge back into those familiar fantasies that had fed him for so many years. Ilya, pounding into him with all the power in that unrelenting body. Ilya, rolling his hips deep and slow. Ilya, filling him so well he forgot everything other than the heavy drag of the perfect cock inside him.
“Fuck,” Shane groaned. He was already close, just from imagining it. The heat in his blood made him bold enough to open his eyes again.
The sight that greeted him was absolutely mouthwatering. Ilya’s jaw was slack, with a sexy blush painting his cheeks. His eyes were half-lidded, and he was practically drooling.
“Enjoying yourself?” Shane asked. His voice was still a little shakier than he intended.
Ilya didn’t seem to notice, though. He just swallowed loud, looking like he couldn’t decide whether to stare at Shane’s face or his cock.
Shane chose to be merciful and help him out with that decision. He spread his legs a little wider, and reached for the lube he’d set out.
He held Ilya’s gaze as he slicked his fingers and brought them between his legs. He was so hard that even the lightest touch might send him over the edge. He chanced it anyway, though, bringing his legs high enough to give Ilya a nice view.
Shane moaned in relief the second his fingers started to circle his hole. He needed this, fuck. He teased himself a little, dipping a slick finger inside just to feel the stretch and the way it made him shudder.
“Jesus Christ,” Ilya breathed. “Let me touch. Please.”
Please. Shane had never, ever heard Ilya say it like that. Instead of answering, he rolled his hips, taking his finger deeper.
“Shit, Ilya,” Shane’s voice hitched. “Think I might come just like this. Feels so good.”
Ilya huffed in frustration. “No. I-”
He cut himself off with an anguished sound when Shane added a second finger, plunging them deep.
“Enough, Shane. We both want me to fuck you, yes? So let’s do that.”
Ilya knew. He knew who was in control- not in the little game they were playing. For real.
Shane rewarded him with a lazy grin. “You wanna fuck me?”
“Yes. Fuck. What kind of idiotic question is that?”
Instead of answering, Shane angled his chin towards the cuffs to his left. In truth, he’d ride Ilya within an inch of his life whether or not this plan came to fruition, but Ilya didn’t need to know that.
“Fine.”
Shane added a third finger and shivered. “Mmm. Say again?”
“You can… do it.”
He took a good look at his boyfriend. Ilya did look frustrated, but he also looked… intrigued. Desperate. Fucking horny, thank God. And he certainly wasn’t one to be forced into something he didn’t actually want.
Still, Shane watched Ilya’s face closely as he made his way to the other end of the bed. He held eye contact as he straddled Ilya’s chest, bringing his hands above his head.
Shane hovered with the open cuffs, still looking for any hint of hesitation.
Ilya lifted his chin in defiance. “Get on with it, Hollander.”
Click.
The sound of the cuffs closing around Ilya’s wrists was clean and crisp. And he looked so fucking hot, all stretched out and tied to the headboard.
“Okay?”
Ilya nodded. His eyes were already starting to glaze over with… something. He looked like he felt safe. Like he knew Shane would take good care of him. Pride bloomed in Shane’s chest, almost enough to compete with the warm desire flooding through the rest of his body.
“You said you could get me to come three times tonight. Still think that’s the case?”
Ilya nodded again. The ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of his pretty lips.
“I hope so,” Shane continued. “Since you’re not allowed to finish before we hit that goal.” Shane found it helped to be given specific parameters. Ilya might benefit, too, but he was the one currently narrowing his eyes in suspicion.
Shane smiled, a little too innocent. “What, you don’t think you can do it? We can pick a lower number, if you-”
“I can do it.”
Too easy. Maybe Ilya was just playing the game, but Shane was starting to suspect otherwise. Sure, the cockiness was still there. But there was something else, too- hopefully even Ilya fucking Rozanov liked to be taken care of every once and awhile. And fuck, it was hot, having a big, strong man bound up like this, ready to be cherished and then ruined.
Shane fought his instinct to dive deep, to devour. He knew every secret quirk of Ilya’s body, from the spot behind his ear to the place at the crease of his left thigh. He knew exactly where to kiss, lick, suck, bite. Just the thought of making Ilya squirm gave him a dizzying rush of power, which is exactly why he decided to take his time. If he savored this gift properly, they’d both be rewarded.
So he started slow, ghosting his fingers down the soft warmth of Ilya’s inner arms. Lower. He traced along the gold chain resting at the perfect V of Ilya’s clavicle. Even that small contact made Ilya’s skin prickle with chills. When Shane met his eyes again, he was a little shocked by the mounting desperation in them.
“Need something, sweetheart?” Shane murmured.
The shiver that ran down Ilya’s body was almost imperceptible. Usually, he was the one calling Shane sweetheart, lover, baby, whatever. And it melted Shane down to his core, every single time. He was thrilled to find that the feeling was mutual.
Ilya rolled back his neck, trying to look unbothered. “What I need is for you to hurry the fuck up, Hollander.”
His words were harsh, but his tone was a dead giveaway- way too low and breathy to actually sound angry. Shane smirked.
“You keep talking, Ilya. So critical, too. Hurts my feelings.”
“You know what hurts my feelings? Earlier, you did not suck me off in the shower. Very devastating.”
“I thought about it,” Shane admitted. He bit his lip in the way he knew Ilya liked. “But then… maybe this sounds stupid… I kind of wanted every last drop of your cum fucked deep inside my hole instead of down my throat.”
Ilya licked his lips, eyes clouding over with lust. “That,” he rasped, “is really hot, Shane. Jesus, fuck.”
“I do want you in my mouth a little, though. Love how heavy you feel on my tongue," he continued. God, he was enjoying this even more than he thought he would. Ilya was bright red all the way down to his chest, and the little muscles in his jaw kept ticking back and forth.
“Just make sure you don’t come, okay?”
Ilya looked like he was going to die, or maybe kill something. “Yes, Shane, Christ. I promise, just touch me, for fuck’s sake-”
Before he could finish that thought, Shane shifted his weight and turned around. He was still seated in the middle of Ilya’s torso, but now he was staring at Ilya’s gorgeous thighs instead of his gorgeous face. And between those thighs-
Ilya swore in Russian as Shane leaned forward and kitten-licked the tip of his cock. It was dumb and playful, meant to tease more rather than elicit any sort of intense pleasure reaction. Which is why Shane was fascinated to see a delicate bead of precum pool at Ilya’s slit and drip obscenely down his dick.
“Mmm. Excited?”
“Fuck. You.” Ilya gritted out.
“Maybe if you’re good.”
He didn’t give Ilya the chance to talk back. Instead, he moved his mouth to Ilya’s cock and his ass to Ilya’s face.
He hadn’t even properly settled his weight before he felt Ilya’s warm tongue start to work over his hole. And then Ilya moaned, loud and shameless, and the vibration of it reverberated right up Shane’s spine. It took every bit of Shane’s hard-earned discipline to keep his eyes from rolling to the back of his skull. He was so open, dripping in the cool air as Ilya’s mouth drenched him.
If Shane didn’t focus on something else, all that mind-numbing pleasure would unravel the power he’d so carefully curated. So he did his best to steady his trembling thighs and lean forward enough to take the head of Ilya’s cock back into his mouth.
Apparently, Ilya hadn’t been expecting that, despite the abundance of context clues. His hips jerked up the moment Shane touched him, and he fucking whined, hot and needy. The sound went straight to Shane’s cock, and he drove his head lower, taking Ilya deeper into his body. The stretch of his lips and the mounting soreness in his jaw only made him crave more. He’d never quite managed to take Ilya all the way into his throat. And not for lack of trying- Ilya was just fucking big, and he usually stopped Shane before he could properly gag on it. As if choking to death on nine inches of his favorite person wouldn’t be an ideal way to die.
Well, Shane was in control now. And if he wanted to deep throat his boyfriend, he was going to fucking do it, and Ilya couldn’t even talk back or argue, because he had a face full off ass. With that decided, Shane took a long breath and tried to relax his neck.
It was pretty manageable, until he got to the halfway point. His throat spasmed without his permission, and the corners of his eyes prickled with tears. Fuck. He refused to cave to his stupid gag reflex, or the burning tension in his lungs. He’d led his team to three consecutive cup wins, for fucks sake. He wasn’t going to let the comparatively minor challenge of asphyxiation deter him.
He pushed forward and felt the moment Ilya’s cock started to slide down. Ilya must have felt it, too, because he made a strangled sound and sunk his teeth into Shane’s left asscheek.
Shane moaned around the cock in his mouth, feeling a little slutty as he took it deeper and felt it fucking pulse. Ilya’s head fell back. At least, Shane thought it did. He was still facing away, but he heard a heavy thud on the pillow.
“Oh- Sh-ane…”
He cut himself off with a choked-out gasp as soon as Shane’s lips met his pelvis.
Goddamn.
Shane hummed around him, aching with so much lust that it made him dizzy. He felt so full, like Ilya was making a home in his chest. He was too far gone to even bother wiping the saliva dripping from the corners of his mouth. They were going to have to clean the sheets after this, anyway.
He didn’t feel like moving yet, so he leisurely traced the thick vein on Ilya’s cock with his tongue. Ilya throbbed again, and even that subtle movement seemed to echo through Shane’s entire body.
Slowly, he pulled off, savoring the way it made Ilya’s thighs tremble.
“Close already, baby?”
Ilya huffed a few lungfuls of air before answering. “You want gold medal or something?” The retort would have been a lot more scathing if Ilya’s breath hadn’t caught on every word.
Shane arched his back, just enough to tease. “I have enough gold medals.”
Ilya, of course, took the invitation for what it was. He leaned forward again and put his tongue exactly where Shane needed it most.
For a while, the only sounds were the soft hitch of breath and the quiet clink of handcuffs against the headboard. The sensations washed through Shane, wave after wave, cresting perfectly but never quite pulling him under. It was too much, right at the edge of something, but also not nearly enough.
The thing that broke him, in the end, was bringing Ilya pleasure. He couldn’t help himself. Ilya’s cock was right there, looking full and flushed and too tempting to pass up. Shane found himself sucking at the tip, tracing his slit, and taking him down again. The feeling of Ilya in his throat was fucking mind-numbing. Shane was obsessed with the warm weight, stretching his jaw so wide he was already looking forward to tomorrow's ache.
Arousal curled deep in his gut, ready to snap at the next tilt of his hips or touch of his cock against Ilya’s stomach. He couldn’t help it- he leaned back, fully seating himself on Ilya’s face until all he could feel was the perfect worship of his boyfriend’s mouth.
One last shift of his weight had him falling apart at the seams, completely unmade as his orgasm rolled through every muscle of his body. He spilled all over Ilya’s abs, glazing his torso more thoroughly with every rut of his hips. Ilya’s tongue coaxed him through it- he slowed and quickened with every swell of pleasure. It was so fucking intimate, the way he was aware of every rhythm of Shane’s body.
When he finally came down, Ilya gave him a playful nip on the ass.
“One down. Two to go.” The satisfaction in his voice was unmistakable, but Shane wasn’t about to let go of his hard-earned control. He had just enough awareness to flex his throat around Ilya’s cock and suck him in a little tighter.
“Hoh-” Ilya made a suffocated sound, and his hips twitched up in desperation.
With one last cruel twirl of his tongue, Shane sat back up. His legs were still a little wobbly, but he managed to keep himself upright as he readjusted to face Ilya again.
The sight that greeted him was stupidly hot. Every hard line of Ilya’s body was tight with desperation, and his curls were rumpled perfectly, clinging to his face from the drying water of the shower. In truth, he looked well-fucked, despite not having come yet.
“Doing okay?” Shane asked, his tone light and innocent. He tilted his hips back, just enough to drag his ass against Ilya’s tortured cock. The move made Ilya hiss through his teeth, and Shane watched the pretty tendon in the side of his neck flex.
“God, you’re so fucking hard. Does it hurt? I could feel you pulsing in my throat. You must have wanted to come so bad.”
Ilya huffed in frustration. “People think you are nice, Shane. They always say, ‘oh, Shane Hollander? Great guy. Very polite.’ ”
“Yeah?” Shane lifted himself up again, catching lightly on Ilya’s cock. He ground against it, rolling his hips long and slow, like they were fucking. All Ilya could do was force his eyes closed and grit his teeth.
Already, Shane could feel his own cock start to respond. Seeing Ilya like this… he never realized how sensual it would be. They’d had so many different types of sex over the years, from hot to playful to loving. And now they could have a new type of sex, one where Shane tormented him beyond all reason.
Ilya just strained his neck closer, trying desperately to get within sucking distance of Shane’s stiffening cock. The sheer force of his movement had the handcuffs snapping against the headboard, but they held.
Without thinking, he tangled a hand through Ilya’s curls and forced his head back onto the pillow. That must have unraveled something, because Ilya moaned and mindlessly rolled his hips up. He had nothing to rub against, but he didn’t seem to care. He looked lost, fucked-out beyond measure, and desperate to get his mouth around Shane’s dick. Which was fully hard again, on account of his boyfriend dissolving into a whorish little mess beneath him.
He eased his grip on Ilya’s hair, massaging lazy circles on his scalp. Even that didn't distract him- he was still eyeing Shane’s cock like it was his next meal.
“Can’t believe I get to see you like this.” Shane didn’t even bother to try and hide the awe in his voice. Ilya had earned it. He looked so hot, trapped between Shane’s thighs. He’d look even better with his mouth full, though.
Shane lined himself up. “Tap my back with your knees if you need me to pull off.”
“W-will not need,” Ilya huffed, eyes still set between Shane's legs. His lips were parted, fucking waiting. Shane thumbed the bottom one, feeling how plush and full it was from the work he’d already done.
“So pretty for me,” Shane praised. “Open wider, love?”
Immediately, Ilya obeyed. The sight made Shane’s belly glow with heat, especially as Ilya’s tongue lolled out to wet his lips. Getting himself ready. For Shane.
The angle was terrible, but Shane still almost keeled over the second he started to push into the soaking heat of Ilya’s mouth. His tongue was warm and perfect, melting the last of Shane’s restraint.
“Fucking hell,” he rumbled. He flexed his thighs around Ilya and glided deeper, hitting the back of his throat and drawing out a tortured moan from them both. He wasn’t all the way inside, but it barely mattered. Ilya hummed around him, content to lay there and warm his cock while he adjusted to the oversensitivity flooding his body.
“Okay?”
By way of answer, Ilya sucked. Hard. Stars popped behind Shane’s eyes, and he had to grip the headboard to keep himself from passing out. That would be fucking embarrassing.
Ilya was too far gone to notice, though. He blinked up at Shane, like, did I do good? It was dizzying, to see Ilya so needy for approval. He'd seen glimmers of this before, but Ilya rarely let himself be this physically vulnerable, even with Shane.
“You’re being so good for me.” Shane stroked his hair, gentle with his hand and not-so-gentle with the way he rocked his hips. He intended to reward Ilya with all the praise he could give tonight, both verbal and physical.
Ilya’s eyes rolled back when Shane hit deeper, meeting the curve of resistance that he wouldn't be able to pass. When Ilya realized their angle wouldn’t allow him to take any more, he aborted the failed attempt with a groan of frustration.
“S’okay, baby,” Shane soothed. “I know you want all of it. But I like this angle. Need to see your face. You’re just so fucking hot when you cry...”
Ilya whined and tried to take him deeper again, but Shane pulled back, keeping his movement shallow. In reality, he was close already. Even short thrusts were almost too much, but if he had one fucking talent in this life, it was discipline. He’d make this last a little longer, at least.
He really did want to see Ilya’s face. He looked impossibly blissful, like he was on the verge of coming, just from sucking Shane’s cock. And maybe he was. Shane would never recover from that, and the thought alone was enough to get him moving faster.
“Could fuck you for real one day,” he slurred. Maybe Ilya wasn’t the only delirious one. He’d never asked for that before, barely even thought about it, but right now, with the way he was rutting into Ilya’s soft mouth, it wasn't so hard to imagine. It was hot to imagine, even.
“Could bend you over, open you up nice and s-low,” Fuck, he could lose his mind just picturing it. Ilya let out a muffled moan, completely unashamed to also be caught up in the fantasy.
“Jesus, Ilya. No one’s ever done that to you, have they? Bet you’d feel so fucking tight, coming around my cock. I’d take care of you. Split you open and then put you back together.”
Those tears were streaming down Ilya’s face now, carving beautiful rivers along his cheeks. Without thinking or slowing his rhythm, Shane swept them away with his thumb.
“Okay?”
Even as Ilya absorbed the force of Shane’s thrusts, he managed a nod.
“M’close. You want it in your mouth?”
Ilya's eyes fluttered closed. The broken groan he let out sent a tremor right through Shane’s cock. He interpreted that as a fuck, yes.
He’d thought his second orgasm would be sharp and sudden, too blindingly intense to stand. Instead, it was a mounting tide, pulling him so high that his legs went numb. He soared, finding surge after surge of pleasure at the back of Ilya’s soaking wet throat.
He didn’t realize how hard he’d crushed Ilya between his legs until he started to squirm a little. Shane blinked back tears and gazed down to find his boyfriend looking content, if not a bit suffocated.
“Sorry,” Shane exhaled. He held back a whine as he pulled out, even as Ilya gave his cock a parting kiss.
For a moment, they just stared at each other. Then Ilya broke into a shit-eating grin.
“Two,” he croaked. His voice was fucking wrecked, but he looked too satisfied with himself to mind.
Shane readjusted so he was seated comfortably between Ilya’s legs. He should probably give his boyfriend a breather, but…
Ilya eyed him suspiciously. “Shane-”
Too late. Shane had already flattened himself onto his belly, feet hanging off the bed. Perfect dick-sucking position.
“What?” he asked sweetly.
“I will not last, if you- Oh-”
Fuck, Ilya tasted so good. He was absolutely rigid on Shane's tongue, right on the edge. He writhed in the sheets, hissing and cussing through his teeth, twisting his wrists. With an obscene little pop, he pulled his lips off Ilya, switching to a lazy hand grip as he spoke.
“Think I’m gonna need to stretch myself out again before I take you. You wanna watch?”
Ilya whined under his breath, leaking slickness all over Shane’s hand.
“Mmm. Thought so."
He stopped stroking, much to Ilya’s frustration. But he made up for that quickly. He licked his slick hand, taking extra time to suck on his fingers and savor Ilya's taste.
“Trying to kill me,” Ilya whispered helplessly, almost to himself. Shane didn’t deny it, just sat back up and draped his thighs wide over Ilya’s. He grabbed the clear little bottle waiting for him and poured a generous amount onto his palm.
Ilya’s unwavering gaze was fixed on his hole as he slid a finger inside. There was almost no resistance, just a palpable feeling of relief. It wasn’t nearly enough, but it took the edge off, especially when he saw the way Ilya’s eyes went glassy.
With a little more effort, he added another finger. The burn was tight and pleasant, buzzing through his body in a perfect ache.
Time turned liquid as Shane fucked himself- long moments of almost getting exactly what he needed, but not quite being able to reach it. It was enough to get him hard again, but the sensitivity was almost painful. It made Ilya looked sharp around the edges, focused like his salvation rested between Shane’s thighs. His gaze was a physical weight, fixing Shane in place, heating him all over. When that heat reached a high that Shane could no longer endure, he grabbed for the dildo he’d set out and started slicking it up.
He saw the moment Ilya’s eyes landed on it- the swell of his pupils was impossible to miss, even through his expression of surprise.
“You will let me watch?” Ilya’s voice was so hopeful- sweet, even. Shane almost laughed out loud. Of course he wanted Ilya to look. That was the whole fucking point.
He lined the toy up, and Ilya stopped breathing. When Shane started to push, they both watched in awe as inch after inch disappeared inside him. His body clutched so tightly around the intrusion, without even trying. Ilya was obsessed with that, and in his more conceited moments, Shane could admit to being obsessed with it too.
Slowly, he rocked the dildo back and forth. Oh. Not painful, anymore. The shiver started at his pelvis and spread all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes.
“Hah-”
“Shane-”
“Mmmm?”
Ilya squirmed in place. “Please. I need…” he trailed off, pulling at the cuffs as he stared longingly between Shane’s legs.
Shane closed his eyes and savored the mind-numbing drag of the toy inside him. He angled his hips wide to give Ilya a better view.
“Жoпа,” Ilya huffed. Brat. Shane would be fluent in Russian one day, but for now, he just knew the more useful words and phrases.
“You love it.”
Ilya neither confirmed nor denied that allegation. He didn’t have to, not with how wrecked he looked.
And Shane was going to make it worse.
In one smooth motion, he pulled the dildo out and sat all the way up, straddling his knees on either side of Ilya’s hips.
“Oh, thank fuck,” Ilya wheezed. He jerked his pelvis up in a desperate circle, just off base from what he so clearly craved. He was seeking friction, anything, to rub against his aching cock. Shane suspected that a strong gust of wind might be all it took to make him come.
“Easy,” Shane chuckled. His tone was soft, but the way he used his legs to pin Ilya’s hips to the bed wasn’t.
Ilya made a frustrated sound, bucking up again. The movement was restricted, completely useless, and probably one of the hottest things Shane had ever seen. Physically, Ilya was never uncoordinated- in bed or on the ice. Except for now, apparently. He was thrashing around, so clumsy and fucking needy that Shane almost gave it to him, then and there. Almost.
“You’d let me do anything I wanted to you, huh?” Shane rocked his hips, slow and filthy, catching the rim of his hole on the head of Ilya’s cock.
“Yes. God-”
He went completely still and silent the moment Shane properly lined them up.
“You wanna be inside me? Stuff me nice and full with your cock?”
Ilya nodded feverishly. He pulsed in Shane’s grip.
In truth, Shane would die if he waited any longer. The second Ilya's broad cockhead popped past his inner ring, he let out the most pornographic sound he'd ever made in his life. Ilya was bigger than the dildo, so thick and hot that Shane’s vision turned white around the edges. All he wanted was to take it right to the root, feel Ilya deep in his stomach. Instead, he pulled off after an inch and tried to ignore the gnawing emptiness that followed.
Ilya practically whined, jostling himself against Shane but unable to find proper leverage with the way he was pinned down.
“Use your words, love. What do you want?”
For a moment, Ilya just stared at him in disbelief. His chest heaved rapidly, so quick that Shane might be concerned under different circumstances. There was defiance and pride in his eyes, but even more so, a frantic need.
“глубже. Need to come so bad, Hollander, please-”
Really, Shane loved nothing more in the world than to bring Ilya pleasure. Still, he didn’t expect his boyfriend to let out a choked-off sob of relief as he started to sink back onto his cock.
“So good, любимый,” Ilya gasped, “perfect- oh, jesus-”
Ilya's eyes rolled back as Shane settled into his favorite place in the world. It was insane, how good Ilya still felt after all these years. They’d done this a thousand times, but his mind still went blank every time Ilya bottomed out. As he came back to his body in slow pieces, he could at least be satisfied with the knowledge that Ilya was similarly affected. Especially now, after being denied all night. Shane wasn’t even moving yet, and he could feel the heavy twitch of Ilya’s cock deep inside him.
“такой большой,” Shane hummed. So big. He smiled down at Ilya and shifted his weight just to feel more of that perfect, burning stretch.
“Don’t fucking move,” Ilya begged. “And no Russian-”
“Mmmmm.” Shane made a teasing circle with his hips. “Gonna come already?”
Ilya chewed at his bottom lip and nodded. He looked so fucking desperate, but also a little embarrassed. Shane leaned down to kiss that silly self-consciousness right out of his brain.
By all rights, the kissing should have felt less filthy than the fucking. But here they were, unraveling each other with nothing but their sloppy tongues and teeth. Finally, some of Ilya’s muscles started to relax. Shane moaned in approval, rewarding him with a few light rocks of his hips.
With Ilya's body finally calming down, Shane sat back up. “Gonna go nice and slow, kay?”
“Oh-kay.”
Shane kept to his word, lifting and lowering himself for deep, long contact. Every inch carved him right down the middle, leaving him open and blissful. Fuck. He was actually going to come for a third time tonight. But not by himself. He sped up a little- other than being the best hockey player on the planet, this was his main physical talent. He could ride a fucking dick, and all Ilya could do right now is lay there and enjoy it.
Probably not for much longer, though. Ilya was fucking gone. His eyes overflowed with appreciation, so much that a few tears trailed out of the corners. Too tasty to waste- Shane leaned down and licked them up, pausing to nuzzle his mouth in the crook of Ilya’s neck. He couldn’t stop himself from giving a few kisses and bites, even as the rhythm of his hips turned more punishing and Ilya started to whimper.
“Wonder what your teammates would think, if they could see you right now,” he mused into Ilya's ear. “Or your fans…”
He sat back up, just enough to gaze into Ilya’s eyes. Years of love and heat and understanding, all somehow contained in the space of two perfect irises.
“Imagine that. Their star, their captain, reduced to Shane Hollander’s slutty little plaything.”
“Yes. Fuck, Shane,” Ilya wheezed. He looked wild, and so goddamn beautiful, with his curls sweat-darkened and sticking to his flushed cheeks.
“You’re such a whore for me, Ilya,” Shane said. His tone was soft and knowing, without even a hint of degradation.
Ilya closed his eyes, like just looking at Shane would be enough to undo him. He was hanging on by a thread- digging his fingernails into the meat of his palms, trying desperately to breathe through his nose. Shane wasn’t faring much better. Every drag of Ilya’s cock against his prostate practically made his eyes cross, and his rhythm was getting messy, which would probably stress him out if Ilya was more coherent.
For the first time all night, he let his own desperation show. He went straight for Ilya’s mouth, warm and messy, more concerned with closeness than technique. Somehow, it still made him dizzy, and the loud slap of their bodies became the only thing tethering Shane to this earth. He was at risk of soaring away, too full of his favorite person. Searing heat coiled low in his belly, and everything else became so fucking unimportant.
Somehow, Shane’s cock was the last place he felt his orgasm. It started somewhere else, somewhere deeper, somewhere only Ilya could ever hope to reach. It bloomed through him, violent and perfect, marked by thick bands of cum painting Ilya’s chest. A distant part of his mind was confused- shouldn’t he have run dry by now? But this was Ilya inside him, draining out every drop.
Ilya, who lost his mind the second he saw the heavy gush of Shane’s release. Or maybe it was the way Shane was gripping around him, body squeezing rhythmically through his climax.
One jerky upward thrust and Ilya was spilling deep inside and showing Shane the whites of his eyes. Shane kept moving, guiding him through it, prolonging both of their pleasure until it became too fucking much and he collapsed onto Ilya’s chest.
At some point, he must have melted right into Ilya’s body. That’s the only thing that could explain how the steady thrum of their beating hearts were perfectly in sync. Fast at first, and then gradually slower. It should be impossible to keep falling deeper in love with one person. Every time Shane thought he’d reached his limit, he was proven wrong.
He might have fallen asleep, or died and come back to life, but either way, he was roused by Ilya giving him a tender kiss on the head.
Shane shot up into sitting position the second he realized Ilya was still tied up. “Shit. Sorry.”
He scrambled for the key on the nightstand and made quick work of the cuffs, massaging Ilya’s wrists. There were no indents, but it couldn’t have been comfortable. Ilya didn’t seem to mind, though. His eyes were still glossy, and he was looking at Shane like he hung the fucking moon.
“You in there?” Shane joked.
Ilya just leaned forward and brushed their noses together. It was so goddamn cute that Shane’s heart fluttered in his chest.
“How about I get a bath ready, okay?”
By way of answer, Ilya enveloped him in a hug. It lasted so long that Shane practically had to wrestle himself away.
He made his way to the bathroom with all the grace of a newborn fawn. Eucalyptus. That’s what he’d put in the water. Ilya’s favorite.
When everything was ready, he poked his head back into the bedroom only to find Ilya on his way. He was walking like his legs were made of overcooked spaghetti. At least Shane wasn’t the only one.
After he threw the gross bedding in the washer, he finally let himself ease into the warmth of the tub. The hot water was perfect, and so was the way Ilya was snuggled up to his chest, head tucked neatly under his chin.
He rotated between stroking Ilya’s hair and massaging along the lines of his body, everywhere he could reach. He loved getting to take care of Ilya. Even more, he loved the rare, fleeting moments when Ilya allowed it.
“Thanks for tonight,” Shane whispered.
Ilya hummed softly and leaned up just enough to give Shane a peck on the cheek. Shane could hear the smirk in his voice as he spoke.
“Was okay, I guess.”
