Archive of Our Own ^beta

Shane has had…an interesting dating history. 

He’s managed to get insanely lucky, somehow scoring Ilya Rozanov as a boyfriend. How he managed to bag a star NHL player, he had no idea. It still felt unreal to wake up next to Ilya every morning. 

His life was genuinely amazing. He was working his dream job in sports medicine as a rehabilitation aide for professional athletes, he had an amazing boyfriend, he had friends, he had a wonderful dog and a beautiful house. 

But it hadn’t always been like that. 

Shane has only had two partners prior to Ilya. Not counting one night stands and awkward high school kisses, he’d only seriously dated two people before Ilya. 

His first boyfriend had been…

It hadn’t been bad, necessarily. Shane had met Matt in his second year of university, eager to get a taste of the college romance everyone seemed to always talk about. They had lasted all of six months before breaking it off. 

Well, it was more Matt breaking it off with Shane, than anything else. The first two months of the relationship had been pretty textbook. They went on dates, they kissed, they had sex. But the whole time it had felt like Matt liked the idea of a relationship more than actually being in one with Shane. 

Slowly, it turned into Shane planning everything. It started to feel like pulling teeth to get Matt to show enthusiasm for dates, and eventually Matt broke up with Shane. Through text. His reasoning?

I’m just getting sort of bored. You’re kind of a stick in the mud. You never want to go out to frats or sororities or clubbing, you always only talk about hockey and studying. I just need someone more exciting, it’s nothing personal.

Yeah, that had stung. 

So Shane had sworn off dating for a bit, after that. That night, he had invited Rose and Miles over and they all drank at least two bottles of wine between the three of them, watching shitty movies and insisting that Shane deserved better anyways. 

For the rest of his university experience, Shane focused on his studies. He’d occasionally go out with Hayden, Jackie, and J.J., maybe find a nice strong man to make out with, but otherwise Shane embraced the title of stick in the mud with pride. 

Stick in the mud was what got him a 4.0 gpa. Stick in the mud was what got him his athletic trainer’s certification. Stick in the mud was how he managed to get into his dream career field. 

Three years after Matt, one year post undergrad, Shane was in a CAATE accredited masters program, hoping and praying he’d be able to pass his BOC exam when the time came. This was also the year Shane met Eric. 

Eric had been Shane’s second boyfriend, and he’d been bad. 

Things started off like a dream. The honeymoon phase had been strong. Shane hadn’t been in a real relationship in years, his parents lived hours away, and his friends were more often busy than not, so he’d been sort of pathetically desperate to feel loved. 

And Eric had given him that. At first. 

Eric had been a few years older than Shane, working in finance for his dad’s business. 

He would swing by the library and bring Shane coffee and lunch if he knew Shane was studying all day. He brought Shane to hockey games, genuinely looking interested in what Shane had to say about the statistics of the athletes, the history of the game, how that one guy looked like he could really benefit from stretching his hip flexors more before playing. 

They went on dates. Some planned by Shane, but lots of them planned by Eric. He had even asked for Shane’s schedule, so he knew the best times to make dinner reservations or swing by to cook. His parents liked Eric, Eric’s family liked Shane. 

And the sex had been great, too. Eric was a little taller than Shane, not by much, but just enough to make him feel small in bed in the best way possible. 

It seemed perfect. Shane had been doing well in grad school, he was seeing a great guy - everything was on track. 

It had been too good to be true, unfortunately. One year and a few months into the relationship, after Shane managed to pass his BOC exam and score a position as an athletic trainer resident, they decided to move in together. 

Things started to go downhill. Or maybe they had always been going that direction, and Shane hadn’t managed to notice until it was too late. 

Eric never hit him, necessarily. 

But he would get mad. Really, really mad. At first, it was small things. Shane knew he could be neurotic about his space, about cleanliness, about organization. 

Eric had always left his dishes sitting out in the morning. 

The first time Shane had bothered him about it, Eric had apologized and insisted next time he’d do his dishes before he left for work. 

But he hadn’t. Shane had let a few days pass by before reminding him about it again. He’d gotten back from a fifteen hour day of assisting with treating the most stubborn men and women alive, and he was exhausted. And, quite frankly, he didn’t want to do dishes that weren’t his. 

Eric had snapped at Shane that night. In hindsight, Shane doesn’t even remember what he had said, just the mean, biting tone that cut through the air. And Shane remembers freezing, because Eric had never talked to him like that before, like he was an annoying pest that Eric was trying to shoo away.

That had been the first time. Eric had cuddled Shane that night, showering him with kisses, apologizing over and over claiming he would never talk to Shane like that again. 

It had not been the last time. 

Eric started snapping at Shane more and more. It was random, and it had Shane walking on eggshells all the time. He was always hesitant to say something, worried that Eric would be in a bad mood. 

The snappy comments evolved into straight insults. Shane had known Eric was having a difficult time at work, with his new supervisor apparently giving Eric an insane workload, so he tried not to take the comments personally. 

But it was hard, when the man Shane thought loved him talked to him like that in a place that was meant to be their home. Shane had shared his deep insecurities with Eric, about his place in his friends and families lives, about his personality and his clothes and his habits, and Eric had taken those things shared in confidence and flung them back at Shane in the most hurtful way possible. 

Shane had stopped talking with his friends, after Eric had insisted Shane must be cheating on him, demanding to look through his phone. There had been a solid stretch of four months where every day Shane would get up early, quietly make breakfast for the both of them, prep lunch for both of them, do all of the dishes, go to work, come back, clean the whole house, make the bed, cook dinner, and pray and hope that Eric wouldn’t find something about Shane to insult and belittle. 

He had genuinely believed that if he did everything right, did everything Eric wanted, their relationship would go back to the way it had been. 

The final straw for Shane had been when Eric threw a plate at his head. Shane had stayed late at work, not even realizing the time until he was rushing back home. He had gotten back at around 11pm, and Eric had been sitting at their counter, bottle of whiskey in front of him.

Shane didn’t mind people drinking around him. He would indulge in one or two beers occasionally, but he was never really a huge drinker. He never really liked when Eric got drunk, though. And Eric had respected that boundary, for the most part. 

But as Shane had quietly stepped into the house, it was obvious that Eric was plastered. He had glared at Shane, full of vitriol. 

Insisted Shane was cheating on him. That Shane had gotten tired of him and that Shane hadn’t actually been late at work, but had instead been off with some new, hotter guy. Shane had argued back, voice trembling, that he really had been late at work, that it was really hurtful that Eric didn’t trust him to remain faithful. 

Eric had yelled, then. Not just a snappy remark, but a full, angry yell, that had Shane flinching into the cabinet behind him. He yelled about how Shane should be grateful someone like Eric was willing to date him, how Shane would never find someone who loved him the way Eric did, and then Eric had grabbed the glass plate in front of him and threw it at the cabinet next to Shane’s head. 

The plate had shattered. And that moment had been eye-opening, because that could have genuinely hurt Shane, and Eric hadn’t really cared all that much. 

So he quietly cleaned the plate up, left Eric who had passed out at the counter, and went up to their shared room. He called Rose in tears. 

She had been concerned but happy to hear from him. He hadn’t even realized that Eric had been pushing him away from all of his friends until that point. 

By the morning Shane was moved out and single. Rose let him crash her couch until he managed to find an apartment. Eric had blown up his phone with calls and apologies, insisting he would never do that to Shane again. 

Shane blocked his number, with the help of Rose. 

And that had been that. 

Now, years and years later, Shane was with Ilya. And upon being with Ilya, Shane was learning a whole lot of things about himself. 

His bar for ‘good boyfriend’ was basically in hell, after his past two partners. But Ilya was actively changing that. He was beyond a good boyfriend, it was genuinely insane. 

And Shane didn’t know if there was a such thing as having a kink for your boyfriend being a good boyfriend, but if there was, he definitely had it. 

~A little initiative can go a very long, long way

Baby, just do the dishes, I'll give you what you (What you), what you want~

The first time Shane realized that Ilya was leagues above anyone he’d ever dated before was when they’d hosted a holiday party. 

It was their first Christmas in their new house. They’d been together for two years at that point, and while Shane was a little nervous that it would turn out to be another Eric situation, his love for Ilya managed to override his nerves. 

Ilya had some days off for the holidays, and it was a rarity that the Centaurs, Rose, Hayden, Jackie, and Shane’s parents would all be in the same area for Christmas. 

So Shane had suggested they host a little holiday party. He was aware that Ilya’s past experiences with his family during the holidays were unpleasant at best, and while their private Christmas celebration last year had been lovely, Shane really wanted to celebrate with all of the people who had supported Shane and Ilya’s relationship through everything. 

Ilya had looked at Shane like he’d hung the moon and stars when Shane had suggested it. He knew as well as anyone that Shane could only handle the Centaurs loud nature for a short amount of time before he got overstimulated, but they were important to Ilya, so they were important to Shane. 

(Plus, he couldn’t help but want to feed Luca. He was like a little baby, young and lanky and earnest. It would be a disservice if Shane didn’t ensure the kid had a plate of warm, home-cooked food on Christmas.) 

According to Ilya, Shane handled the prep for the party like a military officer. Ilya said he found it very hot, the way Shane made an excel spreadsheet of special dietary restrictions he needed to be aware of, how many seats they would need, where to get winter themed decorations instead of Christmas ones since not everyone coming celebrated Christmas. 

Shane just loved to plan. It was in his DNA. Yuna and David attempted to get Shane to let them help him with cooking and setting up, but Shane insisted he wanted to be the one handling everything. 

It was a lot of labor, yes, but labor of love. 

When Ilya and Shane’s relationship had been outed to the whole world, Shane was convinced Ilya was going to break up with him. He had countless panic attacks over it, worried that Ilya would decide Shane wasn’t worth the controversy, that he’d go find a nice woman to settle with. 

Ilya had proven him wrong. The Centaurs had been a huge pillar of support for Ilya and Shane. They were rowdy, messy, the epitome of Hockey Guys, but they were also willing to stand behind Ilya in support of him as captain. They grew on Shane like annoying weeds, and now he was invited to WAG nights and well respected as the guy who could walk Ilya Rozanov like a dog on a leash. 

Shane had spent all day, starting from 8am that morning, in the kitchen. Ilya was in charge of decorating and music, which Shane trusted him to get done in the way he wanted. Anya had been dropped off at his parents and would be coming with them later, because as much as Shane adored that dog, she had a very unique way of laying down in the worst spot in the kitchen and refusing to move until Shane gave her a scrap of whatever he was cooking. 

Which was normally very cute, but sadly not when Shane was cooking for a whole hockey team plus some extra. 

Shane loved cooking. For the way his disordered eating had persisted his whole life, you would think he’d hate it, but no. Shane loved the science behind it, loved seeing people he cared about enjoy his hard work. 

The holiday party ended up being a huge success. 

The whole night had been filled with warm laughter, excited talking and sometimes yelling, full bellies and bad make-shift karaoke using Ilya’s shitty speaker - it was better than Shane could have ever imagined. 

Their home felt full of love and joy and Shane knew he was going to remember this forever. 

But eventually the night did have to end. And after saying goodbye to everyone, giving Anya plenty of hugs and kisses before sending her back to spend the night with Yuna and David, Shane was left feeling exhausted. 

He wished he didn’t get so overwhelmed. Shane had long since made terms with his autism diagnosis, but times like this made him wish he could be normal. He just had an amazing night, but he could feel the overstimulation. 

It had crawled under his skin and settled into something that was draining Shane’s energy like a parasite. He wanted to lay down in bed with the lights off under Ilya’s pinning weight, he wanted to change out of his uncomfortable jeans and into silky boxers that wouldn’t make his skin feel like it was being put through a cheese grater. He wanted to take a blisteringly hot shower and wrap himself in Ilya’s fancy fluffy towel. 

But alas, here he was, staring at the huge pile of dishes in the kitchen. Shane sighed heavily, rolling his shoulders back and bracing himself to deal with the textural nightmare this was bound to be. 

As he started on the first plate, he could hear footsteps approaching. 

“Shane, what are you doing?” Ilya asked. He sounded confused. 

Shane turned, giving him a long, slow blink. 

“The…dishes?” He said hesitantly, using his head to gesture to the plate in his hand. He felt a little anxious, all of a sudden. Would Ilya get upset that he hadn’t done them earlier? 

Ilya frowned. 

“You cooked all day. You were on your feet all night being good host. You look exhausted. Go to bed, lyubov. If you want, I set out the towel you like and your soft clothes.” 

Shane melted a little, taking off his dish gloves and kissing Ilya on the cheek. He felt his heart warm at the way Ilya just knew what Shane needed without Shane having to even say anything. 

“What about the dishes?” 

For as much as Shane wanted to take Ilya up on his suggestion, he knew from experience that leaving dishes out for the morning was a recipe for disaster. It ended up being a nightmare and a half, and Shane would rather power through the sensory overload than deal with scrubbing at a pan for two hours tomorrow morning. 

“What do you mean? You did cooking, so I will do dishes. And clean up decorations, too.” Ilya added as an afterthought as he glanced over their living room. 

The way Ilya said it, as though it was such an obvious and easy thing to do, had Shane falling even more in love. And, weirdly enough, had a little bit of heat coursing through his stomach. 

Ilya didn’t make it sound like a chore. He didn’t make Shane sound insane or annoying for caring about cleaning up. 

He pulled Shane in for a proper kiss. It was chaste and full of love and care and had Shane sinking bonelessly into Ilya. When they pulled away, Shane was met with a soft smile on Ilya’s face. 

“Go relax. I will handle this and lock up and then join you. You did so good, today. Was amazing. You deserve to rest.” 

And, well, Shane really couldn’t deny Ilya when he spoke in that tone with that smile. So he took a lovely hot shower and dried himself off with the towel Ilya had set out, slid on clothes that felt amazing on his skin, and fell asleep before his head could even hit his pillow. 

Shane woke up before Ilya, as usual. He gave Ilya a soft kiss on his forehead, unable to stop the fond look in his eyes as he took in Ilya’s messy hair, the way he was sprawled across the bed in a way that should be physically impossible. 

After brushing his teeth, Shane quietly walked downstairs. 

And what he was met with should not have made his dick twitch in his boxers, but Shane’s turn-ons had never been all that normal, anyways. 

In front of him was a pristine home. The living room had been cleaned up of all decorations, which had been neatly folded up and placed into a box next to the couch. The box had been labelled with big black lettering. 

And the carpet that had suffered many crumbs and dirt the night before had been obviously vacuumed. 

The kitchen counter had been wiped down, with the sink empty of all dishes, big pots included. Upon further inspection, Shane found that Ilya had also taken the trash out, new bags in place. 

Shane wanted to cry. He also wanted to ride Ilya into the mattress until his thighs fell off. He also wanted to propose and marry Ilya right then and there. 

He hadn’t even had to ask. That was what really got Shane. He’d been so used to taking on the unspoken labor of chores when he had been with Eric, gotten used to expecting a lecture about how work had been hard and the least Shane could do was keep the house clean. 

It wasn’t like that with Ilya. 

He had seen how tired Shane was. Ilya was the one who insisted on cleaning up. Not just doing the minimum of washing the dishes, but wiping off the counter, vacuuming the carpet, taking the trash out, taking down the decorations and putting them away. 

Was it normal to be this turned on by your partner showing his ability to do basic household chores? Shane chose not to think too hard about it. 

Instead, he went right back upstairs to their bedroom. 

He nudged at Ilya, unable to stop himself from leaving little open-mouthed kisses all along Ilya’s neck. 

“Ilya, wake up.” Shane whispered. He trailed a hand down to Ilya’s bare chest, letting it rest at his happy trail. He was pleased to see Ilya’s dick start to twitch. 

Ilya groaned. He blinked a few times before his eyes fully fluttered open. 

“Shane? What’s going on?” 

The raspiness of Ilya’s voice, the way Shane could feel Ilya’s chest rumble when he spoke, it drove Shane insane. His boyfriend was sexy and kind and considerate and Shane needed Ilya’s dick in him like, immediately, or he would die. 

“I want to ride you.” Shane said matter-of-factly. It brought him immense joy to see the way Ilya’s eyes widened and the way he immediately perked up. 

“Jesus, Hollander.” Ilya muttered, eyeing Shane’s hard dick that was already leaking through his boxers before pulling him into a bruising kiss. 

Normally Shane would insist Ilya brush his teeth first. But honestly, he was too turned on to care. The kiss was passionate and messy, teeth clashing and spit swapping between tongues. When Ilya pulled away, Shane was panting, lips shining with a mix of their saliva. 

“Not that I am complaining, but you are very enthusiastic this morning.” 

Shane swung his legs over so he was straddling Ilya’s waist, settling down so that Ilya’s dick was resting between the cleft of his ass. Ilya trailed a hand under Shane’s shirt, fingertips ghosting against Shane’s abs before trailing up to his nipples. 

Shane couldn’t help the shiver that ran through him at the feather-light touch. 

“You cleaned. You vacuumed. You took the trash out. You wiped everything down. And did the dishes.”  Shane mumbled into Ilya’s neck. 

Ilya pulled away from Shane, staring at him for a long moment. 

“That’s what this is about? You do not need to reward me for basic decency. Is our house, of course I will help clean. Would be unfair to make you do all of that after you did so much yesterday. Shared home means shared chores, yes?” 

God, Shane loved this man. He surged forwards, pulling Ilya in for another deep kiss. 

“I love you. Now shut up and fuck me.” 

Ilya grinned. 

A little morning sex never hurt anyone. 

~Remembering how to use your phone gets me oh so, oh so, oh so hot~

The second time Shane was confronted with his maybe basic-decency kink, or just how much better Ilya was than his past boyfriends, was valentine’s day. 

This would be their second valentine’s day together, but it would be the first one that they wouldn’t be able to spend together in person. 

It kind of sucked. Ilya was at an away game in Florida, and Shane tried his hardest to pretend he wasn’t suffering from an Ilya shaped hole in his heart. 

He didn’t even know why he cared so much, anyways. Matt had hated valentine’s day, insisting it was a stupid capitalistic holiday that shouldn’t be celebrated. And that had killed Shane, because he’d grown up on sappy rom-coms and dreams of his first relationship being movie picture-perfect, valentine’s day included. 

And then with Eric, he hadn’t even bothered. The one time Shane had suggested maybe doing something extra nice for valentine’s day, he’d gotten an exasperated look. I already show you I love you every day, is that not enough? 

It had made Shane feel like the smallest person alive, so he’d given up. 

But part of him couldn’t help but yearn. His first valentine’s day with Ilya had been beyond Shane’s expectations, with Ilya taking him out on a nice dinner date and giving him flowers while Shane gave Ilya a small box of chocolates that Svetlana had advised him on. 

This year would probably be different, since they weren’t even in the same country. Shane had gone to work that morning trying to push down any sort of hope that Ilya would do something special. 

He had texted him that morning, just a little “Happy valentines day <3” followed by a few more heart emojis. Shane wasn’t expecting a response until the afternoon, he knew Ilya was busy with morning practice before his game later that night. 

Shane ignored the heart banner hung up at work. He tried to inject as much enthusiasm as he possibly could into listening to what his patients' partners had planned for the day, resolutely ignoring the rotten envy that rose in his chest. 

By the time Shane got back from work, he was exhausted. Towards the end of his shift he’d had to break the news to one of his patients that she likely would never be able to play professionally again, regardless of how much rehabilitation she did. 

It was part of his job, but that didn’t make it any easier. Having to tell someone that they can no longer do what they’ve dedicated their whole life to. He, selfishly, hoped he’d never have to say something like that to Ilya or any of his teammates. 

Shane arrived home, walking up to their front door before doing a double take. Sitting on the little steps to their door was a big bouquet of flowers along with a note. Beneath that was a small package. 

On cue, his phone pinged with a text notification. 

Ilya: happy valentines day <3 did u get the flowers + gift ??

Ilya: i will call after the game

Ilya: love u 

Shane couldn’t help the wide smile that made its way onto his face as he brought everything inside, setting it gently down onto their kitchen counter. 

His heart fluttered as he read the note attached to the bouquet. He should have known Ilya would do something like this. He managed to blow Shane’s expectations out of the water time and time again. 

Moy Lyubov, I miss you a lot. I can’t wait to see you and sweet baby Anya. Wish I could be there today. Would have taken you out to a beautiful restaurant to show off my super hot sexy boyfriend, make everyone jealous. Hope you like the flowers. Reminded me of silly romance movies you cry to when you are drunk. I also got you a little gift, to remind you I love you when we are away from each other. Is not proposal (not yet) but I think you will love it. 

From: sexiest, hottest, best hockey player ever ))

It was sort of fucking insane, how much Shane was head over heels for this man. A blush rose up his cheeks as he thought about what Ilya had said regarding a proposal. Not yet, which meant maybe someday it would happen. 

Shane tried to push thoughts of marriage and a wedding out of his head, because he was a pessimist at heart, and while he had been trying to work through his self-esteem issues, part of him was still convinced one day Ilya would wake up and decide he wanted someone better than 

Shane. 

His hands trembled as he carefully opened up the package, breath catching in his throat. There was a little black jewelry box. Shane gently opened it. 

Inside was a beautiful black ring. It was small, with silver lining, and at the center of it was a little sun with a red gem as the circle. It was threaded through a thin silver chain, meant to be worn as a necklace. 

Shane felt tears trail down his face before he even realized he was crying. He let out a stilted laugh, bringing a hand up to wipe away at his face. 

Ilya had not only remembered the stone of Shane’s birth month, he’d also remembered the way Shane disliked the feeling of rings around his fingers, and that he preferred silver jewelry to gold. 

Shakily, as though Shane was handling a bomb, he carefully managed to secure the clasp of the necklace around his neck. The weight of the ring against his chest settled like it had been there the whole time. 

He had just enough brain power to message Ilya back after toeing off his shoes and transferring the flowers to a beautiful vase his mom had gifted them ages ago. 

Shane: I got them. 

Shane: Thank you so much. 

Shane: I love you. I miss you so much. Can’t wait to call!

After Shane had showered and changed out of his frankly disgusting work clothes, he settled against the numerous pillows he had resting against the headboard of the bed. 

He reached up to clasp at the ring sitting at his chest, something he’d caught himself doing every few minutes in the shower and as he changed. 

The metal felt smooth against his skin. Shane tried not to think about how much something like this must have cost. He knew that between Ilya’s salary and Shane’s income, they weren’t strapped for cash, but still. 

None of his partners had ever done something like this for Shane before. Remembered his preferences, went out of their way to spend money on him, took initiative without Shane having to even ask. 

He couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. He’d managed to get the ingredients for vatrushka buns, which he was planning on making the day before Ilya came back, along with a set of red lingerie that Rose had helped him pick out. 

It felt small, in comparison to what Ilya had given Shane for valentine’s day. He hoped Ilya would understand how much Shane loved him, even with the difference in gift levels. Before he had the chance to overthink some more, his phone started ringing. 

Shane perked up, answering the facetime call without a second thought. 

The moment he saw Ilya through the phone screen, his whole body relaxed into the bed, tension he didn’t even know he had leaving his shoulders. 

Ilya had obviously just gotten back to his hotel. He’d won the game (Shane had checked) and somehow still looked insanely hot even though he was likely exhausted. His hair was a little greasy and his undershirt was sticking to his skin. 

Shane had the delirious thought that if he was there, he’d clean all of the sweat off of Ilya’s body. He could taste the salt of Ilya’s sweat on his tongue, smell the unique musk that was just so Ilya, and fuck his entire life he was getting hard. 

(Was it normal to get hot and bothered by the thought of your boyfriend's sweat? Or was this a kink thing, not an ‘everyone feels this way’ thing? Shane decided to put a pin in that thought and revisit it later.) 

“The necklace looks very good on you, Shane.” 

He was pulled out of his thoughts by Ilya’s comment. Shane flushed, smiling at Ilya as his hand fidgeted with the ring. 

“I love it, Ilya. Thank you. Seriously, even just the flowers and note were more than enough.” 

Ilya rolled his eyes at Shane. 

“Flowers on valentine’s day is bare minimum. You deserve, ah, princess treatment, is what they call it online.” 

If Ilya was there in person, Shane would’ve swatted at him for calling Shane a princess. Alas, he just had to settle for giving Ilya a half-hearted glare. 

“Shut the fuck up. I’m not a princess. And it’s more than the bare minimum, to me at least. No one has ever done something like this for me before.” Shane glanced away at the last sentence, feeling a little shy all of a sudden. 

Ilya made a noise of discontent. 

“You are a princess. Deserving of royal treatment. Your face is so pretty, if I was a knight I would go to war for it.” 

Shane blinked. He tried to ignore the way butterflies fluttered around his stomach at the compliment. 

“You are so fucking weird sometimes.” 

Ilya just smirked at Shane, waggling his eyebrows. After a few moments of silence, his face turned a bit more serious. 

“Your past boyfriends never did something like this for you?” Ilya sounded genuinely baffled at the concept. 

Shane let out a bittersweet laugh. 

“No. No they did not. I’ve never gotten flowers for valentine’s day before until the first one we spent together. And I doubt either of them would’ve spent money on getting jewelry for me, much less even remembering that I prefer silver to gold.” 

It sounded sort of pathetic when Shane said it out loud. He hadn’t realized, until Ilya, just how much he’d forced himself to settle with in his previous relationships. He had gotten so used to being disappointed that he’d stopped expecting nice romantic gestures entirely, convinced that he was being too greedy, wanting too much out of his relationships. 

He wished he could tell his past self that Eric and Matt were wrong. That he would find someone who loved how boring he was. That he didn’t have to settle for less than the bare minimum. That he would find someone who poured as much love into him as he did into them. 

Ilya scowled at the screen. Shane had a feeling it wasn’t directed towards him. 

“I wish I could meet your exes and punch them in the face. They did not deserve you. Evil, evil men. How do you forget to buy boyfriend flowers on valentine's day?” 

Shane didn’t have the heart to tell Ilya that his past partners didn’t forget, they just didn’t care. Matt, maybe, but with Eric it had very much been a purposeful disregard of Shane’s wants. 

“Still, I really appreciate it. You come back in three days, right?” Shane changed the topic of conversation. He didn’t want to think about Eric or Matt anymore, not when he had Ilya Rozanov on facetime in front of him looking like sex appeal incarnate. 

Ilya nodded, pouting a little. It was very endearing. 

“Yes, feels like forever. I wish I could come home tonight.” Ilya glanced at something off camera, letting out a sigh. “I should go shower. Early team breakfast tomorrow.” 

Shane raised an eyebrow at Ilya. He decided to put into motion the half-concocted plan he’d been thinking of all night. 

His real valentine’s day gift for Ilya would be for when Ilya got back, but he could give him a little gift as a reward for playing so well. 

He reached over to the nightstand on his side of the bed, sliding his reading glasses on. Ilya looked like he was about to start drooling. 

“So you don’t want to have phone sex with me while I wear my glasses? I mean, if you have to get up early tomorrow, you really should go to bed…” Shane trailed off teasingly. 

Ilya shook his head. He cursed under his breath, gaze darkening. He’d always gotten weird about Shane’s glasses. Shane didn’t fully get it. He did, however, enjoy the way they made Ilya act a little feral. 

“No, shut up. Such a tease. Now, Hollander, take your clothes off. Want to see if I can make you blush the same color as the ring.” 

Team breakfast ended up being pushed back a full hour. Shane’s coworkers fawned over the ring hanging from his necklace, oohing and aahing over how beautiful it was and how Shane was a very lucky man. 

He had grinned wide at that, unable to stop the possessive pride that welled up in his chest. 

Ilya was his, and Shane would never let anyone forget it. 

~ I get wet at the thought of you 

Being a responsible guy 

Treating me like you're supposed to do 

Tears run down my thighs~

The realization comes to Shane while he’s having lunch with Rose. They’ve kept up their tradition of meeting up at least once a month when their schedules allow it, just to catch up. 

It was a rare day off for Shane, and Rose happened to be in town for a new film. 

(Shane still couldn’t get over the fact that his very first friend basically ever was an A-list movie star celebrity. It was insane.) 

Ilya had therapy in the morning, and they’d had a longstanding rule that it was healthier for them to give each other as much privacy as possible during appointments like that, so Shane felt pretty okay meeting up with Rose. 

They were at the same cafe they always went to, and Shane was lamenting his struggles to Rose. 

“I seriously don’t know what’s going on. I feel like I’m going insane. The other day I came back from work to him folding our laundry and I genuinely felt like I was going to rip his pants off.” 

Rose raised an eyebrow, taking a long sip of her drink. Shane and Rose had been friends for so long that TMI just didn’t really exist for them anymore. Back when Shane was a shy first-year, he’d been easily mortified by any mention of anything explicit. 

But then Shane had held Rose’s hair back while she threw up and helped her get to her dorm after she drank tequila on an empty stomach, and Rose had sat with Shane through his first hangover where he genuinely thought he would die. 

Rose had seen Shane at his worst, most embarrassing moments, and vice versa. They were beyond shying away from dirty details at this point. 

“So, let me make sure I’m getting this right. You get super turned on when you see Ilya doing like, romantic things, and also basic household chores?” 

Shane groaned, slumping into his chair and resting his palm against the side of his head, elbow pressing into the metal of the table. 

“When you say it like that it sounds stupid. I don’t know, it’s just…for the longest time I thought I was expecting too much out of a partner. Like maybe I was setting my standards too high, or my expectations were unreasonable. But Ilya just does those things without me even having to ask.” 

Rose smiled softly at Shane. 

“Oh, honey. I’d argue that your standards are the bare minimum, if that. I think, and correct me if I’m wrong, that you’re not used to having a responsible, considerate partner. I mean, from what you’ve told me about how it was with Eric, he sounds like the literal devil, so.” 

Shane laughed a little. 

“Yeah, I guess. Eric always made me feel like I was too high maintenance. He would always tell me that I should feel lucky he was willing to date me, that no one else would be willing to put up with my ‘prissy attitude’.” Shane made finger quotes for the last part. Even though it had been years since those words had been spoken to him, they had always somehow managed to stick in the back of Shane’s mind. 

Rose narrowed her eyes at Shane. 

“He was wrong. And a manipulative asshole. You’re allowed to want things in a relationship, Shane. That’s not high maintenance. If you love someone, you want them to show you love back. It’s human nature.” 

Shane stared at Rose for a long few moments. He didn’t know why that stuck with him so hard. Rose made it sound simple in the same way Ilya always did. 

“So, what, you think I’m just turned on by human decency?” Shane asked incredulously. That could not be the answer, could it? 

Rose snorted, taking another long sip of her drink. 

“Well, yes, but I also think you might have a competence kink.” 

Shane’s brain short-circuited. 

“A what? That’s a thing?” 

Now, let it be said, this was not the first time Rose was enlightening Shane on something sex-related. Shane had the habit of thinking certain things he enjoyed in bed were totally vanilla and very common. 

It turned out Shane was, in fact, a fucking freak in the bedroom. He had been convinced that everyone was into the things he was into. It wasn’t until Rose pulled him aside for a long and awkward conversation that Shane had learned most of his kinks were most certainly not vanilla. 

(“No, Shane, most people don’t want to feel like prey getting chased by a predator. Nor do they want said predator to use them like a sex toy while they say no and fight the whole time. That’s called CNC. Now please consult the internet on safe BDSM practices because I love you a lot but I never want to know that much about your sexual fantasies ever again.” 

Shane had left the conversation with a face so bright red Hayden had asked him if he was running a fever. 

God bless Rose Landry.) 

Rose laughed at Shane. Shane scowled in her direction. 

“Glad my suffering is funny to you.” He mumbled. 

She grinned. 

“It is. It’s very funny to me. But yes, that is a thing. It’s literally exactly what it sounds like. Ilya showing off how competent he is at being a romantic partner turns you on. Which is very cute, by the way.” 

Huh. Shane leaned back in his chair. 

He felt enlightened. That…made a shocking amount of sense. Nearly everything about Ilya naturally turned Shane on, but he supposed some primal part of his brain activated when he saw Ilya being responsible and caring for Shane without expecting anything in return. 

The conversation topic switched to Rose’s dating life, and then progressed to both of them complaining about work and their busy schedules. 

Before Shane knew it, they had paid the check and were hugging each other goodbye. 

“I really am happy for you, Shane. You deserve nice things. I’m glad you and Ilya found each other.” Rose murmured. 

Shane blushed, shooting a bashful smile at Rose. 

“Thanks. That means a lot.” 

With that, they went their separate ways. 

Shane drove back home with his heart warm and his stomach full. He was so happy, maybe the happiest he’d been in his whole life. He felt so lucky. 

Opening up the door to their home, Shane was immediately greeted with the pitter-patter of Anya’s paws on the hardwood floor. 

Shane took his shoes off before bending over to scratch at her ears, cooing at her the whole time. After she’d decided she’d had enough pets, Shane wandered over to the kitchen. 

“Ilya, I’m home!” Shane exclaimed. 

He entered the kitchen, and what he saw made him stop dead in his tracks. 

“Ah, how was lunch with Rose?” Ilya asked. 

Shane barely even processed the question. In front of him stood Ilya, clad in only a pair of gray sweatpants. They were the ones that always drove Shane fucking insane because he could see the imprint of Ilya’s dick through them when the other man moved. 

Not just that, though. In front of Ilya, sitting on the kitchen counter, was a steaming mug of tea. Shane always insisted on drinking warm peppermint tea after meals, swearing up and down that there were serious digestive benefits to it. 

He could smell the peppermint. And it was in his favorite mug. 

Ilya had known Shane would be on his way back. He’d gone out of his way to make the tea Shane liked. He had pulled out Shane’s favorite mug which sat in a very inconvenient spot in the kitchen cabinet. 

Right, okay, Shane could be normal about this. 

“...Shane?” Ilya said his name questioningly after Shane failed to respond. 

Nevermind. Shane could not be normal about this. 

He grabbed Ilya’s wrist, pulling him along up the stairs. Ilya made a confused noise but still followed along. 

“Bedroom.” Shane managed to pant out. He pulled Ilya into their shared bedroom and locked the door, frantically shedding his own shirt and pants. 

Before Ilya had a chance to say anything, Shane started frantically littering Ilya’s neck with kisses, trailing them down before sucking hard right above Ilya’s collarbone. He moved to make another mark, but Ilya pulled him away. 

Shane couldn’t help but let out a desperate whine. Ilya chuckled, looking endeared and a little concerned at the same time. 

“Not that I am complaining, but what has you so…wild?” 

Shane let out a little groan, slumping into Ilya. 

“You. You drive me fucking insane, Ilya. When you do domestic stuff without me even asking. You’re so responsible. It’s so fucking hot. Rose thinks I have a competence kink.” 

Shane watched in real time as realization dawned on Ilya’s face. He furrowed his brow a little. 

“Hm, well, of course I do domestic things. Is part of being a boyfriend, no?” Ilya said. Shane took note of the teasing undertone in Ilya’s voice. He allowed Ilya to move him so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed, with Ilya standing in front of him between his legs. 

Shane scowled, scrunching up his nose in mild irritation. 

“You know what I mean.” 

Ilya smirked, bringing a hand up to Shane’s chin and firmly gripping it so that Shane was maintaining eye contact with Ilya. A dark thrill ran through Shane at how easily Ilya took command, how quickly he could make Shane submit for him. 

“No, I don’t. Explain to me. Be a good boy and use your words, yes?” Ilya’s voice was like liquid butter, entering Shane’s ears and thrumming through his bloodstream like crack. 

There was most definitely a wet spot in Shane’s boxers, and normally he’d be embarrassed at how quickly he was getting hard if he wasn’t so fucking turned on. 

“You pay attention. You remember the things I like. You share responsibilities without me having to ask. You make me feel loved, cared for. I know I’m strong and independent, but when I’m with you I feel safe enough to let you handle things, sometimes. You’re so good to me.” Shane blurted out. 

Ilya’s gaze softened to something undeniably fond. He leaned forward and captured Shane in a chaste kiss, moving his hand to cup at Shane’s cheek. 

“I think I have my own version of this, too. You do not realize how crazy you make me. When you cook my favorite foods after a rough game, when you ramble about new medical study, you treat me like I am worth something, everything. It is the least I can do, to be good to you.” 

Ilya gently thumbed over Shane’s neck. 

“Will you let me show you? Just how crazy you make me?” 

Shane nodded frantically, staring at Ilya with wide eyes. Ilya pulled Shane in for another kiss, and there was nothing chaste about this one. 

Ilya nibbled at Shane’s bottom lip, biting gently at it before diving into Shane’s mouth. Shane allowed himself to go boneless, getting lost in the sensation of Ilya’s tongue against his. When they pulled away from each other, a string of spit followed, landing on Shane’s chin. 

He pushed Shane down against the bed, caging Shane’s head in between his arms. He started kissing his way down Shane’s chest, flicking his tongue over one of his nipples before wrapping his mouth around the nub and sucking. 

Shane’s back arched, pushing him further into Ilya’s mouth. He couldn’t help the high pitched whine that escaped him, hands scrambling to Ilya’s head of curls, unable to decide if he wanted to push Ilya down or push him away. 

Ilya pulled away after a few more agonizing seconds, bringing a finger up to tease Shane’s neglected nipple. He let out a dark chuckle at the desperate moan Shane let out. 

“So fucking sensitive. It’s so hot, how good you are for me. So easy to rile you up.” A little note of wonder had entered Ilya’s voice. He sounded genuinely awed at how easily turned on Shane was. 

It made a small feeling of pride burst through Shane. 

“Yes, yes, m’good. S’all for you, Ilya. Yours.” Shane was solidly in subspace now, and he felt amazing. He was floating on cloud nine. He had Ilya Rozanov in front of him, touching him, looking at him like he was something precious. 

Something animal and possessive entered Ilya’s eyes for a quick moment, and Shane could feel the way his dick leaked even more precum at that. 

“Fuck me, please?” Shane was not above begging. He looked at Ilya with big, teary eyes. Ilya let out a groan as he grabbed the lube from the nightstand, pulling off Shane's boxers and lubing up his fingers. 

“You’re going to kill me, Hollander.” Ilya trailed a finger down the length of Shane’s sensitive cock, collecting the precum that had pooled at his head and bringing it down to circle Shane’s hole. 

The lube along with the precum made the slide of Ilya’s first finger easy, making an obscene squelch sound as he fucked it in and out of Shane’s hole. Shane let out a moan, trying his best to fuck himself back onto Ilya’s finger. 

Ilya easily slid in a second finger next to the first, moving a hand to hold down Shane’s hips in a bruising grip. He started moving his fingers faster, purposefully avoiding Shane’s prostate. 

He grinned at the way the little tears at the corners of Shane’s eyes slipped down his face. It was insane, the way Shane looked. His hair was mussed against the pillow, his cheeks flushed with the most delicious pink coloring his freckles, saliva-glossed lips open as he let out the sweetest little pants and moans. 

“Do you want something, Shane? Hm? My fingers not enough for you?” Ilya cooed meanly. Shane’s cock twitched against his stomach at the tone. Ilya someone always nailed the perfect mix of praise and degradation and it made Shane feel unreasonably hot and bothered every time. 

Shane let out a pathetic sniffle. 

“Please, want your dick. Please, Ilya, I need it. M’yours, right? Use me, then.” Shane was near delirious with arousal, heat in his stomach overwhelming every other thought he had. 

Ilya cursed, sounding just as unraveled as Shane felt. 

He frantically flipped Shane around so that he was on his knees, upper body pressed into the bed as his back naturally arched to accommodate the position. Shane let out a satisfied moan as Ilya finally pressed his dick into Shane, moving inch by inch until Ilya’s hips were pressed against Shane’s ass. 

“Fuck, Shane.” Ilya panted out. He started frantically fucking into Shane, one hand next to Shane’s head while the other pressed Shane’s shoulders down into the mattress. 

Shane felt pinned down. He felt trapped. It felt like heaven. The way Ilya’s dick filled him up, each thrust pressing against his prostate in a way no dildo ever could. He couldn’t help but let out little punched out moans every time Ilya thrust back into Shane. 

He was definitely forming a puddle of drool on the bed. He could feel dried tears against his face, sweat dripping down his back. The hot weight of Ilya’s hand against his shoulders, Ilya’s grunts and moans as he animalistically fucked into Shane. 

Like he was trying to shape Shane’s insides to fit his dick. Like he was trying to breed Shane, mark him on the inside so there would be no question about who Shane belonged to. 

Shane was convinced he was having a religious experience. Because holy shit. 

“Il-Ilya, m’close.” Shane slurred out. He felt like his body and brain were being turned to mush. 

Ilya pulled Shane up so that Shane’s back was against Ilya’s chest. Shane barely had enough brainpower to brace his arms against the headboard. 

The new angle had Shane seeing stars. One of Ilya’s hands travelled up Shane’s hips to grope shamelessly at his chest. He could feel Ilya’s breath against his ear, hot and wet. 

“You’re so fucking good, Shane. Such a good slut. So perfect for me. Always. You can cum, Shane, let yourself feel good.” 

The sound of Ilya’s gravelly voice right next to Shane’s ear combined with the praise and the feeling of Ilya’s dick pressing right into his prostate, and Shane was gone. His vision blanked out for a long moment as he had maybe the best orgasm of his entire life. 

He registered Ilya continuing to desperately thrust into Shane, quick, powerful thrusts that made it obvious he was nearing his own climax. 

A fucked out smile made its way onto Shane’s face at the slight twinge of overstimulation ran through his body. He loved this feeling, sometimes even more than cumming on Ilya’s dick. He enjoyed feeling like he was of use to Ilya, loved when Ilya got needy and took what he needed from Shane’s body. 

A few more thrusts and then Ilya was hunched over, sinking his teeth into Shane’s shoulder as he came, marking Shane both on the inside and outside. 

They were both sweaty and out of breath and a little disgusting, but Shane felt sated and content in a way he’d maybe never felt before. 

He vaguely processed Ilya wiping both of them down with a cold towel, nudging Shane off of the bed so he could change the sheets. Shane whined at having to move. Ilya just sighed indulgently at him. 

“I know, I know. But sheets are dirty, and you will be upset at having to sleep on dirty sheets. Will be quick, I promise” 

Shane’s dick gave a valiant twitch at the fact that Ilya knew that about him. He stood up on weak legs, watching with hazy, love-filled eyes as Ilya made quick work of throwing the dirty sheets into the laundry hamper and switching them out. 

He helped Shane back onto the bed, laughing a little at the way Shane sunk into the mattress in contentment. 

Ilya joined Shane, cuddling up against him. He brought a bottle of water up to Shane’s lips, offering small sips. Once he was happy with the amount of water Shane had drank, he set the bottle aside, wrapping his arms around Shane and pulling him against his chest. 

“Love you.” Shane mumbled into Ilya’s skin. 

Ilya gently kissed Shane’s forehead. 

“Love you too. Even though I want to kill everyone who dated you before me. It is very sweet, that you think me doing boyfriend duties is hot, but it is also basic decency.” 

Shane gave a tired laugh.

“Yeah, well. They don’t matter anymore, right? Because you’re mine. And I’m yours, so.” 

A thrill rushed through Ilya at the words. He gripped Shane tighter in his arms. 

“Yes. You will never have to settle for bare minimum again. Only princess treatment for you, my Shane.” 

Shane let out a little groan, but decided not to protest. 

Princess treatment didn’t sound too bad, actually.