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Shane had forcibly stopped Ilya from popping the champagne in the elevator. They’d swindled it out of the concierge; Ilya had said to her, with a low voice and a meaningful glance around the room, that they were “celebrating, you know?”
He hadn’t been particularly subtle, and with a quick look down at his left hand, she’d grinned and excused herself to wherever Vegas hotels kept - Ilya took a swig - already chilled champagne.
They were just inside the door of their hotel room; Ilya had shoved his shoes off and opened the champagne at the same time, in a feat of skill and coordination worthy of an MHL Cup MVP. He took another drink and then tipped it into Shane’s willing mouth.
“Mmm,” Shane said, and went back to hanging his pants over the edge of a chair. He unbuttoned his shirt, and then Ilya’s brain short-circuited at the sight of his husband - his husband! - in an unbuttoned dress shirt and black boxer briefs.
He reached around blindly and set the champagne down on what was probably a table, he didn’t fucking care, and reached for Shane.
“I wa--whoa!” Shane said as Ilya grabbed him and hoisted him in the air. He wrapped his legs around Ilya’s waist and held onto his shoulders as Ilya started walking them back towards the bed. “What are you doing?”
“Returning the favor,” Ilya said.
“Oh,” Shane said, and then, “Oh,” as Ilya tossed him on the bed and stood back, sending his designer shirt flying without a second thought.
“Yes, oh,” Ilya said. He stripped quickly - pants, underwear, socks - and went down on one knee on the bed, leaning forward and putting one hand on Shane’s chest to push him flat down onto the mattress. He kissed him, biting at his bottom lip, but pulled away when Shane grabbed at him and tried to drag him on top of him. “I told you--”
Shane changed tactics and started shoving his underwear down his thighs. “Fine, hurry, then.”
“What if I don’t feel like hurrying?” Ilya grabbed Shane’s hips, holding him still while he dropped his head to Shane’s chest, sucking a bruise into Shane’s pec. Shane was panting audibly, hips trying to buck up into the air and hands grabbing for Ilya’s head, shoulders, back, before sliding off. Ilya kissed and bit along Shane’s sternum and stomach, stopping at the top of his thighs to finally grab Shane’s underwear and pull it the rest of the way off.
He was done fucking around. He tossed the underwear aside, leaving Shane in just his socks, and sucked him down, getting as much of Shane’s cock as possible in one move.
Above him, Shane cried out. His legs tightened around Ilya's shoulders. “Ilya, Jesus, fuck, that’s…” It was like a dam had broken. “I love you, fuck, I love you so much…keep, oh god, keep doing that…”
Ilya only beat back his own overwhelming arousal because it was more important to drive Shane to the edge. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Shane’s hands fisted into the sheets, twisting and pulling them.
Ilya held Shane’s hips down and kept going, humming around his cock in a way that always drove Shane crazy. It only took a few more minutes before Shane shouted and came down Ilya's throat.
Ilya swallowed around Shane’s cock one more time for good measure and then slid his mouth away, crawling up Shane’s body and kissing him hard. Shane responded sloppily, lying there dazed, while Ilya reached for his own cock. It took very little time for him to come all over Shane’s stomach.
He rolled over and starfished on the bed, flopping one arm over Shane. Shane laughed and took Ilya’s hand, pressing a kiss to - oh, his wedding ring. “Good job, husband,” Shane said.
“Thank you, husband.” Ilya forced himself to get up and grab a washcloth. Once he had wiped them down with as much care as he could manage, he tucked himself under the covers, Shane half on top of him, and fell asleep between one kiss and the next.
***
Scott Hunter texted Ilya and Shane the morning after the MLH Awards.
🦕
Let me know if you're feeling up to company.
Me
No threesomes, please. Respect our marital bed.
“Marital bed? What, are you reading romance novels?”
“My phone died in the airport! I was bored! There was a bookstore! It was a very fun book. I learned all sorts of new English words from it.”
“I bet you did.”
Jane
Ignore him. Come on up. 613.
There was a knock on the door not long after, but when Shane opened it, Kip Grady stuck his head in first. “Scott wants to know if it’s safe,” he said with a grin.
“We haven’t been naked in at least twenty minutes,” Shane said. Kip laughed, which made Shane smile.
“Lie. It has been at least thirty,” Ilya said as Scott followed Kip in. “We had to eat.”
Scott looked dubiously at the slice of bed visible through the suite doorway, but settled comfortably on the overstuffed couch, tucking Kip in next to him.
“That was a bit of a surprise last night.”
“I was surprised too,” Ilya said.
“Oh, fuck you,” Shane said, and Ilya caught the quick smile from Scott. Shane sat down on the armchair facing Scott and Kip.
Ilya sat down on the arm of the chair, one leg draped comfortably over Shane’s lap. Shane shoved at Ilya’s leg, but with no real force behind it, so Ilya didn’t move. “The speech was not a surprise. Just the kiss.”
Shane let out a long sigh. “I don’t know what happened. I just got up there and--” He shrugged.
“It was a good speech,” Scott said.
Ilya nodded. They’d worked on it for hours with Shane’s mother. It had been perfect. And if Shane had delivered it with one hand clutching Ilya’s? Even more perfect. That was none of Scott’s business, though, so Ilya just said, “Thank you.”
“Thank you,” Scott said unexpectedly. “Thank you both.”
Ilya blinked at him. He looked down at Shane, who looked just as confused. “You’re welcome?” Shane tried.
Scott sighed. Kip put his hand up, covering Scott’s where it sat on his shoulder.
“It’s been…a lot, since I came out,” Scott said, voice a little rough. “I don’t regret it at all, I wouldn’t take it back if I could. But…”
“Standing alone in the spotlight is hard,” Kip said.
Scott turned and pressed a kiss to Kip’ temple. “Never alone,” he said softly. “But yeah, it is. I’m glad to have friends to share the spotlight with me.”
Ilya almost made a joke about what kind of “friends” they were, but Shane squeezed his knee, so instead Ilya said, “You are not afraid we will be better at coming out than you?”
“Ilya--”
“First of all,” Scott said, “there’s no medal for coming out, you asshole, you can’t be better at it than someone else. And second of all, one of us came out on national television after winning a Cup, so if you could be better--”
Kip burst out laughing.
“Christ, listen to me,” Scott said, rubbing his free hand over his face. “Ten minutes with you and you turn me into an asshole, too.”
“He has that effect on people,” Shane agreed.
“Thank you,” Ilya said. Everyone in the room who wasn’t him rolled their eyes. “And we are better at getting married than you, unless you also got secretly married and just told no one?”
“Fuck you,” Scott said.
“That means no,” Ilya told Shane. Shane stared up at him, unimpressed. “What? I am just saying!”
***
A week later, at the cottage, Ilya was in the hammock he’d purchased as a surprise for Shane, one leg out and one leg in. He was reading so intently that when the phone in his pocket rang, he jumped and swore.
He stuck one finger in the book to mark his place, then dug his phone out from the pocket of his cargo shorts. Without looking at the name on his screen, he answered it, said, “Honeymoon, call back later,” and hung up.
A few minutes later, Shane came out onto the porch. “Ilya?”
“Hm?” Ilya didn’t look up.
“Did you hang up on our agent?”
Ilya shrugged. “Maybe?”
Shane groaned. Ilya hid his smile behind the book.
He heard footsteps crossing the lawn, and then a Shane-shaped shadow blocked the sun. “Ilya.”
“Hm?”
”Ilya.”
“She was about to find out he is really a duke!” Ilya peeked over the top of the book. “I don’t know what you expected me to do.”
“Let it go to voice--what am I even saying?”
“Something boring,” Ilya informed him.
“I’ll show you boring.” Shane flopped on top of Ilya in the hammock. Ilya swore, the book went flying, and one small tussle later the hammock dumped both of them on the ground, breathing hard.
They both started laughing at the same time. “You okay?” Ilya asked, patting Shane down.
“I’m fine, even though you’re fucking heavy. Ilya! Ilya, I didn’t fall on my dick.”
“Just checking,” Ilya said.
“You’re weird, but I love you.”
Ilya looked up. Shane met his eyes, and they smiled like fools at each other for a moment.
“I love you too. Now let me finish checking.” Ilya went back to unbuttoning Shane’s shorts.
Shane dropped his head back to the ground with an audible thump. “You’re going to check with your mouth, aren’t you.”
Ilya just grinned.