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Ilya was obsessed with Shane.
That much was obvious and had been for a long time, especially now since everyone knew about them.
One thing in particular Ilya was obsessed with was Shane’s body and not just on the simple basis of him being objectively hot. It was also the actual physicality of Shane’s body. The way his muscles flexed with every movement; the way his abs stayed locked and tight even as he hunched over; the perk of his ass from being bent over at puck drop, or to pet Anya or grab one of Ilya’s socks off the floor just to throw it at his face in a rage.
Shane’s body was perfect, pristine, and most of all optimal. He was built for hockey. Built to charge and dodge a sea of other brawny men sometimes even bigger than himself. And somehow he was also built to have his ankles thrown over Ilya’s shoulders–to take his massive cock, always begging for more and for harder.
Ilya knew Shane was obsessed with Ilya’s size, but let it be known that Ilya was also obsessed with Shane’s. Yes Shane was smaller than him but Ilya was abnormally large compared to the average guy. And Shane was the biggest guy Ilya had been with by far, which he found exhilarating. Now Ilya appreciated the female body as much as the next guy, but having Shane’s body was nothing like being with a woman–or even the few other men Ilya had been with of whom were all lean and slim not unlike Sasha. With Shane, Ilya wasn’t afraid to bash him into the boards at games or into the headboard at home. Shane could take it. Would want to take it. Would relish in taking it.
His body was built to take Ilya’s love like a battering ram, like a fishing boat at sea during a hurricane, like the lamb that refused to move out of the wolf’s way. For all their love was pure and true, it was also vicious in its chase and unyielding in its catch.
And now that neither of them had to hide their feelings toward one another, everyone could tell from one look that these two were obsessed with each other, but they still did not truly understand the depths of their enmeshment. And if they could possibly fathom the lengths to which these two men would go to be close to one another, they would no doubt think it was Ilya the more desperate, the more clingy. In a way they weren’t wrong but Shane had everyone fooled if they thought he was the more subdued one. In fact their crazy for each other was probably quite equal.
After all, it’s Shane who insisted that they spit in each other’s water bottles so they could stay close to one another throughout the day for when they had practice or had to be apart, and could not be constantly touching each other at every given moment like they truly desired. It made Ilya feel honoured. Shane, whose world was made up of perfect macros to suit his perfect optimised body, needed Ilya on a molecular level just to function, needed his husband to be inside him at all times in one way or another.
When they had to spend multiple days apart, which was rare but still sometimes happened, and the spit filled water bottle ran out, Ilya knew Shane liked to pack a pair of Ilya’s dirty underwear to wear at night in bed that he would then jerk off into when they FaceTimed. And when Shane finally came home, and his whole bag was practically thrown into the wash immediately, he would pick out the dirty underwear, made dirtier with his spend, and hand it back to Ilya like a trophy. And Ilya would grin and say that is a lot of cum Shane Hollander, gold star, and then bend him over the closest available surface until he returned the favour by giving Shane Ilya’s own cum in exchange.
For all that Shane was a neat freak–who showered morning and night given the chance, who changed the sheets almost daily, who washed his hands the minute he got home because who knows who touched what that we then touched–Shane needed Ilya’s filth. Because the spit and the dirty underwear and the way he swallowed Ilya’s cum down with greed, by ass or by throat, wasn’t really dirty to Shane. Every ounce of Ilya that he consumed, that he brought with him when they were apart, was a tether linking them together across distance and time constantly pulling them back into each others orbit where they belonged.
Their love wasn’t just contractual, it was absolute. They were past the point of obligation or mere loyalty and to the point of cosmic binding. There was no Ilya that existed without Shane just as there was no Shane that existed without Ilya.
But yes they still had boundaries. Like Ilya was quite certain he never wanted to bottom, as much as he was happy with Shane’s tongue or fingers doing some probing. And Shane’s boundaries were…well. Honestly Ilya didn’t actually know if Shane had many boundaries when it came to him.
Oh other people if they even so much as touched Shane without permission would suddenly have a very bitchy Hollander giving them a death stare that Ilya found adorable. Shane would scoot closer to Ilya in an effort to say only Ilya gets to touch and Ilya would suddenly have his hand splayed across Shane’s butt, neither of them no longer concerned with PDA (not that Ilya ever was).
But when it came to Ilya, Shane was pretty much willing to cross almost all boundaries. Ilya remembers a time when someone was quite openly biphobic to Ilya at a game and when they got home Shane described in quite disturbing detail all the ways he would gut the other player for speaking like that about his husband. And this was after Shane, who was really not known for being an aggressive player, having already bashed the other player into the boards so hard he gave him a concussion. Really there was no length to which Shane would not go to protect, defend, or claim his husband. It didn’t help that it all just turned Ilya on until he had Shane face down ass up, claiming Shane back in his own way.
And speaking of boundaries, Shane had given a very interesting proposition to Ilya a couple weeks ago, one that he had been biding his time with.
Sometimes Ilya was so overcome with his obsession of his husband that he had to touch him then and there, had to be inside him in one way or another. Shane had made it pretty clear that he was perfectly fine with this. So when the need overcame him, Ilya would find Shane wherever he was. Sometimes it was in the kitchen where Shane was either cooking or cleaning the counters.
Ilya didn’t even have to say anything. He’d walk right up to Shane and slip his hand down Shane’s underwear. Shane would squeak as Ilya’s finger found his hole and slipped inside, already slicked with his spit, and he would kiss Shane’s neck and ask him if he wanted him to stop and Shane would shake his head no and carry on cleaning or cooking, all while Ilya warmed his finger inside his husband’s hole, sometimes moving just to feel the way Shane’s walls clenched and gripped around him.
And because Ilya also needed Shane on a molecular level, he’d slip his finger out, drop to his knees, pull down Shane’s underwear and sweats to his ankles, spread his cheeks apart and start lapping at his hole right then and there just to get a taste and Shane would just stand there and take it until Ilya had had his fill. And neither of them would cum, that wasn’t the point of this, though it’s hard to describe into words what the point was for either of them. It’s just that they needed each other all the time in so many different ways that it manifested in ways that some may call grotesque but to them meant love. Was that so bad? When what they did did not harm them or others.
Like this new thing that Ilya was going to try, which Shane had given explicit permission for Ilya to do.
You see, Shane was sleeping and Ilya’s obsession was getting louder with every breath. They had already had sex, and after some final cuddles, Shane had fallen into a blissful and deep sleep. Shane always slept the deepest when he had been truly fucked out of consciousness. And while Ilya had taken a moment to rest himself, he only came more alive and awake the more he stared at his husband’s sleeping form.
The problem was that Ilya had been counting Shane’s freckles again. He could only count one side of Shane’s cheeks since he was sleeping on his stomach, so Ilya had soon moved onto Shane’s back, his fingers tracing his spine, counting more freckles and noting the perfect symmetry of his muscles, moving down to his back dimples. The back dimples were probably where the flame picked up again truly. After one glorious night where Ilya had had the idea to cum into them until a little puddle of Ilya’s claim had formed into each divot, every time Ilya now stared at his husband’s dimples, he would remember that night and how he had truly mastered the art of painting every corner of Shane’s perfect canvas with his seed.
And by the time Ilya’s hand had gotten to Shane’s dimples, his finger tracing the memory of his pooling cum in little circles, he was soon throwing back the sheet that barely covered Shane’s ass, exposing his fully naked form to the air and to Ilya’s own eyes. No matter how many times he had seen his husband naked, every time felt like that first time. Because Shane was truly stunning, breathtaking, and Ilya could never get enough.
So Ilya moved down Shane’s body languidly until he was spreading apart Shane’s cheeks as he often did. Shane’s hole was pink and puffy and loose from their earlier lovemaking. Ilya brought his finger down to swirl it over his hole, tracing every wrinkle like he was feeling them for the first time again. He was reverent of Shane’s body and the things it did to accommodate Ilya’s own.
When he brought both thumbs together on Shane’s hole, tracing around the edge and pushing in to make it puff out even further, Ilya was already salivating and then sucking on Shane’s bud like he had been given a pacifier. Ilya felt Shane’s breath hitch but he still appeared to be fast asleep and Ilya continued to suck and then push and prod at Shane’s hole with his tongue until the action became what could only be described as Ilya French kissing Shane Hollander’s perfect hole all while Shane continued to dream.
Ilya was leaking on the bed within minutes, almost as bad as Shane would the instant Ilya touched his cock. Ilya knew he wasn’t going to last very long so, just at the cusp of his orgasm, he moved back up Shane’s body and thrust his cock back inside where it belonged, just in time for him to shoot his load inside his husband. It really only took that one thrust, and Ilya’s body had gone limp as his cock spasmed and emptied his balls into Shane’s perfect puffy hole. Even as his orgasm came to an end, Ilya didn’t have it in him to move, so he stayed exactly where he was with his cock going soft inside his husband’s sleeping form with Ilya finally getting sleepy himself.
Except Shane apparently wasn’t asleep anymore with the way his hand came up behind him to run through Ilya’s hair in a soothing motion. He must have awoken in Ilya’s haste to get his cock inside him.
“Better?” Shane asked, both their eyes still closed as they held each other.
Ilya could only nod, his cheek rubbing against Shane’s where his head had fallen.
Shane angled his head slightly so their lips could touch at the corners in what could only be described as the most gentle of kisses. And then he laid his head back down on the pillow, Ilya a weighted blanket on top of him, and they both fell blissfully back asleep.
Connected by ass and heart as was their way.