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Shane was still catching his breath after pushing into the house after his run. Even at seven am, the summer air was already thick and sticky–the heatwave they were under not doing any favors. He was just glad that he and Ilya would be escaping to the cottage later with Anya, where the temperature would be cooler.
Shane’s hands rested on his hips as he toed off his sneakers and tugged at the muscle tank clinging to his torso.
“What the fuck?”
Shane’s gaze snapped up when he heard his boyfriend, and his brows furrowed a little, unsure what warranted that sort of morning greeting.
“What is it?” Shane asked. “You’re up early.”
Ilya waved a hand dismissively. “Your hat. Backwards. And you are all sweaty,” he said, stalking forward as if he suddenly had his eyes on prey.
Shane’s mind scrambled to figure out what those two things had to do with each other, and why Ilya was looking like he wanted to swallow Shane whole.
“Uh… it’s hot?”
“Fuck, Shane,” Ilya said, his hands circling Shane’s wrists as he gently backed the other against the wall. Ilya then lifted Shane’s arms, pinning them up to keep them still. “My fucking hot jock boyfriend,” Ilya murmured, leaning in to lick a line up Shane’s sweaty neck.
Shane could feel the moan that Ilya let out against his skin, and his hips twitched forward before he could stop them.
“Ilya,” he groaned out, a little flustered. “I need to shower.”
“Shut up,” Ilya said, his head dropping a little.
If Shane thought he was already flustered, Ilya’s face near his armpit made him stiffen and flush an even brighter red. The loud moan Ilya let out was the only thing that had Shane relaxing again.
“Come on. I need you to ride me. With hat on,” Ilya said, tugging Shane away from the wall.
“Fuck,” Shane laughed, though the spark of arousal had him quickly following his boyfriend upstairs. He was acutely aware of Ilya tugging their clothes off on the way, leaving a messy path that Shane would grumble about later.
It was almost comical how quickly Ilya moved–how he had Shane bent over the side of the bed in what felt like seconds and worked one, two, and then three fingers deep with the quick expertise that came from years of knowing Shane’s body.
“Fuck. Bed. Up,” Ilya said, hand slapping Shane’s ass cheek and letting the loud noise ricochet off the walls.
Shane was quick to comply, their bodies moving into position with a dance that they had perfected over many years. He straddled Ilya’s hips before lowering and taking the other, his head tilting back a little as he felt how thick and deep Ilya was when splitting him open.
“Fucking perfect,” Ilya murmured, his hands all over Shane’s sweaty body as if making sure heat continued to cling to his skin.
Shane was quick to start moving, fucking himself on Ilya’s cock and moaning when the other started thrusting up to match his movements.
Their bodies kept moving, pace quickening as the desperation built. Shane approached his orgasm quickly, tumbling into pleasure as Ilya didn’t let up and used a firm hand on his cock to coax him over the edge.
He watched with delight as Ilya followed him too, feeling Ilya shooting inside him, and knowing he’d have even more mess to clean up later.
“You’re fucking scrubbing me down in the shower,” Shane said, letting out a laugh as he rested his elbows on Ilya’s chest.
“You say this like it is hardship,” Ilya said, pinching Shane’s hip with a laugh. “I’ll clean you with my hands and tongue. Promise.”