Chapter Text
1
Ilya stared down at Shane. Beautiful, perfect Shane who was kneeling before him as Ilya sat on the bed. It was one of his favorite positions to see Shane in. The other of course being Shane on his back. And Shane on his front. And Shane on his hands and knees. And Shane with his legs pushed up around his ears. And Shane with his mouth around Ilya’s cock. Really, Ilya liked Shane in all positions.
What Ilya did not like was that Shane was currently fighting back a huge yawn, and not very well at that.
“Sorry,” Shane said after his jaw finally clicked shut. “I’m just so fucking tired.”
“Not too tired to suck my cock,” Ilya said. Or at least he hoped. It had been a long fucking week and they were both tired. Just in the past few days, they had come within a hairs-breadth of winning the cup, driven back to Ottawa, and stopped at Yuna and David’s for what had become a long and lingering dinner as they discussed the Centaurs playoff run before finally making it to the cottage.
Ilya didn’t like how the playoffs were still taking over half his thoughts. He and Shane had helped bring the team to game seven of the Stanley Cup finals, only to lose it all to the fucking Pittsburgh Puffins. Like what the fuck was a fucking puffin? Not that he could really say anything, considering the half-man, half-horse atrocity that graced his own jersey.
Ilya pushed all that noise away. Now was not the time to be thinking of the elder Hollanders or their loss. Now was the time to be thinking of Shane’s mouth around his dick. But Shane’s eyes were starting to droop, so Ilya grabbed the base of his cock and swung it from side to side, watching as his husband’s eyes opened wider to track the movement. It was almost hypnotic, Ilya thought, as he swung himself. And yes! Shane’s lips were starting to part, and he was leaning forward, and he was placing his hands on Ilya’s thighs, and…!
For a glorious moment, Ilya thought he would finally feel the wet heat of his husband’s mouth around his cock again, but then Shane’s jaw kept opening and opening and opening, until he gave out another huge yawn.
“Okay, come here,” Ilya said, hauling Shane up by the armpits. It was a testament to how tired Shane was that his own cock, usually so flushed and ready and erect at even the slightest potential that Ilya would be touching it, was at half-mast at best. Perhaps even quarter mast. Definitely a symbol of mourning, if he had ever seen one. Ilya was definitely mourning this lost opportunity to fuck Shane into the mattress. The fact that he had done so thousands of times before did not matter. He always wanted to fuck Shane.
“Do you want to just…” Shane made a complicated gesture with his hands that was accompanied by a slight thrust of his hips.
“I did not know you also spoke sign language along with bird language, Hollander,” Ilya said, and Shane rolled his eyes.
“Fuck off, I meant did you want to, you know–” and it was ridiculous really, after all the filthy and depraved things they had done to each other over the years, that Shane could still blush when talking about sex, “–jerk off on me.”
Ilya had maybe thought that Shane was going to send him to the bathroom to get himself off, or even worse, leave the room so he could do it on their bed. (As if Ilya would ever want to jerk off alone knowing his husband was in the house with him. Ilya had already proved he was quite willing to travel an exorbitant amount of distance just to touch Shane, and that wasn’t about to change now.)
“Do you want?” Ilya asked, just a bit doubtfully. Shane’s eyes were already closing again.
“Yeah I do,” Shane mumbled as he got on the bed. He laid himself out, above the covers, one bicep thrown over his face.
Ilya’s cock grew even harder as he ran his hands up his husband’s legs, over the coarse hair on his calves, past the soft skin behind his knees, across the thick muscles of his thighs, all the way to where his own semi-swollen cock lay against his neat patch of pubic hair. Fuck, Ilya loved Shane’s cock. He loved it so much he couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and giving it a little bite.
“Ow, fuck. Watch it,” Shane said, but there wasn’t any heat in it so Ilya ignored him and bit it again, just as gently.
“Jesus, fuck, Ilya,” Shane said, opening his eyes so he could glare down at him. “I’d prefer to keep my dick attached to my body, if you don’t mind.”
Ilya rolled his eyes, but gave Shane’s dick one last small small kiss and a nuzzle before he threw a leg over his husband’s broad chest, straddling him.
“I could bite it in half and you would still have so much left,” Ilya teased. “Would still be bigger than anyone else.”
“You’re fucking ridiculous,” Shane said. His eyes were closed again, but his freckled cheeks were flushed. Ilya wanted to bite one, so he leaned forward and did it, kissing it afterwards to sooth the sting.
“You love it,” Ilya said into his ear, and then bit him there, too. “You love being the biggest. Just another way you are the best.” Shane was laughing now, and bringing a hand up to try and cover Ilya’s mouth, but he batted it away. “You love having a huge cock to swing around in the locker rooms, don’t you?” he continued, reveling in how he was making Shane smile. “You love how all the guys look at me and wonder how I could take your monster dick. They don’t know that it’s just decorative. Just there to make you look even prettier.”
“It’s fucking not and I fucking don’t,” Shane said, and Ilya bit him again, on the nose this time, for being such a terrible liar, and for being so fucking bite-able. He loved pressing his teeth into Shane’s skin and muscle. Sometimes he wished he could just crawl into Shane and live inside of him, melted into his tendons and bones, flowing along his bloodstream, content and warm and loved. His dick throbbed at the thought.
Shane felt Ilya move, and shot him an amused smile. “What’re you thinking?” he asked.
“How I know you will get hard watching me do this,” Ilya lied, and licked his own hand and wrapped it around his own cock, giving it a few pulls. “How you will probably come just from watching me come on you.”
In the end Ilya was only half-right. Shane didn’t come, but his cock was at full mast by the time Ilya had come all over his chest. So he stayed where he was, pinning Shane down in the way he knew his husband liked as he reached behind his back to jerk him off. As he did, Shane’s head rolled back, exposing the column of his throat. Ilya wanted to bite it. Wanted to suck on it. Wanted to leave a mark that would remind everyone that Shane was his. So he did, and it didn’t take much longer until Shane came with a low moan, shooting all over himself and the bed and Ilya’s ass.
“Never in my life have I met such a lazy fuck,” Ilya said after, as he gently wiped Shane down, making sure he was completely clean. Shane hated the feeling of dried come on his skin, and the accompanying flaking itchiness that came afterwards.
Shane’s eyes were already closed again, but he held up one hand to give Ilya the finger.
“Moya lyubov,” Ilya said with too much affection. My love. “Up, so I can change the sheet. Then you can sleep.”
Shane rolled off the bed with a grunt, only standing as long as it took for Ilya to pull away the offending duvet and immediately falling back onto the bed once it was gone.
“Next time we gotta pull out the sex blanket,” Shane murmured as Ilya stripped the dirty cover off the duvet and pulled on a fresh one.
“Da, milyy,” Ilya said, getting in bed next to him. Yes, darling. He curled up behind his husband’s back, admiring the scattering of freckles that dotted his shoulders and neck. They couldn’t stay like this for long – they were two professional athletes, and had long ago learned that they produced far too much heat to sleep cuddled together without sweating to a disgusting degree – but Ilya always enjoyed having a quick cuddle before sleep took them.
“Gimmie kiss before you pass out,” he said quietly.
Shane twisted around and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Goodnight, Ilya,” he said with another yawn.
“Goodnight, Shane,” Ilya said. “Tomorrow I will fuck you like you want, yes?”
“Sounds good to me,” Shane said sleepily, turning back to his pillow. He was snoring a minute later.
Ilya lay awake for a little while longer, scrolling on his phone and reading his texts as a warm feeling bloomed in his chest. They hadn’t won the cup, but they had come close. Next year, he believed, it would be theirs. And in the meantime, he had a whole summer with Shane at the cottage ahead of him. There would be plenty of time to play around and work on their hockey camps and attend to the foundation and have their friends visit and, most importantly of all, fuck and fuck and fuck Shane’s beautiful ass much as he wanted.