Work Text:
1
Shane's about to fall asleep.
Well, he doesn't actually think he'd fall asleep right now, but his eyes and limbs are heavy enough for it. The soothing hand Ilya is petting him with is guiding him towards it.
But he's not tired enough, at least not in that way. He's mentally and physically exhausted from today, but he knows it'll be awhile before his brain actually lets him sleep.
For now, he's content where he it.
For the past twenty-something minutes, Shane's been laying with his head in Ilya's lap and Ilya's soft cock in his mouth. The TV is on with the volume low, but Shane isn't even paying attention. His face is turned towards Ilya's belly.
Today was hard. Everything was too bright and too loud, and he had to speak to far too many people. By the end of it, he looked at his and Ilya's calendar to double check that Ilya was in Ottawa, then hopped in his car and drove the two hours it took to get here from Montreal in silence.
It didn't take them long to get to their current position. All Shane wanted was comfort and to not have to think, and this was one of the best ways to get both of those things.
He had laid down in Ilya's lap and tucked his fingers in his waistband, then looked up at him, asking. Ilya smiled warmly down at him and pulled out his cock and balls from his sweatpants. He let himself go, ready for Shane to do whatever he wanted and needed.
As Ilya's hands combed through his hair, Shane brought Ilya into his mouth and let out a long, relieved sigh though his nose.
Between his untalkative mood and how he was just letting Ilya rest in his mouth, Ilya had quickly caught onto what was going on. They did this often enough that it was normal. It was a sure way to reset Shane's brain.
Ilya shifts under him a little as he reaches for the remote, and Shane adjusts his mouth so he doesn't catch Ilya with his teeth as he moves. He hears the TV turn off.
"Malysh," Ilya whispers, gently swiping his thumb over Shane's cheek.
Shane slowly moves his sleepy eyes to look up at him. The way Ilya is looking at him is nothing short of adoration.
"Do you feel better now?" Ilya asks.
Humming, Shane lets his eyes slip shut and nods once. When they do this, the cockwarming that doesn't lead to anything, Shane doing things like humming and swallowing doesn't usually do much for Ilya. Not like it would if they were both intending to come.
But no one is intending to come right now. This is just for comfort, for both of them.
One of Ilya's large, warm hands slips under Shane's head. "I'm going to pull out now. It's time for dinner."
Carefully, Ilya's cock is removed from Shane's mouth, and Shane instantly misses the weight of it against his tongue. He misses the warmth and the fullness. He wonders if it would be worth the effort to go upstairs and put a plug in, just so he can have the solid heft of something in his body again. Probably. He wonders if he can muster enough words to go have Ilya get one and do it for him.
Shane opens his eyes again just in time to watch Ilya wipe the drool that falls from Shane's lips and dry his fingers on his sweatpants. Regretfully, he tucks himself away. Shane stares at his clothed cock longingly.
"I know, Shane, but we need to eat. Up, sweetheart."
Dinner is slow and easy. He watches silently from one of the island bar stools as Ilya prepares their food. Ilya keeps sneaking these little looks at him and making silly faces, and it's almost enough to make his own lips quirk up in a semblance of a smile. Almost. It's definitely enough to light him up inside.
As he watches, he think about how if he had stayed in Montreal tonight, he would have had to plan his own dinner. Even if it was just deciding which pre-prepared meal to pull out, there still would have been decisions to make. He still would have had to think about the correct way to heat up his food. Too much.
This is much, much better.
Ilya tells him about their new rookie as they eat, and it's a good distraction from thinking about the mess of today. All he has to do is eat his food and listen to Ilya's soothing, beautiful voice.
2
Under the water of the lake, Shane's swim shorts getting pulled clean down his body.
"Hey! Ilya!" Shane yells, but he doesn't think Ilya even hears him. He can feel Ilya swimming away, presumably with Shane's swimsuit because he sure as shit doesn't have it anymore.
The water ripples, and then Ilya pops up several feet away, a wide grin on his face. He holds up Shane's swimsuit above his head triumphantly, where they drip water down his arm and back into the lake.
"Got your shorts, naked boy!" he laughs.
"I'll show you naked," Shane says, then lunges for him.
They dart around the water, splashing and laughing. It doesn't take long for Shane to get Ilya's own swim shorts pulled off, or for them to toss both pairs up into the grass, or for them to grip each other's cocks as they pant into one another's mouths.
Shane tastes the lake water on Ilya's lips when he comes.
Afterward, it's slower. They lazily drag themselves out of the water and lay down on the dock, where they makeout for what feels like forever.
Eventually, the sun goes down enough that the chill in the air is impossible to ignore, and they make their way back to the cottage, naked and sun-dried.
Shane, like always, insists on both of them showering before either of them touch any fabric in the house that's not a towel. They carefully wash one another clean, ridding themselves of the lake for today. They tug on some underwear, reheat some leftovers, then pull each other into bed.
"Today was fun," Shane murmurs against Ilya's neck.
The two of them are pressed together down the entire length of their bodies. Shane can feel almost every inch of Ilya's body against his own, and they still aren't close enough. He wishes he could press them together so tightly that they just morph into one.
"It was."
Ilya's arms are around him, holding him close. Once, months ago, while they were in this same position only with more clothes on, Ilya had shoved his feet down the legs of Shane's sweatpants while he was still wearing them and forced his way under Shane's shirt. Shane remembers being sad when they eventually had to separate, disappointed that they couldn't simply live like that forever.
"Tired?" Ilya asks.
"Yeah, but not enough to fall asleep yet."
"Yes, me too."
They stay there for a while, breathing together and feeling each other. Shane's body is tired from the sun and the swimming. He feels heavy in the best way. It was a good day. A good day spent outside playing with his boyfriend. It was the best day.
Ilya's fingers run through his hair slowly. He think it'll probably be the thing to lull him to sleep eventually, once his brain catches up with his body.
"Moy malen'kiy kotik," Ilya says sweetly, punctuating his words with a kiss to Shane's forehead. "You keep making these happy little noises. Little sighs."
Shane only responds with a contented hum and a press of his lips to Ilya's neck.
He strokes across Ilya's torso, petting his skin and scratching his nails through the hair. God, he loves Ilya's body hair. He thinks he'd actually cry if he ever decided to wax or shave his chest or belly, or God forbid both.
He shakes his head loose of the thought, prompting Ilya to give him a questioning tug to the hair. Shane just kisses him softly.
His hand makes it down to Ilya's underwear. He slides it under the waistband, continuing the soothing motions of grazing through his course hair.
"Are you trying to start something?" Ilya asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.
"Mm mm," Shane hums in opposition. "No. Just…"
He lets the sentence die out and just continues with his ministrations. Ilya lets him. Shane feels him press a kiss to his hair.
Sometimes Ilya's body feels like a natural extension of his own. Like there's nothing between where Shane ends and where Ilya starts. It just keeps on going. Okay, it's not just sometimes—it's all of the time.
It almost feels like he's sticking his hand down his own pants. Like it's his own pubic hair he's lazily scratching and his own cock he's bumping against. Ilya sighing contently near his ear reminds him that it's not. Shane frowns.
He's really not trying to start anything, he's not, but he can't help the way his hand keeps moving down and the way his fingers wrap around Ilya's cock. It's like his hand has its own gravitation pull.
Shane rubs his length with his thumb slowly, then lets his fingers keep dragging down his cock until he's holding just his tip. With how he's soft, his foreskin bunches a little bit past the head. Shane gently, slowly, starts playing with it. Rolling the loose skin between his fingers and down his cock and pulling it just the tiniest bit. Not enough to hurt, just enough so that he can slip his thumb inside.
He's wet against the tip of Shane's thumb, but Shane doesn't think he's going to get any more turned on than that. They're both tired enough from today, they both came enough today, that nothing is really going to come of Shane's wandering hand.
Ilya tuts and pulls his hair lightly. "Using my cock as a fidget toy." His voice is sleepy and barely above a whisper.
Shane rubs the thin skin between his fingers. Shane's voice matches his when he replies, "Using your foreskin as a fidget toy. Get the details right."
Then it's quiet between them for a while. Shane keeps sleepily and lazily playing with his cock, right up until he hears Ilya start to snore a little.
He lifts his head to see Ilya asleep. He watches him for a moment, watches the way his eyelashes lay against skin and how he breathes, then lays back down. He tucks his face even further into the skin of Ilya's neck, somehow.
With his hand still tucked into Ilya's underwear, sleep finds him as well.
3
Shane has every intention of sucking his husband's cock.
He has a plan to get him close enough to coming that he starts pulling Shane back up his body urgently. To get him excited and desperate enough that he roughly flips Shane onto his belly and fucks him hard into the mattress.
He even starts mouthing Ilya through his underwear. He licks and kisses his hard cock, wanting.
But then he starts nuzzling him, and that's when something in his brain gets derailed.
His movements slow down to almost nothing, and then he stops fully, face still against Ilya's dick. Sighing, his body relaxes and he drops down heavily against Ilya's outstretched legs.
It's like something reset in his brain as soon as his face touched Ilya. Shane doesn't bother fighting it. They have all the time in the world to fuck. If his brain wants to cuddle with Ilya's crotch right now, he's not going to say no.
Under him, he can feel Ilya's body relax. His hands run soothingly over Shane's shoulders and neck.
Shane adjusts so his cheek is resting against him, with his nose and mouth pressed against Ilya's still hard cock, eyes closed. He drapes his arms over Ilya's hips and holds onto his waist.
Ilya hums. Shane can picture the way he probably has his eyes closed as he lays back on the pillow. From the way he hummed, there's a good chance he has on one of his sweet, content smiles.
That hum tells Shane that Ilya isn't too bothered by the forgotten blowjob. Shane thinks it's probably still on the cards, still has his plan to get fucked rough and hard.
But right now? This is good for right now.
+1
It started because Ilya was trying out some new workout shorts.
Some really short workout shorts.
Like so short that when he sat down between reps, Shane got a delicious eyeful of his upper inner thighs and the crease where they met his crotch. They're gray and the same fabric as sweatpants, and fuck do they hug Ilya in all the right places.
Shane knows he's staring. But he can't exactly be blamed, okay? Ilya is the one who chose to put on those shorts and wear them around his husband. He's the one who chose to get on the treadmill. He's the one who chose to sit on the stationary bike right next to where Shane was stretching on the floor.
Shane can't be blamed for how his gaze kept drifting to the way Ilya's cock moved behind the fabric as he ran. Or to the way his bulge pressed up from the seat of the bike.
He knows it's Ilya's fault for him getting hard when Ilya stands from the bike and adjusts himself right in front of Shane. They're barely three feet apart. Shane is at eye level with his cock.
"Taking a break?" Ilya asks. Shane's eyes follow his hands as he tucks his thumbs into his waistband and adjusts it. He sees a sliver of hair below his bellybutton, and then it's gone as Ilya drops his hands. "You've been sitting there for a while. Thought you were stretching?"
Shane averts his eyes. "Fuck off."
Ilya hums and starfishes out on the ground next to Shane. Fuck, it was bad enough that Ilya put on those fucking shorts. But that tank top?
Take a deep breath, Shane. You still have ten more minutes of stretching.
He knows exactly where he wants to be taking a deep breath right now.
He tries to finish it. He really does.
But then Ilya moves his arms so they're resting under his head, and it gives the perfect view of his sweaty, hairy armpits. Shane's done for, then. There's no coming back from this.
His eyes rake over Ilya's body, from his sweaty hairline, to those fucking shorts that are doing nothing to hide the way he's getting hard, down to his crew socks.
In a flash, Shane is straddling Ilya's hips and bracketing his head with his hands. He leans down so that their noses are touching.
"You fucking knew what you were doing with those shorts. You fucking tease." He grabs Ilya's wrists from under his head and pins them to the floor.
Ilya's eyes crinkle from the wide smile he gives Shane. "I did. Wanted to see how long it would take you. I almost thought about not wearing underwear, but I wanted to give you a fair chance."
"Fuck you! I could have held back," Shane lies, squeezing Ilya's wrists. Shane loves the way his fingers curl over his palms loosely.
"Yeah, sure, okay," Ilya scoffs. He pushes his hips up, searching. The way Shane is straddling him, their bodies aren't touching, so it's a useless move. "Are you going to suck my dick, or what?"
"You suck my dick."
"Uh uh, I don't think that's what you want. But maybe I will. As reward if you get me off good enough."
It's Shane's turn to scoff now. "Good enough. As if I've ever made you come in a way that wasn't good."
Ilya just hums, wiggling his hips between Shane's knees and watching Shane's lips. Leaning down, Shane kisses him. It's immediately filthy and wet. Their tongues lick sloppily into each other's mouths, and Shane lets his weight fall down so he can finally press their cocks together. They both moan hungrily.
Shane indulgently kisses his way across Ilya's face and to his bicep. He can never get enough of these big arms. It's kind of ridiculous how into them he is. Sliding one hand from Ilya's wrist to his forearm, Shane presses wet kisses against Ilya's arm. He makes a wet trail down to his armpit.
He can tell that Ilya hasn't put on any deodorant for at least a day. Probably not since his shower after their workout yesterday morning. He shoves his face into Ilya's hairy, damp skin and savors the musky smell. He gives him a few kisses.
"Fuck, Shane." Ilya tries to break his wrist free from Shane's grasp, and so he finally lets him go in favor of running a hand down Ilya's torso.
He stays there for a moment, tongue lapping and lips kissing while his other hand toys with Ilya's waistband, before pulling back. He pulls Ilya up by the biceps off the hard floor and pushes him towards the yoga mat Shane had been using to stretch.
"Lay down. Let me see you."
"I think you can see plenty of me," Ilya says, reaching down to grope himself obscenely. He shakes his bulge.
And Shane is but a man.
"Jesus Christ," he mutters before diving in.
He lays fast kisses down Ilya's belly until he reaches his shorts. There, he pushes his shirt up so he can lick at the hair under his bellybutton. Above him, Ilya groans and runs his hands through Shane's hair and over his back under his shirt.
Ilya spreads his legs as Shane finally moves down Ilya's body enough so that his face is right above his cock. He pauses and looks up.
Ilya's face is red and he's breathing heavily. Shane knows it's because he just worked out, but he also knows that part of it is because of Shane. Because of what Shane is doing to him. His lips are pink and wet, and he's looking down at Shane with such a look of awe.
It's been a fucking decade and a half of being on the receiving end of that look and Shane still can't get enough of it. He still feels honored every time Ilya looks at him like that.
"You going to make me come, Hollander?"
"Yeah, I'll make you come, Rozanov."
And with that, Shane finally, finally, gets his face in Ilya's crotch. He noses deeply into the fabric of the shorts, inhaling and feeling the outline of him. Fuck, after all of that working out, he smells so fucking good. Musky and sweaty and masculine.
This is one of Shane's favorite spots in the whole fucking world.
He spends some time there, just mouthing Ilya through the sweat shorts. He teases his fingers under the hem and rubs his thumbs against the hot crease of Ilya's thighs.
"Shane," Ilya moans. "Please. More."
His fingers tug at Shane's hair, but Shane indulges himself a bit more. Still through the shorts, he massages and squeezes Ilya's balls. He whines softly as he presses his face fully against Ilya's cock, eyes closed.
"I know you want more, malysh. Take my shorts off. Get my cock out." He rubs his thumb across Shane's cheekbone.
"Fuck you," Shane says weakly, but does as he's told.
He knows he'll get distracted and want to press his face to Ilya's underwear if he doesn't take it all off in one go, so he grabs both the waistband of the shorts and his underwear and pulls them both down and off Ilya's legs.
Ilya's cock hits his belly heavily as it's released from the fabric. Shane wastes no time in getting his mouth on him.
"Fuck, yes! Yes," Ilya sighs, hands holding onto Shane and petting him.
The blowjob he gives Ilya is nothing short of sloppy and indulgent. After a few minutes of sucking him, there's enough spit on Ilya's cock that he could probably fuck him. Shane adds to it by pulling off and spitting on the head.
Ilya bucks his hips up when Shane rubs the spit around with his thumb. He teases at his slit for a moment, then leans back in and swallows him down. He doesn't stop until his lips are touching Ilya's pubes.
It took a while for Shane to be able to deepthroat Ilya. Once he realized he couldn't without gagging, he practiced in between hookups with Ilya so that he wouldn't gag anymore. Years and years later, he's endlessly happy for his dedication to the craft.
He pulls on Ilya's hip, encouraging him. Without hesitation, Ilya starts thrusting up, fucking his face and forcing noises out of him each time his cock hits the back of his throat.
Shane remembers being embarrassed the first time he made one of those noises. Now though, he's only spurred on because he knows how hot he finds it when he can make Ilya make those noises.
Sure enough, Ilya's moaning gets louder. "Shit, Shane. So good. So beautiful."
He lets it go on for a little big longer, then taps Ilya's hand a few times. The wet slurp that happen when he gets pulled off of Ilya's cock is honestly kinda gross, but it's also incredibly hot.
With Ilya's hands back to petting his face and hair and shoulders and fucking everywhere, Shane takes Ilya in his hand and rubs his leaking head over his lips. He kisses down his length, then gets his balls in his mouth. He gets them just as wet and sloppy as he got his cock. They're already halfway there from dripping drool and spit.
Ilya gasps and whimpers when his lips travel lower.
This is also one of Shane's favorite places in the world.
He drags his lips and tongue across Ilya's taint as he grabs the back of his thighs and pushes them towards his chest. With his hole exposed now, Shane takes a moment to pause and admire him.
He really is gorgeous from this position. All of the most intimate parts of him are on display for Shane's eyes only.
"I know you talk all the time about how pretty my hole is, but damn, Ilya," he breathes out.
He traces his thumb over the dark hair around Ilya's hole. He's damp here, too, just like he is everywhere else. Shane leans in and licks the sweat off of him. He gets his mouth on every single inch of Ilya he can reach from this angle.
Ilya's back arches, and Shane returns both hands to his thighs so he can push him down. As Shane laps over his hole, Ilya moans loudly and grips Shane's hair.
This, with Ilya on the receiving end of anything ass related, isn't something they do too often. Maybe once every couple of months. Shane savors it every single time.
"Yes, there, Shane, ah!"
Shane licks and sucks at him, then presses his tongue in. He works him over until his tongue is sore. He knows he's going to have to stretch his neck out after this so it doesn't get stiff. When it starts getting a bit too painful to stay in this position, he pulls back and sits on his shins.
He doesn't give Ilya a rest, though. Immediately, he has his cock in his hand and is stroking him quick enough that it has Ilya writhing. With his other hand, he keeps his focus on Ilya's hole.
Holding him open with his thumb, he spits against him. Ilya whines, then keeps whining when Shane pushes the spit inside him. He keeps fingering him, reaching for his prostrate and smiling when he brushes it. It earns him a beautiful moan and plea from Ilya.
Shane leans back in and returns his mouth to Ilya's cock. He knows he's going to come soon. It never takes him too long when he's being stimulated in both places. He sucks him fast and quick.
He pulls back, lips against Ilya's cock head, just long enough to say, "Come on, baby, come in my mouth," before he's diving back in.
He's bracketed by Ilya's thighs as he swallows his cum. The big, hairy heft of them press against the sides of his face.
"Oh fuck, Shane," Ilya pants. He's even more red than he was when he got off of the machine earlier.
Shane lets Ilya's cock fall from his mouth and savors the way it drops down wetly and heavily against his belly. He kisses his way back up his torso until he can kiss Ilya on the mouth.
"So good, malysh," Ilya says into his mouth. He kisses him again as his hands slide down Shane's body to his ass. "Your turn now?"
"Please." Shane licks into him and slaps his cheek lightly. "But then you're helping me finish my stretching."