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Days like today were Shane’s favorites.
Their game against Boston wasn’t until the next afternoon, but the team had flown in the day before.
Meaning he had a whole night with Ilya. Alone. In his apartment.
It almost felt too good to be true.
He had had the day (metaphorically) circled on the calendar for at least a month, and could barely contain himself as he waited by the fire alley door, waiting for “Lily’s” text.
Here.
Immediately, Shane was opening the door, seizing a surprised Ilya by the shirt, and dragging him up the stairs as fast as their legs would carry them, ignoring the laughter from Ilya that echoed in the stairwell.
Shane wanted to drown in him, to be swallowed whole by him, to live inside him forever.
He contented himself to dropping to his knees the moment his door was closed behind them, and sucking Ilya’s dick until Ilya had to pull him off, grinning as he kissed him and chasing him up the stairs to Shane’s bedroom.
It was strange, fucking in broad daylight. Shane might have felt self-conscious if it weren’t for the kisses that Ilya was placing all over his chest, possessive and adoring.
He laid back on the pillows, contented and blissful as Ilya worked him open, so slowly that it made Shane feel like he was sinking down into something outside of his body, away from the anxiety and the pressure of his everyday life.
He caught his breath as Ilya pressed a kiss to one of his trembling thighs, and settled himself more comfortably on the bed, ready for what he knew was coming next.
Well, until Ilya said something completely unexpected,
“You could get on top,” he suggested, sliding his hands up Shane’s sides.
Immediately, Shane felt himself slipping out of that relaxed place. Ilya was making him think, and he hated thinking when they were fucking.
“Oh, uh-” he looked away from him, across the bedroom, and he could feel Ilya’s head tilting, trying to catch his eyes, “I don’t-”
“What’s wrong?” Ilya asked, and Shane kind of hated how easily he could understand what he was thinking now. Well, he would hate it, if he didn’t love it quite so much.
“What if- What if it’s not as- Good?” Shane asked anxiously, one hand still wrapped around Ilya’s upper arm, “For you, I mean. I don’t know if I’d be very- Good at it.”
He glanced at him, and there was an annoying little smile on his face, one that made Shane want to fight back, even if only a little.
“You won’t be bad at it,” he sounded almost like he was trying to soothe a petulant child, “Is hot. We should try it.”
Shane still couldn’t look at him. He was so sure he’d be bad at this, that Ilya would laugh at him. Or even worse, decide that Shane wasn’t worth all this trouble, and stop calling him at all.
“Hollander,” Ilya’s voice came out of the panic his brain was working itself into, “We don’t have to-”
“I want to,” he said quickly, trying to get ahead of his anxiety, “I do want to I just- I don’t know I-”
Ilya leaned down, kissing him gently, leaving Shane wanting more.
“It will be fine,” he said quietly, “Really.”
Shane took a steadying breath through his nose, and nodded. Immediately, Ilya flipped them so he was laying on his back and Shane was staring down at him, his thighs straddling his hips. It was different, to be in this position, looking down instead of up at Ilya.
But even Shane, in his nervous state, could see how much Ilya wanted this. And the position made him feel powerful, and well…
He thought about that other thing…that stupid thing that had been plaguing his fantasies for weeks now, ever since he had made that dumb joke.
He should be able to just let it go. It was ridiculous, it’s not like Ilya would ever even be into-
“You want something too,” Ilya saw right through him, as usual, “What is it?”
Shane was too embarrassed to admit it.
“I just- It’s so stupid.”
Ilya was smiling up at him, evidently endeared by what a wreck Shane was.
“Just tell me.”
He paused, not even sure how to ask a question like this. He fixed his eyes on a point just above Ilya’s shoulder, and plunged forward,
“I- Well- Since we’re doing something different I just thought- I was wondering if you wanted to,” he mumbled his way through the rest of his sentence, too mortified to say it louder than a whisper, “If you wanted to fuck me like- Like a girl.”
Oh god, this was horrible, could he have worded that any worse? No. No he couldn’t have.
Ilya looked up at him, his head tilting to the side, his brow furrowed, like he was trying to understand what Shane had just said to him,
“You want me to fuck you like a girl, what does that mean?”
Shane hid his face in his hands, feeling his skin burning against his palms.
“It was just- A joke I made to Hayden-”
“Why are we bringing Pike into our sex life?”
“Never mind,” this whole thing was completely humiliating, “Never-”
“Hollander,” Ilya took his chin in his hand, turning his face so that their eyes met, “Tell me what it is.”
“It’s- Well I just- When Hayden told me that Jackie- That’s Hayden’s wife, was pregnant again, we ended up- Or, well, he asked me when I was going to settle down and get married and have kids and I- Well, I said something, and it was a joke, a total joke, but then I started thinking about it with- With you and- And- I don’t know- It seemed hot to me so-”
“Hollander,” Ilya gave his chin a little shake, bringing him back down to earth, “Spit it out.”
“I asked Hayden if he was going to get me pregnant next,” Shane closed his eyes so he didn’t have to look at the expression on Ilya’s face, “And then I thought it would be hot if we- Did that.”
The silence that descended between them made Shane want to die. Tentatively, he peeked through his lashes, trying to gauge Ilya’s expression, only to be met by a look of what he could only describe as pure, unbridled desire. He opened his eyes fully, looking down into Ilya’s, and that gooey, floaty feeling he only ever got when he was with him was simmering in his stomach again.
“I see,” Ilya’s voice was low and dangerous, “You don’t want me to fuck you like a girl, you want me to fuck a baby into you, huh Hollander?”
Instantly, Shane was so hard that he could barely see straight.
“Yes,” he moaned, so loudly that his voice echoed off his bedroom walls, “Yes I- That’s what I want.”
He felt Ilya’s warm laugh vibrating through his own chest, but he didn’t have time to be embarrassed or back out, because Ilya’s lips were on his, and Shane’s mind had gone completely and blissfully blank.
They kissed for a while, just long enough for Shane to forget about what he had asked, before Ilya was breaking them apart, and he was laying back down on the pillows, propped up enough so he could see and reach Shane’s hips.
“We start like this,” he lifted Shane up easily, guiding him back onto his hard cock, and Shane threw back his head at the feeling, trying to drop down farther, but Ilya held him back, grinning up at him.
“So eager,” he teased, and Shane rolled his eyes even as his chest heaved for breath, “Like that, slowly.”
It was torturous work, desperately slow, until Shane was fully seated on his lap, Ilya’s hands still holding him by the hips.
“Good,” his eyes glittered as he guided Shane up and down just slightly and Shane moaned brokenly, already enamored by the angle and how different it felt from anything they had done before.
“Fuck,” he splayed a hand on Ilya’s chest, moving on his own now, more eagerly, until he was bouncing up and down, eyes closed, lost in the new sensations and the sound of Ilya below him.
“You look so good like this,” Ilya said, his fingers gripping Shane’s hips so hard that Shane knew they would bruise. He loved the idea. “So good riding me. You like it?”
“Yeah,” his voice was high-pitched, almost breathy, “Fuck, right there.”
Suddenly, Ilya was holding him still. Shane looked down at him, outraged,
“What are you doing?”
“I thought you had something else you wanted to try?” Ilya arched an eyebrow at him, and Shane’s stomach immediately started to curdle with embarrassment again,
“We really don’t have to-” he started, but Ilya was already pulling him gently off his still hard cock, and Shane moaned at the loss, unable to help himself. He pressed a kiss to his shoulder as he laid him on his stomach, one hand tracing down the notches of his spine.
“I know you want it, Hollander,” he said in his ear, “And I’m going to give it to you. Everything you want.”
He positioned himself above him, pulling Shane up so that his ass was in the air, and dragged the hard head of his cock down his lower back, just away from where he wanted it most.
It drove Shane crazy.
“I’ll fuck a baby into you,” his voice was quiet, but Shane shivered all the same, “Get you pregnant if you wanted. You’d like that, huh? Having my baby?”
And Shane would like that. He would like that so much he didn’t even really know what to do with himself.
“Please,” his voice was muffled against the pillows, “Please.”
Ilya’s first thrust was slow and measured, angled in just the right way so that Shane felt like he was already close to coming.
“Don’t come,” Ilya warned him, and Shane whined, “I’ll stop if you do.”
The threat pulled Shane back to the surface, and he took several deep breaths through his nose.
“Okay,” he finally said when he felt he had some kind of handle on himself, “Okay.”
“You okay?” Ilya leaned down, kissing his shoulder again, and Shane smiled into the pillows, hiding his face.
“Yeah. I’m good.”
“I go harder now,” Ilya said, and Shane thought that he would die if he didn’t do it soon.
“Please.”
True to his word, Ilya picked up the pace, his hips slapping into Shane’s ass, the slick sounds of sex filling the room, and Shane felt like he was on a knife’s edge, doing everything in his power not to come just from this.
And Ilya was making it a thousand times harder, because he kept up a steady stream of dirty talk, half in English, half in Russian,
“So fucking good for me,” he crooned, one hand in Shane’s hair, pushing his face farther into the mattress, “Pretty boy that likes to get fucked, wants to get off to me fucking him raw?”
“Oh- Fuck-”
“So dirty, asking me to do it like this,” he shifted the angle, and Shane moaned, loud and long, caught up in the pillows as he tried to stop from coming, “Daydreaming about me filling you up with my cum all the time. How long has it been, Hollander? How many times have you gotten off to the idea of me coming inside you?”
He slowed enough for Shane to know that he expected an answer. He lifted himself up, trying to form any kind of coherent words with the soup that was currently his brain,
“All the- Fuck- All the fucking time. Want you inside me so bad- Every time I do it myself- It’s not enough- Need you.”
Ilya groaned, pressing his forehead in between Shane’s shoulder blades.
“So good sweetheart, letting me use you like this. I’ll fill you up over and over if you want me to.”
Shane’s head was swimming, his whole body felt coiled like a spring, ready to release at any second. But he waited, not until Ilya said he could.
“Are you close?” Ilya’s voice was tight, and Shane knew that meant that he was close too, “Want to come together.”
“Yeah, fuck- Give it to me.”
He heard Ilya’s wild laugh, and his fists clenched around the pillow he was holding, not even caring if he somehow managed to tear it in half.
“Wanna fuck you raw every time,” his voice seemed to come from far away, “Make it so you never forget who you belong to. Gonna fuck you again later, fuck my cum back in, just to make sure I put a baby in you.”
“Oh fuck,” Shane was overwhelmed, he couldn’t fight it anymore, “Please I’m gonna- Let me come please-”
“Yeah, come for me, sweetheart,” Ilya said, not slowing down, and Shane came untouched, so hard that his own cum hit him in the chin.
Moments later, Ilya was coming too, pumping himself inside of Shane. He sighed dreamily at the feeling, hoping that he wouldn’t pull out right away, but too fucked out to manage the words to ask him not to.
Luckily for Shane, Ilya seemed to read his mind, and eased them into a position where they were spooning, his softening cock still inside Shane.
His lips trailed down his neck, across his shoulder, and Shane hummed happily, burrowing into the contact.
“’M all sticky,” he finally managed after a while, making to crawl off the bed, but Ilya held him tighter, mouthing at his neck, his tongue tasting the dried sweat there.
“Not yet.”
Shane hid his smile in his arm.
“I’m all gross,” he groaned as Ilya eased out of him, “I need to shower.”
“No shower,” Ilya said, rolling on top of him and pinning his hands above his head.
“What?” Shane looked down at himself, his chest and stomach still covered with his own cum, “I have to shower-”
“I will get you a cloth,” Ilya was all business, already making his way to Shane’s bathroom, “I meant what I said.”
“What did you say? I don't remember,” Shane still felt boneless and dreamy, and barely registered when Ilya had returned, and was swiping a warm, wet washcloth across his skin.
“That I was going to fuck my cum back into you,” Ilya kissed him in a businesslike way, but Shane’s eyes widened.
“So that was- Okay? I mean, you liked it?”
“Mhm,” Ilya had crawled back into the bed, and slotted himself against Shane again, his teeth grazing his ear, “Was hot. You’re hot when you’re like that. Did you like riding me?”
Shane hid his face in the pillows again, blushing.
“Yeah,” he said, “Yeah I really did.”
“Good,” Ilya turned his head to kiss him on the mouth, “Because I want to watch you ride me until you come next time.”
“Okay,” he sighed sleepy and content, already half dozing.
“You can sleep now though, sweetheart,” and Shane turned, snuggling into his chest, and drifting off peacefully with the knowledge that Ilya would be there when he woke up.