Shane hadnât been expecting to see Ilya the night of Ottawaâs Pride game, but he wasnât surprised to find him on his doorstep after midnight.
âCome here,â Shane said, arms open. Ilya collapsed into them.
Shane pulled him inside and closed the door. For a long while, he just held him in the dark, rubbing his back while Ilya breathed against him.
Shane had watched the game. It had been amazing, seeing the support from the fans for Troy Barrett. All the banners celebrating his decision to come out. Shane had watched the coming out video Troy had posted to his Instagram too. Heâd even teared up a bit, watching it.
He knew Ilya was happy for Troy too. Heâd seen how emotional Ilya had been during the long standing ovation Troy had gotten before the game had started. It had been a huge day for hockey.
But Shane also understood why Ilya needed to be held right now.
âAre you okay?â Shane asked quietly.
âNo,â Ilya said, his voice muffled by Shaneâs shoulder. âI am crashing, I think.â
âI get it.â
âIt was a wonderful night. I should be happy.â
âItâs okay to feel weird about it. I do.â
âYes?â
âYeah. Like when Scott Hunter kissed Kip on TV. It was amazing, but alsoâ¦fuck, right?â
Ilya laughed. âYes. Exactly that.â
All Shane wanted to do was take care of Ilya, however he could. Ilya always knew exactly what to do when Shane was a mess. âWhat do you need?â
âNeed you,â Ilya said simply. âJustâ¦need to stop thinking.â
Shane stepped back, but squeezed Ilyaâs hand. âCome upstairs. Iâve got some ideas for how to distract you.â
Ilya smiled and removed his coat, stuffing his toque into one of the pockets, and hung it up. He was still wearing the suit heâd left the arena in, including the dress shoes he was now sliding his feet out of.
âDid you drive here straight from the arena?â Shane asked as they walked upstairs together.
âYes.â
Shane reached a hand behind him, and Ilya took it.
âYou know I showered after the game, yes?â Ilya said with a gentle, teasing smile when Shane led him to the bathroom and its giant rainfall shower.
âThis shower will be better.â
Shane turned on the water and let the room fill with steam as they both undressed in the bedroom. It took longer than it needed to because they kept pausing to make out a bit.
âCome on,â Shane said softly. âShower.â
Ilya always looked spectacular when he was naked and wet. Shane had no idea how his teammates were able to shower with him without losing their shit. Shane certainly hadnât been able to, all those years ago.
âIs this shampoo new?â Ilya asked as Shane washed his hair. Ilya had to bend forward slightly so Shane could reach.
âYeah. You like it?â
âSmells nice. Like the ocean.â
âIt has seaweed or something in it.â
âEven your hair is healthy.â
âShut up. Rinse.â
Ilya obediently tipped his head back and rinsed his hair. The suds trailed down his body, dipping into the curves of his pecs and abs, and over and around his muscular shoulders. His cock was mostly soft, and Shane hoped to seize the opportunity that had been presented to him.
âCan I suck you?â he asked. âWanna feel you get hard in my mouth.â
Ilyaâs expression melted into pure desire. âYou should hurry.â
Shane sank to his knees, running his hands over Ilyaâs solid body. He mouthed gently at Ilyaâs soft dick before taking it fully in his mouth. Ilya hissed and began to stiffen immediately. Shane kept his mouth loose, his tongue barely touching Ilyaâs hardening flesh, and just enjoyed the sensation of being filled up.
When Ilya was fully hard, Shane pulled off and worshipped his cock with little kitten licks and kisses, then spent some time sucking gently under the head. Ilya murmured sweet nothings in Russian, his fingers tracing lightly along Shaneâs cheeks and into his wet hair.
âSo sweet for me,â Ilya murmured, in English.
Shane responded by locking his gaze on Ilyaâs and sliding his lips down, taking him deep.
He was pretty excellent at sucking dick these days. Like all things he wanted, heâd worked hard at it. Heâd studied, practiced, and visualized being able to do this. Being able to take his boyfriendâs cock into his throat and feel it grow even harder, nearly choking him. He loved how it felt, but more than that, he loved what it did to Ilya.
âYes,â Ilya sighed quietly, the word almost lost in the sound of rushing water.
Shane slid his hands around to Ilyaâs ass, gripping into the firm muscle and pulling him closer. His knees were already starting to hurt, but he could endure it. Maybe he should keep a yoga kneepad in the bathroomâ¦
âFuck, Hollander. That fucking mouth. Made for this,â Ilya growled above him, breaking Shaneâs boring train of thought. Shane hummed around him, because yes. He made for this. For anything Ilya needed from him.
He dipped his fingers into the crease of Ilyaâs ass and inquisitively brushed against his hole. Ilya wasnât always into this, but sometimes he was into it, and Shane had a feelingâ¦
âYes,â Ilya said. âKeep going.â
Shane pulled back slightly on Ilyaâs cock so he could focus on doing two things at once, while also being able to breathe. He sucked the head of Ilyaâs cock while he traced circles on Ilyaâs rim with one fingertip. Ilya moaned quietly above him. His eyes were closed and he looked like he might fall over, swaying slightly on his feet.
Shane gave his dick a parting kiss, then stood, keeping his teasing finger on his rim. âWhy donât we get you in bed, and Iâll give you whatever you need?â
Ilya nodded, and Shane turned off the water.
Shane dried Ilya off with a fluffy gray towel, starting with his hair, then his chest and arms and stomach, then down between his legs until he was once again kneeling at Ilyaâs feet.
Ilya tangled his fingers in Shaneâs wet hair and tugged slightly. âI need too much from you tonight.â
âYou can have it. Anything.â
A soft sound escaped Ilyaâs lips, close to a whimper. âTake me apart, Hollander.â
Shane dried himself off at lightning speed and followed Ilya to the bed. Ilya was already sprawled out on his stomach, a pillow under his hips, ass raised, making it clear what he needed. After three years of being an exclusive couple, they knew each otherâs bodies well, and they knew each otherâs limits. Ilya wasnât interested in bottoming any more than Shane was interested in topping, but sometimes Ilya liked it when Shane gave his ass some attention. Sometimes Ilya just wanted to be taken as far out of himself as he could go, and this seemed to do it for him.
Shane started with his tongue. He kept it light and soft, fluttering his tongue the way he liked himself. Ilya groaned and seemed to sink deeper into the mattress.
They didnât talk. Shane kept his mouth busy and Ilya, he hoped, was too out of his head to form words. Shane soaked up his moans and gasps and sighs as he increased the pressure of his tongue. Ilya was so tight, but Shane was finally, after several minutes, able to poke the tip of his tongue inside.
âOh,â Ilya gasped.
Shane should offer to do this more often. Ilya rarely asked for it, but maybe Shane had been missing times where Ilya had to ask for it.
Shane pulled back and admired his work so far. He suspected Ilya was ready for something deeper. âYou want fingers?â
âMmff.â
Shane laughed. âGonna need an actual word.â
âDa. Yes. Fucking come on.â
Shane fetched a bottle of lube, then paused as he stared into the nightstand drawer. âYou want to try a toy maybe?â Ilya hadnât been a fan of the dildo Shane had tried on him once, two years ago, but they had smaller things now. Little vibrating prostate massagers and plugs.
âNo,â Ilya said. âJust want you.â
Shane dropped a kiss on Ilyaâs temple. âOkay.â He drizzled lube on his fingers. âUm. So, do you wantâ¦â
âFingers, Hollander. Put your fingers in me. And fucking relax.â
Shane scoffed. âYouâre the one who needs to relax here.â
âYou are the one who is taking forever.â
âI liked it better when you couldnât talk.â
âThen make me forget how to.â
Shane playfully bit Ilyaâs ass cheek, then pressed a slick finger against Ilyaâs hole. He worked him slowly, carefully, until he could slip inside without much resistance, up to the second knuckle. He searched around until he found the spot that made Ilyaâs whole body jolt.
âHoly fuck,â Ilya panted. âI always forget.â
Shane smiled and started a rhythm. After a few minutes, Ilya was a trembling mess.
âGood, right?â Shane said softly. âLike waves. I love riding this feeling.â
âIt isâ¦a lot.â
âYeah. Like youâre gonna come but not exactly. It feels so fucking good.â
âYou come like this, sometimes.â
âI do,â Shane agreed. âAnd itâs fucking amazing.â
Ilya whimpered.
âYou wanna try?â Shane asked.
âI⦠Yes. Fuck. Feels like it will kill me. Rip me in half.â
âIt wonât. Let it happen.â
Shane knew Ilya was humping the pillow a bit, which was technically cheating, but it still took a surprisingly short amount of time before Ilya said, âDonât stop. Oh fuck. Shane,â then clenched hard around Shaneâs finger. His body rocked as he moaned and cursed, then finally stilled.
Shane extracted his finger and kissed Ilyaâs spine while he waited for him to come down. Finally, Ilya said, âI hope you did not like that pillow.â
Shane laughed. âThat bad, huh?â
âMy whole body just shot out of my dick.â
âDo we count that as a lower-body injury?â
Ilya rolled to his back and grinned up at Shane. âCome here so I can jerk you off.â
Shane knee-walked until he was straddling Ilyaâs waist. âI can do it. Your limbs are all noodly.â
Ilya folded his hands behind his head. âMy favorite show.â
Shane smiled and poured more lube into his palm, then got to work. Less than a minute later, he was on the brink of orgasm. âSorry,â he gritted out. âI canâtââ
âIs okay,â Ilya said. âCome on.â
Shane stopped trying to fight it, and let his orgasm slam into him, spilling all over Ilyaâs chest. Then, Shane collapsed forward and kissed him messily. âLove you,â he murmured against Ilyaâs lips. âSo much.â
Later, after theyâd cleaned up and Shane had put the unfortunate pillow in the laundry for tomorrow, they cuddled up together in bed. It was late and they were both struggling to stay awake.
âDid I tell you,â Ilya said, âthat Bood and Cassie had their baby?â
âNo.â
âThey had a boy,â Ilya said. âMilo.â
âNice name.â
âMm. I saw him. Very cute.â
Shane fiddled with the ring on Ilyaâs chain. âWhat would you name your son?â
âRoger Crowell.â
Shane cracked up. âHeâd love that.â
âRoger Crowell Rozanov.â
âStop.â
âOrâ¦â Ilya rolled on top of him, grinning. âRoger Crowell Rozanov-Hollander.â
âGod, thatâs a mouthful,â Shane said as his heart melted into goo. âHollander-Rozanov is alphabetical, though, soâ¦â
âSounds worse.â
âMaybe we could combine our names. Hollanov. Rozander.â
âRoger Rozander. Terrible name.â
âWeâre not naming our kid Roger, you sack of shit!â
They both laughed, and then kissed until exhaustion made their mouths sloppy and slow. Ilya fell asleep first, and Shane listened to his steady breathing as his own body fizzed with happiness.