shane makes another frustrated noise of indignation and spits in the sink, shoving his toothbrush into its holder and reaching down to splash his face with cold water. he doesn't know how the fuck they managed to let this happen. he has never been late to practice. never. not once in his entire hockey career. and now, only one week into his placement on the centaurs, the unthinkable has happened.

"we need to start setting dual alarms," shane mumbles as he dries his face and tugs off his briefs, "i can't be in charge of it when it's the two of us, not when you're so fucking-" he cuts himself off, groaning again.

"so fucking....what?" shane can see ilya smiling in the mirror's reflection as he stands naked behind him, rubbing his thighs with his towel.

"so fucking horny in the mornings," shane says with a roll of his eyes, and then he's passing ilya to take his turn in the shower. he pays no mind to the firm slap ilya lays on his right ass cheek.

"oh, i'm sorry, did you not want me to fuck you?" ilya asks sardonically as shane turns on the shower, "mister 'i'm still all open'? mister 'fill me up again, please, ilya'?"

"can't hear you!"

"mister 'make me take it'?" ilya calls a little louder, even though he knows shane can hear him fine over the water, "mister 'fuck me awake'?"

"well, you didn't do a very good job did you?" shane calls back, frantically soaping himself, "you fucked me back to sleep."

"because it was good!"

"that's beside the point! you shouldn't have let me! and you shouldn't have fallen back asleep too!" shane grimaces a bit as he slows his washing speed to gently clean his hole, still sore and fucked open, "and now we're late for practice on my second fucking week."

"you know i will take full responsibility, shane."

shane shakes his head against the hot water and grumbles, rinsing himself quickly and then shutting it off. he stumbles out and ilya holds out a fresh towel, peering at him with a much more apologetic expression.

"i am sorry," he says, voice firm and serious, "you know i am sorry."

shane takes it from him and breathes deeply, "i know, baby."

"i did not mean to fall back asleep, really."

"i know," unable to stop himself when his husband is being so genuine and sweet, shane reaches over to cradle the back of his head, pulling ilya's face toward his. he kisses him softly, fingers tangling in his curls, "i love you," he mumbles against his lips, "i'm not really mad at you."

"i know you're not," ilya murmurs, brushing their noses together, "you are stressed. i love you too."

"now put some clothes on," shane tells him as he pulls away, "and let anya out to pee."

ilya salutes him and leaves the bathroom to go get changed, smiling to himself when he sees shane in the mirror checking out his ass. typical.

shane towels off his wet skin and reaches for his lotion. he'll be damned if he's gonna deal with the uncomfortable feeling of dry skin all day, even if he's in a rush. he moisturizes his body as quickly as he can and then carefully applies some soothing cream to his hole, hissing a little bit at the cool sensation. it's a reminder that this really is his fault, not ilya's. shane had been the one to shut off the alarm. he'd been the one who rolled over onto his stomach while ilya sleepily sat up. he'd been the one who'd murmured, "you fucked me so deep last night," then widened his legs and added "i'm still all open."

he can't really blame ilya for immediately reaching down to thumb his hole, cooing softly and croaking out a soft and sleepy, "are you sore, sweetheart? or do you need more?"

of course he'd asked for more.

he tosses the cream back onto the counter and nakedly walks to the toilet. piss, get dressed, grab water and a protein bar, leave the house, he thinks to himself. plan what the fuck you're gonna say to coach on the way there. don't let ilya take the fall.

at the thought of ilya, his husband suddenly returns to the bathroom, no longer naked, "anya is all good," he confirms with a smile, "i'm ready to go, just need to piss."

"just wait a second," shane says, already aiming his soft cock at the toilet bowl, "i'm going first."

ilya doesn't respond and shane figures he's just waiting his turn, standing by. shane's not bothered; it's nothing ilya hasn't seen before. he relaxes himself and starts peeing, still going over the short task list in his head.

it's only a few seconds later that his stream is suddenly joined by another.

"ilya, what the fuck," shane groans, but ilya can hear in his voice that he's not actually mad. he would never dream of doing this if he knew shane would be uncomfortable, "you can't just wait?"

"no," ilya says with a sly smile. shane looks down to see where ilya is holding himself, cock similarly soft and clean, releasing a steady stream, "is hot, yes? kind of?"

shane's about to say no, but then ilya is directing his stream over shane's, allowing them to cross. wordless, shane angles his cock to meet ilya's stream even more, eyes going a little glazed over as he watches both his and his husband relieve themselves together. ilya chuckles softly, and shane feels his big hand palm his lower back, pulling him a little closer. their sides touch, shane's naked body and ilya's clothed one, and shane shivers.

"fuck, it is kind of hot," shane murmurs, and he leans his head over to rest it on ilya's shoulder, still gazing down at their streams. he notices that ilya's cock is hardening a little bit, watches as his husband gently tugs his foreskin back a little.

"you're getting hard," ilya says suddenly, taking the words right out of shane's mouth. shane's brow furrows and he looks down at his own cock to see that ilya is very correct.

"fuck," shane says softly, acknowledging his hardening length but also acknowledging that this is really turning him on. he can't believe how much it's turning him on, actually. if they weren't late...

"d'you want me to pee on your cock?" ilya asks, and it's not a joke, it's a genuine question.

"fuck," shane says again, closing his eyes, "...not right now," he shakes his head in disbelief at his own words.

"oh god, hollander," ilya groans, resting his head against shane's as his stream starts to taper off "i think we might like piss stuff."

"now is not the time to explore that," shane admonishes, though he can't help but smile a little.

"but later?"

"yes. for sure."

ilya groans again and rubs shane's bare back softly as both their streams die out. shane thinks about ilya's offer, pictures what it would look like, what it would feel like, for ilya to claim him in that way. he shivers again as he taps off his excess, reaching over to grab a square of toilet paper.

"wait," ilya murmurs, and shane waits.

ilya tugs shane into him a little more so they're almost facing each other, angling their cocks together. still holding his own, ilya carefully taps the head of his cock against shane's, lets a small dribble of piss leak down onto shane's tip. they watch as it drips down slowly, and shane lets out a soft sound of pleasure.

"that's mine," ilya murmurs.

shane buries his face in ilya's neck, nodding against his warm skin as his cock thickens, "it is," he groans, "but fuck, ilya, this is not the time."

"i know," ilya rubs the head of his cock against shane's once more before pulling back, taking the square of toilet paper from shane's hand and dabbing himself, "now go get dressed or else wiebe will make you team goalie."