Now I’m just thinking about it ugh it’s so good. I love scenarios that can be both sweet and sexy like this. The concept of Shane and Ilya in bed after dinner, Shane’s not too full but he’s definitely full, enough so that he feels nice and heavy and warm. It’s been a long day and he was already tired but now he’s just feeling so fuzzy and sleepy, the weight of the meal a comforting pressure as he reclines against the headboard next to Ilya. Glasses on, trying to read a few pages before they go to sleep, but he’s got his shirt off and Ilya is giving him a little belly rub and is gently squishing the pudge pushing out over the waistband of his boxers. He’s so content and his eyelids are drooping, and he puts the book down and sets his glasses on the nightstand and wriggles so he’s laying down fully and he’s yawning and stretching and pushing his belly further into Ilya’s hand. “Mmmm feels so good, Ilya, m’so sleepy.” And Ilya’s propped on one elbow, grinning at his adorable Shane laid out with his round, full tummy on display, squirming for him to keep rubbing it, looking so blissed out and content and so soft and beautiful. He runs one palm over it from top to bottom, feeling the slight bump just above Shane’s bellybutton where the firmer swell of his full stomach dips and transitions into softer, more malleable flesh of his lower torso. Ilya shifts so he’s sitting fully upright and can devote both hands to caressing Shane’s curves, keeps rubbing one hand over the upper half where Shane’s belly is still visibly a little rounded from the hearty meal he’d eaten not long before, and squeezes the soft, plump flesh of the lower half with the other. Shane moans softly, eyes closed, one arm reaching to grip Ilya’s bicep. “Did you have enough to eat, kotik? This tummy nice and full?” Ilya asks quietly, and Shane can hear the sincerity in his voice. He almost always knows the answer but he still likes to ask because he enjoys hearing Shane say it, and because he genuinely wants to make sure. He wants his Shane to be satisfied and well-cared for, and he should not go to bed hungry. Shane’s own hand joins Ilya’s, and he rubs a small circle on the crest of his stomach before giving it a little pat. “Yes, baby.” He pauses to yawn, patting it again. “Nice and full. Thank you again for cooking, you take such good care of me.” He opens his eyes and fixes his warm gaze on Ilya as he says the last part. Ilya shivers. He loves hearing Shane verbalize it like that. Ilya leans over, one hand still cupping Shane’s belly, and gently kisses him. “Always. Now is time for bed, yes?” And Shane’s nodding and making sleepy sounds of affirmation but also complaint because Ilya’s reaching over to turn the light off and pulling the blankets up which means his hands are gone. But Shane’s disappointment is short-lived; as soon as darkness settles over their room, Ilya is right back lying next to him, rubbing soothing circles over his tummy until he falls asleep. And it doesn’t take long, he feels so cozy and heavy and comfortable and cared for and everything he wants in the world is right here.
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