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When Lisa has a bad shift at work and suddenly has Wyatt planning how he wants to be buried/his funeral and Shane and Ilya both decide when they die (at the same time) they will be sharing a coffin. Or even better going full Classics mode and mixing their ashes together. They declare this out loud then return to stick taping.
Shane calling Lisa to ask if they (doctors) would do elective surgery to transplant their bones into each other on speaker phone. Ilya is beaming.
Shane watching Ilya tape his stick. Ilya who only developed his “way” of taping his stick post 2017 All Stars when he saw how Shane did it. They match. Shane acts like Ilya is performing a strip tease.
Ilya hearing Shane talk to the new Russian rookie in Russian, talking abt how if he ever needs anything to call Shane and/or Ilya. He knows how isolating it can be etc etc. Ilya finds it sweet but is irrationally possessive about Shane speaking Russian to anyone else ever.
Ofc they’re compatible blood types and at some point Shane discovers some new “health spa” thing that does private blood transfusions. He books an appointment for him and Ilya. On full volume on his headphones in the middle of the gym. The Ducklings (younger players) are now convinced Shane and Ilya are vampires. When they try to bring it up to anyone else Bood asks Ilya and Ilya beams and goes “we switched blood”. The same voice and tone as “we got Anya a little sister” after a long weekend where they acquired a kitten.
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Thinking about myshane waking up the morning after being fucked by Ilya for the first time. Anyone for the first time. He rolls over in bed and there’s a twinge in his thigh, not an unfamiliar ache from training- but then, then he feels the puffy swollen stretched feeling deep, at the softest part of him. Oh. That’s new. And like. It makes him dizzy, makes his cock pulse and chub just a little as he thinks about how Ilya made him sore, how he opened him on fingers, how shane took his whole cock last night, deep and hard and he’d wanted more. Felt empty when Ilya had pulled out. He’s been scared and now he was aching for it again. He gets up to shower and he feels like he should look different in the mirror, some part of him should look different for his changed he feels. He rolls his eyes at himself and he lols over his body in the mirror. But then. Then he showers and cleans himself, feels over his hole and he does feel different, softer and achy and Ilya had been there, inside. Shane wants to see it, and he positions himself with a hand mirror and a leg up to see the soft smooth of his hole, pushes just the pad of his thumb against himself and gasps when he sees how he gives to take it. Fuck. He quickly gets rid of the mirror and puts his leg down, goes about getting changed and adamantly stops thinking about it. But he can feel it all day, where he took Ilya.
i need ilya to be the little spoon so bad. i need shane to be so curled up around him. i need him nuzzling into shane’s chest. i need his curls to be pet and played with. i need him tucked into shane’s neck. i need his back scratched. i need shane cooing in his ear. i need him to have so many soothing kisses. i need him to wake up so wrapped up and loved up, he forgets for a moment that he ever felt lonely.
first post for context / see the tag 'open relationship au' for more snippets or the masterlist so kindly put together by @tafkarfanfic.
June 2015
It's been a day since Shane sent that message to Brian. A little over two hours since Brian's plane landed. Ten minutes since he texted Shane, telling him he was almost there.
Six seconds since he knocked on the door.
Shane is so anxious he feels numb as he reaches for the handle. He's practiced what to say but he has no idea what to expect from Brian, no way to really mentally prepare.
He's knocked off course immediately as he sees Brian.
His face is bruised, an angry dark purple stretched across his cheek. It's such an incongruous sight - Shane can't remember the last time he saw an injury like that on someone other than a hockey player - that it takes him a moment to figure out what he's even looking at.
"What happened?"
"Can I come in?" Brian asks instead of answering.
Shane steps aside, head still reeling. Once Brian is inside, leaning against the kitchen counter, he asks again, "What happened?"
"I, uh, kinda got into it with this drunk homophobe," Brian says, smiling wryly. "I wouldn't have engaged but I was kinda drunk too, so. I'm just lucky my friends were there and he was alone because it could've ended really badly."
Cold fear pools in Shane's stomach at the thought. He knows the kind of violence gay people face, has seen what even perceived queerness gets met with in locker rooms across every level, but this feels different, the stark, ugly reality of it staring at him in the face.
"That's awful," he says. "Are you okay?"
Brian shrugs one shoulder. "I'm fine. It probably looks worse than it feels. Anyway, it's not why I'm here."
"Oh." Shane shifts on his feet. "Right. Uh..."
"I really fucked up, coming to Vegas."
Shane blinks. Brian is looking at him, brows drawn, and Shane doesn't know what to do with the contriteness he sees on his face. This isn't how he expected this conversation to go, and it hasn't even really started yet.
"It was so inconsiderate of me," Brian continues. "I just knew that I really wanted to be there, even if we couldn't see each other. I didn't think about how much it would stress you out, and I should have because I know what's at stake for you."
"That's, uh - " Shane doesn't know what to say. Even if we couldn't see each other. Would Brian really have been fine with that, if Shane had just asked instead of making an argument out of it right away? "I guess I overreacted a little."
"Babe, no. You were right, I shouldn't have been there." Brian laughs, running a hand through his hair. "Truthfully, I feel like I've been going a little crazy over you lately."
"...You have?"
"I've been really jealous," Brian admits. "I think... maybe opening the relationship was a bad idea."
Shane has no idea how they got here. He feels ten steps behind, his planned speech up in smokes. These are all things he never in a million years would have thought he'd hear Brian say.
"It seemed to make sense at the time. But now," Brian waves a dismissive hand, "I feel like an idiot for suggesting it in the first place. For not closing it again when you asked for it, last May."
Shane doesn't remember asking for that. He remembers telling Brian that not seeing Ilya anymore would amount to the same thing on his side, but that hadn't been the point. He'd wanted to be able to keep seeing Ilya because he liked him - not that he'd realized this about himself at the time.
Right. He needs to get this conversation back on track.
"It wasn't a great idea," he agrees. "But it happened and it - it changed things for me."
Something sharpens in Brian's gaze and Shane looks away, feeling oddly ashamed.
"This is about Rozanov," Brian says. It isn't a question.
Shane nods at the floor. "I, uh. I like him. He likes me, too."
"And now you want to leave me for him."
It sounds so unbelievably cruel, phrased like that. Shane can't bring himself to look up and he startles when Brian's hand cups his cheek, nudging his chin up.
"And then what?" Brian asks, voice gentle. "It would be a hundred times more complicated being with him, wouldn't it? You don't even live in the same country. And what happens when he loses interest?"
Shane's stomach twists at that. It feels wrong, to think of Ilya as being so fickle, but it's been nagging at him all the same.
Brian's thumb brushes softly across his cheek. "This is my fault. I know I haven't been a good boyfriend lately, but I can make it up to you. I just need the chance."
It's so difficult, remembering how awful Brian made him feel before when right now, he's being so gentle. Saying all the right things, actually admitting to fault in a way Shane has never heard him do before.
"I love you so much, Shane. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."
Shane swallows. He can't even say it back, the words getting caught in his throat as he thinks them. They wouldn't be true; he doesn't love Brian anymore. When did that happen?
"I - I don't-"
"One chance," Brian pleads. He kisses Shane and Shane lets him. "This is just a stumbling block, I promise. We can go back to how we were."
Shane isn't sure he can believe that. He doesn't even know that he wants it to be true. But denying Brian the chance to even try feels wrong. Like quitting mid-game.
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i think the first time they have sex missionary without a condom ilya is so overwhelmed by staring into shane's eyes and knowing shane loves him and knowing shane has welcomed him into his favorite place in the world that ilya cries during sex. ie, ilya cries during sex before shane cries during sex. send ask.
Anon you are right and you should say it. I’ve been on this wavelength for a while. I think it only gets worse the longer they’re together.
As soon as he feels the tears spill from his eyes, Ilya tries to duck away, to hide his face against Shane’s throat, or maybe distract him with a hand around his cock between them. But Shane’s hands are strong, and he circles Ilya’s face, holding him in place. The tears wash over Shane’s fingers, finding Ilya’s skin again through the gaps. Wetness coats his fingers, slicking Shane’s grip, but he sures it up, pressing with the pads of his fingers.
“Keep looking at me?” Shane says, almost a question, but it’s not a question at all whether Ilya will obey.
“Of course.” Ilya turns his face enough to fit one of Shane’s fingers in his mouth, sucking the salt of his own tears until he only tastes skin.
It feels so good inside Shane, Ilya wants to stay there forever. It feels so good to look at him, to take in the serenity of Shane’s pleasure. Slow, slow, Ilya has said before, when it was Shane who had been in a hurry. It’s worth it to insist on taking their time, and they have nowhere to be. The windows are open and they hear birds outside, the lapping of the lake. Not all birds make pretty sounds, but it’s offset by the tinkling of the wind-chime hanging to catch the breeze. A gift from his parents when he’d first built the cottage, Shane has said.
“Look at you,” Ilya breathes, letting Shane’s finger fall from his mouth, pumping the full length of his cock inside of him. Inside of his lover. As much as Shane balks at the word, Ilya loves it. He knows Shane loves it too.
“You’re not so bad yourself.” Shane thumbs at the tears continuing to fall from Ilya’s eyes. “Come on baby, want you to come.”
The endearment sends a pang through Ilya’s chest, down his belly, and to the root of him. It’s not the first time Shane’s used it. He likes it, likes what it does to Ilya. Ilya speeds up the thrust of his hips. He braces himself on his elbows, his stomach brushing Shane’s cock on every stroke.
“I want you to come in me so bad, baby,” Shane says, finally closing his eyes and giving in to the pleasure. Ilya buries his face against Shane’s neck, a wrenching moan like a sob as fresh tears wash over Shane’s skin. Ilya kisses his throat, licks the skin there. Shane’s arms wind around him, massaging his back, urging him on. “That’s it, just a little more. Wanna feel it. Wanna keep it inside me. Wanna keep you forever.”
A wave of heat washes over Ilya, and he doesn’t know what is emotion and what is physical anymore as he buries himself inside, spilling hot and wet as deep as he can. He comes down slowly, with Shane petting his hair.
Ilya sits up, pulling out to see Shane wince as the evidence spills from him onto the sheets.
“Did you like it?” Ilya asks quietly, hearing the desperate need in his own voice.
“I loved it.” Shane rubs Ilya’s arms. His cock is still hard and red against his stomach. “Love you—“
It’s still painful, to hear it. Like a wound Shane insists on reopening. Ilya moans, leaning down as wetness fills his mouth instead, and takes Shane inside to suck.
good morning to ilya rozanov, who pulled off his best Oh No So Sleepy Still face to get out of a morning run so he can instead sneak a beautiful breakfast cigarette on the balcony, his heart doing that thunk thunk thunk thing as he watches shane and anya jog back up to the house against the rising sun, anya’s tail wagging and shane looking gorgeous in his little jocky jogging outfit while he smiles up at ilya through panting breaths.
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good evening to ilya rozanov who’s just gotten his husband higher than god and promptly misplaced him in their own home, only to shuffle into the kitchen and find shane with both hands gripped around the brita, all ten fingers spread wide, his head tipped back and mouth slugging straight from the pour spout, effectively soaking the front of his comfy shirt
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