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bood: troy do you want another beer
troy: ehhh ive already had two and im designated shanehandler
ilya: (wasted, at the top of his lungs across the entire yard, feeling shane up while he grills) I AM EXCLUSIVE HANDLER OF SHANE
#Shane: I bet I could climb on bood’s roof with just his siding#Ilya: baby. As the Shanehandler. You can do whatever you want.#Cut to Troy peeling Shane off the side of Bood’s house like he’s a squirrel
ilya recording it on his phone and narrating loudly as if he is watching the cops doing an illegal arrest with excessive force
ilya: THIS MAN DID NOTHING... BUT NOT THE FIRST TO SUFFER AT THE HANDS OF ENFORCER BARRETT. THIS POOR BEAUTIFUL CREATURE IS TESTING PHYSICAL LIMITS, REACHING NEW PERSPECTIVES, YES? HARMING NO ONE. UNARMED- *accidentally drops phone and takes so long to pick it up shane is already walking past trying to act sober like he never did anything at all*
shane: (directly into the camera, much too close) babyyyyyyy i made burgers
Have we considered Ilya but slightly too big to be comfortable in a plane seat (this is also a real question because I can’t remember if someone has posted something about this already)
Noo I don’t think so…! ryeoats’s incredible Shane fic Honey Soaked included some talk about plane seats, though— the scene where Yuna asked Ilya if he thought Shane would fit on a plane was so simple and so fucking hot. (is ao3 user ryeoats on here? we need them)
As for Ilya…
It helps that they don’t fly economy, but fitting is one thing and being comfortable is another. They’ll fly first class when airlines have it, but they’re almost always in business on domestic flights, and the seatbelt extender helps but side to side it’s just a little bit snug—he’s gotten particularly wide, broad in the chest and in the waist, travel clothes with a few X’s before the L, shirts tight on his biceps and the belly commandeering his lap, and the static armrests are a nuisance he never imagined. Hockey has him used to contending with perpetually sore hips and shoulders; the biggest pain is not having much room to fidget, barely any room in the narrow aisle to get up and stretch his legs. The light at the end of the tunnel is the deep tissue massage from Shane when they finally get to their destination. “Do it with your elbow,” he says as Shane sits atop him on the hotel bed, digging his big hands inches into Ilya’s back, getting at the muscle through the fat, beating his fascia to a pulp, “Yes, yesyes— just hit me there. Go. Hit me.”
He’s taken the window seat and Shane the aisle, their arms overlapping on the middle armrests. He’s charming the flight attendants, chatting with them and calling them by their names, and ordering Shane all the ginger ale he wants, and being Shane’s comfy pillow while Shane naps intermittently on his shoulder. Many fond stories about ‘the cute gay couple’ and ‘the big guy with the accent and his little husband’ (he wasn’t actually that little, the big guy with the accent was just notably big)
The armrests are cutting into his sides and his ass feels like it’s being mechanically flattened but Shane can get up to piss as many times as he wants, and he’s got in-flight Wi-Fi and a bountiful supply of tiny pretzels, and the promise of his husband rubbing arnica gel on whatever bruises he comes out of this with. It’s worth it, but the airlines should really stop making everything so small.
(And yes it makes Shane horribly turned on whenever they get some kind of real world confirmation contrast of Ilya’s size, and then Ilya gets turned on by the fact that Shane is turned on, and maybe also by the idea that he’s the fat tiger king of the mountain that is the airplane, and it’s a vicious cycle that keeps going around and around)
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oooh here's another fun wg/exhibition kink crossover (it's a hell of a drug), it's at the all stars game in the boyfriends-but-not-out-yet era and shane and ilya have been playing around a bit already with the dom/sub fun of letting ilya control shane's diet and shane has put on a little weight, not really enough to be noticeable unless you're really looking, but that only makes the whole thing feel even more like a fun, illicit secret.
anyway, at all stars a bunch of the players are out at a restaurant, loud and raucous on a long table, and shane and ilya aren't sat that close together, and ilya surreptitiously texts shane with what he should order, and he does, and he eats it all even though it feels like a lot, and he's pleasantly full and flushed by the end (also thanks to the fact ilya told him to have two beers across the course of the meal). but when the server's coming to take all the empty plates, shane's phone buzzes.
same again
and he feels SO hot and flustered, like it's one thing to be eating when everyone else is but this is going to be SO humiliating to have to order a whole extra main when everyone else is finished, and he's so sure he's not going to do it, except ilya is giving him this really intense stare, and when the waiter comes to take his plate Shane finds himself saying, "um, could i get another burger and fries with a side of wings and mac and cheese, please?"
and he hoped he was being subtle about it but it feels like the whole table has gone dead quiet and then carter vaughn wolf whistles and says "damn, hollander, seems like someone's hungry," and shane's going SO red but luckily someone else chirps about how he'll need the energy so their team can annihilate the other team tomorrow, and everyone gets chattering again, and shane's just sitting quiet and squirming a little as ilya keeps shooting him pointed looks.
and think about how when the food arrives there's literally nowhere to hide, like everyone is pretty much just watching shane eat, and he's trying to get it over with as quickly as he can but it's hard when about halfway through the plate he has to slow down because he's so, so full, and wyatt hayes is like "hey, bud, you don't have to eat all that you know," because shane is looking like he's really struggling, and shane hiccups and says "no, no, i want to, i really am still hungry" which is such an obvious lie when his belly is starting to strain against his shirt, round and obviously full to bursting, but he's got this determined look on his face that most of the guys recognise from when he beat ilya in the speed skating skills competition earlier in the day, so they sort of leave him to it, but they can't stop casting little surprised sideways glances as he manages to swallow the final bites and collapses back in his chair, barely stifling a little groan, and one hand goes to cradle his swollen tummy but then quickly drops back to his lap like he's embarrassed, and at this point ilya is staring at him so hard people are at risk of noticing something but he just can't tear his eyes away from how completely stuffed shane looks and the fact he did all that just for ilya even though it meant enduring the gentle teasing of all the others commenting on shane's big appetite and how he surely can't have dessert because he looks like he'll explode if he has one more bite.
and oooohh boy you know they are fucking NASTY in the hotel room that night once shane's actually able to get up from his seat, and ilya's absolutely showering him with the heady mixture of praise and teasing shane loves best ("such a good boy, eating so well for me, letting everyone else see just how greedy you are"), and honestly GOOD FOR THEM
Shane and Ilya both finding themselves insanely turned on the day when Ilya actually finds himself really struggling to pick up Shane
Ughh I’m imagining Ilya with his arms wrapped under Shane’s chunky thighs and Shane with his arms around his neck and Ilya’s grunting and straining trying to lift Shane off the edge of the bed and Shane’s big belly is taking up so much space between the two of them and it’s so insanely hot for them both. Ilya’s like “fuckkk Hollander, what have you been eating??” as if he doesn’t know and hasn’t also been feeding him. Shane’s breathing hard too but just because he’s horny about the fact that he’s piled on so much weight that his big strong husband is finding it difficult to get him off the ground. Like, he’s responsible for that. He’s the one that let it get this far. He was greedy and overindulgent and allowed his appetite get the better of him, and let Ilya overfeed him to such an extent that Shane’s almost too heavy for him now wow
everyone is filling up the birthday boy today SO what if one year for Ilya's birthday after they're out & playing together, Shane rents out the VIP area of a nightclub & invites all their friends so Ilya gets to relive his favorite party boy memories and Shane doesn't have to be surrounded by random strangers. Win/win! Ilya loudly expresses dismay at the lack of cool shirts in Shane's closet but obviously has a great time dressing them both up, makes Shane change like three times until Shane eventually catches on that Ilya is just checking him out when he strips back down to his briefs. and YES they do arrive late because Shane had to suck Ilya off in his walk-in closet, but what is he supposed to do? Ilya looks good, Shane can definitely tell that the stupidly expensive tank top he's wearing is from his old clubbing days. It's snug across Ilya's chest and middle where he's gotten just a little broader, thicker over the years, and it makes his shoulders look fucking huge.
Ilya loves being the center of attention, and Shane takes a shot with him the first round someone buys, just to Participate, but he's happy to nurse his ginger ale and watch his husband have fun. it feels good to know that while he's here, Ilya can let loose and just enjoy himself.
and much fun is had! there's drinking and dancing and more drinking and Svetlana arrives with a white bakery box containing a cake that makes Ilya's eyes light up when he lifts the lid. Maybe it's just because it's a birthday, celebration is on the mind, but people keep ordering bottle of champagne, until the low tables are littered with them. Shane's talking intensely close to someone about Hockey, like he does, so he doesn't see who starts it, but then people are cheering and clapping loud enough to be heard over the pulse of the music, and when he looks back, there are several players with their heads tipped back, chugging champagne, and of course Ilya is one of them.
Shane watches his throat bob as he swallows and swallows. He finishes first, raising his bottle in triumph. He's too far away to hear but Shane watches him yell something and laugh. He leans back like an indulgent king, arm draped over the back of the sleek leather and metal sofa with the empty bottle now dangling lazily in his grip.
Before he knows what he's doing, Shane is coming to stand beside Ilya, who's all smiles even though he grunts when Shane tugs him up and off the couch and out onto the dance floor.
"My pretty husband wants to dance with me," Ilya purrs, draping his arms over Shane's shoulders, looped possessively around his neck. It's a private party so it's not too crowded. They can actually hear each other without shouting - another benefit over regular clubbing. "What a lucky day...almost like it's my birthday."
"Almost." Shane presses closer. Close enough to feel what he saw when Ilya was sprawled on the sofa like it was a throne - his belly, round and swollen, hardly compresses against Shane's abs. They're close enough that he can feel Ilya's chest move as he swallows back a sound. It doesn't really matter, because a second later, Ilya's belly jumps with a hiccup. Shane curls his hands around Ilya's sides, trying to be subtle as he rubs a thumb over the sliver of skin revealed by Ilya's tight little tanktop. It's creeping up now that his belly is rounding it out, cutting a little higher on the sides and dipping to cradle the bloat of his gut in the center. "You feel good, baby?"
Ilya is flushed pink, eyes a little hazy but he's smiling and nodding. He folds his arms tighter around Shane's neck, tugging him closer. "So good." His accent is a little thicker like this, his hold on it loosening up as he relaxes. It reminds Shane of the early days and makes him deliciously nostalgic. "I can drink any of these fuckers under the table."
"I'm sure you can." Shane tries to fit his thumb into the waistband of Ilya's jeans, but they're awfully tight. When he presses harder, Ilya lets out a bubbly burp followed by another jolting hiccup, both of which he ignores in favor of carding his fingers through Shane's hair.
"You did not let me finish," Ilya declares. He's broadly handsy, doesn't notice (or care) when he tugs a little too hard, and Shane's cock thickens in his own jeans. "With vodka? No problem. Easy. This is why-" He pauses for another hiccup, giving Shane big puppy dog eyes. "This is why they sabotage me with bubbles."
"My dad said the best hiccup cure was to drink a glass of water upside down." When Ilya's only response is to blink at him slowly, Shane flushes. "I mean, just any glass of water probably helps."
At that, Ilya's gaze sharpens, though there's still a tipsy slant to his smile. "You want me to drink more?" He arches his back, belly pressing even more firmly against Shane's. It does feel very full.
"I was just trying to help with the hiccups," Shane says. He knows Ilya can feel how hard he is; even...no, especially when he's drunk, Ilya is like a homing missle of arousal. "You'll regret it tomorrow if you don't have some water anyway."
"Hmm, yes, my husband is very helpful." Ilya clicks his tongue, moving closer. It feels incredibly obvious and intimate, they may not be in PUBLIC-public but they're still here on the dance floor among their friends. But they're not actually doing anything more shocking than any other couple moving lazily against each other. No one else knows about the flare of heat in Shane's cheeks, or that it's been equally stoked by the bulge of his husband's cock and the swell of his belly.
Just as it's getting to the edge of too much, Ilya steps back, leaving Shane grateful and miserable at the same time. He rests his hand just below his pecs, drumming against where the taut roundness arcs away from his torso with drunken faux seriousness. "Fine. Get me Taco Bell, and we will see about water."
It's a deal that makes no sense at all, but Shane is already pulling his phone out of his pocket. Anything for his birthday boy.
ask and you shall receive anon 🫶🏻 I used Hudson’s Pelaton fit as a reference, nothing better than a tight tank top cmon now 🙂↕️ ( also for some reason I can’t attach the image to the original ask? so this is the best I can do)
Your Shane art was absolutely gorgeous! Now I can’t help but think how Ilya’s tattoos (or Hudson’s if we go the RPF route) would stretch / change with getting nice and plump…
THANK U<3
Tattoos are such a weakness of mine how did you know… stretched out tats waow 😍😵💫
Ilya’s bear taking over his chest, lines all blurry, making the bear’s face slightly too wide, a little misshapen over his tits…. the same happening to the loon on his beefy arm. Can Ilya just get super tatted up tbh I would like to see it 😳
Did you know I had to physically fight myself not to add Hudson’s tattoos and earrings to that art lmaoooo maybe I’ll do a special edition 👀 imagine his little tiny hip gun all stretched out. Sex sells lookin like
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Shane is not amused when Ilya first realizes he can push Shane’s moobs together to make cleavage
Shane is aware that he’s gotten big. Too big, probably. He's aware that his stomach rounds out his torso unless he sucks it in and that there’s that stubborn bit of fat that puffs out over his waistbands even if they’re not that tight. His thighs wear through every pair of pants he has. He'd already grown himself out of size Large, how could he not know?
But it is still somehow a surprise when Ilya cups his hands around Shane’s pecs, his former pecs, and presses them together. Ilya is staring so long that Shane looks down, too, and sees what he can only describe as fucking cleavage.
Ilya’s eyes are lit up, delighted, and he’s smiling wide at Shane’s… well. He’s been trying to avoid naming them. Ilya does not share the same reservations. He says, “Holy shit, Hollander. Your tits have grown since I have last seen them.”
He squeezes indulgently, rubs his thumbs over Shane’s nipples. Shane shudders under his touch, despite himself. His voice shakes when he tries to fire back, “Fuck you, Rozanov.”
Ilya leans in to bite at Shane’s jawline, his fucking double chin. “Mm, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Maybe I should fuck these tits instead, hm?”
“Fuck off.”
“Yes, I think I will. And then I’ll get you a pretty push-up bra so you will look very nice for me.” Ilya mouths at his neck. Shane should push him away, but he doesn’t. He just takes it, Rozanov’s tongue and teeth, his words, his hands groping his tits. They make Shane’s insides squirm and his blood hot, and he should hate it. He should. Against Shane’s throat, Ilya says, “What do you think? B-cup?”
Shane does shove him back, then, towards the bed. “I’m not wearing a fucking bra for you, asshole.”
Ilya falls back onto the bed, laughing. “We will see.”
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Had a little dialogue in my notes that I expanded thanks to some inspo from this post by @rosemary-and-rue so please enjoy :)
This dialogue is also meant for a larger plot I’ve been thinking about that I hope develops into a full fic soon
—-
“God, you are so handsy this morning,” Shane mumbled, covering his full mouth as if any semblance of manners mattered with his husband.
“Yes, I have hot husband and I have hands. Perfect match,” Ilya said into Shane’s neck followed by kiss. His hands drifted underneath the hem of the old Boston shirt Shane was wearing, slowly exploring the soft expanse of his husband’s waist.
Shane leaned back into Ilya’s chest while he cut into his stack of pancakes with the side of his fork for another bite. “Can I at least finish my breakfast before you defile me?”
“You like to be defiled, but that is not what I want,” Ilya replied as he let his hands press more firmly into Shane’s stomach, massaging away the impending ache that finishing off their generous breakfast spread would cause.
“Could’ve fooled me,” Shane cut back lacking any heat behind it, too relaxed by Ilya’s touch to truly fight back.
Ilya brought one hand out to refill Shane’s ramekin of maple syrup, ensuring his husband would have enough to dip the rest of his pancakes. “I just like to see you eat well, Малыш. You know this.”
“Yeah, I know,” Shane whispered shyly, still overcome by Ilya’s directness whenever they actually discuss it. “I’m getting full though.”
Ilya hummed in agreement, gently tapping Shane’s stomach with his hand still resting below his shirt. “Mhm, I can tell, but you can finish, yes?”
Shane let out a short whine. “There is still a lot left.”
“But not too much,” Ilya said firmly, pressing more firmly as if he were proving there was more space for Shane to fill. “Be good for me.”
Those four words seemed to unlock a new wave of hunger in Shane, allowing him to clear his plate with ease as Ilya happily watched and encouraged.
As he pushed the plate away, Shane leaned back on the barstool once again to fit himself against Ilya’s chest. He waited patiently for his well earned praise, knowing Ilya would give it freely.
However, Shane was confused when Ilya brought a gentle hand up to his face and placed something on his cheek.
“What was that?” Shane asked, huffing an annoyed sigh when Ilya blocked his hand from touching it.
“Just a little prize for you. You were very good for me, Малыш,” Ilya replied lightly, placing a kiss beside the sticker resting among Shane’s freckles.
Shane’s face warmed with such a deep blush that his skin nearly matched the little red ‘Good Job!’ sticker on his cheek. He pulled Ilya’s arms back around his waist and let his head fall back onto Ilya’s shoulder.
As he relaxed into his husband’s arms, Shane ignored the tight fullness of his stomach and asked, “How can I win more prizes?”
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