i know, most people do

and, well, obviously shane is proven a Liar and ilyas sooo disappointed over the phone like, "I cant believe you, I thought you were good and youve been doing this behind my back the whole time" "I wasnt gonna come," shane says, frantic and so so guilty, ilyas disappointment hitting him like a truck. "I promise i wasnt gonna come, it just hurts. I need it so much" and ilyas like "i know what you need. but youve been lying to me. how many times have you done this?" and shane, still being stupid, is like "it was just this time I promise" and ilya narrows his eyes and says "if I find out youre still lying itll be so much worse for you" and a part of shane is like, dont tell him he'll never know, but shane feels bad enough already so he confesses to the first time and ilya soooo disappointed.

they're not gonna be together for a few days still and so ilya gives shane a new rule, to message ilya everytime he thinks about touching himself, since clearly he needs something else to do. and shanes like, "everytime? seriously? what if im in the middle of game?" and ilya laughs at him "you think about touching yourself in the middle of a game? wow shane. I guess you can wait until your game is over to tell me, but you better tell me." and so for the next few days while shane's waiting to see ilya and Be Punished, he's filling their text thread with "thinking about it" "wanna touch myself so bad right now" "need it" and ilya doesnt even acknowledge these texts, even if shane asks for permission to touch, ilya just acts like he doesnt see them.

anyways, when ilya finally is set to come to montreal shane is soooo nervous. he was So Bad. hes never been this bad before, he doesn't know what to expect for a punishment and he's scared. so instead of waiting for ilya by the door, he hides. feels extra stupid doing it but now that hes sitting under the desk he feels a little safer and yeah ilya is probably going to find him eventually but its nice here in the dark. anyways cue Fear Response as he hears ilya searching for him. ilya's saying things like "you wont like what happens if I have to find you, you better come out now" but shanes doesnt come out, feels his heart beating fast in his chest.

And then suddenly… nothing. They’re happy to be back doing summer training and then with their teams getting ready for the season, but like, they’re together. They’re boyfriends. And they’re even more sexually compatible than they were before because they're letting the feelings flow. Ilya knows what it feels like to just hold Shane in his arms in bed and kiss him until their lips are sore, and to wake up to Shane's mouth on his chest and hear him ask for his cock using Ilya's first name, and then baby, baby are you awake? Want you. Shane knows every which way he likes Ilya inside of him— rough, slow, riding him until they're both exhausted, and then again later with Ilya’s full weight pressing him into the bed, and then the next day in the kitchen, on the floor (like they only used to joke about), against the bathroom sink— and now he's expected to go days without him. Days without telling Ilya he loves him with their mouths and lips and tongues touching in the moments before the words are said, and the moments after.

They talk every day. They video call and have phone sex. They say I love you, I want you, I miss you in every spoken and unspoken way they can. But it's not enough.

It starts at a pre-season game in Montreal. Shane and Ilya barely play, only going up against each other in one face-off. It's the first time they've seen each other since the Cottage and it's like, they just talked on the phone a couple hours ago, but in the month since they've seen each other they've become almost ephemeral, unreal, like it was all a dream. Like they could just drift away because whatever it is barely had enough time to become real. But then they're there, in person. Ilya is going to Shane's apartment later. They only have a few hours because Ilya has to get on a plane mid-morning.

Imagine Ilya in that face-off thinking Do you want me do you still love me was it all a dream can it even be replicated and Shane just in awe because the man across from him is his boyfriend his best friend his (secretly, in his heart, softly) his lover and someday, when they both retire and can be together, for real: his husband. They can see the future because they know they see each other in it.

Montreal wins the game. Ilya shows up at Shane's apartment, he enters the code into the front door. Shane is there, showing him where to put his shoes and talking about the game, and for a moment it seems like they'll have to relearn their rhythm, and maybe they do, they still have a lot to learn about being a we, but at the same time, they know each other. They've known each other for years.

"Come here," Shane says. "I want to kiss you."

And Ilya presses Shane into the entryway wall because yes, he wants that too, and they kiss for a long time, just finding ways to align the long lines of their bodies with each other. It builds from sweet to warm to boiling hot, cocks pressed together over their clothes, and they could come this way, easily, and yet—

"Turn around," Ilya all but growls, "Want to fuck you."

"Here?" Shane says, but he's the one with the travel size bottle of lube in his pocket, turning around and bracing his forearms against the wall while Ilya just moves the necessary clothes aside; his jeans unzipped, Shane's sweatpants waistband hooked under his juicy ass for Ilya's viewing pleasure. Shane lets Ilya discover that he's already prepped himself, is already wet and open.

"Look at you," Ilya says, slipping two fingers in easily. "Next time, let me, though? Wanna open you up—"

"Yeah," Shane gasps. He gasps and rises on his toes as Ilya sinks inside, his stomach swooping with the first sensation of this, of his favorite fucking thing in the world. They've only done it bare like this a few times, in the last days at the cottage when the desire won out. "When we have time. Next time, baby."

And it's hard and fast, their moans deep and growling, like they're claiming each other again, remembering that this is theirs for as long as they both want it, and they both want. So much, they can't possibly conceive that the other is equal in their desire. The zipper on Ilya's pants catches on Shane's skin. Ilya shoves his pants down a little more to avoid it but he also likes the imprint on Shane's skin, notches a thumb in it and digs in as he fucks in harder and faster. He flattens Shane to the wall and tells him to—

"Stay still, want you come on my cock."

And Shane whines that he wants to, puts his arms above his head of his own accord: "I wanna come just from you, keep going, fuck Ilya, do it harder, so close, been close for days—"

And Ilya smacks his ass when he realizes Shane hasn't come in days because he wanted to wait for him, that Ilya doesn't even ask for it but Shane wants it so bad, loves it so much, gives so much, and really it's a relief, because Ilya wants to crawl inside him and never leave, wants to leave his mark on every part of this man because the love inside of him might combust, but his red hot hand print on his ass will have to be enough.

"You too," Shane pants, reaching behind him to tangle his fingers in Ilya's hair. Ilya's been sucking a hickey into Shane's shoulder for what feels like an hour, rutting his hips and cock inside Shane with the singular purpose of getting off and bringing Shane off with him. "With me, come on, baby, inside me like we like it—"

And it's the we that does it. That everything they want is tangled up in each other. They want to win at hockey and they want to be the best and they want to be together, and they can barely tell it apart anymore. Everything in their future has the shadow of the other person beside them, and it's not real yet, can't be real, but Shane has a plan and then at least they can be seen together, then at least it won't be so fucking difficult.

"You?" Ilya asks, and Shane is nodding, knocking his head against the wall to let Ilya know that he's coming, working his hips back on Ilya's cock like he can get them closer and make himself fuller. More effort, more work, more payoff— that's his Shane, and Ilya peels them apart and bends Shane over so that he can rest his head against the wall, check pressed into the drywall, and watch from the side, mouth slack, as Ilya takes and takes, his grip possessive as he runs a hand through the mess on Shane's t-shirt and belly. He brings himself off with Shane's body, inside Shane's body.

They catch their breath together after, Ilya rucking up Shane's shirt to kiss the sweat off of his back. Shane eases off of him, and turns, looking at Ilya with the bright eyes that are like a drug to Ilya, his perfect substance that could never kill him in excess, only make him feel more alive.

"Again?" Shane asks, breathless but far from satisfied, far from tired. It's only the pre-season, after all, and they barely played.

Ilya grips Shane's thighs, fingers brushing where his come is already leaking out, and with a little jump from Shane, successfully lifts him up.

"Kiss me and I'll think about it," Ilya says.

post-workout one day shane goes into the living room and is taken aback by something he sees. it's a bucket of water and ilya's taking off his sweaty socks and underwear and throwing them in it. shane's so confused but he doesn't really say anything—its not like either of them do laundry regularly or anything, so who knows what that's about. maybe some sort of pre treatment?

he almost forgets about it. but a little bit later, ilya's calling shane over and putting him on his knees besides the bucket, empty now of the clothes and with just dirty water in it now. and he asks shane, "do you want to come, baby?"

and yeah. of course shane does. he hasn't been allowed to come in days at this point and he's getting desperate. so he nods. says a very pretty, “yes sir.”

and ilya grins, says, "you want a chance to earn it?" and he's already taking his dick out so shane's mouth starts watering just in response even as his brain tells him there’s danger, that ilya’s about to do something. there’s the look in ilya's eyes doesn't bode well for him.

but he's not gonna say no. so he nods. says "please" bc he knows better than to forget his manners.

ilya nods over at the counter. "give that to me." its the gatorade bottle that shane had emptied out earlier today. one of those squeezy tops that means either the gatorade squirts out in a stream or you have to suck. shane was mad at ilya when he’d bought a crate of them. it had been irrational and he’d apologized and explained later when ilya had prodded. shane doesn't always like them because the taste of  feels more intense somehow, delivered like that.

shane blinks. knee walks over to the counter and brings it back.

"all this water," ilya says, still that gleeful sparkle in his eye. "your nice well water. we don't want it to go to waste, no?"

shane's stomach twists. "no. we don't want that," shane says.

"no," ilya says, smiling. "get some in that bottle, shane."

shane shudders. tries to figure out how he can do that before realizing there's just one option. he'll have to dunk in the bottle. no way he wont get any on his hand.

his stomach twists as he does as he's told. cringing a bit as the dirty water fills the bottle.

he holds it up when he does. "it's done," he says, voice shaking.

ilya nods. then, a pause. "jesus christ, shane. do i have to tell you everything? drink it. we're not letting this go to waste."

shane closes his eyes. his hands are shaking when he brings the bottle to his mouth.

he wraps his lips around the tip of the bottle and tries to brace himself, closing his eyes and reminding himself that it was almost half a bucket of water and ilya doesn't even sweat all that much—(a lie. ilya sweats a lot).

"sweetheart," says, hand on shane's wrist to tug the bottle away and out of his mouth. relief fills shane's body in a rush. he wont have to drink it. ilya was just fucking with him.

he likes doing that. fucking with shane mentally just as much as physically. it gets both of them hard

"you don't want to drink it?" ilya asks, petting his head.

shane shakes his head, still staring at the bottle and the murky water.

"why not? what are you afraid of?"

shane pauses. dares to blink up at ilya's face and—all of a sudden, he's scared. he's so scared. that look is still on ilya's face.

"it’s—" dirty would be the wrong word to use. he can hear ilya's response already: but those are just my clothes. you think i'm dirty?

"it's gonna taste bad," shane lands on, eventually.

ilya makes a cooing noise. his cock is still out, mostly soft. he's turned on but he's not hard. that can't mean anything but trouble for shane.

"oh, it will taste bad?" ilya asks, "probably just a little, right? but i know my shane. my poor shane, so sensitive to even little tastes, yes?"

he grabs a handful of shane's hair. nods his head for him.

"i’ll help with it, because i love you very much,” ilya says. “hmm…let’s see…maybe i can add something that'll help with the taste. would you like that?"

shane can feel his eyes starting to prick. he usually doesn't cry this early.

ilya doesn't wait for a response. "you like how my piss tastes, no?" ilya asks.

like isn't the word shane would use.

he swallows.

"no?" ilya asks, tilting his head like he's confused. "but you said you did last week. you said you liked being my little urinal."

and shane did. in a desperate bid to get ilya to stop squeezing his balls.

'but you're my stress ball right now. don't you want to be my stress ball? do you like being other things better?'

'yes, yes, yes please, i like being other things better, sir. please, oh my god'

'like what kind of things?'

and shane had said so much. he can't even remember it all. he'd called himself a fleshlight. footstool. ashtray. urinal.

"i did, sir," shane says.

"then that's settled. you like how my piss tastes."

shane nods. yes. it is settled. it was settled since ilya first said the words like they were a statement of fact.

"and you are afraid of how this water will taste," ilya says.

shane did say that, didn't he?

"yes, sir," he says.

"so how can i make this water taste good for you, shane?" ilya asks, words delivered with extra gentleness.

shane closes his eyes. blinks them open. "you can piss in it," he says. and then, because he does know better, corrects himself. "can you please piss in the water, please, sir?"

ilya grins. all teeth. "of course, baby. i am happy to help."

****

it takes the entire day, but shane finishes all of the water.

sometimes it's really obvious. ilya invents some totally impossible and arbitrary task for shane because he loves watching how hard he'll try for him even knowing that he's going to fail, and he's going to get punished, and there's nothing he can do. and shane loves it because it reminds him he's not allowed to be perfect here, he's not in control, he doesn't have to do everything right because he can't do everything right because ilya won't let him, but there's still going to be pain and then comfort, predictable and safe, and all he has to do is accept it

I kinda see this going two ways and both end up influencing the trajectory of their relation.

So there’s Ilya working Shane open on his hand and it’s going very slow. Ilya’s trying his best to do it right, and he knows he’s big and if Shane stays so tight it is not going to work. He tries to get him to relax, brushes his hand at the back of Shane’s neck, voice low and steady talking him through it. Then when he pushes in, it just doesn’t give, and it’s Ilya’s instinct to retreat and call it a day, get each other off like they’re used to. Except!!! Shane’s vision kinda goes white at the intrusion and it hurts but he wants more and his mind focuses only on this one thing. He whines and moans and Ilya’s already pulled back saying we don’t have to, we can try next time. And Shane is desperate to chase that feeling, wants to feel it again, for hours. He says, quietly please please it feels so good.

And they’re both so stressed because they’ve been waiting for this and Ilya wants this to be good for Shane and his brain is kind of stuck in a loop of hurtshane-makeshanefeelgood where he wasn’t anticipating a scenario in which those things are not mutually exclusive.

If Ilya pulled away and said he can’t do it or that they shouldn’t do it like that his first time, imagine what that would do to poor Shane’s brain. Not only is he gay, which if the fact ever saw the light of day his entire career would be in ruin. And now it turns out that he’s also some freak of nature who gets off on his sexual partners hurting him. And he had trusted Ilya with so much of himself that no one else gets to see already, and in the end Ilya, too, rejected him. He’d make Ilya leave shortly after that, and he’d spend the night glaring at the ceiling and beating himself up, vowing to himself to never put himself in a situation like that again. And Ilya tries to reach out to him, asking if he’s okay, if he wants to hook up again, maybe if he just wants to talk but Shane is so so deep in that well that he ends up blocking Ilya’s number.

But then if Ilya went through with it, goaded by Shane’s come on come on it’s just like slamming me into the boards I’m gonna like it it’s part of the game and Shane is so tight and so hot and the sounds he is making are on the verge of agony and ecstasy but Shane’s pushing back into him and a thought settles in Ilya’s head this is how he wants it, give him anything he asks for and his thrusts are getting rougher and Shane is getting louder until Ilya tightens his grip on his ass and slams forward, nailing Shane’s prostate with full force and then Shane is coming, a litany of fuckfuckfuck and moans and after a beat of silence a quiet whispered thank you. And they don’t really talk about it (not until years later anyway), but some unspoken agreement is made, some sort of thread is formed that pulls them back towards each other like magnets, pathetically and helplessly and there’s no one else for them after that.

“What the fuck shane” and he’s maybe a little hard, and Shane is like “I mean it’s really hot. I like it. I just think you’d suck at pulling out” and he’s got a little smirk and Ilya is like woooow. Turns into bickering which turns into play fighting which turns into dry humping- which turns into Shane on his back with his legs slung over Ilya’s hips, Ilya pushing into him bare and slick with lube.

Once he’s all the way inside, mouth panting against Shane’s, Shane stroking his hand through his hair he’s like “make sure you pull out okay?” And Ilya pulls back to catch Shane’s eye and that little gleam he gets in it and oh game on. Ilya is like “of course baby, don’t wanna get you pregnant, metros stand no chance without next season if you’re knocked up” and Shane’s mouth drops open and his cock throbs between them and he lets out a tiny choked sound and oh. Ilya will be investigating that more later.

But it Shane so it’s game on and he swallows and he says “mm only if you can’t control yourself big boy” and Ilya hates how much that turns him on- and then they’re fucking and Shane is squirmy and loud under him, hands all over Ilya’s chest and neck and face and down his back and gripping at his ass and Ilya loooves that he can fuck him like this now, on his back and glued close and not hiding anything between them anymore. Ilyas getting close and his brain is swimming because he won’t prove Shane right- he won’t but fuck it feels so fucking good and Shane is so tight and wet and perfect around him and his cock looks so pretty throbbing and jolting with Ilya’s thrusts and he loves the way Shane shakes around him after he’s cum and Ilya keeps fucking him through it till he fills him and he wants that and he- he can’t he’s going to be good.

And then shane is kissing him, pulling at his hair, scratching at his scalp and saying “m close” Ilya all low and soft and fuck Ilya loves him and only Ilya gets him like this and they both need this so badly- it’s the whole universe, how good this feels. And Ilya needs Shane to feel good, he’s nodding, kissing Shane back the best he can as he fucks him, harder, deeper, presses his legs apart further the leverage down and in the way Shane loves and Shane is whining, throwing his head back and mumbling “Ilya Ilya” and Ilya might die, like this, he thinks one day because it’s too good. It’s already heaven.

“Let go sweetheart” Ilya is mumbling and shane is nodding and he’s slurring out “don’t cum, don’t cum inside remember, you can’ get me preg-” and Ilya is fucking him harder then, Shane’s words stuttering off and he cums, back bowed and all over his stomach and chest and he’s so fucking tight round Ilya and Ilya is so fucking close. So close. He needs to cum- but he needs to cum inside Shane.

He’s never once had an issue with pulling out, happy to cover tits or face or ass in his cum instead, but Shane is all dazed and shivery and post orgasm gorgeous on his cock and his hands are grabbing soft and open at Ilya’s back and neck, holding him close and Shane loves being full, Ilya knows this, Ilya loves filling him, he stays inside Shane after sex for as long as he can most times and it’s not right it’s not what he wants, to pull out of the warm secure home of Shane’s body, where he belongs, where Shane takes him like it’s devotion. Ilya is shivering, his shoulder wracking as he fucks Shane and his pace is slowed and he tries to force his hips to stay on the out stroke. To pull back- but he can’t, he can’t stop driving in, helpless little fucks of his good because this feels to good, being Shane’s, connected to him, fucking him open, fitting him on him he can’t make himself stop.

Ilya frowns and looks up at Shane and Shane is head back, mouth parted, soft smile as he takes Ilya’s thrusts, his hand on Ilya’s cheek now, thumb rubbing and Shane mumbles after a big content sigh “fuck baby I love your cock” and then Ilya is whining, low and driving into Shane, all the way, sinking his cock so deep it must hurt a bit for Shane, till he has no more space to go and he cums so hard his thigh and lower stomach cramp with it, Shaking as he ruts and pushes up up up into Shane, filling him.

A long time coming for this request pun not intended

explicit • shane/ilya • 5.5k • tags: extremely dubious consent, trans shane, doctor ilya, medical malpractice, overstimulation, forced orgasm, humiliation, watersports

Dr. Rozanov rolls forward on his stool, leans in, and hooks a finger under the seam of Shane's binder so it snaps back against his skin. "This will have to come off too." "Um," Shane says, eyes darting between his chest and Dr. Rozanov’s hand. He never had to take it off with his old doctor. In fact, he’s pretty sure he's never taken his binder off in front of anyone since he started wearing them. But Dr. Rozanov’s practice does specialize in trans healthcare, so probably this is standard practice when a doctor actually knows their stuff.