it's @treblerose689's birthday! here's a smutty lil minific written with some of her favourite things in mind: begging + degradation + desperation + coming from dry humping 🙂↕️ enjoy!!
“Fuck, I need you inside me, like, yesterday.”
Ilya gives a short, breathless laugh into Shane’s neck, biting his bare shoulder. “Wow, wow. So desperate for it, you can’t even wait to give me proper hello.”
“This is your hello, asshole,” Shane grits out, his hands pawing at Ilya’s clothes, as clumsy and greedy as Ilya feels. They’ve barely made it two steps inside their home, Ilya’s bag dropped carelessly at their feet.
“No ‘welcome home, my wonderful husband’,” Ilya pants, squeezing one of Shane’s pecs. “No ‘how was your trip, love of my life, tell me everything’...”
“Later,” Shane hisses, with a sinful roll of his hips. Ilya growls, crowding him back into the wall of their entranceway, and Shane draws him into his rhythm so they’re grinding like teenagers.
Ilya’s so fucking hard. He’s been hard since the goddamn taxi from the airport, since Shane started texting him all Really missed your dick and I need to be filled so bad, in that matter-of-fact way of his.
“Baby, please,” Shane moans, tipping his head back, eyes gone soft and glistening as his long lashes flutter, pretty pink lips hanging open all swollen and wet. It’s unfair, really.
“Yes, yes,” Ilya manages, nodding jerkily. “I know. You need this cock. I will fuck you like you deserve, lyubimyy.”
A bead of sweat trickles down the nape of his neck, beneath his jacket and t-shirt. Something about being fully clothed with Shane in only his favourite worn-soft grey sweatpants drives him out of his mind. Shane’s cock twitches against Ilya’s hip through the thin material, and Ilya knows he’s wearing nothing underneath. Beautiful, eager little slut.
Ilya’s stomach tightens, balls tingling, electricity thrumming through him. Shit, he’s in trouble. He should pull back. Take a breath. But he just—can’t find the strength to tear away.
They kiss messy and open-mouthed, smearing spit over his lips and chin, and Ilya’s hips thrust clumsily with a mind of their own. He moans at the filthy friction of it, at the solid warmth of Shane’s body under his. He’s missed it. He needs it.
He shoves his hands down the back of Shane’s sweats, hauling him closer and shamelessly groping his ass.
“Fuck, yeah, yeah, please,” Shane moans, clinging to Ilya’s shoulders and trying to wrap a leg around him. “C’mon, baby. Fuck me.”
Ilya’s eyes squeeze shut as his cock kicks, pulsing a hot spill of pre-come into his boxers. He can’t stop grinding forward, chasing that too-much-not-enough, Shane squirming and whining as they pant into each others’ mouths. Ilya grips his ass tight enough to bruise, shakes his cheeks a little to feel them jiggle, then parts them.
His fingertips brush Shane’s hole, and oh, fuck. It’s soft and open and so fucking wet, and it yields so sweetly under his touch—
“I got ready—” Shane gasps, and that’s it.
The orgasm slams through him, stealing his breath and leaving him humping forward gracelessly, driving Shane into the wall with the force of it. He buries his flushed-red face into Shane’s hair, moaning when the familiar scent of his shampoo sends another violent pulse through his body. It feels endless, spilling and spilling into his pants, the filthy-wet slide of his boxers over his sensitive cock only drawing it out as he mindlessly ruts against Shane.
“Oh my god,” Ilya groans weakly.
“Oh my god,” Shane echoes in disbelief, but he holds him close as he quivers through it, shoving his knee up for Ilya to ride it out. His big hands sweep soothingly over his back.
Ilya swallows when the aftershocks fade out and a quiet pause settles between them. It’s Shane who pushes him back, forcing him to meet Shane’s eyes. There’s an apology on his lips, but Shane kisses it away, cupping his face with both hands and laughing sweetly into it.
“You laugh at me,” Ilya complains, but he’s smiling too, dazed and stupid and lovedrunk.
“No.” Shane shakes his head, rubbing the tips of their noses together. Ilya winces a little as his oversensitive dick twitches at that. Fuck, he really is in love. “You’re so fucking sexy.”
Ilya smiles wider, chest puffing up, and pulls Shane into a deep kiss. Shane sighs into it, languidly sliding his tongue along Ilya’s, before he pushes at Ilya’s chest again.
“So, wait… which one of us were you calling desperate?”
if you liked this, check out my HR fics on ao3!
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