wow... generic

Ilya hasn’t been without Shane for this long since they moved in together in Ottawa. Long ago, a week would be child’s play to them. Hell, even in the commuting days, Ilya would have gladly taken a week. Now Ilya is spoiled, addicted, unmoored without his husband to hold. The cottage is empty, echoey, barren without his moans and laughs and chirps. He knows better than to sulk, so he does his best to keep busy, playing with and walking Anya, kayaking or swimming, jogging, running drills on their practice rink, playing video games, anything to keep his mind off of how desperately he misses his beautiful, stable rock.

“One more day, babe. I promise, I will be sprinting into your arms.”

“We will need a bullet train to our bed if you want me to wait more than five minutes before getting my mouth on you without putting on a show,” Ilya says, his head lulling against the back of couch.

“You can wait two hours.”

“Alone in a car with you? The hell I can.”

“Parents will also be there.”

“No they will not. I will pay for Uber.”

“You’re insatiable,” Shane laughs into his phone, and he sounds all soft and sleepy. It makes Ilya’s dick jump in his sweats.

“Let me see you.”

“No, Ilya. As soon as that screen turns on, I know you’re going to be jacking off, and my parents are very much still awake.”

Ilya scoffs, affronted. “Shane Hollander. You think so little of me.”

“Oh, I think a lot of you, Rozanov,” Shane purrs, his voice shifting deeper and more sensual, and goosebumps erupt over Ilya’s skin. “There’s a lot of you to think of, isn’t there?”

Ilya blows out a long stream of air through his lips. “Not fucking fair. You just said.”

“I know,” Shane says, and Ilya hears the smirk in his voice. “I just like to fuck with you.”

Ilya grinds his teeth and drags his hand down the length of his very hard cock. “Turn on the fucking camera and I’ll show you just how I like to fuck with you.”

“Nice try, baby. I’ll see you tomorrow night, okay?”

“You are the devil.”

“You think that now, wait until you see how naughty I’m going to be for you when we’re home,” Shane says silkily. “Goodnight, Ilya.”

He knows Ilya too well by now. He hangs up before Ilya can argue, try to curry favor with Shane’s cock tonight. Ilya groans and resigns himself to his own hand, picturing exactly what he wants Shane to do to him tomorrow night.

—

Ilya caves, giving Shane’s parents a ride to their own cottage, but he doesn’t budge on having Shane in the passenger seat. They don’t argue, both willing to doze off in the back after a grueling week. Ilya’s hand doesn’t let go of Shane’s the entire drive. They both hug and kiss Yuna and David as Ilya drops them off. The closer they get to their own cottage, the harder Ilya squeezes his hand. He eventually takes their clasped hands and begins to grind them against Shane’s cock as he drives.

“Ilya…” Shane sighs, but it’s not bold enough to prompt him to stop. Shane’s head falls back against the head rest, scooting his hips out slightly to ease the angle. “Fuck, I fucking missed you.”

“You have no fucking idea,” Ilya says, voice edging into a growl as he grinds harder.

The SUV screeches to a halt in front of the cottage, and they’re out the door. Ilya is vacuum sealed to Shane’s back as he futzes with his keys, unlocking the door and tumbling inside, Anya barking and nipping at their heels. Shane gives her the quickest greeting possible and Ilya kisses her on the head and instructs her to sit and stay. They trip over each other into the bedroom, stripping clothes off as they go, both entirely naked by the time they slam the door shut and reach the bed.

“Fuck me,” Shane moans into his mouth, already stroking Ilya’s cock, and he feels like he could come just from this if he kept pulling at him for more than thirty seconds. “I need that big cock so bad, baby. Need it pounding inside me, please,” he begs, growing more desperate as seconds pass.

“I’ll give it to you, filthy boy. Gonna give it to you so fucking hard you can’t breath for it, huh? Fuck you up to your fucking stomach. Up to your fucking throat. Christ, I missed you,” he rumbles, already working slick fingers into him carelessly, messily, opening him up as quickly as possible. Ilya’s cock is pulsing on its own, and it feels precarious at best. If he had a single ounce of patience, he would dig out a cock ring, but he cannot bring himself to give a fuck. The only thing he wants on his dick is Shane. No toys, no condoms, just Shane’s hole gripping around him like a fist until he spills inside.

“Put it in, put it in, fuck,” Shane groans, boosting his ass into the air for him.

“Fuck, fuck, okay,” Ilya says, pulling his fingers free and lining up his cock. He shoves the tip inside, and he feels his stomach clench with how overwhelming the sensation is to have his husband wrapped around him again.

Shane whines, wriggling back onto him, forcing him deeper already, and Ilya is holding his breath as he makes small thrusts to sink inside him.

“Fuck, Shane, don’t-”

“Come the fuck on, baby,” Shane growls, and throws himself back onto his cock in one swift move, taking Ilya down to the base. All at once, the friction on his cock is too much, and he feels his stomach clench again and his balls pulsating, and Ilya gasps, digging his nails into Shane’s hips. He fully whimpers as the unthinkable happens.

His forehead drops between Shane’s shoulder blades, quiet as a church mouse as he reconciles what just transpired.

“Did…did you just…?”

“Shut up.”

“Oh my god,” Shane says quietly.

“It has been long time, okay!”

“No, it’s okay, it’s okay!” Shane assures, reaching back and grabbing Ilya’s hand. “It happens. Not a big deal.”

“Fuck,” Ilya groans, collapsing against Shane’s back and forcing him down onto his stomach. “I’m staying inside until I’m hard again.”

Shane cranes his head around, raising an eyebrow. “You’re gonna make me wait until you’re ready again? I don’t think so, baby.”

Ilya moans in embarrassment, kissing Shane’s neck to distract himself.

“Come on, quick shot,” Shane jabs lightheartedly. “I bet if you let me fuck your mouth you’ll be good as new. What do you think?”

In all their years exploring each other, it just never came up.

Years might be a stretch. More like snapshots of time, stolen greedily by hungry hands and mouths. Their hookups were always intense, sure, but time constraints didn’t exactly allow for much deviation.

They both knew what they liked- Ilya liked to fuck, Shane liked to get fucked. There was variation here and there, a pair of ill advised fuzzy handcuffs, some spanking and dirty talk and all those filthy little things. It just never really occurred to Ilya to switch up the formula too much.

But now?

Now they have time. Ilya is in Ottawa. Shane is in Montreal. Each meeting is still too brief, but longer than they’ve ever been used to.

It’s abrupt, the moment he chooses to bring it up. Post-orgasm haze, all sweat and heaving breath. He’s collapsed, full weight, onto Shane’s chest.

Open mouthed, lidded eyes, so disgustingly in love he thinks he might throw up. How this impossible thing is his- he can’t begin to fathom.

‘Shane.’

‘Yeah?’ Shane is just as breathless, still coming out of that fuzzy space he enters when Ilya fucks him hard and deep and fast.

‘I want you to finger me.’ Ilya says, matter of fact and with no hint of trepidation. Just hard earned confidence and ease.

‘You do?’

‘Yes. Would be hot.’

‘Have you ever-’

‘Not with anyone, no.’

There’s a momentary pause and Ilya can hear the gears turning in his boyfriend’s head, and the beginning of a thought spiral. He grabs Shane’s pec and gives it a squeeze- a playful, grounding gesture.

‘I have done it by myself. Was not very good, but I figure it would be different. With you.’ Ilya looks him in the eyes, then. Full of adoration so plain it’s etched across every line and divot in his face.

Shane is quiet, still processing- so Ilya continues.

‘Plus it seems so good for you. Always begging for it, uh?’ He grins, wolfish.

Shane’s hesitance is extremely short lived. He can’t help but smile, the statement too true to even teasingly refute.

Of course it would be different- it would be fucking hot. Insane, actually. Shane needs it immediately- needs to see Ilya experience that feeling.

The next night, they fall into bed and inevitably start making out, the hunger growing into something too big to contain.

Clothes fly off, and there’s a competition over who can get them in the laundry hamper across the room. It soon gets forgotten when every item is off and Shane is naked between Ilya’s strong, hairy thighs.

‘You still want this?’ Shane breathes into Ilya’s skin, inhaling the scent of him and getting dizzy on it.

Ilya bites his lip and nods, the corner of his mouth twitching up in a fond smile.

That smile is replaced by surprise as Shane’s large hands grope the underside of Ilya’s thighs and force them as far as they go towards his chest.

Ilya is nowhere near as flexible as Shane, so the stretch is a struggle, but nothing he can’t manage.

‘Oh..’ a choked gasp punches its way out of Ilya’s lungs as Shane licks a filthy, wet stripe over his hole.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting this to feel like, but he didn’t expect it to feel so… exposing. So intimate, and raw, and so fucking good. Is this what Shane felt every time?

Jesus.

Shane continues, fingers splayed and digging into Ilya’s flesh hard enough to bruise. Good- Ilya wants to remember this.

Torturous minutes pass as Shane works his tongue inside, and Ilya’s already panting.

‘So good for me, malchik, fuck..’

Shane pulls back a moment.

‘You like it?’ and fuck- he’s so earnest in his desire to know that he’s pleasing Ilya.

‘Fuck, yes. Your mouth, Moyà Lyubov…’

Shane re-centres himself and spits on Ilya’s hole and watches how it responds, transfixed and so fucking hard he can feel his pulse in his cock.

Ilya is just as hard, dick throbbing and jerking against his stomach untouched at the feeling of Shane’s saliva running down onto the bed, filthy and ruinous.

Shane reaches for the lube, thrown haphazardly on the side of the mattress, and squeezes a generous amount between his fingers.

‘Ready?’ He murmurs, lust bitten and eyes dark.

‘Yes, fuck. Want to feel you.’

Fingers begin circling the tightness, unyielding and showing the first sign that Ilya’s a little more nervous than he’s letting on.

‘Relax, Ilya, it’s okay.’ Shane comforts him, delicately brushing the pad of his finger over the muscle.

Ilya breathes in. Relaxes. His cock twitching and dribbling precum onto his happy trail. He may be going out of his mind.

The tip of Shane’s finger breaches, and Ilya freezes.

This feels really fucking weird. Intrusive and a little uncomfortable, and-

Oh.

Oh fuck.

There it is.

Shane presses his finger in all the way, curling it to nudge against Ilya’s prostate as he peppers gentle, barely-there kisses over the weeping head of Ilya’s cock.

Ilya’s skin is already vibrating. A deep, rumbling pleasure spreads from his gut, overtakes every limb in a warm flush that has him feeling electrified. Like the next touch might kill him.

‘Oh my god, Shane, fuck’ he rasps out.

And then he does something Shane has never experienced before, in all the years they’ve been fucking.

Ilya whimpers. High in his throat, like it was so involuntary he couldn’t stop it escaping.

His skin is flushed a deep red, and when Shane adds a second finger, he has to close his eyes so he doesn’t cum immediately.

God, Shane’s hands… his fingers are thick, and long, and so perfect. They’re so fucking deep inside him that Ilya feels like they’re in his fucking stomach.

This shouldn’t feel this revelatory, but Shane is rapidly melting Ilya into sweating mess. He looks utterly debauched- curls wild and matted to his forehead, chest rising and falling rapidly, legs and abs straining with the effort not to cum.

‘Fuck you’re so tight, so fucking hot, you’re so fucking hot Ilya, love you so much.’ Shane rambles, pressing praises into Ilya’s skin with his lips.

Before he can even prepare, Shane takes Ilya’s cock in his mouth and all the way down his throat and fucking his fingers in and out of Ilya’s clenching hole in one movement.

Ilya nearly cries.

It’s so intense. The wet, suctioning heat of Shane’s perfect throat constricting his cock, the pads of Shane’s fingers brushing so deep inside him.

‘Fuck, fuck, Shane-‘ Ilya gasps, trying to warn his loving boyfriend, ‘-m’going to cum, you’re going to make me cum down your fucking throat, fuck’

A few more strokes and Ilya’s entire body is seizing up and he’s cumming in hot spurts over Shane’s tongue and gripping his fingers like a vice. The ecstasy almost tangible, like something he could reach out and grab, racks through his whole body like he’s been hit by a truck.

It’s so much longer than his usual orgasms, and by the time it subsides, Ilya’s vision has blacked out and Shane is cradling him in his arms. He doesn’t even remember Shane pulling out or coming back up to comfort him.

‘You okay?’ Shane asks into the shell of Ilya’s ear and kisses all over his face.

‘Mmf.’

Ilya’s eyes are closed and he’s trying his best to regulate his breathing and get all of his systems back online.

The first system is ‘being a little shit’.

‘Was ok. Your technique is clumsy.’ He grins, knowing full well that Shane knows he’s bullshitting. There’s no faking that much cum.

‘I guess you’ll have to teach me.’ Shane smiles dopily like a cartoon frog, all sweet and saccharine.

‘Mm. Yes, many many lessons for you to learn.’ Ilya jokes, before turning a little serious. ‘It was fucking crazy. Cant believe we did not do it before.’

‘Me too. But we’ve got time, now, right?’

‘Yes, time to work through your extensive list of sex things you want.’

‘I don’t have a list’

‘No? You don’t want me to sit on a cake for you? Tickle your balls with feathers?’

‘Oh fuck off.’ Shane smiles.

‘I love you too.’