we can be alone. ✨together✨

Shane is accidentally fuck drunk on the plane home with all the cens post a swing of away matches.

Like it’s not really Shane and Ilya’s fault. Not really. Ilya wakes up before Shane’s alarm, and Shane is sprawled on his tummy asleep underneath ilya, who is half laid over him, his arm around Shane’s waist and face smushed into Shane’s warm shoulder. They’d won last night and the two games before that and the heavy thrill of it was settling into Ilya’s veins, how right this year felt, how good it felt being on the same team as Shane, seeing this thing all start to work.

Anyway- blah blah blah, Ilya is kissing up over the back of Shane’s neck, his short hairline, over his ears and shoulders, lazy nuzzles of his nose because they have time. It’s just early light in the room and Shane’s alarm hasn’t gone off yet, meaning they have time. They’d fucked last night, frantic and hot against the door of the hotel, still half sweaty from rushed showers at the rink. Adrenaline thundering through the pair of them. It had been desperate and rushed, spit instead of lube and grabbing hands.

They’d showered after and curled up in bed and kissed sweet and slow and passed out hard. And now, now Ilya wants him again, needs him again, dizzy proud of Shane, dizzy happy of waking up to his pretty boy in his bed. His husband, his teammate. Fuck it makes Ilya feel crazy. Shane wakes up to the lube slick of Ilya’s fingers petting over his hole, sighing happily and rolling his hips back once, twice. “Mmm sore” Shane exhales and Ilya hums, presses his nose behind Shane’s ear, and Ilya’s fingers are soft and sweet and he’s making a sad little sound. “Sorry sweetheart” he exhales, knowing they’d been rough last night. “Let’s kiss is all better baby” Ilya had used his mouth on Shane’s dripping wet with saliva and slow, made him cum like that and then got him open on his fingers because Shane had softly whimpered and asked for “more please” then they’d snoozed Shane’s alarm a few times because then they’d both wanted Ilya’s cock inside him after that. They fucked deep, slow and heavy.

Ilya had been laid over Shane’s body, pressed skin to shin, Ilya’s neck tucked into Shane’s neck, kissing and licking and nuzzling into the soft skin. Ilya’s arms had been wrapped around Shane, one around his chest the other under his head, Shane’s face in the crook of his elbow, panting wet and hot into the skin.

His fifth thrust inside Shane had whimpered, turned his face into Ilya’s bicep and kissed at the warm skin and sighed “can still feel you from last night, feels good. Feels, like a lot, you already feel big in the morning but it’s even more” he’d whispered, soft and true and Ilya had gripped his face and licked into his mouth, kissed him hot and needy and then told him him how fucking good he felt, how good he was, his boy. And it’s so dizzy good like that, in the dark quiet early morning of the hotel room, under thick soft hotel bedding, just the pair of them whispers and heavy touches, slick messy kisses. Then Shane’s sucking Ilya’s fingers and they are moving slow, sore from the night before, the pleasure is stretched out and lazy and hot and good good good.

Shane gets fuzzy, so fucking hard and so fucking open and full of Ilya and the sheets are so soft and feel so nice under his cheek, and Ilya is holding him so tight and is so big over him and the ache of his muscles from last night feels sore and good and he just kinda softly slips into another space, that warm lightheaded fuzz that Ilya can send him into. He’s sucking on Ilya’s tongue, his fingers, nuzzling into Ilya’s face and then he’s just he only exists in the hot aching place he and Ilya connect, he needs. He needs. They come with whimpering I love yous, Ilya’s hand gripping Shane’s jaw, face with such force it makes his cheeks smush and Shane’s lashes flutter at the force of his orgasm. Shane nuzzles and kisses and mouths at Ilya’s forearm as Ilya cums all over his back, his ass.

Ilya doesn’t realise till Shane is so far gone until he reached down to ease himself out and Shane whines, whines, reaches back and grips at Ilya’s body, “stay” he exhales, and Ilya is leaning back down over him, finding Shane’s face and his palm and tilting him up to his gaze and Shane’s eyes are half lidded and cheeks red and he’s leaning in to try and find Ilya’s mouth like it’s the only thing that exists.

“Ohhh bunny” Ilya cooes, and kisses over Shane’s flushed cheeks, knocks their noses other. “You are gone yes?” Ilya asks, low voice, and Shane just turns his face further into Ilya’s, like he’s trying to burrow into his skin.

“Was goooood” Shane exhales, and his and hand goes up into Ilya’s curls, tugging and fidgeting with them. Ilya can’t help but beam, and he’s kissing all over Shane’s face, arm warm around him to keep him close.

Ilya smooths his hand down to grip at Shane’s ass, cooing a low “always good, you’re always good” and then- then Ilya’s alarm goes off which fuck. Means they have like half an hour to be downstairs ready to go- and Shane just huffs and rubs his face into Ilya’s neck and says “turn it off” and Ilya lets out a low laugh and then ten seconds later he’s pulling back- “oh fuck Ilya. We’ve gotta go” he says, wide eyed and Ilya sucks his teeth and rubs his thumb over Shane’s cheek and she’s like “da bunny, we do, I’m sorry- we got. Hm carried away” Ilya says low, kisses Shane’s nose and chin and squeezes him to his chest with a firm cuddle.

“we need to go, but is okay” Ilya reassured him and it is. Ilya gets Shane into the shower and kisses him deep till Shane’s toes curl against the tiles and then he’s slipped out to let Shane finish in the shower while quickly packs them up- gets them clothes, raids the mini bar for an apple juice. He makes Shane sip at the juice and Ilya gets them dressed, loose sweats, a hoodie of Ilya’s that’s too big for either of them pulled onto Shane, hood up over his wet hair. He’s more himself by the time they get out of the room, but it’s rushed and not how Ilya likes, he likes to kiss Shane back to being warm eyed and snarky and calling Ilya an asshole. Likes to touch and hold him close, tease him and maybe make him cum again, make him squirm like it’s too much. Then bring him back with a bath and kisses and talking.

Shane looks spacey, likes he’s come off three hard shifts on the ice, cheeks still flushed and eyes so dark and long slow blinks. Loose limbed and unsteady.

Shane sinks into Ilya’s side in the lift, yawning heavily and he’s pressing his face to Ilya’s throat and his hand is shoving into Ilya’s pocket. Ilya puts a hand up under his sweatshirt and rubs at Shane’s warm hip, lower back.

They get to the lobby just as the coach is pulling up outside to take them to the airport. The boy don’t pay them much mind, soft mutters of “cap” “hollzy” “morning” early enough for most of the team to be half asleep or hungover still.

On the short ride to the hotel Shane falls asleep curled into Ilya’s side, hood still up, his hand under Ilya’s sweatshirt, resting on the low of his stomach, pink finger tucked into the waistband of Ilya’s sweats. Fabric covered the quiet needy affection. Ilya’s hand rubs up and down Shane’s back, squeezes the back of his neck when he fusses.

It’s only once they get to the airport that the guys realise Shane is off. “Hollzy you get hit last night” Bood asks, rubs the top of his head in passing as they settle into seats by the gate. Shane shakes his head, blinks heavy and says “oh um no. Just uh feel a bit” Shane shrugs and waves his hand and Bood nods, starts talking about his sister having the flu and these immunity supplements he thinks are “bomb”. Ilya pulls Shane’s leg over his once they are sat, tugs him to rest his head on his shoulder.

Troy offers Shane like six different snacks he keeps producing from his bag. Shane’s just all slow shakes of his head and he only accepts the coffee Ilya had asked bood to get for him. Shane smiles against the cup when it’s a Mocca, chocolate sweet and heavy and comforting on his tongues. Keeps one hand in Ilyas as they sit together, heavy and all yawns. Hass and Hayes both talk about how “cute” they look, cuddled up- far more than their usual affection. It’s sweet Ilya thinks, that the boys notice the change in Shane but Ilya feels like a frustrated guard dog, protective of this soft lovely Shane that is only his. Ilya aches to kiss him, to draw love hearts with his fingertips over Shane’s hips till he gets too shiver and shoves his hands away. To feed him grapes and oranges by hand and have a far too long shower and curl up in bed together again, maybe doze a while.

When they finally get on the plane, Ilya cant help himself, pushes up the arm between the seats as soon as he can and pulls Shane into his chest. Shane doesn’t even try to protest, shoves his face into the warm skin between Ilya’s shoulder and jaw, with a weighted exhale. “Baby” Shane whispers and Ilya nods, nods, tucks a hand to Shane’s cheek, under the fabric of his hoodie and his fingers find his earlobe to rub rub at it. “I know” Ilya mutters, squeezes Shane in a warm hard hug. “I know, you did good” he praises, honest, because Shane had done good, so good getting here. Ilya rubs his cheek against the top of Shane’s head. The fabric of the hood soft.

My boy Boromir? Spent FOUR MONTHS in the wilderness! Alone! No roads! High floods! His horse died! I’m amazed he showed up to Imladris wearing clothes, let alone with a decent haircut. I’m fully convinced that he left Gondor looking like Richard Sharpe being presented to the Prince Regent in 1813

*electric guitar riff*

And then rocked up to Imladris a hundred ten days later like

A few months later

All hail the High Warden of Gondor.

I have so many thoughts on this.

Like first of all

Any government doing this should make everyone a socialist. Like people calling in sick to work is a CAPITALIST FAILING. let the free market fix it.

Oh wait.. they cant. At least not without raising wages. Which they wont do. But they'll lobby the government to make it harder for you to call in sick?? Perfect. Perfect use of money.

Secondly. Im very pro socialism. The government can and should be funding social programs. And taxing billionaires. I want them making laws. But even i think this is a fucking egregious government over reach. Like seriously? The government is deciding that its people are calling in sick too much?? What the fuck?? Why would they do this? Oh wait. See above.

And like.. if you wanna call in sick and youre not sick... i dont give a fuck. Your work doesnt OWN you! They're paying you for your labour. If you dont feel like providing it one day then thats up to you. No one. And i mean NO ONE wants the government deciding that you're calling in sick too much.

This is a stupid solution to the problem anyway. Ask anyone in the medical field. Doctors do not have the time to write notes because your work wants to control every aspect of your life because they pay you a pittance.

And no one is talking about this. The right to call in sick is one of many workers rights that were earned in BLOOD by our parents and grandparents and great grandparents. And NO ONE even noticed they did this in Germany.

But you know who is paying attention? Every rich ass hole in every other country. If this isnt fought then theyre gonna start thinking about the politicians they've paid for and what they can get them to do to YOUR SICK DAYS.

They would see us die on the floor producing for them rather than what? Not having to pay us a day because we called in??

I dont care where you live. Watch out for this. Remember the last time you called in sick. Were you? Sick i mean. Doesnt matter. If you were on your bathroom floor with a bucket or if you took a mental health day or if you went to a concert. You'll need a sick note.

If you dont have a family doctor? Walk in clinic? Emergency room? How many hours. For a note.

So if youre not willing/able to fake a doctors note then PAY THE FUCK ATTENTION because this could and probably will happen to you.

“Fuck,” he breathes, and his thigh shakes.

Ilya looks down at Shane looking up at him, staring with dark glassy eyes. The corners of his puffy pink lips quirk up from where they’re wrapped around the head of Ilya’s cock.  He pulls off and nudges him with his nose, content and unhurried while Ilya squirms before him.

“Shane,” Ilya says, half-request and half-warning, and Shane grins at him before he takes him in his mouth again.  He’s soft lips and light, unhurried lapping, and Ilya wants to just grab his face and fuck it.  He weaves one hand down into Shane’s hair instead, and braces the other on the headboard.  His hips buck up on their own a little anyway, and he bumps against the back of Shane’s throat.  Shane moans, and he absorbs the vibration.  

“Shane,” he repeats with more urgency, and Shane pulls off with his shiny, sinful smile again.  Ilya huffs, and it sounds like he's whining. 

“You wanna come?” Shane asks, and No I want to throw you over the back of the bed and fuck you, make you feel as ruined wrecked obliterated as you’re making me.  I want to hear you keening like a starving, desperate animal.  Then I want to come.

“Yes,” he grits, instead of all that.  And still, Shane takes his time, rubs Ilya’s twitching, spit-slick cock against his cheek, until Ilya grunts and pleads, “For fuck’s sake, Shane.”

And finally, finally Shane gives it to him, gives him pressure and suction and fast wet heat.  He comes groaning with Shane’s nose buried in his curly hair, so hard he still sees stars when he opens his eyes again.  

Shane cleans his mouth with the back of his hand, and comes up to lay beside Ilya, flushed and smirking with self-satisfaction.  Ilya can’t wait to wipe it off his face.  He’ll make it torture, endless, agony and bliss.  Just as soon as he can feel his legs again.

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