"Do you think... we'd be in love at sixteen? Or- fifteen?"
Shane makes a soft noise. He is so tired. His eyes are drooping, body melting into the sheets like the bed will swallow him whole. He snuggles closer, lifting an arm to palm at Ilya's bicep, fingers spreading over solid muscle. It's so warm. He's so warm. Shane wants to feel this warm forever. "Mm? What?"
"If we'd met before? You think it would have been the same?"
"Before Saskatchawan?"
"If we met as younger teenagers. Do you think you would have still loved me then?"
"Duh." Shane huffs a laugh, his hand now wrapping around Ilya's back and climbing up and threading into the curls at the nape of his neck. He hums, content. "Obviously."
Ilyaās mouth tightens slightly. āObviously,ā he repeats.
"I'd always love you." He thinks of younger Shane Hollander, and remembers wide eyes, awe as he watched younger Ilya Rozanov on the ice, the excitement that bubbled in his chest. "I watched hockey tapes of you. Before we met."
"You did?"
He yawns. "I think I had a crush on you. Which is- wow. Embarrassing."
"Lucky you. Dating your childhood crush." Ilya's tone is smug, but his smile is soft, his thumb stroking Shane's chin like he can't really believe it himself.
And Shane's voice is all syrup and honey and golden and loving when he says, before drifting to sleep, "fuck you, Ilya."
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instantly had the idea of shane posing with some lilies (from ilya of course), thought it was quintessentially lily fuckery, bc you can't really confirm shit but the evidence sure is stacking up...
thanks to @wordy-and-nerdyy for reccing me this I love it so much š
Angsty idea where the Boxing Day fight leads to a breakup over coming out and they don't talk to each other for months until Ilya sees on Instagram that Shane Hollander's documentary-famous cottage in Ontario lake country is up for sale
Ilya barely blinks before buying it on condition of anonymity because he can't bear the thought of anybody else living in the home of all of Ilya's happiest adult memories but also he doesn't want Shane to know he's that pathetic
He goes to the closing and it's only once he's signed all the paperwork and been given the keys that it really hits him and he has to reckon with the fact that Shane sold the cottage, his happiest place, and maybe neither of them is coping with the breakup after all
He refuses to change the locks because he's finally in a place to look back and realize they both fucked up, and maybe they can fix it, and if they can fix it then he always always wants Shane to be able to come home
Irina is a smart and curious child with big dreams. She gets into figure skating. Sheās good, she wants to be the best. In her late teens she gets a boyfriend. Heās good at first, sweet, but soon starts getting jealous and controlling. Every time sheās not with him, she has to tell him what sheās doing and with whom. She stops going out, she gets more and more isolated. Sheās with him all the time. Itās not enough. When she arrives 5 minutes later than the agreed upon time, he accuses her of cheating and hits her.
Sheās 19 now, she hasnāt been with him for almost a year. Sheās doing better. Her mother asks her if she doesnāt want to start going out again. She means well. Sheās so beautiful. She meets an older man. He isnāt as sweet as her first boyfriend was, but look where that got her. He treats her well and clearly cares about her. He works for the police and is well connected. Heāll protect her.
Sheās 20 now and pregnant. She wanted to try figure skating again. Or maybe go to college. Grigori keeps calling her a silly girl. He tells her she only has to make him look good. Sheās so pretty. She just needs to not embarrass him. Canāt she see how the other wives behave? How is it so difficult to organize a party? Doesnāt she have everything she needs?
Alexei is born and sheās so tired. She doesnāt know what sheās doing wrong. She wants her mother but Grigori barely lets her see her. Alexei is a difficult baby, she thinks. He cries all the time. She canāt get him to eat. She canāt get him to sleep. She has barely slept herself. āHow is this so difficult for you?ā, she hears, āevery woman does it.ā She dreams of disappearing.
Alexei finally sleeps for a few hours and meal time is easier now that he eats solid foods. She likes spending time with him. But he needs her too much sometimes. Thereās something in him that reminds her of Grigori. She doesnāt dwell on that; she canāt resent her own child. She dreams of having her own house, of skating, of going to school again.
Grigori thinks she spends too much time with Alexei. Heās a big boy now, he shouldnāt need his mother so much. He starts getting jealous of his own son. She leaves Alexei crying sometimes; itās better that way. She needs to pay attention to Grigori.
Alexei has a fever and Grigori tells her to get dressed; they have a party to attend. She tells him no; she will stay and take care of her child. He grabs her, locks her in her room, and reminds her of her place in the house. She can hear Alexei crying, a weak cry. She starts screaming and banging on the door, she has to get out. Something breaks and she canāt hear Alexei anymore. Her throat is raw from screaming when the door is open. āYou will remember what I can do.ā She doesnāt say no again. She starts thinking of her plan to leave, she will try to take Alexei. She will be good for now.
Sheās pregnant again. She canāt sleep; she canāt eat. Alexei is acting strange, has more tantrums. Heās cruel sometimes, he keeps reminding her of Grigori. She canāt have another son. She will not survive all the crying and sleepless nights. She keeps making monsters. She mustnāt think that. Alexei keeps asking for her attention. Grigori reminds her she needs to spend time with him; she is not to lock herself with her child again. She needs to leave. Her life is over. She will never escape now.
The moments she has alone, she keeps talking to her son. Ilya, she will name him. Heās her only comfort now. She begs him to please help her. He canāt be difficult. She will do her best to protect him, but he has to be good. She tells him her fears, she confides in him. Sheās terrified. āPlease donāt be like your brother, please.ā She loves Alexei, she does. āI wonāt survive if you are like him.ā She will need to find a way to leave.
Ilya is born. He looks like her. Heās a sweet baby, nothing like Alexei. He eats when she asks. He sleeps through the night. He never cries. She worries about that sometimes but when she looks at him, he looks well. Big eyes focused on her. Heās starting to smile now, every time he looks at her, he smiles. She canāt help but smile back. She continues to talk to him, tells him all her worries, asks him to help her. Heās all sheās got.
Alexei is getting more difficult now. He never stands still, always running, always breaking things. Grigori doesnāt like that, tells her she doesnāt know how to raise him. Alexei gets in trouble in preschool, heās hitting other kids. The teachers say heās a cruel boy. Grigori makes him change schools. She wonders if they were right, if whatever is wrong with Grigori, whatever is wrong with her that makes her hate her own child sometimes, has been passed to him. But then she sees the way he is with Ilya, so gentle, so careful, always making him laugh. Ilya canāt take his eyes off him, always trying to copy him. Ilyaās first word is Alexeiās name. Ilya is like that, bringing the best in everyone.
Ilya is 3 now. He loves playing with mama. They are picking flowers outside when he sees Alexei. He rushes to him and offers him the prettiest one, tall and golden yellow with pink on the outside. Alexei doesnāt even look at it and shoves him to the side. His father is right behind, an angry look on his face. He pats his head and goes inside. Thereās loud noises. He looks at the ground and the flower is destroyed. His mama is hugging him and thatās when he notices heās crying. āForgive himā he hears her say, āhe doesnāt know how to do better. Maybe we can make him a drawing to cheer him up.ā At night he goes to Alexeiās room to give him the drawing but he doesnāt go in. He notices some bruises on his wrist, like he sees in mama sometimes. He wonders if she noticed.
Mama is lying in bed. She had been there with her eyes open for a few hours, the way she is sometimes, when he went to her. Sheās petting his hair now, itās nice. āHave I ever told you about the boy I dated before I met your father?ā He hears her talk about a man whoād scream at her and hit her. She tells him about leaving him. She seems so small, her eyes are on the ceiling, her voice goes on. He closes his eyes and hugs her. āWhat is wrong with me to keep choosing this? How can they sense it in me?ā She is the strongest person he knows. He can hear Alexei turning up the volume of the TV in the living room.
Ilya started hockey lessons. He loves how fast he can go, itās like heās flying. His father goes to see him sometimes, itās the only time heās seen him smile at him. He prefers when he goes with mama, she always tells him heās the best. The coach is talking to his father now. He has his ear to the door but he canāt make out any of the words. When his father opens the door he doesnāt say a word. Later, he takes him out to eat ice-cream and tells him heāll be the best no matter what it takes. It doesnāt feel good like when mama tells him, it feels like an order.
Yesterday kids at school made fun of him for playing with flowers. They say heās like a girl with pretty curly hair. But they donāt say it kindly like his mama when she tells him heās beautiful. They say it with fists and kicks that left a bruise on his tummy. So he decided, today he will not be going to school. Mama finds him in bed, he tells her heās scared. āYes, itās scary,ā he hears, ābut youāre brave.ā
Heās alone at school today but he prefers it that way, no one bothers him. He sees a girl coming his way and he wants her to leave. He will not be rude though, so he just makes a silly face at her. She beams, takes his hand and says āyouāre such a stupid boy, Iām Svetaā They are running now and he never wants to stop. He thinks he loves her.
Alexei has been watching TV for over an hour now. He promised Ilya he would play with him, so Ilya decided to turn it off to remind him. Heās chasing him through the house now, but heās not mad, he can hear him laughing. He turns back to look at him smile, when his father opens the door. It hits him and he falls to the floor. Heās never seen his father so angry. Two punches followed by a whimper and his brother is on the floor. āYou should know better, you canāt let him do whatever he wants.ā āYes papa, thank you papa.ā His father leaves without looking at him. Ilya reaches for his brother, he wants to comfort him, but gets shoved away. Thereās blood on his shirt now and an ache on his ribs. Good, itās him who deserved to get hurt.
Heās going home from school when some older boys show up. He knows they are trouble. They are going after him, and heās running as fast as he can when Alexei shows up. He can rest now, Alexei will always protect him.
Heās trying to skate but his legs are too heavy. Heās too hot and too cold at the same time. His head hurts. Keeping upright is hard but he knows if he sits down, he will not be able to stand up again. He throws up and his coach is calling him. He will be calling his parents. āPlease donāt, please donātā, he dreads seeing his fatherās face if he has to leave early. Itās his mama who picks him up. The way home is hard, heās too tired. She helps him get into bed. Heās burning up. āHeās lazy and a liar, you canāt believe everything that boy says, youāre turning him too soft,ā he can hear his fatherās voice on the phone. His mama comes back. She gently rubs his back, his face, his wrists. āNo Ilyusha, he loves you.ā He falls asleep.
His father is screaming at mama. He canāt make out all the words but itās enough; āsissy, soft, youāre ruining him.ā He grabs her and pins her down, red, angry face so close to hers. Heās at his fatherās back, tiny fingers trying to hold his hands; heās in the air now, being taken to the bathroom. He locks Ilya in there. He can hear everything in the other room. āIāve calm down, papa. Thank you, papa.ā He opens the door now, he can leave. Heās on his mamaās bed, can feel her making soft circles on his wrist. Later at night, when he can hear his father snoring, he goes into their room. He crawls to his motherās side and notices sheās looking at him, tears in her eyes that wonāt fall. He lies on the floor and holds her hand, watches her as she falls asleep. It becomes a habit; he always has to check on her.
Alexei broke a window playing football. Heās not breathing right, words scrambled on their way out of his mouth. āYou have to tell him it was you. He wonāt hurt you.ā Ilya can still see his fatherās hand on his arm.
Ilya got punched today, some boys at school who didnāt like him. Sveta is helping him clean his wounds like she has done so many times before. Alexei sees him and Ilya feels a little safer. āWhen will you learn to toughen up? Such a fag.ā Sveta kicks his shin.
Word gets around that Ilya is the best at hockey. Heās bigger now, stronger. Boys donāt mess with him anymore. Heās learned that he can be loud and mean, and everyone wants to be around him. Heās never felt more alone.
His father is going to hit his mama, heās sure. He raises his hand and Ilya holds it. āStop.ā His father is looking at him, twists his arm. It hurts but he doesnāt show it. It gets him to stop. āMy sweet guardian angel, you will always protect me,ā his mama tells him. āPromise me youāll always be my sweet, soft boy. He canāt take that from you.ā He turns his head away from her, tears running down his face.
Heās beating records now. He can hear his coaches saying heās the best theyāve ever seen. He remembers skating for the first time with his mama. He will get her out of here, he will be the best and make sure they will escape.
His mama spends days on her bed, not moving, barely eating. He talks to her one day, asks her if sheās ever thought of leaving. āI canāt leave you Ilyusha, youāre my reason to stay.ā āTake me with you,ā he doesnāt say.
His mama is having a good day today. They spent the whole morning together like when he was little. They have to go to school in the evening, Alexei is receiving an award. Itās almost time, heās changed his clothes. His mama is napping but heāll have to wake her. She wonāt move, she wonāt breathe. Sheās holding her necklace, heās holding her. Thereās a ringing in his ears, he can hear a high, ragged sound but he canāt tell where itās coming from. His father is in the room now, telling him to move. His feet wonāt cooperate. He gets pushed away. āThis was an accident,ā his tone brooks no argument. In his own room, he realizes his throat is raw. He looks at his hand and sees the cross staring at him. āYouāre free now. You should have taken me with youā, he doesnāt say.
Alexei wonāt look at Ilya anymore. Ilya keeps practicing and heās getting better and better, no one can compare to him. Alexei wonāt look at him. His father brings him to parties, introduces him to all the right people. He will be a star. āI have to keep him in line, he gets lazy otherwise.ā Alexei is in a bathroom somewhere hooking up with a girl and doing coke. He still wonāt look at him. Ilya gets more and more popular. Alexei will join the police, like father did before. His father wonāt look at Alexei.
He meets Sasha. He likes him. Heās fun and Ilya can be fun with him. People enjoy when heās fun. Sasha can be soft too, in his own way. Ilya appreciates that, he hasnāt been soft in a long time.
Ilya starts hooking up with girls sometimes and heās having fun. They like that he doesnāt care and when heās a little mean. He prefers Sveta though, they can cuddle afterwards.
He sleeps with Sasha and thatās a different rush. He feels unstoppable. Heās the best, even Sveta thinks so, and she knows more than anyone else.
He knows heās good but now heāll have an opportunity to show it too. Shane Hollander thinks he canāt see right through him, but he wonāt act so nice once Ilya beats him. He knows what heās like, perfect, golden boy, from a perfect, golden family. Heās not used to competition. But why does he seem genuine then?
Hollander is good. Not as good as him, but good. Playing is fun again. And heās learning that teasing him is even more fun. He keeps thinking about him, but thatās only because heās not used to having someone on his level.
He gets drafted first. He is the best like he promised his mama. He escaped, but he isnāt free.
Hollander is a surprise. Heās never had this much fun with anyone else. Heās a risk and thatās part of it. He keeps feeling wrong-footed, he doesnāt follow the same script as everyone else. He hides so much and yet heās so genuine. He canāt stop poking him, and poking him, and poking him. And Hollander lets him. Seems to like it. Itās exhilarating.
He needs to be pushed, to be teased, to be touched. But he also craves gentleness and softness. Ilya can give him that without it being more.
He sees his face on a stupid ad. He wants to text him. He had a good practice today. He wants to text him. Heās making friends, and going out. He wants to text him. He texts Sveta instead.
Hollander wants him, thatās clear. And thatās good, heās used to being wanted, he likes being needed. He can give him what he wants. He can make it fun, so Hollander will keep coming back.
Ilya is back in Russia. His father is getting sicker, Alexei is unbearable, only talks to him to ask for more. Ilya almost hit him today. He really is his fatherās son.
Ilya needs Hollander, wants to text him. But heās reminded of the poison that is his family, heās reminded of the risks. He wonāt risk Hollander.
He wins the Stanley Cup. He escaped, but he still isnāt free. āFor you Mama, it was always for you.ā
Hollander still wants him and it gets easier to breathe. He likes how he reacts to his teasing and itās good sex, thatās the only reason. No point in stopping, itās just having fun and they both clearly enjoy it. He wonāt ruin him though, he wonāt get close, thereās no reason to. Ilya dreams of an escape, but he will just keep hanging around for as long as he wants him to.
It keeps being fun. Heās never felt more alive. Playing is better than ever. He goes out, his teammates like him. Heās popular, everyone wants him. Heās not hooking up with random people as much but thatās because heās feeling better than ever, he doesnāt need it as much anymore, and thatās the only reason.
He wonders what Hollander is doing, what he's eating, what he's reading. He collects little pieces of information, how he looks when he focuses, how he talks to reporters and how he chirps on the ice. He wants to know.
Heās counting down the days to meeting Hollander. Heās texting him. He thinks it would be good to hang out with him more, outside of sex. He wants him to stay the night. He wants him to drink the ginger ale he bought for him. He wants to cook him a meal and he wants him to eat it. He wants to kiss him. He wants to hold him. He wants and wants and wants.
He learned that he canāt want things a long time ago, but heās stupid, it takes too many times for it to truly sink in. Every time he sees Shane with her, heās reminded of the same lesson. He wasnāt made to have, only to give.
He knows Shane wants him, heāll just have to accept that itās only for this. He can be fun, he can give him that.
Seeing Shane again is better and worse than he could have anticipated. He canāt stop looking at him. Maybe he can have him again, and without her, which is better than he imagined.
Shane wants more, but he doesnāt understand. Ilya isnāt that, he isnāt big and fun and laid back, heās broken, and small, and scared. He canāt want that, so why does it feel like maybe he can?
His father dies and he has no reason to see his brother again. It should be freeing, heās not sure why it doesnāt feel that way.
He calls Shane, he always wants to talk to him. For once, he is the one who wants more, more, more, but heās learning to be happy with what he gets.
He canāt breathe. He wants to go to him and hold his hand. Heās not moving. Is he breathing? He needs to get to him. His feet wonāt cooperate. He gets pushed away. Everything his heart touches dies.
Heās fine and smiling and relaxed. He is okay. He will be okay. He wants to comfort him. He wants to give him everything he asks for. He canāt tell him no, but he doesnāt know how to make this possible.
Scott Hunter is kissing a man and he hopes. Maybe he will be free.
Heās scared, but he can be brave, he can be soft. Heās trying, he shares little by little and Shane catches him. He can be loud, and fun, and mean, and scared, and small, and soft. Heās always there. He looks at big sad eyes with tears that wonāt fall and he remembers. He hears him laugh and sees him smile and he remembers. He wants to hide, but heās held and he remembers. Shane looks at him and sees him and he remembers. He can be loved.
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āLily canāt get pregnant!ā Shane shouts at him, throwing his towel against his locker. The wet sound snapped everyoneās eyes at him.
Their captian never yelled. Never.
Hayden had been ribbing him all practice in his usually, puppy like ignorant way, where he couldnāt, or perhaps wouldnāt, see how his words tore Shane apart.
Shane snapped.
āHow many times have I told you that Lily and I are casual. Friends. Not everyone wants to get married and have five kids before 30,ā Shane grumbled as he picked up his towel. Not everyone can, he thought selfishly.
Hayden stood completely still, like a prey animal who knew it had been spotted. āI was just ā ā
āI know you were just, you always just. No matter how many times I tell you to drop it, to stop setting me up with Jackieās friends, to stop asking when Iām having kids, you just canāt stop.ā Shane closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the cool locker door. He forced himself to breathe in and out. Focus.
āLily and I are not in a relationship. Weāre both very focused on our careers right now, and franky I donāt want kids while Iām only 24. Neither does Lily. And even if we might one day want to have kids, we canātā¦ā Shane hated lying, he hated saying Lily instead of Ilya. He hated that he had to conceal his love from his best friend.
For all that they were brothers, Hayden had a tendency to irritate him with his childlike, happy- go-lucky personality. He didnāt know what it was like; He drafted 17th overall, he was white, a decent player with a decent family background, a beautiful wife who was happy to forgo her education to raise their kids.
Hayden wasnāt half asian. He wasnāt an immigrant. He was the poster card hockey player; the white man, with a white wife and their four (beautiful and amazing) kids, who advertisers would never second guess publicly endorsing.
Hayden and Jackie was everything Shane and Ilya could never be. And at times Shane hated them a little for it.
āEven if we might one day want to, it wouldnāt matter. Lily is only in America on a work visa, and as she canāt get pregnant naturally we would have to look into adoption or surrogacy, something thatās practically impossible for us right now with our jobs. And her family isnātā¦too happy about me.ā
āHer familyās racist?ā Comeau piped up from his seat. āAnd why would her workplace care who sheās dating?ā
āJesus christ, man. Racism is a thing. Xenophobia is a thing. Iām half asian and sheās an immigrant. If the wrong person hears about our relationship and decides to be a little bitch about it, her employment could be cut and sheād have to go back toā¦a very shitty place.ā
āBut thatās illegal,ā JJ mumbled to himself but looked down as soon as Shane set his eyes on him. JJ knew personally that just because something is illegal doesnāt mean it canāt or wonāt happen.
Theyād both been on the receiving end of racist remarks by coaches and players without any support from the higher ups. It was a known ādonāt speak about itā issue at the Montreal enterprise.
āYeah, but itās also reality.ā
Forcing his breath to stay even, Shane threw a hoodie over his head and tried to picture Ilyas beautiful smile. He had to protect him above all. Protect them. Opening his eyes he noticed that all his friends had theirs set on him.
The whole team knew about Boston Lily. They knew he was quiet about her, that she was the only girl heād been with for years, and that it might be serious. She had become somewhat of an urban legend amongst them. No one knew anything, and it had to stay that way.
āItās safer for us, for our future even, if we keep it under wraps for now.ā Shane turned to look at Hayden, who to his credit looked heartbroken and slightly ashamed. Shane hated that it filled him with a sense of satisfaction.
āIf we one day decide to make a go for it, sheād have to apply for a permanent residency in America or Canadian citizenship, which will take years. If we want kids thatās a whole other issue. A whole other five to seven years of background checks, biological testing, etc.ā
It was clear from the way Hayden sunk into himself that he had never even considered this possibility. That he and Shane lived in two very different worlds.
āI probably wonāt be a father until iām near 40, and even then, I plan on playing for as long as possible. Lily too, wants to focus on her career. Your kids would finish high school by the time any of ours are even born. Thatās if weāre lucky enough to have them, which isnāt a guarantee.ā
A soft āfucking hell manā was heard from the back of the room, but he couldnāt pick out who it was. It didnāt matter though, as all the guys looked at him with pity. Shane fucking hated pity. As did Ilya.
āRight now weāre both happy with our arrangement because thatās all we can be.ā Shane pretended no one could hear how his voice wavered. He forced himself to sound harsh as he put his foot down.
āSo just, back off. Stop asking about Lily. Stop setting me up on surprise blind dates and asking when Iām having kids. Itās not gonna happen for us, I mean me, for at least another ten to fifteen years so. Just. Back off.ā
With a loud slam of his locker, Shane marched out of the room, head down, hands clenched tight in his pockets.
Tomorrow would be better.
Tomorrow he would show up and be the captain the team deserved.
(Heād most likely get a talking to from Theriault for exploding like this, and heād apologise like the good boy he is, and heād leave all his personal problems at home, and focus only on hockey.)
But first, he needed to go home and cry in the shower.
Ten to fifteen years.
Ten to fifteen years before he could live a full life with Ilya.
my darlings. i want to read your writing. your thoughts. your feelings. your creativity. your horniness. your characterization. your style. your voice. your point of view. your quirks.
and i want your imperfection! your typos! your spelling errors! your grammar mistakes! your misused/misplaced words! your clunky phrasing! your awkward metaphors! ALL OF IT!
and i don't care how long it takes. i don't care how long i have to wait between the time you first mention the concept and the time you debut the work itself. i don't care how long i have to wait between chapters. whether it's weeks, month, years, or DECADES! i will wait. joyfully.
the value of your work is that you made it. i want to read what you wrote because i trust you and i love you and fandom is about community, not consumption.
you don't need AI to check your work. you don't need AI to correct spelling and grammar. you don't need AI to edit your work. you don't need AI to make it sound more polished. you don't need AI to make it more flowery. you don't need AI to fill in the parts that are hard for you to write. you don't need AI to write more, or write faster.
You. Are. Good. Enough.
Even if you make mistakes. Even if it takes you forever. You're good enough!
The worst thing you make will always be better than the nicest-sounding, most technically perfect thing made (even partially) by AI. only human-made things are art. AI cannot make anything new. AI can just regurgitate something that has already been made by a human.
don't fall prey to the pressure to produce a large volume of writing, that looks and sounds professional, in a short period of time. that's not the goal. the goal is to enjoy making something!
i want to read something that you had fun writing! i want to read something that you wrote for pure love of the game. something born of your passion for the source material. that's what fandom is.
if you surrender or delegate ANY part of the process to AI, that defeats the entire purpose of fanworks. don't give up the joy, the fun, the challenge, the triumph of creating something. make something out of love. share it out of love. we will read it out of love.
Shane is clinging to the sheets. Fingers curling, grasping, clawing at them. Teeth gnawing at them between breathless moans and gasps. Ilya's been thrusting into him for what feels like hours. Every time Shane tries to reach around and give his aching leaky dick a tug Ilya slaps his ass hard. His ass cheeks are a pretty pink from how needy he's been. Ilya's been working hard to ensure his thrusts don't touch his prostate. Each slide of the Ilya's big, hard cock missing that pleasure spot in him. And Shane just can't cum. He wants to. He wants to so bad. So so bad. Just one tug on his dick and he'd be shooting his load all over the sheets below him. But Ilya won't let him touch. He's on the verge of tears when Ilya finishes inside of him. Warm thick seed filling his belly.
Ilya flips him over so suddenly he can't even brace himself. His knees are pushed up to his ears, hard cock flopping against his tummy, and his leaking fucked out hole is on full display. Ilya rubs his hole with two thick fingers.
"Please," Shane begs. Pushes up into the touch. Tries to catch the fingers in his hole. Tries to suck them inside himself.
"Pretty pussy," Ilya says. Rubs at his hole. Up and down in quick strokes with his index and middle finger.
"It's not-" Shane tries to protest but is cut off.
"Looks like pretty pussy. Swollen pussy lips. Wet fuck hole," Ilya says, looks directly at Shane's untouched cock leaking cum into his belly button. "Fat needy clit."
"Stop that," Shane glares. It loses all heat by the moan that escapes his mouth when Ilya's fingernails catch on his rim.
The rubbing picks up. His hole is sloppy, wet from cum and lube. The sound is obscene. The sound is well like a pussy. Shane flushes hard at the realization. His dick jumps against his tummy. Ilya smirks, able to read exactly what Shane is thinking.
"Are you going to be a good girl for me and cum from having your pussy played with?" He asks.
Shane nods. Bucks into the rubbing. Closes his eyes and pictures it's his pussy. Hot and wet and open for Ilya. He comes at the thought. Dick pulsing, bouncing, spewing against his stomach.
"Good girl, squirt for me," Ilya says, rubs his hole in slow circular motions until Shane's breathing has steadied and his legs have stopped shaking.
Shane sated, flops against the mattress with a huff, "So, even with me you can't find the clit, huh?"
The remark earns him a pillow to the face and a slap to his sensitive spent cock that makes him tear up. It was worth it.
