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Porch Light 💡Ongoing

˙⋆✮ ˙⋆✮ ˙⋆✮ ˙⋆✮ ˙⋆✮ ˙⋆✮ ˙⋆✮ ˙⋆✮ ˙⋆✮ Hollanov Smau where Ilya and Shane are in a band together. Shane only joins Porch Light as a hobby, but his skill and presence quickly sets off a petty competition with the lead guitarist, Ilya. The bands newfound chemistry pushes their fame, but a sudden shared kiss changes it all.

#shane x ilya #shane hollander #ilya rozanov #hollanov #smau #band fic #social media #alternate universe #rose x svetlana #angst #fluff #heated rivalry #heated rivarly fanfic #porch light #porch light smau

Porch light 💡 pt.31

Hollanov AU where Shane and Ilya are in a band together. Navigating their rise to fame at the cost of their undeniable attraction

https://archiveofourown.org/works/88724756

A/n: 1.) Shane basically recognizes he’s only satisfied by Ilya, or he’s Ilyasexual. 2.) Ilya gets back at Max. 3.) Drunk texts were inspired by a post I saw on Pinterest, LOL. Anyways, enjoy!!

Cw: alcohol abuse, anxiety, possessiveness

Ilyasexual (Explicit) wc: 4.7k

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Bent over with his face in the pillow. Max had Shane in a typical position he loved to be in. Although this time, Shane couldn't wait for it to be over. Short and rather uneventful sex. Max had locks of brunette curls; his body lean and built, and a big dick, if not bigger than Ilya's. A package deal, one could say. Yet there he lay completely unsatisfied.

"Ughh, I'll be back." Max stretched dramatically and made his way towards the bathroom connected to the bedroom.

Shane figured he'd scroll social media for some source of dopamine and reached for his phone from the nightstand.

Ilya (8 Messages)

Initially, he remembered the bait he threw Ilya. A mirror photo of him and Max. Shane wrapped his arms around him and pressed kisses into the crook of his neck while Max took the picture. This would show Ilya that if he wanted to use other people to make him jealous, he could too. Shane felt pleased with himself. He'd gotten a reaction from the man; after all, he'd removed everyone from his 'Close Friends' Instagram story except him.

He opened it and immediately read the chain of messages.

drank too mich shane

im so tired

i jsyt want to be in your arms

you feel safe

you make me feel so comfortable

i love you

baby

And another,

i loge you so much

Shane stared at his phone, stunned. He didn't expect this response from the man. Maybe, fuck you, or I hate you, and then they'd have really messy make-up sex.

“You okay?” Max strode towards the bed, naked, interrupting Shane's disoriented state. Ew. Shane's gaze traced over his sculpted body. Suddenly he felt a strong revulsion towards the man he'd just slept with. His poor performance, maybe? Or perhaps the drunken messages he'd just received?

Shane quickly powered his phone off so no other messages went through and placed it on the nightstand.

“Yeah, fine.” He attempted a smile and pulled the covers further up his body. How to disappear? The horrible sex with Max, on top of Ilya’s confession, sent Shane spiraling. Max didn’t even attempt to cuddle or provide any aftercare. Instead, he kissed his cheek and turned over.

“Okay, Goodnight.” He pulled on the bedside lamp and the room went dark.

“Night.” Unsatisfied, alone with his thoughts, and in this stranger’s bed. He felt used, like he had lain there solely for Max’s pleasure. Shane shifted his position and winced. He felt the sensation of razor blades against his tender hole. Max didn’t open him with care; he rushed the foreplay and didn't even do a good job sucking his dick. Ilya would never. It took a lot for Shane not to reply to Ilya's texts. I love you too. Definitely drunk out of his mind; he'd only hope there were others there to look after him. Shane figured he’d address Ilya later. This was a conversation that needed to take place in person, sober.

The following morning Max dropped Shane off. Shane couldn't wait to leave and never speak to him again. He gathered his belongings and opened the door halfway before Max grabbed Shane's wrist, stopping him from exiting.

"I can't get a kiss?" He puckered his lips and closed his eyes, expecting Shane to meet him there.

Yuck. Shane wanted nothing more than to punch that stupid look off his face. He yanked his arm away and slammed his car door.

On the elevator ride up, Shane grappled with what he would say to Ilya. Did you really mean it? I like you so much it scares me. Or, I love you more. Shane shook his head and rolled his eyes to himself. What the fuck was he thinking?

When he finally made it to the room, no sign of Ilya. According to Rose, he hadn’t returned last night from the bar(s).

Could he be with Juliet?

Anxiety crept in, and Shane immediately dialed Ilya. The first call went straight to voicemail. So did the second, and the fifth.

“I still can’t see his location.” Svetlana said after checking her “Find My” app. They had continued calling him all morning. Surprisingly enough, Svetlana and Rose were the least worried of the group.

“Ilya is a six-foot male Russian made of pure muscle; he's probably with some girl and his phone's dead,” Rose admits.

Svetlana nodded in agreement, “Yeah, this isn’t the first time Ilya’s Irish goodbye’d us. He’ll be back soon, I’m sure.”

Shane continued to chew more aggressively at the inside of his mouth. Their words didn’t ease any of his worries. They didn’t know Ilya's level of intoxication, and they didn’t see the messages he sent.

—————————————————--

Rose, Cliff, and Svetlana decided to enjoy their last few days in L.A., leaving Shane to wait around for Ilya alone. He wouldn’t have been able to enjoy the quality time anyway. The uncertainty of his whereabouts scared him. Pacing the hotel room for minutes, maybe hours; he’d lost awareness of time a while ago.

Suddenly, the beeping of the card reader to their door went off. Ilya, the only one with the other room card.

Shane practically ran to the door before Ilya appeared behind it. His head hung low, curls pointing in every direction, and his eye bags were enough evidence of his persistent crying. A rough state, nonetheless.

“Where the fuck were you? We’ve been calling for hours.” Fear caused him to lash out.

Ilya closed the door behind him and pushed past Shane. “Lost my phone.” He plopped down onto his bed and mumbled. He looked exhausted.

He had little to no recollection of last night. Bar hopping in hopes of finding someone who resembled Shane even in the slightest. And when he ultimately failed, he drank himself into oblivion.

“Ilya,” Shane approached him, softer now.

Ilya looked up at him with his heavy-lidded eyes. He started to tear up.

“I’m sorry,” Ilya confessed.

Shane wasn’t sure if he remembered the texts or not, and what exactly he was apologizing for.

“For what?” He asked, seeking more clarity.

“Kissing Juliet-” Ilya admitted.

Ah. So maybe he didn’t remember sending the texts; did he not mean it?

“ -And sleeping with her.” Tears welled and spilled over. Ilya dropped his head into his palms.

“I fucked up. I ruined what we could’ve had because I felt fucking jealous. All because I couldn’t stand the way you looked at Max. I saw the way you looked at him, and it scared me. So I kissed Juliet; I don't know why. Maybe in hopes you'd be jealous too and stop flirting with him and flirt with me instead…I have never felt such deep jealousy before, Shane, and I’m sorry. I really am. You make me feel so different, and honestly it fucking scares me.” Ilya shook his head, his self-deprecating thoughts drowning him. “I’m so sorry.” He let out a choked sob.

Ilya felt everything in this moment, the regret, guilt, and jealousy; all crashing down at once, and Shane’s heart ached for him.

“I’m just fucked up.” He spoke the last sentence quietly, more as a confession to himself.

Shane had never seen Ilya in this state. It pained him that Ilya thought so lowly of himself; he wasn't messed up. Sure, he said and did some shitty things, but everyone did occasionally; it's a part of the human condition. And truthfully, over the past few days Shane had spent time getting to know Ilya deeper, and underneath the hard layer, there lay a soft, kind heart.

Shane stepped closer now fully in front of Ilya before crouching down.

“You’re not fucked up, Ilya. And you didn't ruin things.” Shane placed a hand on his knee and stared up at him through his eyelashes. Ilya's head remained in his palms, and Shane stood up carefully so he could sit down beside Ilya on the bed instead.

"Hey…" he spoke quietly and rubbed a gentle hand along Ilya's back. With the immediate relief from Shane's touch, Ilya needed more. He slowly moved his head into his lap. Shane responded instantly and combed his finger through his thick curls. Shane copied the soothing technique his mother used on him when he would have a breakdown in his youth.

Once Ilya's breathing became even, the room went silent except for the occasional sniffling from Ilya’s runny nose. Shane's leg fell asleep some time ago, but he would stay there for as long as Ilya needed him to.

Ilya lightly peeled himself off Shane. "I should shower," he finally spoke. He needed to cleanse himself of the night.

————————

A few hours later, Shane informed everyone of Ilya’s reappearance and suggested a lunch outing. Though too hungover, Ilya politely declined, and Shane decided to stay back with him instead. Once Ilya had showered, he immediately passed out for a nap soon afterwards. When he finally awoke, he spotted a glass of water and an electrolyte packet on his nightstand. Shane made his heart melt. Across from him, Shane lay on his bed with his legs crossed at his ankles and a book sitting in his lap. His glasses perched on his nose, along with his endearing face of concentration, so Beautiful.

As if he could sense eyes on him, Shane faced Ilya’s direction. “You’re up,” he stated.

Ilya closed his eyes quickly, attempting a terrible execution of being asleep. Instead, he squinted with one eye open and the other closed. “Yes,” Ilya grumbled, "I am," reaching up to rub his eyes. The weight of the night still tugged at his chest, now a little less heavy. He had drunk himself to misery and confessed his love for Shane. He would be more embarrassed if Shane wasn’t so… Shane.

“How are you feeling?” Shane closed his book and sat upright to fully face Ilya. How was he so cute? Ilya had to resist the urge to ask Shane to lie next to him, just tell me everything's okay. The large space between them too painful.

Instead, he spoke, “I’m okay. Feeling less tired and no more headache." He attempted a smile. "I’m uhm, sorry about this morning…and last night. And I know that-“, Shane interrupted Ilya’s apology by standing up to crawl into his bed. Almost like he read Ilya's mind. He lay next to him, both heads on a pillow parallel to each other. He brought up a delicate hand to caress Ilya's cheek. Always so gentle and soft. Touching Ilya as if he were made of porcelain glass and could break with too much force.

“You don't need to explain yourself...I care about you, Ilya...like a lot.” He wanted to cry again. No. Ilya gulped and softly leaned into Shane’s touch. The tender moment couldn't last any longer without a shared kiss. Shane lifted Ilya's chin and connected their lips.

“I know your uhm… phone's lost. But do you remember the texts you sent me?" Shane's curiosity ate at him.

Ilya briefly recalled his intense feelings from the night before when he saw Shane's story. He had just finished dancing with some random girls when he arrived back at the bar.

"Vodka on the rocks." He said in his native tongue to the Russian bartender. She nodded and began grabbing his glass when Ilya took a seat and pulled out his phone. Many boring notifications from Instagram popped up; randoms liking his posts and sending DM's. He lazily scrolled further down until one stood out. ShaneHollander added a post to his story. Ilya immediately clicked and noticed the green ring around his profile picture; Shane added him to his close friends' story. Weird. Maybe he's not mad anymore.

He waited for the photo to load. Drumming his fingers on his knee. Stupid fucking bar service. Once the image appeared, Ilya's entire body stilled and filled with something indescribable. A surge of heat ran through his body, and the drinks he'd had earlier threatened to reappear. The blare of the crowd and the music faded. His thoughts grew louder. He quickly slipped through the crowd of people and out the door. He pulled a cigarette out swiftly before bringing Shane's photo back up. You gotta be fucking kidding me. He snarled to himself. He took a longer pull on his cigarette this time before turning his phone sideways and bringing it closer to his face, analyzing it further. Shane's face tucked deeply into Max's neck, kissing him? He was mocking Ilya. Fucking Shane. He and Ilya took a photo exactly like this a few nights ago in the hotel after Shane desperately begged him to cum.

Ilya's breathing became restricted, and the heaviness in his chest grew into something more noticeable. He remained outside the bar. Tears started to pool in his eyes. The faint echo of the bar unexpectedly became louder as the door swung open, and a few guys Ilya had met noticed him. Ilya quickly wiped his eyes with his thumb and slipped the source of his anguish back into his pocket.

"Yo, it's Ilya!" One of the guys cheered.

Another man spoke. "What are you doing out here alone, bro? Jessica was looking all over for you." Winking and placing his hand on Ilya's shoulder. Troy.

Ilya blew out smoke and lifted his cigarette into Troy's view. "Needed a smoke," his voice strained. He held back tears.

"Haha! Gotcha. We were gonna check out a few other bars down the street. Wanna join?" The man asked.

Ilya briefly looked past the man at the group of guys conversating behind him. Why the fuck not? They were pretty cool, and being with Svetlana, Rose, and Cliff would only remind him of Shane. And fuck that, Ilya wouldn't let Shane ruin his night. "Sure," Ilya replied with a tight smirk.

Once they arrived at the next bar, Ilya had continuous shots.

"Drinks on me!" he shouted, and the men cheered. What fun is drinking yourself to stupor alone anyway? Five shots later, maybe more, Troy had noticed Ilya stumbling back to the bar just minutes after their last shot.

"Can I get one-one more..uh. One shot of-" Ilya's words were cut short by a strong hand patting his back.

"I think you've had enough for tonight, bro," Troy said, offering an empathetic smile. It was more of a command than a request. Ilya had been repeating the same story from his exciting summer of the 2010s in Russia for the past twenty minutes; how many girls he'd fucked, and all the money he'd blown. The guys were starting to make fun of him after the fourth time.

"Fuck off, Troy." Ilya weakly pushed his arm off of him and turned back towards the bartender. "Yeah, one shot of-" he attempted to continue.

"No, he's done here. Thank you." Troy nodded and gently tried to guide Ilya away from the bar.

"Blyat!" Ilya shot a piercing look in Troy's direction. He pointed his thumb towards him lazily, "Look, I don't even know this guy. Here's my money. I'd like another shot, please." Ilya slurred.

The bartender glanced at Troy, then back at the hammered man. "Sorry, dude, you're cut off." The bartender replied.

Ilya started mumbling incoherent words in Russian before finding an empty table to sit down at. Troy followed closely behind him.

"Look, you're messed up, man. I'm just trying to look out for you, okay? Drink some of this." He pushed a glass of water in Ilya's direction

"No," Ilya said fiercely before knocking it over. The water spilled over the surface of the table and into Troy's lap.

"What the fuck? I'm just trying to help you, fucking baby."

"Wah. wah wah," Ilya said mockingly, impersonating fake crying. Troy stood up to walk away. "Whatever, man."

Reclining back in the booth, Ilya spoke again. "I d-don't need youur fucking help." He murmured. Troy disappeared into the crowd.

Troy knew it didn't make sense to fight with Ilya in his state. Instead, he made sure to keep watch of him from a distance. Laid out dramatically in one of the booths with his phone in hand. And that's when Ilya texted Shane.

Back in bed, Ilya blinked the blurry memory away. "Yes, I briefly remember," Ilya said matter-of-factly. "I know I crashed out; I could have been pouring my heart out, probably." He stared intensely at Shane's hands while they restlessly played with the string of his shorts.

"Yeah, and you uhm…" He spoke apprehensively, "said you.. loved me?" Shane avoided making eye contact. Each of them focused on where Shane's hands were fidgeting.

The achingly long period of silence made Shane uneasy. Did he fall asleep again? Shane finally tore his gaze from his hands and met Ilyas' eyes with uncertainty. He was definitely awake and staring very intently at Shane, studying him. Shane's coffee-brown eyes finally met the icy blue ones that pierced through his soul.

Ilyas' hand came to calm Shane's fidgeting. He spoke gently. "I do." He said so softly that if Shane wasn't beside him, he would've missed it.

Unsure of what to say in this moment, Shane never handled conversations like these too well. Ex-girlfriends would start arguments: do you even love me? Having to plead his case and reassure them that, of course, he did; that's why he stayed with them. Or so he thought. And now that he'd met Ilya, he'd discovered a whole new definition of love.

"I'm sorry for sleeping with Max." Shane settled on admitting.

Ilya's blood ran cold. "You let him fuck you?"

As if on cue, Shane's phone lit up with a new message.

Max.

"Will I be seeing you again soon, handsome?"

And another.

“I don’t mind you playing hard to get lol, we can get kinky. ;)"

“Is that him?” Ilya looked over Shane’s phone. The fuck?

Shane shook his head and placed his phone back down. "Yeah. He didn’t even do it right, though; I laid there basically soulless." Shane explained, "He didn’t even open me properly and-“Ilya cut him off with a long kiss. This is why he shouldn’t let anyone else touch him. His Shane is meant to be treated only with love and care. A kind only Ilya can deliver.

Ilya paused a moment between kisses. “No one will ever fuck you like I can, Shane.” His kisses became more intense, and Shane's body melted into his touch. Ilya gently laid Shane so he could tower over him. Caging him in with his long, muscular arms.

The kisses turned into something much sloppier. Shane’s moans became needier. He pressed his erection into Ilya's hard body above him.

“Fuck Shane. You’re mine. No one else will ever touch you." Ilya said breathlessly. His words, combined with his thick accent, shivered down his spine. Yes, no one. Nothing mattered, but Ilya.

He placed one more kiss on his lips before placing kisses down his body until he made it to his clothed dick.

“Take these off.” Ilya practically growled, tugging on Shane's shorts.

Shane quickly obeyed and pulled them off hastily. His dick leaked with need already.

Ilya's gaze scanned Shane's body, admiring each curve and tone of muscle. So perfect. "Tonight, I will make sure you don’t let anyone else touch you, yes?”

“Mmhm.” Shane slowly became more intoxicated by each word the man spoke.

“I will make sure I fuck you so well you wouldn’t be able to enjoy any other dick but mine.” Ilya softly began caressing every inch of his body with his hands. Worshipping it, as it should be. And to think Max thought himself worthy.

“Fuck Ilya.” Shane thrusted his hips into the air, searching for any form of friction. “Please do it, I only want you. I only need you.” Shane whined.

Ilya’s pupils were blown, and those words were enough for him to quickly wrap his mouth around Shane’s aching cock. Already so pent up and needy from his lack of pleasure last night, he pulled tightly at Ilya’s curls while he slurped around his dick.

“Please, please, please.” Shane didn't know what he was begging for, but he was already achingly close. No one compared to Ilya.

Ilya’s spit dripped far enough down Shane’s taint that his hole was moist enough for him to insert a finger. He ran the tip of his fingers around it and made note of the swollen area. Max had the opportunity to fuck Shane, and he handled him with ignorance. Fire ignited within him. He wanted to kill this guy for treating Shane with such carelessness.

Ilya continued to bob his head around Shane’s cock while he gently pressed a single finger into him. Then he shifted his mouth to his balls. Feverishly sucking and lapping at them, as breathy moans escaped Shane. Because Max handled him so poorly last night, the dull ache in his hole soon turned into pleasure at Ilya’s delicate touch.

“You okay?” Ilya lifted his head and studied Shane. He continued pumping his index finger into him slowly.

“Yes. Yeah, please don’t stop.” Shane reached his hands down to guide Ilya’s finger deeper into him, and Ilya took this as a sign to insert another and curl his fingers right on that sweet spot.

“Fuckkk.” Shane’s back arched off the mattress. Ilya’s fingers picked up the pace. He was feeling everything more intensely now after being with such a shitty partner last night. He would never take Ilya for granted again. Ilya stared intently into Shane’s eyes and moved slightly further down the bed.

“I will make you forget he’s ever even touched you.” Ilya lifted Shane’s thighs and stuck his tongue deep into Shane’s hole.

“Oh my- Ilya.” Shane’s eyes squeezed shut. Ilya continued lapping at his hole. The pleasure too intense.

“You gotta get off, Ilya. I’m gonna- I can’t.” Shane muttered quickly. Ilya removed his mouth before placing one last gentle kiss on his hole. He released his grip on Shane’s legs and moved up to kiss him.

“I’m sorry he didn’t take care of you as I can,” Ilya said. He leaned in for another kiss. “Like you deserve.”

"No, you're not." Shane chuckled. He knew Ilya basked in the idea that Max was so terrible at sex it made Ilya's talent seem so much better, though he was already really fucking good.

"I ammm," Ilya whined. "I'm more upset he performed well enough you stayed the night though." he shrugged nonchalantly.

"I didn't have a choice; he drove me," Shane admitted.

"You could've walked," Ilya suggested sarcastically.

Shane stared up at Ilya and smiled.

“Can you fuck me now?" Shane looked down at his painfully hard cock. "Properly, please? I got worried that performance by Max turned me straight.” ”

Ilya chuckled and got up to grab lube and a condom. When he returned to the bed, he quickly undressed himself before asking Shane for his phone.

“Why?” Shane asked innocently, handing him his phone anyway.

“I’m gonna show him how to fuck you properly,” Ilya said flatly, scrolling through his recent messages.

Shane couldn’t believe the words that left Ilya’s mouth. He was sure he'd done some kind of heroic act in his past life to have Ilya, someone who defends his honor so fiercely. Hott.

Ilya found the most recent message Max had sent.

“I don’t mind you playing hard to get lol, we can get kinky. ;)”

I’ll show you fucking kinky, Ilya thought. Jealousy flowed through his veins. He immediately hit the FaceTime button. The ringing filled the room until Max answered after the second chime. Desperate piece of shit. Max felt puzzled when Ilya’s face appeared on his screen instead of Shane's.

“Uhm..hello?” Max said, confused.

“Hi Maximus. I wanted to show you something, if that’s alright?” Ilya said casually.

“Okay..?” Max hesitated.

Ilya leaned down to place a kiss on Shane’s lips out of Max’s view before he placed the camera on the nightstand closest to Shane’s head. Max was going to watch Ilya. He had one chance to see Shane fall apart, and he’d blown it.

Ilya’s naked body filled the screen, holding Shane’s legs.

“What the fuck?” Max let out an awkward chuckle.

Shane looked at Ilya with intense need, and Ilya lined his cock with his hole before turning to the camera. “Take notes, yes?” He smiled.

Max didn’t reply. He just watched.

Shane's desire burned his skin. Ilya's determination to claim Shane, and to have the guy who fucked him watch, Shane was in awe. Ilya slowly sunk in and Shane’s head flew back against the pillows at the stretch.

“Fuckk Ilya.” He moaned.

Ilya took the opportunity to place his hands on Shane’s stomach. He bottomed out. He imagined he could feel himself stuffing Shane's insides. This is where he loved to be. Inside of Shane, with him squirming beneath him, moaning his name. Quickly, Ilya’s pace picked up, and Shane began moaning louder. If Max didn’t hear him last night. He surely did now. Ilya reveled in the fact that he made Shane so undone.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” Ilya said in between thrusts.

Max was still watching silently from FaceTime while both Ilya and Shane had forgotten his existence. Ilya leaned his entire body over Shane, folding his legs near his ears now. He somehow reached even deeper.

“He can’t fuck you like this shane.” Ilya panted, "No one can."

The intimate position had Shane’s head reeling. He nodded his head mindlessly. Ilya looked so animalistic like this. Out of breath, pupils dilated, covered in sweat, and his mouth slightly gaped. He chain dangled in his face, making him even dizzier than before. Ilya leaned down to press a kiss against Shane. Sticking his tongue deep into the man’s mouth before pulling back slightly, a string of spit breaking at the separation.

“Ya tebya lyublyu.” Ilya whispered. Shane didn't know what those words meant, but they came out so tenderly and pushed Shane closer to the edge.

“I’m so close, Ilya. Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” Shane begged.

Ilya wouldn’t stop. He continued his pace, hitting that spot so deep inside of Shane he could never reach on his own. No one would ever reach it as Ilya could. Shane lay there beneath him so beautifully. His cheeks rosy and his eyes stared up at him with pure desire.

“Fuck Shane, I love you so much,” Ilya said.

Shane attempted to pull Ilya even closer. “I love you so much, Ilya. So fucking much.” Shane moaned.

After Shane’s love confession, Max hung up the phone; neither of them realized. Too far gone in their own world. Any thoughts of Max had long been lost. Ilya’s hand came down to pump Shane’s cock a few times before Shane was spurting ropes of cum against his chest. He was trembling in Ilya’s grip, and his moans bounced off the walls, the orgasm soaring through his body. Hell, the whole floor could probably hear him.

Quickly after Shane’s release, Ilya pulled out completely, ripping the condom off to paint Shane completely in his spend. The only one who will ever get to do this. They thought. Shane loved the warm sensation of Ilya painting his body. He loved knowing he brought Ilya to this state. And Ilya loved marking Shane even more; an act of possession. Mine. He mumbled in Russian.

Ilya plopped down on top of Shane, resting his entire body weight against him, now covering both chests in their pleasure. Shane loved this part especially. After Ilya expended so much energy on him, so much passion and care, he could only go mindlessly limp on top of him. He couldn’t wait until the day he rode Ilya and did the same.

Once their breathing had normalized, Ilya looked towards the phone lazily and saw the black screen. He smirked to himself.

“No more max.” He smiled weakly into Shane’s neck.

Shane giggled as he ran fingers along Ilya’s back. “Good.” They stayed there for a few moments until the remainder of their pleasure started drying up between them.

"Moy Lyubimmy, let's get cleaned up."

N: I like where this has gone; I hope you've enjoyed it so far ;)

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