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“Shit!”
Shane jerked awake instantly knowing he overslept. The clock confirmed that it was nearing eight and he was supposed to meet with his mom and some new brand reps at nine. He never woke up this late, but he’d been up half the night because his stupid brain just wouldn't shut off. Body exhausted but mind in overdrive was a recurring problem.
When he jumped out of bed he immediately regretted it. His head swam and vision started to narrow to pinpricks, the only thing he could do to avoid toppling over was sway on the spot holding his head steady and wait out the light headedness.
“Shane, are you okay?” A sleepy voice croaked from the other side of the bed.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just stood up too fast. Head rush,” he whispered, hoping Ilya wouldn’t worry and study him too closely.
The past week had been crazy packed, totally throwing off his routine with no time to eat or decompress and he was reaping the rewards. He’d get through, it was just a couple more days of meetings and shoots and coffees and then he’d have a few days off.
Ilya had mentioned just yesterday that Shane looked exhausted and threatened to call Yuna to cancel all of Shane's commitments. Shane convinced him that it wasn’t necessary, promising he’d been taking care of himself and he could get through this slog. Unfortunately, there were one or two or three or four stretched truths and omissions along the way. For example, the lunch spread at the shoot yesterday didn’t have any safe foods so he’d only nibbled on some fruit. Then it had run long so he was late to a dinner where everyone was already mostly done so he’d just politely sipped on a glass of wine. Earlier in the week he completely forgot about his therapy appointment again and hadn’t rescheduled. Plus he hadn’t done his meditation or yoga all week and his brain felt like when Lockhart let the pixies out in that Harry Potter movie. Just to name a few.
Finally the dizziness passed and Shane made his way to the bathroom. Brushing his teeth he took note of the bags under his eyes and his freckles that seemed to stand out more than usual against his skin. Ilya was right, he didn’t look great. Hopefully a hot shower would help. The water did feel amazing, but rather than perk him up he nearly dozed off. He stepped out into the steamy bathroom quickly drying himself off and opened the door. The chilly air from the bedroom hit him like a physical force and knocked him off balance. His head swam again and vision narrowed into nothingness.
“Shane, lyubimyy, are you alright? Open your eyes.”
Shane blinked his eyes open and he found he was sitting on the floor in his underwear being held up by a very worried looking Ilya.
“Come kotik, let’s get you back into bed,” Ilya started to pick him up while Shane attempted to push his hands away, feeling equal measures embarrassed and guilty.
“Ilya, really I’m okay! I’m already running late, I can’t get back in bed. I think I’m just a little dehydrated. I need to g-”
“You are going nowhere but bed, Hollander. You almost faint earlier, head rush my ass, then you collapse out of the shower. What if you were in the bathroom and faint and hit your head? You are lucky I was on my way to join you. Your skin is, I don’t know what you say, cold and sweaty! You are like a ghost. I should have pushed you yesterday.”
Ilya deposited Shane onto the soft sheets, “Rest, I will bring you breakfast and water. Don’t you dare step one foot off that bed.”
Weak and stunned, Shane watched Ilya walk out of the room and pull out his phone. When he heard his mother’s name he sputtered a protest and went to give chase until Ilya popped back into the doorway, face like thunder, and pointed threateningly at him. Daring him to get up. Shane stopped just short of putting his feet on the floor before deciding that Ilya was not in the mood to be disobeyed.
“Mmhmm, yes that sounds great. I’m so sorry for the late notice but Shane is sick, can you please cancel his appointments for the next few days,” Ilya watched while a pouty Shane pulled his feet back up and lay back down on his pillow before he turned and went off, still talking to Yuna.
If he were being honest with himself, Shane was putting up a truly pathetic fight because he did feel terrible. His ears were ringing and head felt fuzzy and his stomach had that empty nausea. But it was embarrassing anyway. Quite a few schedules would be messed up because he was not a functional adult. He closed his eyes and found it helped his head a little bit, maybe he’d do some mediation while he waited for his husband to come back and release him from his pillowy prison.
Apparently he’d dozed because he was suddenly being shaken awake by Ilya and presented with an omelet with avocado.
“I’m sorry, kotik, but I want you to eat and drink a little before falling back asleep,” Ilya put the tray down and helped him sit up, his body wasn’t being very cooperative.
“Eat, finish that water, then rest.”
The simple instructions left no room for argument and for the first time in days Shane’s anxiety eased just a little. Ilya kissed Shane’s forehead while stealing his phone from the nightstand and then drew the blackout curtains, leaving Shane in the glow of his reading lamp. He vaguely wondered how many eggs and or egg whites were in the omelet before chasing that thought away. Eat, drink, rest.
Some hours later Shane padded down the stairs in his favorite pair of Ilya’s sweats feeling more alive, but his shame and guilt had not dissipated. He found Ilya sitting on his computer on the couch looking like he’d just finished his post workout shower.
“How are you feeling, malysh? Better?”
Shane nodded shyly from the doorway in response.
“You look better. You scared me this morning. Do you want to talk about it?”
Shane grimaced and shook his head, maybe Ilya would take pity on him.
“Let me ask that again, do you want to talk about it now or after lunch?”
“After,” Shane managed to mumble, words were too hard right now.
Ilya got up and led the way to the kitchen. Shane grabbed a cutting board but was quickly ordered to sit down. And when he started to complain he was told he could sit at the island, on the counter, or on the stairs, a little reminder Ilya was onto his antics. He chose the counter.
They ate in silence, with Ilya giving reassuring touches that Shane leaned into gratefully. But as their plates emptied dread pooled in Shane’s belly. It was when he started rehearsing what he’d say that tears started stinging behind his eyes and nose. Ilya would be disappointed in him, he’d broken so many rules and now he’d have to confess. Ugh. At the sound of the first sniffle Ilya called it on lunch and took their plates to the sink.
“Let’s talk, kotik,” Ilya pulled Shane to the couch and then down next to him to keep Shane from worrying about eye contact on top of everything else, “Tell me.”
“I was bad.” Shane’s muffled voice came from his face pressed against Ilya’s shoulder.
“No. I think you were naughty and broke some rules, but you were not bad, malysh.”
Shane’s face burned the way it always did when Ilya called him naughty, “Yeah. There was a lot and I hate cancelling and I got all messed up. I know I should have said something to my mom, but I feel bad when I fuck up people’s schedules!”
“Who the fuck cares about their schedules? You are Shane Hollander, husband to number one hockey player in the world. They are chasing you, you are not chasing them.” Ilya, cocky as ever, did not have the same reservations about rescheduling.
“I don’t want to inconvenience people! And I don’t want to be seen as some ‘I’m famous, I can do what I want’ person.”
“People will think what they think, but it would take a lot for people to think badly of you or else they are crazy. I would not trust them. And inconvenience?? Your health is more important to inconveniencing some fucking photographer or reporter or whatever the fuck any fucking day. But I do know you don’t like to do this, maybe we need to make sure you never have so much that it’s necessary, da? Telling me when you’re overwhelmed is rule.”
“I shouldn’t need to! I should be able-” Shane started.
“Ah ah, but you have to, because it is rule. Just have to tell me, I would not do anything you don’t want me to do. Was it lie when you promised you were taking care of yourself this week?”
Obviously, Shane thought and buried his face in Ilya’s shoulder again, only for him to grab his chin so they were face to face, “Ughhhhhhhh, yes! I’m sorry! I was stressed out and hadn’t eaten all day and barely the day before and didn’t want to get into it about what a shitshow this week was because I can’t be a real adult! And I skipped therapy the last two weeks! And my fitness app says I’ve only gotten like eleven hours of sleep in five days! There!”
It was a relief getting some of his major transgressions out at once. He peeked at his big Russian whose arm was wrapped around him making him feel safe even though he was sure this conversation would end with unpleasantness on his part. But even that would make him feel better. Ilya looked as calm and steady as always, if slightly intimidating, but that might just be because of what was coming.
“That is impressive list. You made yourself sick, kotik, not taking care of yourself. That is what rules are for. And when you lie to your husband and don’t talk to me when you’re overwhelmed it only leads to more broken rules and more trouble for you. Let’s wash this week away, da? Go upstairs and get your paddle.”
Shane gasped, he hated the paddle. But Ilya was right, he had broken literally every one of their rules and his grand finale was neglecting himself so much he passed out. His puppy dog eyes were just met with a single stern ‘go’ from Ilya. He decided his last act of naughtiness this week would be to take as long as he dared. Fuck that stupid paddle.
It turned out taking his time didn’t make Shane feel any better. And as he handed the paddle over to Ilya in full disciplinarian mode he wondered if dragging his feet had been smart.
“Good boy. Pants down and over,” Ilya directed as he laid the nasty paddle to the side.
Ready to get this whole mess behind him, Shane flew to obey. He wiggled himself comfortable and buried his face in a pillow as if he could hide from this embarrassing predicament that he’d been in too many times.
Ilya rubbed the naked ass over his lap with obvious adoration before raising his palm and cracking it down crisply. Shane flinched at the sharp sound before settling while Ilya found his rhythm. The smacks were predictable and strangely soothing. One side then the other, working down to the tops of the thighs before starting again at the top with a little more strength. The layers started to build heat until Shane couldn’t keep himself still any more. His hips jolted from side to side to avoid the persistent smacks and his legs kicked involuntarily.
“Settle,” Ilya said after a particularly big squirm, pulling Shane’s hip in securely.
“Ilyaaa, it hurts!” Shane whined.
“You are okay, warm up is almost done,” Ilya ignored the whimpers and continued his methodical attack.
While tears were starting to gather in his eyes and it was getting harder and harder to fight the urge to buck off of Ilya’s lap, Shane’s brain at least felt calm. The frantic buzzing was gone, but unfortunately his newfound focus was pulled to just one thing: his blazing ass cheeks.
The spanking paused and the room felt eerily quiet after being filled with whines, hisses, and the sound of huge palm striking bare cheek. Shane pressed his forehead into the cushion and focused on taking deep breaths, still clinging for dear life to the pillow he grabbed earlier. He flinched and tensed his whole body when the cold, unforgiving paddle rested on his backside.
“Relax. Why are you here, kotik? Is it because I am mad?” Ilya sounded gentle even though he had just spanked Shane’s ass red with plans to continue.
“Noooo. I got overwhelmed and broke all my rules instead of telling you. And lied to you about missing meals and sleeping and rescheduling therapy and then hid it from you.” Shane’s voice was muffled from speaking directly into his pillow.
“Lots of lying and deception from my good boy this week. I’m not mad, malysh, but this is consequences for breaking rules and hurting my husband. I love him very much. Maybe later you will come to me earlier so you avoid the paddle, da?”
Shane whined miserably, “Yes, sir.”
Without giving Shane time to brace himself Ilya laid down the first crack of the dreaded paddle. Shane yelped and threw his hand back immediately, but it was grabbed and held at the small of his back by his husband, eliciting another whine. The paddle came down again, long enough to hit both cheeks at once and leaving the most wicked sting in its wake. The resulting cry of shock and pain got caught in Shane’s throat but tears started leaking in earnest. He drummed his toes in an effort to do something, anything, to help the stinging inferno. The third whack drew out a sob and Shane wondered how he ever got through this.
“I’m sorry, Ilya! Please! Sir!” He cried as Ilya continued laying down the law.
“I know, malysh. You’re doing so good.” Ilya wasn’t totally unmoved by Shane’s theatrics, but he knew this was the only way to get out all the guilt and shame and frantic energy Shane was hoarding. Anything less and he would hold those feelings close and spiral again.
“No more, sir! Please! I’ll be good!” Shane begged, but when a nasty smack came across his sit spots he abandoned pleading and collapsed into sobs.
“Just a few more, kotik.”
Ilya laid down another three mean swats to his thighs and sit spots before tossing the paddle to the side. Shane didn’t even realize the spanking was over, he was so lost in his fiery misery. Ilya rubbed soothing patterns up and down Shane’s back and over his glowing ass until the cries calmed to hiccuping breaths. Slowly Shane started stirring and allowed Ilya to help him perch on his lap.
“That was mean,” he pouted.
“Hm, then you are really not going to like what happens next,” Ilya said, kissing the pout aimed at him.
“What does that mean??” Shane started to panic, what could possibly be worse?
“Now it is time to sit and write lines for me. Maybe ‘I will value my time, health, and well being and my needs are not a burden. And Ilya loves me.’” Ilya always ended Shane’s lines with ‘And Ilya loves me,' it was almost sweet if it didn't add hundreds of extra words to the lines he had to write.
“Now? I can’t!” Shane balked, there was no way he could sit.
“Yes. My good boy needs a big reminder that he’s important and I am always here for him.” Ilya grinned, “We can stay here for a little while longer but then you will do only 50 in your book because I am so kind. Then we will relax for the rest of day.”
The next steps had been laid out and Shane decided to soak in his current comfort while he could. After doing what was surely going to be the most uncomfortable lines in history, Ilya would rub lotion on his punished ass and pamper him the rest of the day so at least there was that. He tucked his head into Ilya’s broad shoulder and concentrated on the path of his husband’s hands up and down his spine, feeling like he could finally breathe.