Chapter Text
There were many parts of being out with Ilya that Shane adored.
Going to restaurants together, unbothered by people recognizing them.
Sharing chaste kisses at the club that held promises of more to come.
Ilya sneaking up to him at practice and possessively grabbing him by the waist, his fingers slinking their way under his jersey till he smacked them away.
Finding himself tagged on Ilya’s Instagram.
Being able to hold him in public, fingers gently tangling together while taking Anaya out on walks in parks populated with families, casually strolling into airports, theaters, and hotels together. Aware of cameras flashing at them, but being unbothered by it.
This was perhaps his favourite; he thought fervently to himself as he watched Ilya dress for a night at the kingfisher.
Something about being out and truly himself had flipped a switch in his boyfriend. He had always been one to indulge in luxury; fancy cars and expensive perfumes were nothing new for Ilya, but the smudged black liner around his gorgeous eyes, the whisper of glitter brushed meticulously across his cupid’s bow, the gold choker layered with his cross, and the deep V of a satin sleeveless top that left just enough to the imagination were new. They left Shane squirming in his pants.
‘Like what you see, Hollander?’
Ilya smirked at him in the mirror.
Shane could see himself turn into an embarrassing shade of red.
He turned around and sauntered up to him and took his face in his large hand, gold rings glinting on his fingers.
‘No, no, look at me moye solnyshko, I like how you look like you can eat me, like a, ummm big animal, eat other…..’
‘Predator’ Shane supplied breathlessly, always eager to please.
‘ Da, that,’ he leaned in to kiss Shane, licking into his mouth.
Shane’s hand travelled a well-travelled path from his hair to his waist and then lower. His breath hitched when he realized he couldn’t feel the band of his boxers or even any underwear.
‘Ily…’
Ilya moved down to nibble at his Adam’s apple gently.
‘Rose told me where to get thong.’ He mumbled against his throat.
’Less to remove later,’ he teased before reclaiming his lips.
‘And I am the predator?’
Shane kissed the mole on his cheek. He could feel himself harden against Ilya’s leg, which was deliciously pressing against his groin. He moved to the side of Ilya's neck, leaving a bruising kiss.
He felt Ilya sigh.
He took a step back, admiring the bruise blooming against his pale throat, ‘so, no one forgets. They can look at you, but you are mine, only mine.’
There were many parts of being out with Ilya that Shane adored.
But this, he thought, looking at Ilya with love-drunk eyes, hair ruffled, breathing laboured, ready to walk into the world, more himself than he was before, was quite possibly his favourite.