Adult Content Warning
This work could have adult content. If you continue, you have agreed that you are willing to see such content.
-
Tags
Summary
Shane’s eyes drop down, landing on Ilya’s mouth—except all that does is bombard him with fifty different images of what Ilya’s lips would look like with saliva dripping down his chin, cheeks rosy-red, gazing up at Shane with hazy, galaxy eyes as he lies naked and ruined in their sheets.
And then, because Shane never learned how to control his lovesick mind when it comes to Ilya, that thought is immediately accompanied by the image of Ilya all fucked-out, his blushing face panting with the exertion of keeping his thighs spread, of being taken apart. He thinks about Ilya moaning and whimpering, hole fluttering helplessly as Shane teases it with his tongue, his fingers, his cock, thinks about Ilya begging for him, to let him cum—
“Shane?”
—and suddenly Shane’s hungry in a completely different way.
(It’s 8:02 in the morning when Shane watches Ilya sleep—dead to the world, curls a mess, with drool dripping down pink lips and onto their silk pillows—and thinks, I want to fuck my boyfriend.)