Work Text:
COTTAGE – AUGUST 2021
As Ilya walks the few steps up to their bedroom, he first notices the sunlight falling on Shane's legs. Shane is lying on his stomach, shirtless, his green shorts straining around his thighs. He is looking at his phone, scrolling through texts, unaware of Ilya's presence. Lying at his feet at the end of the bed, Anya raises her head and wags her tail happily as Ilya approaches. Shane looks at Ilya for a second and smiles quickly before focusing back on his phone. Anya stays perched on the mattress, as Ilya starts climbing onto the bed. He kneels between Shane's leg, hands on the back of his legs, and digs his fingers into the muscles.
"Move."
"Ilya... Not right now. I have emails t-"
"Shut up, Hollander. Spread your legs."
Shane does and Ilya pushes them apart further. Ilya squeezes his thighs and presses kisses on Shane's smooth skin. One on each thigh. He looks up towards Shane and bites the soft flesh gently.
"Don't."
Ilya hums in the back of his throat in response and then, turns around, lying down on his back between Shane's legs, his head on Shane's cushy ass. Ilya sighs his satisfaction and scoots back to lie comfortably. Shane huffs a laugh and rocks his hips back and forth a few times making Ilya's head move with his rhythm.
Ilya tuts and hooks his arm around Shane's thigh, his hand on his knee, while his other hand reaches up and rests between his shoulder blades, his thumb slowly stroking the skin there. Ilya sighs again, his arm straining awkwardly over Shane's back. He closes his eyes, determined to doze off right then and there, until Shane is ready to forget name and self-control under his grateful ministrations. Ilya smiles softly in expectation when Shane huffs another laugh and chuckles, moving his hips again.
"What is it?" Ilya mutters, his hand leaving Shane's knee to stroke the inside of Shane's thigh instead.
"It's Hayden!"
"Hm... great. Love the guy."
"Shut up. He's just sent a video of Amber. She's trying to get a puck in the little net we got them last year. She's so small."
"Hmm... yes. Very cute," Ilya smiles and opens his eyes, angling his head up towards Shane. "Has Hayden managed to do it?"
"Fuck you," Shane answers, making the 'you' linger in the air, and Ilya chuckles.
Ilya lifts his head for a second and looks at Anya with a soft smile, before burrowing himself back between Shane's legs with a deep annoyed sigh.
"I'm sorry. My mom sent me a whole bunch of new contracts to look over."
"Ah, yes. Shane Hollander in a Peloton ad, in a Tim Horton TV thing, going to a Rolex event, stupid article in GQ magazine. You are even more popular than before. Congratulations," Ilya says, his eyes closing again and his hand moving with the enumeration of each new upcoming public apparition Shane has agreed to since their outing.
"You were in the GQ one, too. You liked it."
Ilya huffs a laugh at the ceiling and claps his hand flat on Shane's lower back a few times, before massaging the space between the two dimples that never fails to make him soft and tender.
"I liked it because you were in it, too. And this time, I was allowed to kiss you instead of whatever we did back then."
"Back wh- oh, yeah. Face offs. It was fun!"
"Hm... and very frustrating. Too many people there. Fucked up my date completely." Ilya smiles softly when Shane's laugh rings out in their warm bedroom.
"You still got lucky!"
"Ah, yes. Very lucky," Ilya looks up, arching his neck, as Shane looks back with a tender smile.
They gaze into each other's eyes for a few seconds until Shane returns to his phone after taking a deep breath. Ilya huffs a quiet breath of his own and stretches his body, elongating his arms over Shane's back and pushing the back of his head against Shane's cheeks with a grunt. As he loosens back into his body, he runs his hands flat on Shane's shoulders and down his back, stopping above the waist.
Ilya squeezes the side of Shane's body gently and stills, blinking at the wooden ceiling above them, his fingertips idly brushing against Shane's soft warm skin. Smirking to himself, he slips his hands under Shane's stomach and squeezes the hard flesh, one of his fingers dipping under Shane's waistband.
"Ilya." Shane sounds annoyed at both Ilya and the emails monopolizing his attention, and Ilya chuckles, removing his hands and slapping Shane's back softly.
Ilya springs back up, sitting between Shane's legs, and turns around just as fast, jolting Anya awake. She jumps off the bed with a little whine as Ilya lowers himself down, face first in Shane's ass, his elbows propped up on either side of Shane's hips. He smiles softly against Shane's shorts and squeezes his boyfriend's plump cheeks, making Shane squirm unconvincingly under him.
Ilya takes a deep breath and sighs, his breath warm through the fabric of Shane's shorts. He leans back, admiring the softness of the man under him and the hard muscles underneath it all. He opens his mouth as he marvels at Shane's back. The cheeks he loves to bite, the dimples he likes to fill with his cum, the shoulders he holds onto as he pounds into Shane, the neck he covers with his lips any chance he gets.
Ilya smiles lovingly and bites his bottom lip. He rests his chin on Shane's soft cheek and replaces it with a quick kiss, before laying his own cheek on Shane's ass with a sigh. He closes his eyes softly and releases a sleepy moan.
"Are you going to fall asleep on my ass?" Shane asks.
"Probably. Don't fart on me," Ilya responds, his voice muffled by Shane's shorts but his amusement clear.
Shane laughs joyfully and rocks his hips. Ilya's hand on Shane's ass becomes more demanding, tightening its grip. Ilya groans in mock annoyance and turns his head to lay his other cheek on the round, muscular pillow under him with yet another annoyed sigh.
"You okay?"
"Yes, of course. I have the best pillow in the world," Ilya answers proudly and Shane huffs a laugh, so Ilya continues, "Don't laugh Hollander, I checked. Is the best."
"Oh you've checked, uh? The best?"
"Da... Hm..." Ilya lifts his head and shrugs," Maybe not. There was this girl in Moscow, she was-"
"Fuck you," Shane interrupts, the soft anger blooming in his voice quickly squashed by affection.
Ilya smiles, his chin planted between Shane's ass and his waist, "No. You. I would like to fuck you. So tell Yuna Hollander that I need her perfect little son to let the phone go. He's a fucking addict."
"I have two emails and then I'm done."
Ilya groans and sinks his nose between Shane's cheeks. He raises his head a second later, looking at Shane's back and asks, "How long?"
"10 minutes." Shane says as Ilya shakes his head.
"Ugh... fucking emails," he mutters and lays back down, his cheek against Shane's. Ilya closes his eyes and huffs a little breath. He rubs his thumb slowly on Shane's thigh, under the shorts, and hums an old Russian lullaby to himself.
Six minutes later, as Anya jumps back up on the bed to lie by their side, Shane looks back and smiles as Ilya's eyes stay closed, his breath slow and regular, a quiet, sleepy noise escaping his lips. Shane smiles at Anya and returns to his phone.