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Summary
It pays to show your gratitude, if it’s truly there. It pays to give back. It is not enough to simply press his hips against the backs of Hollander’s thighs and let himself sink into the luscious heat, mindless, not without doing his due diligence, if not to Hollander then to the One who is allowing him to be here, now, and have this. He starts with the sole of Hollander’s foot; thumb digging into the curve of his arch, the delicate, protruding bone of his ankle. The muscles of his calves, flexing under the touch of his hands, the thick curves filling out both palms, until Hollander’s breath catches. Then, Ilya soothes him with fingers trailing up, resting on his thighs, almost too thick for his hands to cup, a headrush to hold onto the strong bulk of them, and knowing that they would spread open for him in a heartbeat if he were to simply nod a certain way. Kneading and massaging, and Hollander’s arms do not look as steady as they did before, though he hides it well, and it’s not his fault that Ilya can tell, there’s nothing he could’ve done differently to conceal it.
or, for Lent, Ilya struggles to give up Shane