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“i don’t know if i could do it,” shane admitted, in the post-coital tangle of their first night at the cottage. it was their second year coming here, fresh off of the announcement that ilya would be leaving the bears and signing with ottawa. they’d just gotten done with a very thorough celebration, and shane was pretty sure they were done for the time being.
“do what?”
“what you do. in the bedroom.”
“fuck you? it’s not rocket science, hollander. you make it easy.” ilya grabbed his pec affectionately. he looked up at shane, grinning wryly.
“i mean yeah. it’s the best for me, too. it’s just… impressive, i guess.” shane pressed a kiss to ilya’s hairline.
“impressive. i like that word,” ilya’s smile only widened as he preened a little, “you know, it’s not so easy being on bottom. it’s- ah, it’s a lot of trust, no? very brave, to let someone in.”
“i guess it is. i’ve never thought about it like that.”
“sometimes,” ilya began conspiratorially, like it was a secret, “i think about this.”
“about bottoming?” shane asked, surprised. they’d spent the past decade in their respective roles. a very enthusiastic decade. he knew they both enjoyed how they had sex with the same certainty that he knew they were locked into this forever thing. but all the same, ilya had a thoughtful look on his face, pensive in a way shane wasn’t all that used to.
“i have never really done it. one guy, he wanted to but i could not keep it up. like i say, it’s a lot of trust. and you don’t really like it, so.” he shrugged, making that what can you do expression that shane loved because it softened all of his features at once. it made him look very young.
“if you wanted to, i would.” shane felt confident about that. he would, even if this conversation started the way it did. when they first started hooking up, shane had hoped that ilya wouldn’t ask to switch positions, had been absurdly grateful when it never came up.
but it was different now. they were different now. they had a year of being a real, bonafied couple under their belt. he had a toothbrush and his skincare that he kept at ilya’s house, there was frozen pelmeni in the fridge in his montreal apartment, a pair of ilyas slides that lived permanently in his bedroom. for his birthday, ilya had gotten them matching snoopy and woodstock mugs. he knew how much ilya drooled in his sleep and how scared he was of spiders and how he’d always wanted a dog growing up and all of these little things about him - ilya was more than just the guy he had sex with, and he had been for a long time. if shane’s boyfriend, who he loved, wanted something - he could give it to him, damnit.
“i like what we do. why break something to fix it?” ilya said it with conviction, self-assured in a way that made shane endlessly grateful for him.
“yeah, i like it too,” shane said, and they shot each other a look that emphasized how much of an understatement that was. if not for the physical limitations of his body he’d show ilya just how much he liked it, but that was neither here nor there. they were in agreement about that, the whole exchange silent and brief. ilya broke eye contact first, shifted just a little.
maybe that was the end of the conversation, but it was one of those times where shane couldn’t make his brain move on. they were quiet for a moment. ilya settled in more, forehead pressed against shane’s neck. he took a deep breath, and shane felt his body start to relax.
“what do you think about it?” shane couldn’t help but ask. sometimes he felt like a dog with a squeaky toy, the way questions bubbled out of him. ilya inhaled audibly, blinking as if to keep himself awake.
“about what?” ilya was stifling a yawn. it was late, probably around 1:00 if shane had to guess.
“about bottoming, like why do you think about it?”
“i mean… i don’t know. just curious, maybe. i love everything we do together, but it’s just... different. a little exciting, something new. i wonder how you are. you only top for girls, yes?” shane nodded, smiling a little at the phrasing, “it’s kind of like, they see this from you but i never have.”
“it was pretty bad, to be honest with you. i don’t know if anyone enjoyed that experience - so for what it’s worth, you’re not missing out on much.” shane still felt bad about it, just a little. he’d tried to make it good for few women he’d slept with, but it could not have been great. ilya tilted his head up to look shane in the eye.
“maybe. but even if it’s bad, it’s good because it’s you and me.” ilya said it like it was simple. shane considered it. he was right, in a way. they’d had plenty of sex and pretty much all of it had been stellar, even if it wasn’t technically good. especially at the beginning, when shane didn’t really know what the hell was going on. he’d enjoyed most everything they’d tried so far, if for the simple fact that they were close to each other.
shane couldn’t help it. he kissed ilya, soft and slow.
“i love you,” ilya mumbled, and the same feeling was fierce in shane’s chest.
“i love you, too.”
they kissed just a little, hazy and soft, comforting, until ilya started snoring just a little. shane let the fondness for his boyfriend wash over him for a moment, and then reached over to turn the bedroom lamp off.
-
the first time was almost incidental. shane was between ilya’s legs, head on one of his thighs, ilya’s other foot pressed along his side. one of his hands rested between ilya’s leg and the couch, the other curled up under his chin. ilya was running his fingers along the shell of shane’s ear, that funny habit of his that shane didn’t really get but found very sweet anyways. ilya’s hair was damp from the shower they’d just taken, shiny and dark. he was wearing one of his hundreds of black tank tops and a pair of shane’s red athletic shorts, which rode up on his thighs very nicely. his leg hair was thinner and finer up top, and shane wanted to rub his face on it like a cat. he gave into the feeling just a bit.
they were half watching a soccer game with the volume down low, caught in the lazy afternoons only these couple weeks at the cottage afforded them. shane ran his hand along the outside of ilya’s thigh, feeling the flex of his toes somewhere by the hip.
“feels nice,” ilya commented, his eyes still on the tv screen.
shane idly contemplated if he wanted to do anything with the way ilya’s dick twitched in his shorts. it was right next to his face, after all. he firmed up his grip on ilya’s leg, kneading as he ran his hand up to his hip. ilya’s fingers skimmed down from shane’s ear to his jaw, feather light.
he drew his hand back, slid it underneath the leg of ilya’s shorts, pleased to find nothing but skin. he watched as ilya’s cock filled, almost obscene in his borrowed shorts. shane uncurled his hand from under his chin and rested it on ilya’s other thigh, the muscles jumping under his touch. he shifted his head so he could press his nose to ilya’s crotch, mouth slightly open, making ilya grunt. he was running his hand up and down the short hair at the back of shane’s head now, the scratch of blunt nails at the nape of his neck making him shiver.
both of shane’s hands disappeared under the legs of the shorts, shamelessly feeling him up, the tops of his thighs and then up to his hips and then he was kneading the soft flesh of his ass. ilya very helpfully pulled his knees up to grant him access. there was something heady about ilya in his clothes, a baser, possessive animal instinct that seized him at the sight. his boyfriend in his clothes that were just a touch too small for him, barely noticeable except for the stretch of the thighs or across the shoulders. shane’s dick certainly didn’t look like this in these shorts - the head of ilya’s cock was stark and straining, clear as day underneath the thin fabric. he mouthed mindlessly at it, that bright red darkening with his spit.
“fuck, shane,” ilya murmured. shane pulled his head back to look at him.
his face was flushed, his bottom lip caught in his teeth. his cross had fallen askew. his tank top had ridden up, his stomach flexing and tight.
he looked so… slutty. the word floated up, unbidden. shane’s face heated. he liked it when ilya called him slutty, but the idea of shane saying it was almost embarrassing. but then, maybe ilya would like it.
would he? the conversation they’d had last week came to the forefront of his mind. what had women seen from him, when he was with them? what was honest about it, and what was performance?
“i like these shorts on you,” he said, and ilya tipped his head back, huffing out a laugh.
“i couldn’t tell.” shane pinched his ass cheek. ilya scoffed, looking a little scandalized.
“what the fuck, hollander!” ilya squeezed him around the middle with his knees. shane felt a grin creep up on his face. he was feeling particularly… experimental. he decided to push it.
“don’t be a dick. and take your clothes off,” shane said, sitting up abruptly to yank his shirt off.
“is it a day where everything is flipped flop? upside down? you tell me what to do now, big man?” ilya complained, but he still stripped out of his clothes obediently. shane felt a thrill shoot up his spine. ilya did exactly what he told him to do, settled right back down, looking up at him so expectantly.
“you did it, though, didn’t you? cause you’re a good boy, right?” shane pulled down his shorts and then they were both naked, shane settling down between ilya’s legs again.
ilya looked at him, barking out a laugh. shane grinned, but didn't relent. he was testing it out.
“is that what this is? you want to try?” ilya asked, interest clear in his voice. of course he remembered, because ilya remembered everything shane said. he was attentive like that. shane wanted to come on his face. they had another silent exchange. ilya nodded, trying to school his expression into something less amused.
he was blushing, shane realized with immense satisfaction. blushing so hard even the tips of his ears were pink, even if he was trying to bite back a laugh. shane watched a bead of precome dribble out of his cock, which had to be something.
“answer me, ilya,” he said seriously, taking hold of ilya in his hand.
“uhm, yes?” shane pumped his hand up and down his shaft slowly, the dry drag of his fingers enough to make ilya inhale sharply.
“say it.”
“what - that i am a good boy?” he said, still with a hint of amusement. shane looks right into his eyes, lowered his head, and sucked his cock into his mouth. ilya made a punched out, shocked sound, staring right back at shane. his other hand was still on ilya’s ass, and he pulled a little to spread his cheeks. ilya’s brow drew together, lips parted, eyes trained on shane with a hawklike intensity. his hand was still so gentle in shane’s hair. it was not enough.
shane was possessed by the idea of making it good for his boyfriend, something calm and focused falling over him like a blanket. it felt like a switch being turned on, the analytical part of his brain firing on all cylinders, all dialed into what might make ilya come undone.
he opened his throat and took ilya as deeply as he could, appreciating the restraint he could feel in ilya’s glutes to not immediately thrust up. it made shane press his hips into the couch, leather be damned.
“shit, oh fuck,” ilya gasped, the fingers in his hair tightening. shane loved everything about this, loved his boyfriend’s big cock and his hairy legs and his fucking ridiculous ass. the best in the league, shane would say, though he was incredibly biased.
he pressed his thumb against ilya’s hole, against the sensitive ring of muscle. just gentle, exploratory. ilya’s breath hissed between his teeth. shane hesitated, pulling off his cock to look at him - they’d only talked about it a little, hadn’t really gotten into the logistics of it all.
“come on hollander, you scared now, boss man?” ilya taunted him, and it stirred something hot in shane’s gut. how would someone in this position respond? shane sat up, grabbed ilya’s jaw, and looked at him. something in his face made ilya’s smile drop, like their first match when shane got the jump on him at the first face-off, like they’d tuned into the same radio frequency. his eyes were glazed over, how they got when he was really turned on.
“turn around,” shane said, barely recognizing his own voice.
ilya did it, got on his hands and knees. shane rose up with him, feeling dizzy with power. wondered if this is how ilya feels all of the time, had maybe never understood him more. he couldn’t believe it was working. he felt like pumping his fist and cheering, but that might kill the mood.
instead, he touched ilya. oh his back and on his waist, kissed the moles there, took ahold of the aforementioned best ass in the league. fuck it, he gave him a little slap, earning him a low, warning grunt. shane spread his ass with purpose, thumbs resting on his hole. ilya sucked in a harsh breath. shane took stock for a moment, understood the vulnerability in this positioning. ilya swore, resting his forehead in the crook of his arm. the back of his neck flushed.
“are you feeling shy, baby?” shane asked, soft, pressing a kiss to the bottom of ilya’s spine.
“a little,” ilya replied, voice so raw. shane petted his back soothingly.
“we can stop, if you want,” shane offered, but ilya shook his head.
“no. it’s just… intense. i want you,” he mumbled, and there was that fearsome ache in shane’s chest again as he recognized it for what it was. the man he loved was surrendering to him. it was a rare side of ilya that he never really saw aside from emotional conversations, when he needed something and could not ask for it. maybe he’d wanted this for longer than shane thought. he ran a hand up ilya’s back, squeezed his shoulder.
“you have me. always. you’re doing so good for me, baby.” ilya whimpered, rubbing his face into his elbow. it felt almost inappropriately cute - shane wanted to eat him.
he reached for the lube they keep beside the couch and poured some on his fingers. warming it up between his fingers before massaging the rim of ilya’s hole. he reached his other hand around and wrapped his fingers in a loose circle around ilya’s half hard dick as he pressed his middle finger into him, slowly, patiently. he could feel ilya trembling minutely, the way his body slowly gave, slowly accepting him. he pumped his finger in and out in shallowly, up to the second knuckle. he curled it, searching, and then - ilya stiffened, and exhaled in one big, shaky whoosh of breath. there it was.
shane added another finger. and then another, after the glide in and out of ilya’s body became smooth, easy. he found a good rhythm, one that had ilya making those involuntary uh uh uh sounds as he brushed his prostate. he was really fucking tight.
“so hot, just for me, do you think you can come like this?” shane asks, dropping a kiss on the swell of his ass, and ilya shuddered.
“yes, only for you. feels good.” ilya panted, rocking his hips back to meet his thrusts. it was easy now, to imagine it. the feeling of ilya around him, the heat of his body. shane’s neglected cock throbbed suddenly - he’d nearly forgotten about himself.
now that he was thinking about it, it felt like he couldn't stop. he could fuck him with his fingers no problem - but he was curious now. there was something undeniable about the appeal of being the first person to do this with ilya, who had already had so many firsts by the time they met. not that any of it mattered, of course. none of them had him like shane did. they would never have forever with this beautiful, incredible man. but shane, shane was staring down the barrel of forever every time ilya looked at him.
plus, it was really hot. he was becoming more and more convinced that fucking him was an amazing idea, the more ilya lost his control. he wished he could see his face, but the way he pushed back on shane’s fingers and moaned with abandon made him think he should keep doing exactly what he was doing.
he focused all of his attention on his hands. though he was inexperienced in this particular act, he knew what he liked and tried to replicate it. he had, after all, been practicing his hand-eye coordination for his entire life. and he’d spent the better part of a decade getting better at having sex with this particular man, so when ilya started swearing and grinding out broken phrases, shane was certain he was close.
“fuck, shane, don’t stop. oh god, oh fuck -“ and there it was, the sudden tightness around shane’s hand. he felt hot come spill all over the fingers of his other hand. the sound ripped from ilya rozanov would haunt him, hoarse and loud and unexpectedly long. shane again felt the impulse to say that was awesome or take a picture or something absurd. it felt like a revelation. ilya slumped against the couch, body loose and relaxed. he looked all fucked out. shane gently pulled his fingers out, entranced by the way ilya twitched and groaned at it. both of his hands were a mess, one with come, one slick with lube. he got up and stood above ilya, whose face was pressed into the couch.
“turn your head, handsome.” shane was again alight with pleasure when, at the command, ilya turned his head and his hazy eyes towards him. shane carefully pressed his come covered fingers to ilya’s mouth. he cleaned them greedily, eyes hooded and unfocused. shane palmed himself with his other hand. ilya reached out, fingers clumsy against shane’s naked thigh, a low noise of protest in his throat. shane shushed him, pulled his fingers out of his mouth. he ran his spitty hand through ilya’s still damp hair, since they were going to have to shower again anyway, and began jerking off furiously as ilya watched, the hand on his leg tightening as shane hurtled quickly towards the edge.
“do it,” ilya said thickly, “want your come on me. next time you do it inside. you want, yes?”
“fuck, oh my god, yeah, gonna come all over you, paint your insides, jesus christ -“
his heart felt like it was beating out of his dick. it was maybe a minute total, the obscene wet noise from shane’s lubed up hand and his fast, labored breathing filling the room, until shane came explosively all over ilya’s waiting face. it went everywhere. it was on the couch behind him, on ilya’s eyelashes and his mouth and his cheek. shane’s chest was heaving like he’d just run a marathon. he dropped to his knees, taking ilya’s face in his hands and kissing him, tongue in his mouth.
-
after they’d cleaned up using shane’s leather-specific cleaning wipes and taken a quick rinse in the shower, they laid in bed together. ilya was spooning him, warm and solid. it was just turning dark out, and they’d need to eat something soon, but they weren't in a hurry.
“so, what’s your verdict?” he asked, suddenly nervous. all of that bravado had left his body as soon as they fully settled in.
“hm. was good. kind of like taking a vacation, you know? not where you live, but fun to visit.” ilya nosed at the nape of his neck. shane relaxed, not realizing he’d tensed up so much.
“yeah. that’s a good way to put it. it seemed like you were really into it.”
“i did not know it could be so… uhm, how do you say it? make you feel like you’re going to come. felt like that.”
“edging i think. and you liked it?”
“obviously, hollander,” ilya scoffed. his breath was warm on shane’s skin. shane hummed in agreement. he was filing that tidbit away when his boyfriend spoke up again.
“i like when you call me baby,” ilya admitted, that shade of shyness back in his voice, “it’s nice.”
shane picked up his hand from where it rested on his chest and kissed his wrist.
“if all it took to get you all sweet like this is some fingers in your ass, i would’ve done it eight years ago,” shane joked, and they both laughed. he turned around in his arms and they looked at each other for a long moment.
“do you feel different?” shane asked, because maybe he did, just a little. it wouldn’t change what they did usually - shane lived for the moments where ilya took him apart, held him down and fucked him. but he’d liked this a lot too, and he’d liked ilya’s reaction to it more than anything. he wanted to take care of him, probably until one of them died.
“hm, maybe. it’s nice. no one else has ever touched me this way. makes me wish everything was like that. not like i regret anything, but you know. feels special.”
“yeah, i know what you mean. thank you for trusting me.” shane had always been grateful that ilya had been his first real sexual partner. ilya wrapped him up in his arms.
“you keep my big secret from everyone in the world since i know you, shane hollander. no one else i trust more.” ilya said into his hair, and shane sighed. he could not physically summon the strength to be anxious here in his favorite place, even about the future.
“that’ll be the one good thing about retiring. no more secrets.”
“yes, we each win six cups, then we get married and make more babies than pike.” ilya ducked down to kiss him, but shane pushed his face away.
“fuck off, rozanov.”
“i am serious, i need enough for a full tea -“ shane cut him off with a hand over his mouth.
“please shut up,” shane begged, only half joking. ilya stuck his tongue between shane’s fingers, earning him an indignant yelp. they wrestled for a bit, which ended as it usually did, with ilya pinning shane into the mattress.
“hello there,” ilya said affectionately, breathless.
“hi baby,” shane whispered, and marveled at the way ilya turned rosy in the half light of the approaching evening. he ducked his head into the crook of shane’s neck. shane cupped the back of his head, smiling stupidly at the ceiling.
“let’s make dinner, okay?” shane said into ilya’s hair. he felt ilya nod, so bashful, and felt like they certainly had more to explore.
which they would do, enthusiastically. and thoroughly. they had another week, and the rest of their lives for it.