Chapter Text
August 2017, Lanaudière, Quebec
Ilya understood why Shane loved it here. The cottage was every bit as peaceful as Shane had promised it would be, and their time together had been perfect, even if it had involved a lot more plotting and planning than either of them had initially expected.
At first, two weeks of uninterrupted time together had felt blissfully endless. But Ilya and Shane had since devised their plan for the future, and soon, the time they had meant to spend relaxing and enjoying each other had become a strategic scheduling session under the keen oversight of Yuna Hollander.
The next eighteen months were meticulously plotted out. Ilya would finish his contract with Boston, become a free agent and sign with Ottawa. Only then, after Ilya's first season with Ottawa was over, would they announce the Irina Foundation and begin dismantling their rivalry. Shane had even gone so far as to cross-reference their team schedules for the upcoming season so they could decide on the best dates to visit each other.
During one such planning session, Yuna had insisted Ilya spend the holidays with them in Ottawa. The suggestion had been followed by silence, and Yuna must have suspected she'd misstepped because she'd quickly excused herself to the bathroom.
'This is a lot.' Ilya said once she was out of earshot.
Shane leaned on the kitchen counter, frowning at his laptop and at the shared Google calendar he'd insisted they set up to track their road-trips and matches. Shane looked up at him, and even behind his glasses, Ilya could see a flicker of worry in his eyes.
'Too much? I... I understand if you don't want to spend the holidays with me and my...'
'No,' Ilya chuckled, cutting him off. Why did Shane always assume the worst?
'That is nice. I very much want to holiday with the Hollanders.' He sang the last four words like they were the title of a Hallmark movie.
'Then... what?' Shane asked, removing his glasses to look at Ilya more intently.
'Your parents. They care.'
Shane frowned, still not understanding where Ilya was going with this.
'It is a lot but in a good way...'
Ilya sighed out his confession, and Shane saw a twinkle in Ilya's eyes that he'd not seen there in a while.
Oh, Ilya. Shane stepped towards him, his hand reaching out to stroke the back of Ilya's arm as he leaned into him. Ilya tilted his head down to Shane's, and their foreheads met as they breathed each other in.
Shane felt like such an idiot. This winter would be the first since Ilya's father had passed away. He knew Ilya likely never went back to Russia for the holidays, the NHL schedule barely allowed any downtime over the festive season, but still... It would be the first one since.
'I'm sorry. I didn't think...' Shane whispered.
'It's ok.' Ilya murmured back. 'I didn't either, not really. It just hit me.'
Ilya closed his eyes, trying to fight back the sudden swell of emotion.
'I just feel lucky, is all.' Ilya added.
And fuck if Shane didn't feel lucky too. He smiled up at Ilya and watched as his boyfriend's solemn face suddenly split into a crooked smile.
'Do we need to set time for Skype calls now, or should we wait for Yuna to come back for that?'
Shane's nose scrunched up in that adorable way it always did when he was battling too many concurrent thoughts. But when Ilya wagged his eyebrows suggestively, Shane understood his meaning and attempted to roll his eyes in frustration.
'I think we can keep that part of the schedule a bit more spontaneous. Don't you?'
Ilya bit his lower lip in a way that made Shane wish his mother would never come out of the bathroom.
'Yes.' Ilya nodded as his smile turned into a smirk, 'Also, it is easy to remember if I make it part of routine, yes? Shower, brush teeth, call Shane, jerk off, call Shane to jerk off...'
He listed away and Shane blushed as he poked Ilya furiously in the chest.
'Stop that.' He hissed.
And that's when Yuna had finally returned from the bathroom, her steps echoing loudly down the hall in warning. Shane had jolted back from under Ilya's looming figure, but Yuna had given no sign that she'd noticed anything unusual between them.
Shane'd had some choice words for Ilya when Yuna had finally left an hour later, but Ilya had only beamed at him. Seeing Shane so frustrated did anything but discourage Ilya. He loved how much he could get under Shane's skin, and every time he did, Ilya could feel a battle of opposing wills raging in Shane's head. One part of Shane wanted his boyfriend to never stop teasing him like this, the other was still stuck on telling his rival to fuck off. Ilya hoped that would never change. Although he guessed it already had, because through every protest Shane made, Ilya could still see how Shane truly felt. He loved him. Shane Hollander loved him.
After Shane had admonished Ilya sufficiently for making phone-sex jokes within earshot of his mother, Ilya had stunned him by revealing he'd moved his return flight to Boston by a week. Every hint of frustration in Shane had dissipated. The smile that split across Shane's face had Ilya's heart singing, and Ilya hadn't been able to stop himself. He'd hoisted Shane onto the kitchen counter and tasted him deeply. And he hadn't stopped there.
As the first week had melted into the second, Ilya had felt torn between wishing time would stand still and hoping the next eighteen months would hurry the hell up. It seemed Shane was consumed by similar thoughts because he couldn't get enough of Ilya. He wanted Ilya's mouth, his fingers and his cock constantly, and Ilya was only happy to oblige.
Ilya was pretty sure that at this point, he'd fucked Shane on every surface of the cottage. Or at least, every surface that could hold the weight of two NHL centres. They'd learned the hard way that the bench in the boathouse could not, but at least trying had been fun, and it hadn't stopped either of them from finding release. They'd wasted so much time over the last decade. They would never waste time again.
Despite making the most of their time together, a sense of unease had begun settling in Ilya over the course of the last week. Ilya had woken every morning convinced it had all been a dream. He'd stirred and expected to be alone in his condo in Moscow or his apartment back in Boston. But day after day, the sun had shone through the window of Shane's bedroom, and he'd been here. Lying next to him with sun-kissed freckles and sleepy sex-drunk eyes, Shane had always been there. He loved him. Shane Hollander fucking loved him.
But this morning had been different. Ilya had been up before dawn, told himself he needed a cigarette and snuck out of bed, careful not to wake Shane. He'd gone out to the patio and settled on one of the Adirondack loungers. Once he'd smoked one cigarette, the sky had begun to brighten, so he'd told himself he might as well have another and watch the sun rise. The truth was, Ilya knew he would never be able to get back to sleep. Not today, not on the last day.
A shiver ran through Ilya. The sun had almost fully risen, but the portion of the patio where Ilya sat was still in shadow. His third cigarette had gone out, so he pressed it against the armrest of the lounger, making sure it was fully extinguished.
'I saw that!'
Ilya turned. Shane was standing by the patio door. His dark eyes were puffy from sleep, and his hair was a tangled mess. He was wrapped in a blanket, which Ilya recognised as one of the throws from the couch inside. He looked grumpy and sleepy, but Ilya felt his heart leap at the sight of him. Ilya's thoughts must have shown in his expression, because Shane softened.
'What?'
'You look... adorable.' Ilya said the last word in Russian and bit his lower lip.
Shane blushed and Ilya knew he'd won him over.
'If you're going to smoke, at least don't put it out on my furniture.' Shane tried and failed to sound stern.
'Come here.' Ilya said, reaching an arm towards him.
Shane obliged, and Ilya noticed his legs were bare under the blanket. He'd likely woken up, realised Ilya was gone, panicked and immediately come to look for him. Suddenly, Ilya understood why Shane had sounded so grumpy just moments before, aside from the cigarettes of course.
'I woke up and you were gone.' Shane confirmed.
Ilya shifted his legs on the lounger, making room so Shane could perch on the leg rest.
'You found me.' Ilya sang, reaching his arms towards Shane.
He placed one hand on Shane's knee and cupped Shane's cheek with the other, stroking his freckles with his thumb. Shane shuddered.
'You're freezing.'
Shane wasn't wrong. Ilya had snuck out in nothing but his workout shorts, and even though it was early August, the morning still had a sharp chill to it.
'Well, heat me up, Hollander.' Ilya growled.
Ilya's hand travelled from Shane's cheek and stroked the back of Shane's neck. He began to pull Shane in for a kiss, but Shane pushed him away. There was no strength behind Shane's movements, but Ilya paused.
'Why did you come out here?' Shane asked.
Ilya exhaled. He really didn't want to talk about this.
'I needed a cigarette.'
Shane raised an eyebrow. He'd seen the other two cigarette butts in the glass Ilya had used as an improvised ashtray.
'I couldn't sleep, ok?' Ilya admitted.
'Why?' Shane's voice was a whisper.
He knew why, but he still wanted to hear Ilya say it.
'I leave today.' Ilya said, and there was a sadness to him that Shane knew only too well.
'I know.' Shane said softly.
'And maybe I don't want to.' Ilya confessed, and fuck if Shane's heart didn't sink and skip a beat all at the same time.
Shane still couldn't fathom how they'd ended up here. How could this infuriating and devastatingly beautiful man be his boyfriend? Who was he kidding? He didn't care how they had got here. Shane was just happy they had arrived.
'Maybe I don't want you to go either.' Shane said.
Something stirred in Ilya, and he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
'Kidnapping me would improve Montreal's chances of getting to the Playoffs, yes?'
Shane chuckled, and the sound warmed every inch of Ilya's bare skin.
'Yes, that's the only reason I can think of keeping you here.'
'Ouch!' Ilya drawled with pretend indignation. 'It's not my charming personality? Or my good looks?'
Shane fought and failed to hide a smirk, and Ilya took it as an answer. He reached for Shane again, and this time Shane didn't pull away. Ilya shifted his legs, allowing room for Shane to join him on the lounger. Shane followed his movements, hoisting his own legs up onto the leg rest and scooting back towards Ilya.
Ilya wrapped his arms around Shane's chest and pulled him closer. His back was perfectly aligned with Ilya's torso, and Shane relaxed into him. For a few moments, he revelled in the comforting weight of Ilya's biceps draped across his chest and shoulders.
Shane still had the blanket wrapped around him, but Ilya didn't mind. He wanted to hold Shane as close as possible, but he also didn't want Shane to be cold. Ilya rested his chin on Shane's shoulder and leaned his temple against Shane's. Their cheeks grazed, and the chill of Ilya's cold cheek against Shane's own warm one sent a thrilling shiver through Shane. A small gasp escaped him, and Ilya raised an eyebrow.
'Don't get any ideas. You're just cold.' Shane chortled.
'Ok...' Ilya hummed, but he didn't seem fully convinced.
Shane shifted in his seat, and Ilya released him just enough to allow Shane to remove the blanket from around his shoulders and drape it over both of them. Ilya took the opportunity to wrap his large hands around Shane's waist and pull him even closer. The gesture was unbelievably tender, and Shane let Ilya lift him until he was cradled against Ilya's lap.
He reclined against Ilya, but this time there was no blanket between them, and he felt another shiver as the warm skin of his back rested against Ilya's naked chest.
'Just cold, yes?' Ilya teased.
'Yes.' Shane said forcefully.
Instinctively, Shane rolled his head back, resting his neck on Ilya's shoulder and turning his face towards Ilya's. Ilya was staring at him, and there was something almost unbearably intimate in his hazel eyes. Shane never wanted to look away, but he was worried if he kept his stare too long he might combust. Ilya flicked Shane's nose with the tip of his own, and Shane expected him to lean in for a kiss but Ilya paused, his lips stopping just short of Shane's mouth.
Shane let out a demanding hum and Ilya smirked. Shane felt the heat of Ilya's breath against his mouth and it was intoxicating. Shane's eyes drifted to Ilya's plush lips and in response Ilya's hands tightened around Shane's waist. His fingertips ran along the waistband of Shane's boxer briefs as Ilya held him even closer.
'It's good...' Ilya murmured.
Their lips were so close that Shane felt the light scratch of Ilya's stubble against his chin as he spoke.
'What?' Shane breathed.
'That you are wearing these.'
Ilya's thumbs pressed under the waistband of Shane's briefs and then flicked up, causing the band to snap against Shane's stomach. The light tap sent a jolt through Shane's abdomen and he felt his balls tighten.
'Oh.' Shane breathed.
'Because you are cold, yes?' Ilya smirked.
But before Shane could admonish him, Ilya leaned in, kissing Shane just below the mouth. Their eyes locked, and Ilya didn't look away as he began to trail kisses away from Shane's mouth, down his cheek and over his jaw. With every kiss, Ilya could sense Shane fighting to hold back a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. Ilya knew it was perverse how much he enjoyed this, seeing Shane suffer through his teasing kisses and touches, but he couldn't stop. And Shane held himself back, refusing to give Ilya the satisfaction of knowing just how much he was affecting him. Game on.
As Ilya's mouth traced over Shane's jawline, Shane felt the hint of Ilya's bottom teeth against the underside of his jaw. Shane inhaled sharply, and Ilya's mouth moved into a crooked smile.
'So sensitive to cold.'
'Shut up.' Shane breathed, but there was no conviction to his words.
Shane watched Ilya's head dip as he continued his trail of kisses. His lips ran over the hollow of Shane's throat and finally settled on the sensitive patch of skin where Shane's neck met his collarbone. Ilya ran his tongue over the spot, and Shane's back arched as he gasped.
'Tell me, Hollander...' Ilya drawled against Shane's neck. 'Are you still cold?'
Shane stifled a whimper as Ilya licked over the same sensitive spot.
'Or maybe it's too hot now, yes?'
Ilya's thumbs pressed against Shane's hips and hooked underneath the waistband of his briefs again. For the life of him, Shane couldn't think of a reply. Instead, a hollow grunt escaped him as Ilya's thumbs began to scratch along the muscles that ran from Shane's hips to his groin.
'Is that a yes or a no?'
Shane wanted to say It's a hurry-the-hell-up, but again he didn't want to give Ilya the satisfaction. Ilya slowly dragged the waistband down, and Shane felt his cock harden against the cotton of his briefs.
'I think...' Ilya drawled, 'It's a yes.'
Ilya pulled the briefs lower, and Shane's cock sprang from the waistband and audibly slapped against Shane's abdomen. The sound made Ilya's thumbs pause and Shane held his breath.
'Sounds like a yes.' Ilya teased.
'Fuck you, Rozanov.' Shane groaned.
Ilya chuckled into the crook of Shane's neck, and it was the best and most infuriating sound Shane had ever heard. Shane angrily arched into Ilya, purposefully pressing his ass against Ilya's groin. Ilya fell silent and Shane knew he'd hit his mark.
'You play dirty, Hollander.' Ilya's voice was a dark husk.
Shane rocked his hips again and felt the outline of Ilya's cock begin to harden like steel against his ass. Ilya let out a shuddering gasp, and Shane felt the scratch of Ilya's teeth against the spot he had been licking just moments before.
'You're one to talk.' Shane taunted, but his voice had none of the sharpness he'd been hoping for.
Shane rolled his hips again, and this time he traced the full length of Ilya's hard cock through his shorts. Ilya groaned, and his palms flattened against Shane's thighs, pulling him closer as Shane rocked against his lap. Ilya's thumbs still pinched the waistband of Shane's briefs, and Shane whimpered as it pressed into his balls and against the base of his shaft. Ilya noticed and halted.
'Good?'
'Yes...' Was all Shane managed.
Out of the corner of his eye, Shane saw Ilya's crooked smile. He felt his heart swell. He was so fucking hot, and Shane gave in. Shane's mouth crashed into Ilya's smile. He felt the familiar warmth of Ilya's tongue meeting his, and Shane didn't care that he could taste the cigarette smoke on him. He was hungry for anything and everything Ilya could give him.
Holding the kiss, Shane leaned his shoulders against Ilya's chest and lifted his pelvis, giving Ilya enough room to drag Shane's briefs over his ass and down his thighs. Ilya pulled the briefs down his quads until he reached Shane's knees. The waistband pinched Shane's legs together and Shane fell back onto Ilya's lap with a gentle thud. Ilya broke the kiss with a grunt.
'Sorry! Did I hurt...' But Shane's voice trailed away as he saw Ilya's gaze fix past Shane's.
With a jut of his chin, Ilya pointed to where he wanted Shane to look. Shane turned and saw. At some point, Ilya had thrown the blanket off them and Shane now lay completely exposed atop Ilya. His bare ass was pressed against Ilya's crotch in a way that forced Shane to arch against him. In this position, every ripple of taut muscle beneath his perfect and naturally hairless chest and abdomen was on full display. His lean, muscular legs were cradled between Ilya's thick and equally muscular thighs, and Shane was struck by just how perfectly they fit together.
Ilya's thumbs were still hooked on the waistband of Shane's briefs, but he seemed to have no desire to pull them further down Shane's legs. His gaze was fixed on Shane's cock with a hunger that made Shane hold his breath. His hairless balls were tight and tense, and his cock was ready. Shane's dick jutted out above his stomach, the glistening head resting on Shane's lower abdomen and pointing up to where Ilya observed it with a growling hunger. Shane felt Ilya's abs tighten against his back as Ilya let out a sharp exhale.
'Fuck, Hollander...'
At the lustful drawl of Ilya's voice, any trace of embarrassment ruminating in Shane gave way to a spasm of desire. Shane's cock twitched, and Ilya let out a hum as he began to trail his hands up the length of Shane's thighs and towards his crotch in a torturously slow stroke. Shane whimpered as Ilya's hands left goosebumps in their wake.
'Look at you. So hard. So perfect.'
Ilya was transfixed by Shane's cock. Shane had confessed he'd fantasised about being fucked by him outside, but Ilya had believed Shane had just been wrapped up in the heat of the moment. Ilya had thought that at best Shane would have let him fuck him against a tree behind the boathouse. But on the patio in plain view of the lake and the cottage? This was definitely not what Ilya had pictured. But he was delighted to be wrong.
Ilya's large, powerful hands finished their ascent across Shane's thighs.
'Such a slutty little show-off.' Ilya growled again, and his fingers tightened on Shane's hips.
Ilya bucked against Shane, and Shane felt the outline of his cock rub against him through Ilya's shorts. Ilya was definitely fully erect now, and when he moaned the sound was heaven to Shane's ears. Shane's own cock was bobbing in the cold morning air, and a heady panic began to rise within him. He needed to be touched. Shane lifted his hand from where it rested on the armrest, making to reach for his throbbing cock, but Ilya noticed and paused.
'Uh, uh, uh.' Ilya tutted. 'No touching.'
Shane's hand fell back onto the armrest, gripping it tightly in resignation. His knuckles went white as he fought to restrain himself.
'You do it then.' Shane huffed.
'So bossy, my...'
But Ilya's words were cut short as Shane arched his back, pressing his ass against the seam of Ilya's shorts and Ilya went wild. Ilya let out a deep guttural groan before nipping his teeth at the side of Shane's neck. He rolled his hips into Shane with force, and Shane felt Ilya's finger tips reach over his hips to the inside of his thighs. Shane let out a whimper as Ilya massaged his upper thighs, Ilya's fingertips pressing into the muscles inches from Shane's groin. But still, Ilya wouldn't touch Shane's cock.
'Too easy...' Ilya purred, but the taunting playfulness in his voice was undercut by his jagged breath.
Shane had the instinct to yell at Ilya to touch him already, but before he could get the words out Ilya's hands returned to Shane's hips. He gripped him forcefully and began to drag Shane over the bulge in his shorts. Ilya shuddered at the friction, and Shane felt himself melt into every inch of Ilya's hard cock. Shane was powerless and loved it. As Ilya rocked against him, Shane's own cock began to bounce and slap against his stomach. Shane gripped the armrests as he fought every instinct to stroke himself.
'Please...' Shane begged, and Shane didn't care that it was humiliating.
'What, Hollander?' Ilya growled.
Ilya's hands shifted, spreading Shane's ass as he continued to rub against him. Shane felt so utterly exposed, but he didn't care.
'I need...' Shane whimpered, 'Please, I need to...'
'Not as much as I do.'
Ilya's hands moved from Shane's ass and Shane felt a momentary tug of sorrow and longing at the disappearance of his touch. But then, Ilya's right hand trailed along Shane's stomach and dipped between Shane's muscular thighs. Shane suddenly felt certain he'd erupt if Ilya did so much as breathe on his dick. But the panic subsided as Ilya's fingers trailed soft circles over the inside of Shane's right thigh and finally, his thumb rolled over the seam of his balls. Shane jerked, his hips rising slightly into the touch of Ilya's hand. His shoulders pressed into Ilya's chest, and Shane hid his face against Ilya's throat.
'Oh my God. I... Fuck...' Shane's voice trailed off.
He had no idea what he was saying, and he knew it was ridiculous to be this worked up over so little. Ilya pressed the gentlest of kisses to Shane's forehead and cupped Shane's balls, his thumb raking over the base of Shane's cock with a tauntingly slow stroke.
'So eager.' Ilya rasped through panting breaths.
Shane took a moment to calm the fuck down before lowering his hips back onto the lounger. As he settled, Shane arched his back against Ilya again and, to his surprise, felt the knuckles of Ilya's left hand rub against his lower back.
'What? Oh.'
Shane peered over his shoulder and saw what. At some point while Shane had bucked above the lounger, Ilya had unsheathed his own cock from his shorts. Ilya was now gripping his thick uncut cock with long loose strokes, his tip nudging against Shane's lower back.
'I thought you said no touching.' Shane did his best impression of Ilya's Russian accent.
Ilya flashed Shane his crooked smile and Shane's heart swelled. Ilya's usually bright hazel eyes were dark and glazed with lust, and Shane couldn't help but get lost in them. Ilya's lips were wet and swollen from nipping at Shane's neck, and he was so fucking beautiful. Shane felt his cheeks heat under the intensity of Ilya's stare, and it must have done something to Ilya because Shane suddenly felt Ilya's fingers travel from his balls to his shaft.
'Fair is fair.' Ilya teased.
Shane let out a high-pitched whimper as Ilya's fingers wrapped around his cock and he began to jerk him off. Ilya fisted himself against Shane's back and responded with a guttural moan. Ilya's right hand ran loose, long strokes over the length of Shane's shaft until a drop of pre-come appeared in the slit on the tip.
'Fuck, I love seeing that.' Ilya growled.
His thumb caressed over the slit, collecting the drop of pre-come and rubbing it against the head of Shane's cock. Shane let out a muffled cry and arched into Ilya's hand, his ass jutting out against him. Ilya released the grip on his own cock and pressed his left hand against Shane's ass. He adjusted their position so that the hard length of Ilya's cock was nestled in the crease of Shane's ass. Ilya began to roll his hips again, dragging his dick between Shane's ass cheeks in a slow yet forceful rhythm that matched his strokes on Shane's cock.
Shane immediately wished they were back in bed, where Ilya could easily grab the lube from the bedside drawer and fuck him, but walking back upstairs now felt impossible. Ilya seemed to read Shane's mind because he released Shane's dick and lifted his hand to Shane's mouth. Shane spat into Ilya's hand, and Ilya immediately returned it to stroke Shane's cock. He knew Shane would get grossed out if he didn't act fast. So Ilya tightened on Shane's cock, the moisture in his hand just enough to grip him with the forced he knew Shane wanted.
'Yes, Ilya. Just like that, fuck.' The words tumbled out of Shane as Ilya stroked him roughly.
Ilya's own balls were tight, and he realised he was teetering on the edge. Maybe he had indulged a bit too much before giving Shane what he needed? But he couldn't stop. Ilya watched, jaw slack and panting, as his dick rubbed against the crease of Shane's ass with every jerked movement of his boyfriend's hips. He wanted to be buried inside Shane, but he also never wanted to stop doing this. Watching Shane on top of him, around him, against him, holding him.... Fuck, it was too much.
'I can't... Ilya.' Shane whimpered. 'Shit! I'm close...'
Well, thank fuck. Ilya delighted in knowing Shane always seemed to be just a few strokes away from orgasm.
'Come for me, Shane. Do it.' Ilya growled.
And Shane didn't know if it was the command in Ilya's voice or the sound of his name on Ilya's lips that did it, but Shane came apart. He cried out as he came, spurting ribbons of come over his stomach as he jerked against Ilya. Behind him, Ilya roared something in Russian at the sight of Shane erupting. And from the intonation, Shane knew he'd sworn. Ilya pounded into him, and it only took a few forceful thrusts of his cock along the crease of Shane's ass before Ilya's own release splattered across Shane's lower back.
They pulsed through the aftershocks of pleasure. Shane panted and cursed as the muscles in his abdomen tightened and released. Ilya's arms wrapped around his chest, and Shane heard the murmur of his voice against his throat as he whispered sweet nothings in Russian against Shane's flushed skin.
'Ya chertovski lyublyu tebya,' I fucking love you.
Shane was trembling.
'Still cold?' Ilya panted.
Shane giggled, actually giggled, and Ilya's heart wobbled.
Finally, as their panting subsided, Ilya pulled Shane into him, leaning them both against the lounger. Shane chose to ignore the wet sensation that pooled on his lower back as he pressed against Ilya's chest. Instead, he rested his head against Ilya's solid shoulder and turned to look up at him. Ilya was still panting a little, and his eyes were fixed on Shane with an adoring intensity that made Shane's mouth water. Ilya smiled.
'That was...' Shane gasped, struggling to find the words.
'Hot.' Ilya added. 'I think you are trying to say hot.'
Shane hummed in agreement and Ilya kissed him. All thoughts escaped Shane's head as he tasted Ilya. His lips were soft and plush and Shane tasted a hint of salt and sweat as he inhaled him in. And in that moment, Shane didn't care that he was lying naked on the patio, or that his briefs still circled his knees. He didn't care that it was broad daylight or that anyone who sailed past the dock might look up and see them like this. All he cared about was that Ilya was here with him.
Ok, maybe he did care a little that he was covered in his own release, but he couldn't bring himself to move. Ilya seemed to sense his uneasiness, though, because when their lips came apart, Ilya gave him a knowing look.
'What?' Shane asked.
'You want to go shower, don't you?' Ilya asked, eyebrows raised.
'Can you blame me? Look at me!'
Ilya took in the sight of Shane, sprawled against his lap, flushed and with sex-drunk eyes. Shane's stomach was completely covered in come, and his briefs were still wrapped around his knees. If Ilya hadn't just had his mind blown by his orgasm, he would have got hard all over again just looking at him. But as he observed Shane's indignant face, Ilya couldn't help but grin. Ilya threw his head back as he laughed, and Shane rolled his eyes before giving in to a chuckle.
'I have a better plan.' Ilya said, and he gently pushed Shane off his chest and rose to his feet.
Ilya seemed utterly unfazed by his own dishevelled state. The crotch of his shorts was covered in his own release, and his dick was still poking through the fly. Instead of adjusting himself, Ilya dropped his shorts to his ankles. Shane couldn't help but marvel at the flex of his muscled abdomen as he crunched to step out of his shorts.
'Are you coming?' Ilya asked as he sauntered across the patio, dick swinging through the morning air.
'Where are you going?' Shane chuckled.
Ilya reached the steps that led from the patio down towards the lake and turned back towards Shane, hands on hips.
'Where does it look like I'm going?' Ilya said, and a smile tugged at his cheeks.
He looked glorious. The morning sunlight shone through his dark golden curls, and Shane's gaze raked over his abs, his thick thigh muscles and the bulge of his biceps. Fuck, he couldn't help but gape at all of him. Even the trail of dark hair that ran from his navel to his now limp cock was hypnotic.
'Last one in the lake owes the other a blowjob?' Ilya wagered, clearly noticing the direction of Shane's stare.
'Are you ever not horny?' Shane scoffed, but he got to his feet.
Shane pulled his briefs back up from where they'd been stretched around his knees. Ilya fought to conceal his disappointment, but decided against saying anything. Shane had already stepped out of his comfort zone enough for one morning. He didn't need to skinnydip too.
Shane walked briskly to where Ilya stood and Ilya flashed him that crooked smile that always made Shane's knees buckle.
'On three?' Ilya challenged, licking his lips.
'One...' Shane nodded in agreement.
'Two...'
They both sprinted forward before either of them said three.