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The locker room filled with the easy chatter of the centaurs returning for their first practice back after the off season. Shane would be lying if he said he was used to it by now, the casual way the guys interacted with each other; bracing hugs welcoming each other back like they hadn’t seen each other in years - the sort of casual affection that would have had heads turning in Montreal if Shane had had the audacity to try such a thing in the months before he left.
It should be easier he thought as he pulled his hoodie over his head, folding it carefully the way he always did; left arm in to the centre, right arm in to the centre, tuck the hood down, hold in half down the middle lengthways then again widthways, it should have been easy batting back the kindhearted jokes, easier than trying to make himself invisible he thought, but Shane had always been good at moulding himself into what the room needed. Montreal needed him to be small, silent, unnoticeable off the ice and a powerhouse on the ice in his last few months with them. Shane found it was very hard to make himself big again after he spent so long shrinking himself.
“Jesus Christ, are you like, ok? You look like you got fucking mauled by a bear or something.” Wyatt asked as Shane stripped out of his t-shirt, folding it with as much precision as he always did.
“Hmm? What do you mean?” Shane asked, there were more eyes on him now than he would have ever liked, centaurs or not Shane would never be used to the feeling of being watched he was sure of that.
“Have you like- looked in a mirror recently? You’re black and blue Hollander are you ok?” Bood called, it was lighthearted Shane knew that but it did nothing to stop the rising panic he could feel. Shane could feel his pulse thrumming under his skin, could hear the blood rushing in his ears.
He took a breath to steady himself before glancing over to one of the mirrors in the room- it wasn’t bad by any means, at least not by Ilya's usual standard. His chest was mottled with small purple bruises, his eyes traced the path they followed, starting just below his collarbones; gathering around them like there was an invisible wall stopping them from going any higher, down his chest over his abdomen making an obvious trail downwards before they were stopped by the waist of his pants.
“Looks more than ok to me, perfect even” Ilya called out with a low whistle, not even bothering to glance up at where Shane was stood. Shane flushed a deep red colour, still unaccustomed to the casual affection Ilya liked to lay upon him now they were done hiding their relationship.
“Yeah, did you get into a fight or something?” Haas asked, and it was with such genuine sincerity it would have made Shane laugh in any other scenario.
“A fight? Haas come on look at those bruises, what sort of a fight gives you mouth shaped bruises be serious for a second” Troy half asked half laughed, the mood still light and friendly despite the internal war Shane was waging with his own emotions.
“I didn’t think- I mean I wasn’t-” Lucas stammered out, a blush rivaling Shane's own warming his face.
“I thought they would have faded by now I didn’t realise-” The words caught in Shane's throat, stuck halfway between an apology and an explanation, anything to calm the racing of his pulse under his skin. “I mean I haven't been looking to see what they looked like, I'm sorry I didn't mean to make you guys like, uncomfortable or anything.” he finished off.
Quickly he pulled his rashguard and jersey on, out of order he was dressing out of order it was supposed to be rashguard then his pants, socks, then he could sort out his shin guards and now it was wrong and it did nothing to help the panicked feeling of his heart threatening to beat out of his chest. He brought his hand to the back of his neck and rubbed it awkwardly.
“Uncomfortable for why? They should not care about seeing proof I love my husband so much.” Ilya said easily, he wanted to reach a hand out to lay it on Shane's shoulder but he hesitated, unsure if the added layer of familiarity would bring him comfort or not. Eventually he settled for gently patting Shane on the back before taking his hand away again. “If it bothers them so much then maybe they do not need eyes hmm? Maybe the issue is with their eyesight and not with us, no?”
“I know but not everyone- I mean I should have made sure they were gone I just didn’t think-” Shane was panicking, Ilya knew Shane was panicking, he was also pretty sure the team could tell he was panicking but unfortunately they were not as well versed in stopping one of Shane’s spirals as Ilya was.
“Hollander it’s fine we don’t care, we’ve all had the misfortune of getting the room next to you and the captain on the road once or twice I think we’ll survive seeing a couple of hickeys” Bood said, in what Ilya thought was supposed to be a genuinely comforting tone, but he knew the weight of that particular revelation was likely to send Shane spiraling all over again.
“Fuck Bood I really didn’t think-”
“Literally none of us care Shane, it’s fine I promise” Wyatt chipped back in to the conversation. His voice was a little more reassuring than Ilya thought he would have managed where he was normally so light.
“But if you want to make it up to us you could always ease us back into practice” Troy tried hopefully, a shit-eating grin pulling its way across his face, “I mean it’s been a few weeks and-”
“Yeah right like Hollander is ever gonna have a casual practice - I bet he’s got plays bouncing around his head already, probably already figured out where we’re gonna struggle and has mentally corrected that too” Bood hit back, gently shoving the straggling centaurs out of the locker room towards the rink.
“A guy can dream can’t he?” Troy said, wistfully though with no real sincerity.
“Yeah, yeah, I'll take a hard practice if it means we get to bring home the cup again this year” LaPointe added, following the gaggle of the team out of the locker room.
“Does it really look that bad? I didn’t think-” Shane asked Ilya as they made their way out onto the ice together. He was tapping his stick against the ice every few glides, it was weighing on him more than Ilya knew he wanted to show but he also knew there was very little he could say right now to get Shane to believe him.
“No. Looks very good. Very hot, nothing wrong with me wanting to mark my territory” Ilya replied, smirking down at Shane like the cat that got the cream.
“Ilya.” His voice was caught somewhere between warning and begging.
“They are perhaps a little more than I know you would be happy for people to say” Ilya eventually said softly, “I did not realise they would not fade by the time pre-season began.”
“It’s-“ Shane was going to say it’s fine but he wasn’t sure he could bring himself to say the words. “Well ok alright maybe it’s not fine but they’ve been nice enough about it, I guess I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop you know?”
“You dropped your shoes?”
“No, no I just mean- I don’t know I guess I’m waiting for everyone to realise that I’m- you know- gay?” Shane winced a little, the words coming out stranger than they sounded in his head.
“I am no expert in the matter but I think, maybe, they might already know that” Ilya said as seriously as he could manage before cracking into a laugh.
“No come on you know what I mean” Shane said insistently.
Ilya knew what he meant, he did not like having to think about how Shane had been treated by the voyagers but he knew better than anyone how it had affected Shane.
“I know what you mean, I know it is still scary but they will not hate you just because you love me. They already loved me when I came to Ottawa because they knew they were getting the best skater in the world on their team.”
“Second best” Shane said firmly, “I’ve got more cup wins than you.”
“Yes, yes you have more cup wins but you know I am a better skater.”
“I literally-“
“Op- no time for discussions of this matter Shane coach is waiting for us I guess I win and we must leave now!” Ilya said with a bright smile, taking off down the ice towards where people were starting to congregate. Shane shook his head with a fond smile and skated down the ice behind him, coming to rest just next to him.
“Does it not hurt?” Luca asked sincerely as the pair joined the group around coach Weibe, not noticing the way Ilya was glaring daggers at him. “I mean it looks kind of painful honestly.”
“I didn’t really notice them until you guys pointed them out.”
“Yes yes he was much too busy with his wonderful lover paying him so much care and attention now all of you have to shut your eyes and stop looking at my work it is not for you, now shhhh before he starts lecturing us on powerplay strategies” Ilya said, corralling them closer to where the rest of the team had already started stretching and warming up.
“I just think it makes sense if we-” Shane trailed behind them, the knot having eased itself from his chest a little as he settled back into more familiar territory, falling into the well practiced routine of stretching and warming himself up while throwing out suggestions on things they might want to work on ahead of the new season.
“You couldn’t have fucking kept your mouth to yourself for once could you?” Shane had Ilya pinned to the wall, his mouth hovering a few inches away from Ilya's own much to Ilya's dismay.
“You love my mouth, you were begging for my mouth. It is not my fault I am a caring and wonderful lover no?” Ilya pressed a kiss against Shane's mouth, more chaste than he would have expected whilst being pinned to the wall. “My pretty boy begs me to make him feel good and I'm supposed to what? Ignore him? No that would not do at all.”
Shane keened out a whine high and throaty before letting his head drop against Ilya's shoulder, pressing an open mouthed kiss at the crux of his neck. “You could have been a bit more subtle about it at least” though they both knew there was very little truth behind what Shane was saying.
“I was subtle wasn't I? Did not mark your neck like I wanted to,” Ilya said pointedly, moaning softly as Shane continued to press wet kisses along his neck. “I have been being very careful - nothing above your collarbones just like I promised. I have been being good no? Besides it is not my fault you bruise so easily, like you were made to wear the marks I make on you.”
Shane tried to ignore the way he could feel Ilya growing hard pressed against him. “Mmm I don’t know, leaving marks all over my chest where anyone could see? Is that being good? Would have been better if you didn’t leave them I guess-”
“But then I would not have been making you feel as good as you were feeling, and it is my job to make you feel good moya lyubov is it not?” Ilya pushed Shane back gently, stripping his shirt as he went. He moved forward, crowding into Shane's space once again, pushing him back until his knees hit the bedframe and he dropped down onto it with a soft sigh. “I cannot help that I am good at my job malysh, I was made for it you know.”
Ilya swung his legs either side of Shane's hips, grinding down against him pointedly with a groan. “I think you do not want me to stop leaving my marks on you. I think you like showing yourself off for everyone to see no?”
Shane scrambled to pull his own shirt off over his head, once free Ilya ducked his head back down, pressing warm wet open mouthed kisses to the bruises he had left before. Ilya scrapped his teeth against the skin, half a promise, half a warning as Shane bucked up into him. He could feel Ilya's cock straining against his sweatpants as he ground down into him.
Ilya held Shane's hips down with one hand, the other trailing across his chest as Ilya continued to press soft kisses down his stomach, nothing bruising, nothing with the familiar bite and dull throbbing ache Shane craved. He tried to cant his hips up again, needing to feel the sweet friction of Ilya's own cock against his, but Ilya's hand held firm, his fingers digging in just the right side of pleasurable to make Shane moan breathlessly.
“Hnn- fuck Ilya please-” Shane whined, tangling his fingers through Ilya's hair. Ilya smirked against Shane's skin, not slowing as he continued to press soft wet kisses to Shane's body. Shane writhed as Ilya finally let his teeth scrape over his hips, a litany of breathless whines and moans fell from his mouth as Ilya finally sucked a mark into the crux of his hip and the grip he had on Ilya's hair tightened.
Shane was afforded a brief moment of respite from Ilya kissing and sucking and biting marks along his hips as Ilya tugged Shane's pants down to his knees in one quick movement. The moment of respite did not last long as Ilya dragged his tongue up the length of Shane's cock, gathering the bead of precome from the slit up as he went. If it were not for the hand still holding his hips steady Shane would have thrust up into Ilya's mouth, instead Shane thrashed against the pressure a steady stream of breathy moans pulled from the back of his throat.
“You see, how am I supposed to tell you no when you are begging so desperately for more?” Ilya crooned so sweetly Shane thought he just might die right there and then in their bed, it might be sweet bliss compared to the agony of Ilya's teasing. “Would you rather I stop? So you can be nice and presentable, the golden boy everyone thinks you are?”
“No fuck, please don’t stop need-” whatever thought of what Shane needed was pulled out of his head with a punched out groan as Ilya sucked the head of his cock into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the tip, swallowing around the steady stream of precome as Shane whined and thrashed beneath him. “Fu-Fuck Ilya please god fuck want- i- fuck please-”
Ilya wrapped his hand around the base of Shane's cock and tugged, jerking Shane off into his mouth as he hummed and sucked at the head. There were many things in his life Shane wished he could do over, he wondered now, if he were to change anything, would he have ended up in this moment– with Ilya staring up at him with blown out pupils and a mouthful of his cock smiling like there was no place he would rather be than on his knees for Shane Hollander. He thought there would be no change worth missing out on this.
Shane hummed a throaty moan as brought his hand to Shane's mouth, pushing two fingers in. Shane moaned and hummed around Ilya's fingers as the hand at the base of his cock jerked him off at an agonisingly slow pace. The heat coiled low in his abdomen, his breathing heavy and he was close, so close he could feel it when Ilya pulled off with a grin.
“No fuck Ilya please I was so close fuck you’re such an asshole” Shane whined, his hips thrusting uselessly up in the search of some friction while his cock leaked steadily onto his stomach.
“Mmmm yes I am an asshole, I am so terrible and awful because I want to hear my husband beg for me to eat him out.” Ilya mocked, his face pulled into a teasing frown.
“Fuck you I don’t beg”
“That is not what you were saying earlier, I think you were saying something along the lines of ‘Ilya please, don’t stop fuck’ or was that another pretty shchenok whining for my mouth?” Ilya teased, rubbing two slick fingers around the tight ring of muscles Shane so desperately wanted Ilya to taste.
Shane rocked his hips down, he wanted Ilya inside of him so badly, wanted to feel himself stretch around his fingers as Ilya bit proof of exactly how much he loved him into his skin for everyone to see. He whined as Ilya finally pushed two fingers inside of him
Shane let his eyes squeeze shut and his head thud back onto the bed as Ilya brought his mouth back to Shane's stomach, sucking and biting in a way that was almost certain to bruise which Shane could not bring himself to care about right now when all he wanted was the proof that he was Ilya's dotted across his skin like a galaxy.
“Tell me what you want lyubimyy, shall I eat you out until you scream my name? Or would you rather I fuck you now, are you too much like a bitch in heat? I know how badly you liked to be filled, such a greedy little slut right?” Ilya mumbled low as he continued to suck and bite his way across Shane's stomach, grinning as he pulled back to see the red-blue bruises already starting to form.
Shane writhed under Ilya's touch, he felt like a string pulled taut under Ilya's mouth, trapped somewhere between too much and not enough and it was never enough.
“Fu– Fuck you god please I need-” Shane cut himself off with another whine as Ilya bit down hard in the meat of his thigh, he was sure there would be teeth marks there and the thought of it made his his stomach roll and clench with pleasure. He was close, he was so close, panting out with every mark Ilya added to his skin. It might have been laughable Shane thought briefly, just how strung out he felt from two of Ilya's fingers and a handful of marks being scattered across his skin. To anyone else it might have looked pathetic, needy, desperate even. Shane was sure he was supposed to feel embarrassed but with all the attention Ilya was pressing into him he wasn’t sure how he could feel like anything but a god. That was what Ilya did, he didn’t just care for Shane, didn’t just show him love. No. It was devotion, it was worship, Shane never felt higher than when he was writhing under Ilya's touch begging for more.
It might look to all the world like Ilya was the one in control, afterall Shane was the one moaning and keening and begging for Ilya's touch, but Ilya was the one knelt at the altar of Shane's body offering evidence of his love in a way that felt very much like he was swearing fealty to him.
“Need what moy shchenok,” and Shane could hear it now, it wasn’t cockiness, there was no arrogance in the way Ilya spoke now. He wanted Shane to tell him what he wanted, he needed to be needed by Shane like he needed the air in his lungs. He crooked his fingers and sucked another mark into Shane's hip, grinning as his hips thrust upwards trying desperately to find any friction. “Come on use your words I know you have so many you just have to tell me the right ones”
“Need fuck I don’t know anything I need anything, need to come so bad please Ilya I want it don’t you want to make me feel good? Please Ilya god, need your mouth on me need you to-” whatever it was Shane needed Ilya couldn’t hear the rest as he sunk his mouth down the length of Shane's cock, humming around it at the feeling of Shane trying so hard not to fuck up into his mouth. It was messier than Shane would like if Shane had the wherewithal to think about clean up and logistics, as it was Shane was too far lost in the warm wet heat of Ilya's mouth and the agonising drag of his fingers in and out of him. He was panting, he was so close but Ilya was looking up at him with an expectant look and fire in his eyes and he wanted a proper answer. “Fuck I don’t know I can’t- can’t think when you look at me like that I don’t know what I want but fuck Ilya please just don’t stop”
Because Ilya was an exceptionally cruel man he pulled off Shane's cock with a wet pop and a tearful whine from Shane. He did not however stop the fingers pressing in and out of him, crooking in just the right way to keep Shane on the right side of insanity.
“You have my mouth, I know I am good but surely I have not turned your brain to mush already?” He was grinning. Shane was teetering over the edge of oblivion and Ilya was fucking grinning like there was nothing he wanted more than to see Shane in blissful agony. “That would not be a very good look for the darling of the NHL now would it, everyone would be so mad at me for ruining the player with the highest hockey IQ on the ice but they would not know how you beg me to take you apart. To ruin you”
“Fuck youre such an asshole” Shane huffed, though he thought it was nothing short of miraculous he was even able to form sentences with the white hot pleasure coursing through his veins, setting his skin alight.
“I could stop,” Ilya said, though the ever present drag of his fingers did not slow. An empty threat Shane knew, there was nothing Ilya liked more than watching Shane fall apart in his hands.
“No fuck, please, don’t tease-”
“Then tell me shchenok, what do you need from me”
“God fuck- Ilya please- want you to mark me please, need you to show everyone who I belong to fuck.” Shane whined. It was almost too much, tears prickled at the corners of his eyes and his vision felt like it was minutes away from swimming.
“No.”
“What the fuck do you mean no Ilya please”
“I mean no, that is not what you need from me. I have already marked you as mine moya lyubov, I think nobody doubts who you belong to.” He said simply, coming up to kiss at the tears that threatened to spill from Shane's eyes. “I want you to tell me exactly what you want me to do, I want to hear you say it.”
Shane sobbed as Ilya pressed gentle kisses to his cheeks, kissing the tears away as they fell. “You’re sadistic.”
“Mmm yes a little, but you love me anyway. Now tell me.” Ilya said, grinding his fingers hard into Shane's prostate. “Tell me or I stop, and you don’t get to come, and wouldn't that make us both sad Shane? You know how I like making you feel good, you wouldn't want to disappoint me would you?”
Shane whined, it felt ridiculous to still feel embarrassed, especially when Ilya had known him so long. He already knew everything Shane liked, he knew the way Shane's brow creased just a little when he was close, he knew the way he squeezed his eyes shut, how he wanted to be seen but hated being looked at. He knew it all and still it felt like the heaviest weight for Shane to admit what he wanted out loud.
Ilya said nothing else, comfortable to sit in the silence as he continued the slow press of his fingers inside Shane and the gentle kisses across his face. He was waiting for Shane's answer, Shane knew he was, he knew he would get it, knew Shane would never disappoint him, knew he could pull the filthiest phrases from Shane if he was just a little patient.
“Fuck.” Shane moaned at a particularly biting kiss to his jaw, “fuck I want you to make me come Ilya, want to fuck your throat while you finger me open please.”
“Mmm see that wasn’t so hard was it?” Ilya asked, his voice low and growly sounding almost as fucked out as Shane, “and what about me hmm? What do I get for being so good? For making you feel so good?”
“Want you to-” Shane hesitated, he had no reason to be nervous but still saying it outloud made his heart clench in a way he couldn't quite explain.
“Go on shchenok, tell me what you want me to do” Ilya mumbled, moving down to mouth at Shane's neck, not quite kissing, just letting his teeth drag and catch over the grooves of his skin.
“Need you to come on me please, fuck- want you to jerk yourself off on me want you to mark your territory show everyone who I belong to please Ilya I need it, need to be yours fuck.” Shane opened his eyes, not quite sure when exactly he had squeezed them shut.
He was glad he did or he might have missed the way Ilya was looking up at him– his pupils were blown out, just a small ring of blue could be seen, his mouth was agape and Shane could almost see a line of drool threatening to drip out. For the first time that night he took the time to really look at his husband and fuck what a sight he was, flushed and fucked out with such a hazy look in his eyes Shane might have thought he was drunk and all this before he had so much as managed to get a hand on himself.
“I fucking love you” Ilya groaned out before swallowing Shane back down, ready to make good on his request.
Shane could feel the eyes on him before he looked up; he supposed it came with the territory of being a well known hockey player, you sort of developed a sense for when you were being watched - or maybe that was just how Shane was, always on edge, always waiting for someone to notice him, to push their way into his carefully crafted routine like it was no big deal.
He had been expecting it really, he had spent the morning surveying Ilya's work in the mirror. Ilya would call it preening, and he would mean it with all the love in his heart Shane knew that. It wasn’t preening, not really, he wasn’t going to any effort to show them off - wasn’t trying to draw attention to them necessarily, but, if he happened to pick a shorter pair of trunks than usual it wasn’t that he was showing off the mottled purple bruising, it was just that they happened to sit most comfortably on his body. Or at least that would be what he would tell the team if they asked.
It was hard he thought, wrestling with two distinctly opposed lines of thought in his head at any one time. He wanted so badly to be Ilya's, he wanted to be Ilya's and he wanted everyone to know he was Ilya's. He wished sometimes he could be kept like that, winning cups and coming home to just be for his husband whatever he needed him to be. He wanted people to see that he could win cups and awards and outskate anyone in the league by a mile at the same time as getting fucked so hard his brain stopped being so loud. He wanted eyes on him while he built a fucking dynasty and yet there was nothing he thought he would want less than all those eyes on him. He wanted to be Ilya's quietly, privately, where no one could see and he wasn’t quite sure how he was supposed to carry on acting like he wasn’t constantly pushing back and forth between wanting to be shown off and never wanting to be seen again.
He’d run a hand over them that morning, not pressing, not trying to do anything in particular really. Just acknowledging them, the ones from a few days ago that had littered his collarbones and chest were starting to fade, a splotchy yellow-green mess now rather than the pretty array of colours they had been when they were fresh. Shane could admit that at least, that he thought the marks Ilya left on him were pretty, they were hot yes, but it was more than that. It was the care Ilya took in taking him apart, it was evidence that he was loved, that it was Ilya that loved him. He supposed after years of having nothing to show for their relationship it was nice in a way to have something that everyone could see, something nobody could doubt.
Nonetheless as much as Shane had developed a bit of a sixth sense for telling when all eyes were on him he had never quite been able to find comfort in it. Always felt just a little too much like they could see right through him, that they were taking him apart, trying to find something, anything to use against him. He knew that was not what the team was doing now, he knew exactly why they were staring and at what but regardless it still took him a moment to dig up the courage to look up at them.
They were staring at the deep purple blotches that covered Shane's hips and thighs. Shane could understand why, really they were quite the impressive display. And fuck maybe he was preening, or showing off, or- whatever it was maybe Shane liked them knowing exactly how much Ilya loved him. Maybe that was something he ought to think about a little more some other time, maybe with a therapist, but right now it didn’t really seem to matter.
He continued his usual routine, rashguard on, then his pants, everything in place exactly as it was meant to be. He would not let them throw him off. They knew, they already knew about Shane and Ilya, he shouldn't have to hide. They didn’t have to hide. When they walked in with scratch marks from their partners or hickeys or whatever else they didn’t sit there and wonder if they were being judged for it. They didn’t care if people saw. They could waltz in like it was any other day, they could describe exactly how they got them if they really wanted to; not that anyone on the team ever did but it was besides the point - they could. They didn’t have to carry the weight of it all like Shane did and sometimes he hated them for it. Hate that they could just be and nothing mattered.
He knew he didn't have to hide, not really. He knew they didn’t care if they saw some marks on Shane, or Ilya- not that Ilya would ever be shy about the marks Shane sometimes left. If it were up to him he’d be showing up to practice shirtless boasting about them but Shane still had some sense of decorum and more guilt than could be found in a catholic sermon so Ilya had been banned from boasting.
“So… anyone get up to anything… fun last night?” Wyatt asked cautiously, only to find himself on the receiving end of a swift and rather unsubtle kick from Troy “ow fuck I was just-” Troy fixed him with a hard stare that Shane was pointedly ignoring as he continued to wrap the tape around his shins.
“I finally got Ilya to watch Bolt,” he said, in what he hoped was an entirely nonchalant and casual way but he never really could tell if he had gone with the tone of voice he was hoping for. “He cried”
“He cried… at Bolt?” Wyatt asks slowly. Ilya fixed him with what he hoped was a hard stare but it didn’t seem to perturb Wyatt in the slightest. “The 2008 animated film about a dog who thinks he has superpowers?”
“I did not cry, I have never cried this is a lie I cannot believe I am on a team full of liars”
“Ok well first of all you told me I'm a terrible liar like the second time I ever really met you so there's that” Shane said simply, lacing his skates in the same methodical way he always did, still diligently refusing to let the staring put him off. “And secondly you would be married to the liar not just on a team with them so maybe you should have thought about that before you agreed to be my husband.” Shane said simply, meeting Ilya's eyes with a certainty Ilya had not seen in a while.
Ilya’s mouth snapped shut. He tried to hide the way his breathing got a little heavier, his pulse a little quicker. It wasn’t often that Shane made reference to them being in a relationship let alone being married; it wasn’t that he was hiding it so much as he wasn’t used to being allowed to indulge in it, he supposed years of not being allowed to so much as acknowledge Ilya as anything more than his rival made it hard sometimes to give himself permission to show that he loved him just the same.
He held Shane's gaze, he was sure his pupils were blown out right now and he was sure he didn’t care who saw. The air suddenly felt thick, the tension palpable and Ilya wasn’t sure how no one else had noticed it yet, not when Shane was looking at Ilya like he wanted to eat him alive.
Fortunately for Ilya the team seemed to either have the observational skills of a blind duck, or they were willfully ignoring whatever looks Shane and Ilya were shooting at each other, for all of their sanity.
“Yeah, yeah whatever you say, you’re the one that cried at fucking Bolt” Barrett said with a laugh, lacing up his boots and standing to head off onto the ice.
“I did not! Anyone who says I cried at Bolt will be running bag skates I promise you this Barrett” Ilya said, deadly serious.
“You wouldn’t dare” Troy said carefully, though even here in the relative safety of the locker room he didn’t quite believe what he was saying.
“HEY COACH, BARRETT SAID HE WANTED TO RUN SOME EXTRA-” Ilya began shouting as he made his way out onto the ice with the rest of his team.
“Ok ok alright you’ve never cried a day in your life certainly not over an animated film about a dog, a cat, and a fucking hamster” Barrett said, half barelling after Ilya onto the ice, chasing after him as he began to skate away with relative ease.
“Yeah thats what I fucking thought” he called back, a grin spreading across his face as his skates cut clean lines into the smooth ice.
“I can't watch it” Haas said quietly to Shane, like he was almost ashamed to admit it. “I mean Bolt loves Penny so much and then he thinks she’s been kidnapped and then after all his travelling he thinks she’s abandoned her and I mean who can watch all of that without shedding a tear or two?”
“Anyone with a heart is getting a little misty eyed at Bolt Luca” Shane reassured, “Ilya just has an image he likes to maintain”
“We all saw him cry when Chiron brought him a duck toy out of nowhere”
“And he will continue to vehemently deny it until the day he dies it’s just how he is” Shane said fondly, skating out onto the ice with Luca in tow.
“Did you see Hollander’s neck?” LaPointe whispered to Young when he was sure both Shane and Ilya were far enough onto the ice to be out of earshot.
“Holy fuck I know right but for the love of god don’t say anything I think Rozanov would genuinely make good on his threat to have us do bag skates all say long”
“He wouldn't really would he? We’d fucking die” LaPointe replied, stepping out onto the ice and gliding easily alongside Young on a lazy lap of the rink.
“I don’t know - I don't think there's much he wouldn't do in defense of Hollander. He’s like a guard dog when it comes to him, I'd say all bark and no bite but I think we’ve seen plenty that he does bite-”
“What was that?” Shane called over, skating past the two in a half hearted attempt to round them closer to where everyone else was congregating.
“Nothing, just talking about some of the line changes coach made. Trying to figure out the best plays on them see what works you know?” LaPointe said perhaps a little too quickly, but if it was at all unusual Shane didn’t seem to notice; more than happy to take the bait as he launched into an animated discussion about changing up the team dynamics and the best way to gel on a new line as a rookie.
Showering after practice was usually a quick affair. No one wanted to linger around too much after a long morning and everyone had their own post-practice routines they liked to stick to. It was why, perhaps, Shane stripped out of his sweaty practice gear without much thought to what he looked like.
The bite marks. He had forgotten about the bite marks; three of them to be precise. It was one thing for the guys to see the hickeys and bruises Ilya liked to leave littered across his body, it was another thing entirely for them to see the toothy imprints left high on his thighs, red and angry and exactly what Shane wanted.
“Holy fuck Hollzy youre gonna have to start putting a muzzle on Roz” Bood called as Shane stepped past him into the steaming hot showers, ignoring the way Ilya and the rest of the team seemed to shoot daggers at him.
If it were not for the heat of the showers already bringing warmth to his skin Shane would have flushed a deep red he was sure of it. He did his best to angle himself away from the line of sight of his team but unfortunately for Shane Ilya had been rather thorough in where he had chosen to bite down into Shane and even turned as he was he was sure you could still see the little imprints of Ilya's canine teeth.
“What's the matter Bood? You have boring sex? So much so you must act like a blushing virgin when you see my beautiful husband?” Ilya said in what Shane was certain was supposed to be his defence, because apparently Shane had not suffered enough in the last week for his liking.
Silently Shane said a prayer to any god that might be listening as he let his head thunk forwards against the cold tile of the showers.
“Can’t believe you think any sex that doesn’t leave them looking like they got chewed on by a fucking dog is borning” Bood half laughed as he shook his head. “Like I said he’s gonna have to get you a muzzle - if you keep going we’re not gonna have anything left of Hollander to drag out onto the ice.”
“Oh, you like my work then yes?” Ilya said with a smile, because it seemed no amount of Shane's shame would ever hold Ilya back from boasting about his husband to anyone and everyone that would listen (and a fair few who very much were actively trying not to listen). “I would say don't you think it looks so pretty but I don't want anyone but me looking at Shane like that so instead you will just have to take my word.”
“Ilya-” Shane half whined, mortified as he tried to speed through his showering routine in a desperate attempt to remove himself from what he was quickly realising was his own personal hell.
“What I am not allowed to think my own husband is pretty? You wound me Hollander, what next I am not allowed to think you are sexy and smart too? I have to lie when people ask me what I think of you?” Shane fixed him with a hard stare, hoping Ilya would pick up on the uncomfortability that was radiating from Shane's very core. “Ok, ok I will stop I promise, no more from me and everyone else will be very nice and pretend they have gone blind right?” He called to the rest of the room to which he received a resounding grumbling of agreements from everyone that had the misfortune of still being in the showers with them.
“I swear he wasn’t this dramatic before Hollander joined,” Haas muttered to Hayes.
“He was, he once howled like a sad dog when I had the last donut” Hayes replied solemnly, “I felt so bad, I didn’t even know he could sound like that honestly I mean who would expect Ilya fucking Rozanov to sound like a kicked puppy over a fucking donut?”
“Jesus christ”
“No it was Timmies I think, Boston cream - he said it was owed to him on account of the many many years he spent in Boston on principal and he wouldn't speak to me until I brought him a replacement.” Wyatt said simply, wrapping the towel around his waist as he stepped out of the showers.
“You know what that is a perfectly reasonable reaction”
The locker room was given only a few minutes of respite before Ilya and Shane made their way out of the showers, clearly having continued the conversation. “Oh so I am the bad person for wanting everyone to know that I love my husband? Is this your way of asking for a divorce moy dorogoy?” Ilya asked, with all the air of a scorned lover finding out about an affair.
“I’m taking the kids in the divorce” Shane replied seriously.
“Oh my heart, how could you say such a thing moye solnyshko?” Ilya clutched at his heart and mimed swooning to the bench with a shit-eating grin.
This was quite possibly one of the stupidest ideas Shane had ever had he thought, staring at the non-descript brown package in his hands. He suddenly felt like he was eighteen again and walking into a sex shop three towns over to buy a dildo, praying nobody in there followed hockey close enough to have seen the draft. It was ridiculous really, being so nervous about something that he was sure Ilya would not judge him for and yet he was not able to shake the ever creeping fear that this would be it. He would suggest this to Ilya and Ilya would finally see reason and realise that Shane was a fucked-up pervert and he would leave and honestly Shane wouldn’t blame him for it.
Carefully, like it might bite him, Shane pulled apart the packaging, inside beneath the plain exterior was a similarly plain looking black silk bag. Shane stared at the bag like it had personally offended him, finally, Shane pulled the bag open. Inside sat a muzzle. The sight of it made Shane's breath catch in his throat. He picked it up slowly, cautiously, with more care than he thought was really necessary.
It was… beautiful- that was the only way Shane could think to describe it. It felt silly really calling such a thing beautiful but it really was. The cool metal wire of the basket was polished and perfect, it tapered at the end - fit for a dog's muzzle he knew but it was still a wonder to see. It was a little longer than he was expecting, it would be longer than Ilya's mouth- muzzle- Shane wasn’t sure what to call it now he was holding the muzzle in his hands. His heartbeat was hammering in his ears, his mouth was dry and his hands were shaking just a little as he turned it over.
The leather was smooth and cool in his hands, the hardware sat as polished and perfect as the basket did. There was a brief moment of disappointment when he had been looking them up - he’d not been able to find one in gold and he was sure that would have looked better on Ilya. He thought quickly that he could always get the next one commissioned from somewhere, custom made- before he shook that thought from his head. He was not even sure he was going to show Ilya this one and he was already thinking about a custom made one?
He set the muzzle back in the bag and pulled the drawstrings tight.
He checked his watch for the third time in all of thirty minutes - Ilya was at Dr Galina's right now, he knew he would be gone for at least two hours - the hour session plus travelling, if not more but still he was worried.
It was easy for Shane to get in his head about these sorts of things. Very rarely was he the one to bring up trying something new; it wasn’t that he didn’t want to try new things, it was more that he was worried about what Ilya's reaction might be. Logically he knew it would be fine, he knew there was nothing he could bring up that Ilya would make fun of him for, and even if he wasn’t into it he wouldn't be cruel about it Shane knew that.
Unfortunately logic rarely did anything to calm the rising panic his brain liked to bring to every single situation.
He supposed he could tell Ilya it was for Anya. Not that Ilya would ever entertain the idea of putting Anya in a muzzle, and not that there was any need for her to wear one anyway - certainly not one this big, he doubted it would even fit comfortably around her head on the smallest setting so that ruled that out.
He could say it was for him. Somehow that felt less scary for Shane to suggest - it would be a more comfortable extension of their dynamic really. It’s not that Shane couldn’t take charge, it's just that Ilya did it so well and anyway Shane enjoyed the light, floaty feeling he felt whenever Ilya was being particularly dominant. It would be easier really, for Shane to put the muzzle on himself, he was sure Ilya wouldn’t mind, might even think it was hot. The whole situation would be great and he was sure he would like it but it wasn’t what he wanted to do. It wasn’t what he had planned in his head and by god did he want to stick to the arbitrary plans he had made in his head so that ruled that plan out as well.
He checked his watch again, it had only been five minutes since the last time he checked. He knew he had more than enough time to come to a decision before Ilya got home.
He also knew he was steadily spiralling more and more about what Ilya's reaction might be and how he might handle it and he wasn’t sure it was a spiral he wanted to go down.
In the end Shane sat on the edge of the bed for another hour before he eventually stood up, pulled open their meticulously organised sock drawer, and shoved it underneath a pile of winter hiking socks that he knew neither of them would be touching for at least another month if not more.
It took four days before Ilya finally snapped. “Ok what the fuck is going on with you lately?”
“What do you mean?” Shane asked, nervously fidgeting with the nape of his neck, his eyes looking anywhere but at Ilya, “I’ve been totally fine, literally nothing is wrong, everything is cool and normal.”
“Yes, cool and normal and totally fine, these are words you usually say.” Ilya said sarcastically. The two of them were sat on the sofa, they had been half paying attention to some David Attenborough documentary for the last hour with Shane getting progressively more and more antsy. When Shane crossed his arms and did not say anything Ilya snapped “Oh ok yes of course I forget, I must tell you everything I am thinking and feeling always or you look at me like I’m a kicked puppy but the high and mighty Shane Hollander gets to keep his fucking secrets.”
“Fuck you you’re such an asshole not everything is about you Ilya!” Shane shouted, he knew he was being ridiculous, he knew Ilya knew he was being ridiculous but right now all he could think about was how unfair it was that Ilya was pushing to tell him something he didn’t want to say.
“Wow. Wow ok sure I am the asshole here, you think I don’t see you waking up early to go for longer runs? You think I don’t know you’ve been eating less? That I don’t see you grabbing to try to control any little thing you can right now?” Ilya did not sound mean, that was the worst part about it, Shane might have been able to handle it if Ilya sounded cruel or resentful or mean but all he did was sound hurt and Shane hated knowing he was the reason for it. “I want to help you moya lyubov' but I cannot if you do not tell me what is wrong.”
Then, in a quieter voice than Shane had heard Ilya use in a while he said “I am allowed to worry about you too Shane.”
Sometimes Shane hated how perceptive Ilya was. Logically he knew he had been acting a little different to usual; he had been working out longer hours, pushing himself harder, his diet had shrunk back down to that of his rookie days much to Ilya's dismay and he knew he had been shorter with him lately, snapping at little things like the laundry and leaving water cups out all over the place, but he had hoped they weren’t so noticeable that Ilya would call him on them.
“It’s nothing, really there’s nothing up-”
“Shane. I do not like it when you are not honest with me.” Ilya said simply, cutting off whatever sorry excuse Shane was half-heartedly trying to make up. “I know you have been more on edge than usual, I know it is affecting you, I only do not know what it is that has you so worked up and I would like it very much if you would tell me so I can help.”
Shane sat in a stubborn silence. With his arms crossed in front of his chest he was aware that his behaviour might be bordering a little too much on acting like a petulant child throwing a tantrum. He couldn’t help it, not really. He knew he was being stubborn. He knew all Ilya wanted to do was support him and he knew Ilya would be perfectly understanding if he just told him what was bothering him. He was sure Ilya would like it, and even if he didn’t he would not be cruel about it, but none of that changed the fact that Shane was scared.
He sometimes wished Ilya would be less understanding. It would be easier to be awkward and difficult if Ilya did not try so hard to be nice about it all.
“You’re going to hate me for it” Shane mumbled, and even as he said the words he knew they were not true. There was nothing he could do that Ilya would hate him for he was sure of that. It did not mean it was any less scary being honest with him though.
“I could not, never.” Ilya replied simply. Shane stilled for a moment before sighing, letting his shoulders slump forwards just barely. He turned to face Ilya more fully before swinging a leg over his lap, clambering awkwardly into it.
Ilya stilled a little, letting his hands settle on Shane's hips. “Shane,” he said carefully.
Shane ignored Ilya, pressing kisses to his jaw, moving along it and up to his ear. He was grinding his hips a little into Ilya's, panting in his ear as he did. He could feel Ilya beginning to get hard underneath him but his hands did not move from his hips, he did not bring his lips to Shane's neck like he normally would, did not encourage Shane's movements above him.
“Shane.” Ilya said again, his voice warning but with no malice behind it.
Shane continued his ministrations, licking up the shell of Ilya's ear and whining as he bit down gently. He knew this would not work, that once Ilya had something in his mind there was little that would distract him from it. But he wanted more than anything to live a few moments more in the quiet, blissful ignorance that whining in Ilya's ear brought to his mind.
“Shane. Enough.” Ilya said, firmer this time, “please tell me what is bothering you moye solnyshko.”
Shane let his forehead come to rest on Ilya's shoulder. “Fine,” he mumbled somewhere into the crux of his neck, “but you have to promise that you won’t laugh at me or hate me or whatever. You can tell me to fuck off but you have to be nice about it.”
“I promise I will not laugh at you, and I could never hate you.” Ilya said sincerely, gently pushing Shane backwards so he could look at him.
“Ok, ok alright fine” Shane said, climbing his way off Ilya. He began making his way to their bedroom, when Ilya did not immediately follow he gave a little nod of his head towards the hallway.
“Mmm- and you think I would hate you for something that takes us to our bedroom? Moy milyy mal'chik if I could keep you all day there I would, you know this.” Ilya said, his breathing a little heavier as he followed Shane dutifully towards their room. Shane ignored the flush of heat that was creeping up his neck as they reached their room.
“Will you–” Shane took a steadying breath, “will you sit on the bed, and close your eyes?” When Ilya did not immediately move he spoke again, softly, just barely audible, “please.”
Ilya nodded, swallowing hard as he sat himself on the edge of the bed. He closed his eyes, as much as he wanted to speak he wanted Shane to trust that he would listen to him more. For somewhere near their dresser Ilya could hear Shane pulling out a drawer and rummaging through something; their clothes presumably, before the drawer slid shut once again. The bed dipped a little as Shane took a seat beside Ilya. Ilya could feel Shane's hands moving around something and the urge to speak again was there but Ilya had come this far, he could do what Shane asked for a little while longer if it would bring Shane some peace of mind.
“Ok, ok alright you can-” Shane took a shaky breath, “You can open your eyes now.”
Ilya couldn’t say he was expecting to see a muzzle in Shane's hands. Then again Ilya was pretty sure there was very little blood in his brain right now anyway so whatever thought of what he might have been expecting had been lost somewhere between the thoughts of ‘oh fuck please’ and ‘god I love you’.
It wasn’t until Shane let out a half desperate whine and said “Well say something.” that Ilya realised he had been silently staring at the smooth black leather
“Is that for me?” Ilya said breathlessly, the words coming out low and gravelly. Ilya felt like he was on fire, his skin thrumming with heat and electricity and need. What he wanted to say was ‘please let that be for me please put it on me I want it I need it let me be yours please own me’ but his mouth seemed to have lost a good amount of its ability to form words right now.
“Yes. If you want, I mean you don’t have to, I just thought maybe-” Shane was fidgeting with the straps of the muzzle. He was decidedly not looking at Ilya as he repeatedly buckled and unbuckled the back strap of the muzzle.
“Please,” Ilya said, and he was sure it was almost a whine. The thought of that almost knocked the breath from his lungs. He didn’t whine, he didn’t whimper, he certainly didn’t beg but now there was nothing he wanted more than to drop to his knees and beg Shane to muzzle him, to put him in his rightful place by his side as his loyal dog. He didn’t just want it, he needed it but he wasn’t sure he had the words in english to explain all that to Shane right now so he had to hope whining and begging would be enough. “I mean yes I want I just- please”
“Oh fuck– Ilya are you sure-”
“I’m sure, I'm so sure please put it on me moya lyubov' I want it, want to be-” Ilya stopped himself with a ragged breath. He was sure his pupils were blown, his face felt flushed and he could feel how hard he was pressed against the confines of his pants. He felt dizzy on it, like he could float on the feeling the idea of serving Shane gave him.
“Want to be what?” Shane pressed, his voice sounding equally ragged and fucked out despite neither of them having done more than kiss and grind on each other for a minute.
“Want to be good for you, please Shane," Ilya said honestly, swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat, “Can i– would you please let me be good for you, please, promise I'll be good.”
“Fuck, yeah? You want to be a good dog for me Ilya?" Shane asked, and Ilya whined, he slid off the bed to his knees and pressed his face to Shane's crotch, nuzzling as close as he could breathing in the heady smell that was warm and musky and so uniquely Shane. “Oh fuck– ok, ok holy shit Ilya you gotta stop or I'm not gonna come before I can even get the muzzle on.”
Ilya whined, grabbing desperately at the zipper of Shane's pants, fumbling a little as he pulled it down. He pressed himself closer to Shane, letting himself grind up against Shane's shin with a stuttering groan as he mouthed at Shane's cock through his underwear.
“Ilya-” Shane said warningly, letting him mouth for another moment before he threaded his fingers through Ilya's hair and tightened his grip. Ilya let out a shuddering moan as his head was pulled backwards off of Shane's crotch and he was made to look up at Shane. “I thought you wanted to be a good dog?”
Ilya whined out a string of Russian expletives as he pressed his hand to his own cock, and god if that didn’t drive Shane mad; the knowledge that he was affecting Ilya so badly right now that English was a struggle. “You cannot just say that to me dorogoy if you do not want me to come in my pants right now.” he said, panting and breathless, already looking fucked out and drunk with lust. Shane could see the way his cock was straining at his pants and much as he wanted to see Ilya lose it from a little dirty talk and humping he wanted so badly to feel the cold metal of the muzzle press against his neck while Ilya fucked him.
“Mmm that wouldn’t do would it?” he asked, a little more condescending than Ilya had been expecting and it did nothing to help dull the throbbing ache in his cock. “Come here, be good and let me put this muzzle on you.”
Ilya nodded, shuffling forwards a little to slot himself neatly between Shane's knees. He looked up at Shane pleadingly and Shane shuddered, he was not sure he had ever seen quite so much love and trust in Ilya's face and it made his blood run hot underneath his skin.
Ilya sat still and lifted his arms, allowing Shane to pull his shirt off over his head, Shane thought briefly that he wasn’t sure he had ever undressed Ilya like this. He had pulled Ilya's shirt up in moments of passion, had torn at his pants to get them off as fast as he could out of desperation, but never before had he been given the chance to take care of Ilya like this. It felt weighty and heady, he felt like he sometimes did when he and Ilya had a particularly intense scene; soft, and safe and drunk on love, but with a startling clarity compared to the usual hazy, floating feeling he got.
Carefully he undid the buckles, loosening them enough so that he could slip the muzzle on over Ilya's head. With the metal basket held in place Shane moved to tighten the buckles back up against Ilya's head. He slipped a finger underneath the leather strap as he tightened, ensuring it wasn’t digging in too badly anywhere. With the strap over the top of Ilya's head, and the two around the back firmly in place, Shane took a moment to sit back and survey his work.
Ilya looked– filthy. His hair was mussed from where Shane had pulled him back, his face flushed with want. Shane could barely see the blue-grey of Ilya's around the dark pits of his blown-out pupils. Ilya's mouth hung in an open-mouthed pant and Shane realised he was drooling ever so slightly out of the corner of his mouth; he wasn’t sure if Ilya had even realised he was doing it and fuck the thought of Ilya being so drunk on lust already that he didn’t notice himself drooling made Shane's cock throb. The flush from his face travelled down his neck and across his chest and Shane could see his pulse hammering in his throat, his chest rose and fell rapidly as Ilya tried to replace the oxygen that seemed to have left his lungs. His hands had fallen back to grab around Shane's legs, for support or connection Shane wasn’t sure but it felt electric either way. Ilya's cock was straining in his pants, he looked achingly hard and Shane's mouth watered seeing him knelt below him like a worshipper at an altar.
Shane hooked a finger under the strap of the muzzle and pulled Ilya up towards him, Ilya groaned as he went up, his movement soft and pliant, letting himself be dragged around easily.
“Mmm maybe I should have gotten you a collar and a leash to drag you around properly.” Shane hummed. Ilya whined, he moved his hand as if to palm at his cock but Shane held it tight. “No, no you don’t get to touch that puppy. That's mine to use how I want, isn't that right?”
“Yebat', shit yes, fuck please Shane please touch me, use me I don’t know just want-” Ilya groaned as Shane pulled his pants down in one quick movement, leaving Ilya tenting in his underwear in front of him. Ilya groaned so low it almost sounded like a growl and fuck if that didn’t send little shock waves of pleasure coursing through Shane's veins. “Sit on the bed, up by the headboard.”
Ilya practically fell over himself to comply, stepping out of his pants properly and half falling into the bed. He sat propped up against a pillow in nothing but the muzzle and his underwear, and Shane couldn’t help but be reminded of how he had been in Vegas all those years ago.
“Wait.” Shane said simply, Ilya keened out another whine, high and throaty and unlike anything Shane had heard him make before. He watched the wet patch slowly darken the front of Ilya's underwear, precome leaking out steadily. “Fuck Ilya you don’t know how good you look right now, how good you’re being for me holy shit.” Ilya's hand twitched towards his cock but he did not make any movements to do anything else.
Shane stood at the end of the bed and slowly, deliberately undressed himself. He made sure to take his time, folding each item carefully before placing it on their chest of drawers. When he was finally free of all of his clothes he crawled his way up the bed towards Ilya, settling with his head between his thighs.
“Fuck Shane, please-” was all Ilya managed to beg before Shane mouthed at his dick over his underwear. Shane could feel the precome leaking out through the soaked underwear and he moaned as he sucked at the tip.
“Mmmm and you say I get so wet for you” he teased, bringing a finger up to trace the length of the bulge lightly. “And yet here you are about to come in your pants because I put a muzzle on you? Isn't that a bit pathetic?”
Ilya did not manage to huff out a response before Shane was pulling his underwear down and sinking his mouth down the length of the shaft. Ilya growled, he tried to thrust his hips up into Shane's warm mouth but the weight of Shane on his thighs had him pinned, he could just barely rut up half an inch and he was sure Shane had planned it like that.
Shane sucked dick like he played hockey, that was to say he had perfected it. It had taken a long time for Shane to learn to suppress his gag reflex enough to be able to open his throat up and take Ilya down to the root but now he had it figured out he hit the mark every single time. Ilya's hands flew up to thread themselves through Shane's hair but as he moved Shane pulled off, fixing Ilya with a hard stare.
“No. No I don’t think I said you could do that did I?” He pushed Ilya's hands back up to his chest. “You’re supposed to be being a good dog for me aren't you? Good dogs don’t take what they want, if you want to keep your hands busy you can play with your nipples while I take what I want down here.”
Ilya sucked in a shuddering breath as Shane sunk back down onto his dick, the pleasure burned white hot under his skin as he brought his hand to his chest, squeezing and tugging at his nipples the way he would with Shane's. His breathing was ragged he was sure of that, he was panting hard and trying his best to rut up into Shane's mouth but with no way to get any leverage he could move barely an inch. Shane moaned around his cock and Ilya could feel the heat coiling low and insistent in his abdomen.
“Oh f– fuck Shane, Shane please I'm so close I'm gonna come please Shane god fuck I need-” Ilya wailed as Shane pulled off with a satisfied smile. “No no no please moya lyubov', please you don’t know what you do to me I'm so close please just-”
“You aren’t being a very good dog right now moy shchenok,” Shane said, the Russian sounded nothing like the easy way Ilya said it but hearing Shane use it had Ilya closer than he had been all night.
“Fuck- fuck Shane please, please that's not fair you can’t do that please let me come.” Ilya begged, he thought distantly that there might be tears welling in his eyes but he couldn't bring himself to care.
“No.” Shane said simply, sliding off the bed and moving around to their bedside table to grab the bottle of lube they kept there. “I told you, your only job is to make me feel good isn't that right? I know it's hard to think when you're such a dumb dog but surely you haven't forgotten already?” The words hit Ilya like molten gold, gilding his heart. His cock throbbed again, pulsing a pool of precome onto his stomach.
“‘Mmm sorry dorogoy, want to be good, I'll be good I promise please use me please let me be good for you.”
“That’s better” Shane said with a smile, “now, you’re going to watch while I open myself up for you, and you’re going to be good and not move while I do it right?” Ilya groaned and Shane watched as his cock twitched but he nodded and moved his hands to his side.
Shane knelt himself across the bed, his back arching presenting himself to Ilya. It had been a while since he had opened himself up, Ilya normally more than enthusiastic to get his mouth or his fingers on Shane. He clicked the cap of the lube open and squirted a generous amount onto his fingers. Slowly he circled his hole, spreading the lube around it before he pushed in with two fingers. The stretch was delicious, Ilya would normally have taken the time to open him up with his mouth first before working his way up to one, then two, then three fingers and while Shane loved the care Ilya took with him he couldn't deny the stretch and burn of two fingers at once lit a fire under his skin. He could hear Ilya keen out a whine behind him and he shifted a little to give Ilya a better view, sucking in a breath between his teeth before he began moving them. They stayed like that for a minute? Ten? Shane wasn’t sure he could tell how fast time was passing anymore, all he knew was the jolts of pleasure as he crooked his fingers, and the panting whines of Ilya behind him.
His arm was beginning to shake under the tension of spreading himself open so Ilya could see so he threw a glance back to Ilya, “will you be a good boy and come and spread me open so I can fuck myself properly?”
Ilya groaned so loud Shane was sure he had come untouched, but it was nothing more than the raw pleasure Ilya was feeling ripping its way out of his throat. The bed shifted beneath their weight as Ilya knelt behind Shane, spreading him open as he did so. With Ilya helping hold him open Shane allowed himself to collapse into the bed, his face and chest pressed into the mattress, one arm stretched out in front of him, his ass pushed up into the air with his other hand fucking into himself in earnest. He was letting out a litany of throaty whines and moans, and breathy pants as he added a third finger. Ilya hadn’t spoken in a while and Shane wasn’t entirely sure if he had forgotten how to speak or not.
He could feel the tension building low and steady in his gut and he knew if he kept this up much longer he’d be coming before Ilya could even get inside him so he slowed a little, savouring the drag and stretch of his fingers inside himself.
Shane almost jumped when he felt the cold metal of the muzzle come to rest just above his hole, nestled in between his cheeks as Ilya whined. “Please moy lyubimyy let me taste you, I could make you feel so good couldn't I? You like me eating you out do you not please I need it want you in my mouth want to fuck you open with my tongue Shane please.” His voice was raw and wrecked and filthy.
Shane whined at the words, “f–fuck Ilya, you want to eat me out so badly? Want to taste me? Why don’t you try then hmmm?” He removed his fingers and backed up a little into where Ilya was kneeling. The metal of the muzzle pressed further against him and Ilya whined as he realised there would be no way for him to even get close to being able to eat Shane's ass. “Awhh, did you forget? Did my dumb puppy forget about the muzzle? Are you too fucked out to even think right now is that it?” Shane said condescendingly as Ilya whined again, trying in vain to push against the metal of the muzzle to get a taste only to realise once again it was too long for him to be able to get close.
“Please Shane, please I need to fuck you need to feel you around me need to mark you up I need- I don’t know I don’t know I just need to be good for you but I am so hard and I want you to use me please Shane please let me be of use please.” Ilya groaned, the words were mostly a jumbled garble of want and Shane, for all he could pretend to be unaffected, needed nothing more than for Ilya to fuck him through the mattress right now.
“Yeah- yeah ok fuck Ilya you can– im ready im fine you can fuck me now please,” when Ilya didn’t immediately move Shane turned his head to glance back at him, “Ilya?”
“I’m just trying not to come right now give me a second Shane fuck–” Ilya said with a bitten off groan. “Ok, ok fuck yeah I'm- I'm ok” and Shane wasn’t sure if Ilya was trying to reassure Shane, or himself.
Shane could hear the click of the lube being opened again, and the slick sounds of Ilya lubing himself up before he pushed into Shane in one fast motion. Shane felt the wind get knocked out of him as Ilya set out with a punishing pace, the strokes were sloppy really compared to the way Ilya usually hit his prostate dead on, but there was something about that that pushed Shane right to the edge.
“Oh fuck Ilya- fuck I'm, I'm close already Jesus Christ what-” Shane felt Ilya's body press down onto him, pushing him down flat into the mattress as his legs gave out. One of Ilya's hands came up to meet the one Shane had stretched out in front of him, pinning it in place, the other he pushed underneath Shane's body, holding low on his abdomen in a possessive sort of way that made Shane see stars. His body stayed pressed atop him, letting Ilya hit deeper as he growled in Shane's ear. The metal of the muzzle pressed against Shane's neck and Ilya damn near howled at it.
“This isn’t fucking fair” Ilya growled, Shane could hear his teeth gnashing and realised with a whine that Ilya was trying to bite into the meet of his shoulder but couldn't because of the muzzle. “I’ve been so good, been such a good dog for you and I can’t even prove it, can’t mark you up as mine can’t- FUCK!” Ilya shouted, fucking into Shane with a reckless abandon.
“Fuck- Ilya please I'm so close I'm gonna-” Shane's orgasm hit without warning, he might have been shouting but he couldn’t tell, all he could feel was white hot pleasure coursing through his body as he came untouched, his cock still trapped pressed up against his stomach and the mattress.
He felt limp and boneless beneath Ilya, who he realised was still fucking into him with the same punishing pace. “Mmm fuck please come Ilya, please want you to be good for me and come” he mumbled, riding the line between too much and not enough, overstimulation wracking through his body.
“‘M gonna fucking breed you Shane, gonna show everyone who you belong to, want to knock you up so bad gonna put a litter in you.” Ilya groaned as he continued fucking into Shane, growling as he tried once again in vain to bite into the crook of Shane's neck. “Bet you want me to right? Such a slut for me you want me to fuck you full right, want me to fill you up?”
A moan was pulled from somewhere in the back of Shane's throat as Ilya buried himself in Shane. Shane could feel his cock throbbing but he wasn’t moving and fuck it was almost too much as Ilya whispered low in his ear, “tell me you want me to breed you like a bitch in heat.”
Shane whined but nodded, “please Ilya, want you to knock me up, want you to breed me like a bitch in heat please won’t you be a good dog and breed me?” That was enough to send Ilya over the edge, he let out something between a howl and a moan as his cock pulsed, filling Shane up. Shane was sure he saw god for a moment, stars filing his vision as Ilya emptied himself inside Shane. He might have passed out, he wasn’t too sure but when his vision returned Ilya was still just barely holding himself above Shane.
“Fuck.” Ilya said softly, collapsing down onto Shane, panting. Beneath him Shane was shaking silently, his breathing ragged and broken. Ilya pulled his hand out from beneath his and Shane's body and let go of where he had Shane's hand pinned in front of them. Slowly he unbuckled the muzzle and took it off, setting it to the side of them.
They stayed like that for a while, Ilya softening inside Shane, the hot wet heat of his cum slowly leaking out and dribbling down the inside of Shane's thighs. Somewhere in the back of his mind he thought they would have to move soon, Shane would come back to himself and the sticky mess would be too much but for now it was enough to lie in the quiet, breathing in and out against each other.
Eventually Ilya pulled out, Shane cried out softly beneath him. “We should get cleaned up khoroshenkaya” Ilya said gently, “I will run us a bath.” Shane hummed something that sounded vaguely in agreement, but he still sounded distant, like he was not quite himself again yet.
Ilya gingerly padded to their en-suite and began running a bath. He gathered a few bits to set beside the bath, shampoo, conditioner and some bubbles just in case Shane wanted them. On his way back to their room he grabbed a washcloth, dampening it in the sink so he could clean Shane a little first - he knew he would not want to walk to their bathroom with come dripping down his legs if he could help it.
When Ilya returned to their room Shane was no longer lying on his front, instead he was sat gingerly at the edge of the bed which should have been the first clue to Ilya that something was not quite right.
“I have started the bath running,” he said gently, coming to rest beside Shane. He realised, perhaps a moment too late that Shane was still shaking slightly, sniffling as he did. “Shane? Moya lyubov'? Is everything ok?”
Shane looked up at Ilya, his eyes swimming with tears, “I’m sorry-” he half choked out before Ilya pulled him into his arms.
“Hey, hey no what is this? What do you have to be sorry for?” he asked gently. “Shane what do you think you have done wrong here why are you apologising?”
Shane let Ilya hold him for a moment, before he mumbled out into his chest, "I didn't treat you well.”
“Shane what-”
“I called you dumb, I don’t think you’re dumb I promise I didn't mean it, I wasn’t thinking im sorry I don't know-” Shane's breathing was harsh now, sucking in breaths like he couldn't breathe and for a moment Ilya was worried perhaps he actually couldn't with his face pressed so tightly into Ilya's body so he pulled away a little, which did not help as Shane let out a hurt cry, clinging to Ilya's back as best he could.
Ilya guided them gently to the bed before pulling Shane halfway into his lap, wrapping his arms around him protectively. “I know this Shane, I know you do not think I am dumb-”
“I called you pathetic,” Shane sobbed.
“It is ok, it was part of the game, I liked it, I promise Shane, you are not a bad person for saying these things.” he reassured, gently rocking them back and forth. His hand stroked gently up and down Shane's back, “When it is the other way around, do you think I mean what I say? Do you think I think you are a slut? My toy? Worth nothing but as a hole for me to use?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then why do you think it is any different for me? I know you do not think I am pathetic, I know you do not think I am dumb. It is sometimes fun to be called things even if we are not them, yes?” Ilya asked gently. Shane didn’t quite trust his voice so instead he nodded against Ilya's chest. “I thought it was hot Shane.”
“Really?” Shane asked, glancing up to meet Ilya's eyes. His own eyes still swum with tears that threatened to fall.
“‘Really’ he asks me like I didn't just come harder than I ever have before, ok sure yeah get me to stroke your ego a bit more I see how it is.” Ilya joked, then he realised Shane, who still looked a little out of it, was not the best at telling his tone when he was with it, let alone after something like this. “I promise I thought it was hot Shane, I was a second away from coming in my pants all night it is a miracle you managed to get me to fuck you.” he said sincerely.
Shane nodded a little, “you liked it.”
“I did.”
“And I'm not a bad person for saying those things.” he said, although he sounded a little less sure of himself on that one.
“You are not.” Ilya reassured, “Now, the bath should be almost ready, do you want to have it while I change the sheets or do you want me in with you?”
Shane thought for a moment before answering, “Can we bathe together? I want-” he stopped himself, like he was embarrassed which Ilya thought was odd given everything they had done that night but then again Shane could always find things to be embarrassed about.
“What would you like milyy?”
“I want to wash your hair,” Shane said quietly, like admitting it was exposing a vulnerability he hadn’t previously thought about. “I just want to take care of you, just- just to prove that I can, I guess.”
Ilya fixed Shane with a soft smile, “Shane you always take care of me, but yes of course, come I have bubbles.”
“Ew no- no bubbles I mean how are you supposed to wash your hair properly if there are bubbles in the water, it’s a logistical nightmare-” Ilya trailed after Shane into their bathroom, smiling fondly as he heard the lecture on proper hairwashing techniques.