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Ilya's eyes were wet with unshed tears. It was an unfamiliar reversal- usually, Shane was the more teary-eyed one of the two of them. Despite that fact, it didn't feel unnatural or awkward like tears usually were. It felt like progress. It felt like being something.
"Hey, hey," Shane called when his face turned away in shame. He shifted, straddling his lap where he sat on the edge of the bed.
"I'm sorry-" Ilya's voice cracked, tears finally falling and rolling down his cheeks. Shane tilted Ilya's face to his.
"No," He interrupted. Ilya looked pitiful, his eyes wet and shining, lip trembling in his attempt to contain his emotions. He cradled his jaw, kissed Ilya softly. He tasted like salt. He tasted like something new. When he pulled away, he buried his face into Shane's shoulder. They both held onto each other, Shane rocking them gently in a back-and-forth sway.
"Ilya." Shane pressed a kiss to Ilya's hair. He smelled like salt too, from the beach they had sat together on, pinky fingers hooked together. Ilya's back was shaking now, so Shane held tighter. When Shane had asked if his father was crazy sick, he hadn't said no, even though that wasn't what he had meant. Shane's mind wandered- what did that mean? He had said he was traditional. Brother and Father both police- police who enforce laws that would hurt Ilya. Laws that could make him disappear. Ilya couldn't feel safe with them. And his mother was gone. What happened to her? None of these were questions for now, or maybe not even for later. Ever. Shane should just take the bits and pieces Ilya would give, shouldn't he? Let Ilya tear himself open one bit at a time, at his own pace? Avoid the risk of losing him again? But Shane wanted to dissect- wanted to pick Ilya apart so that he knew how to put him back together next time something of him broke.
"I'm sorry," Ilya gasped wetly. "'m sorry, I-" he cut himself off with a sob, squeezing, trembling, digging his face and his fingers into Shane hard enough to hurt, but it was okay. Ilya was hurt, and Shane didn't mind sharing some of it with him.
"Shh, 's okay," Shane mumbled into his hair. "'s okay, baby." The pet name slipped out without Shane's permission. Ilya pulled his face away from Shane's neck and looked up at him, arms still hooked around Shane's back. His cheeks were flushed from the crying, but his ears gave it away- they were blushing pink. Shane threaded his fingers into his hair, thumb brushing the tip of a reddening ear. Shane had been about to be embarrassed, but Ilya clearly liked it, so no need.
"Oh yeah? Baby?" Shane cooed, smiling softly down at him. Ilya's flush darkened, and he tried tucking his face down and away from Shane. "Uh-uh, look at me, baby." Shane gripped Ilya's chin and tilted his face back towards himself.
"Shane." Ilya whispered it, almost whined it. Reverent. His eyes shone, and his lips shaped themselves around the word with more care and gentleness than anyone else had ever shown towards Shane. He tested its feel in his mouth, tested if he was allowed. If it would make him run again. Shane didn't run. Instead, his mouth quirked up at the corner.
"Ilya."
"Shane," he said again, "Can you..."
Anything. Anything at all- he would do anything for Ilya if he stared up at him so brokenly, face wet from crying into Shane's shoulder. "What do you need?"
Ilya whimpered. "Fuck, I- Can you- call me..? Again?" His eyes darted between Shane's.
Shane's face softened. "Baby," he whispered, kissing the salt from Ilya's eyelashes, his red cheeks, pressing an extra to the corner of Ilya's mouth. He let Ilya hide in his neck, holding him there with one hand in his hair. His other dragged up and down Ilya's back, counting each divot of his spine, mapping the planes of his shoulders, the curve of his waist. His nails scraped gently against Ilya's scalp, and he sighed a puff of air against Shane's neck, pressing his face closer. He felt rather than heard Ilya mouth his name into his skin. Shane shivered at the lips against his neck. His fingers twitched against Ilya's back. Ilya pressed his lips to Shane's neck, dragging them up, nipping at the hinge of his jaw. He pulled back to look at Shane. His eyes were red-rimmed and glazed, face dusted with pink. Shane scratched at his scalp, tightened his fingers in his hair and watched as his eyes dropped closed, eyelashes fanning across his cheeks.
Shane kissed him. A gentle press, Ilya's hands drifting from their position locked together behind Shane's back to grip his waist. He pulled at him, fingers digging in, pulling him closer, until Shane felt him- hard, pressing against him. He rolled his hips down, and Ilya's mouth fell open. Shane took the opportunity to slide his tongue into Ilya's mouth. It was wet and warm and Shane could feel the heat radiating off of Ilya. Shane stripped himself of his shirt, pulling on the hem of Ilya's till it was over his head and discarded on the floor. Shane pushed at his chest and pressed him to the bed, leaning over his body, still straddling him. He was feverish, skin burning, eyes unfocused, trembling all over as Shane ground against him again.
"Shane," Ilya whined. "Please." That was new. Ilya didn't beg. He had always just taken what he wanted. That wasn't to say he was a bad lover, in fact, he was quite a considerate one; always making sure Shane finished before he did, making sure that they both enjoyed themselves. So polite, considerate, in contrast with his roughness and mean tendencies. But he was always the one in control, from their very first meeting until now. Now, hearing and seeing what was Ilya Rozanov lust-drunk and begging, Shane was almost upset that he hadn't gotten to experience it before. The sight of him made all of Shane's blood rush from his brain downward. Ilya was flushed, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, completely gone even though they had barely gotten started. Shane was lightheaded. Ilya was going to be the death of him.
"What do you need, baby? Please what?" Shane's voice was rougher than he was used to hearing it.
Ilya tossed his head to the side, crushing his face into a pillow to muffle a loud, drawn-out moan that sounded suspiciously like his name. He looked back towards Shane, nervousness clearly shown on his face. Shane sat back, hands settling gently on Ilya's hips. He rubbed soothing circles with his thumbs, watching Ilya's Adam's apple bob on an anxious swallow.
"I think," he started, paused, his accented voice quiet and hesitant. "I like how we- what we do usually, but I think I want to- um, I think it is my turn, maybe? I think I would like to try? If you want? Maybe you do not want, I-"
Shane cut him off by leaning back over him, crashing their mouths together, teeth clicking and moans coming from both of their throats. Shane's hands had gone from soft to possessive and hard on Ilya's hips. If Shane wants? God, Shane nearly passed out at Ilya's words. Both of them were nearly panting, and Shane pulled back just enough to breathe. "You are going to fucking kill me," he growled.
He rose up on his knees over Ilya, unpinning him from the bed. Ilya looked up at him, dazed, confusion evident in his face.
"You want me to fuck you, don't you? Up. Pants off."
Ilya's eyes visibly unfocused as his mouth fell open on a broken moan. He unbuttoned his pants, sliding them off his legs with Shane's help and kicking them onto the floor. He hesitated, thumbs hooked into his boxers, until Shane rose an eyebrow at him expectantly. He threw them to the floor as well. His dick was hard and leaking against his stomach. Shane palmed himself through his jeans as Ilya crawled up the bed, cock hanging heavy between his legs, dropping down onto his forearms and resting his head on them folded under him. Shane salivated at the sight- Ilya's back arched, his round ass on full display, his heated gaze locked on Shane over his shoulder. Shane came up behind him, leaned over, and kissed the back of Ilya's neck. He shivered beneath him as Shane trailed kisses down his back, his hands holding onto Ilya's waist. Ilya was shaking, and when Shane bit at his hip bone he jerked forward in an attempt to get some stimulation on his dick.
Shane took pity on him, reaching around him to stroke him lazily, thumb sliding over the slick head, smearing precome down his length. Ilya bucked into his hand, moaning loudly into his arms.
Shane took his hand away, ignoring Ilya's pleading whine for him to come back. He leaned over to the bedside drawer, grabbed the lube and condoms he had stashed there earlier. He returned to his position behind Ilya, kissing his shoulder. He squirted lube over his fingers on one hand and the palm of the other and stroked Ilya a few times while he writhed at the too-much, not-enough, slick sensation. He brought his fingers to Ilya's hole, hesitating only for a moment before gently prodding in with one finger. Ilya tensed, gasping. How was Shane meant to do this? He'd only fingered someone else once before, and that had been unsuccessful. And with different parts. Shane cringed at the memory before pushing it from his mind. He'd done this to himself plenty of times, but the angles were all different. He thrust the one finger in and out exploitatively. Ilya relaxed fairly quickly, especially considering the fact that this was new. Well, new for them. Had Ilya bottomed before, back with his coach's son? He felt the familiar pang of guilt he always felt when he realized he didn't know much more about Ilya than anyone could gather from his media persona. Maybe, with their Something New, Shane could learn that sort of thing. Shane slipped a second finger in, pushing in further than he could with only one. He crooked his fingers down like he would for himself, and Ilya pushed back on his fingers with a broken cry.
"Fuck, Shane," he groaned as Shane hit his prostate again. His shaking had gotten more violent. Shane scissored his fingers, stretching Ilya open. He added a third finger once Ilya had relaxed enough. Ilya started thrusting back against his hand consistently, small moans falling from his mouth.
"You good, baby?" Shane asked. Ilya nodded jerkily, then turned his head to look back at him.
"Need more," he whined. "I can take it, I'm ready," he rolled his hips. Shane pulled his fingers out, causing Ilya to let out a dissatisfied whimper at the emptiness. He unbuttoned his pants, shucking them and his underwear off at once. He had forgotten how hard he was while he was busy focusing on Ilya. Now, it was almost painful. He ripped open a condom wrapper, rolled it on, then squeezed more lube into his hand and coated himself. His mouth fell open at the sensation after so long of nothing. He positioned himself back behind Ilya and pressed the head of his cock to Ilya's hole. He slowly pressed in while Ilya held his breath, trying to stay relaxed as his body was invaded. Shane stopped about halfway in, breathing heavily but controlled through his nose. Ilya, even with how long Shane had spent fingering him, was so tight that Shane had to stop to compose himself before he lost it.
"Good?" Shane checked. Ilya didn't respond. Instead he rocked himself back on his knees and pushed Shane the rest of the way in. They both moaned in tandem. Shane saw stars, vision going white at the edges. Ilya rocked forward, then backwards again, fucking himself on Shane's cock. As hot as the idea of Ilya being that desperate for him was, this was Shane's chance to be in control. Who knew if he would get to do this again? If this was a one time occurrence, he wanted to take full advantage of it. He gripped Ilya's hip, vice-like, hard enough it would probably bruise. He held Ilya still as he thrust in hard until his hips made contact with Ilya's ass. Ilya was clearly enjoying himself, moaning at each thrust as sweat began to bead at his shoulder blades, but he wasn't writhing like he had been when Shane fingered him. Shane resolved to fix that- he adjusted the angle until on one thrust Ilya's entire body jerked and he cried out so suddenly he didn't have the chance to turn his face into the pillows like he had been trying to do. They were in a hotel, after all. Shane kept the angle up, increasing his pace. Ilya was squirming underneath him as his body was jostled by Shane. Shane was closer than he wanted to be, and Ilya likely wasn't able to comem like this the way Shane could. Shane reached around and began to jerk Ilya off in time with his thrusts. Ilya was torn between bucking into Shane's hand and forcing himself back onto his cock as he writhed.
"Shane, please, I'm so-" he moaned on a particularly hard thrust. "господи, Shane, I'm close, please-"
Shane thrust faster, his rhythm erratic as he neared the edge. "putain, merde, avec moi Ilya, bébé, putain," he gasped into the small of Ilya's back.
Ilya spilled onto the sheets after one final stroke of his dick. His body sagged, and Shane came with a shout inside him. He groaned as he pulled out and Ilya shuddered and collapsed down onto the mattress. Shane rolled over and collapsed beside him on his back after taking the used condom off and tossing it into the trash. He grabbed at Ilya's shoulder and pulled until Ilya crawled over and laid down half on top of him, his head on Shane's chest. He listened as Shane's pounding heartbeat slowed to a normal rhythm, his own doing the same.
"Fuck," Ilya laughed, his voice fucked out and satisfied. "I see why you enjoy this so much."
Shane laughed as well. throwing an arm over his face. "Was I okay? We've- I've never done that with anyone before," He asked quietly. Ilya smiled up at and pressed a kiss to Shane's chest.
"Very okay," he said. "I have done that before. It was not so good. My coach's son. It was his first time as well, but you are an overachiever. You do so well even when you have never tried before," he told Shane, smiling softly. "He was too rough, we did not know what we were doing. It hurt. Neither of us finished. We just gave up. Worked much better when we reversed next time."
"You said- our first time. After the shoot. You told me you'd been with your coach's son. Is it just me and him, or have you been with other men as well?" He asked, then paled. "Wait, no, you don't have to tell me, I'm sorry, I'm being nosy."
"No, is okay. I am not easily offended. If I do not want to say, I will just tell you to fuck off." Ilya told him with a wry smile. "I... have been with others. Not so many as women, but some. It can be dangerous. They were all okay, but nothing special. Just sex."
Shane felt oddly relieved at that, that he wasn't part of Ilya's serial-fucking like he did with women. He was so gone for Ilya. Last time was nothing in comparison to them now. Ilya looked so sweet like this, with his head resting on Shane, looking up at him through his lashes.
"You make it special," Ilya whispered. Shane gripped him by the hair and pulled him up to his mouth. The kiss was fierce. Shane used his grip to tilt Ilya's head the way he wanted so that he could lick into his mouth. Ilya moaned and crawled into Shane's lap, both hands on his chest.
He pulled away slightly, just enough to whisper into Shane's mouth, "You know, I should thank you. For fucking me so good." He kissed beside Shane's mouth, then his jaw, then the pulse point of his neck, scraping his teeth against the tender skin. Shane shuddered.
He kissed down his chest, down his abs, looking up at Shane with a hungry look in his eyes and a mischievous smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He bit Shane's hip gently, then licked up the lines between his abs, maintaining eye contact the whole time as Shane's breathing sped up and his dick began to harden again. He stuck his tongue out flat, lowering himself and licking up Shane's shaft. Shane fisted his hair with both hands. Ilya opened his mouth and plunged it down onto Shane. Shane's hips lifted up off the bed, pushing himself deeper into Ilya's throat. He gagged slightly and his eyes filled with tears, but he didn't pull away. He forced Shane in further and began bobbing his head, his cheeks hollowed and flushed. Shane took over his rhythm, controlling his movements, dragging him up and down his length. Ilya gagged, fingers digging into Shane's thighs, but he let him do as he wanted. He took a hand off of Shane's thigh and slipped it between his own, moaning around Shane. His eyes were still fixed on Shane's face as he jerked himself off. Shane couldn't look away. He choked on a particularly hard thrust, and tears ran down his face.
"Oh my god Ilya, you're so, fuck, so pretty, I'm gonna-" His voice broke as he shot come down Ilya's throat. Ilya whined around him before pulling off with a wet pop and smiling lazily up at him.
"I am pretty?" He teased.
"The prettiest, you asshole," Shane smiled.
Shane stood in the doorway, redressed and cleaned up. He turned to look at Ilya one last time before he had to go. He was sprawled on the wrecked bed, Chin propped up on his fist, just staring at Shane.
"What?" He asked.
"Nothing," he said. "Good night, Shane."
Shane shook his head, smiling. "Good night, Ilya."