at the cottage shane comes up to Ilya so much with some sort of bug or critter in his closed fist that ilya is constantly on alert when shane comes near him with a closed hand. heâs like âshane what do you have do you have a bug get away from me shane shane!!!â and shane is laughing and coming closer holding his closed hand out like âbabe its fine just look.â and ilya is like âshane i am so fucking serious right now.â and shane is trying not to double over in laughter because he literally has nothing in his hand.
Jackie and Ilya dread the day Hayden and Shane learn about polyamory (not because they are worried about the two of them becoming partners, but because of the 3+ months of them being awkward and beating around the bush before they do)
i know shane is a bottom and ilya is a top and they both prefer it that way, but shane is also a man of taste and i think we as a fandom are drastically under-using ilya's fantastic ass in fic. theres no way in hell shane wouldn't be grabbing that thing whenever possible. i'm pretty sure he's looking at ilya's ass in the shower scene when he gets hard. shane's grabbing that thing when they make out, he's slipping his hand into ilya's back pocket, he's smacking his ass in the kitchen. he's not smacking his ass in the cens locker room because he's still shane but he's thinking Very Hard about it. he eats it at least once a week. like if your partner had that ass would you be able to resist? shane is only human. #letshanegrabsomeass
Hayden explaining his theory about why Shane wonât bring Boston Lily around to JJ: I think she has ocd or something, Shane always takes the LONGEST showers in Boston before he goes to see her
Okay what I was gonnnn say! Like I do think sometimes Ilya gets like soppy emotional when he is like all the way in Shaneâs throat. Like Ilya is laying on his back legs sprawled out on the bed and Shane is laid between then, his mouth on Ilya, his lips pressed to the soft skin of Ilyaâs groin and his cock is just completely in Shaneâs hot warm throat. He can feel the head of it in the movement of Shaneâs eager swallows, the tight wet velvet of it, so dizzy good that itâs making Ilyaâs chest pound pound pound hard in his chest, his temples, the sides of his neck. It makes his mouth starving, his eyelids heavy it makes his heart fucking ache because Shane loves this. Shane loves him Shane worships him with his mouth. His sweet boy. His love of his life, his completely cock obsessed angel. How on earth did Ilya get so lucky.
Heâs got one hand on Shaneâs cheek, pinky finger playing over his jaw, thumb by his strong nose, feeling the pull of his muscles as he sucks, the flush of hot skin under his palm. His other hand is fisted in the top of Shaneâs silky smooth black hair, using it to press him deeper, deeper, pull him off a little bit when he sees Shane shiver with a gag he canât swallow away.
Theyâve been at it for longer than usual, this, longer than Ilya could usually last like this taken down by Shaneâs throat, but heâd already cum twice inside shane before their shower. This slow dizzy blow job had been the result of their fumbling in bed post shower, all hands and kisses and Shane still pretty and soft and heavy lidded and all hands and a shape formed only under Ilyaâs hands and eyes, following him like a magnet, drawn to his mouth, his eyes, his warmth. Heâs all soft cheek smiles and grabby hands and happy hums and wriggles of his toes, happily fidgeting feet. Heâs delayed laughter and snuggling closer closer.
It hadnât taken much for Shane to nose and kiss his way down Ilyaâs body, pushing him back and finding the heat half hardness of his cock with a happy sigh.
Ilya watches him now, hair haloed by the warm low light of the room, his big brown eyes pretty park and wet and and slides his thumb to the corner of Shaneâs mouth, where itâs shiny and slick with spit. Sometimes Ilya wishes he could kiss him while he did this, over his face and the corners of his lips as he fed him his cock. So he does the next best thing and presses his thumb to the soft swollen pink corner of his mouth.
And Shane. Shane- his eyes flutter from where they had half closed, tear webbed lashes frame the warmth depth of them and Ilyaâs cock throbs at the site of him. Heâs truely so fucking beautiful. He tilts his head just so and parts his mouth impossibly the small stretch more and sucks in Ilyaâs thumb into his mouth too. Like he could have been hungry for more of him, despite his mouth already being so full that saliva was pooling at Ilyaâs base, in the dark hair around the base of his cock.
Ilya tightens his hand in Shaneâs hair, arm shaking slightly as he just grips, tries to maintain any control he still has. âFuck sweetheartâ he whispers, voice in awe and Shaneâs eyes light up with his words, watch Ilya like melted brown sugar and he fucking glows. Heâs so fucking beautiful, so fucking happy to take Ilya, to be stretched to fit him. Ilya ruts his hips up and feels Shane swallow, feels his own cock drag against his thumb, both against Shaneâs hot velvet tongue.
âYou are so fucking perfectâ Ilya breaths, lower stomach strains and he tugs his thumb at Shaneâs cheek, watches his mouth pull open, watches his swollen puffy mouth move under his touch, the way Shane keens, moans around him.
âMy perfect little thingâ Ilyaâs eyes are starving over Shane, tracing every detail of him over and over over. Itâs unbelievable, this gorgeous boy in his bed this sweetheart slut who wants the most intimate part of Ilya to live on his tongue. Who only ever wants more. Needs Ilya, in a way that feels like home rather than taking. Home is here. Shane between his legs, swallowing his heartbeat.
Ilya keeps the slow fuck of his hips up and up and the sound is wet and drool starts slipping down his thumb, his wrist and Shane just rocks his head into it, moaning like itâs heaven, like itâs saviour. Ilya isnât sure what life he lived- existed in- what incarnation of him was so pure as to be rewarded with this. Nothing feels possible of deserving it, besides it being what Shane needs.
Shane garbles around him, some kind of word heâs tried to form, and then heâs nuzzling down, pressing his nose to Ilyaâs pubes and swallowing and Ilyaâs cock throbs throbs throbs in his mouth so fucking heavy and full and Ilya could die like this, a sweet leech demanding his pleasure forever until he couldnât give anymore.
âShane, fuck sweetheart your mouth. Your mouthâ Ilya canât find better words, hand slides through Shaneâs hair to the back of Shaneâs neck and takes it firm in his wide dry palm, massaged and roughs at it in a way that makes Shaneâs shoulder, body, sway with it.
Shaneâs eyes are closed now, head low as he takes Ilyaâs small thrusts and Ilya misses his face, his eyes, slides his thumb out of Shaneâs mouth and smears the spit over the apple of a freckled cheeks, watches it shine under low light and wonders if itâs horrible to feel like a god like this, an angel at his feet, devout to him.
âLook at me zaychikâ Ilya croons, pinching Shaneâs cheek between his thumb and finger, making him work the keep the seal of his mouth on Ilyaâs cock. Shane whines, low and he pulls back enough to look up at Ilya again, wet with fresh effort tears and Ilya thinks what a perfect tragedy heâll be the only person in the world to know what that looks like, Shane Hollander getting everything he needs. How fucking beautiful he is, happy and relaxed and being needed, needing. Tied in to Ilya where they both belong, connected.
âYouâre so beautiful bunnyâ Ilya sighs, draws his still wet thumb over Shaneâs brows, down his nose, under his eye. âSo beautiful with your cockâ he coos, watches Shaneâs cheeks glow dark red and Ilya rubs the back of his knuckles over the colour. Wishes he could spread it with his soft touch.
Shane blinks up at him, hazed and lovely and Ilya opens his hand on Shaneâs face, slaps once, twice, gently, and then pushes his hand back to rub his fingers over Shaneâs ear, thumb his earlobe, trace his jaw. Shane shivers, Ilya watches him roll his hips down into the bed and he lets the weight of his head lean heavy into Ilyaâs palm.
âFuck Shane. You love itâ Ilya whimpers, throbs wet into Shaneâs throat and he tenses his stomach to hold his orgasm. âLove me so goodâ Ilya feels insane, light headed, drunk on adoration, beauty, need. âLove my cock so good, bunny, again and again and again, you need meâ Ilya shakes Shanes cheek gently. âDonât you? Need me. My cockâ he asks and Shane nods, his hand scrambles from its death grip on Ilyaâs hip, searching and finds Ilyaâs, fingers a desperate tangle.
âNeed you tooâ Ilya nods, fucks his hips up in earnest, savours the sound of it, wet and messy and his own private prayer. âNeed you too sweetheart, need you so bad fuckâ Ilya is fraying, Shaneâs eyes donât leave his as his hips shake and shake and heâs driving his cock deep, deep, one hand gripping all over Shaneâs head and neck before god and life and death and all the brilliant parts in between strike through the centre of him out out his cock he shoots thick and wet again and again and again, whispering out âI love you I love you I love youâ in a mix of Russian and English, the sounds warping warm and colours low.
Shane pulls off with a small cough and Ilya is gathering him up, orgasm drunk and messy, pulling Shane up up until he can lick into his mouth, hands cradling his face, mouth sucking at Shaneâs swollen mouth, hand rubbing down his back.
âShaneâ he whispers into his mouth, hands all over him, his face, his neck, his shoulders, his ass, gripping, pulling. He feels insane. Canât stop thinking of pretty brown eyes and a wet needy devotional mouth. Of the love of his life, of being someone elseâs. Shane just kisses kisses kisses back, nuzzles his face into Ilyaâs neck when he gets tired and finds Ilyaâs thumb to his mouth, to suck at gently as they land back to earth.
David Hollander is definitely the type of man to randomly put on a song and pull his wife up to dance with him, especially if sheâs stressing about something, or worrying, or upset, or just because. She will usually lightly protest, honey, I need to finish this email, but sheâll happily go along nonetheless.
David does it for the first time in front of Ilya when the boys are visiting and Shane and Yuna are planning (arguing) about something new brand deal.
He puts a song on the record player (Yuna has given up teaching him the Alexa), and he takes Yunaâs hand without a word. She protests that they need to plan out these contract terms and how his son is being difficult about it.
Shane starts to protest at that, but doesnât get far until Ilya pulls him up to dance, too. A very embarrassed Shane goes willingly. Heâs watched his father do this for years but never thought he would be pulled up to dance one day. From the fond looks from his parents, they probably didnât either.
Shane meets Ilyaâs smile with a half-hearted glare, but canât deny swaying to the music in his boyfriendâs arms feels much better than stressing about a brand deal. Ilya makes a note to ask David for anymore tips and tricks.
Guys Ilya gets so good at knowing Shaneâs needs. Like he just finds his way to make Shane comfortable, it becomes his most important job- to make the world more Shane shaped. His Shane, whoâs pretty strong shoulders hunch and bundle and band with tension when itâs loudloudloud when itâs too much.
His Shane who canât do too many noises his shane who finds some textures wrong, sensations sharp, lights overwhelming. His Shane who likes- needs things soft, his Shane who pushes, works, flourishes under fluorescent lights and on a ice cold rink and in skates that pinch, heavy layers of gear, gets pushed and slammed and then asked and photographed and posed. His Shane who needs things soft but lives in hard for so much of his time, for so long because of his passion for hockey, because he wants to fit in, because he wants to be good. Because the world isnât made to be soft for him and he seems to accept it. His Shane who exhausts himself existing a lot of the time because itâs out of his comfort.
Ilya, however doesnât think of one thing he wouldnât try and change with his own to hands to make Shane feel safe, good. To make Shane realise he doesnât always have to be good, that the world could owe him and accommodate go him to make it better. Ilya would bend anything to his will to make even one thing easier for Shane. And itâs small things at the start, he replaces his sheets in Boston with the ones Shane had at the cottage, at his apartment in Montreal (because he had been listening to Shane explain the high thread count and the softness of them even when heâd been pretending to shrivel up and die on the soft while Shane did laundry, he had been listening because he loves the boring Shane Hollander who cares deeply about the sheets he sleeps on).
Then itâs other easy things, tossing shirts and hoodies of his that seem to personally offend Shane. (He figures out quickly that itâs the synthetic and silk fibres that Shane hates most) and really itâs no chore because he loves the way Shane curls up into him like a content cat nuzzling his face into Ilyas shirt when itâs a fabric he likes (or even better, the best when Shane comes downstairs dressed in ilyas hoodie, sweat pants, his smile still a little shy all these years in like heâs getting away with something, like Ilya wouldnât offer his heart from his own chest for Shane). Easy still to keep buying the body wash that Shane had loved, almost scentless but a clean soapy faint spicy smell, to get dimmers on all the light fixtures in his house in Boston (then in Ottawa). Easy to keep the volume a couple clicks lower on the action scenes in the movies heâs watching, to keep the bedroom cool and to play the games on his phone on mute.
It becomes natural to give Shane squeezes firm and strong on the back of his neck when he starts to get a bit too worked up, hands a little frantic (planning, talking, fighting, fucking). Its second nature to lay on top of Shane when heâs fidgeting while they try to relax (Shane is so bad at relaxing) to press his head to his chest and let his full body weight help sink Shane into the touch. He doesnât even notice anymore letting Shane play with his fingers, his jumpers, his curls, fingers working soothing circles. (He really loves indulging Shaneâs oral fixation, heâd feel greedy if he didnât know how badly Shane needed it too, how he goes all glossy eyes and pliant and happy, sweet and calm and in his skin so comfortably with his mouth full of fingers or cock or Ilyas tongue. But also sometimes itâs Shane falling asleep after sex with ilyas thumb in his mouth, sucking it for comfort. Ilyas knows Shane wonât let himself have that unless itâs after sex, then he can hide it under being fucked out rather than desire. They donât talk about it, but Ilya adores when Shane pulls his hand to his mouth just for that. He feels so needed, so good to help soothe shane)
There are bigger things that are harder to change, press conferences, lights of cameras, chaos of photoshoots, award nights where for so long Ilya just has to watch from a distance as his Shane winds up tighter and tighter and tighter because itâs all wrong (wrong sounds sights smells, too much too much) for Shane and Ilya has to wait and wait until they are finally alone and he can undo it for him, bring him back to himself safe and warm and comfortable, Ilyas. When he can be by his husbands side he does what he can to bend these to his will too, to offer the rookies or himself to do press after a long game or when he can see the twitch in Shaneâs jaw the quiet of his eyes that tell ilyas heâs already a long way away in his head.
He keeps Shane tucked close to him at awards, gives them breaks away from it outside under the guise of him needing a smoke break. He enjoys it, caring for Shane, being the one to make a place for his boy to shine. To see his laugh soft and genuine with their teammates when they are out instead of it being tight and skittering. Love when Shane is relaxed enough to make jokes or indulge Ilya in a soft kiss, softened by not having to have his protective walls up from being overwhelmed.
Itâs so easy, in a club or bar, to pull Shane into him, fit his head to his chest and to cradle Shaneâs head in his large palm, hand fitted over his ear to muffle sounds, so worth it for the way Shane melts into him a little more, the way Shane can stay out longer and enjoy himself when Ilya makes it right for him.
And Ilya will never get over having the privilege of making the world more comfortable for Shane, the honour of knowing him so well.
shane falling asleep while cockwarming mmmmm just a thought
Like they're both laying in bed and of course they're all snuggled up and maybe shane starts lazily playing with ilyaâs waistband. Nothing crazy, just lightly dragging his fingers along the band, nails softly scratching enough for ilya's tummy to tense every time his nails pass over a particular spot. Shane starts to notice ilya's cock thickening up, maybe it begins to throb and bounce every time shane's nails press a little harder. Shane looks up at ilya without saying anything, ilya already staring back down at him with a soft smile. Shane smiles back, turning his attention back to ilya's cock and begins to shuffle his way down the length of ilya's body. He palms ilya for a while, pressing small kisses into ilya's exposed hip that his cheek rested against. Eventually he tugs ilya's boxers down, sitting up enough to drag them down his legs and toss them towards the hamper in the room. He grips ilya's cock softly, hot little breaths fan over it as he stares in awe for a minute. He's always so entranced by the shape and weight, how beautiful it looks and how well Ilya knows how to use it. Shane smiles and presses little kisses to the tip, kitten licking the slit and closing his eyes as he finally tastes him. He wraps his lips gently around the head, suckling little by little until he pops off and turns to glance back up at ilya. Ilya has one hand propped behind his head, the other hand resting on his stomach. "Can i just keep it in m'mouth?" shane asks quietly. Ilya runs a hand through his soft black strands and smiles "take what you need, malysh." And so shane lays his head back down onto ilya's hip, his mouth lazily wrapping back around the heavy weight. He sucks softly, his lips wrapped around his teeth as he keeps his head in one spot. His tongue drags on the underside, licking in slow strokes, the hand that once held ilya's cock now draped across his hips and tugging him into his body. "So good, sweetheart. You feel good, yeah?" And shane lets out a sweet small hum, nuzzling his face further into ilya's hip. He begins to suck on the tip, his eyes fluttering closed as he focused on how relaxed and sweet he felt. He suckled and held on to ilya's thighs, relishing in the act. Eventually ilya starts to notice small puffs of air evening out on his pubic bone, shane's grip on his hip beginning to release just the slightest bit. He notices the way shane's jaw starts to slack, his lips still suckling like there's a pacifier in his mouth lulling him to sleep along with the hand petting his hair. He realizes shane has fallen asleep cockwarming him. Ilya smiles and feels his cock twitch at the sight, trying his best to keep himself contained as to not awake his sleeping beauty.
Luca staying with Shane and Ilya for a few days while his place is being fumigated. Heâs lying in bed when Hollanovâs sex sounds fill his room. Luca sends a video to the team group chat (the one without Shane and Ilya). Itâs of him staring blankly into the camera. In the background, you can clearly hear Ilya moaning loudly. Luca is like âI canât listen to Shane suck Ilyaâs soul out of his body for the next 2 days. Can I stay with one of you?â and Troy is like âYou can come over and listen to me suck Harrisâs soul out of his bodyâ and the other players respond with similar stuff like âYouâre welcomed to listen to me fuck my wifeâ and Luca remembers heâs a hockey player with money and checks into a hotel.
