Sunday Worship
2.4k. Shane Hollander//Ilya Rozanov. Thigh worship. Thigh fucking. Shane's white socks.
“I bet your legs are killing you. They need extra attention, I think.” Ilya says as he kisses Shane’s legs all over. “My whole body is killing me.” Shane pauses. “Actually, can you take my socks off too? I think they’re too tight, my calves need to breathe.” Ilya looks up at him and grins, “Sorry, that’s my one rule for tonight.” He kisses the hem of Shane’s sock. “These socks are staying on.”
Here's my thigh worship fic! For all you ShaneThigh enjoyers, and ShaneSocks enjoyers. It's actually my second hollanov fic. I haven't written anything since 2012, so I hope it's ok.
You can read it below the cut!
Tampa 2017 All-Star Weekend
Ilya felt a massive weight off his shoulders. He was so worked up over Shane, but in a different way this time. Usually, it’s because he’s always thinking of Hollander’s perfect freckles, his firm chest, or his soft and comforting thighs. This time, he was overthinking countless scenarios about Shane’s potential future with Rose Landry.
The last time they spoke was two months ago. It’s not like they usually keep up with each other, but this particular instance was especially heartwrenching. And Ilya couldn’t figure out why. It’s not like they’re actually together or anything. What Ilya has with Hollander is just casual hookups. Then why did it hurt so much seeing endless paparazzi photos of Shane with Rose Landry?
None of that mattered anyway. That was all over. He saw Shane for the first time in two months back at the hotel bar. He looked gorgeous in his casual white suit, with the Florida sun making his warm brown eyes glow. Shane confirmed to Ilya that anything that ever was with Rose Landry, is over.
Ilya is so relieved and happy he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Might as well hit up the hotel gym, blow off some steam. There is the big All-Star game this weekend anyway, it’ll be good to get a workout in.
~~~
As soon as Ilya opens the door, he sees him. Shane Hollander is already here, doing leg presses by himself. He can see how much he’s sweating from here. His hair is soaked in sweat, beads of sweat racing down his temples. Ilya stares at Hollander’s legs a little bit too much. His thighs are shaking with every press, Ilya might pass out.
He snaps out of it at the sound of Shane’s voice, “Hey, Rozanov. I’m about finished here with my legs. Could you spot me at the bench?”
“Sure, Hollander.” Ilya is a good teammate after all. He wouldn’t want his captain hurting himself on the bench before the big game.
Shane exhales as he finishes his last leg press. He grabs a towel and wipes away the sweat off his face and takes a long swig from his water bottle.
They meet at the bench, with Ilya already in position ready to spot. Shane sits on the bench, and leans back to grab the bar. Ilya looks down at Shane, with hands ready in position to catch the bar, and winks at Shane. Shane blushes, and curls his lips into a soft smile back at Ilya.
Shane begins his workout. It’s almost impossible to not look up directly at Ilya. He’s standing right there, above his head, all six feet three inches of him. Sometimes, Shane tries to catch a glimpse up his shorts. Is he wearing underwear? Is he hard?
Focus Hollander.
Ilya is enjoying the view of Shane below him like this. He’s constantly catching glances at Shane’s thighs again. Shane always wears the shortest shorts when he works out. He says they’re comfy, or whatever, but Shane knows what he’s doing. He knows his own thighs drive Ilya absolutely crazy.
With every press, Shane lets out a grunt of exertion. Ilya is trying so hard to not get hard by all of this. But knowing Shane Hollander, anything can make his dick perk up. Maybe if Ilya actually pops an erection, his dick will be in the way of Shane’s face.
Shane can’t ignore it now, Ilya is definitely getting turned on. It’s impossible to not notice the tent setting up camp inside Rozanov’s shorts, especially at this angle with his junk literally right in front of his face. Shane sees it as a challenge. Can he get Ilya fully hard just by working out? Right here in this public hotel gym? Shane opens his legs further on the bench, grunting and groaning as he pushes and pulls the bar to his chest. Shane makes deep eye contact with Ilya, in a way that says I know how turned on you are right now.
“This is my last rep.” Shane says as he lets out a breath.
He pumps the bar, “Fourteen,” once more, “Forty.” Shane reaches all the way up, extending his arms carefully to put the bar back in its place. Ilya helps him, and grabs the bar, just close enough to barely touch Hollander’s hands.
Shane slumps his arms to his sides, exhausted and panting. Ilya reaches for Shane’s nearby towel and water bottle, and hands them to the worn out athlete below him.
“Is that what I think it is?” Ilya asks, curiously.
“Just like old times.” Shane responds with a smirk. He sits up on the bench and takes the towel and water bottle from Ilya and squirts it into his mouth.
“I better head back. I should shower all this sweat off me.” Shane gathers the rest of his things. By the time he’s about to head out the door back to his room, Ilya is gone. Ilya didn’t even work out, he just spotted Shane the whole time and got too turned on to do anything else. Shane quietly laughed to himself alone in the gym, just like old times.
~~~
Back at room 1440, Shane is freshly showered, sprawled on the bed still exhausted from his workout. He threw on whatever was left in his bag. A Montreal Metros t-shirt, loose fitting shorts, and compression crew socks. Maybe the special socks will help with his sore leg muscles. He closed his eyes and focused on his muscles screaming at him. Why did he decide to tell Ilya his room number when he’s this exhausted to do anything? He better not be on all fours, that’s for sure. He feels like he might collapse if he does anything but lay here.
His phone buzzes on the nightstand next to him.
Lily: Here
Shane forces himself to get up and answer the door. Ilya steps in, and greets Shane with a sexy smile.
“You must be tired. Why don’t you rest on the bed and let me take care of you?” Ilya says as he gives him a quick kiss and gently pushes Shane back to the bed.
“That sounds wonderful.” Shane practically throws himself back on the bed again, letting out a loud exhausted sigh.
Ilya crawls on top of him, planting kisses all the way up Shane’s body. Taking extra time to stop at Shane’s thighs. He nibbles on his neck, and Shane hummed.
Ilya reaches a hand behind him, and gently squeezes one of Shane’s thighs.
“I should get you out of these clothes, hm?” Ilya goes in for a kiss and quickly slips his tongue in.
Ilya sits up, straddling Shane now. He reaches around Shane’s body to help him sit up, their bodies pressed against each other. Shane wraps his arms around Ilya’s neck as Ilya lifts his shirt off over his head. As soon as his shirt is off, Shane falls back on the pillow again, eyes closed. He must be so exhausted.
Ilya backs up and hops off the edge of the bed. He reaches for the waistband of Shane’s shorts, slipping them off, while purposefully leaving Shane’s boxer briefs on. He takes a moment to gaze upon Shane’s wonderfully sculpted body. His thighs look so delicious. God, he wants to devour him.
Ilya crawls back onto Shane again, climbing up to his face. This time, he wants to study Shane’s face. Every single freckle. His perfectly kissable lips. Shane’s eyes are still closed. He just wants to lay here and let Rozanov have his way with him.
Ilya kisses him deeply, cradling Shane’s cheeks in his hands. He moves his kisses down onto his face, his jaw, his adams apple, his collarbone. All the way down until he reaches his thighs.
“I bet your legs are killing you. They need extra attention, I think.” Ilya says as he kisses Shane’s legs all over.
“My whole body is killing me.” Shane pauses. “Actually, can you take my socks off too? I think they’re too tight, my calves need to breathe.”
Ilya looks up at him and grins, “Sorry, that’s my one rule for tonight.” He kisses the hem of Shane’s sock. “These socks are staying on.”
“That’s a weird rule. My legs are screaming.”
“It’s not my fault you look so sexy wearing just socks.” Ilya squeezes and massages Shane’s calves. “Besides, I’ll help you feel better.”
“Not true. I’ve still got my boxers on.”
“Ah, those will be coming off. Don’t worry.”
Ilya begins working on Shane’s lower half. Starting at his feet. He takes one foot with both hands, his thumbs massaging the ball of his feet, just below his toes. He works his hand down his foot, now massaging the heel.
“Okay, that’s really nice.” Shane admits.
Ilya swaps feet. Doing the same routine to Shane’s other foot. He runs both hands up and down the length of Shane’s socks, squeezing his calves with every pass.
His hands reach Shane’s delicious thighs, finally. He wraps both hands around one thigh. They’re so massive he needs to handle them with both hands. Ilya’s strong hands begin working Hollander’s thighs, squeezing and rubbing them in small circles all over. His hands start just above the kneecap, and slowly crawl up his thigh. His fingers just reach Shane’s ass, and his thumbs barely meet his hip bone. As his hand gently slides between Shane’s legs, he twitches in response.
Ilya gives the same attention to Shane’s other thigh. Carefully massaging Hollander’s muscular legs. Ilya is obsessed with Shane’s thighs, and is loving this more than he expected. He’s still fully clothed, but already filled with arousal. Ilya gets cozy in between both of Shane’s legs. He grabs Shane’s leg to the right of him, and opens his leg further wide. Ilya plants kisses all over Shane’s thigh, he softly giggles when the kisses reach the sensitive skin on the inside.
Ilya works his mouth higher up now, kissing and burying his face into Shane’s boxers. Of course, Shane is hard. Ilya could clearly tell all the attention to his legs and thighs while avoiding his crotch entirely was getting him worked up. He kisses Shane’s abs, and his belly just above the waistband of his boxers. Now, he frees Shane’s hungry cock. But he won’t give him what he wants, not just yet. He gently kisses the length of Shane’s erection, from the base all the way up to the head. Shane is squirming with anticipation.
Ilya looks up at Shane as his tongue grazes his wet slit. He still doesn’t look, he only squeezes his eyes shut tight, “Oh my fuck-” Shane moans.
Teasing him more, he uses his tongue to lick the length of the firm shaft in front of him. Giving extra attention to the backside of the head, the extra sensitive spot that makes him go absolutely nuts.
“Holy shit, Rozanov.” His dick is throbbing, begging to be sucked. He’s never seen Hollander get so antsy before.
Ilya is hungry for it too, practically drooling to taste his dick. He finally gives in. His lips wrap around the head of Shane’s cock. Working his tongue and mouth deeper and deeper. His arms are underneath Shane’s legs, and his hands are gripping his hips. Shane reaches down and grabs Ilya’s hands as he sucks him off. Shane squeezes Ilya’s hands as he rocks his hips, almost gently thrusting into Ilya’s mouth.
“Fuck. Don’t stop, I’m gonna come.” Shane pleads. That’s Ilya’s cue to back off. He pops Shane’s wet dick out of his mouth and looks up at him.
“Not yet. I’m not done with you.” He crawls up Shane’s body once more, and kisses him hard. Shane grabs Ilya’s shirt and rips it off over his head. Then he reaches for Ilya’s pants and boxers, and begins to slide them off. Ilya gets off the bed and takes them the rest of the way off, freeing his own erection.
“I have an idea.” Ilya says with lust in his eyes.
“Anything. I just need you.”
Ilya bends down and grabs a travel size bottle of lube he had in his pants. He squeezes a generous amount on his hard dick, and strokes himself to get ready. Next, he grabs Shane’s ankles and slides him towards him, with his ass just barely hanging off the edge. He holds his legs up, and brings his feet together so his legs are closed. With both feet resting on Ilya’s shoulder, he grabs the lube one more time and squeezes it onto his fingers. He begins lathering in between Shane’s thighs, making it nice and slick.
Ilya pushes his dick in between Shane’s closed thighs. This is exactly what he wanted. He loves Shane’s thighs so much he wanted to fuck them. It’s all he could think about while he was at the gym.
“Fuck yes,” Ilya moans, “Your thighs are perfect.”
Shane wants to make the space between his thighs tighter, so he crosses his legs and squeezes hard on Ilya’s dick. Ilya hugs Shane’s legs as he thrusts against his firm and muscular thighs. To Ilya, this is heaven.
“Stroke yourself. I’m close.”
“I don’t think I need to.” Shane breathes. The sensation of Ilya’s dick rubbing against his thighs, in close proximity to his balls, is already enough to set him over the edge.
Ilya thrusts faster, and hugs his legs tighter.
“Fuck, Hollander!” Ilya almost screams as he comes so hard he feels dizzy. His release shot so far some of it landed on Shane’s chin.
Shane squeezes his legs together one last time, as his own orgasm explodes onto his stomach.
“Oh my god,” Shane panted, “I didn’t think I could do that again.” He’s shocked by the fact that he was able to reach orgasm hands free, again.
“It’s your own fault, your thighs are that delicious.”
Ilya kisses Shane’s ankle next to him, and gently sets his legs down. He heads to the bathroom and grabs a fresh towel to get Shane cleaned up, making sure he doesn’t have to lift a finger.
Ilya snuggles up to Shane back in bed, resting his head in his lap and looking up at him.
“You like my thighs that much, huh?” Shane said with a smile.
“My favorite.” He kisses the thigh next to him, “So tasty.”
