Short diary like entries of Shane and Ilya. These are the small vivid moments as their relationship unfold.
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Where I Belong
Ilya’s day off from playing hockey. A day in his life and some of his thoughts.
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Shane Hollander: My remedy
Moments in Shane’s life where he’s reminded who Ilya is to him.
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Hanky-panky with a stranger?
Shane is inspired to do something about his dream last night.
Smut with explicit content. Linked to my A03 account because tumblr might not like it here. Please be advised. Thank you.
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Ilya: I am flippin' awesome
Aside from putting his best in playing hockey, Ilya also puts his best in the kitchen.
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Afraid of the dark
When the days are feeling dark, what do you do? When the circumstances aren’t ideal, what happens?
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Who are you Ilya (Multi chapter; currently a wip)
Well, what can the ordinary Shane Hollander do against this gorgeous hunk of a man?
Parts: (1) , (2) ...
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My pen and my Love for thee
Anyway, in an alternate universe, here is Ilya writing and dedicating poems for Shane. You may or may not have read some of the poems, it’s from my other work called #My Library of I Love Yous and maybe this is how his book title came about.
(You can search the hashtag here to find the posted poems)
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Losing a piece is losing my peace (Multi chapter; currently a wip)
The voice inside Ilya's head is nagging him like clock work once again. He's tired. If a piece of him is lost, does he still want this?
Parts: (1), (2)
Ilya Rozanov's prose and poetry dedicated to his husband, Shane Hollander🌹
Maybe, it started with a maybe
was there a possibility of a 'could be'?
I didn't imagine what life is
but all I know is this,
It was killing me to be mysterious
It was poisoning me knowing this is serious
Shane Hollander,
From the mountains to the sea
Thank you for choosing me
The voice inside Ilya's head is nagging him like clock work once again. He's tired. If a piece of him is lost, does he still want this?
Our dedicated song of the day is - Heaven, Troy Sivan ft. Betty Who
Here for: Part 1
※ ※ ※
2014, June
If not each other's houses, it's hotel rendezvous. Sometimes, it's just easier to sneak in and out this way and maybe less suspicious as opposed to risking being seen in their respective houses.
A sultry moan escapes Shane as Ilya goes down on him. It's been quite a while since he felt Ilya's wondrous tongue work it's way licking around his hard dick. “Ilya,” he calls out groaning. The sensation is making him delirious and he doesn't want to cum with just a blow job.
Ilya pops and looks up when he felt Shane's hand trying to pry his head away while down there. He sees Shane's longing and the glint of lust in those eyes signifies he wants more. He's more than happy to oblige, after all, he wants the same thing. He wants Shane and so much more.
“Uhm,” Ilya cleared his throat. He's not sure but he thinks it has to be said nonetheless. “6 years..”
Shane glanced at Ilya with curiosity on his face. Is he supposed to respond? he thought, but he kept silent instead. “Since the first time I met you.” Ilya continued. “Meeting consistently like this..” he breathes “..is fun. I like being with you.” he paused to look at Shane in the eyes.
“I like being with you too,” a slight quiver that might have looked like a smile is on Shane's face.
“You've captivated me ever since.” Ilya supplied. His hands gently touching Shane's face. “You're always here,” he points to the side of his head “and here.” his finger moved down towards his chest, over where his heart is. “But, right now..” there's heat rising on his face and he's unsure if a tear is going to escape.
Uncertainty grips at Shane's heart. “But?”
Ilya's lips tremble. “I'm tired.”
“What does that mean?” Shane asked almost instantly. He shifted in bed and grabbed Ilya's arm. He feels jittery and he doesn't like it.
Ilya let the silence between them linger a little bit longer. His eyes are scanning every inch of Shane's face. He can see the myriad of emotions going through the other's face. “I want to tell people or atleast Marly,” he can hear his voice and the 'I' is ringing loudly in his head. “I want to be able to walk outside with you, without worrying.” he can imagine the gears inside Shane's head spinning, “I want to say your name out loud, without fear.”
Shane gulps as he listens. “I..too,” He can feel a knot in his stomach and at one point he's feeling nauseous about the idea of all this. “But,” he stares at Ilya's face. He can't properly think. It's overwhelming him.
Ilya feels guilty. He knows he sounds selfish at the moment and yet he's unable to stop. It's been all about him and what he wants. Has he even thought about Shane? About what he wants? All he knows is he's tired. He can't go on like this anymore.
“Ilya,” Shane's voice cracks as he mentions his name desperately. His grip tightening a little bit.
“We've been holding our breaths for so long,” Ilya brings him in for a tight hug. Trying to comfort both of them. “I want to breathe, do you?”
“I..” Shane understands, or atleast he thinks he does right now. “I do, too, yes.” they're both running thin. Stretched out for long enough that anymore of this and it will all easily snap and break. “Do you want us to stop?”
Whatever this is, casual as they both like to think about it and never admit, and being asked that question.. it breaks Ilya's heart. “No,” he whispers. “But I want you to know.. I might not be able to hold on for long enough..”
“Okay,” Shane nods in understanding and his grip loosens a little bit. Seeking that grounding feeling he places a chaste kiss on Ilya's shoulder. “Okay,” he repeats, this time for himself.
“What do you want to do?”
Shane sinks back into the covers. He feels vulnerable and small that it clouds his thoughts. “I need to think,” he responds in a soft voice. “I don't know.”
Ilya recognizes the panic even though Shane's trying to fight it. He, too, dips and cradles Shane in his embrace to soothe and comfort the other. Shane plans meticulously and he needs to think. He knows that very well. Ilya gives in to the silence—it's what they both need right now.
Shane's shallow breathing seem to have evened out. In the dead of the night, under the comfortable sheets, sleep slowly takes over.
What then? What happens now? This safe space, the peace that Shane brings—this is Ilya's heaven. If it collapses, would there still be heaven?
The voice inside Ilya's head is nagging him like clock work once again. He's tired. If a piece of him is lost, does he still want this?
Our dedicated song of the day is - Heaven, Troy Sivan ft. Betty Who
(I am just dumping this here..)
※ ※ ※
2013, June
There is no shortage of delightfully hot women in Boston. Being a hockey superstar, tall, attractive as hell, outwardly charismatic and, seemingly open, Ilya can go home and spend a night with practically anybody with just a wink.
It flares up physical desires instantly, doesn't it? Imagine THE Ilya Rozanov walking towards you with a drink on hand? I'm pretty sure 'no' isn't an answer at that moment in time. Who hasn't thought of crawling into his bed and spend a lustful night even just once?
“Marly,” Ilya calls him out. “I'm out.”
Cliff gives him a once over and a knowing look. He knew at this moment the man just wants to be distracted and how does that work? For Ilya.. to bring back this woman he's been looking at the past 30 minutes. “Okay. See you then.”
“Thank you.” a lot of people may have assumed how much of an asshole he is but not to the people that mattered to him, one way or another. Ilya gives Cliff's shoulder a squeeze before he exhales.
Dark long hair (black as a raven to be exact), brownish eyes and luscious lips. Ilya takes in the image right in front of him. Drunk at the thought of.. what if she is him and what if he's doing to her what he really wants to do to him.. all of these what ifs swirling around wasted brain. Holy Shit! This is just making him less horny. Alcohol and forcing your mind to conjure an image of someone is not the best combination to ever exist. He is certainly flaccid. What else can he do?
The hot wet mouth that's been giving his dick attention isn't stimulating enough. This is supposed to be a good distraction tonight.. a lick on the underside, a pop on the tip and a few bobs and yet nothing. She must have noticed and to try to please Ilya she tried to move up, hoping for some hot kisses. She tries to bring their faces closer but right then and there Ilya made a decision—he lightly pushes her away.
Ilya exhales and shakes his head. “I'm sorry.”
“Wha-” she is dumbfounded. Confused even.
Ilya immediately zips his pants up and walks over one of his night stands. He pulls out some cash to give to her. It is not payment for her service, to some degree he wanted her tonight, rather it is payment for her to take a cab home. If it was any other day, maybe Ilya would have atleast walked her out and called a cab for her but not tonight. He is mentally checked out, so it seems. He is purposefully pushing her away and the least he could do is pay for a mere cab fare.
Fuck! Now he feels even shittier. The situation couldn't get any worse, could it? It was just a series of text messages earlier, as usual. But the distance and the yearning shakes him to his core.
They're friendly, yes and that's cute in private but they're also rivals in public. They're both living a complex life—expected to present as one thing but truly wants to become another thing.
Ilya: Hey
Ilya: Should I give you a tour of Boston?
Shane: Why?
Ilya snorts before firing off another text.
Ilya: Because why not?
Shane: I will think about it. Thank you for the offer.
Ilya shakes his head, even in text Shane sounds as polite.
Ilya: There's a great place I know you would like.
Shane: Oh? Are you sure?
Ilya: Yes!
Shane: I am curious. Where?
Ilya: my apartment 😏
Boston and Montreal faces off each other frequently through out the season and thus, an agreement has been made. Ilya and Shane will meet only when they are playing in each other's cities. Easy, isn't it? It should have been. It's just about a handful of days out of 365.
Ilya takes his forgotten phone from the bed, opens gallery and scrolls through his albums. He is looking for something from a while back. This is the only thing he has for now and he's been able to keep it as it poses less suspicion. Atleast, that's what he thinks.
He stares at it longingly—a photo of him and Shane in their sleek black suits while presenting at the MLH awards show. They look awkward as hell but what matters is he has a tangible proof that a man named Shane Hollander exists. A photo he can always look back on. “Shane,” he utters the name tenderly.
In every Universe, in every iteration there is, I will always have this idea that Ilya is full of love—he has so much to give. In the original HR book (and TV series) he might be sassy but he will always be that romantic guy for me.
Anyway, in an alternate universe, here is Ilya writing and dedicating poems for Shane. You may or may not have read some of the poems, it's from my other work called #My Library of I Love Yous and maybe this is how his book title came about.
(You can search the hashtag here to find the posted poems)
Our song of the day is - Fever by Dua Lipa and Angèle
♠
Often times, the world is too loud. Not because people are talking your ears off but because the sights and sounds mingle and forms multiple bubbles of thoughts in your head. What do you then? Carefully, you burst those bubbles. Pluck it out and write it down.
Ilya is chaos, sometimes a little bit too much. He lives his life flamboyantly and yet there is an air of subtlety that no other person can see but one.
He can hear the sound of soft footsteps coming but he kept his eyes focused on the current page. The cadence is a tell, it's his husband.
The door to Ilya's sanctuary is slightly ajar but he knocks nonetheless. “Ilya,”
“Yes, Shane?”
Shane smiles. The timbre of his voice never fails to give him butterflies in his stomach. A decade of marriage and it still feels like that of day one. “Can I join you?”
“Always,” Ilya tracks Shane's movement—to the side table near the window. It's a sunny day. He carefully puts down a vase full of flowers. “Thank you.”
It's of various vibrant flowers most likely from the local florist. There's tulips, daisies, some greens, roses, and irises. It's lovely.
Shane softly hums as he tries to adjust the vase a couple of times. Trying to find that perfect angle that would showcase the colors and the beauty of such a delicate thing. “There,” he sing songs proudly.
“It looks perfect.” Ilya praises him.
Shane winks. He grabs the book he's been reading since a few days ago as he settles at the love seat that's beside the side table. He loves this corner with wide window, it allows the ray of sunshine to illuminate the room. And across his seat is Ilya's work table—a perfect spot for his viewing pleasure.
Time, sometimes, has a funny way of moving. It can go by so fast you barely notice it or it goes slow, giving you the chance to breathe and notice. Right now, it's moving slow and Shane loves it when it does. He is afforded of the luxury to just sit, read and lovingly gaze at his husband who is currently focused on writing.
The way his pen moves signifies the steady stream of thoughts and those words are meticulously being written. The sound of pen scribbling on paper brings him calm. It's like a lullaby.
“Sweetheart,” Ilya calls his name softly.
Shane must have had a dreamy look on his face with the way Ilya smiles at him. “Hmm?”
“Are you half way through your book?”
Oh! Now that he's been asked, it seems he only managed to turn a few pages before zoning out. “Uh,” he paused for a second “no, not really. Not quite.”
Ilya laughs. Shane loves reading but more often than not, he just ends up day dreaming especially inside this comfortable room where they're surrounded by books, pens and, scripts.
“I thought so.”
“But,” Shane tries to reason “that was 4 pages before I zoned out.”
Ilya puts his pen down and gathers his pile of paper. He's making sure to clip it all together neatly, he doesn't want to lose anything, before he stands up to move to the love seat where Shane is. He sighs as he sinks down and immediately Shane scoots in closer. He takes the book from his hand, properly book marks the page and puts it down on the side table.
“Are you bored?” Ilya asks.
“No?” Shane frowns a little “I'm never bored.”
“That's good to know.”
Out of curiosity, Shane asks “Why?”
Ilya tenderly looks at his eyes. He brushes a thumb on his cheeks before he slowly brings their face closer for a tender kiss. “Because..” Ilya gently pulls away but kept their foreheads together, “..I will never get bored of writing about you.”
A representation of his source of creative inspiration, that is who Shane Hollander-Rozanov is—his forever muse.
If you ask him what love is, the answer is Shane Hollander.
If you ask him about emotions, the answer is also Shane Hollander.
A novel. A short story. A poem. It will all contain bits and pieces of who Shane Hollander is and what he brings into Ilya's emotional experiences.
♠
They're not bound by a Monday to Friday, 9AM to 5PM work schedule which means they may or may not have more free time in their hands. Just like today, a Wednesday.
“Okay,” Ilya gently claps his hands to gather the attention of the few people in the crowd. There's just two actually. They sit in a circle in the middle of the living room. “Kids, listen.”
Ilya holds up a bunch of stock cards with different words written on it. Today, he is appointing the little Pike kids for help to brain storm with him so that they can come up with a title for his current collection of poems.
“Each of you will pick 2 cards..” Ilya instructs the unassuming kids “whatever speaks to your heart and then give it to me after.” The kids are clearly mesmerized by his voice that they both stare at his face. “Any questions?”
The kids responded yes in their own way which satisfied Ilya. He shows off his proud uncle smile as he adores Arthur and Amber.
“Your assistants for the day seem very enthusiastic.” Shane chimes as he walks over to the three of them with some drinks and snacks.
Ilya looks up to him, “They are.”
The living room floor is currently littered with paper, some markers and colored pencils. A small white board with scribbles is on the couch. Some of Ilya's pens are on the table.
Jackie, the Marketing manager of their publishing company, dropped the kids this morning to run some errands. She hesitated upon hearing Shane's offer of babysitting for a few hours, telling them she will ask her mother-in-law instead. She's a friend of the family and Shane insisted.
“Ilya needs inspiration,” Shane tells Jackie.
Jackie's brow furrowed “And the toddlers can help with that?”
“Who knows? Maybe.” Shane shrugged.
Ilya already has a few titles in mind. He's been playing with some ideas a few days ago but he doesn't seem convinced that any of it conveys exactly the content of his work. Some of the title sounds okay but it does not feel like it.
Shane is observing from the couch whatever is going on right now.
“Is it working?”
“What is?” Ilya asks.
“Have they picked anything?”
Ilya inspects the 2 cards he's holding. So far Arthur and Amber handed him one each. One says 'confession' and the other says 'awesome'. He hums a response, hmmm. It is something but not quite there yet.
Shane himself grabs a pen and paper. He might as well join in on this creative activity. This could be fun. He scribbles, scribbles and scribbles until he made a list of words he'd thought about ever so randomly: heart, belong, remedy and library were just some.
What else? He's trying to think of vibes this time. Probably trying to be in Ilya's shoes—how his husband's though process works. What grinds his gears. What's in that pretty mind of his?
“Arthur, I like this.” Ilya cooed. “What is this?”
The children clearly already forgot about the task on hand. Both kids has now migrated into drawing and scribbling. Arthur had half of the colored pencils and drew something about the recent activity he's had. It has a smiling sun, a gray building and a few colorful rectangular looking things.
“Library,” Arthur responded. “lot of books.”
“That's true.” Shane interjected.
“Did you like it there?” curious at how much books Arthur had read that day, Ilya asked.
Arthur nodded. “Yes, lot of drawings.”
“And colors, I bet.” Shane chimed with a fond smile on his face.
The drawing definitely caught Ilya's eyes. It's just a simple scribble and yet it feels like there's something luring him. Library, as a place, houses various literaries. There's also music and reference materials like films, manuscripts or recordings.
What is he doing right now? Writing poems.
Is it a collection? Yes.
Will he be turning it into a book? Obviously.
Can this book of poem live in a library? Why not.
A library by definition could also mean a collection of materials.
Shane switched his gaze from the kids to his husband, who now has briefly turned silent. He knows that thinking face. Something is brewing in there. Maybe having the kids today is a good idea. The brain storming is proving to be productive.
“Did I miss anything?” Jackie asked as she and Shane settle at the couch.
“I don't think so,” Shane responded. The house is now a little bit quieter compared to earlier because the culprits have gone down to take their afternoon nap. “Unless..” Shane tilted his head to the direction of where Ilya is also knocked out at a Lazy-boy recliner, comfortable with Arthur sleeping soundly on his chest.
Jackie swoons at the sight. Ilya, the flamboyant, looking so soft with a sleeping child. “Arthur really likes him.”
“It looks like it.” Shane smiles.
“Have you guys come up with the book title?”
“I think..” Shane paused for a second, calibrating what has happened so far. “..we're getting there.”
Jackie looks around as stock cards, the white board and some drawings are still littered across the living room. Quite a lot of words and phrases can be found everywhere. Drawing of various things that toddlers can randomly think of or find interesting.
♠
Ilya adjusts the way his reading glasses sits on the bridge of his nose. With a pen on hand, he's been scribbling for a few minutes now throwing out various combination of words to see if anything sticks and a fitting title would come up.
He tries to rearrange his thought through some questions.
Who is this for? My husband, Shane.
What is this about? A declaration of my love.
What are you doing now? Writing.
How do you express love? Action and words.
Hmm, he looks out the window. Maybe a change from looking at a piece of paper to the world outside will help. It's almost dinner time but there's still sunlight outside and the tree leaves sways with the breeze.
“Knock, knock” Shane announces his presence.
It stirs Ilya away from his thoughts. He smiles. “Hi,”
“Dinner is ready.”
“Thank you,” Ilya held out his hand, asking Shane to come be with him for a moment.
“You're kind of deep in your thoughts,”
“I am,” Ilya admits. “But it's not bad.”
Shane kisses him on the cheek and fondly ruffles his hair before walking away towards the dinning room. “You've been hooked on Arthur's drawing.. and I like that one too.” he winks.
He grins. It's been on his mind since earlier and he knew there's something wonderful in that drawing and before he leaves his office, he writes it down: My Library of I Love Yous
Was it easy
To fall in love?
It's definitely not breezy
but you're I dreamed of
On that Saturday night
I recall delight
Your smile and your eyes
are my forever demise
Shane Hollander,
You've captivated my heart
You and I will never part
♠
Where ever you are, whatever time it is, have a great day! and Thank you 💖
Shane is inspired to do something about his dream last night.
Whatever the question was, Shane's only answer would have been a yes anyway.
There is NO plot here NOR is there hockey. It's just whatever, some smut and maybe fun times.
Today's sound track is - Lady Gaga Sexxx Dreams
⁎ ⁎ ⁎
Tonight's home game is a win. Another one added to the record. The Centaurs fought their way to qualifying for this season's Stanley Cup. Knowing all too well this isn't an easy feat, going out for some (or more) celebratory drinks at their favorite bar isn't up for a debate.
As soon as the team steps in, they all disperse into groups. The rookies together, some at the bar and most of them occupying a booth.
Ilya is with Troy and Bood at the bar. Meanwhile, Shane is with Wyatt and Luca trying to relax and cozy up at the comfortable seats on one of the booths.
“Good game tonight.” Wyatt congratulating. A smile on his face as he looks at both Shane and Luca. “That was a good last minute shot, Luca.”
A little bit shy but Luca is clearly filled with pride. “Thanks. It was because of Shane.”
“It was you,” Shane encourages. “Take the win.”
“Great assist from you though.” Luca added.
“You too,” Shane turned to Wyatt. “Nice saves out there.”
The conversation naturally flowed around game plays and whatnot. Some comics related stuff was also mentioned as well as all different form of art. Random, but that's the fun thing being with friends. And as the clock ticks slowly Shane is building momentum. He's going to make the move, he should.
Shane excused himself from the conversation, not saying much, just a subtle head turn and with eyes that are focused only on one person—his husband, Ilya Rozanov. Both Wyatt and Luca nodded. They know what it meant and they understand.
The music is blasting. The dim lights trying to illuminate corners. Patrons up and about enjoying the ambience.
“Hey,” Shane trying to get Ilya's attention. Sliding on to the stool next to Ilya's.
Turning his head to take a peek, Ilya can see a little bit of a blush on Shane's cheeks. He smiles tenderly. “Hey, what's up?”
Shane already ran a simulation of this scenario in his head a couple of times now. Before his day started today, not during the game and after winning tonight's game. “Uhm,” he buckled for a bit. It's now or never Shane, he tried to persuade himself from backing out and to will his confidence. “Can I get you another shot of vodka?”
Ilya noticed that little bit of shift in Shane's demeanor. What is his husband trying to achieve tonight? He wonders, but decided to go along with it anyway. What's there to lose?
“Cute,” Ilya grinned. “Sure.”
“I heard the vodka here is good.”
“I think so too,” Ilya gave Shane a wink. “That's why I'm here often.”
“Oh! Often?”
“Yeah. What about you?” Ilya asked trying to sound convincingly curious.
Just the thought of this conversation made Shane felt a little bit silly, then again, it's now or never. “Not often, I guess.”
Subjected to said exchange, Troy and Bood tried to ignore what they've heard so far. They are not eavesdropping, the husbands just happen to be there. In their own little bubble as if nobody exists anymore besides the two of them and the equally curious bartender.
Troy was about to ask Bood what in the ever hell is going on but Bood beat him to it. “Don't.”
“What?” Troy sounded offended. He's just curious.
“You're going to.” Bood exhaled. Whatever kinky kind of role play is going on, he's not about to interrupt it. It is, after all, a form of entertainment. It's not every time you'd see a Shane Hollander try to be this bold and in public at that.
Damn! Shane Hollander is clearly a willing participant. Bood and Troy agreeing, having exactly the same thought.
“That sounds tragic.” Ilya said. Continuing the conversation he's having with Shane. “Good place. Good vodka. Beautiful people.”
“I might..”
Now amused at whatever is happening, he has not been briefed nor is this even rehearsed, Ilya decided to turn on his seat—from facing the bar to now fully facing his husband. “Might what?”
“Might come here often..” Shane paused for a second. “If you're here often.”
Ilya nearly burst out a laugh but opted not to. Ilya knows his timing, thank you very much.
“Is getting boring. Would you like to come to my place?” Ilya downed his shot of vodka and gave Shane a wink.
It took Shane a few seconds to respond. Was he even listening? He's not sure. All he knows at this time is that Ilya Rozanov is exuding with sexiness. The adam's apple moving. The gulp. The sound of his voice. The wink. All of it is effectively affecting his senses.
He didn't notice licking his lips but he did. Eyes laser focused on the gorgeous man in front of him. He took a deep breath and responded, “Yes!”
Whatever the question was, Shane's only answer would have been a yes anyway.
Upon hearing his cue, Ilya gave Bood a knowing look. Signalling the Assistant Captain that he will be off and is handing over the control to him. After all, the team is still having fun and some of them are getting more drinks. Troy gave Bood a sympathetic look and a squeeze on the shoulder.
“See you!” Ilya gave a small salute and waved off. Hand tightly gripping his husband's. It's probably going to be an exciting naughty night. But will it?
It doesn't matter. Thank the heavens! It's about time he gets laid.
⁎ ⁎ ⁎
Smut with explicit content. Please be advised. Thank you.
The sheer curtains magnificently filters the night light. The bedroom is painted in the lightest bluish hue—the perfect set-up and a romantic representation of Shane's current sexual desire.
If Ilya wanted to, he could have turned on one of the lamps on the side table to allow the orange tint to illuminate the room a little bit more but fuck that, because Shane looks glorious in this cooler tone instead.
“Ilya,” Shane whispers his name. Breathy and it sends shivers down his spine.
Shane has had a long standing rule of no outside clothes on the bed but tonight it didn't matter. He is sitting on the edge of the bed staring at his husband with his pants clearly getting tight from his hard on.
Tonight's show begins with Shane removing his shirt. The showing of Shane's muscular chest. Strong and mighty. Stunning. He steps a little bit closer and in between Ilya's legs. He grabs a hold of Ilya's hand and guided it towards him to undo his pants. Ilya gladly obliged—unbuttoned and unzipped as instructed. Ilya looked up at Shane with mouth agape when he felt Shane caress his face. He leaned in to it when Shane said, “Good. Pull it down.”
No please nor thank you. It was firm. Straight forward.
Ilya swallows the lump in his throat as his eyes tracks Shane's next movements—unprompted his husband knelt down. Worked his hands to removing his pants this time around. “Shane..” he grunts. This slow progression of events is making him delirious. His length now rigid and his patience is about to run out. “Open up.”
There's something feral about the fact he's just taking right now instead of giving.
Shane is obedient. He does as he's told. As his face got closer and he rests the side of his face on Ilya's inner thigh, he closed his eyes momentarily to deeply inhale and savor the musky scent he so loves. It's like an aphrodisiac and he's ecstatic. Shit! The act is stirring lust inside him and he can feel his own dick throbbing.
Ilya is slowly losing strength—like every drop of his life essence getting sucked out of him. To help maintain his composure, he sinks on to the bed a little, leaning back and propping himself up with his elbows. “Oh.. fuck!” he exclaimed when he felt Shane suck on his balls; there's a hand gently stroking him and followed by a tongue lapping up his entire length. A moan escaped him and instinctively he opens his legs wider. Oh god, tonight, I hope to be one of your bravest soldier. He is desperate. He hopes to last long.
Pleased at making Ilya feel all mushy, Shane continued to make use of his mouth. His tongue made a quick work of licking the leaking pre-cum before he started bobbing his head. After all these years he still finds himself amused with Ilya's girth. Remarkable; Nothing less than; As you would expect. Truly making him work for it but of course he's not one to complain about it. Not now. Not ever.
“Don't,” Ilya instructs Shane as he noticed one of his hand slowly reaching down. He lets himself drown in the sensation of having a warm wet mouth around his erection, but not for long because he is not about to cum with a blow job. He taps Shane's shoulder to catch his attention, “Come up here.”
“Did you like it?” Shane asked with a grin.
“So much,” Is Shane looking a little devious right now? Ilya thought. “very very hot!” he grabs Shane to switch their position. He stood up to remove his shirt, the remaining clothing he had on. He delicately pushed Shane—now sprawled in the middle of the bed. He crawled on top and locked him under in all fours. Lowering his head, he breathes in before he gave Shane's jaw a lick. “You are so beautiful.”
The rumpled sheets. The white noise of their breathing. The mixed scent of body wash and something natural. It's thrilling. The hunger, the desire, is all consuming.
Ilya's lips found Shane's. It started gently but gradually turned into thirst. He is prying Shane's mouth open as he attempts to stick his tongue inside. Shane reciprocates, greedy, his mouth opens, tongue in action as they ravish each other. His heart is pounding, loud, beating to the tune of his desires.
Shane's hand intuitively went into motion. One hand clutching Ilya's hair and the other roaming over the other's body—touching and feeling the warmth radiating. His light touches eventually found Ilya's lower back, an erogenous spot he knew would elicit a reaction. And true enough he felt a slight jerk. He tried to put a little bit more pressure. Without words, it is his way of asking Ilya to slide down so their bodies eventually meet. This is pleasure. He moans. His thoughts are getting muddy. This is intoxicating.
The kiss was broken off; Ilya moves on. Peppering kisses down Shane's neck earned him better access and his husband instinctively threw his head back. “Sexy,” he whispers. He only heard a grunt as a response. Shane is breathing heavy and to make things more electrifying, Ilya started grinding on top of him. By now, both of their dicks are painfully hard. A glorious agony. A form of release is needed but he is not about to touch either of them yet. The friction, however, is welcomed. Breathe, he reminds himself.
“Ilya,” Shane muttered under his breath. The grinding is killing him. His train of thoughts ran along it being, titillating, exhilarating, provocative. He hooks a leg on Ilya's waist. If he's not gonna get fucked yet, he might as well relish this moment. But not long after, the motion stopped. It brought his consciousness back. His eyes flutter as he tries to focus and realize that Ilya is staring at him tenderly. Those hazel eyes are full of adoration.
“You okay?” Ilya asked. Always.
“Yeah.” Shane responds with a nod. He can't help but wear a warm smile as he watches Ilya briefly get off the bed to grab the lube and a couple pieces of condom from the night stand. Stunning. His husband is, this man right here. Ilya Rozanov.
Ilya smirks, with a sculpted body like that of a greek god (Shane told him matter of factly), he will flaunt it. Always. He gets away with it every single time. Shane practically drools for it. “We're back on,”
Crawling back, Ilya situates himself on top of Shane. Legs wide apart he stops near his chest. From below, he looks larger than life and only Shane gets the full experience of such glorious view. The oozing sexiness of his naked body. His hip bucked a little when he felt the warm breath come in contact with his raging hard on. Jesus! Is he going to die right now? Well, no. Not yet.
Mesmerized. Shane will never get tired of this view. Ilya's throbbing cock is directly in his line of sight. His hand moves faster than his brain does. He gives it a languid stroke. Holy shit! Yeah, no denying it now. Ilya is hard as fuck. His dick twitches. This is exciting. Quickly he switches. One hand is now gripping Ilya's thick thigh while the other tries to grab a piece of condom. He rips it open. But before he puts it on his husband, he gives the underside of his erection one more lick and a pop on the tip. He looks up, grins and gives Ilya a wink.
Ugh, he moaned. At the moment, Ilya is blissfully drunk. Shane just has to be bold and his husband looks pleased at himself with such display of eagerness. “Tell me, Shane..” he softly asks as his thumb traces the beautiful freckles littered across Shane's face.
“Please..” he pleaded with those dark eyes full of emotion.
“What?”
“I need you..” Shane inhales. “to love me, tonight.”
To Ilya, it sounded like a spell. One that would enchant you. He moves away, off the bed and towards the edge he stood. Carefully he grabs Shane by the ankle, slowly sliding him down. One leg hanging while the other rests on his shoulder. Beautiful. Shane is laid bare. He delights as one hand caresses that muscular thigh. As he nips the skin on Shane's inner thigh, sensitive and soft, his other hand is busy giving the jewels a gentle massage. When he felt it tighten, he moved up. Fingers expertly wrapped around the length giving it a leisurely stroke. Leaking, twitching and he loves it.
Shane inhaled deep the moment he felt Ilya's hand working on his erection. He grunts. His back slightly arched at the tingling sensation flooding him. The hand moved up and found his chest. Right now his nipples are as sensitive as every other part of his body. Aroused and hard. He hissed when he felt a finger prodding his hole. Slowly and carefully trying to open him up. He grabs Ilya's arm, pulling him down bringing his face towards his. He sucks on those sweet luscious lips, sticks in his tongue whenever and, devours him altogether.
As the pleasure continuously builds up, Ilya pulls away slowly. As passionate as it is there's a much more important thing he needs to do. He breathes. Glance lingering. Worshipping every inch of Shane's body. Magnificent. Wonderful.
“Turn around. On your stomach please.” Ilya huffs as he delivers instructions.
The height of the bed in their master's bedroom has been planned for convenience and Shane definitely follows instructions very well. Arms tucked, face sideways on the comfortably cotton sheets, legs spread wide enough and in a slight kneeling position trying to gracefully present himself to Ilya.
Needy. Raw. Exposed. Like having a tunnel vision, there is nothing else to look at but this.. tempting.
Ilya can see Shane wearing a blissful expression with eyes fluttering from time to time. He strokes himself one two times as he prepares to line himself up behind Shane's delightfully round ass. “You good?” he asks to make sure. A light smack. Teasing. A faint growl.
“Yes.” Shane affirms. “Go on.”
Squeezing those ample cheeks, his tongue grazed Shane's tight entrance. Mmm, it vibrates deep. A full on chest sound. Ilya grunts as he teases Shane's hole with the tip of his rigid cock. The anticipation is rising. “Oh, Shane..” his voice is shaky as he drags on calling his husband's name. Slowly he penetrates and sinks to the hilt. He shudders. There's a static sound and for a brief moment he feels like his brain needs to reboot. Holy heavens!
Shane can feel the stretch behind as Ilya's girth consumes him. He is melting—physically, emotionally and spiritually. His eyes are shut as he tries to put himself back together. He breathes through it, as normal as he could. Relaxing all the muscles in his body instead of tensing up. He can feel that exquisite sensation all over but most especially at the tip of his leaking member. Mmm, he mumbles. A little bit satisfied but not enough. “Move..”
“Is that what you want?” Ilya asks.
“Yes,” Shane swallows “..please..”
Slowly, Ilya starts with a grinding motion. Feeling his way, making sure Shane is still comfortable. He can hear pleasurable moans from beneath and he takes it as a sign to move differently. Trying to find his rhythm he thrusts slowly, intentional, to begin with.
The silence within the four walls surrounding them amplifies their exchange of moans and grunt. Chest heaving, mouth agape, the sound of skin-to-skin slapping.. it is intimate.. they're physically connected.. it's ecstasy.
Shane makes a whimpering sound. Ilya's thrusting feels like heaven. Jesus Christ! He loves this dick so much. The pleasure is building and he can feel it bubbling at the pit of his stomach. “Ilya..” he tries to catch his breath “..harder.. please..”
What is Ilya supposed to do upon hearing that request? He takes pride in himself. He leans forward a little. Hands on Shane's back trying to steady himself at the same time making sure he is not pushing all his weight down on his husband. He's trying to keep his balance, finding some sort of support from the bed while he brings his right leg up on to the mattress.
Ilya sets the tempo. There's a consistent rhythm as he chases his own high. For the love of all things holy..oh god! He thrusts and moans. Sinking deeper, by the second, into this ever loving tightness. He shivers when he hears the same sound coming from Shane. His head thrown back when he felt his manhood squeezed.
“Do you want to cum?” Ilya asks while trying to catch his breath.
His mind is blank. The feeling is sublime. Shane tried to find his words as well as his voice. “Mmm..” was all he can come up right now. He sounds slightly gruff.
“I need you to..” Ilya gulps “..tell me..”
“Ye..” Shane takes a sharp inhale “..ss.. cum..”
Between him and the gripped sheets, Shane can feel the tip of his cock rubbing against the softness. The friction intensifies the arousal. The sensation brings about heat to his face. He's probably flushed right now. A moan escapes him along with the pounding. He is about ready to surrender with every deep stroke.
Gasps. Choked sounds. A thud. A wet slap. Don't stop. Delirium.
“I'm close..” Ilya reveals. He picks up the pace. Entirely focused on the sweet spot he knew Shane loves. He moves his body. Leaning back a bit as his other hand finds Shane's hard on. Giving it a firm squeeze, he strokes it in sync with his thrusts. His breathing is heavier. His hips rocking faster. Ilya grunts once again. He releases and then a shudder.
Right there! He's letting go and allowing desire to consume his entire being. He does not want to think anymore. Shane quivers as the flood gates burst in time with Ilya's. He has been reduced to nothing but dopamine right now. Catching his breath, he collapses.
⁎ ⁎ ⁎
The sheets are dirty but who cares about that right now? Both of them are sweating, panting and, just pure pleasure. Their limbs are still tangled but they remain in silence. Nothing much can be heard but their hearts pounding.
Ilya hugs Shane closer. Spooning, he snuggles and finds the crook of his husband's neck. He inhales his scent and settles. It always made him feel comfortable.
“Shane..”
It's the way that his name was said in a whisper. It is tender, loving and warm. He can't help but smile. “I'm here.”
“Why did you try to 'pick me' up at the bar earlier?”
Oh! Shane tried to stifle a laugh. “I had a dream last night.”
“A sex dream?”
Without even looking back, Shane can feel Ilya's brow move up. He does that whenever he is so curious about something. “I guess you could say that.”
“I need details, Shane.”
“Fine.” Shane takes a deep breath. “I had a dream that you were a random hot guy and we hooked up at the back alley...” he can feel himself blushing “..but I change my mind about the back alley.”
“Awee,” Ilya sounded defeated. “That would have been exciting.”
“Ilya!” he lightly slaps his arm that's currently wrapped around his waist. “That's scandalous.”
Ilya's hearty laugh echoed. “I am crazy for you, Зайчик.”
“I love you too.”
Maybe it wasn't what Shane had 100% imagined based off of his dream but hey, he wanted to try something new and he was brave enough to do it. That's all that matters.
⁎ ⁎ ⁎
Where ever you are, whatever time it is, have a great day! and Thank you 💖
Ilya Rozanov's prose and poetry dedicated to his husband, Shane Hollander🌹
This kind of love
is what I dreamed of
Peaceful and free
as it's meant to be
The heartaches happened
but I'm no longer saddened
Shane Hollander,
You've kept me going
my sails are continuously blowing
