i present to you: a hollanov AU where shane has dermatographia
Shane shakes out his toiletry bag on his bed at the cottage. He packed it very quickly at home, eager to get to the airport to pick up Ilya, and it seems he’s forgotten some things; namely, his allergy medication.
Shane’s been taking anti-histamines daily, ever since he was nine and his mom was helping him pull off his hockey gear, only to find her son covered in red marks. After a trip to his family doctor and then an allergist, Shane got his diagnosis: Dermatographia.
It sounded big and scary at the time, but it’s essentially being allergic to touch. When anything touches his skin, it produces an angry, raised red line and makes him feel itchy, which causes Shane to scratch and create more welts, or wheals, on his skin. It’s entirely benign and all he has to do is take this allergy medication every day to keep his symptoms at bay.
But today, he’s left his meds at home. Not a big deal; the next time they drive into town for a grocery run, he’ll just grab a bottle of over the counter medication to tide him over. It’s not like he’ll be irritated by his hockey gear or sweating a lot, both things that trigger it normally.
The next day, Shane and Ilya are in bed, making up for lost time with some gratuitous morning sex. Shane is on his knees on the bed, Ilya taking him from behind with a firm hand on his back, pressing him into the mattress below.
“Yes Ilya,” Shane moans as Ilya finds a rhythm that’s hitting his prostate just right.
“You like that?” Ilya says from above him, sounding a bit out of breath. Ilya slides his hand down Shane’s back, and then moves to grip his hips with both hands, driving into him even harder. “Did you miss me?”
Shane nods, even though Ilya probably can’t tell with his face squished up against the mattress. This feels so fucking good—he never wants Ilya to stop.
Just as he’s about to come, his own hand stroking himself firmly beneath him, Ilya’s pace slows down.
“Shane?” Ilya says, sounding unusually concerned.
Shane turns his head to look at him, confused immediately embarrassed. He must be doing something wrong. “What?”
“What are these marks on your back?” Ilya asks, pointing to an evidently raised wheal on his skin. “They are also on your hips and ass.”
Shane realizes what’s going on quickly, remembering his lack of meds. He laughs a little, but can’t bring himself to adjust his tone into something more placating while Ilya is still inside of him.
“I have a skin thing,” Shane explains, still panting a bit. “I usually take pills for it, but I left them at home. It’s fine. Not contagious or anything.”
Shane groans impatiently as Ilya pulls out of him. “Do they hurt?” Ilya rolls onto his side beside him, gesturing to the marks.
“No. I just get really itchy. But it’s best not to scratch or else I’ll just make new ones. I’m basically allergic to being touched, so my skin marked up when you were grabbing me.”
“I am so sorry Moy Lyubov,” Ilya says. “I did not know about this.”
“Ilya, it’s fine. No big deal. My meds keep it under control,” Shane speeds through his words. “Can we please get back to it now?” he wiggles his ass in the air a bit, desperate to have Ilya inside of him again.
Ilya obeys, entering Shane again with a moan.
—————
Once they’re spent, Ilya flops down next to Shane and starts running a finger over what Shane can only presume are welts on his back.
“Do you promise they don’t hurt?” Ilya asks, keeping his touch feather light.
“Yup. Just itchy.”
Ilya starts tracing shapes on Shane’s back, which is both soothing the itching feeling while also creating new itches. But Shane is too boneless after the two orgasms to do anything but lay there and let Ilya do whatever he’d like.
He spends 15 minutes drawing shapes on his back, absolutely fascinated with how Shane’s skin reacts. Shane can’t make out all of what Ilya draws, but he definitely catches at least one crude drawing of a penis, just two circles and an oval, and the number 81.
“That is a very neat trick,” Ilya says, before they’re both fast asleep again.
—————
The next day, Shane is riding Ilya on the couch. Ilya is propped up on the arm, sitting upright, and Shane is flush against Ilya’s lap.
“Shane,” Ilya groans, eyes directly on Shane’s chest. “That is so fucking hot.”
Shane looks down at his pecs, seeing the scratches Ilya raked down his chest manifested as red welts down his skin.
Shane smirks evilly down at his boyfriend. “The skin writing really gets you all hot and bothered huh?” Ilya grips Shane’s hips, where he also is all red from Ilya’s grabby hands. “I think you love it. Marking me up. Maybe it makes you feel kind of possessive?”
Ilya is thrusting up into him now, and Shane can tell he’s close. “I do not need to be possessive. You are mine,” Ilya grinds out.
Shane didn’t realize he was so close, but after Ilya’s reverent words he was going to come. Now.
After, Ilya still inside him, Shane is slumped on Ilya’s chest. Once he’s come down from his orgasm, immediately he’s itchy. He reaches around himself to scratch the welts on his hips, still angry and red. They usually subside in about half an hour. Then he reaches around to scratch a screaming place on his back.
“You said you were not to scratch,” Ilya reprimands. “Makes it worse.”
“Yeah well it’s hard to remember that when you’re this itchy,” Shane snipes. He pulls off of Ilya and turns around so he’s sitting in his lap, back facing Ilya. “Please help, right in the middle. I can’t reach.”
Ilya untangles his hand and presses his palm into Shane’s skin, but doesn’t rub or scratch like he’s been asked to.
Shane groans and squirms in his lap. “Ilya. Please.” The itchy feeling is so strong it’s painful. Ilya keeps firm pressure but doesn’t scratch.
“Does anything make it better? Other than the medication?” Ilya sounds oddly concerned, and trying to soothe him.
“Sometimes if I put lotion on, that helps. Cools it down and makes it harder to scratch,” Shane grinds out, still vibrating a bit. He’s trying not to paw at his hips, but is doing it anyways, almost subconsciously.
Ilya leaves to retrieve the cream, and then slathers it all over Shane’s back and hips, and down his chest. Then he dresses him quickly so he’s not tempted to scratch anymore. Once he’s pulled Shane’s shirt over his head, Ilya shoves him down on the couch, sitting far away from him so he’s not tempted to touch him. At least until the marks fake.
“So, no aftercare cuddles huh?” Shane quips.
Ilya laughs. “Was stopping you from making it worse. Rubbing you down with lotion and dressing you is not enough for you?”
Shane chuckles and reaches out to lock pinkies with Ilya, followed by giving him a quick peck on the lips.
“Is it better now?” Ilya asks.
“Yeah. It’s fading.”
—————
After another scratching incident the next day from roughhousing in the yard, Ilya drives them into town to get allergy pills from the grocery store. Ilya has to stay in the car as to not be spotted by anyone, because he would not be able to come up with an excuse for being in rural ontario, so close to Shane’s cottage, in the offseason.
After Shane’s back on his meds, Shane can tell Ilya feels the tiniest bit sad that he won’t be able to mark him up anymore during sex. But unfortunately it’s not worth the itching.
—————
6 Months Later, December:
While Shane is already off on his mandated NHL Christmas break, Ilya still has one more game before meeting Shane back at his house in Ottawa for the Holidays.
Shane was very happy to see the schedule work out this way this year, because he has a tiny surprise for Ilya.
The Tuesday before, Shane purposefully skipped his allergy meds. He doesn’t usually notice until about forty-eight hours after a missed dose, so he was fine during his game against Toronto last night. Now he’s at Ilya’s house, in a giant shirt and extra large sweatpants of Ilya’s, trying not to mark himself before Ilya gets home.
“My Shane!” Ilya calls when he enters the house. He finds Shane lying on the couch watching HGTV and plops right on top of him.
Shane lifts his head up to kiss his boyfriend. They, like always, get a little too into it immediately, and they’re both hard in their sweatpants. “Merry Christmas,” Shane smiles as he pulls away from Ilya’s lips, panting.
Ilya’s eyes are unfocused, still dazed from the kiss. “Hmm?” he whispers.
Shane laughs. “Christmas. Tomorrow.” He gestures to the Christmas tree he’s set up in Ilya’s living room. They were supposed to do it together during their last visit, but never got around to it.
“Ah. Yes. Merry Christmas,” Ilya smirks. “Can we fuck under the tree now?”
They don’t, in fact, fuck under the tree. But they do on the couch right next to the tree.
Shane’s shirt is off, and he’s tugging Ilya’s over his head. Ilya flips them over immediately, wanting Shane on top. Ilya sits propped up on the back of the couch, Shane straddling his lap. Immediately Ilya is grabbing Shane around his back and yanking him forward. Ilya loves this position as it makes Shane’s chest eye-level.
And then Ilya’s looking at Shane’s chest with dark eyes, biting his pec hard before licking it in soothing laps. Then he’s sucking on a nipple. Shane loves when Ilya gives attention to his chest, and he arches his back into Ilya automatically. Ilya’s hands and fingernails roam over the smooth skin of his hips, stomach and back.
After giving some very loving attention to both nipples, Ilya pulls back to take Shane’s mouth, but stops before Shane can get his lips on his boyfriends. Something must have caught Ilya’s eye, as his pupils are focused back down on his chest.
“What is this?” Ilya asks. “Did you run out of medicine?”
At first Shane is confused by Ilya’s words. He’d already forgotten about his present. An extremely hot Russian boyfriend sucking your tits can do that to a guy.
“No,” Shane answers, looking down at his marked chest. And—wow. Shane gets it suddenly. Seeing Ilya’s tracks, his scratches, and most importantly, that bite mark from earlier on him, is hot as fuck.
“I skipped a dose on purpose. To surprise you. You seemed to like it a lot at the cottage…” Shane trails off. He suddenly is feeling a little bashful about his gift.
But he doesn’t stay shy for long. Ilya ravishes him hard and fast, just as he hoped.
After when they’re cuddling, still naked, Shane slumped over on Ilya’s chest, he feels Ilya trace a heart-shape into his skin with his finger, just above Shane’s heartbeat.
