Your tags. Like completely. Kiss ur brain. Shane pink cheeked and fuzzy eyed and his arms around Ilya’s neck, heavy and loose but holding. And Ilya moving to pull back because what he knows of his Shane he struggles to stay in bed too long at any time- even after sex- but then Shane just whimpers and his arms are tight around Ilya’s neck, pulling him back in. A tiny “noo. Stay” whispered and his ankles locking at Illyas lower back. His face nuzzles and burrows into Ilya’s neck, holding to him like he might disappear. And Ilya is all “Okie, Okie, we stay” he cooes and smoothes a hand over Shane’s head, through his soft sweaty hair.
YES YES YES absolutely myshane is so clingy and soft when he’s in subspace, like he’s giddy with it, all slow curling smiles and happy little noises and slurred words. they’re both sleep warm and lazy but ilya’s still on top of him, still moving sooo slowly like he could live in there forever and shane’s face is buried in ilya’s neck whining and mumbling “m’yours, yours, mmore…ilya” and ilya’s got his mouth pressed right next to shane’s ear telling him how good he is and how good it feels inside him and “this is all you need isn’t it? my good boy all sweet and happy with my cock inside you,” and shane’s beyond words at this point he’s just whimpering and nodding and squeezing his arms tighter around ilya’s shoulders and he can’t think but it’s ok because ilya’s here and he’s not leaving and ilya says he’s good like this and he thinks he’s crying but he’s so so happy
after they’ve both come ilya knows not to move too far away this time, so he reaches for some tissues in the nightstand to wipe up at least some of the mess so he can keep shane in bed even longer without shane feeling gross and sticky. shane’s eyes are lazily following his every move, but he’s calm, still catching his breath. ilya rolls onto his back and pulls shane on top of him, shane burrows his face into ilya’s chest like that’s his home, their legs tangling together. shane’s trying to press little kisses all over ilya’s chest but he’s so fuckdrunk he’s mostly just pressing his open mouth to his skin. ilya’s softly dragging his fingernails across shane’s scalp, the steady sensation giving shane something to focus on so he doesn’t drop too suddenly. he’s speaking softly, either in russian or in english that shane’s too blissed out to understand right now, but he feels ilya’s voice vibrating in his chest and it gently lulls him back to sleep…