hollanov fic: sleepy cuddly morning sex + quiet dirty talk
it's cold outside their blankets. ilya lies flush against shane's back. his arms hug him close. their legs lay tangled together in the duvet. shane woke first but allowed himself the lie-in. they don't have practice today, and shane doesn't have any commitments with friends.
ilya woke a few minutes ago, making it known by rubbing shane's stomach, but neither of them have said a word. content to exist in the knowledge of each other's soft attention. ilya's hand continues to move across shane's skin, palm flat and circling his bellybutton. shane's cock is thickening against his thigh. ilya's mouth, which has been releasing warm breaths over the nape of shane's neck, purses into a kiss against the soft hair there.
"malysh," he mumbles, so quietly. shane hums. "are you going out today?"
his words have soft edges, drowsy. "no," shane replies, just as quiet.
ilya's turn to hum. the movement of his hand doesn't cease. he shifts closer and nestles his clothed erection between shane's cheeks, making shane inhale and push back against him. ilya hasn't moved his hand down shane's body.
"are you hard?" ilya asks, without urgency.
they both still have their eyes closed. they're nowhere but here. shane says, "yeah."
quiet noise of acknowledgment from ilya. "do you want my hand?"
shane breathes, "yeah."
"mmm."
ilya doesn't give him his hand. he drags it up shane instead, resting it on one of his pecs. gently squeezes the muscle—once, twice, slow. shane grunts and arches into it. ilya kisses his neck again. then he uses just his first two fingers to begin circling shane's nipple. shane moans, quietly. his cock gives a hard throb. one more.
ilya lifts his fingers to shane's lips, murmuring, "suck."
shane does. ilya's fingers are salty. and warm. he pushes them in and out of shane's mouth, along his tongue, in a slow fuck. when he withdraws, a string of spit extends from the tips of his fingers to shane's bottom lip. ilya either doesn't notice or doesn't care. just moves his hand back down, draping the spit over shane's chin as he does, and starts gently massaging shane's nipple with his wet fingers. shane moans again. longer now. ilya rubs his cock leisurely into the cleft of shane's ass, humming deep in his chest.
"you like that, kotik?" he rumbles. shane nods into his pillow, reaching back to tangle his fingers in ilya's hair. ilya's face nuzzles into his neck. "love touching your tits," he says into shane's skin. "your nipples. they are so hard for me. like your cock, mmm?" shane makes a quiet, plaintive noise. ilya pinches him. "you get so hard for me everywhere."
"yeah," shane breathes.
"yeah?" ilya echoes, and shane lifts his jaw to invite ilya to kiss along his neck. ilya obliges him. shane sighs.
"yeah."
they lapse into a brief semi-silence; shane breathing through ilya's attention to his nipples, ilya moaning low as he works himself up against shane's ass. when his hand finally leaves shane's chest, skating back down along his abdomen, shane finds himself holding his breath. his cock is wet inside his boxer briefs. and aching. ilya whispers into his ear, "breathe, moy lyubov" and shane takes some air in just as ilya pushes his hand beneath the fabric of his briefs and holds his cock, firmly.
shane lets out a sound like it's been shocked from him. his body curls inwards, around the point where ilya is holding him, and ilya laughs softly. presses his wrist into shane's pelvic bone, urging his hips back against his cock. "come back, malysh," he teases. his hand starts working over shane under his briefs, and shane starts moaning in earnest. ilya exhales roughly in his ear. "you are so eager," he murmurs, drawing out the "so". "so horny for me in the morning, hm? just woke up and already need to get fucked? my needy boy... fuck, you are getting me all wet, shane."
and shane whimpers because he can feel it. the way ilya's fist is becoming slick with his precum, easing his movements into an obscene glide. up, down. up, down. ilya draws his hand out of shane's briefs for a moment and tugs the waistband down, tucking it behind shane's balls before reaching back up for his cock. heat rises in shane's cheeks at the sounds ilya's hand makes around his newly freed cock—distinct, wet fwips that cause shane's arousal to spike so hard his body lurches towards the edge. ilya moans loudly, presumably just as affected by it. his hand speeds up.
"mmm, fuck," ilya says. smearing open-mouthed kisses over shane's ear. "does it feel good, kotik? hmm?" shane nods, beyond words. ilya bites his earlobe and shane whimpers. "you are... fuck, moy lyubimyy, you are like a dream. like I am still asleep and fucking you, and when you come for me I will just wake up."
shane rolls his head against his pillow in vague dissent. "no," he slurs. "'m yours, ilya. your—fuck. oh. oh, ilya. oh m'god—"
"shane. are you gonna come, sweetheart?" shane inhales raggedly, nods minutely. frantically. "good. good boy. come for me, baby." ilya's fingers pull quickly beneath shane's cockhead. "yes. shane. come for me now, sweetheart—ah—fuck..."
shane is releasing into ilya's hand. twitching against him. moaning desperately. ilya holds him, kisses him, murmurs a litany of praise and encouragement in his ear. that's it, moy lyubimyy. you are so good. let me have it. good boy, shane.
after, shane relaxes into ilya's arms. spent, panting. ilya kisses over whatever he can reach of shane's face. shane, eyes closed, smiles faintly. he shifted away from ilya in those final moments—now he moves back. finds ilya hard, still.
"are y'gonna fuck me now?" shane mumbles. he hears, and feels, ilya huff a laugh against his cheek.
"oh, if you insist," ilya says, and shane laughs, rolling over onto him.
thanks for reading!! reblogs are super appreciated ❤️
hey! i just downloaded kaira and i am already loving it, i'm gonna have so much fun customizing it! i did want to ask, because i am someone who talks a TON in the tags, is there anyway to have the tags stack vertically instead of scrolling through them horizontally? i tried the customization form but it looks like it's closed. thanks so much!!
hi! i'm in the process of revamping kaira i'll make different tags options available in that :) in general i've been crazy busy lately but i'll make an announcement when customizations reopen!
i found you bc a mutual reblogged your tma art with Persian Jon and even tho I'm only 10 eps in, as a Persian I latch onto any representation I see and then I discovered your pacrim posting is TOP TIER and I'm very excited to finish TMA and get to fully appreciate your posts and art for that fandom!!
wait omg this is so sweet, I’m so glad you like my jon!!! 🥺 🥺 I care him so very much, and I always get SO happy to see ppl connecting w him :DD and also AA IM SO HONORED U LIKE MY RAMBLINGS HGLKDJF also I really hope you enjoy tma as it progresses!! the mystery and stakes of it are sooo crunchy :O
also also also not to promo my partner, but once you’re wanting to look at more TMA art, you should definitely check out @pocketsizedquasar !! their art is absolutely stunning all around, but also their Jon is Persian (and gorgeous) as well!! :D
anyways ty for the message, I hope you’re having a great day!!! :D :D
fluff? on mymansmoon? it's more likely than you think.
it's the year following s1. ilya is still in boston and shane is in montreal. they've just played a game against each other in boston and shane is staying over at ilya's house. after dinner they have a little fight about who's going to handle the dishes and ilya wins, play-snarling and biting at shane. shane rolls his eyes; ilya tells him to go into the living room and turn on the TV or something. so he does. settles into one corner of the couch. bundled top to toe in ilya's clothes: hoodie, sweats, socks. (he prefers his own, texturally, but he liked the principle of using everything of ilya's.)
he turns on some sports channel probably. five minutes later ilya comes into the room and flops onto the couch, head landing in shane's lap and the rest of his body stretching out lengthwise. he lets out a big 'ahh!' sound as he does and shane smiles, putting his hands on him. ilya turns onto his side so he can watch tv as well. maybe there's a hockey game on, i don't know. but they talk for a bit about whatever they're watching. relaxed observations traded back and forth. shane is absently playing with any part of ilya that he can easily reach. his hair, his ear, his neck, his shoulder. the night is winding down. they had a late dinner because they were having sex before. started the moment shane walked in the door. shane is full and relaxed. he has his favourite person in his lap. a silence descends on them both.
at some point something happens on the tv that warrants a comment from shane, but it receives no reply from ilya. "ilya?" he leans forward to check ilya's face and he's sleeping. eyes closed, mouth open. he's making those little clicking noises on his inhales that teeter on the edge of snoring. shane feels an unbearable swell of affection for him and watches him for a bit. then he very carefully reaches over to check the time on his phone. it's late. as much as he doesn't want to disturb ilya, he has an early flight out of boston tomorrow, and he isn't going to get a good night's sleep sitting up on this couch.
shane scratches ilya's scalp gently. "baby," he says. no response. he scratches him again, rubs his shoulder and then his jaw. "baby." ilya makes a noise and frowns, stirring a little. shane thinks his heart is going to burst out of his chest. "baby, let's go to bed," he says. this time ilya turns onto his back but keeps his eyes closed. he lifts his chin, sleepily asking for a kiss. shane smiles and gives it to him. soft warm press of lips for two seconds. when shane pulls back ilya sighs and makes a satisfied "hmmh" sound, before going still again. threatening to fall back asleep. shane's cheeks hurt. he rubs the backs of his fingers under ilya's chin. "hey, sleepyhead," he urges gently.
finally ilya inhales the inhale of a waking person, sudden and sharp and deep, and buries his face in shane's—rather, his own—hoodie. then he lifts himself off shane's lap. shane lets him go, reaching for the remote to shut the tv off while ilya yawns and rubs at his face in his periphery. he has groggy eyes. shane gets up and extends a hand to him; ilya takes it. shane pulls him up and leads him by the hand through the house, as familiar to shane now as his own place in montreal.
"I need to—" ilya gestures at the lights that are still on in the kitchen and entryway. "I've got it," shane says, and leaves ilya to hit all the appropriate switches. when he returns ilya is looking at him in a way. "what?" shane asks.
ilya shakes his head. "is just nice," he murmurs. "this is a little like your house now too."
shane breathes. takes ilya's hand again. "yeah," he says. he squeezes. the house is dark and blue-ish now. moonlight coming in through ilya's floor-to-ceiling windows. they look at each other for several long moments, then shane pulls ilya with him to the bedroom.
hiiii i would love to be tagged when you post ficlets!! also i am available for beta if you ever need!!
shanepussy killed me. good god.
hiii alrighty noted 📝 !! and thank you for offering :) thrilled you enjoyed shanepussy nipple riding, it was the most fun I've had writing a ficlet so far. cheers! ✨️
