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Everything had been thoroughly planned. They spent the entire day before discussing what they wanted and what they were comfortable with. Ilya thought he could do it. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to do the scene, no, he was excited and ready to try something new. When Shane had suggested it he couldn’t say he wasn’t surprised, but once he saw the blush on his husband’s face and heard how Shane had already thought things out, because he always did, Ilya had agreed to give it a go.
Shane wanted to do a rape scene. He came up with the idea that he would be masturbating when Ilya, but a stranger in the scene, would “break in” and take what he wanted.
This led to now. Shane was sitting on his bed, back against the headboard, legs bent and spread wide. A large shirt was hanging off his shoulder, pooled around his waist. He had two fingers in his hole and his other hand was stroking his cock. Everything felt so good, his fingers worked faster, pressing over his prostate as the drag of his hand got slicker on his dick from how much he was leaking. Blood rushed in his ears, fast and loud, he couldn’t hear anything besides his own heartbeat.
He couldn’t hear his front door creak open and the heavy footsteps that slowly approached his bedroom door.
His door swung open, slamming against the wall. Shane jumped, startled, and scrambled back. A man stood in his doorway, large and terrifying.
The man chuckled darkly. “What do we have here?” he said, his deep Russian voice sending shivers through Shane’s body.
Shane gulped and tried to pull the sheets up to cover himself, finally getting a grip. But as he reached for the sheets, they were ripped harshly away from him.
The man tsked. “I do not think so,” he said. Then he lunged towards Shane and grabbed his ankle, pulling him down.
Shane squeaked as he was manhandled. Strong hands flipped him onto his stomach, gripped his hips and raised them to arch his back, spreading him wide.
“Hmm,” the man rumbled. “Already so loose for me,” a hand slipped between Shane’s cheeks and spread to see his hole. Shane squirmed, thrashing around trying to escape. The man simply gripped his wrists and pinned them to his lower back, hands so tight around Shane's that there was no way Shane would get out of it.
“Please,” Shane begged as the man unbuckled his pants, pressing the tip of his cock to Shane’s hole. “Please, don’t do this,” he gasped.
Ilya took a deep breath, it was just a scene, he told himself. There was this little voice in the back of his brain that said he was hurting Shane, and Shane should never feel harm, could never do anything to deserve it. He only ever deserved warm touches and love. Ilya swallowed his thoughts. It was fine, they discussed it before, if Shane was actually uncomfortable he would safeword. Shane wasn’t safewording. In fact, Shane’s cock was so hard Ilya was sure he would come the moment he slid inside.
“You want this,” Ilya growled, getting back in character. “You are dripping for it,” he roughly squeezed Shane’s cock. He draped himself across Shane’s back, pushing Shane into the bed even more harshly. Shane gasped and Ilya licked up his neck, taking the lobe of his ear into his mouth and biting roughly. Then he shoved his dick all the way inside Shane.
Shane went rigid. “Too much,” he wheezed, “It burns,”
Ilya’s heart throbbed. How could he be doing this? He was hurting the man he loved. But Shane had wanted this, this was part of the scene. Shane didn’t prepare himself enough on purpose.
Ilya pulled out and then thrust back in firmly. “You are a whore,” Ilya grunted into Shane’s ear. “You were made for this, do not tell me it hurts, I know you are lying,”
“Stop, please,” Shane sobbed, face red and eyes squeezed shut.
Ilya almost did, almost pulled out and went to comfort him, but he stopped himself. It was the scene, it was not real. He slid his hand up to grip the back of Shane’s neck and pushed himself up to hover over the man he had pinned. “I will take what I want and you will enjoy it,” he stated, voice dark.
He went faster, his thrusts harder. Shane whimpered under him, sobs wretched from his throat. But when Ilya saw a tear streak down Shane’s cheek, something hard and leaden landed in his stomach. He felt nauseous, the world spinning and he wanted to vomit.
How did he agree to this? He felt disgusting, dirty and sick. He wasn’t aroused anymore, he felt his cock slowly softening even as he had the normally amazing sensation of being inside Shane.
“Red,” Ilya said, voice cracking and panicked. He pulled out and quickly wrenched away. He didn’t look at Shane, he couldn’t, he was too ashamed. His legs felt numb as he stood there, brain screaming at him. Why did he agree to it? Why did he think he could even pretend to hurt Shane? His fingers bit into his palms, fists clenched so tight the blood was barely getting to his fingertips.
“Ilya?” Shane’s voice broke through his fog. The bed creaked and Shane was in front of him, hands cupping his face, pulling his attention towards him.
“I’m sorry,” Ilya couldn’t hold it in anymore and tears streamed from his eyes. “I am sorry, I am weak,” he let his head rest in Shane’s hands as droplets fell from his face.
“Oh, Ilya, no,” Shane pulled him into a hug, Ilya’s head in the crook of his neck. “No, Ilya, you’re nowhere near weak, don’t apologize,” His hands curled in Ilya’s hair and Ilya took a deep breath that was all Shane. “Never apologize for using a safeword,”
Shane’s neck was damp from Ilya’s tears but Ilya stayed there still, pressing further into his husband. “I never want to hurt you,” he mumbled. “I can not bear to ever see you in pain. I know it was scene, but the thought of something so cruel happening to you makes me sick,” he tried to explain himself, but more tears soaked into Shane’s skin at the words.
Shane held him tight, rocked them back and forth until Ilya’s sobs ceased. “You are so brave,” Shane whispered. “You have such a big heart,” he pulled back a little to once again cup Ilya’s face. His thumbs wiped away the dampness. “Let’s get cleaned up, okay?”
Ilya nodded and let Shane lead him into the bathroom. Shane gripped Ilya’s hand and even as he turned to get the shower going, he didn’t let go.
“Want help to remove your clothes?” Shane asked as steam curled around them. His hand was gentle against Ilya’s cheek, a thumb brushing under his eye.
“Yes,” Ilya stated, voice faint and hoarse from crying.
Shane’s hands were careful and warm as he caressed the newly exposed skin with the removal of each item. Ilya still felt so gross, so disgusted with himself. He couldn’t bring himself to look at his jeans and the unclasped belt.
The warm water engulfed Ilya as they stepped in the shower. He pulled Shane tight into himself and buried his face in his hair, breathing him in. The water cascaded down his back, wetting his hair, but he didn’t care. Shane was warm and healthy and safe in his arms and that was all he ever needed.
“I’m sorry,” Shane said into Ilya’s collar bone.
Ilya hummed questioningly and pulled away. He met Shane’s eyes and saw the remorse.
Shane continued. “I shouldn’t have suggested it, hell, I shouldn’t have even had the idea. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” an anxious laugh left his mouth. “God I’m so fucked up for even thinking about it, for wanting it. I’m sorry I put you through that, Ilya, I’m so sorry,” his eyes were downcast and he leaned away just the slightest.
Ilya immediately tugged him back into himself, flush chest to chest. He tilted Shane’s head up and kissed him softly on the lips. “If I cannot apologize, then neither can you,” he said with the quirk of his mouth.
Shane huffed. “Ilya that’s not–”
Ilya placed another light kiss to his lips. “No more apologies, okay?” giving Shane a firm look. “We tried something new, it did not work out, and that is okay. You are not fucked up for wanting to try it, you were curious and that is okay. Not everything can go well and yes we are both relatively open when it comes to kink, but it is okay to have things we do not like. As long as we communicate and use safewords, we are alright,” Shane gave him a little smile. “I do feel bad, you seemed like you were enjoying yourself,”
Shane frowned just a little. He shrugged. “I guess, it was fine, but I don’t think I prefer it to other things we do. I’d much rather you enjoy yourself too,” he smiled at Ilya and leaned up for a kiss.
The water still pelted down on them as the kiss deepened. Once they separated, they got to cleaning. Ilya didn’t let himself let go of Shane for a second, didn’t want to not feel his warmth and skin. His heart burst with so much love and admiration, his fingers tracing the freckles on his husband’s cheeks. He moved down carefully, cleaning Shane up and making sure he was okay after the roughness.
“I’m fine, Ilya,” Shane said, exacerbated. “I’m just a little bit sore, I promise you everything is fine,” he couldn’t hide the smile on his lips as he looked down at Ilya, on his knees, and reverently scrubbing his legs and feet.
Ilya placed a delicate kiss to his upper thigh, his hands still holding one of Shane’s feet and diligently scrubbing the bottom with a washcloth. “Okay, I believe you,” he allowed the water to rinse Shane off before placing a kiss to the tops of each of his feet.
Shane’s hands gripped his hair and pulled him to his feet. His face was bright red. “Stop doing that,” he whined, though Ilya knew he loved it.
“Stop doing what?” Ilya feigned innocence, a hand slipping to grab Shane’s hip and pull him in. He nosed down the column of his husband’s neck. “I am simply worshipping the amazing man in front of me,” his lips moved against Shane’s skin, bringing an involuntary shiver out of him. “I love kissing and touching every part of you,” his hands wandered all over Shane. “There is no part of you that I do not love with every part of my soul, you know this, da?” he glanced up, Shane’s eyes were hazy, he was slipping and Ilya would gladly catch him.
Shane nodded as best he could, back relaxing against the shower wall behind him. His hand clasped Ilya’s head, fingers winding in his wet hair.
Ilya’s lips wound their way down Shane’s torso, kissing his stomach and getting back down on his knees. Shane was soft between his legs and Ilya looked up. Their eyes met and the question hung.
Shane nodded.
Ilya took Shane’s cock in one smooth motion, feeling him swell against his tongue and poke the back of his throat. He simply took it further down.
Shane gasped and writhed above him, hands even tighter in his hair. “Ilya,” he moaned breathily.
Ilya kept at it, determined to make it up to Shane, even though he knew Shane would never expect it of him. Shane had been close when Ilya had to stop and Ilya felt bad for leaving him hanging. So he worked his lips around Shane’s dick the way he knew his husband loved. The way that made Shane’s knees buckle, his breath catching in his throat and his thighs shake. Ilya loved all that was Shane, every noise, every move.
Shane bucked his hips, not able to control himself any longer. Ilya ran his hands up Shane’s thighs and, knowing how close his husband was to coming, he slipped a finger into Shane’s hole, finding his prostate.
Shane convulsed, his hands gripping Ilya’s hair so tight Ilya’s eyes began to water. He didn’t care. The only thing he cared about was getting Shane to come. He sucked Shane down hard, moving his mouth in all the ways that took Shane apart.
And he did. Soon Shane was coming. He tried to pull Ilya off, but Ilya resisted, wanting to have everything that was Shane. He swallowed and only when he heard the broken whimpers above him did he finally pull off, taking his hand away from Shane’s hole and resting his head on the inside of Shane’s thigh.
They both caught their breaths, Ilya gasping into Shane and licking the sweat and water from his skin, sweet and salty under his tongue. Water from his hair rushed down his face, mixing with the taste of Shane.
Shane’s grip in his hair had eased and he was now petting his head softly, scratching behind his ears and down his nape.
“Bed?” Shane asked, voice only a little bit wrecked.
Ilya grunted and hauled himself to his feet. He placed his hand on the small of Shane’s back and pulled him into a kiss. It was sweet for how heated they were just mere seconds ago.
He led Shane out of the shower and wrapped him firmly in a towel, taking his time to dry off his limbs. Shane simply let him. Normally there was a little more bickering before Shane acquiesced but Ilya had a feeling that Shane knew he needed it. He needed to take care of him, in every way he could. Not to make it up to Shane, he knew Shane held nothing against him. No, it was to make it up to himself. To make up for the fact that even though it was pretend, he hurt Shane. So as he dried his husband off, taking care to dry every inch of the perfect man in front of him, he pressed every ounce of admiration and love into Shane’s skin, hoping it would sink below and into his bones and blood so he would always know the care and all encompassing devotion Ilya had for him.
Once dry and dressed in simple boxers, Ilya had Shane sit on the small padded bench that sat at the end of their bed.
“I will strip bed,” Ilya stated, heading to get clean sheets.
“Ilya, the sheets are fine, and that’s coming from me,” Shane raised his brow, patting the bed.
“No,” Ilya said. “I need to change them. I must take care of you,” Shane’s eyes softened at that and he gestured for Ilya to continue.
Ilya came back moments later with arms full of new bedding. He efficiently stripped the bed and replaced the sheets, smoothing everything out so there were no wrinkles, Shane hated when there were wrinkles and uneven surfaces touching his feet as he slept. He methodically changed each pillow case, making sure they were tucked in and placed properly on the bed. He made the bed perfectly, he made it the way he knew Shane liked it. It had extra pillows from their closet and fuzzy throws along with their comforter. Shane liked to be cocooned when he slept, liked to be surrounded by pillows and blankets and Ilya.
Ilya tended to move around when he slept, one for limited things on the bed as they would end up on the ground anyway. Usually they compromised on the amount of pillows and blankets, but Ilya needed it to be perfect for Shane.
“Ilya, you don’t have to do all this,” Shane said as Ilya placed the extra pillows around the edges of the bed and tucked them in another fitted sheet so they made a nest.
“I want to,” Ilya simply said, throwing the last of the blankets on the bed and making everything fluffy. He met Shane’s eyes and reached out his hand. Shane took it. “I need to,” he tugged Shane towards the bed. “Now come, is all prepared for you, with thousands of pillows just how you like, my prince,” he grinned and hopped in, yanking Shane down with him.
Shane landed on top of him, their lips brushing. “Hm, only prince?” he teased, breath fanning across Ilya’s face.
Ilya’s hands moved to touch him, one running up and down his spine, the other to grab the base of his neck, firm and grounding. “You are right,” Ilya smiled against Shane’s lips. “How could I be so foolish, you are king, complete ruler of my heart,”
Shane kissed him then, all saccharine and tender. “I love you,” he said between kisses.
Ilya’s legs came up to wrap around Shane’s thighs, pulling him even closer. He grabbed a blanket and draped it over them, sliding his hands down Shane’s goosebumped arms. “I love you so much, Shane,” Ilya said, squeezing him tight. “You could kill me and I would still look at you with hearts in my eyes, even with the knife against my throat,”
Shane snorted and pulled back a little, glaring at Ilya. “You’re insane,” he stated, trying to act bothered but there was pink on his cheeks. “You know I could never hurt you,” he said, softer, leaning back in and burying his face into Ilya’s neck.
Ilya’s hand drifted from his neck to his scalp, his fingers running through the black locks. “I could never hurt you either, even the thought makes me sick,” he leaned into Shane’s head, his cheek against Shane’s ear. His eyes traced the ceiling fan. “I always knew I could never hurt you, but tonight proved that even pretending left me in shambles,” it’s quiet, his voice.
Shane turned his head and kissed his cheek. “That makes you so strong,” he said, and Ilya turned to look at him. Shane’s thumb came up to run under Ilya’s eye, catching a single tear. “The bravest and strongest thing a person can ever do is to be kind and to be vulnerable,”
“My father never had kind words, he was never vulnerable,” Ilya gazed at Shane’s freckles, eyes bouncing to each and every one. “He told me that in order to get what you want in life, you must take what you believe to be yours, be aggressive, dominate, never show weakness,” his eyes met Shane’s. “But he was wrong. I was never those things and somehow I ended up with you, only thing I have ever truly wanted in life,”
Shane kissed his mole, then along his cheek to his nose, down to his mouth. “Is that why the scene hurt even more? Reminded you of how your father expected you to act?”
“I never had a choice growing up. I only ever did what my father wanted, there was no other option,” he played with Shane’s hair absentmindedly, twisting and winding around his fingers. “I never want to place that burden on anyone else, on you, on friends, on future children,”
Shane smiled at the last part. “Future children?” his eyes sparkled.
“Da, yes, only person I ever want children with. Maybe little us will have your freckles,” a finger smoothed over said freckles. “Though, I could never win any argument against them, freckles too cute,” Shane scoffed and Ilya grinned. “Yes, can hardly think when I see them on you, imagine on tiny baby, I would be useless. You would have to be mean parent, they would have me wrapped around their finger,”
Shane scoffed. “Asshole,” he mumbled, a fond smile spread across his face.
“But I would be really useless if you were pregnant. I would be on your every, what is term, beck and call? Yes, beck and call,” a hand moved down to Shane’s waist and slid between them, feeling his stomach. “You would look so stunning pregnant with my child,”
Shane laughed, but Ilya could tell his words did have some effect on him. “There is physically no possible way for you to get me pregnant, Ilya,”
Ilya hummed. “Will not stop me from trying,” he bucked his hips into Shane’s and grinned, leaning over to suck a mark on Shane’s shoulder.
Shane brought a hand up to pull his face away. “Idiot,” he said affectionately.
“Do not worry, no more tonight, I am simply teasing,” Ilya relaxed further in the mattress, letting Shane’s weight soothe him. They kissed once more, then finally settled down.
With Shane in his arms, Ilya felt like he could do anything. Ilya never thought he would love someone so much, never thought anyone would love him so much in return. But any doubts were soothed with every touch from Shane. Every kiss, every glance, every hug, every meal shared, they all reinforced the knowledge that Shane was his and he was Shane’s and there was nothing that would ever change that.