Work Text:
Lily: Stuck out with team later than I thought
Lily: I will still be there I promise
Lily: Get yourself ready I will not be able to wait
Shane feels his face heat up. He may be a little disappointed at the thought of not being worked open on Ilya’s fingers like usual, but he’s also thrilled more than he’d ever admit at the idea that he might walk right through the door and be so impatient to fuck him that he wouldn’t waste any time worrying about his comfort, would slide right in without bothering to check if he had done a good enough job of getting himself ready for it not to hurt.
Jesus, he’s a freak. Ilya is better than that. He’s good to Shane, especially now that they’ve been doing this for so long. Good enough that sometimes Shane lets himself get carried away with what it could mean.
But even so, as he’s laying down a towel on his bed, smoothing it flat, setting out lube for himself and then after a moment of consideration one of his plugs, too, he can’t stop thinking about it. He wishes – not for the first time – that it could be as easy for him as it is for girls, that if Ilya spent the evening teasing him he would be able to just bend him over and fuck him where he was already wet and wanting. No preamble. Effortless. It would still ache, of course, the stretch of Ilya’s cock, but he thinks he would like that, too.
The thought gives him pause as settles on his bed. Yeah – yeah, he would like it a lot, because he already likes the ache when Ilya makes him come and keeps fucking him through it or when he gets rougher than usual and Shane can feel it for a few days afterward. He rolls over to rummage through the drawer of his nightstand again and swaps the plug he’d first grabbed for the other, smaller one, which he knows won’t stretch him nearly as much. It’s the first one he’d ever bought, years ago, to surprise Ilya, before deciding last-minute there was too much potential for humiliation in doing so.
Tonight, though, Shane thinks he could stand a little humiliation.
He takes less time than usual fingering himself open and is equally hasty with the plug, pleased at the slight burn when he works the thickest part inside, and then in spite of his arousal he has nothing to do but straighten up his bed and tidy his nightstand because he doesn’t want to touch himself before Ilya gets here. Not this time.
After scrolling aimlessly on his phone for a while he drifts off into a pleasant, thin kind of sleep through which he feels dimly aware of the way his hole is squeezing needily around the plug. When he awakes to the sound of the door opening and shoes thumping onto the mat he’s still in that hazy headspace and half-hard, but suddenly a bit shy too, overwhelmed that Ilya’s finally here. He’s missed him. Misses him all the time, no matter how much he tries to pretend otherwise.
Ilya walks into the room still pulling off his jacket then moves to fumble with his belt, slightly off-kilter, so focused on undressing he hasn’t even looked up at him yet. And – Shane had figured he’d been drinking, might be tipsy once he got here, but the first proper glimpse he gets of his face in the dim lamplight makes him realize Ilya’s maybe the drunkest he’s ever seen him. He’s flushed so pretty, his eyes only half-open, and he stumbles when he bends to pull off his jeans.
“Ilya,” Shane says, voice breaking minutely because Ilya’s boxers come off with his jeans and he’s so hard already. His cock bobs as he tugs his shirt over his head.
And then he’s finally naked and crossing the room to join Shane on the bed, crawling unsteadily up over him until he’s got him caged between his thighs and their dicks are rubbing together. Shane has to try very hard to remember that Ilya’s hammered when he bends to start kissing open-mouthed at his neck, his whole body wrapped around Shane’s, hands bracketing his head.
“Ilya,” he gasps. “You’re drunk, hey, ah, wait,” he adds, and he’s trying so hard to do the right thing here, but Ilya’s cock is still sliding against his and he can’t stop himself from moving his hips to chase it.
“Yes,” Ilya says. His mouth trails down over Shane’s collarbone and his chest, leaving a trail of spit because he’s being so messy. “Waited all night to have you,” he mumbles, looking up to meet Shane’s eyes, and takes his nipple between his lips.
“Oh fuck, fuck,” Shane cries as Ilya’s tongue flicks firmly over him. His hands come up of their own accord to cradle Ilya’s head and hold him there. Ilya makes a satisfied sound deep in his chest, eyes fluttering shut, and fuck, it’s always felt good when Ilya touched him here but he’s never done it so sweetly, singlemindedly, like this is all he wants in the world.
Shane can feel that he’s leaking steadily already, the drag of their dicks together slicker even as it slows because Ilya’s going almost limp against him. He wonders, distantly, if this is somehow more pleasurable to him – if this, too, is a way for him to use Shane, if he has any idea that Shane suddenly thinks he might be able to come from this or if it would matter to him if he could. He sinks a little deeper at the thought.
Ilya shifts his weight so he can bring one of the hands supporting him to cup the other side of Shane’s chest and start thumbing slowly over that nipple, then pulls off the one in his mouth with a wet little pop to rest his cheek next to it. He opens his eyes, just barely, to watch as his hand squeezes at Shane’s pec. “You are so perfect here,” he says, dazed. “I love your tits.”
There’s no time for Shane to process the way that makes his cock twitch before Ilya starts sucking again, harder this time, his teeth scraping over the peak of Shane’s nipple. He pulls at the other one, twists it between his fingertips – like he’s trying to –
Shane inhales sharply at the image that flashes momentarily through his mind even as it makes his stomach twist with embarrassment. They’re both making desperate sounds, though, and Ilya hardly notices, too busy playing with Shane’s tits, making his nipples swollen and oversensitive.
He won’t last, not with Ilya touching him like this. “Baby,” he breathes, and Ilya really must be gone because even as Shane goes momentarily still at the shock of having said it he only moans, rocks his hips up against him. “C’mon, need you,” he says, tugging at the hair between his fingers to pull Ilya up when he doesn’t react at first, forcing him to listen. He looks as ruined as Shane feels.
“Fuck me, Ilya,” he says, barely above a whisper.
Ilya’s eyes widen like he had somehow forgotten that this was even on the table. “Yes, yes,” he says. He reaches down to grab at Shane’s ass, rubs his fingers clumsily over his hole, and his expression clouds momentarily with confusion when he feels the plug there.
Shane can’t help his small, pleased smile.
“Got myself ready for you,” he explains, reaching down between them to push Ilya’s hand away and replace it with his own and grab the base of the plug. “Like you asked.”
Ilya pushes back, up and off Shane, and then he’s on his knees between Shane’s parted legs watching open-mouthed as he pulls at the plug just enough to show how his hole squeezes around it. Shane’s not sure he’s ever seen him want so badly, so plainly.
“Baby,” he says again, a little breathy in a way that might be on purpose, and Ilya’s eyes snap up to meet his. “Grab the lube?”
Ilya almost knees him in his rush to do so, then just as quickly is back in position between Shane’s thighs and squeezing lube onto his cock, jerking himself off slowly. He’s so hard it must hurt.
Shane sucks in a breath and tugs the plug out in one go, groaning a little at the feeling.
“Fuck,” Ilya groans, swaying forward. He rubs the head of his cock over Shane’s hole and for a second Shane thinks he’s going to fuck right in. “Was thinking all night of your pussy,” he says, rubbing over him again, head catching this time.
Shane can’t breathe. Can’t think. “Fuck my pussy,” he says. “You can use it however you want, come on, just. Fuck me, Ilya.”
He’s barely finished speaking when Ilya starts pushing in. It’s too fast even though he’s clearly trying to be gentle, and Shane had been right when he imagined this, it burns, but Ilya’s draping himself over Shane’s body again so there’s nowhere for him to go even if he wanted to. He’s split open, and Ilya’s grabbing at his tits, and–
“So fucking tight, mommy,” Ilya says.
Shane freezes.
“Want to knock you up,” Ilya adds, moving a big hand to splay over Shane’s stomach, rubbing it a little, then slides it up to Shane’s chest.
“Fuck,” Shane moans helplessly, his cheeks burning. “Yeah, fuck, I – I’ll let you, baby.”
Ilya nods, boyish, his curls bouncing. He squeezes roughly at Shane’s chest and starts driving into him faster, harder. “Your tits will be so big and full, ah fuck – полный молока – хочу смотреть, как у тебя течет из сисек, пока я тебя трахаю –”
It’s awful, so embarrassing, how much he wishes he knew what Ilya was saying. Shane has to push an arm across his face to cover his eyes when Ilya starts pulling at his nipple again even as it makes him sob. Still, he can’t stop himself. “You’re taking such good care of mommy, Ilya,” he whispers. He can feel Ilya’s hips stutter.
Ilya leans in and kisses him then, finally, though it’s so wet and sloppy it’s barely a kiss at all. His mouth tastes like vodka. “I want you to come for me, please, mommy,” he says, licking at Shane’s tongue and laying his hand flat over his cock. Two of his fingers press up under the head of Shane’s cock and start rubbing in hard, loose circles.
And Ilya hasn’t been fucking him properly this whole time, too fast and too rough, like Shane’s just a toy for him, which is the thought that has him tipping over the edge. He grabs Ilya’s head again and pushes it to his chest and Ilya latches immediately, biting hard at his nipple and then licking over it.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck,” Shane cries as he comes, going so tight around Ilya that it hurts when he keeps fucking him through it.
“Thank you, mommy, thank you,” Ilya says reverently, pulling off Shane’s nipple and leaving a string of spit behind. He drags his fingers through the cum streaked across Shane’s stomach and licks it off. Normally he’d check in with Shane and see if he’s good to keep being fucked after coming, but he’s too far gone now and probably has been since the moment he walked through the door. Shane thinks it might not be good how hot that is to him.
He looks up at Ilya through his lashes. “Will you come too, baby?” He swallows, takes a deep breath. “Knock mommy up?”
Ilya groans and grabs one of Shane’s thighs as leverage to fuck into him harder. “Yes, Shane, mommy, so close.”
It hurts, the way Ilya’s fucking him, and Shane thinks he might get hard again about it. He takes his hands and presses his tits together so his nipples peek out from between his spread fingers. “Next time,” he says, voice unsteady with the force of Ilya’s thrusts, “I’ll let you fuck these.”
“Fuuuck,” Ilya groans, collapsing his full weight onto Shane so there’s barely space for him to breathe, caging Shane’s head with his forearms and panting into his open mouth. He grinds his hips in further, seating himself as deep as he can go, and Shane feels the heat pool in his stomach when Ilya comes inside him with a low uh-uh-uhn.
“Baby,” Shane murmurs after a long moment of Ilya’s hips still grinding into him, tilting up to close the space between their lips as he wedges a hand between them to push gently at Ilya’s chest. “C’mon, I’m getting sore.”
“Sorry.” Ilya pushes up, his breath ragged. He’s got a little pout on his face when he pulls out.
Shane inhales sharply at the way he can feel himself gaping open. Ilya immediately slides a hand over him, his fingers pressing over his puffy rim.
Wait, Shane wants to say, because he really is sore, but he’s too shocked by the sight of Ilya sliding down the bed to get his head between his thighs, and then Ilya’s licking sloppily at his hole, pushing his tongue inside.
Shane gives in and fucks himself back onto Ilya’s mouth for a few moments, starting to get hard again, until he catches the way Ilya’s eyes are drifting shut again, his tongue slowing.
“Hey,” Shane says, tangling his fingers in Ilya’s hair and moving his hips away so he can sit up. Ilya’s eyes open a little. “You’re falling asleep, baby.”
“Nooo, I want to eat your pussy,” Ilya says with his face pressed into Shane’s inner thigh, mournful, like he might not recover if he doesn’t get to keep going until he’s licking his own cum out of Shane’s ass. The earnestness on his face is so disarmingly cute that the way the words make Shane’s cock twitch makes him feel somehow more perverted than anything else tonight, though it’s a close thing.
“Nope,” Shane says firmly. “Bed.”
They’ve never spent the night together before, but if Ilya is aware of the gravity of the situation he gives no indication; his eyes have already fallen shut again.
“I’m not letting you use my leg as a pillow,” Shane tells him. He rubs his fingertips over Ilya’s scalp, though, and it takes him a long while to pull himself away so he can shower.
Shane has himself convinced himself that Ilya doesn’t remember any of it until hours after he’s left the next day. His phone buzzes – Ilya's plane must be about to take off, Shane thinks.
Lily: Btw once the baby is born I expect shared custody
Lily: :)