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Shane stepped out of the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed in only sweatpants. He sat down on the edge of the bed and sighed. Ilya looked up from his phone to raise an eyebrow at his husband, then moved to sit on the edge of the bed with him.
“What is wrong?” Ilya nudged Shane’s shoulder. “Did you remember your husband is too sexy?”
Shane rolled his eyes. “I know we need to talk about my playing.” Ah, Ilya knew this was coming. Shane had been playing poorly…well, poorly for his standards. He had been missing goals more often and his passes were sloppier than normal. He was still better than 99.999 percent of the damn NHL, but Shane was his own worst critic. He just didn’t seem like himself, and all the sports pundits were gabbing about it. There was even a false rumor that had started that Ottawa was going to trade him, which Wiebe had repeatedly insisted both publicly and in private to Ilya and Shane was untrue. Ilya knew that it was tearing Shane up inside, but hadn’t quite found the right time to mention it. He didn’t want to make it seem like Shane’s playing was disappointing him.
“I don’t know what’s happened. I’m training twice as hard as normal, and I’m not missing goals in practice. I don’t know. I’m in a rut.” Ilya opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted. “And before you say anything, I need you to be my captain right now, not my husband.”
Ilya closed his mouth and paused. “Done?” He finally said after a few moments. Shane nodded. “Well, as your captain, I recommend you go home to your sexy husband and have sex with him.”
“Ilya, I’m serious! Captain mode!”
“I will go put on jersey if you need. But I am serious. You need to be yourself again. Sex is best medicine for that.”
“But we’ve had sex since I started playing like this. Multiple times. It’s not helping.” Shane sighed. Ilya stopped himself from teasing Shane about being so open to talk about his sex life with his captain-not-husband.
“You need something else to find yourself, then. Something to help you let go.” Ilya paused. “We have day off tomorrow. I think I know how you find yourself again.”
Shane raised his eyebrows. “And how is that?”
“Be patient, Hollander. You will see.”
“You did not just “Hollander” me.” Shane broke out into a grin.
“I thought I was captain!” Ilya raised his hands defensively. Shane grabbed onto Ilya and pulled him backwards onto the bed with him.
“I love you,” Ilya mumbled, kissing Shane chastely.
“I love you too. I hope this works.” Shane sighed.
“I think it will.”
~(Break)~
Shane got up early, like he did every morning. He softly kissed his still-sleeping husband on the cheek then got up to start his morning routine. He brushed his teeth then went downstairs to make himself a protein shake for breakfast. Morning workout, shower, then he’d meal prep for the rest of the week. He’d make lunches and dinners so that they wouldn’t have to worry about cooking dinner after a long day at practice. He was in the second kilometer of his morning run on the treadmill when the stairs squeaked.
Ilya was rubbing his eyes tiredly, not looking dissimilar to a child having just been woken up for school. He groggily made himself coffee and tossed a bagel in the toaster, then sauntered his way into the home gym. The sunlight was pouring in through the windows, causing Ilya’s golden hair to shine in a way that looked downright magical.
“Good morning,” Ilya yawned.
Shane slowed the treadmill down to a jogging pace. “Good morning.”
They sat like that for a moment, the only sounds in the room being Shane’s sneakers hitting the belt of the treadmill, which was slightly squeaking.
“When you finish your shower, I will be waiting for you in the bedroom.” Ilya yawned again, taking a sip of his coffee.
“Yeah?”
“I will make you yourself again. Do not worry about cooking, you will not have the energy for it.” Of course Ilya knew Shane’s exact plans for the day.
“What do you mean? What do you even have planned?”
Ilya’s sleepy smile began to resemble a smirk. “Trust your captain, Да? You will see.”
“If we’re just going to fuck, first of all, I told you that isn’t going to work, and second of all-”
“I am not going to fuck you.” Ilya suddenly looked very serious. “I know what you need, and it is not cock.”
Shane raised his eyebrows at that. “So what is it?”
Ilya rolled his eyes. “How many times must I say? It is surprise.” The toaster dinged that Ilya’s bagel was ready and Ilya disappeared back into the kitchen, and that was the end of that.
Shane finished his workout, which took way too long in Ilya’s opinion, and went upstairs to shower. Ilya was lounging on the bed, scrolling through social media on his phone. Shane walked over and stood beside the bed. Ilya’s face broke out into a lovesick grin when he saw Shane and dropped his phone, grabbing Shane by the hips and pulling him closer. Shane leaned down for a kiss, soft and gentle. He yelped when Ilya suddenly smacked his ass.
“You asshole! We were being cute!” Shane pouted.
“Your butt is what is cute, Hollander. Go shower.”
“ ‘Hollander,’ “ Shane mocked, doing a poor job of imitating Ilya’s accent.
“Last time you will be hearing your name today. Go.” Ilya’s voice darkened which made blush spread across Shane’s face. Ilya gave Shane’s ass a pat this time, much gentler than before, then returned to his phone. Shane scrambled to the bathroom, frantically undressing in a way that made Ilya have to stifle a laugh to protect the moment. He was so going to tease Shane about that later.
~(Break)~
Shane got out of the shower to discover the clothes he had laid out to put on had disappeared. He blinked confusedly and wrapped a towel around his waist, heading out into the bedroom. “Babe, did you move my clothes-” Shane was silenced by the sight that awaited him.
The curtains had been drawn and lamps were turned on, leaving the bedroom significantly dimmed. However, the light did allow Shane to see Ilya sitting on the foot of the bed. Ilya was only wearing a pair of grey sweatpants hung loosely around his hips, and, most importantly, had a black paddle laying across his lap. The paddle was small but looked like it packed a punch, with little hearts cut out of the leather. To the left of Ilya sat Shane’s collar. The metal lock was already unlatched, reflecting bits of light from the lamps.
“All clean?” Ilya cocked his head. Shane nodded softly and Ilya gained a dark look in his eye. “Good. Come here. I want to talk before we do this.” Ilya patted the spot on the bed to the right of him, and Shane obediently walked over and sat down. Shane could already feel his head swimming a little bit, the satisfying blanket of subspace begging to smother his brain. Ilya seemed to notice this and pinched Shane’s arm slightly, bringing him back to reality.
“Need you to focus, Малыш. Stay with me for a moment.” Shane nodded that he understood. “Do you remember your safe words?”
Shane nodded. “Yellow if I just need a break. Red if I need to stop.”
“Good. Do you remember the tapping?”
Shane nodded. “One for green, two for yellow, three or more for red.” They had needed to add the “for more” recently, after Shane had gotten too overstimulated and had practically beaten up the mattress trying desperately to get Ilya to stop.
“Good. Yellow is important. Would rather yellow before it becomes red, ok?” Ilya squeezed Shane’s thigh. Shane nodded softly. “Good. Good boy.” Ilya kissed the side of Shane’s head, causing a blush to settle across Shane’s face.
“I want to just hit you tonight.” Ilya patted the paddle on his lap, as if Shane didn’t know what it was used for. “Want you to stop your brain. I think it will help.”
Shane nodded softly, but couldn’t help but ask, “when did you buy a paddle?”
“Do you remember last time, when we tried this and broke the spoon?” Yes, when Ilya’s hands weren’t punishing enough, Ilya had tried to swat him with a wooden spoon. It had splintered within a few hits. That had been several months ago. Shane nodded. “The night after, I ordered this.”
“You’ve been hiding it for that long?”
Ilya shook his head. “Not hiding. Saving. For when you needed it.” He picked up the paddle and tapped it experimentally against one of Shane’s thighs. “Ok to start?”
Shane nodded. He was about to move to take off his towel, but sucked in a breath and squeezed his eyes together when Ilya brought the paddle down hard against his thigh.
“Ok? Not too harsh?” Shane opened his eyes, his pupils already slightly blown.
“No, no. It was good.” The words came out as a half-whimper.
Ilya’s fingers traced over the heart imprints the paddle left on Shane’s muscular thigh. He grinned. “Cute. Ok, over the side.” Shane moved quickly to tug his towel off and throw it into the laundry hamper. He laid himself over
the side of the bed, arms resting under his head and ass in the air. Ilya moved slower, standing beside Shane and gently rubbing his ass when it became available to him. He smacked at his right cheek, just enough to sting a little.
“I will not fuck you tonight. I will not touch you tonight.” Ilya’s voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. “This is not for sex. This is for your brain. Would you like underwear on?”
Shane thought for a moment, then nodded softly. He wanted to give himself a way of hiding at least a little bit how hard this was going to make him…and how hard he already was. Sometimes Ilya said he wasn’t going to touch Shane, but hours later would suck Shane off if he had been good, softly mumbling how good of a boy Shane was in between loving kisses to his head. This voice however…it indicated there would be no deviation from that plan. Ilya crossed the room to grab the pair of boxers that had been folded up on the dresser, part of the outfit Ilya had stolen from the bathroom. He walked back over.
“Stay there,” Ilya commanded, firm but gentle at the same time. He carefully guided Shane’s legs into the boxers and pulled them up over his ass. He patted Shane’s lower back softly. “Good boy.”
Ilya moved to stand beside Shane, gently rubbing a hand along Shane’s back. He dug in slightly between Shane’s shoulder blades, causing the other man to let out a soft groan, then a whine when Ilya’s hand pulled away. “I am going to hit you harder and harder until you tell me it is too much, then go one step below that, ok?”
Shane nodded. “Ok.”
“Good. Best if you relax. It will make the slip easier.” The into subspace was better left unsaid, as Shane often got embarrassed when his husband brought up the easy way he could make cool, collected, serious Shane fall apart completely then build him back up in one night.
Shane took a deep breath, then another. His eyes fell closed. “Ok, ready.”
“Ah! I almost forgot.” Ilya’s hand disappeared from where it had been resting on Shane’s lower back as he moved across the room. He grabbed the collar from where it had been laying and moved back to where he had been standing behind Shane. Without a warning, he wrapped an arm around Shane’s torso and lifted his chest off the sheets so Shane was now standing up straight, back pressed against Ilya’s bare chest.
“Stay.” Ilya left a kiss on Shane’s shoulder, then moved his attention to the collar. He wrapped it around Shane’s neck and secured the lock in place. Ilya gave it a soft pull, testing, and grinned at how responsive Shane was to it, following the collar with a whimper. He pulled the collar forward then let go of both the collar and Shane, letting the sub flop down onto the bed. “Ready?”
Shane nodded. “Yessir.”
Once they found Shane’s “too much” point, Ilya got set into a steady rhythm. Shane tried to count them for the first few, but eventually let his eyes close and relaxed into the sensation. This kind of pain would probably be upsetting or uncomfortable for anyone other than Shane. He wasn’t sure if hockey or Ilya was what made him a masochist, but the stinging sensation across his thighs, ass, and back were as satisfying to his brain as the ache in his legs after his workout this morning and the weight of the collar around his neck. So, probably a bit of both. It both heightened and dulled his senses, allowing him to block out the whole world except for the pain and weight grounding him to the scene and the man behind him.
By 20, Shane’s brain had completely floated away. The only sounds leaving his lips were little whimpers at each hit. Ilya paused and ran his hand along the reddening areas, earning himself more whines and whimpers.
“Color?” Ilya assumed he knew what the answer was, but felt better double checking.
Shane opened his mouth to respond but no words would come out, his mind too blissed out for that. He tapped once on the bed.
“Умница," Ilya cooed. “More?”
Shane whined.
“Tap one for yes, two for no.”
One tap on the bed.
“Умница.”
By 50, the pain was becoming less comforting and more upsetting. Before Shane could even get any taps in though, Ilya was putting the paddle down. “You are done.” He said, lacking a questioning tone. Maybe years ago, he would have been asking, but now, he was so in tune with Shane’s body he knew that his husband was reaching his limit.
“Are you ok?” Ilya gently ran a hand across Shane’s upper back. “I’m going to get you some aloe, is that ok?”
Shane nodded, making sure to move his head enough that it was obvious to Ilya.
“Be right back. Stay there.” Ilya patted Shane’s right shoulder blade gently, then walked into their bathroom. He came back with aloe, and carefully pulled off Shane’s boxers, letting them pool around his ankles as he rubbed the aloe into Shane’s lower back, ass, and thighs. Shane’s still hard cock, red and leaking a little, was so tempting as Ilya rubbed aloe into the heart shaped marks on Shane’s thighs. However, Ilya wanted to stay firm. This was not meant to be sexual. This was Ilya being a good captain and a good husband, taking Shane apart and putting him back together so Shane could return to the ice tomorrow stronger than ever.
Once Ilya was satisfied he put the aloe on the nightstand and pulled Shane’s boxers back up over him. “Do you want to cuddle?” Shane nodded enthusiastically and slowly moved so he was laying on the bed, arms open towards Ilya.
Ilya hugged Shane close to him, Shane’s arms practically squeezing Ilya’s chest as he tried to move them as close as possible. Shane rested his chin on Ilya’s shoulder, letting out a satisfied sigh.
After a few moments of laying like that, Ilya coaxed Shane onto his back. He got Shane to drink a little bit of water, Shane’s eyes still not fully focused and foggy.
It took about 5 minutes for that to fade into Shane’s normal, relaxed, post-fuck state. Ilya played with Shane’s hair for a little, then let his hands wander down to Shane’s collar. He fiddled with the lock. “Do you want this off?”
Shane shook his head. He moved his own hand up to rest his fingertips on the leather of the collar, the material providing even more comfort. It was such a nice reminder that no matter who he was, star hockey player or nothing at all, he would always be Ilya’s good boy. Nothing could take that away from him.
~(Break)~
“Hell of a hat trick, Hollander!” Troy had come over to Shane while he was in the middle of changing, glowing after a great game against New York. “What helped you out of your slump?” Shane’s head turned over his shoulder as he was folding up his jersey. Before he could answer, Troy started eyeing at the red marks climbing up Shane’s thighs and lower back. “Oh, I see.” He turned to Ilya, who was pulling off his own jersey. “Great brand, right? Harris loves their stuff.”
“Very affordable, as well,” Ilya agreed with a sly grin. “But eyes off my husband, Barrett.”
“Sorry.” Troy was still grinning when he walked away. Shane’s face was as red as the marks on his back as he tried to focus on folding his pants.
“You owe me,” Shane grumbled under his breath when Troy was out of earshot.
“After that hat trick? Whatever you want tonight.” Ilya grinned and gave Shane an overexaggerated kiss on the cheek, causing Shane to giggle.
Ilya moved his lips from Shane’s cheek to his ear. “But don’t pretend like you don’t love the attention, Hollander,” he whispered, then patted Shane on the butt. “Shower, then we can go celebrate.”
“Are you guys coming to Monk’s tonight? I think the whole team’s going.” Bood nudged Ilya’s shoulder. “Well, except for me. Baby won’t sleep if I’m not there.”
“I think Shane would rather celebrate at home, but thank you.” That earned Ilya a few wolf-whistles and a glare from Shane, who moved quickly to the showers before his husband could embarrass him anymore.
“Don’t bring him back with too many marks, the physios are going to start asking questions.” Troy was back from the showers, running a hand through his damp hair.
“I make no promises.” Ilya grinned, taking off the last of his gear and making his way to the showers, where he planned to spend more time harassing his husband than actually getting clean.