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Ilya always thinks his husband is beautiful.
When they’re curled up together on the couch during the week, with Shane’s feet tucked under Ilya’s thighs and his glasses on while they make their grocery lists, Ilya thinks he’s beautiful.
When Shane races down the ice on a breakaway, leaving the opposing team behind and netting a slapshot top corner of the goal to score, Ilya also thinks he’s beautiful.
A sleepy Shane that is burrowed under their blankets with just a tuft of black hair sticking out while he looks up at Ilya is beautiful.
Shane, flushed and gesturing with his hands and a raised voice as he gets onto Ilya for not getting his socks into the hamper even though he’s told him countless times before, is still beautiful.
However.
A flushed Shane that’s begging for Ilya to fuck him while his eyes go glassy is the most beautiful.
-
They’re finally back in their hotel room after a gruelling game, and Ilya is torn between standing in the shower for an hour or just crawling into bed. He’s already stripped out of the clothes he wore to the arena, choosing instead to sprawl across one of the chairs in their room in just his boxer briefs.
There is a third option on the table, though, and that is to thoroughly fuck his husband until he cannot even remember his own name as a reward for scoring the game-winning goal.
Ilya is exhausted, and he knows Shane is exhausted, but there’s still a thrumming in Ilya’s veins that hasn’t really left since he crashed into Shane with a yell after the goal. And if he knows his husband, there’s a similar thrumming in Shane’s veins.
Tipping his head back against the back of the chair, Ilya cups a hand around himself and just squeezes once. The line between being happy about a win and being horny about a win has been blurred for a long time, and Ilya’s cock agrees with the way he hardens under his own hand.
There’s a good chance, too, that Shane is feeling the same, with the way this shower is trending more towards the length of a prep shower rather than just a shower to knock the grime of a game away.
An image comes into Ilya’s mind- Shane with two of his own fingers stretching himself out as he curls the other hand around his own cock tightly so he won’t come, his wet hair sticking to his flushed cheeks and shoulders as he bites back quiet moans.
It’s enough to have Ilya fully hardening under his own touch, and he only allows himself a few slow strokes before he forces himself to pull his hand away, He brushes a thumb along his own thigh for a moment as he focuses on his breathing, wiling himself to calm down slightly because he won’t be able to fuck Shane the way he deserves tonight if he’s too wound up.
Once he hears the shower turn off a few moments later, Ilya draws his hand away from his own thigh while rocking himself to his feet, and he stretches his arms above his head with a low groan. There’s a tightness settling in his right shoulder that he’ll need to keep an eye on, but it’s not his focus at the moment.
His focus is on getting to his beautiful husband.
The door to the bathroom is ajar just enough that some of the steam is escaping, and Ilya nudges it open with his foot so that he can slide into the room; his eyes are already focused on Shane, who’s got a towel wrapped low around his hips already as another one scrunches at his hair.
“You leave any hot water for me?” There’s a teasing lilt to Ilya’s voice, and his hands move to grip the warm skin of Shane’s hips above the towel. “Took a long time.”
Shane rolls his eyes as he places the towel he was using to dry his hair at the edge of the counter, and he uses his fingers to comb through his hair as he speaks. “You could’ve just gotten in too, you know.”
Ilya shrugs, “Mm, I had to give my body a break for a moment.” He catches sight of a rivulet of water running down Shane’s neck from the ends of his hair, and he leans in to catch it with his tongue. He can’t resist the urge to bite down on the skin, sucking gently at it until it blooms red under his mouth. “Had to make sure I had enough energy to reward my beautiful husband for his beautiful goal.”
Using the hold he has on Shane’s hips, he maneuvers them so that he can press his chest to Shane’s back and they’re both facing the mirror. Pressing a kiss to the mark he’s left on Shane’s neck, he rests his chin on his husband’s shoulder as his thumbs brush slowly along the skin of Shane’s stomach.
“It wasn’t that great,” Shane tries to argue, long used to Ilya draping himself over him while he’s trying to get a task done. “I’ve had better.” Reaching forward, he grabs the small bottle of lotion from his travel bag sitting beside the sink, putting some of it onto his fingers before he starts rubbing them over the dry skin of his knuckles.
Ilya hums in disagreement, tightening his grip on the other as he crowds closer to him, “I disagree. It was a beautiful goal scored by a beautiful man to win an ugly game.” Leaning around to press a kiss to Shane’s cheek, he tugs just once at the towel wrapped around his husband’s waist; when Shane doesn’t move to hold it in place, Ilya tugs it fully off, pushing it to the side with his foot once it hits the tile. “It deserves a reward.”
Shane tips his head back slightly so that the crown of it bumps against Ilya’s shoulder, and he catches Ilya’s gaze in the mirror with a small smile. “You think so?”
Nodding, Ilya slides one hand from Shane’s stomach to wrap around the base of his cock, and he squeezes gently to coax a low moan out of his husband. Ilya presses a kiss to the side of Shane’s head as he strokes him slowly, his own gaze flickering from Shane’s in the mirror to watching his hand move along his husband’s cock. “I do, yes.” He presses another kiss to the side of Shane’s head before he steps back slightly. He presses his thumb to the underside of Shane’s cock just below the head for just a moment before he lets go, and he grips both of his husband’s hips in hands once more. “You will be a good boy and take the reward I give you without fuss.”
It’s not a question, it never is. Ilya knows that Shane always carries the innate need to be good, to do what is asked of him to the best of his abilities no matter the situation.
When he sees Shane nod, Ilya reaches out with a foot to draw the towel that was dropped earlier closer to himself before he drops to his knees; as much as he likes to be on his knees for his husband, he isn’t 18 anymore and kneeling on a tile floor for a period of time after a game is not something his knees will forgive easily.
His hands smooth from Shane’s hips back to his ass, and he digs his fingers in so the skin under his touch goes pale. “It’s a safe guess to say long shower means you got yourself ready for me?” Ilya can see the faint glisten of lube across the skin of Shane’s inner thighs, and he leans forward to press a kiss to the crease where Shane’s ass meets his thigh. “Good boy.”
Shane shifts on his feet, and Ilya uses the motion to coax Shane into turning fully around; his cock is already hard between his legs, and Ilya leans forward to brush his lips over the head of Shane’s cock before he takes it into his mouth, suckling gently. The moan that his husband lets out above him spurns Ilya into motion, and he swallows Shane down to the hilt as two of his fingers come up to brush against his rim.
Fingers immediately tangle in golden curls, and when Shane’s hips jerk forward into Ilya’s mouth, he uses his free hand to pin his husband’s hips back against the counter.
“Ilya, fuck, I-“
Shane’s words are cut off with a moan as Ilya starts a quick rhythm with his mouth, taking Shane’s cock all the way down to the hilt and swallowing around him before he pulls back to press his tongue under the head. He presses the pad of his fingers tight against Shane’s rim, humming quietly when the action makes Shane’s cock blurt precum over his tongue.
The grip on Shane’s hip is tight, but his hips still try and jerk forward into the warm heat of Ilya’s mouth or back against his fingers. “Ilya, please, I need-“ a whine interrupts Shane’s words once again when Ilya pulls back so just the head is resting on his tongue. “-I need you.”
Digging his thumb into the crease of Shane’s hip, Ilya presses a single kiss to the side of Shane’s cock before he pulls back fully to look up at his husband; Shane’s face is flushed, his freckles vibrant against the red of his cheeks, and his eyes are blown dark with arousal.
“Is this not enough of a reward?” Ilya drags his tongue along the underside of Shane’s cock, and he has to fight back a smirk at the noise it draws out of his husband. “You think you deserve more?”
Shane whimpers, and his fingers move from gripping Ilya’s hair to combing through the curls gently. “Please.” There’s a slight tremble to Shane’s voice when he speaks, and he tries to press his hips forward towards Ilya’s mouth once more.
“Please…what?” Ilya presses a kiss to the crease of Shane’s hip, nipping gently at the skin there with his teeth. “Please leave me alone? Please stop touching me?” There’s a slight smirk on Ilya’s face when Shane starts shaking his head, the fingers in his hair tugging once more. “Use your words, Shane.”
Ilya presses another kiss to Shane’s skin as he hears his husband take in a trembling breath above him, hiding the smirk still on his face against the other’s hip. The pads of his fingers press more insistently at Shane’s rim, and the motion has Shane rocking back against them with another whine.
“Fuck me,” the words break halfway through, but Shane continues, the flush on his cheeks deepening as he uses the grip on Ilya’s hair to try and pull the other up off his knees. His hips are still making small, aborted movements towards Ilya.
Tsking quietly, Ilya shifts his head to press a single kiss to the side of Shane’s cock, the hand that was between his husband’s legs moving so that they’re now both gripping his hips as he looks up at the other. “Ah, but we were so polite just a few moments ago!” Ilya raises slowly, trailing his mouth along the lines of Shane’s abs and along a line on his chest; he pauses to tug gently at one of Shane’s nipples with his teeth, and the noise Shane makes in response has Ilya’s own cock twitching in his briefs. He slides his hands from Shane’s hips around to his ass, gripping tightly as he presses a kiss to Shane’s lower lip. “Boys who want rewards know to ask politely.”
Shane tips his head for a kiss, both of his hands now resting on the side of Ilya’s neck instead of in his hair, and Ilya indulges him for just a few seconds before he pulls away, laughing quietly at the whine of disappointment Shane makes as he tries to chase his mouth.
“Please,” the words are whispered between them, Shane’s thumbs brushing against the skin of Ilya’s neck as he raises his gaze to make eye contact, brown going slightly glassy with tears. “Please fuck me.” There’s a pause, and just when Ilya is about to praise Shane, he tugs on Ilya’s bottom lip with his teeth before he continues once more. “Sir.”
Ilya lets out a groan at the word, crowding his husband back against the counter as he leans in to kiss him; Shane’s hands slide down Ilya’s body slowly until they reach the waistband of his underwear, and he pushes them down with a whimper as Ilya licks into his mouth.
He knows there’s a bottle of lube that stays in the bag on the counter, and he also knows Shane well enough to know that the other man put it back into its rightful place even after fingering himself in the shower.
Pulling away with a bite to Shane’s lower lip, Ilya brings two of his own fingers up to press onto the swollen skin. Shane doesn’t hesitate, immediately bringing them into his mouth and running his tongue along them.
“My beautiful boy,” the words are a low whisper, and Ilya can see the way Shane’s cheeks darken even as he continues to suck gently at his fingers. “So good for me.”
Holding the lube up between them, he nudges it against Shane’s chest while his fingers press down on the other’s tongue. Shane takes the hint, uncapping the lube with his hands and coating Ilya’s fingers that aren’t in his mouth with it.
Never wanting to hurt his husband, Ilya takes the time to press two of his lube-coated fingers into Shane slowly. Stretching him carefully, Ilya leans down to press a kiss to the corner of each of Shane’s eyes before he presses his fingers further into the other’s mouth; it’s been a long time since Shane has choked on anything Ilya has given up, and the sight of him taking the fingers so easily as Ilya’s cock twitching once again.
It’s a few moments and one more finger later before Ilya deems Shane ready, and he slowly pulls his fingers out of his husband’s mouth and from between his legs. All it takes is one small pat to his hip and Shane is turning in his arms, bending slightly at the waist and letting his hands curls around the edges of the counter.
Ilya picks up the lube from where Shane had set it on the counter moments before, popping the cap and coating his own length with it. He has to squeeze the base of his cock just once with a small groan, the other hand moving to rest on Shane’s hip.
Guiding himself between his husband’s legs, he notches the head of his cock against Shane’s rim, and he has to tighten the grip he has on the other’s hip when he tries to push back against him.
“You will wait,” the order is spoken lowly, and Ilya isn’t even finished speaking it before Shane is nodding rapidly.
Ilya can feel the slight tremble in Shane’s body from forcing himself still, and he presses in with a steady motion, only stopping when his hips are snug against Shane’s ass.
The hand that was guiding himself into his husband’s body makes a slow trail up his back instead, threading into the still-damp strands of Shane’s hair. His other hand settles on Shane’s side, fingers splaying across his ribs as he draws back slowly before rocking in again.
The sound of their bodies meeting in the bathroom is loud, but the noises that Shane can’t fight back are louder. Settling into a steady rhythm, Ilya uses the grip he has on Shane’s hip to draw him back into his thrusts, and the punched-out noises Shane makes whenever Ilya nudges the head of his cock into his prostate have Ilya groaning as well.
Shane draws one of his hands away from the counter to wrap around his cock, but bats it away with the hand not tangled in Shane’s hair. “Ah, no, I believe you can come just from my cock.” The hand in Shane’s hair tugs just once, and it’s enough to have Shane catch Ilya’s gaze in the mirror.
Ilya lets his own gaze travel over his husband in the mirror- his cheeks are a deep red, and his bottom lip is swollen from where he’s been trying to stifle his noises. Shane’s cock is heavy between his legs, damp from where he’s been leaking. His eyes are wet, and Ilya knows that it won’t take but a few more well-aimed thrusts and another tug to Shane’s hair to get the tears spilling over.
Adjusting his hips just slightly, Ilya moves so he’s nudging up against Shane’s prostate with each thrust, and he can tell from the way Shane’s breathing is hitching that he’s getting close.
Tightening his grip on Shane’s hair, Ilya uses it to tug his husband’s head to the side so that he can see the flush on his cheeks himself rather than just in the mirror, as well as the way tears are gathering along the bottom of Shane’s eyes. His husband’s cheeks are flushed a dark red as he whines, the freckles scattered across them more prominent now that the skin under them is red. Unable to help himself, Ilya tugs at Shane’s hair once just hard enough that some of the tears slip down his face.
“This is what you like, yes?” Ilya presses his chest harder to Shane’s back so that the other’s chest brushes against the counter, and the shift of his hips has Shane whining again and his fingers scrambling to find a better hold on the edges of the counter. “Being fucked so good by my cock you can’t think of anything else?”
Stilling his thrusts for a moment, Ilya keeps himself buried to the hilt as he grinds in a slow circle instead. Shane nods as best as he can with the tight grip Ilya still has on his hair, whining quietly once again as he tries to rock his hips back against Ilya’s.
Making a soft noise, Ilya tugs Shane’s hair once more as he noses at his cheek, his voice low as he speaks again, “You don’t even have words left, do you? Just pretty noises and tears.” Ilya smirks against his husband’s warm skin before he darts his tongue out, catching one of the rolling tears with a hum. “Such a good boy.”
Ilya barely gets the words out before Shane is clenching down around him with a whine, his hips jerking as he spills onto the counter in front of him. Letting out a quiet noise of his own, Ilya presses a kiss to the damp skin of Shane’s cheeks as he quickens the pace of his hips in chase of his own release.
Shane’s chest is heaving as he lets out little whines at the overstimulation, one of his hands leaving the counter to grip Ilya’s over his hip. He brushes his tongue across his own bottom lip to wet it, and it takes a moment for Ilya to catch that Shane’s saying something in between whines.
“P-please, please, please,” Shane’s hips are moving weakly back into Ilya’s thrusts, the tears on his cheeks glistening in the lights from around the mirror. “Please.”
Ilya has never been able to deny his husband anything, and it’s only a few more thrusts before he’s spilling into Shane’s body with a groan, burying his cock to the hilt as he does so. He drops his head forward to press his forehead to Shane’s shoulder as he takes in a few deep breaths, riding out the aftershocks as his hips keep twitching before finally stilling.
The hand in Shane’s hair follows the same path from earlier, down his back and to his hip, and one of Shane’s comes up to shakily grip Ilya’s curls. They don’t move for a few heartbeats before Ilya straightens up, dropping a kiss to Shane’s shoulder before he slowly eases himself to his knees.
Shane makes a questioning sound above him that turns into another whine when Ilya grips his ass, spreading him just enough that he can brush the flat of his tongue along where his own spend is trailing out of his husband.
Ilya cleans him up slowly, reveling in the way Shane’s hips keep twitching and the hand he managed to keep in his hair keeps flexing in his curls. With one more kiss to his husband’s rim, he trails his mouth from between Shane’s legs to press one final kiss to the back of his thigh.
Raising himself back to standing, Ilya uses gentle hands to turn Shane around so his back is against the counter and he’s chest to chest with Ilya. His hair is damp at the temples, and the flush on his cheeks hasn’t disappeared just yet; there’s also a trail of tears down his cheeks, and Ilya leans in to press a kiss to each cheek as he rubs soothingly at Shane’s hips with his thumbs.
“Beautiful.”
-
Ilya always thinks his husband is beautiful.
He was beautiful earlier once he had come back to himself, fussing at Ilya that he needed another shower.
He was beautiful on his knees of said shower with Ilya’s cock buried in his throat and his own coming untouched between his legs for the second time that night.
He’s beautiful in the moonlight peeking their hotel room windows, thoroughly sated and drifting into sleep curled up against Ilya’s chest.
Ilya will never think otherwise.