Work Text:
"You can unpack your clothes, you know. You don't have to live out of your suitcase while you're here." Shane nudged the pile of dirty laundry that lay on the floor of the bedroom (his bedroom? their bedroom?) He tugged his own shirt off and made a point of tossing it into the laundry basket instead of adding it to the mess.
"But I am lazy." Ilya was already lying on the bed, stretched out on his back, hands behind his head, a perfect vision of toned, muscular beauty waiting there for Shane to join him.
Shane gave a little frown, avoiding Ilya's gaze as he turned to strip off his shorts. I hate when you say that about yourself, he wanted to protest, it isn't true, stop saying it, but he didn't want to ruin the mood. Even now, they only had so much time together, and he hated to waste it on such petty issues as who put their socks where.
Instead, once he was fully undressed, he strolled slowly over to the bed. Ilya's eyes raked up and down his body hungrily, and he reached out a hand to pull Shane down once he was close enough to be grasped. Shane allowed himself to be drawn in for a kiss, lying half on Ilya, half on the bed, but he was still feeling a hint of frustration at the same time. "If you're so lazy," he said once they pulled apart for a moment, "maybe you should just lie there and let me do everything."
Ilya grinned. "Oh, you want to play a game? Okay, we can do that." He folded his hands behind his head again. "What do you want to do to me?"
Shane considered that for a moment, trailing his fingers across Ilya's chest. There were so many things he wanted to do, and he wanted to make each one of them count. Ilya was already hard - he was always so ready to go - and right now Shane wanted that huge cock in his mouth more than he wanted food or air or to win another cup. "I want to suck you," he said, the words still not feeling completely natural on his tongue, but better than they used to be. "Then... we'll see."
"I think I like this game," Ilya said. Shane lowered his mouth gradually onto Ilya's dick, taking his time in savouring the taste, the weight of it on his tongue, the soft nudge of his head against the roof of his mouth as he took it further, lips stretching wide. He could have happily sucked this cock forever. Ilya lay there, reasonably patient as Shane explored, seeing how far he could swallow it before he started to gag, trying to take it just a little bit deeper each time. "Fuck me," Ilya muttered under his breath, and reached down to stroke Shane's hair, only to find his hand pushed back and Shane pulling off him.
"I said you were going to just lie there," Shane reminded him. "That means no touching."
Ilya gave a little huff of frustration and put his hand back under his head. "Fine. I can follow rules, as long as you keep going."
Shane resumed sucking him, teasing him deliberately with the tip of his tongue until Ilya was breathing hard and the muscles in his thighs were flexing with the strain of holding himself back. Shane liked knowing he could have this effect on him, that Ilya would willingly keep himself in check for Shane's enjoyment, even when it was a struggle, even when he could easily have said this game was stupid and he wasn't going to play anymore. Shane wouldn't even have been mad - after all, how could he be upset if Ilya wanted him so much that he couldn't be patient? But they'd agreed to the rules for this match, and they were going to try to stick to them. Shane drew himself up, once again leaving Ilya aching for more, and knew what he wanted to do next.
He swung his leg over Ilya's body, straddling him. Ilya was staring up at him, his usual cockiness now mingled with a look that was pure awe. It was late afternoon and the bright light streaming through the cottage's huge windows cast a glowing sheen over them both, glinting off Ilya's hair with its amber curls. Shane took a moment to admire the view in front of him, and to wonder once again just how exactly he had been so lucky. Then, remembering what he had actually intended to do, he eased back a few inches until he felt Ilya's cock pressed against his ass. It was still slick from his mouth, and Shane had gotten himself ready for this so he was slick too. He reached back and, with a bit of careful effort, managed to guide Ilya into him, just barely. He waited there, letting himself adjust to the stretch, familiar and yet still incredible. Ilya's chest was heaving and it was clear he wanted more, but he didn't thrust, didn't even move. He let Shane stay kneeling above him until he was finally ready and could lower himself the rest of the way in a slow, languorous slide.
They stayed like that, Shane impaled on him, straddling his hips, for what felt like ages. Shane dragged his hands over Ilya's chest, down his stomach, then back up again, rocking slowly back and forth - not riding him, not yet, just savouring the feeling of fullness, closeness, the connection between the two of them. Ilya's hips twitched just slightly, clearly wanting to thrust, but he managed to restrain himself.
"You're being so good for me," Shane murmured to him, and admired the flush that spread across Ilya's cheeks at the praise. "You think you can wait a little longer?"
"I can do anything you want," Ilya said, his voice tight and hoarse.
"Good," Shane said, and started to ride him. He took it nice and slow, drawing out the strokes - so many times when they were younger, they'd had to rush through this, and Shane wanted to make it last now that they could afford to spend the time. He wasn't sure how long he could keep this pace up, but he was curious to find out. His cock bobbed gently as he rode Ilya, and Ilya's gaze kept flicking between it and his face, as if he couldn't decide which one he wanted to look at more. His hands were still folded behind his head, but Shane could see the way his arm muscles were tensed, like he was bursting to touch him, to do something, anything at all. All that power, held at bay just for him. Shane knew in that moment what it must feel like to be a king.
Gradually, almost imperceptibly, he quickened his pace, just a little at a time. As much as he longed to linger over this, his body was telling him to hurry up, go faster, take everything he wanted from Ilya. He tried to keep himself from speeding up too much, but slamming himself down on Ilya's cock felt so perfect that it was hard to resist. He compromised by going harder instead faster. With each rough stroke, each slap of flesh against flesh, Ilya almost seemed to wince, his face contorting with the pressure. "Fuck, Hollandeeeeeerrrr, are you trying to kill me with your ass?" he whined, drawing the name out into a plaintive lament.
"You complaining?"
"No," Ilya said through gritted teeth. "Would be a good way to go."
Shane gave a little hiss of laughter, planting his hands on Ilya's chest to brace himself. His fingers sought out Ilya's nipples and stroked them, pressing and pinching. Ilya's hands flew from their resting place involuntarily, fast as lightning, and he grabbed Shane's pecs in something between need and vengeance. Almost as fast, Shane seized his wrists and pinned them to the mattress. "No touching," he ordered again.
"Fine," Ilya replied. "I don't need hands to make you come anyway, remember?"
Shane did remember, quite vividly. He felt his face grow warm, but somehow managed to keep himself under control. "No, you remember, you're supposed to be proving how lazy you are," he said, still bouncing on Ilya's cock as he held him down. "Or... are you not actually lazy?"
Ilya groaned. From this close, Shane could see sweat beading on his brow, on his upper lip, in the hollow dip of his throat. He leaned in and licked almost as much as kissed him, tasting salt and satisfaction. "If I say no, I can fuck you?" Ilya asked, or maybe begged.
"Mmhmm," Shane nodded. "Admit you aren't lazy and you can do whatever you want to me."
"Okay, I'm not..." Ilya paused for a moment, as if the word was caught in his throat. "...lazy."
Shane smiled. "That's right," he said, and kissed him again out of pure happiness, releasing Ilya's wrists so he could put a hand to either side of his face instead. Ilya stretched his neck up to reach him better, gasping as he wrapped his arms around Shane's body, driving hard and fast into him now that he was free to do so. Each stroke made Shane gasp, and all he could do was on for dear life as Ilya rolled him over onto his back so that he could fuck him even harder. He managed somehow to get a hand between them, to reach his cock - it would be an exaggeration to even call it jerking off, it was just a touch, but that was all it took before he was coming, shuddering helplessly while Ilya followed him a few moments later.
"Was that good?" Shane asked afterwards, as they lay still entwined together on the bed. The late afternoon sun was dropping lower behind the trees now, and the glow was dimmer but not yet completely gone. "I wasn't too bossy, was I?"
"I like you bossy," Ilya replied. "You can do that again if you want."
"Oh. Okay," Shane said. He hesitated for a moment, but then added, "You really aren't lazy. I didn't just mean in bed. I meant about everything."
"Mm." Ilya grunted, turning over so that he was lying on his back next to Shane. "It's what I heard all the time when I was a kid." He was still holding Shane's hand, and squeezed it when he said that, until Shane felt like his heart and his fingers might break.
"Well, it isn't true," Shane said, feeling defensive of kid Ilya even though he was far too late to do anything to protect him at this point. "You work hard at things you care about."
"Hockey," Ilya said. "And sex. And making you happy."
"You do make me happy," Shane told him, deciding not to ask if that was a list ranked in order of importance. "And today it would make me happy if you unpacked your stuff and acted like you were allowed to live here, not just visiting."
"And put dirty clothes in the laundry basket," Ilya said. "I can do that for you, captain." But there was no bitterness to it, just a familiar prod of teasing that Shane knew meant Ilya wasn't upset as he agreed to Shane's request. Still, he couldn't help a certain mild glow of pleasure at Ilya calling him 'captain', even if it was half joking.
Ilya seemed to notice it too, glancing over in his direction. "Oh, you like that I called you that," he said, smirking. "You want me to call you that while I fuck you next time?"
Shane felt like his cheeks might burst into flames, and he had to stare at the ceiling for a bit to calm down. "Only if you want to."
"Maybe I will do that," Ilya told him with a knowing grin. "Just so I can see the look on your face."