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Ilya was dying.
His boyfriend was across the bar, looking incredibly sexy in some new outfit Ilya had never seen before, and Ilya wasn’t allowed to touch him. He was hardly allowed to even look at him. They were at least able to be publicly friendly with each other now, but it wasn’t enough. Ilya wanted to put his hands all over Shane, but he couldn’t in this hotel bar full of NHL players, so he was dying.
The All-Star weekend had become one of his favorite events after he and Shane became a couple - even when they were in shitty cities like Buffalo. Partially because he really did love playing on a team with Shane, but also because it meant they had an extra day or two together that they wouldn’t have otherwise. Even if he had to spend parts of those days pretending like Shane wasn’t his entire world, and that they were simply just friends.
To distract himself, he decided to bother Bennett. But even grilling him about his retirement and Bennett’s admission that he was bisexual were not enough to truly keep Ilya’s mind off how much he wanted Shane. Nothing ever really could.
It wasn’t helped by Shane approaching the table where Ilya and Eric were sitting, preening under Bennet’s praise of his performance in the obstacle course earlier. He shot Shane a glare, which Shane met with a level gaze, only building Ilya’s frustration further. God, he loved him, and god he could not wait to fuck him later.
He was mostly pretending to be upset that Shane had totally smoked him in their event earlier, primarily to keep up appearances. In reality, he really wasn't all that mad about it. He did love beating Shane, whether it was on the ice or in something as simple as video games. But winning made Shane very horny, so, in the end, Ilya would be the actual winner tonight. He was mostly annoyed at how smug Shane was being about it.
Shane excused himself, saying he was headed up to his room. Ilya knew he’d mostly said it so that Ilya would follow him up at a respectable time after, as they’d discussed earlier. He probably should give it some time, so as not to raise suspicions, but there was no way Ilya was going to wait that long.
As much as he’d like to sit with Bennett and continue to tease him about that blonde twink from the Kingfisher, his boyfriend would be upstairs, alone in a hotel room any moment. He lied about heading to the bathroom and made a beeline straight for the elevators instead. If Eric noticed he was going the opposite way of the bathrooms, he was sure he didn’t care. If anything, he was probably glad to be free of Ilya’s interrogations.
He knocked on Shane’s door, holding back a laugh when his boyfriend answered with a pinched expression. He still took a step back, letting Ilya in and closing the door behind him.
“You said you’d wait like twenty minutes,” Shane hissed as he followed Ilya into the room.
“I told Bennett I was going to the bathroom,” Ilya countered.
“The bathroom is nowhere near the elevators!”
Ilya groaned. “Hollander. You are paranoid. Everyone down there is either too drunk or does not care enough to notice.”
“You should have waited at least a little,” Shane complained, but Ilya could tell the fight was leaving him.
“I missed you too much,” Ilya said, honestly. “I could not wait to be alone with you.”
“We literally saw each other two days ago,” Shane grumbled, but his constipated expression had softened immediately, and Ilya knew he’d won.
“I know,” Ilya replied. “But I miss you every moment we are apart.”
It was true. Whether it was two days or two months, Ilya missed him all the same. He was thankful that it was never as bad as two whole months anymore, not since he’d signed with Ottawa. He honestly wasn’t sure how he survived the first year of their relationship in Boston, being so far from Shane for so long. Now, even the two-hour drive still felt like an ocean between them, most nights.
Shane thunked his forehead onto Ilya’s chest with a sigh, finally, finally wrapping Ilya in his arms.
“It's really hard to be annoyed with you when you say stuff like that," Shane sighed.
Ilya chuckled, pulling him closer and burying his nose into Shane's hair, taking a deep inhale of his boyfriend's expensive shampoo.
They stayed like that for just a moment, swaying as they held each other. Both of them had gotten into Buffalo that morning and had practically hit the ground running, so they had yet to have a moment alone. Shane pulled back just a little so that their eyes met, and then they were finally, finally kissing.
It was slow and tender, unhurried because they knew they had plenty of time tonight. Even if Ilya had an earlier flight tomorrow, the night was still young.
"I missed you, too, by the way," Shane said eventually.
"Mmm, I know," Ilya replied. "Apparently not enough to rub how badly you beat me in my face.”
“You’re being a drama queen. I was not rubbing it in your face.”
"Oh, the obstacle course was so easy, Bennet," Ilya mocked. “My name is Shane Hollander, and I am an incredible skater.”
Shane had only actually said the first half, the second was mostly Ilya embellishing so that he could tease Shane while simultaneously praising him.
Shane laughed, body shaking against Ilya's as he pulled back to smile up at him.
"It was easy," he grinned. "For me, at least. Sorry if you can't relate."
Ilya gasped in mock offense. "And everyone thinks you are so polite, Hollander. If only they knew you are an asshole, too.”
“I don’t think they’d believe you if you tried to tell them,” Shane goaded.
“They would not,” Ilya agreed. “All they see is a polite, Canadian boy with sweet brown eyes and beautiful freckles. They do not see the jerk that is beneath.”
“You can’t tell anyone else, it’s top-secret. Only you can know.”
"Want to know something else top-secret about another player?” Ilya asked. “Nothing crazy, but I think only me and probably Hunter know at this point.”
As much as they both, and Shane especially, liked to pretend they were above it all, they loved to gossip together. It had been one of the first bridges in their relationship, one that had felt safe at first. Talking about the goings-on in hockey, and other players, had felt like very normal, neutral ground.
“Do tell,” Shane said.
"Bennett is retiring," Ilya said. Part of him was dying to tell Shane the other gossip about Bennett - that he was bisexual and fucking a twenty-five-year-old - but Eric wasn't out yet, and that would be crossing a line. Telling Shane about Bennett's retirement wasn't nearly in the same realm as outing him. "Don't tell anyone yet. He will announce it after this weekend. But this is his last season."
"Damn," Shane said. "He's had a pretty great season, but I get it. I mean, he's like what, forty by now?"
"Forty-one," Ilya corrected.
“And he’s had an almost two-decade career. A great one at that. Not a bad age to retire at.”
Ilya snorted.
"What?" Shane asked.
"Oh, please. You would play until you were seventy if you had the chance. They will have to drag you off the ice kicking and screaming," he ribbed.
"Well, the original plan was fifty-three so I could beat out Gordie Howe’s record,” Shane teased. "But now…"
"Now, what? You are starting to realize that fifty-three is very old for hockey players?” Ilya asked. “Though if anyone could do it, it would be you.”
“It is pretty old for a hockey player, but it’s not just that it’s…” Shane trailed off, suddenly growing a little shy. It was something he rarely did around Ilya anymore, so it caught him off guard. "If we're waiting until we retire to be fully out together…I don't want to wait that long."
"You would retire early for me?" Ilya asked, breathless.
"Well, not like early, early,” Shane said. “But definitely more around Bennett's age. I know that's still like over ten years down the line but -“
Ilya cut him off with a kiss.
“I love you.”
He kissed Shane again, longer and deeper this time.
“I know,” Shane said as they parted.
“And I missed you,” Ilya said.
“I can tell,” Shane quipped.
He thought about what he’d said to Bennett earlier about his own retirement. How he wanted a farewell season with parades and everyone crying at every game. And while that was sort of true, all he really wanted from his retirement was a chance to be with Shane. Really be with Shane. Maybe even marry him - publicly. God, he’d be ecstatic at this point to even be able to just post a casual photo of them together on his Instagram. The idea of being publicly married nearly made him dizzy.
Ilya banished the thoughts from his head as soon as they came so that he could focus on the present. Right now, Shane was here in front of him, looking very sex,y and Ilya wanted nothing more than to rile him up and get him naked.
“I don't want to talk about other players anymore,” he said.
“You were the one who brought it up!” Shane huffed.
“Yes, and now I am ending it,” Ilya said. “I think you deserve something special tonight, moy pobeditel.”
Shane’s face scrunched in concentration as he translated the Russian word in his head. “Your…winner?”
“Very good. Yes, you won. What would you like as a reward?” Ilya asked.
Shane blinked rapidly. “Reward?”
“Yes, reward, Hollander. Even I know this English word. Would you like me to define it for you?”
“Fuck you,” Shane said, though it came out breathy.
“Yes, that is the idea,” Ilya said. “Tell me what you want.”
He gave Shane some time to think of what he wanted, taking the opportunity to trail kisses along his jaw. He nipped at the lobe of Shane’s ear before continuing his path of kisses down his neck. He took a moment to suck gently at the juncture of Shane’s neck, not hard enough to leave a mark but just enough to make Shane’s breath speed up.
“Tell me what you want,” Ilya repeated, pulling back so they were eye-to-eye again.
“I…I don’t know,” Shane finally admitted, floundering.
“Shhh,” Ilya soothed. “Is okay. Would you like me to decide?”
Shane nodded emphatically. He had gotten very good at asking for what he wanted, when he wanted it. But sometimes, calling the shots overwhelmed him, and he wanted Ilya to be the one to make all the decisions. Especially when Ilya put him on the spot like this, and he didn’t have time to think ahead. It seemed tonight was one of those times, and Ilya was always more than happy to oblige.
“Good, because I have an idea,” Ilya grinned.
The place they’d been put up in this year had been fancier than most. Probably because a hotel block in Buffalo in the middle of winter was dirt cheap. When he’d checked into his room earlier and saw the bathroom - identical to Shane’s - a plan had started to form in his brain.
It was open to the rest of the room and made up of three mirrored walls, with the one directly across the sink hosting two doors (also mirrored) that led to the shower and a water closet, respectively. Even the inside of those doors had mirrors, too. The rooms were clearly designed for people to fuck in, if the sheer number of reflective surfaces in the bathroom was anything to go by. Ilya planned to utilize them to their fullest degree.
“I want you to go into the bathroom and get naked,” Ilya started. “Face the mirror above the sink. Put both hands on the counter and wait for me. Do not touch yourself. Can you do that?”
Shane’s breath hitched as he nodded.
“Words, Shane. I want to hear it,” Ilya said.
“Yes, I can do that,” Shane breathed.
“Very good,” Ilya praised. “Go first, and I will meet you in there. Condom?”
“Not tonight.”
Ilya took his time grabbing the lube from Shane’s bag while Shane amenably headed to the bathroom. The room was so quiet, he could hear the slight rustling of Shane removing his clothes echoing softly from the bathroom. He debated on whether he should get naked as well but decided to stay fully dressed, at least for the time being. He removed his shoes and socks, though, padding as silently across the room as he could.
Shane stood, just as Ilya had directed him. He was fully naked, clothes folded and neatly tucked away into the back corner of the vanity. Both of his hands were planted on the counter as he faced the mirror with his legs spread and his back arched beautifully, ass on display. Ilya wanted to devour him.
Hearing his approach, Shane looked up, eyes meeting Ilya’s in the mirror. For a moment, they just stared at one another, gazes locked as heat pooled in Ilya’s belly. He couldn’t see below Shane’s waist, but he’d bet good money that he was currently rock hard.
Shane only broke their stare so that he could look over his shoulder at Ilya, eyes pleading. He was so fucking beautiful and so, so obedient.
“You are so good for me,” Ilya said.
Shane moaned, eyes closing for a moment as his hips twitched ever so slightly at the praise.
“You gonna fuck me?” He murmured, words slightly slurred with lust.
“Yes, sweetheart. I am,” Ilya said, finally coming up and pressing the front of his body against Shane’s as he placed the lube within reach on the counter.
Shane gasped, arching back into the touch ever so slightly. The polarity of Shane’s bare body against his own fully clothed one was just as delicious as he expected it to be. He brought a hand around Shane’s front and up to cup his jaw, turning his head so that he was facing the mirror again.
“I am going to fuck you, and you are going to watch,” Ilya continued. “Does not matter which mirror you look at, as long as you are watching us.”
Shane’s eyes darted around the room wildly, most likely realizing for the first time just how many angles of them could be seen around the bathroom, thanks to the egregious amount of mirrors.
“Do you understand?” Ilya asked.
Shane nodded mutely.
“Good. And you are okay with this plan?”
Shane nodded again, more vigorously this time. “Yes.”
Ilya rewarded him for the verbal answer with a kiss to Shane’s cheek, a laughably chaste gesture in the face of their current situation.
“Spread your legs a little more,” Ilya said, feigning nonchalance as he tapped on the inside of Shane’s thighs in encouragement.
Shane compiled immediately, bending forward slightly as he did, arching his back even further than Ilya had thought possible. He couldn’t help the urge to lean forward, placing a line of kisses up Shane’s spine as he started to slowly trail his fingers down Shane’s front. He ghosted them over his abs, going low enough that his pinkie just grazed the tip of his hard, leaking cock before immediately tracing back upwards.
Shane’s hips jerked at that barest brush of contact, and Ilya had to fight back a grin as he let slip a frustrated groan when the touch was taken away. It was clear that Shane was impatient, but Ilya refused to be rushed. He planned to take his time, mostly to make Shane desperate enough to beg. Ilya loved it when he let go during sex. When he got needy and asked for exactly what he needed.
Next on Ilya’s path were Shane’s pecs. He grasped them in both hands, squeezing and swiping his thumbs over Shane’s nipples.
“Look at you,” Ilya whispered breathlessly into Shane’s ear as he continued tracing lazy touches all over his chest and stomach. “So fucking hot. I love your body.”
Shane gasped, rolling his hips as he grasped onto the counter for dear life, knuckles nearly white. Ilya slid his hands further down so that he was brushing past Shane’s hipbones to the tender, sensitive flesh of the crease of his groin and his inner thighs. He purposefully trailed a finger up the seam of his cock on his next pass upward, which earned him a high, desperate whine. Still, Shane’s hands had not once strayed from their place in front of him. It drove Ilya crazy when he followed his directions obediently.
“You are being very good for me, keeping your hands on the counter.”
“Fuck, Ilya. Touch me, please,” Shane groaned.
“I am touching you,” Ilya grinned. “Be more specific.”
“Inside, I want you inside me,” Shane demanded.
“Hmm. My fingers? My cock?”
“Either. Both. I don’t care. Please, you’re killing me here,” Shane complained.
“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Ilya said, placing a kiss against the back of Shane’s neck and grabbing the lube from the bathroom counter.
Shane sighed in relief, entire body melting at the first press of Ilya’s finger. Ilya prepped him efficiently, he was starting to grow impatient himself, his cool demeanor a complete facade. He’d been dying to get inside Shane ever since he saw the flash of fire in his eyes after he’d won their event. Even on a normal day, Shane turned him on like no one else did.
For a time, he’d told himself it was only because he was something secret and forbidden. Perhaps that had been a key factor in the early stages of their relationship, but now he knew it was because he loved Shane and Shane loved him, and being in love with the person he was fucking got him going in ways he’d never thought possible.
If he was ever worried that the newfound stability in their relationship would douse their sparks, he was sorely mistaken. If anything, it had given them the comfort and security to try new things. Push their own limits, like they were doing tonight.
He pulled himself from his thoughts, focusing back on Shane, who was pushing back ever so slightly on Ilya’s fingers, eyes shut in pleasure.
“Keep your eyes open,” he said as he added another. “And watch as I fuck you with my fingers.”
His eyes flicked open, looking to the mirrored wall perpendicular to the sink where they were reflected head to toe. Their gazes locked for a moment before Shane’s eyes dropped down to where Ilya was currently working him open. He watched, lips parted, and though the view didn’t really show anything all that explicit, it was still a heady sight.
“You can touch me if you like,” Ilya encouraged.
Immediately, one of Shane’s hands came back to tug at Ilya’s clothes, eyes never leaving the mirror. Ilya knew he was silently asking him to get naked as well, but he wanted to hear it.
“This is still your reward. If you want something, ask,” Ilya taunted.
“Take off your fucking clothes,” Shane demanded. “I wanna feel you against me.”
Ilya complied, putting just enough space between them to rid himself of his outfit. He fucking loved when Shane got bossy and demanding, whether it was while they were fucking or just in their everyday lives. Even when Ilya was technically the one in control, there was very little that Shane could ask of him that he wouldn’t do.
As soon as his clothes were off, he was back in Shane’s space, pressing their naked bodies together, his cock sliding into the cleft of Shane’s ass. He slipped his fingers back inside, more so to tease Shane than anything. He’d opened beautifully for Ilya.
“I’m ready, I need you to fuck me,” Shane urged.
And because he’d decided that he’d already tortured Shane enough - and not because he was desperate to be inside him - Ilya slicked his cock quickly before lining himself up and easing into Shane.
They groaned in unison as he slid in. Being inside Shane was still just as revelatory as it had been the first time, even more so when there was nothing in between them. Ilya took a moment to gather himself in an attempt to muster up some semblance of control.
“What do you see in the mirror?” Ilya asked as he started to thrust slowly, one hand on Shane’s hip, the other on his shoulder.
Shane’s eyes landed first on the mirror in front of them, locking gazes with Ilya for a few moments before his gaze shifted back to the wall that showed their entire bodies.
“Fuck,” Shane panted. “I see how good we look together.”
“We really do, sweetheart,” Ilya agreed, the pet name eliciting a surprised gasp from Shane.
It seemed Shane wasn’t sure where he wanted to look most - in front of him so he could watch their faces, or to the side so he could see the way their bodies moved together. Ilya couldn’t blame Shane, it was overwhelming even for him. Everywhere he turned, he saw himself inside the man he loved. The best person he knew.
“Want to know what I see?” Ilya asked, picked up speed.
The bathroom amplified the noise of them fucking, the sound of skin on skin reverberating through the mirrored space so loudly it was almost lewd. Combined with the fact that he could see Shane from nearly every angle, it only made Ilya harder, spurring him into near desperation.
“I see the bravest, most beautiful man I know,” Ilya said. “I see an incredible captain, an incredible player. I see my favorite person in the world. And I see how good he looks while being fucked.”
Overwhelmed, Shane dropped his head, hanging it between his shoulders as he moaned with each of Ilya’s thrusts. And that wouldn’t do.
Ilya slipped a hand into Shane’s hair, yanking his head back and forcing him to be eye level with the mirror. His eyes were still closed in pleasure, freckles on his nose scrunched.
“Open your eyes,” Ilya encouraged
Shane immediately obeyed without hesitation, which sent fire racing through Ilya’s veins. He fucking loved it when Shane got like this during sex. When he was able to let go and just be in the moment, all of his usual overthinking out the window.
“Look at yourself,” Ilya demanded. “Look how beautiful you are.”
He observed as Shane watched himself in the mirror, his mouth dropping open in a silent groan. As Ilya continued to fuck into him, pace unrelenting, he watched as Shane fought against the instinctual urge to shut his eyes again.
“Yes, just like that. Keep watching. Always so fucking good for me,” Ilya praised, punctuating the “good” with a particularly harsh thrust that had Shane crying out.
“So good and so pretty when you are on my cock,” Ilya continued.
The praise wrung a strangled moan out of Shane. Ilya knew him and his body well enough by now to know that he was very close to coming. It would probably take the barest touch to his cock to get him there, which was good, because Ilya was approaching the edge himself.
Shane had been so good for Ilya tonight, he deserved to come. But before Ilya let him, he wanted to hear Shane beg for it, one last time. He relaxed his hand in Shane’s hair, bringing it across his chest, pulling him fully upright as his other came back down to settle just above his dick.
Each thrust had the tip of Shane’s rigid cock bumping up slightly against his hand. It seemed to be the final straw for Shane, who let out a frustrated cry.
“Please,” Shane begged, voice hoarse.
“Please, what?” Ilya asked, holding on to the remnants of his control.
“Please touch me. Make me come. I need to come,” Shane gasped, eyes brimming with unshed tears of desperation.
As a reward, Ilya finally circled his hand around Shane’s neglected cock, giving it a few light pumps before tightening his grip and stroking it the way he knew Shane liked.
“Do it,” Ilya encouraged, hand speeding up on Shane’s cock. “You have been so perfect tonight. Now come for me.”
It only took a few more thrusts, and Shane was crying out, grasping onto Ilya’s arm across his chest as he came untouched. Ilya was mesmerized. It was truly a spectacular sight to be able to watch Shane come apart like this. To see it from a multitude of angles he’d never witnessed before. To know Ilya was the one who got him there, who made him feel this way.
Once he was done, Shane practically collapsed back into him, completely spent. Ilya kept one arm across Shane’s chest, steadying the other on his hip as he took the brunt of his weight, continuing to fuck him as he chased his own orgasm. Shane reached a hand back, sliding it into Ilya’s curls in an attempt to stabilize himself as Ilya’s hips relentlessly pistoned into him. He was so close, he wouldn’t be far behind.
“C’mon,” Shane slurred. “Want you to come in me.”
Ilya gripped Shane’s hip so hard he knew he’d leave a bruise as he came immediately, as if commanded by Shane. Even when he was the one technically in control, he knew who really held the reins. As evidenced by the fact that he’d practically just come on demand.
“You’re really hot when you come,” Shane said, still sounding a little dazed.
He looked up to see Shane watching him in the mirror. Ilya chuckled, kissing along his shoulder and up behind his ear.
“I can not say I agree, but I am glad you think so.”
“I’m the only one whose opinion matters,” Shane murmured.
“That is true,” Ilya agreed.
It was true. In so many more ways than one.
It took great personal effort to get himself to pull out - he’d stay inside Shane forever, if he could. But he was starting to soften, and he needed to get Shane clean before the endorphins completely wore off and he complained about being messy. Even if he was the one who said no condom.
But first…
He moved Shane forward as he slipped out, urging him to brace himself back on the counter so he could pull one of his cheeks to the side and watch as his cum dripped out of him.
“You’re a fucking perv,” Shane panted.
“Yes,” Ilya agreed simply, letting go of Shane’s ass to give it a quick smack before blanketing his body over his back, kissing the nape of his neck. “Let’s get you cleaned. You are filthy.”
“And whose fault is that?” Shane grumbled, heading - albeit a little wobbly - to turn on the shower.
“It was a team effort,” Ilya said.
Shane rolled his eyes. “You gonna join me?”
“In a moment. Need to wipe your cum off the counter before it dries,” Ilya said, grabbing a washcloth. “We do not want to traumatize the cleaners.”
Shane’s eyes widened, cheeks pinking as he spotted the streaks of his cum down the front of the counter. Ilya heard a quiet, embarrassed “oh my god” muttered under Shane’s breath as the shower started. It seemed he had no further comebacks for Ilya as he left the shower door open in invitation for when Ilya was done.
Ilya joined him as quickly as he could, bringing another clean washcloth in with him so he could help take care of Shane, cleaning between his legs. He relaxed back into Ilya after, standing under the warm spray as their muscles loosened, Ilya pressing kisses to the hinge of his jaw.
He loved having sex with Shane, of course, but he loved this part, too. When he got to just hold him or lather the hotel-issued body wash all over his skin while they both came back to themselves.
Once they were thoroughly clean, he toweled them both dry, then guided Shane toward the large bed in the center of the room. Shane had the tendency to go a little quiet after they played like this in the bedroom, but he always wanted to be held by Ilya afterward. They tangled up on top of the sheets, naked and still a little damp, sharing casual touches and trading a water bottle back and forth as they settled back down from the high of the evening.
Eventually, Ilya rose from the bed to rummage through Shane’s suitcase, tossing him a fresh pair of briefs and a shirt. He also stole a set of clothes for himself to sleep in. Short of Shane physically kicking him out of the room, which he currently looked like he didn’t have the energy to do courtesy of Ilya fucking him senseless, nothing could keep him from sharing a bed with his boyfriend tonight. He didn’t care that it was risky. It would be nearly two weeks before their schedules aligned again, so he was going to take every moment he could get with him.
“This is a bad idea,” Shane murmured sleepily, even as he turned to his side when Ilya joined him in bed, guiding Ilya’s arm over his waist as he spooned up behind Shane.
“Yes, well, we are full of bad ideas,” Ilya replied.
“Earlier…that was not a bad idea,” Shane said. The room was dark, but Ilya could hear the blush in his voice.
“You liked it?” Ilya asked.
He always checked in with Shane after they did something new like this. Even if he seemed like he enjoyed it during, Ilya needed to make sure.
“I did,” Shane confirmed. “It was intense, but it was also like…wow.”
“Like wow,” Ilya parroted. “That is one way to put it.”
“It was hot, okay? Is that better?”
“See,” Ilya said, giving Shane’s pec an affectionate squeeze, “I have always known you like being praised.”
“Yeah, well. You like praising me,” Shane countered.
“I do. And I especially like telling you how pretty you are. Ever since we were teenagers, it has always made you blush.”
“Shut up,” Shane muttered.
“Even in the dark, I can tell you are blushing now,” Ilya goaded.
“Enough. What time do you have to leave tomorrow?” Shane asked.
“Very early. I set my phone alarm already.”
Shane groaned, “Will you make sure I’m up before you leave? I want to say goodbye. We won’t see each other for a while after this.”
“Two weeks,” Ilya confirmed. “And of course, moya lyubov. Sleep well.”