Chapter Text
Shane pulled his car into the driveway of Ilya’s—no, their—Ottawa house.
“Do you maybe wanna take Anya for a walk and I’ll sort us out with some dinner?” he asked. Anya perked up in the back of his car at the word walk.
“Sounds good,” said Ilya. “I think I have pasta sauce in the bottom left cupboard. You know which one? Or are you doing your disgusting food diet again this season?”
“No, I’m not doing that again.” Shane shook his head. “And pasta is in the drawer next to it, right?”
“Yes.”
Even though Shane had no intention of going back to the obsessive diet he got into when he was still playing for Montreal, pasta and jarred sauce still wouldn’t be his first choice for dinner. But he was tired tonight.
They had just spent a wonderful week at the cottage, swimming in the cooling lake, playing catch with Anya in the garden, and making love whenever they wanted. But cleaning the house, packing up everything to leave (one dog should not need so much stuff), and then driving to Ottawa had left him feeling exhausted.
And tomorrow would be his first day of training as an Ottawa Centaur.
“Do you think it’s gonna be weird tomorrow?” Shane asked later as he was chasing the last piece of pasta on his plate.
“What’s gonna be weird?”
“You being my teammate and captain,” Shane explained. “And husband?”
“You mean that’s not what they do in other NHL teams?” Ilya raised his eyebrows.
“Don’t mock me,” said Shane. “I’m being serious. What if it turns out I play like shit when I don’t play against you? What if the team isn’t comfortable with me playing with them? What if—”
“You’re tired,” said Ilya, “makes you overthink stuff. Will be fine.” He stood up and leaned in to give Shane a quick kiss on the mouth. “Now go take a shower. I will do the dishes.”
“Okay.” Shane sighed. “What time do we leave tomorrow for practice?”
“I usually leave around eight thirty,” said Ilya. “Want to drive together?”
Shane nodded. “Yes. Eight thirty then.”
By the time Ilya was done with the dishes and had showered too, Shane was fast asleep in their bed.
***
“It was totally weird,” Shane said the next day. They had just returned from their first practice together and were on a short walk around the block with Anya. “I mean… Coach is great.”
“He is.”
“And everyone on the team was so welcoming.”
“They were.”
“And Harris wants me to do some kind of video for Instagram.”
“Is his job.”
“But—” Shane didn’t know how to continue. What was it exactly that made today’s training so different from the ones he was used to in Montreal? He could not put his finger on it.
“But what?” Ilya suddenly stopped. “Oh, so it’s me? Was I weird?” he teased.
“No!” Shane exclaimed. “You did nothing wrong.” In two quick steps he turned to face Ilya and grabbed him by the waist. “Maybe, maybe it’s just gonna take me a while to get used to all this. New place, new team, you know?”
“Maybe,” said Ilya and gave him a peck on his forehead before leaning his own forehead against Shane’s. “Movie tonight?”
“A movie sounds nice.”
Later that evening they were cuddled up on the sofa, watching a movie their teammate Wyatt had recommended. Shane was resting his head against Ilya’s chest, softly brushing his fingertips against Ilya’s t-shirt. Ilya had his right hand around Shane’s back and was occasionally stroking his side, sometimes reaching lower to Shane’s hip and back to his ass.
If only Shane’s eyelids weren’t so heavy right now. At thirty years old, he didn’t consider himself old. But he certainly didn’t have the energy he used to have back when he was in his early twenties.
***
Ilya woke up with an erection. Back when they were long distance, he would masturbate at least once a day. But with Shane around, he never felt the need. Ilya found sex with Shane to be much more fun.
If it wasn’t too late, maybe they could manage a quick morning session before leaving for practice, he thought. But when he turned towards Shane’s half of the bed, he found it empty.
He grunted, got out of bed, and made his way downstairs. He found Shane sitting at the kitchen table, just finishing a plate of scrambled eggs. His hair was still messed up from sleep but he was dressed up to go. Ilya always found him very cute like that.
He hugged Shane from behind. “Good morning,” he murmured into his ear.
“Morning,” said Shane and turned to kiss him on the lips. “I made you coffee. But maybe I should have made it into a to-go mug for you to drink on the way to practice.”
Was it that late? Ilya didn’t check the time when he woke up. He glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. Damn, so much for the morning sex.
“To-go mug sounds perfect,” said Ilya. “Do you think you could—”
“Yeah, go get dressed.” Shane stood up from his seat. “I’ll meet you in the garage in ten?”
“Okay.”
Ilya hurried to brush his teeth and change from his pajamas. On his way to the car, he remembered to grab a protein bar from his pantry. He didn’t always run late but he kept a stash of them for when he did. And he doubted Shane would want to make a stop at McDonald’s for breakfast.
When he sat down in the passenger seat of Shane’s car, Shane handed him his mug. “Here.”
“Thank you,” said Ilya.
“No worries,” said Shane as he started the car. “I gave Anya some kibble, too. Half of the measuring cup that’s there with it, right?”
“I give her a full one now,” said Ilya. “But it's alright. I will give her more in the evening.”
***
Ilya had Shane pinned against the kitchen counter. They had just returned from walking Anya after their practice and they came to cook dinner together. But now the onion lay on the cutting board, unpeeled and uncut, and they were slowly kissing each other.
Ilya felt Shane’s hardening cock against his thigh. His own was in a similar state. But he didn’t feel like rushing anything, so he just continued kissing Shane. He enjoyed the softness of his lips and the wetness of their tongues, occasionally brushing against each other.
He was just about to put his hands under Shane’s shirt when a phone rang.
Ilya pulled away. “Is yours, you wan to—”
Shane nodded and slipped out from where he was standing between Ilya and the kitchen counter and made his way to the kitchen table where he had left his phone.
“It’s mom,” Shane said, “I’m just gonna—” he gestured towards the phone.
Ilya shrugged in agreement and Shane picked up the phone. “Hi, mom, how are you?”
Ilya absently adjusted his pants. He hoped the phone call wouldn't take too long and they could get back to what they were doing. Continue here in the kitchen for a bit and then probably take it into the bedroom. And they would worry about dinner later.
His hopes turned out to be futile as he heard Shane say into the phone: “No, we haven’t had dinner yet,” and, “Made too much casserole, huh?” and finally, “Yeah, I think we could come over for a bit tonight.”
Shane glanced at Ilya knowing he was listening to his phone call. Ilya felt like he had no other choice than to nod, though he wasn’t terribly upset about it. He liked Shane’s parents a lot and they haven’t seen them since they came back from the cottage.
They ended up spending an enjoyable evening with Shane’s parents at their own house in Ottawa. They talked about the summer vacations they’d just enjoyed, about Shane’s first days training as an Ottawa Centaur, and their upcoming games. The first one was quickly approaching and Shane’s parents were excited to come and see the game.
They returned home late and went directly to sleep, both of their bellies stuffed with delicious food.
***
On Wednesday evening, Shane was home alone. Ilya had gone to a therapy session so it was up to Shane to take Anya for a walk. Shane had never done that alone before but it went surprisingly fine. Now Anya was lying in her spot in the living room, chewing on one of her toys, and Shane was reading a book on the couch.
Well, he was trying to read a book. In all honesty, his mind was elsewhere.
Being on the same team with Ilya meant sharing a locker room. Every time they were changing, Shane was trying his hardest to stay respectful, to not make anyone in the room uncomfortable because of a wrong look or—god forbid—an actual touch. They were husbands and their relationship wasn’t a secret anymore and everyone on the Centaurs team was totally cool with that.
But at practice, Shane still tried to pretend Ilya was just another teammate. He took it as far as getting dressed on the opposite side of the locker room and going to the shower only once Ilya was done there.
Today, that didn’t quite work out for him. Ilya got held up on the ice for a bit talking to Coach Wiebe and Shane felt silly stalling in the locker room like he did the two days before. So he went to shower and Ilya joined him only moments later. And no-one else was there.
“Do you remember the first time we showered together?” Ilya had asked, grinning.
Shane remembered that fateful promo-shoot back when they were still rookies. He remembered how entranced he was by Ilya’s body. How shamelessly forward Ilya had been. Shane remembered. And so did his cock, apparently.
But he wasn’t eighteen anymore and this time the chance that someone would walk in was far from nonexistent. So he told Ilya off, turned away, and switched his water to cold to calm himself down.
That was hours ago at practice. Now he was home and Ilya was going to come back from therapy any moment now. Shane looked at his watch.
Any moment now. And then he would take Ilya to their bedroom and do all the things they couldn't have in the communal shower.
In the three days since they came back from the cottage, he and Ilya had not had sex. Shane wasn’t sure how that happened, usually they didn't go more than a day without some kind of sex when they were together. So today, after Ilya’s little teasing in the team showers, Shane needed Ilya’s hands on himself. He wanted Ilya’s cock. First in his mouth and then in his hole, that’s where Shane liked it the most.
The front door clicked a couple minutes later. Shane put away the book he wasn’t reading and headed for the door, only a few steps behind Anya.
“Hello. Good girl,” Ilya was petting Anya on the floor. The dog couldn’t be happier but Ilya sounded… tired.
“Hi,” said Shane and waited for Ilya to get up before he stepped in to kiss him.
Ilya gave him a quick kiss. “Hi.”
Shane leaned in to kiss him harder, completely disregarding the smell of cigarettes from Ilya’s mouth. But Ilya turned away. Shane put one of his hands on Ilya’s waist, trying to pull him closer.
“How was it?” Shane asked.
Ilya shook his head. “Not great. I think I would like to be alone tonight.”
“Anything you need,” said Shane, his mood suddenly very different.
“We talked about a lot today,” Ilya explained.
Shane nodded. Ilya didn’t need to tell him more. Therapy was overall helping Ilya a lot but sometimes it left him completely drained, especially when they talked about his family in Russia. Today was probably one of those days.
“Do you think you’ll be okay tomorrow to talk about the charity a little?” Shane asked. “My mom sent me some stuff we should look at.”
“Mm hmm,” Ilya agreed.
Shane gave him one last kiss on the cheek. “Okay, tomorrow then.” Hopefully not just the talking, he added in his mind but didn’t say out loud.
***
On Friday, early in the morning, while Ilya was still fast asleep, Shane masturbated alone in the shower. He needed to. It had been too fucking long.
And he didn’t quite understand why.