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Shane was loudly blending his night smoothie when his phone lit up with a notification.
He had had a very stressful day: Early running with Hayden, practice in the morning, lunch with his parents and a couple of meetings with some sponsors that his mom scheduled two months ago. He was drained. He couldn't even check his phone to text Ilya in the whole day.
When he got home he just remembered he had to answer some emails for the foundation preps and make dinner.
Whatever
Shane said to himself after parking the car. Knowing really well that once he crossed that door he would be sitting in his kitchen, laptop in table and gmail tab open.
He’d probably just make his protein smoothie. He had no energy to cook and wasn’t very hungry.
After an hour, an alarm on his phone dropped. Protein Smoothie time.
You have alarm for everything but no alarm for getting on your knees? sounded in his head with a Russian accent. He chuckled.
He missed his boyfriend. They haven’t seen each other for two days and he was so eager.
Needed urgently cuddles and really good fucking.
Being on his knees for Ilya was the best he could think of right now. Ilya telling him what to do and obey. Forgetting all the schedules, the meetings, everything. He just needed to be a good boy for him, to not be in charge of his own life for a while.
Ilya would take care.
Suddenly, his phone dinged, almost lost in the noise of the blender, taking him out of his dirty thoughts.
He grabbed it from the charger and woah.
A picture of Ilya in a Gladiator costume filled the screen. Shane had to lean on the kitchen counter. He remembered, Ilya was having a Halloween Party tonight. He wasn’t really jealous that he couldn’t attend. He wasn’t much into costumes, nor being packed into a house full of drunk people, and the smell of alcohol had never been his favorite thing. He knew some of the Centaurs would be there, though, funny and kind people, or so Ilya had said.
He was genuinely happy that someone could be there for him, support him when he couldn’t, someone who could match Ilya’s energy and make sure he had a good time.
They were just two hours apart but their schedules were always so full. It was starting to be annoying- Now that they were official with his family and Hayden, he felt a bit more free, but at the same time he was still feeling in a cage.
Their relationship had the freedom to be, but not the time to enjoy.
Shane was still zooming in at the photo his boyfriend sent. Ilya was standing in front of the mirror, in his bedroom, muscled breastplate in sight, a red cape leaning from his shoulders and a gold leather skirt cut short enough to make Shane’s jaw tighten despite himself. He felt a growing tension in his pants.
Shane wondered if he was wearing anything under that skirt. The thought of asking crossed his mind, but suddenly he decided he’d rather find out for himself. Kneeling.
Shane: Don’t take that costume off
He drank his smoothie as fast as he could and checked the time. It was almost 10, probably the party will still be going until twelve or so. So he had time.
Shane remembered he had practice in Montreal early in the morning, but for the first time in his life, he let himself just be, savor the moment, push a little beyond his usual boundaries. He wanted Ilya, needed him, right now. And he was going to take him.
Why always so needy, Hollander?
He ran to his bedroom to change his clothes to be more comfy while driving.
When he opened the drawers to grab some socks, he found the surprise he had prepared for Ilya but hadn’t had time to give: the buttplug.
Seeing it made his pulse quicken and his briefs start to tighten again.
He held it in his fingers considering if it would be safe to wear it for two hours. He Googled it on his phone. Apparently, it could be worn for long periods of time. Some people even wore it all day.
“Jesus, some people are real perverts” Shane muttered while reading the article on his phone. He lifted his head and met his own reflection in the mirror, dressed only in his briefs and socks, a butt plug dangling from his fingers. He rolled his eyes.
It was not the first time Shane was wearing a buttplug, but it was the first time he was putting it on all by himself. Usually Ilya was the one in charge of that, but since it was a surprise, now he had to manage alone.
He removed his briefs and sat back against the headboard on the bed. Legs spread.
Ilya would be so proud of him if he arrived at his house already open for him. Like a toy ready to be used. All he would have to do was remove the butt plug and replace it with his cock.
“oh my fucking god” shane moaned just at the thought of it. He reached the lube in his nightstand drawer and covered his finger with some of it, then he started massaging his entrance like Ilya had done it many times before.
He was so sensitive, he felt so needy and desperate. Laying in bed trying to put a butt plug inside his ass so his boyfriend could fuck him faster that night. You would say i am a fucking slut.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the mirror on the wall, directly across from the bed. He lifted his gaze and met his own eyes, studying himself closely, admiring what Ilya worshipped every time they were together.
He focused on his lips, wet from his tongue, on his stiff nipples, and on how his cock was already hard enough to ache. His legs were spread so wide that, if Ilya saw him like this, he’d completely lose it, just like that time in Las Vegas. His gaze followed the line of his arms down to his fingers as they brushed his entrance, making room for a finger. Fuck.
Shane sighed at the feeling of the first finger. After a few seconds, he added another.
“Why am I so tight? Jesus” he whispered, as if Ilya could hear him. Then it occurred to him that maybe bringing Jesus into this wasn’t the most appropriate choice.
He opened his fingers inside himself. He couldn’t help leaning his head back against the headboard, eyes closed and a soft gasp escaping him as he pushed them deeper and deeper.
His body tensed, every nerve painfully aware of itself. A slick pool of precum spreading over his stomach reminded Shane that he shouldn’t touch himself, no matter how badly he wanted to.
There was no time for that. Ilya wouldn’t allow it if he saw him like this.
He let his hand fall away, a quiet breath leaving him as the emptiness settled in. His fingers hesitated for a moment before closing around the buttplug resting on the bed. Just holding it was enough to make his pulse jump. When he brought it closer, the chill of it against his entrance made him suck in a sharp breath. He should have warmed it up first. It was cold as fuck.
Easier than he expected he pushed it inside in one go. Shane moaned when all of it was inside. Why wasn't he wearing one of these more often?
It felt weird at first, but was so hot. It felt as if Ilya’s fingers were inside him, the whole time.
Fuck.
That didn't help with his hard cock, messing up his briefs as he was dressing up right on time to go. Shane thought he was not gonna make it 2 hours without coming in his fucking pants.
He grabbed the keys and turned on the engine. He had been to ilya’s place so many times that he didn't need to use google maps.
***
His eyes fixed on the road, he thought about how much he missed him, how much he needed him, and about all the time they had wasted over the years.
Hiding was something they were used to, but that didn’t make it any less unbearable.
The way he wanted to hold him all the time, to kiss him, to look at him openly in front of their friends, the way they did with their wives.
Shane wanted to shout it to the world that Ilya was his, and that he was Ilya’s.
If Ilya had asked him to go to that party and Shane had had the time, it probably wouldn’t have been his favorite plan, but he would have gone. For Ilya. For those blue eyes that made Shane melt at the slightest glance, for that mischievous smile that had him willing to do just about anything. Drive two hours just to see him? Yeah, that too.
Truth was, Shane knew exactly what had set this off. The skirt. That stupid, too-short skirt. Why did his boyfriend have to be so fucking attractive. How the hell had he ended up with someone like that, someone who could undo him this easily.
The road blurred for a second as the image from the mirror crept back in, uninvited. Forty-five minutes ago. His own reflection.
Good boy, Hollander, opening up so well for me.
Shane swallowed and tightened his grip on the wheel.
The bulge in his pants, growing, impossible to ignore. The pressure too. The way his body tightened around the butt plug without warning.
“Fuck” he breathed, barely audible, forcing a slow inhale. Always so tight for me.
No. He had to think of something else. Anything else. Because if he didn’t, he was going to come right there. In his fucking pants. In his fucking car. And then he’d have to deal with the mess later. Clean it up. And that thought alone made him groan in frustration.
He tried to focus on hockey, but all he could think about was that time in Las Vegas. How Ilya had said that ‘Fuck’ while sipping vodka, eyes burning with lust, completely focused on Shane touching himself, showing off exactly like Ilya had asked, like a good boy.
Shane wanted to please him in every way possible. At that moment, he was all Ilya’s. If Ilya had told him to come just by using his fingers, Shane probably would have.
Tell me. Tell me what you need.
“You. I fucking need you asshole” Shane whispered, sinking into the memory.
Shane felt it, the precum in his pants, the metal pressing inside him. He shifted in his seat, trying to ease the sensation, but it only made it worse. A soft groan escaped him as he gripped the wheel a little tighter, eyes on the road.
Thinking he wasn’t being a good boy made his ass tighten even more. The feeling of being on the edge was taking over him. He had to do something. Ilya wouldn’t like knowing that his first time coming with the plug was without him there.
He calculated he had about half an hour left to get there. He glanced at the clock and thought it wasn’t too late yet. He had time.
He pulled the car over to the side of the road, at the start of a small side path. It was night, completely hidden, and nobody would be able to see what he was about to do.
Shane turned off the lights of the car and sat in darkness. He pulled down his pants and grabbed his cock, rock hard. He thought that by the time he got there, he wouldn’t last a minute.
He figured the best way would be to kneel in front of Ilya and avoid letting him touch, trying to manage the inevitable release as best as he could.
He wanted to kneel, in front of Ilya’s dick, already hardening, and take it into his mouth, deep, feeling it at the back of his throat. Ilya would guide him and hold his head steady, he would keep going until his eyes watered. He would let Ilya use him, face-fucking him as much as he wanted. And then, when he had emptied himself in his mouth, he would swallow it. Like the good boy he was. Ilya would probably stroke his head as a reward, like a fucking dog.
His hand was slick with precum. He noticed the plug was still there, keeping a space in his ass until something replaced it. He had stopped the car to try to calm himself, but it was only getting worse.
Summoning strength from who-knows-where, he lowered his hand and gripped the base of his cock, holding it firmly. He felt the tension and the imminent release ease a little. Finally, Shane sighed.
“I just need to fucking calm down, and drive,” he told himself, as if anyone could tell him he was right. He shifted again in his seat, feeling everything settle back into place. The tension hadn’t completely gone, but it was manageable. Finally, he tucked himself away, took a deep breath, and eased the car back onto the road, still aware of the lingering tension, but able to focus on the drive ahead.
***
Shane, still half-hard and with his face flushed, tried to focus for the remaining half hour until he got to Ilya’s. He parked across the street and saw several people in costumes leaving the party. He grabbed his phone from the dashboard; there was a message from Ilya from a little while ago.
Lily: How is your night?
Jane: Party still going?
Lily: No. Everyone is gone.
Shane felt nervous. Maybe Ilya would laugh at him for how stupid all of this had been, driving two hours, with a plug in his ass and his pants slick from just one photo.
Laugh? Ilya would go crazy. Shane thought, remembering exactly who his boyfriend was.
Should he use the key he had? Better not. Ilya might think someone had broken in.
He would get out of the car, walk to the door, ring the bell, and wait. From there on, it would be a problem for Future Shane. But just for today.
He took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself, and finally got out of the car. Fuck it.
***
Ten minutes later, Ilya’s doorbell rang.
Shane was standing on the doorstep in a puffy jacket, looking a little embarrassed.
“I didn’t want to use my key and scare the shit out of you,” he said. “Oh wow. That costume is even better in person.”
Ilya blinked, unable to find words.
Shane let out a shaky breath. “This is probably so stupid. I have to be back in Montreal for a practice tomorrow morning and—”
He didn’t get to finish that sentence, because Ilya was hauling him into the house and kissing him at the same time. He pressed Shane against a wall inside the door and devoured him while Shane ran his hands over Ilya’s mostly bare back. He couldn’t believe he was here. All night he’d been dying inside, wishing he could have the man he loved at his side. Wishing Shane was in his arms, in his lap, in a ridiculous costume, in front of everyone.
“You smell like weed,” Shane said when Ilya finally let him breathe.
“You’d know.”
“I know what weed smells like,” Shane said testily.
Ilya grinned at him. “You’re here.”
“Yeah.” Shane smiled shyly. “Is that okay? You sent that photo and I’ve just been—fuck, I missed you so much.”
Ilya kissed him again, then said, “You want to get fucked by a gladiator, Hollander?”
Shane gazed up at him through his dark lashes. “I put a plug in before I left.”
Holy shit.
With a growl, Ilya began stripping Shane of his puffy jacket, and then all of the rest of his clothes.
“Fucking help me,” Ilya snarled as he tugged at Shane’s track pants.
Shane laughed and pressed his smile into Ilya’s neck as he toed off his sneakers, then stepped out of his pants and underwear. Once Shane was naked, Ilya grabbed his thighs and hitched him up until Shane’s strong legs wrapped around Ilya’s waist. Ilya carried him to the living room like that, kissing him the entire way. He slid a hand down to Shane’s ass, found the base of the plug, and pressed on it.
“Oh fuck,” Shane gasped.
“You drove the whole way here with this in?”
“Uh-huh.”
“That,” Ilya said as he carefully tugged at the toy, “is very slutty.”
“Not as slutty as that costume.” Shane relaxed his legs from around Ilya’s body and stood back. He ran his gaze appreciatively over Ilya. “Jesus.
Ilya smiled. Maybe the costume wasn’t so ridiculous after all. “Worth the drive?”
“Fuck yeah.” Then Shane was back in Ilya’s arms, kissing him with a hand gripping the back of Ilya’s neck.
Ilya played with the toy some more, tapping the base, then pulling it nearly out before slowly pushing it back in. Shane shuddered, then whimpered, then bit Ilya’s shoulder.
“Is it safe even,” Ilya asked, “to wear a plug for so long?”
“Yeah,” Shane said breathlessly. “I Googled it.”
Ilya grinned, imagining it. He was going to tease him some more about it, but Shane cut him off by dropping to his knees.
“Been thinking about this all night,” Shane said, gazing up at him with dark, lust-drunk eyes. Then he flipped the front of Ilya’s skirt up and hauled Ilya’s underwear down. Ilya hadn’t even finished stepping out of them before Shane wrapped his lips around his hard cock.
“Shane,” Ilya breathed. Shane didn’t need any costume pieces to look like a fantasy. He was absolutely beautiful, on his knees for Ilya. He was always so beautiful.
Ilya’s eyes prickled with tears as he watched him, which was weird and alarming. He closed his eyes, hoping Shane hadn’t noticed. Ilya had felt oddly fragile all night, and the wonderful surprise of having Shane here combined with the fervent way his dick was being worshipped was too much.
Enough. Time to take control of himself and this situation. He took a step back, enjoying the way Shane fell forward a bit, chasing his dick, and said, “Did you come here for this, or did you come here to get fucked?”
Shane blinked up at him. “Shit,” he said quietly.
Ilya smiled. “Stand up. Turn around.”
Shane obediently got himself in position, gripping the arm of the sofa, and Ilya grabbed a packet of lube from a discreet little box on the mantel behind him. He’d learned to keep lube in most rooms of the house.
He slicked himself up, then played with the toy in Shane’s ass a bit more, pressing on it, and turning it slowly. Shane moaned and wriggled his hips, then gasped when the toy bumped up against his prostate.
“How did you drive all this way,” Ilya asked, “without coming?”
“It was close,” Shane gritted out. “I had to pull over once and—fuck—readjust.”
Ilya chuckled, and twisted the toy again. “So dangerous. Driving in that condition. Irresponsible.”
“Fucking hurry up,” Shane complained.
Ilya complied by sliding the toy out of him in one steady pull while Shane gasped and arched his back. Ilya tossed the toy on the floor and lined himself up. “Is this what you came here for?”
“Yes. Come on.”
Ilya pushed into him, gripping Shane’s hips tightly to hold him steady. Shane’s body welcomed him, already loose and open. It felt like heaven.
Shane cried out, and Ilya started a steady rhythm, thrusting into Shane so hard the couch slid a few inches across the floor. The room that had so recently been full of people and music and drunken laughter was now filled only with the slap of Ilya pounding into Shane, his own rough breathing, and Shane’s moans of pleasure.
“Fucking love you so much,” Shane panted. “Needed this.”
Ilya grunted, and planted a hand between Shane’s shoulder blades, pushing him down until his arms buckled and his chest rested on the arm of the couch.”
“Holy—” Shane gasped. “That’s perfect. Oh my god. Don’t stop.”
Ilya didn’t want to stop, but he could feel his orgasm building already. He reached for Shane’s cock, wrapping his hand around it, and started stroking.
“Wait,” Shane gritted out. “Wanna see you.”
Ilya didn’t argue. He pulled out and flipped Shane over, then tilted him back until he fell onto the couch cushions with his ass resting on the arm. Ilya grabbed his thighs, pulled him up and toward him, and sank back into him.
“Harder,” Shane demanded. “Want to feel this for days.”
Ilya grunted, and began snapping his hips so vigorously that he was almost worried he was hurting Shane. Except Shane was smiling like he’d never felt anything so wonderful.
“Ilya,” he panted. “So perfect. Love this.”
“Make yourself come,” Ilya ordered, somewhat frantically. “Now.”
Shane stoked himself furiously, his gaze fixed on Ilya’s face. His eyes were huge and shiny and Ilya wanted to dive into them. He wanted to stay buried in Shane forever, making him come again and again and again.
“I’m coming. Holy fuck. Ilya, I’m—” Shane’s words dissolved into a groan as he spurted all over his own stomach.
“Yes,” Ilya said quietly. “So beautiful.”
It only took a few more thrusts before he was emptying himself into Shane, bracing himself with one hand on the back corner of the couch.
“Wow,” Shane rasped.
A weird giggle erupted out of Ilya. He covered his mouth quickly.
Shane grinned. “Oh my god. What was that?”
“Nothing. I don’t know.” Ilya distracted himself by carefully pulling out of Shane.
Shane slowly got to his feet, placing a hand on Ilya’s shoulder for balance. “Gotta say, that was totally worth the drive.”
“With a plug in your butt,” Ilya reminded him. His insides felt like they were vibrating, and he realized his hand was shaking.
“I just really needed to see you,” Shane said seriously.
Ilya nodded, then wrapped him in a tight hug. His eyes were burning with tears again, which was embarrassing and inappropriate after amazing sex.
“Thank you,” he said into Shane’s hair. It was so unlike Shane to be impulsive like this. To drive to Ottawa in the middle of the night for some quick sex.