Archive of Our Own

SHHH

For all that Shane had complained that Scott Hunter was in the room next door after the All-Star game, he certainly wasn’t making any real effort to keep quiet. 

If the room layouts were how Ilya thought, then he was fairly certain that Hunter’s bed backed directly up to the wall that he and Shane were practically rammed up against right now, but Shane continued to moan Ilya's last name at not all that far from the top of his voice, and Ilya was sure it was not going to be long before Hunter was probably banging on the wall telling them to be quiet because he was old and needed sleep. 

It wasn’t too loud for Ilya because honestly, he liked to hear Shane, and he might have joked that he would like Scott to listen, but Ilya knew that Shane would be mortified if Scott actually did hear them.

Ilya gave another lap at the head of Shane’s cock and Shane let out another much too loud groan. Okay he had to do something. He stopped what he was doing, rose up on his knees so that he could reach better.

“Hey, Hollander. You need to be quiet,” and he placed his palm over Shane’s mouth to sssh him.

Shane’s eyes had been closed but they snapped open now, looking right into Ilya’s. He nodded.

Ilya gave a quick nod back, then started to remove his hand, but Shane grabbed his wrist to hold him in place.

Ilya pressed a bit harder, thumb pushing into Shane’s chin, and he raised his eyebrows in a question, partly a oh, really? You like this? But also just to confirm Shane was still okay with what they were doing.

Shane didn’t take his eyes from Ilya’s but moved his own hand down between them and began to stroke himself. A small moan against Ilya’s palm made Ilya look down. He batted Shane’s hand away.

Ilya couldn’t keep his hand over Shane’s mouth and keep sucking his cock so he had to shift positions until he was kneeling next to Shane instead. That way he could take him back in his mouth and still keep Shane quiet - for the most part, aside from the occasional whimper - under his hand.

This had the added benefit that Shane could now wrap his hand around Ilya’s cock, using the slick of his pre-come to jerk him messily at the same time, and this was how they came, Ilya hard into Shane’s hand, palm clamping tight over Shane’s mouth as did so, which made Shane spill down his throat, with his head tipped back, free hand clasped around Ilya’s wrist.

~~~~~~

They didn’t really talk about that part afterwards. Too preoccupied with texting back and forth after that, and it had never really been necessary for Shane to be quiet again, not once they finally made it to their own places to fuck, but Ilya never really forgot about it.

He tucked the thought of it quietly away in the back of his mind, in his little storage of Shane memories. 

Then one day, a literal decade later, after afternoon practice in the Centaurs locker room after all of their other teammates had gone home, it came back to him out of nowhere. 

He and Shane were both out of their gear and down to their athletic undershirts and shorts. As they were the only two left, in the locker room Shane had brought his things over to Ilya’s stall to get changed and he was now sitting on the bench. Ilya was standing astride Shane’s legs, reaching up to put his skates into his locker above Shane’s head when the memory was suddenly back in his brain.

He looked down at Shane and said, “Sweetheart, do you remember years ago at our first All-Star game?”

Shane looked up at him.

“Oh, you mean the time when I broke your record about 10 seconds after you made it?” 

“Hmm,” Ilya looked thoughtful, “No, I  don’t remember that part.” Then he sat down, straddling Shane’s lap, "But do you remember after, in the hotel when you were worried about Scott Hunter being in the room next to us?

Shane’s hands immediately went to Ilya’s waist to hold him there, “I seem to recall you kept me waiting in the hallway for a long time.”

"Mm-hmm," Ilya leaned in and kissed him, just once, licked into Shane’s open mouth, “And?”

"Uh..." Ilya's hand was cupping his chin now, eyes gazing into his, holding his attention, but his other hand was sliding into Shane's hair and Shane was getting distracted.

"Oh! Wasn't that the night we started to text each other?"

"Yes. Good. But that is not what I am thinking of," Ilya pulled gently on Shane's hair, tilting his head back, kissing his neck, nipping gently at the skin. "Before that."

“Um, well it’s kind of hard to cast my mind back with you sitting in my lap doing this to me,” Shane gasped out, chasing Ilya's mouth as he pulled back.

"Nothing else is coming back to you?" Ilya scooted closer, pressing both of their now extremely hard cocks together.

"Ah fuck, Ilya. It was years ago," Shane grabbed Ilya's ass, pulling him even closer., "No! I don't remember!"

“Let me remind you then,” Ilya said and slipped his hand over Shane’s mouth.

SWEET

The first time Ilya noticed anything, he had answered Shane’s FaceTime call but was still scarfing down a Mars bar. “Sorry, I just need some energy before we start. I haven’t eaten anything since lunchtime.” He peeled the wrapper and put almost the whole thing in his mouth like he was deepthroating it.

“Shane?” He said a few moments later when he’d stopped chewing and realised he hadn’t had a response.

For a second Ilya thought Shane’s screen had frozen, but then Shane appeared to shake something off and they were back on track. 

“Everything okay?” He asked.

“Yep, all good.” Shane answered and took his top off.

~~~~~~

The second time Ilya noticed it, Shane was sitting across from Ilya at his kitchen counter and Ilya was being greedy with a bag of Maltesers. He was basically just tipping them straight from the bag into his mouth when one fell free and rolled across the counter, coming to rest by Shane’s arm.

Ilya made a beckoning motion with his hand for Shane to pass the stray chocolate back. Shane picked it up, leaned right over the counter and held it up to Ilya’s mouth.

Ilya opened his lips and when Shane put the Malteser in, he rolled it into his cheek with his tongue, then proceeded to kiss Shane’s fingertips. 

Shane closed his eyes for a moment and made the softest of hums. When he opened his eyes again, Ilya abandoned the chocolate and took Shane to bed.

~~~~~~

The next time it happened, Shane had come into the kitchen to find Ilya taking a KitKat out of the fridge.

“Since when do you keep your chocolate in the fridge?” Shane was frowning at him, puzzled.

“Only KitKats” Ilya said, “I like to keep them cold, because then,” Ilya took the two fingers of his KitKat, “they get... hard,” he met Shane’s gaze as he broke them apart with a crisp snap.

Shane blinked.

“Also it takes longer for the chocolate to melt.” Ilya then proceeded to put one of the fingers in his mouth and to suck the chocolate off.

Shane’s eyes were laser-focused on Ilya’s mouth and he absentmindedly adjusted himself.

Ilya could say that he wasn’t trying to be sexy, that this was just how he ate a KitKat, but now he was starting to see a pattern in what this was doing to Shane, so he couldn’t say for sure that he wasn’t putting on a bit of a show. 

He finished the first finger and went to do the same to the second only to find it had started to melt where he had been holding it.

“Damn.” He said, popping the rest of the biscuit into his mouth then proceeding to lick the chocolate from his own finger, walking from behind the counter to Shane. 

“Are you sure you don’t want any?” He asked, holding out his hand.

“You know I don’t eat chocolate, Ilya.” Shane looked up at him, pupils huge, sounding extremely flustered. 

But when Ilya leaned in to kiss him, palming Shane’s erection with his non-chocolatey hand at the same time, he didn’t miss the way Shane’s tongue was doing a little sweep inside his mouth either. Doesn’t eat chocolate except from my mouth. Okay then.

~~~~~~

Then there was the time when Ilya definitely realised that this was a bit of a thing Shane had, not that he was just missing the taste of chocolate on his boring diet.

Shane had arranged to FaceTime Ilya from his hotel, after Montreal had played away in Philadelphia. Ottawa didn’t have a game until the following night so Ilya had watched the game live. He loved getting to watch Shane play and the Metros had beaten the Flyers 5-2, Shane scoring 2 of the goals and getting 2 assists, so Ilya knew he’d be in a great mood.

He stripped all his clothes off, set up his iPad on his tripod, and got ready for the call. He was already half hard in anticipation. 

When Shane rang, Ilya answered with his face right by the screen, then backed away from the camera so that Shane could see he was ready.

“Oh fuck, okay hold on, let me catch up.” Shane said, taking off pants quickly.

“No rush,” Ilya replied, sitting back in his chair. He leaned down to pick up the jar of Nutella and the spoon that was next to it.

He dipped the spoon into the jar and then brought it up to his lips, tongue reaching out to accept it, but not closing his mouth all the way around it, just lapping at the spread.

He was gratified to see Shane pause for a second as he was about to take his top over his head. Then he took it all the way off and Ilya was just very happy to see his boyfriend’s lovely body.

Ilya said, “Come on, everything off, I want to see you.” He licked the spoon clean then put it back into the jar for more. Shane was probably going to go mad that he’d just put a dirty spoon back in the jar, but he’d deal with that later.

“What are you doing?” asked Shane, sounding a little exasperated.

“Just a snack,” Ilya tried to sound nonchalant. “Why? Did you wish you could have some?”

“No,” snorted Shane.

But when Ilya made to put the jar down, Shane said, “wait!”

Ilya paused, half way to the floor. “What is it?”

“You can keep that. I like watching you eat it.” 

Ilya smiled, “Oh really, Hollander? It is turning you on?”

Shane shuffled back a bit on his bed so that Ilya could see him completely, see how hard he was. “What do you think?”

“Oh.” Ilya dragged his chair closer to the screen so Shane could see him more clearly, “well if watching me is going to turn you on, I want to watch you watch me.”

He dipped the spoon in the Nutella again and this time trailed it over his bottom lip, leaving chocolate spread across it, then slowly he alternated between licking at it and biting his lower lip into his mouth to get it off, up while his eyes were fixed on Shane on the screen, who now had one hand stroking his hard cock while the other roamed across his chest.

He took another spoonful of the Nutella, turned the spoon over and put it into his mouth  before pulling it slowly back out from between his lips. Once it was out he made a purposeful ‘pop’ with his lips. Shane was leaning forward now and Ilya was torn between trying to keep eye contact but also watching his hand moving faster over his cock, slick with pre-come and lube.

Ilya put the spoon down and used his finger this time, running it around the rim of the jar scooping up the chocolate as he went, then he leaned as close as he could to the camera while keeping himself in focus and lasciviously sucked his finger into his mouth. 

“Fuuuuck, Ilya” he heard Shane grit out, “I’m so fucking close.”

Ilya chuckled to himself. That hadn’t taken long.

“I want to see, Shane. Show me.” Just a few strokes later he watched as Shane came all over himself, biting down on his fist so he didn’t make too much noise in his hotel room.

“That was so hot.” Ilya said, picking up his iPad.

“I wish you were here.” Shane said.

“Me too.” Ilya replied.

“Okay your turn now,” Shane said and Ilya returned the favour.

SPANK

Ilya is used to it by now. Shane is not. It’s not something they ever did at Montreal but Ottawa are a much more fun loving, easy-going team and a smack on the butt after a good play, a particularly witty chirp or a great goal is part of the Centaurs repertoire. And Ilya is probably - hopefully - the only person that would notice the way Shane momentarily freezes whenever one of his teammates gives him a thwack on the butt with a heavy gloved hand or stick in favour of a fist bump.

So the next time Shane scores a goal, Ilya watches from the bench as his line mates swoop in to hug him and last man into the huddle, Tanner Dillon, who can’t quite reach around the three other men, gives Shane a big pat on the shoulder and then, as Shane moves off for his skate-by of the bench, gives his butt a hefty thwack with his stick. Ilya’s fist is out like everyone else for Shane to bump as he goes by, but he’s actually paying close attention to Shane’s face and oh yeah. He’d know that look anywhere.

He knows what they’re doing tonight after the game.

~~~~~~

They are at home later, relaxing on the couch, Shane lying between Ilya's outstretched legs, when Ilya brings it up. 

“Great game tonight, moya lyubovmy love,” he says, stroking his fingers through Shane’s hair where his head is resting in Ilya’s lap. 

Shane is scrolling though the game stats on his phone as usual, but he reaches to squeeze Ilya’s thigh in acknowledgment, “Mm-hmm you too.”

“So, I noticed something. After your last goal.” Ilya continues, “when the guys came to celebrate with you.”

Shane is still scrolling, not really focusing on what Ilya is saying, “Uh huh?”

“And Dillon smacked your ass with his stick.” Ilya flicks the side of Shane’s neck to illustrate smacked.

Shane lowers his phone and Ilya feels him tense just a little.

“I saw the look on your face. I know that look on your face.” Ilya goes on, “It’s the look you keep just for me.”

Shane sits up, putting his phone on the table next to the couch and then swivels to face Ilya. Ilya can see he is blushing even in the low light of their living room. 

“Yeah so what’s with all the butt slaps with you guys? We never did that at Mon-” he stops himself from mentioning their name, “at the other team.”

A slow smile spreads across Ilya’s face. “Is okay to say you like it, Shane.”

“I don’t.. I. It’s just different. I don’t like it.”

“Oh well, that is a shame, I thought we might try something.” Ilya pulls his leg back from around Shane and gets up.

“Wait, what do you mean, try something? Try what?” Shane asks, not nearly as nonchalantly as he probably hoped.

“Well, since you seemed to like it, I thought I might try spanking you,” says Ilya plainly, “but apparently I was wrong.” 

He grins as he walks towards the kitchen. He is pretty certain he absolutely isn’t wrong but he will wait for Shane to come and tell him. 

It takes less than a minute. 

“Yep. Yes I’d like to try that.” 

Ilya turns to face him, “I thought so.”

Shane’s eyes look completely black. “So?”

“So,” Ilya eyes him thoughtfully, “take down your pants and bend over the couch for me.”

Ilya knows that Shane loves direction, especially after a game when he is done with being in charge. He watches Shane do exactly as he’d asked, joggers around his ankles, underwear still on, leaning forward over the couch and bracing himself on his arms, muscles tensing.

Ilya approaches him, smooths his hands over Shane’s butt cheeks, “Such a great ass. I love it so much.”

Shane wiggles it a little, playfully, but Ilya puts his other hand on the small of Shane’s back, “Ah no. You have to keep still for me.”

Shane stops moving instantly.

“Good, good. Tell me if anything does not feel okay please.” Ilya says before bringing his right hand down with a thwack on Shane’s right buttock. 

Shane jolts a little, but doesn’t say anything. Ilya delivers another slap to the other side. Shane’s hand comes up, reaching around behind himself. 

Ilya immediately stops, worrying it isn't what he wanted after all. “You want me to stop?” he asks, but then realises that Shane is pushing at the top of his underwear, trying to get it down. “Oh!

Ilya steps back slightly, pulling Shane’s underpants all the way down, but not off so they sit pooled with his pants around his ankles and then, he folds himself over Shane’s back, whispers, “you’re sure is okay?” by his ear.

Shane nods, “yes, yes. Keep going.”

Ilya moves back into position, and slaps Shane’s right buttock again, but a bit more tentatively as this was bare skin.

“You can do it harder,” Shane says, his voice muffled where his head is leant forward towards his chest.

Ilya leans to the side and spares a quick glance at Shane’s cock then, where it is pressed against the back of the couch. It is very hard already and, typical Shane, there is pre-come already pooling at the tip and smearing against the leather.

Ilya licks his lips, and then slaps again. Harder this time. He slaps one side then the other, not too fast, the sound reminding him of a really good slap shot which is going to be difficult when they're back on the ice at the weekend. Shane is making some incredible noises each time Ilya's hand makes contact, not too different to the ones he makes when Ilya fucks him really hard, which means he knows Shane is really letting go. His skin is reddening now and Ilya is wondering how that might look when they have to shower at the arena too. Will all their teammates know what they've been up to?    

After only about 11 smacks in total, Shane comes. He's not noisy about it, just a big inhale followed by a really long, shuddering breath that makes Ilya’s mind reel, that he is witnessing something so incredible, and that somehow he is still fully dressed and hasn’t touched any other part of Shane’s body at all.

Shane's legs start to wobble a bit and Ilya holds him, "Okay. Back on the couch." He guides Shane back to the couch, takes off his pants and underwear all the way finally, and pulls the blanket off the back of the couch to lay over him.

"I will be right  back."

He doesn't want to leave Shane after this, but also he knows he needs to get something onto that red skin as soon as possible and he has aloe vera lotion that Doctor Lisa gave them after Shane got a bad sunburn last summer, so he almost sprints to get that. 

Shane is curled on his side under the blanket, facing the back of the couch, looking very content. Ilya doesn't really need him to move. He lifts the blanket, pumps some of the the lotion into his hands and gently smooths some over where his hands had just been. 

Shane hisses a bit at first, but soon relaxes at Ilya's touch.

"Once I've rubbed this in, I am going to come and cuddle you." Ilya says and Shane hums happily.

The lotion sorted, Ilya strips down to his underwear and climbs over Shane on to the couch. Shane turns over so they are spooning, Ilya nestles in, intertwines their legs and then puts a tight arm around him, partly so he doesn't fall off, but also because he just wants to be as close to Shane as possible after this. He kisses every spare inch of skin he can reach.

"You're still hard." Shane notes, pushing his ass gently back against Ilya's erection.

"Yes, because that was extremely hot, Shane," Ilya grins against the back of his neck and drops a kiss there. "You can thank me later."

"Mmm thank you." Shane murmurs

"You are very welcome, but that doesn't count." Ilya wraps his arms tight around Shane and pulls the blanket over them both. 

After a quiet moment he suddenly says,

"Okay I am thinking. We cannot have you getting turned on like that in games if someone is giving you another butt smack. That will just make me turned on too and that is no good."

With the hand not around Shane, he reaches for his phone where it sits next to Shane's on the table. He holds it in front of them both, reluctantly letting go for a moment as he sends a message into the Centaurs group chat.

"Oh my god, ILYA! It’s almost midnight!" Shane reads the texts as he types them, "You don’t think they’re going to wonder why you're just sending that now?"

Ilya sees the responses start to come in, but turns off his phone screen and puts it back on the table. "Let them wonder." he says, and wraps Shane back up in his arms.

SWEETHEART

Ilya has been teaching Shane Russian for a little while now and Shane loves how proud and soft Ilya gets whenever he practices at home. 

However, Shane has also noticed that if ever he says something in Russian outside of the house, particularly in public, especially at the rink in front of their teammates, it had a different effect on Ilya altogether, and so he had been doing a little… testing. 

The first time Ilya had this particular reaction, when Shane had first called him any kind of term of endearment where anyone else was around to hear it, Shane hadn’t really been paying attention to what was happening.

Shane, Troy and Ilya had been doing a mini photoshoot with Harris for the team’s social media and a couple of days afterwards, Harris had asked them all just to pop back into his office to review the pictures before he posted them to the team account. Then he’d just reminded all three of them to repost them to their own accounts.

Shane knew he would probably forget to, if he didn’t do it right away - he still wasn’t great at keeping up with his Instagram account - so he had gotten his phone out to do it before they had even left Harris’ office.

Ilya had already left and had doubled back for him, “Do you want me to wait, Shane?”

“No it’s okay, возлюбленныйsweetheart,” Shane said without even looking up from his phone.

There was the sound of a chair scraping abruptly behind him. Shane stopped what he was doing and looked up. Ilya was staring at him. “What?” 

He looked around behind him. Troy and Harris were also staring.

“Was that Russian, Shane?” Harris asked, “Awww what did you say?”

“Uh-” Shane started.

Troy cut him off, “Uh yeah. I don’t think we want to know.” 

Ilya turned on his heel and strode out of the room.

“What? It’s probably something dirty, knowing these two.” Troy said, shrugging.

Harris glared at Troy and gave him a gentle whack on the arm.

 “No it was not dirty!” Shane insisted, and hopped off the desk where he had been perched, to follow Ilya.

He had barely made it around the corner when he found himself suddenly crowded up against the wall, Ilya pushing his face into Shane’s neck, practically growling against his skin.

"Знаешь, что ты со мной делаешь? Я так тебя хочуDo you know what you do to me? I want you so much.” Ilya murmured.

“Um…”  Shane was quickly losing coherent thought, “Wait, is this because I just said lub-“

“Jesus, don’t say it again” Ilya pressing his extremely evident erection against Shane’s hip.

“Oh fuck!” Shane grabbed at Ilya’s arms, not sure if he was trying to push him away or pull him closer, “okay we can’t do this in the hallway.”

“Then you’d better take me home,” Ilya said, snatching his hand and pulling him away.

Shane did.

~~~~~~

Ilya was fuming. The Centaurs had just lost their game 5-4 to Edmonton at the literal last minute because the ref had given him a bullshit roughing penalty with less than 2 minutes left in the game, while the Drillers were already in possession.

They’d pulled their netminder, got a sixth man on the ice, totally swarmed Hazy while everyone was still seething about it, and snuck the puck through in the muddle, giving them the game. 

This instead of taking it into overtime, so the Centaurs would at least get the one point they deserved after coming back from 4-1 down in the second period.

“Hey Roz, It’s not your fault,” Bood said, as they got to the locker room, “this whole arena knows that was no penalty. Fucking ridiculous.” He gave Ilya a conciliatory punch on the shoulder. “And Hazy, don’t you blame yourself either.” 

“Oh I’m not, I’m absolutely blaming the ref,” Wyatt said as pulled off his blocker. “Roughing my ass.” 

“There’s nothing we can do about it now,” Shane said, starting to get undressed, “We’ll just have to beat them at the weekend.”

The team all headed for the showers, but Shane was keeping an eye on Ilya who was sitting in his stall, glowering and hadn’t even made a move to take his gear off yet.

“Ilya, it was just a bullshit call. This wasn’t even an important game,” Shane pulled Ilya to standing, “Come on, let’s go in the shower please, then we can go home.”

Shane went to the showers and Ilya followed not long after. He got under the water, rowdy teammates on one side of him, Shane on the other, and Shane watched his shoulders relax a bit underneath the hot water. 

After a minute Shane said, quite loudly, “Feel better котикkitten?” 

Ilya whipped his head around, eyebrows up, water flying from his hair. “Котик?!”.

Shane grinned at him, “Yep. That’s you, you’re my soft котик. That’s how everyone knows you would never cause any trouble.”

“Oh you are in trouble, when we get home,” Ilya said, then put his face back under the spray, turning his body fully to face away from the remaining teammates and towards Shane while he washed himself, and taking just a little longer than necessary to clean his cock, which was now half hard.

The smile was wiped off Shane’s face as this brought back vivid memories of the first locker room shower he’d ever taken with Ilya, when he was so turned on he could barely keep it together. All he had to do right now was not jump his fiance’s bones in front of the whole team. There was no way Ilya wasn’t thinking about that too, the way he was eye-fucking Shane.

“Later,” he mouthed at Ilya.

“Обещаешь?” Ilya asked out loud, water running off his chin.

Shane knew this one - do you promise? He nodded, and his grin was back.

The moment was interrupted by Troy shouting “Okay everyone out of the showers. They’re flirting in Russian again.” 

Ilya tilted his back and called “Fuck off, Barrett!”

~~~~~~

Tonight had been their first away game of the new season against the Admirals since they’d been married, and now Shane is finally getting to go to The Kingfisher with Ilya. 

He is actually quite nervous. Ilya has talked about this place a lot since he made the  move to Ottawa, and Shane has always really wanted to go, but obviously hadn’t had the opportunity or, quite honestly, the bravery. But now he could be here with Ilya and all of their friends.

“Do I look okay?” He asks, looking at his reflection in the full length mirror. He has on dark jeans and charcoal grey tee fitted t-shirt.

Ilya looks across the room, “cахарокsugar you could be wearing just a paper napkin and still look better than okay.” Then he comes over, standing behind Shane, looking over his shoulder in the mirror for a few moments, as if imagining him in just the paper napkin… 

“Ilya!!” Shane laughs, “That didn’t answer my question!”

“Yes! You look fucking incredible,” Ilya moves in front of him and hooks a finger into the top of Shane’s jeans, pulling him closer, “You look like I want to eat you,” he went on, not quite getting the phrase right, but making it sound incredibly hot all the same. 

“I’m… I d-don’t think we have time for that.” Shane stutters out as Ilya pushes their bodies together.

Ilya heaves an exaggerated sigh, “Okay then, just kiss me please and then we can go.”

Shane reaches immediately for Ilya’s face, their lips meeting, sliding his hands into Ilya’s carefully styled hair, grasping gently there for a moment while they kiss, deep and hard.

Ilya draws back, a little out of breath, “Okay, this might be an awkward cab ride.” He looks down at his crotch and Shane follows his gaze.

“Well you’re just going to have to think about something else,” Shane says.

“Not possible.”

~~~~

Ilya holds Shane’s hand the whole way in the 10 minute cab ride from Midtown to Greenwich Village, and he won’t let go as they get out of the car either, Shane scooching across the back seat to follow him out. It still feels like a novelty being able to just walk about freely together like this and Shane loves every second of it.

The bar is reasonably full, despite it being midweek. Shane sees about six or seven or the New York players, and obviously all of his teammates that have come too.  He is looking forward to finally meeting Eric and Kyle who he has heard a lot about too.

Shane spends most of the evening sitting in one of the booths with Kip, Harris and Troy, who refuses to leave Harris’ side and vice versa.

An hour or so into the evening, conversation is flowing. Kip has asked about their honeymoon, because they had indeed taken a lot of Scott’s suggestions, and Ilya had absolutely loved Ibiza. Shane has shown a few pictures, careful to open the right album on his phone - the “suitable for public consumption” one, not the one he kept just for him. 

Harris has shown them some of the videos and pictures he has already been editing from the game - ones of the goals and other top moments from the night’s game, including a particularly spectacular save by Hazy at almost full stretch, catcher out to save a shot from Scott.

Shane tries his absolute best to focus on everything as much as possible, but it isn’t the easiest because Ilya has decided to stand at the bar almost directly opposite where he is sitting. Not only that, he is leaning backwards against it, resting on his elbows and although Shane can see him talking with Scott, Eric and Carter - hear him gently ribbing them about their ages, roasting Scott about losing, and asking Carter friendly questions about his girlfriend - somehow throughout the whole evening, he and Ilya have barely taken their eyes off each other. Shane feels hot all over. 

All of sudden Ilya winks at him, and flashes a smile, wide and beautiful, eyes bright, lighting up the whole place.

It gives Shane an idea. He excuses himself from the booth and moves over to Ilya at the bar. Ilya stands up straight as Shane approaches, turning sideways to make room for him.

Shane slots himself in the gap next to him, smiles and said “Hello, мое солнышкоmy sunshine”. loud enough for pretty much everyone standing at the bar to hear.

Ilya doesn’t answer. His mouth drops open just a little. His hand comes up to rest lightly on Shane’s hip, then he leans in, a low rumble into Shane’s ear, “Bathroom.” Then he turns and is gone.

Shane is torn because this is a little reckless but also, he really really wants to meet Ilya in the bathroom. He supposes this must after all have kind of been his plan, knowing the effect this had been having on Ilya. He excuses himself, and walks the other way around the bar, hoping not to attract too much attention.

As soon as he is inside the bathroom, Ilya is on him, pressing him up against the door he just came through. Ilya is unbuckling the belt on Shane’s jeans, shoving his hand inside and okay, Shane was already getting hard on the way to the bathroom, but now he is practically straining under Ilya’s hand.

He presses his lips tight together so he doesn’t moan out loud, but now Ilya is manhandling him over towards the sinks. He lifts Shane up and sets him on the edge of the, thankfully pretty clean, counter, opens his belt and pulls down his jeans. He carefully pulls his cock out of his underwear, then immediately takes him into his mouth.

Shane sucks in a sharp breath and his hands go straight into Ilya’s curls and then he’s holding on for dear life. When Ilya gives a blow job like this, Shane can never think past Fuck, this is not going to last long.

He’s absolutely right. Ilya works fast, but he knows exactly how to get Shane off in no time at all. Where to lick, when to suck, hand rucking up his shirt and squeezing his pecs. Shane is looking down at him, which isn’t helping his control at all, but then Ilya glances up from under his lashes, reaches up and puts two fingers into Shane’s open mouth and Shane is done. He comes so hard, holding tight to Ilya’s hair and sucking his fingers so he doesn’t yell out.

Ilya pulls back, wiping at the corner of his mouth with his thumb. He lets out a contented “aaah” like he has just taken a huge swig of a cold drink. Shane can’t help the small breathy laugh that escapes.

Ilya tucks Shane back into his underwear and then leans in for a moment, resting his forehead against Shane’s shoulder.

“Ты делаешь это специально?” He mutters.

Shane looks puzzled, “I don’t know what that one means?”

“It means, моя любовь,” Ilya says standing up and looking at Shane, “are you doing this to me on purpose?”

“Doing what?” Shane does his best to feign innocence, “practicing my Russian?”

“Yes!”

“But you’re the one who’s been teaching me!” 

“Yes, but you know when you do it in front of other people like this it is making me fucking want you, all the time,” Ilya is squeezing the tops of Shane’s thighs, “You’re driving me crazy!”

“Well, I can’t be held responsible for your reactions.” Shane replies with a grin, and leans forward, kisses Ilya one more time, before he gets down off the counter and pulls his jeans back up.

Shane leaves the bathroom first. He thinks it must be incredibly obvious what they’ve been doing, but if it is, nobody seems to be judging or they are pretending not to notice, so he doesn’t feel too weird about it when he sits back down in the booth. That is until Ilya practically struts out of the bathroom, looking like the cat that literally got the cream.

Shane puts his head in his hands.

_____________

His favourite time though, is probably the one where it’s not really a new Russian word. There is a delivery driver at the door with a parcel for Ilya. Shane could take it, but he knows Ilya is right around the corner so turns and calls “Ilyusha, it’s something for you.”

Ilya comes slowly out from the kitchen, eyes fixed on Shane. He reaches a hand out for the package and takes it without even looking, still staring at Shane in a mixture of wonder and disbelief.

"Uh, thanks so much," Shane says to the delivery driver and shuts the door after he leaves.

"Ilya? You okay?"

"Ilyusha?" Ilya says, incredulous.

Shane can't tell if he's angry. He sounds just… shocked. He’s worried he did something wrong. "Did I-"

But he is cut off by Ilya kissing him, all over his face, his forehead, his cheeks, his lips, his jaw, his neck, "I should have known you would do this."

"Do what?" Shane gasps, as Ilya starts to suck a bruise at the curve where Shane's neck and shoulder meet.

"Find out ways to make me fall more in love with you." Ilya winds his arms around Shane’s back, and then he leans back for a second to just look at him.

“Oh!” Shane has a moment of realisation.

“What? What is it?”

“I see it now,” Shane says as Ilya holds him, staring at him so intently.

“See what?”.

“What you were talking about, what Hayden was always talking about.” Shane reaches up and gently brushes Ilya’s cheek with his thumb. “Your heart eyes.”

Ilya smiles, “Only for you, любовь всей моей жизниlove of my life."