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Shane was convinced Ilya had woken up this morning with the sole intention of fucking with him. As he brushed his teeth he watched Ilya dress, seemingly picking out every piece of clothing he knew Shane couldn’t resist.
Ilya slid on his black tee with the sleeves cut off, black jeans that hugged him in all the right places, his black centaurs hat backwards. ‘Of fucking course he's going to wear it backwards’ Shane thought to himself.
Suddenly Ilya appeared behind him as he was bent over the sink to spit, his groin conveniently brushing against Shane’s ass as he reached over his back for his own toothbrush in the cabinet.
Shane fought several urges at that moment. The urge to roll his hips back, the urge to roll his eyes. He wasn't going to let Ilya win this morning. He had already made them put off going shopping yesterday, insisting they could just have a grocery order delivered while they stayed home doing other things.
“We need to get more spinach too, I have to add it to the list.” He said as he slid past Ilya and out of the bathroom.
“Okay.” Ilya replied, now turning to watch Shane as he pulled on the jeans he knew Ilya liked him in and stepped to the dresser for a shirt.
Shane fought back a smile as he pulled one of Ilya’s tee shirts from the drawer ‘two can play this game’ he thought to himself as he slid it on. Ilya loves seeing Shane in his clothes. He thinks it’s probably third on the list of ‘Ilya’s favorite things Shane wears,’ closely following 1: his glasses, and 2: nothing at all.
He stepped next to Ilya in the bathroom and placed a kiss to his cheek before fixing his hair in the mirror.
“What about your own clothes? Is that on our shopping list?” Ilya smiled, gesturing to the shirt.
“Oh, this is yours? It was on my side of the dresser...” he replied with a shrug, turning to leave the bathroom again.
Ilya’s hand reached Shane’s ass with a playful slap as he turned away. Shane had to act like it didn’t affect him the way it did.
He shook his head to clear his mind as he left the bedroom, making his way downstairs, mumbling his shopping list aloud to himself both as a reminder and a distraction.
Spinach
Yogurt
Ginger Ale
In the car, Ilya rested his hand on Shane’s thigh as he drove, occasionally inching his hold dangerously close to his groin or squeezing his thigh in the way he knew usually got a reaction out of him.
Shane squeezed his eyelids closed beneath his sunglasses, turned toward the window, and took a deep breath, distracting himself with his shopping list once more:
Pickles
Salmon
Kale
As they made their way through the store, Ilya was unsurprisingly, still being a pain in the ass. Trying to beat Shane at finding the items they needed, rushing him when he wanted to read the labels, doing anything he could that would earn him any attention from Shane.
“Feel free to move down the list without me if you’re going to be a dick.” Shane said, turning to Ilya in response to the man poking repeatedly at his arm while he tried to read the ingredients on the canister of tea in his hand. Ilya rolled his eyes and sighed.
Shane watched as Ilya took off his hat and ran his hands through his curls, fluffing them up messily before sliding his hat back over them, still backwards. He shot Shane a quick wink, which gave him the startling realization that he’d been staring.
“Fuck off.” Shane huffed as dropped the tea in the cart and started walking away.
Chicken
Shrimp
Brown rice
Then, most frustratingly to Shane, Ilya kept finding any excuse to touch him. Fingers grazing when passing him items. Placing his hand on his lower back, there and then gone, quick enough for Shane to notice but not lingering long enough to allow him to say something. Just quick enough to leave him wanting more.
Shane tightened his grip on the handle of the shopping cart as he followed behind Ilya, forcing his eyes from the jeans hugging his ass just right, to the outdated and scuffed tile floor.
Blueberries
Honey
Granola
Even when the shopping was done and they made their way to the checkout line, Ilya acted like it was a race to place their items on the conveyor belt of the register, knocking Shane’s hands away from the items, grabbing things from his hands, generally acting like a child trying to win a game they had just made up.
Then Ilya had to rush to take his card out and be the one to pay, bumping his hip into Shane’s to knock him away from the card reader, like it even mattered, like they didn’t have a joint bank account anyway. Shane turned and smiled at the girl placing the bagged groceries back into the cart as he put his wallet back into his pocket, thankful for the distraction because when he tried to think of one…
Well fuck. Now the list is gone. Now what?
Ilya played the same game putting the bags in the trunk, grabbing each one Shane tried to reach for out from under his hands, so he gave up and got in the car while Ilya returned the cart.
“You okay, kotenok?” Ilya asked with a small smile, placing his hand back on Shane’s thigh once more, resting just above his knee.
‘God dammit’ He thought as he translated the Russian nickname in his head ‘kitten’, of course he’s pulling that one out now.” It had been a term Ilya recently pulled out in the bedroom one afternoon when Shane was acting ‘extra feisty’ as Ilya had described, both of them had been surprised by the twitch from Shane’s cock in response.
“Yeah. Fine.” He mumbled, head unmoving from where his gaze was locked on the world moving outside the car window. He started listing things he saw, desperate for a distraction from the large, muscular, and warm hand creeping up his thigh.
Car wash
Wendy’s
Crosswalk
Finally, Ilya pulled the car into the driveway and put it in park. Shane didn’t want to let him keep playing games so he had hopped out and walked to the trunk before Ilya could even get his phone unplugged.
Ilya insisted on doing everything at the store, and looking stupidly hot while doing it. So, Shane took this as the last chance he had to beat Ilya, because with him, somehow even grocery shopping turned into competition. Which was Ilya’s favorite way of getting Shane flustered, obviously- even after all these years, they both still loved to compete.
When Ilya met Shane at the back of the car he was surprised to see that Shane already had all their grocery bags in his hands.
Ilya held out his hand, offering to take some of the bags. He watched as Shane shuffled some off of his left hand, surprised to see that it was only so he could move them into his right hand with all the others.
Shane extended his now empty hand, grabbing Ilya's, lacing their fingers together.
“Shane, what are you doing?”
“Holding your hand.” he replied like it was obvious.
“Give me the bags, let me help.” Ilya insisted as he closed the trunk.
“No, I got it.”
“Shane, my hands are empty, there is no reason you need to carry them all.” he insisted.
“Maybe I have other plans for your hands, since you won’t keep them to yourself, they won't be empty for long.” Shane smirked.
Ilya let out an exaggerated and overdramatic gasp, “Who are you? What have you done with my nice, boring Canadian husband?”
“I’m literally carrying everything. How am I not nice?” Shane laughed.
“Okay so you are nice. But your mind is filthy.”
“Oh, shut the fuck up, Rozanov. You're so much worse than me and you know it. You’re just rubbing off on me.”
“Get inside, then I will rub off on you.” he replied with a wink and a smug smirk.
“My point exactly.” Shane sighed, trying to sound annoyed, but he was already rushing them to the door.
Shane placed all the bags onto the kitchen table and began unpacking them and putting the items away where they belonged. Instead of helping, Ilya simply leaned against the counter and watched, his arms folded across his chest.
“Oh don’t worry I’ll do this all by myself too.” He huffed sarcastically, playfully checking his shoulder into Ilya’s as he passed him to get to the fridge behind him.
“You said you did not want my help. You said you had other plans for my hands…” Ilya’s voice darkened and trailed off as he turned to Shane, now bent over, placing groceries in the freezer. He placed both his hands on Shane’s hips, sliding them until his palms rested firmly on each side of his ass.
Shane slid out of his grasp and walked back to the table, “For now it's to put this stuff away before things thaw, make yourself useful.”
“You are being very bratty today, Hollander, acting like very grumpy kitten.” Ilya stated, scrunching up his nose and making claws out of his fingers. dramatic.
“Me?! You’ve been fucking with me since the moment you woke up!” He shouted back, smacking one of Ilya’s claw hands out of the air.
“What are you saying?” Ilya smiled, watching Shane like a predator stalking its prey as they moved around each other to put the last of the groceries away. “I would never do this.”
“You’re lying and you know it.”
“What have I done to you that is so bad, kotenok (kitten)?” He asked in a harsh whisper, crowding Shane until he backed up against the counter while he reached into the cabinet behind him.
“Well that,” he replied, planting his pointed finger firmly on Ilya’s chest, using it to push him away “is one example and I know that you know that.” He narrowed his eyes to glare at him, Ilya only smiled wider in return, pleased to see the nickname was still affecting his husband in just the way he had hoped it would.
“Your clothes,” Shane continued, emptying the last grocery bag “you’re not subtle, you know. The shirt, those jeans, that fucking hat.”
“Mmm-“ Ilya hummed into Shane’s neck, crowding him once more against the counter as Shane placed the last item in its place on the shelf, his hands braced on the counter on both sides of Shane’s hips, pinning him in place. “So you think I look good?” He whispered, lips against the skin just below his ear.
“I always think you look good.” Shane said, turning to face him, their noses brushing together with how close they are. “You know I like how you look in all of these things,” his fingers traced the hem of Ilya’s shirt, fingertips softly brushing the skin of his stomach. “wearing them all at once made it a little obvious, don’t you think?”
Ilya slid his thigh between Shane’s. Feeling the obviously hardening bulge against his thigh, he raised his eyebrows as his eyes met Shane’s “well it worked, didn’t it?”
“Fuck you.” Shane’s hands found Ilya’s hips with a playful shove.
“Uh, yes that is the point.” Ilya grinned.
“God you are such an asshole.” He had tried to sound tough and unaffected, but his voice wavered as he whispered, his lips brushing Ilya’s, his hands pulled Ilya's hips to drag his cock against his own, feeling that he was now just as hard as Shane was.
“You dressed like a tease too. Wearing my shirt. and you know how your ass looks in those jeans, Hollander.” Ilya groaned as he gripped Shane’s ass with both hands. He crashed their lips together before he could respond, rough and hungry. Shane’s lips parted instinctively and Ilya’s tongue found its way into his mouth.
Shane continued to maneuver Ilya’s hips with his hands, grinding them together, slow, deep and hard, the friction torturously dulled by the layers of fabric between them. He pushed his hips back but kept him close, guiding him to walk backwards. He turned Ilya with his hands, guiding him by the waist to the living room. While Ilya kissed his neck his fingers worked at the button and the fly of Shane’s jeans, both coming undone easily.
As Shane backed him against the couch he undid Ilya’s jeans and quickly shoved them down his legs, Ilya stepped out of them as he pulled his shirt off, knocking his hat off in the process, he fully intended on leaving it discarded as he brought his fingers to the waistband of his briefs about to pull them down before Shane stopped him.
“Hat back on. Leave your underwear on and sit.” He said as he stepped out of his own jeans.
“Bossy, kotenok. Very feisty.” Ilya groaned, but did as he was told.
His breath caught in his throat as Shane climbed in his lap, their cocks brushing once more, both left in only their briefs, the barrier between them though thinner now, still irritating to Ilya.
Shane’s hands moved to the hem of his shirt -Ilya’s shirt- beginning to lift it up.
“No,” Ilya's hands grabbed his, “no, leave it on.”
Shane smiled. as he cupped Ilya’s face in his hands, bringing their lips back together. He kissed him slow at first, quickly becoming deeper and harder as he ground his erection over Ilya’s. He could feel the wet spot forming on his briefs as he worked his hips down harder and faster.
He rolled and bucked his hips, grinding them together from every possible angle he could, as deep and hard as he could. His hands on Ilya's chest as he kissed and nipped at his neck, panting into his skin.
“Fuck, Shane, please. Take them off.” Ilya panted, his hands grabbing at the waistband of Shane’s underwear, fingers sliding in, grazing his cock.
Shane’s hips froze in place as he grabbed Ilya’s hand with his own. A smug smile grew on his lips “you teased me all morning, and now you can’t handle it when I fight back?”
Ilya’s eyes darkened as his hands gripped Shane’s hips, moving him to grind him down against himself.
“If this is how you want it, I will make you come just like this. Is that what you want?” He growled, turning his head and bringing his mouth to Shane’s neck, his teeth sliding softly over the skin, his tongue and lips licking and sucking anywhere he could reach. His hands slid around to grip Shane’s ass grinding him down harder, their cocks pulsing against each other through the strained and wet fabric.
“Ilya-“ Shane moaned, “want to come for you, please.”
Shane panted and let Ilya move his hips for him, moving with him only to deepen the contact of their cocks straining against the thin fabric, both of them moaning each time they connected.
“Fuck- yes- come for me, Shane.” He panted, moving his own hips up to meet Shane’s, grinding them against each other as hard as he could.
“Oh fuck-Ilya” Shane shouted as he came grinding his hips with Ilya’s as their pace began to slow. Ilya watched Shane as his body shuddered with pleasure as he tried to catch his breath. As he came he realized despite feeling teased and frustrated by this man earlier, he felt overwhelmingly loved. Ilya spent his whole day planning, what he wore, everything he did, to get them- to get Shane right to this point. This man was obsessed with him.
“You didn’t-“
“No, but close.” Ilya responded, still slowly rolling his hips up into Shane, not wanting to overstimulate him but desperate for his own release.
Shane was thankful Ilya understood what he was going to ask because he didn’t feel he could talk much. He was overwhelmed with his release as he often was when Ilya teased him for hours before fucking him until he felt like he was drunk off it. Something about how quick and desperate it had felt to be dry humping his gorgeous husband had him feeling so hot, loose, and drunk now too. His bones felt like jelly and his eyes felt heavy and all he wanted was to make his husband come. Watch him come undone for him, because of him.
Shane stood from his lap, moving to kneel before Ilya before an arm came out to stop him.
“Wait-“ Ilya said, shifting to the edge of the couch to reach Shane’s waist. “Let me look at you.”
Shane took a step forward, getting as close as possible, so he could reach him. Ilya’s hand lifted the hem of his shirt so his lips could meet his skin, placing a kiss just above the waistband of his now messy briefs.
“So good for me. So fucking beautiful when you get messy for me.” His mouth hovered over the large wet mess on the fabric, the heat sending a chill up Shane’s spine.
Shane hummed in response, his hands softly sliding and caressing from Ilya’s neck to his shoulders, gliding their way down his chest as Shane lowered himself to his knees in front of Ilya. His hands sliding over the smooth, damp skin of his chest, massaging at his peck, thumbs grazing over his nipples, his lips grazing over the wet spot on Ilya’s briefs earning soft moans from him as he lifted himself off the couch just enough to pull his briefs down to his knees.
His hands worked their way to Ilya’s briefs, he took the waistband in his fingers, Ilya moved his hands to cradle Shane’s face, his thumbs grazing his cheeks before he moved one to softly rub at his bottom lip. Shane tipped his head and brought it into his mouth, rolling his tongue around the tip as he sucked.
Ilya reached his other hand up and pulled his hat off, before Shane could protest losing the sight (or try to somehow with a thumb in his mouth), Ilya had slid the hat onto Shane’s head, backwards.
“Fuck.” Ilya moaned. “You are too perfect, moya lyubov.” He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Shane’s forehead.
As Shane pulled his briefs off the rest of the way, Ilya pulled his thumb from his mouth and moved it to his cheek, gliding it softly to trace over his freckles, leaving a shining trail of spit in its path but Shane didn’t care. He liked the way it felt messy and cool on his skin as the air hit the wet. He turned his head to place a soft kiss to Ilya’s wrist before turning his attention to his cock.
He leaned up on his knees, he wrapped one hand around as he licked it up and down.
“You love teasing my cock, don’t you? Just like you love when I tease you? Even if you act like a little brat, like you don’t like it, you dress for me, you wear my clothes. You want me to tease you, build it up before I make you come undone for me.” Ilya hummed. Shane nodded before wrapping his lips over the tip of his cock.
“Shane- fuck, just like that.” he groaned, his head rolling back, but only for a second before he snapped it back up to watch Shane.
His lips wrapped softly around his cock, sliding up and down as he drooled and took him all the way down.
He brought one hand back to Shane's face, his thumb tracing over his cheek. The sight of his husband like this left him feeling like he was drunk, or high, or just… floating. His soft silky hair, messy under Ilya’s hat, the flush of his skin highlighting his beautiful freckles, and his eyes tearing and blown wide with love as he looked up at him. It was all too much, enough to bring him right over the edge.
“Fuck Shane, I’m-” he panted, trying to warn him to pull off.
But he didn't, Shane only took him deeper as he swallowed his release. He slowed his pace and made sure he worked him all the way through, waiting until his cock began to soften on his tongue before he removed his mouth from it.
Ilya grasped at his shoulders to pull him back up into his lap, crashing their lips together in a rough and passionate kiss, tasting himself on Shane’s tongue.
“I like seeing you in my hat.” Ilya smiled as he finally pulled away.
“Yeah,” Shane sighed “I could tell.” He added with a soft laugh.
“Maybe number four on list of things I like on you.”
‘I knew he had a list’ Shane thought to himself.
“Oh really? And what are one through three?” Well now he needs to know if he got the list right…
“Hm, one is glasses. Two is nothing, No clothes, Naked. Just totall-“
“Yeah Ilya I got it, naked.” He cut him off with a laugh. “What’s number three?”
“Three is my clothes. So I guess maybe hat is part of that… but is different because I like you in your hat too but it is even better that it is my hat…” he trailed off with his eyebrows scrunched like he was confusing himself but really trying to figure it out.
Shane just smiled and laughed and called it- he thought as he pressed a gentle kiss to the wrinkles between Ilya's sweet, confused eyebrows.
“This is why I always mess with you. Even when you try to act all grumpy and mean, the punishment is fun.”
“We can fuck without you acting like a pain in the ass.”
“Yes but is fun when you get all frustrated first. Makes you needy and you come so fast.”
“Fuck you, Rozanov!” He shouted as Ilya laughed and laughed.
His hands on Shane’s shoulders pulled him in to kiss him again. He fought off smiling when he felt Shane’s cock begin to twitch and harden again against his own.
“I’m all gross, I need to take these off and shower.” Shane groaned, breaking the kiss after a moment to look at the ruined briefs he regrettably still had on.
“Not gross. Never gross. You are very sexy. But yes we can go clean up and change, or maybe fuck…” he trailed off as he stood, picking Shane up with him.
Shane gasped at the sudden moment as his arms and legs reflexively wrapped around him.
“Yes, that. Let’s do that.” He blurted out, squirming in Ilya’s arms to kiss his neck while he carried him to the stairs.