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And there he was again, sitting on the toilet scrolling Reddit. He had a throwaway account from when he’d first moved to America and Connors had said he had to have one—and then proceeded to send him a ton of porn and fall compilation videos.
And Ilya would be lying if he said he hadn’t looked a time or two. But now his purposes were very different. He’d searched “antidepressants men sex” and scrolled through a few posts before clicking one at random.
What he saw was not reassuring.
“You good?” Shane knocked on the door. “I told them we’d be over at 5.”
“I’m good. Will be done soon.”
He stood up, flushing the toilet for show and washing his hands. Shane hadn’t noticed anything different, but Ilya had been watching him do yoga that morning and… nothing.
Shane was shirtless with those tight fucking leggings on and Ilya hadn’t even felt a twitch. That was not normal.
They were just off a busy press tour after playoffs, so it could be exhaustion. He and Shane hadn’t had much time for sex the last week, which coincided with when he’d started his medication.
And Ilya knew this could happen. Galina had referred him to a good psychiatrist who had gone over the side effects, in exhaustive detail. The doctor had called it “sexual dysfunction.” Ilya remembered the statistic — 40-70% — because it had seemed ridiculous.
But a ball of something sour settled in his stomach as he got ready for their dinner with Shane’s parents.
***
Shane wore sunglasses and kept a hand on Ilya’s knee as they drove over. Ilya tried not to fidget so Shane wouldn’t catch on to his racing thoughts.
What if I can’t get hard anymore?
What if we can’t have sex at all?
Will Shane still want to be with me?
The backyard already smelled like heaven, and Shane gravitated to the grill immediately. Yuna had gifted David a blackstone for father’s day, so they were cooking a bunch of meat and vegetables for dinner.
By the way Shane was eyeing the grill, Ilya figured they’d have one at their home in Ottawa and one at the cottage by end of summer at the latest.
Yuna handed him a beer. “Want to help me inside? I’m making a cucumber salad.”
In the warm company of Shane’s parents, the evening turning just cool enough to need a blanket as they sat outside, Ilya forgot.
Ilya forgot as he put the leftovers David had pushed into their hands in the fridge while Shane disappeared upstairs. He forgot as he double-checked the front door was locked and closed the blinds.
He remembered, though, when he walked into the bathroom to Shane stepping out of the shower.
“Hey,” Shane hummed, stepping into his space. Ilya’s hands gripped his waist on instinct, or muscle memory. “You can rinse off while I go get ready?”
It was a question, and Ilya could say any number of things without sounding suspicious. He could say he was tired, and Shane would kiss him and say something like, “Okay, come to bed and I’ll rub your back,” or “Yeah, we could both use a good night's sleep.”
Ilya didn’t say anything, just pressed a kiss into Shane’s hair before letting him go into the bedroom.
It would be fine.
Ilya soaped up his body quickly, and after rinsing, kept his eyes shut under the warm spray. He touched himself, and when the usual sensations didn’t work, brought to mind his favorite memories of Shane—the trophy room was a sure winner.
Except nothing was happening. He squeezed his eyes shut, as if he could will a boner into existence.
“Fuck this shit,” he mumbled, the words drowned out by the shower.
Perhaps it had been cocky of him to assume that it wouldn’t happen to him. As the psychiatrist had gone over percentages and statistics, he had thought those side effects were surely more relevant for men who were lonely, who already had trouble. Ilya was healthy, active, not to mention fucking Russian—he didn’t have, you know, troubles.
Except, he stared down at his flaccid dick, now he did. He cut off the shower with a bit more force than was necessary and tried to swallow down the burning sensation at the back of his throat.
Being with Shane, being in his arms and feeling them pressed against each other, that was what he needed.
It would be fine.
***
Ilya covered Shane with his body as soon as he slipped into bed. Shane had already gotten under the covers, so Ilya pushed them off as he peppered kisses up his chest, onto his neck and jaw. Finally, Shane gripped his hair and pulled their mouths together.
They both relaxed into the kiss, taking their time to touch and be touched. Shane was fully hard after only a few moments, pressing his cock into Ilya’s hip. Ilya tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest as he deepened the kiss. Still, nothing was happening.
Shane would notice, was his first thought. Shane would notice and think there was something wrong with Ilya, or worse, he’d notice and think there was something wrong with himself. Ilya tried to subtly lift his hips away, but Shane wasn’t having it, using his impressive thigh muscles to squeeze Ilya closer to him.
Desperate, Ilya wrapped his hands around Shane’s wrists, whispering for him to hold onto the bottom of the headboard. It never failed to put Shane in a different headspace, and it had the added benefit of keeping him from being too observant.
Ilya moved down Shane’s body, sucking kisses and leaving soft bite marks on the pale skin of Shane’s chest. The skin would become golden as the summer progressed, and Ilya looked forward to the long days in the sun.
Shane gasped as Ilya took him into his mouth. Ilya wanted to drag this out, so he was purposefully teasing, dragging his lips along the side of Shane’s cock, licking around the base, then moving slowly up to play with the sensitive spot at the underside of his glans.
“Fuck, Ilya,” Shane panted. “Fingers, please.”
Ilya pressed a few more kisses along the shaft before leaning over to grab the lube from the nightstand. He took Shane back into his mouth as he circled a lubed finger at his entrance, pressing in as he sucked Shane’s cock into the back of his throat.
“God, fuck,” Shane’s voice was breathier, and Ilya knew that meant he was close. He lifted his mouth off with an audible pop, letting just the tip of his tongue circle the head.
“Close already, малыш?”
“Yeah,” Shane picked his head up to look down at Ilya, his eyes glassy and face flushed, “It’s been almost a week.”
Ilya pressed his face into Shane’s hip, adding a second finger to distract him. Ilya ground his hips into the mattress hard, all but humping it. Anything to get his dick to just wake the fuck up.
It wasn’t like he didn’t want it. He wanted it. So bad. He wanted to fuck his boyfriend into the mattress and then he wanted to change the sheets and wake up to do it again in the morning. But his fucking body wasn’t cooperating.
He added a third finger, but Shane pressed on his shoulder with his foot.
“Need you, no more.” Shane used his other foot to try and pull Ilya up, dislodging his fingers with the movement.
“But I want to touch you more,” he said, kissing along the crease at Shane’s hip. “I think you can take four tonight.”
“No more fingers. Want you.”
Ilya pressed his face into Shane’s hip again, fisting the sheets.
“Ilya?” Shane asked. Ilya didn’t move. Not only could he not get hard, he was going to fucking cry like a baby now. He tried the deep breaths Galina had coached him on, the kind Shane did during yoga. “Hey, Ilya?”
Hands gripped onto his shoulder. “Ilya, what’s wrong? You’re scaring me.”
“I can’t,” he whispered. Part of him hoped Shane didn’t hear. Part of him hoped the bed would open up and swallow him whole so he didn’t have to tell his boyfriend that he couldn’t get hard anymore. That his dick was broken because his head was broken.
“Can’t what?”
Shane’s voice was clear and firm. Ilya buried his head more deeply. Not only could he not get hard, but now he’d ruined the night for Shane, too. Shane, who was sitting up and pulling on Ilya’s hair, trying to get him to lift his head. Ilya didn’t want to, but he reached for Shane and pressed his face into his lap.
Shane carded gentle fingers in his hair, like his mother used to do to wake him up in the morning. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Ilya would pretend to be asleep for as long as she would let him. Ilya thought maybe she got up early some days, just to have more time to sit with him as dawn broke.
“Please talk to me,” Shane pleaded. “Just tell me if I did anything wrong.”
“Not you, me,” Ilya tried. English was always harder when he was upset. “I am wrong.”
Shane’s whole body moved then, and Ilya was caught off guard as he was flipped onto his back, Shane crouched over him. Ilya tried to turn away, but Shane held his jaw in a firm but gentle grip. Ilya could have pushed it away if he wanted, but he was already pathetic. Might as well let Shane see how—
He flinched as Shane flicked his nose with his other hand. It didn’t even hurt, but it was a surprise.
“Ilya, Скажи мне, дорогой.”
Ilya sucked in a breath.
“That is dirty play,” he mumbled.
“Well, you’re really freaking me out. I had to bring out the big guns.”
“Ah, but my guns are bigger.” Ilya tried to smile, but it got lost somewhere on his face. His eyes burned and he couldn’t blink fast enough to stop a tear from escaping.
“Hey, hey. Let’s sit up, okay? Come on.”
Ilya covered himself with the blanket as they settled in their spots against the headboard. Shane didn’t say anything about it, and didn’t rush him to explain. He did hold out his hand, though, which Ilya could not resist even if he tried.
Their fingers laced together and rested in the spot between them.
Ilya sighed. “Is my medication.”
“Are you feeling, um, bad again? Or like, sick?”
“No,” he shook his head, focusing on the pattern of the bedspread. He couldn’t meet Shane’s eyes for this. “My dick. It does not work anymore.”
“Wait, your—” Shane cut himself off. “Okay. We talked about this with the doctor. It’s pretty normal, right?”
“But is not normal,” Ilya insisted, probably a bit too strongly. “I do not have this problem.” Because Ilya wasn’t a— well, a limp-dicked bastard. He’d thrown that around on the ice enough times that maybe this was his karma.
“I just want them to fix my head, and now they break my dick,” he continued.
“Your dick isn’t broken.”
“It is,” Ilya almost yelled. Shane didn’t understand. “I watch you do yoga and I cannot get hard, and now I ruin sex. And what if this is not temporary, huh? You will want boyfriend with broken dick?”
Shane untangled his hand from Ilya’s. “You think I’m only with you for the sex?”
Ilya shrugged. “It is big part, da?
“Wow.”
“Would be selfish,” Ilya started, but he didn’t even want to finish that thought. The idea of Shane leaving him, or maybe not even that, but seeing him as less. Less as a man, less as a partner. Because he knew Shane loved sex, and if Ilya could not give him that, what then?
“Ilya,” Shane whispered, voice breaking. “Look at me.”
Ilya couldn’t. He was thinking of weeks, months from now when it was not so easy to be nice. When Shane would be frustrated with him and horny and Ilya would not be able to fuck him. They had a whole summer ahead of them, and Ilya might be useless for all of it.
“I love you, no matter what.
“Oh, so you will be with someone who can never have sex?” A small part of Ilya knew he was being dramatic, and unfair to Shane in his attempt to soothe Ilya.
“I’ll be with you.” Ilya glanced over then, just quickly. Shane was looking at him with the kind of earnestness that burned. “Seriously. I know that, you know, sex was all this was at the start. And we do have sex a lot when we’re together. But it’s not like—” Shane paused, like he was trying to find the right words. “It’s not like I don’t love the other parts of you, of us, just as much.”
“You say this now, but—”
“Ilya, shut up. Can you trust that I know what I want? Don’t try to put thoughts in my head. I’m telling you I love you.”
Ilya couldn’t help but press his forehead into Shane’s shoulder. “But I want to fuck you,” he whined. He’d said that to Shane before, he realized. At their first All Stars.
Shane was quiet, and when Ilya glanced up, his eyes were caught on the nightstand. Ilya nudged him with his head.
“You still can,” Shane said softly. “I mean, if you really want to, you know.” He rolled his lips and looked down at Ilya, a soft blush on his cheeks.
“You mean use your thing?” Ilya clarified. He’d seen it before, in video calls, but Shane was oddly shy about it in person.
“Only if you want. I don’t mean that it’s, like, better. But you said you wanted . . . and like, you can. If you still want—”
Ilya smiled at Shane’s blustering. He found he really did want to use the dildo on Shane—was curious how he’d react. “Yes, Shane. I will fuck you with your thing.”
Shane got out said thing, a respectable size, if not as big as Ilya. They debated a few positions, but Ilya decided it would be best for Shane to lay over his lap. That way he could see what he was doing and watch Shane’s face for any signs of discomfort.
He started with a finger again after warming up the lube in his hand.
“I’m already, you know,” Shane said. He had his head pillowed on his hands, face turned toward Ilya.
“Yes, but I want to play with your little asshole,” Ilya said, knowing the words would make Shane flush. “Is so pink and pretty.” He punctuated the words with a second finger, letting them slide slowly in, and then stopping. It only took a few seconds for Shane to start rotating his hips.
“I think I have found new favorite position,” he said. “Perfect view. Your face, your hole.” He used his other hand to spread Shane’s cheeks apart, adding a third finger again.
“Fuck, Ilya, do it. Please. I need—”
“I know, котёнок,” he murmured.
He lubed up the dildo, soft and purple with a wide base, and set the tip at Shane’s hole. He didn’t tease, just pressed it inside as he cataloged Shane’s expressions. He watched as Shane’s ass tried to cling to the dildo as he withdrew it part way, then sucked it back in as he pressed inside. He let it slide in all the way to the base, then used both hands to massage Shane’s cheeks.
“Fuck, Ilya.” Shane was already gripping the sheets by his head, and Ilya felt how hard he was against his lap. Shane moved his hips a bit, causing his cock to slide in between his thighs. That gave Ilya an idea.
“Roll over a bit, please.” Ilya helped Shane roll, then squirted a bit of lube between his own thighs. “Now back.” He guided Shane back into his lap, adjusting so Shane’ cock was nestled in the now slick space between Ilya’s thighs.
“Fuck, god, that’s so good.” Shane started thrusting immediately, and Ilya took hold of the base of the dildo, letting Shane fuck himself into his thighs and then back onto the dildo.
“Yes, малыш, make yourself feel good.”
That went on for a bit, with Shane adjusting as needed to hit the right spot and rhythm. Ilya was amazed at how much he enjoyed himself, even if his body still wasn’t showing it.
Sex had always been about mutual pleasure. After being, admittedly, a pretty big asshole about it as a teenager, he learned that sex really was better when both parties enjoyed themselves. Most of the fun for Ilya had been in getting his partners to let go, to lose themselves, knowing it was because of him that they felt so good. That kind of rush fueled him.
Sex with Shane wasn’t any different in that respect. But Ilya had never considered that it might feel the same, even if he himself wasn’t also getting pleasure. And it wouldn’t have, with those other people.
Shane was different, because Ilya loved him. Loved making him feel good, loved watching him fall apart because he knew he was the one doing it, and loved knowing he was the one who’d get to put him back together again.
“So close. Fuck, Ilya. Harder, please," Shane begged. Ilya gripped the base of the dildo in response, angling it like he would his own dick to drag against Shane’s prostate. He flexed his thighs, too, tightening the pressure around Shane’s cock as he thrust clumsily back and forth, seeking out his climax.
“Fuck,” Shane shouted, and Ilya felt the warmth seeping between his legs, and watched the subtle pulse of Shane’s hole around the dildo. “Fuck,” he said again, letting his body relax.
Ilya carefully pulled the toy out, setting it aside for cleaning. He lifted Shane’s hips so he could lay down next to him, petting his face and peppering soft kisses against his cheeks and down the bridge of his nose.
“Was good?” he asked.
“Mhm,” Shane nodded. “S’ good.”
They laid like that for a bit, trading soft kisses as Shane recovered.
When the sheets had been changed and their phones were plugged into their chargers, Shane came to sit on Ilya’s side of the bed instead of slipping under the covers on his own.
“Yes?” Ilya asked cautiously. He wasn’t sure he was up for more talking if that’s what Shane was after.
“Can I suck you? Not like a blowjob, but . . . Well, actually, I don’t know. Maybe it’s weird. But I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep if—”
“Yes, you have oral fixation, I know,” Ilya teased, softening it by pressing a quick kiss to Shane’s lips. “I don’t think anything will happen, but you can do whatever you want to me. You know this.”
Shane nodded. “Okay. Just lay back,” Shane pressed on his shoulder. Ilya heard a bit of fumbling at the nightstand, and then music played from the sound system. It was the calming playlist Shane used for his morning yoga.
“I do not need romantic—”
“Ilya, shut up. You’re going to lay here, close your eyes, and rest. That’s all.”
Ilya shut up and closed his eyes. He wasn’t totally sure what Shane had in mind, but that was fine.
Shane ended up between Ilya’s legs, now wiped free of cum and lube. Laying on his side, Shane rested his head at the crease of Ilya’s thigh and started pressing soft kisses into his skin.
Ilya tried to relax into it, but he still felt a little wrong in his body. Shane had never been this close to his cock for so long without anything happening.
“Relax,” Shane reminded him, feeling the muscles in his thighs. Ilya made a concentrated effort to release the tension from his body. Shane would lie on the floor sometimes after yoga and call it savasana, said it was a “restorative pose for conscious relaxation.” To Ilya, it just looked like lying down.
But he tried that, and even when Shane pressed his lips to Ilya’s cock, he tried to keep the tension from his body.
Shane then used the flat of his tongue to lick along the base before sucking the entire shaft into his mouth. Ilya was still soft, but it didn’t feel bad. Warm and wet was always good.
Shane didn’t move his head, just let the whole of Ilya rest in his mouth.
It felt a bit weird to have his dick in someone’s mouth without anything happening. But he peeked a look down at Shane. He looked sweet, which Ilya thought might be a weird thing to think about his boyfriend while his mouth was around his cock, but it was true.
Shane didn’t move, seemingly content to lay there all night. So Ilya closed his eyes again, letting his mind clear of everything.
He was in that strange space between sleeping and awake when he realized his cock had hardened. It wasn’t fully hard yet, but enough that Shane couldn’t easily fit the whole thing in his mouth.
Shane adjusted then, pulling almost all the way off before going down again. Ilya groaned, relief mixing with lust to produce a heady combination. He looked down to see Shane watching him. Shane lifted his head again, eyebrows raised as if to ask permission. Ilya nodded, gasping as Shane increased the suction. Blood was flowing quickly now, and he felt the rush of arousal pass through him, centering in his groin.
Shane gripped the underside of his legs, pressing his thighs up a bit to give him enough stability to really move up and down Ilya’s cock.
“Fuck, Shane,” Ilya gasped. He reached forward and Shane took his hand, holding it tightly.
Shane kept going, and Ilya stayed hard, but he didn’t feel close yet.
“Hey, малыш, I do not think—” He tried to tell Shane that it might not happen. That he might be hard but that didn’t mean he could come.
Shane took a break from sucking and used his hand, the amount of spit on Ilya’s cock making it an easy slide. Shane shushed him once he caught his breath.
“Shut up. Unless you really want me to stop—” he said. Which was playing dirty again, because Shane’s mouth and hand felt so fucking good. Ilya’s whole body tingled as Shane worked a tight hand along his cock, the other now rubbing soothing circles into his abdomen.
The almost too-tight grip and the fast pace of Shane’s strokes combined to, finally, bring him to the edge.
“Gonna come,” he rasped.
Shane pressed forward until his mouth was on Ilya’s ear, teeth sinking into the lobe and giving it a hard suck. That was what did it for him—Ilya grit his teeth to keep from shouting as his body finally released, cum mixing with sweat and spit.
Shane collapsed over him, burying his face into Ilya’s neck. Ilya brought his arms around him, hugging him tightly. He was not ready for words yet, but he wanted Shane to know how much this had meant to him.
“How is your jaw?” Ilya asked after a few minutes.
“Sore,” Shane mumbled into his neck. “But worth it.”
Shane sat up, straddling Ilya’s waist. He used his fingers to comb Ilya’s curls back from his face. The sweat at his hairline cooled.
“You’re not, like, less of a man if your medicine impacts your libido. You know that, right?” Shane asked.
Shane, who could miss a joke that was right in front of his face, and at the same time, catch a puck no one else saw coming. He took Ilya's breath away.
Ilya opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out.
“And maybe this is weird to talk about, but I had a really good sexual health teacher in secondary school. And she used to just say, ‘penises are weird.’ Because it’s all connected to the circulatory system, so even the smallest changes can make a difference, you know?
“Your medicine is changing things in your head, and that’s a good thing. And if it changes how we interact with each other, maybe that’s a good thing too? Like, I love our sex, but that’s not all we are to each other anymore. We can be intimate in so many more ways now, and I love that.” Shane smiled. “And I never want you to think I only love you for your dick.”
“But is good dick,” Ilya joked.
“The best.” Shane nodded. “Even when it’s not cooperating like you want it to. That’s all I wanted to show you.”
They cleaned up—again—and slipped into the sheets together. Ilya knew this wasn’t the last of the conversation, that Shane would want Ilya to talk about it more, and that was probably important.
But for now, he would fall asleep to the soft touch of Shane’s hand in his curls and a warm body nestled into his side.