Work Text:
Shane felt the weight of the world slip away as he surrendered himself to the rhythm of his pace on the treadmill. It was the subtle burn in his lungs, the strain against the continued movement, the thwop thwop thwop of his sneakers against the belt; it added up to a nearly meditative environment.
The treadmill was turned up fast enough to test Shane's already admirable endurance, and he'd been at it for nearly 15 minutes, rounding out a second mile. His headphones were turned to noise cancelling, so all he could hear above his own footfalls was the beat of some anonymous dj his playlist had selected for him.
A flash in the corner of Shane's vision pulled him out of his head for a moment. Distracted by the sudden occupation of the treadmill next to him.
He glanced over, a frown already tugging at his lips and a line forming between his brows. The gym was nearly empty at this time on a Tuesday afternoon, and an entire row of empty treadmills stretched out before him. But instead of one of those other perfectly good treadmills, his neighbor hid picked this one, right next to him.
He didn't look over as he started his own workout, immediately cranking the pace up nearly as high as Shane had his.
Shane let his eyes travel down form the mop of dark blond curls, over the mans impressive shoulders, down to his equally impressive ass.
A flash of hazel eyes sends a jolt through Shane and he snaps his head back to his own treadmill screen. He can feel the flush of embarrassment creeping in like he's been caught with his hand in a candy jar.
He tucks his chin, inching the pace on his machine up so he can pretend its just the exertion and not the growing knot in his stomach that's making him so red. But Shane can feel the gaze that has settled on him from his side and he knows that if he glances over he'll meet those same hazel eyes again.
Instead he grits his teeth together, pushing harder and harder, till the weight of his neighbors gaze recedes.
Shane doesn't mean to spend 25 minutes on the treadmill, and he's nearly panting as he finally slaps the stop button and lets his pace die out. Beside him his neighbor his nearly drenched in sweat. Shane let's his eyes linger for a second as he draws a long swig of water from his bottle.
His grey tanktop is darkened through, stuck to his muscular body in a line down his back. He's turned his own pace down to a gentle jog by the time Shane has wiped down his machine and turned to head out of the cardio room.
Again Shane ignores the weight of the gaze that watches him as he throws a fresh towel over his shoulder and walks off. He has to suppress the smile now pulling at his lips at the feeling of being watched, of being seen by a man like that.
The weight room is lined with mirrors on two sides. Big racks of free weights stand mostly untouched beside the equally empty benches. It's a big gym, always enough space, even on the weekends when its packed. Today, it feels nearly private. Nearly.
Shane selects a bench at the end of the row, close to the kettle bells and a rack of hand weights. He sets his water bottle down and begins his routine.
He gather's the first set of weights and adjusts the bench so it sits just right. He likes to see his form in the mirror as he lifts so he can make sure everything is perfect and also so he's not caught off guard when a familiar figure appears behind him in the weight room.
It's like clockwork. Shane had just started his second rep of shoulder presses when the man from the treadmill approaches. His face is wet with sweat, hazel eyes sparkling as they land on Shane.
The flush returns as he ventures to meet his neighbors gaze through the mirror. He's rewarded with a smirk that lights up the room.
Shane looses count of his reps as he stares back at the man who again, selects the bench closest to him. Shane huffs, dropping his form and letting the weights rest on his thighs. He's somewhat annoyed. He'd maybe be more annoyed if he wasn't equally as enraptured by his new shadow.
The man's mouth quirks up slightly, Shane can see his lips moving but can't hear him over the music.
With another flush of embarassment, he reaches up and plucks out his earbud. "Huh?" He blurts out stupidly.
The man smiles easily, hazel eyes boring holes into Shane.
"I said, are you done with those yet?" He glances down to the dumbbells currently resting on Shane's thighs.
"There's other's over there." He nods to the full rack of weights on the other side of the room.
His neighbor doesn't move though, he just stares at Shane, eyes flicking between the dumbbells and his face for a moment.
"I want those." He shrugs.
Shane frowns back at him.
"I am Ilya by the way." He continues as he leans back to rest his head on the bench he's sat on next to Shane.
"Shane." He nods back, trying suddenly to remember what he was in the middle of doing.
Shane turns back to the mirror intent on finishing his workout. He had one more set, maybe? One more is probably fine.
"Nice to meet you, Shane." Ilya says, drawing his words out slowly beside him.
Shane glances over in the mirror and meets the other mans eye again. It sends a rush of heat through him that has nothing to do with his workout or the 75lb dumbbells in his hands.
Shane nods, popping his earbud back in. He has to refocus. He tries to yank his mind away from the gravitational pull of the man beside him and just focus on the routine. With another deep breath Shane starts his set.
Eight reps later, Shane stands to re-rack his weights only to be met with the same curious smile beside him.
Ilya reaches out, long finger brushing against Shane's, and takes the weights right out of his hands. He mouths an exaggerated Thank you, and then winks.
Shane can feel his mouth hanging open, his eyes glued to the man in front of him. But he can still feel the touch, the tingle left across the back of his hand from where Ilya's fingers brushed his own.
He's already launched into his own workout as Shane recovers. He wanders back to the rack and selects his next set of weights, barely registering anything except the man beside him as he returns to his bench.
The workout continues like this, Shane cycles through his routine and Ilya watches taking any opportunity to interject himself. He asks about weights and reps and the order of Shane's routine. Eventually Shane turns off his music, pocketing his earbuds.
Ilya grins as Shane answers seriously, trying to be as helpful as possible. He doesn't want to look like an idiot and Ilya certainly looks like he knows his way around a gym just fine. But he answers the questions anyway.
Shane doesn't clock the moment the energy shifts or the way that Ilya comes to stand beside his bench to spot him and let's his hands linger near just a bit too close to Shane's biceps.
But suddenly it's like the air has been charged with electricity.
Shane glances up at Ilya who stands above him, just behind the bench, as he finishes his set.
"Thanks, want to switch?" He asks, words nearly catching in his throat.
"mmm no, I like this position better."
Shane swallows dryly, trying to ignore the way the words hit his chest, the images that jump to mind.
"Got it, right, uhh well" Shane casts around for something to say. He's nearly finished with his workout but he has no motivation to leave. He could probably workout till his hands bleed if it meant having this gorgous man stand behind him the whole time.
"I'll let you finish your workout i guess." Shane mumbles, nodding back to Ilya's abandoned bench.
Ilya shrugs, leaning on one hand against Shane's bench. It brings his face closer to Shane's. He can smell his sweat mixed with the musky deodarent he's wearing, it smells like the one Shane uses.
"I think I am done working out."
Shane sucks in a quick breath and nods. He glances down at the weights still in his hands, resting again against his thighs. "Same, yeah."
He goes to stand but Ilya is suddenly in front of him, lifting the weights out of his hands like their nothing, like they aren't 100lb dumbbells.
Shane can feel his dick harden immediately. As if he hadn't been keeping himself from getting hard for 20 minutes through sheer willpower alone, this does it. Ilya walks away and Shane gets a full shameless view of his ass again. The weights are re-racked and Shane is on his feet, scrambling around the bench as Ilya turns back to him.
Ilya's smile turns deadly as he takes in Shane's new position.
"Want to grab a smoothie upstairs?" Ilya asks, stopping just short of the bench. His arms are crossed over his broad muscled chest. "Is good after a workout i hear."
Shane bites his bottom lip. Fighting to hold Ilya's gaze as his erected strains at his compression shorts.
"I think I have to go actually, go home."
Ilya nods, eyes closing for a moment.
"You live close, Shane?" He asks. Shane's name rolls of his tongue in a way that feels dirty, too intimate for the weight room at the gym. "Because I live very close, and I also have very good blender to make smoothies in my kitchen."
Shane knows he's staring again, staring and nodding and maybe almost drooling also.
It takes a moment for Shane's thoughts to catch up with him. Then he's fumbling around with his words again. Is he being propositioned. Is this guy inviting him home from the gym? Is he about to agree to go home with this guy in the middle of a tuesday?
"Okay, yeah." He hears himself say.
Ilya smiles and nods toward the locker room, grabbing his own water bottle as he turns away from Shane. Shane follows behind quickly.
He throws his hoodie on over his gym clothes, tugging it down aggressively to hide his erection as Ilya appears around the corner again, still smirking in that devastating way.
"I drive." He smiles producing a set of keys.
Shane frowns for a second before quickly nodding his agreement.
He has his bag in hand as they slip past the front desk of the gym together, heading into the parking lot. Shane give one glance back at the two people behind the counter before jogging after Ilya who has already opened the drivers side door of the big black Porsche SUV parked outside the gym.
Shane climbs in the passenger side and holds his bag stiffly over his still hard dick. The seat is too far back for his liking, but he doesn't complain.
Ilya reaches over and plucks the gym bag out of Shane's lap as the car roars to life. He tosses it unceremoniously over the seats and into the back of the car as Shane protests.
But Shane's words die on his tongue as Ilya revs the engine and peels out of the gym parking lot.
They're pulling into a gated driveway only a few minutes later. Shane glances between Ilya and the massive house in front of him.
"Nice place."
"Thanks I had it built." Ilya smirks. He reaches back and grabs Shane's gym bag and then climbs out of the car.
Shane follows him in through the garage, past two more fancy cars and storage racks filled with hockey gear which Shane pointedly ignores.
Only a few steps into the house and Ilya is backing Shane up against the wall. He crowds him, leaning down to capture Shane's lips in an aggressive, hungry kiss. It's like he's been waiting hours for this.
Shane feels the heat from earlier multiplied by a million. It's like his whole body is on fire as he kisses Ilya back just as greedily.
It's like he can't get enough. Shane grasps at Ilya's clothes, reaches up into his sweat-damp hair and fists it, pulling him closer than humanely possible. Shane opens his mouth and Ilya's tongue slips in, deepening the kiss.
They're both desperate for each other.
"Shane." Ilya groans into his mouth. Shane answers with his own moan of pleasure as Ilya's fingers grip his jaw gently.
"You said, smoothies?" Shane manages between the onslaught of kisses.
Ilya's deep rumbling laugh sends a twinge of pleasure straight through Shane's body. "Later."
"Fine." Shane manages as Ilya attaches his mouth to Shane's neck, licking the spot just below his ear that feels so good. Shane's eyes roll back in pleasure.
"Come." Ilya commands finally. He detaches himself from Shane enough to grab his hand to lead him through the house.
They emerge into a big private living room. A row of windows face out into a backyard surrounded by thick trees.
Ilya pulls Shane around to the front of him and gently pushes him down onto the lush couch below.
Shane is breathing heavy still as he looks up at Ilya, towering over him, and raises one brow.
"Is closer than the bedroom." Ilya shrugs. Then he's on top of Shane, not giving him time to reply as he bites down on his bicep.
Ilya get's Shane out of his hoodie and his gym shirt and stares down at Shane's smooth chest. Shane stares up at the look on Ilya's face, the lust in his eyes. "красивый" Beautiful.
"Have you ever been with a man before?" Ilya asks, eyes glassy with want.
Shane stares up at him, gazing flicking between his hazel eyes and the shape of his perfect lips. He wants those lips back on him immediately. He doesn't want to think about anything except those lips.
"No." He breathes.
This seems to provoke something in the man over him. He nearly growls as he dives back toward Shane. Lips against his, kissing with a renewed fervor.
Shane tugs up on Ilya's shirt till the man breaks away and helps him guide his clothes off. Then they're chest are bare against each other. The feeling of his skin is intoxicating.
Ilya props himself up over Shane with one hand above his head on the couch, as the other explores its way down Shane's body and to the waist of his shorts.
"Okay?" Ilya asks against Shane's lips as his fingers tug at the elastic.
Shane nods quickly, his dick still straining aginst his pants. He's so hard it nearly hurts. Just the thought of Ilya's big hands around him are enough to send him reeling.
"Yes yes, please." He begs.
Ilya smirks, burying his face against Shane's neck, breathing him in, as he slowly slides his hand down Shane's abdomen. Then his hands are there, wrapping warmly around the base of his cock, then around his balls.
Shane can't help the guttural sound that escapes him. "Fuck" Ilya breathes into Shane's neck.
Then his hand is gone. Ilya is reaching over him, pulling something out of a drawer. A moment later, Shane realizes is lube.
"You fuck a lot of guys on your couch?" Shane asks through ragged breaths.
Ilya glances up to meet his gaze but says nothing.
Shane doesn't get to follow up his question with anymore digging because Ilya's got his hand in his pants again.
Shane arches off the couch as he begins to stroke him, the pace fast.
He feels like he could come just from Ilya's hand as the man pants over him, breath hot against his neck. But he wants more.
Shane pushes against Ilya's chest, slowing his pace as Ilya pulls back to look at him. Its unspoken, the request, the want.
Ilya wraps his arm around Shane and suddenly Shane is on top. He spends a moment, letting his tongue explore Ilya's mouth before he slowly slides down his body. Shane takes Ilya's shorts down with him, eyes flicking up to meet his for confirmation. Ilya nods and a moment later, Shane's pulled his pants down to reveal him. He's big and rigid and it's making Shane's mouth water.
"fuck" He breaths before he takes Ilya in his mouth.
Sucking him off is like a revelation. Shane grabs the base of his dick, applying pressure where hes mouth doesn't reach.
Ilya squirms below him, failing to hold himself back from bucking up into Shane's throat. But Shane likes it, he takes him in, lets Ilya fuck his mouth.
By the time Shane is pulling off of Ilya he's cursing and gripping the couch like a vice.
"Need you." Is all Shane says before Ilya is sitting up, pushing Shane back down and pulling his shorts the rest of the way off so their both naked, bared to each other here on the couch.
"So good." Ilya murmurs as he applies more lube and begins to work Shane open.
He peppers kisses over Shane's chest as he gently works, luxuriating in the process of it, in the tiny noises he illicits from Shane. Below him Shane grasps at the plain of Ilya's back, pulling him ever closer.
When Ilya lines up to enter him. They lock eyes again. Shane stares at the man over him, his lips parted in lust. There's something deeper behind those hazel eyes too. Something that reaches out and grips Shane's chest.
Then Shane is full of Ilya and he's seeing stars as he adjust to the size of him. It's slow at first, but quickly builds into a sprint. Their both slick with sweat, minds fuzzy with want as they crash their bodies together chasing a high.
Shane can feel the little raised lines on Ilya's back already forming as he approaches his climax. Ilya's face is back in Shane's neck, panting and grunting with pleasure as he slams into him.
"I'm - fuck - Ilya - I'm close" Shane's voice comes out breathy as his back arches up, angling for more contact.
"Come for me." Ilya's deep voice reverberates around Shane's brain before he slams over the edge, Ilya's name on his lips.
A minute later Ilya is following him, a heady groan marking the moment he hits his climax.
Ilya collapses over Shane. Their chests stick together and Ilya's lips find Shane's throat. The kisses are lazy and sweet.
They lay for a long moment like this. The only sound around them their own heavy breathing. Then Shane breaks it with a laugh that's closer to a giggle.
"Whattt" Ilya says between kisses.
Shane shakes his head still laughing. He tugs at Ilya's hair to angle his fact towards his own then leans down and kisses him again.
"You're ridiculous." He says through a smile as he pulls back.
"You liked it." Ilya says, straining forward trying to reach Shane's lips again and failing. "moy lyubimy" He whines when he doesn't get another kiss from Shane.
With a roll of his eyes Shane adjusts his position so he can press his lips against Ilya's again.
"Pretty good for never fucking a man before." Ilya prods, poking Shane in the ribs.
Shane swats his hand away, already feeling the blush creep back onto his cheeks. "Shut up, it was the heat of the moment."
"Yes and was very hot too." Ilya growls.
"You owe me a smoothie by the way." Shane says wriggling out from under the weight of Ilya. He moans as Shane tries to get away from him.
"noo stay."
"Ilya, we're disgusting."
"Shower together, then smoothie." Ilya promises with another kiss to Shane's chest.
Shane smiles down at his husband and rolls his eyes. "Lets go then."