Work Text:
Soft golden light filtered in through the open blinds of the bedroom window, bathing the room in warmth. Shane slowly blinked his eyes open and sighed, realizing he'd slept way later than he meant to. He'd gotten back from Ottawa a while ago, but must have been more tired from his brand meetings than he'd thought, because one moment Ilya was helping him out of his shoes and socks and pushing him back on the bed, and the next...
Well, he must have fucking passed out, because his ass didn't feel like he'd let Ilya rail it (and him) within an inch of his life. Plus, his skin was buzzing, tension running through his neck and shoulders and desire fluttering low in his belly, the way he always felt when he'd been dreaming something delicious right before waking, or gone too long without his husband between his legs. Which, he was being dramatic because it really hadn't been that long since they'd last had sex.
Or had it? He'd gotten up early this morning to get to his meetings in Ottawa, so no morning sex. Yesterday had been a bad day for Ilya, so they hadn't done anything. The day before... Fuck, had that also been a bad day? It was ridiculous, but with their sex drives going 200kph at all times, a break from sex didn't usually go on this long. So, that was on Shane's list of things to rectify as soon as humanly possible. As soon as he located his husband.
Shane could hear the sound of soft music, and the occasional clang or bump of something in the kitchen. Usually Ilya woke him up so they could cook together, but apparently he'd opted to let him sleep. Shane stretched, adjusted his semi, and padded out to see what his husband had gotten up to while he'd been dead to the world.
The first thing Shane noticed was the music... It was different. Not just different for Ilya, who usually preferred rap or pop songs that set Shane's teeth on edge and basically all sounded the same, but different in general. The music was smoother, older, more... romantic, if that was a thing.
He rounded the corner and paused, drinking in his surprising find like a man in the desert presented with an oasis. His husband was... radiant.
Ilya was cooking, flowing effortlessly between chopping and seasoning whatever was in the sauté pan on the stove. And he was dancing. Shane's husband was moving his hips to the music and turning on one foot like he was born to flow, making it look effortless as he moved to the beat. Shane was suddenly so overwhelmed, he felt like he had to taste, or maybe sit down from the sudden head rush. His mouth flooded with saliva. He was so overcome he couldn't even decide what he wanted, whether he wanted to lick Ilya or just hold him tightly.
"Won't you place your sweet lips to miiiine..." Ilya mumbled, swiveling to turn on the overhead fan as whatever he was cooking gave a loud sizzle. "Won't you say you love me, all of the the tiiiiime..." God, his voice.
"I love you..." Shane breathed out, the words punching out of his chest before he could control them. Ilya jumped, nearly splattering himself with their dinner.
"Shit! ты меня испугал, моя любовь."
"Мне жаль" Shane apologized, though it was entirely too breathy to be believable. He swallowed, letting his eyes track over his husband. The sound was audible as the song ended and the next track took its time coming up. Ilya's eyes darkened, and a smirk stole over his lips.
"Y-you were dancing." Shane said.
"Yes. I do this."
"No, you don't." Shane argued. "I-I've never seen you."
"Psh, I dance with you at the club all the time." The pan behind him sputtered, and Ilya reluctantly turned to their dinner. Shane could see now it was the ingredients to some sort of pasta. His stomach rumbled. God, he was hungry. But maybe more for something else, now.
"That's different. At least, I think it is." He continued. Shane managed to unglue his feet and drift over to the island, pouring himself a glass of water on his way. It was probably better to keep some distance between them at the moment, or he might not be liable for his actions.
The music continued, playing another old song in the same vein. Shane didn't know music at all, but for some reason these classic songs were doing it for him, fizzing and crackling under his skin. Ilya wasn't dancing now, but he still moved his hips subtly with the beat and it was utterly entrancing Shane. Ilya's jeans were... woof.
"Chicken or fish, котёнок?"
Shane's blatant ogling of his husband's ass was interrupted by Ilya turning to him with a raised eyebrow.
"Shane?"
"Huh?" He felt his cheeks heat.
"Oh, I am sorry. Am I interrupting something with my boring dinner plans? I ask if you want chicken or fish with pasta." Ilya asked. And then the motherfucker winked.
There wasn't enough oxygen in the entirety of Canada to sustain him in that moment. Shane Hollander was going to expire at his own kitchen counter, and Ilya would absolutely be implicit in his murder. Dear god.
"Chicken, please." Shane whimpered into the safety of his hands, which were covering his tomato-red cheeks.
"I think so too, will go well with this. I already heated up grill."
Ilya turned off the sauce burner, then moved to the fridge, where a bag of marinating chicken was already waiting for him. He hummed along with the music as he gathered the grilling implements. The song flipped again, moving into something quiet. Shane sent up a quiet thanks, since he probably should calm himself the fuck down.
"Come outside with me?" Ilya asked, one hand on the patio door. Shane noticed a beer and a ginger ale had joined the other items accumulated in his arms.
"Yeah, just give me a second." Shane replied. He wasn't entirely sure he could walk in a straight line yet.
"Oh-kay." Ilya singsonged, shutting the door behind him. Shane turned and watched as Ilya deposited everything by the BBQ and then pulled the remote to their sound system out of his pocket, clicking it a couple times. The music playing softly shifted so it was also playing on the patio. A man was singing wistfully about a woman who was there and also not, and even though Shane had definitely never had this sort of experience with a woman before, his mind was racing alongside the lyrics, conjuring up blonde curls and shy smiles...
"Just a fool to believe I have anything she needs... She's like the wind..."
Shane looked up from the floor, his eyes drawn like a magnet to meet Ilya's through the glass. Ilya slowly took a sip of his beer, keeping their eyes locked. Shane was sure he was thinking of similar things, of hotel rooms and swallowed promises, fast blowjobs and empty sheets afterwards. All that wasted time that was horrible to look back on, but also somehow some of the best time of his life because it got him here...
Ilya jerked his head slightly, summoning Shane out to the porch. And he was powerless to do anything otherwise. Shane moved like a sleepwalker, thankfully remembering how to step down onto the deck properly before shuffling over to his usual chair. The ginger ale was already waiting for him. He set his water glass down next to it.
He could see Ilya watching him out of the side of his eyes, turning just his head to Shane in that languid, predatory way he'd always looked at him with. It exposed his throat, the golden hour lighting catching the sharp contours of his jaw and every single damn muscle running down his neck to his- And Ilya was smirking too, damn it. He knew exactly what he was doing.
"Jesus Christ." Shane whispered to himself.
And then, as if in answer to his seemingly innocuous prayer, Ilya began dancing again. Slowly, moving his hips and shoulders ever so softly as he put chicken on the grill. Shane drank up every second of motion as Ilya's ass moved in front of him, practically hypnotizing him. The song reached its climax, and he almost sobbed from relief as air could finally enter his lungs again.
Ilya looked at Shane, eyebrows raised.
"Nothing. Nothing." Shane waved him off. "Good song."
"Yes. Is movie soundtrack. I watched it while you were gone yesterday. It is making me feel good. You too, I think."
"Maybe." Worst time for a voice crack ever. Ilya smirked.
The beat started for the next song, and Shane swallowed hard. Oh no. Ilya was watching him again, eyes flicking over every part of him and seeing more than an X-Ray or CAT-scan ever could. He couldn't have hidden his arousal if he wanted to, he felt like he was going to fucking combust. Where was the cold ginger ale?
"I've been meaning to tell you, I've got this feeling that won't subside..."
Shane gulped at his soda, trying to breathe normally. God, was he sweating? It wasn't even that hot outside. How was he this fucking aroused? Ilya had his back to him again, flipping the chicken. Except... Was he leaning forward? Sticking his ass out at Shane. He barely bit back a groan.
Ilya looked over his shoulder again, then lazily pivoted toward Shane, sticking a hip out. He drew his toe around the deck in a circle, then did some bizarre side step almost like twizzles on the ice, his feet pointing in and out, in and out. Shane was mesmerized.
He continued, sticking the hand that wasn't holding the spatula into his pocket and stepping to the side, and back. Then slowly he bent his knees and swirled his hips. Shane somehow managed to rip his eyes away from his husband's crotch to see he was watching Shane, that damned smirk still attached to his lips.
Ilya shook it off, bopping his head to the beat and sticking his tongue out at Shane. He turned back to the chicken.
"Why did you never tell me?" Shane asked, staring up at his husband like he was a modern wonder of the world.
"Tell you what?" Ilya asked. Condensation from his beer bottle ran down his hand as he took another drink, and Shane was seized by the sudden urge to lick it off his fingers and wrist. Better yet, he wanted to just be that water, rolling over Ilya's skin. That insane thought made him laugh aloud.
"You are behaving very strangely today, Shanya."
"I know. I know. I'm just... Fuck, I love you. So much."
"I know this. You have hungry eyes, like the song."
"Can you blame me?"
Ilya closed the lid of the grill and set the spatula aside. He turned to Shane once again, and wiggled his eyebrows. Then, he honest-to-god began twerking. Right there on the deck.
"Stop!" Shane protested. Ilya raised his hands up by his head like he was shaking his ass at the club, biting his lip in a mocking way. He worked his way over to Shane and he couldn't resist reaching out and slapping his ass.
"You like my dancing, Hollander?" Ilya grinned, leaning over him for a kiss.
"No. I mean yes, but no. I liked what you were doing before." Shane said, trying to get air between Ilya's searing kisses. His massive boyfriend crawled into his lap, making the deck chair creak concerningly. But Shane unfortunately knew that it could, and had, withstood worse.
"What was I doing before?" Ilya asked playfully, shaking his hips slightly and making Shane moan.
"You know, like... Real dancing. Not throwing it back on me in the club, or whatever the hell they call it these days."
Ilya snorted. "Throwing it back? You sound ancient."
The song ended, and Shane sighed wistfully. Ilya smiled and pulled the sound system remote back out. He clicked the skip button, and a louder song blasted out of the speakers. He scowled and skipped again. What flowed out of the speaker next could only be described as auditory sex. Saxophone and bass spilled over Shane, flooding his entire body with pulsing need.
"You don't own me, I'm not just one of your many toys..." The singer sounded like he was hopped up on adrenaline, sex, and secrets. This was fucking indecent.
"You don't own me, don't say I can't go with other boys..." How was this song written about Ilya, like, years before he was even born?
Ilya slithered off Shane's lap, trailed a hand up his chest until it was reaching in the air. He bent his knees and swiveled his hips, bigger and slower this time. Then he reached for the edge of his black tank top, slowly peeling the edge up his chest between two fingers. He twirled the shirt and then tossed it at Shane, who unabashedly pressed it to his face for a deep inhale. It smelled like sunshine and Ilya. When Shane looked up, Ilya was quietly mouthing the words to the song, his face absolutely radiant as he put on his show.
And he was putting on a fucking show. If Shane made it through the next five minutes without cumming in his shorts, it would be a shock.
"You don't own me, don't tie me down, cuz I'll never stay..." Ilya raised the remote and paused the music.
"Point of protest. I like being "tied down". I am where I want to be, do not save." And then he clicked the song back on. Shane couldn't help it, he started laughing. Ilya sauntered over and covered his face in little kisses, despite Shane's efforts to playfully swat him away. And then Ilya was on his knees in front of him, and oh...
Ilya rolled his neck slowly, bracing himself on the arms of Shane's chair and leaning back as he completed his circle. He arched, then tightened his abs to pull himself back up as he shimmied his shoulders. He gave him one smoldering look, and then reached past Shane and took hold of the water glass, lifting it high above him, and...
Fuck.
Ilya slowly poured the water over his face, and Shane watched as it ran down his jaw to his pecs, rolling down his abs in rivulets. Ilya slowly shook his head, showering Shane with water. The singer let out a scream on the track and Ilya mimicked it, biting his lip before surging forward and grabbing Shane's thighs. He trailed his hands down Shane's legs, biting his lip. His hands slid off Shane and onto himself, long fingers chasing water droplets as he crossed his arms, feeling himself and swaying slightly.
The song began to wind down, and Ilya flopped forward, panting as he rested his head on Shane's thigh as he often did.
Shane whimpered into the silence between songs. Ilya grinned up at him.
"How are you so fucking sexy?" Shane wondered aloud. Ilya got to his feet and went to the grill. The next song started, bass thumping.
"This overload..."
"Is good song for you, Sweetheart."
"Fuck off." Shane covered his face in his hands. He was so hard it was actually starting to hurt. His husband had just gone full Magic Mike on him, and was now back to grilling chicken as if they'd just discussed the weather.
"This is your song, come on and show me your moves while I finish our dinner." Ilya said, his eyes playful and daring him to argue. Which was exactly what Shane was going to do.
"I can't dance. You know it."
Ilya blew a raspberry at him and started pulling chicken off the grill.
"You can get on knees like song suggests." He said after a moment. Shane smiled.
"Name the time and place, baby." He said softly. Ilya turned his head so fast it looked like it could have hurt. He narrowed his eyes, looking Shane up and down.
"On second thought, after dinner maybe." Ilya determined, and used the remote to swap the song. Shane smiled. He watched as Ilya deftly switched off the grill and closed it before balancing the pan of chicken and all the tools he'd brought out with him.
"Inside or outside?"
"Inside." Shane said, licking his lips. "I-if that's okay with you, that is."
"Da. Of course." Ilya noticed the movement of his mouth, and his eyes smoldered. Shane had a hard time believing they would actually manage to eat dinner at this point. He struggled to his feet, adjusted his painful erection, and followed his husband inside. Ilya set everything down in the kitchen and turned to watch him approach, leaning on the counter with half-lidded eyes. The music pulsed, and Shane swallowed hard.
Ilya held out a hand to Shane, who was powerless to resist. Ilya pulled him close.
"Dance with me, baby." He breathed into Shane's neck.
"Ilya, I told you..." Shane protested.
"Well here I am, honey, cry to me..."
"Shhh. Just relax. Let me." Ilya slotted their hips together, one hard thigh between Shane's. Shane took a deep breath and tried to go boneless and loose. Ilya began to slowly move their hips together, small movements at first. One hand gripped Shane's hip hard, pinning them together. The other hand found Shane's and drew it to Ilya's bare chest, resting it over his heart. Then his fingers ghosted over Shane's arm to his back.
Slowly, Ilya dipped Shane. He kissed his neck, ignoring the obvious hitches in Shane's breathing. Then they were back upright, and Ilya began to move Shane across the kitchen floor, driving him with his hips. Back, then to the side, then forward. Following some sort of dance step and slowly rotating as they did. What was this, foxtrot? Rumba? Shane had no idea. How the hell did Ilya know this?
They paused, and Ilya lifted his arm, pushing Shane underneath it in a turn. Shane shuffled through it, trying not to be embarrassed. Ilya pushed him a little bit further and pulled his hips back, so they were swaying with Shane's back pressed to Ilya's chest.
"Don't you feel like crying? Cry to me..."
"Seriously, where the hell did you learn this?" Shane breathed as Ilya began to kiss his neck, rocking them to the beat.
"College girlfriend?"
"You didn't go to college."
"I want to win at Centaurs charity ball?" Ilya tried, pressing kisses to Shane's shoulder.
"No, no. I do not believe you dance with Harris' mother this way." Shane protested. Ilya lifted his arm up and turned Shane again, pulling their hips back together so they could rock together in place as the song began to wind down.
"Don't you feel like cr-cr-cr-cry'in? Cry to me..."
"Ilya?"
"What?"
"The dancing?"
"Fine. Is something I do when you are gone. Watching boring American film makes me feel better." Ilya ducked his head, hiding in the curve of Shane's neck.
"Now I've... Had... The Time of My Life, no I never felt like this before..."
"Ilya..." Shane breathed. "Take me to bed. Now."
"Now? But Shanya, our dinner-"
"Fuck dinner. You've been edging me since I woke up."
Ilya scoffed into his neck. "Not on purpose. But I should not look at gift horse teeth."
"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth." Shane turned Ilya's head to kiss him.
"Good advice." Ilya replied, responding to Shane's lips with eager abandon. He began to walk Shane backwards in the direction of the couch, but Shane protested, dropping to his knees.
"What? No couch? You must fuck me in the middle of the floor like Montreal sex apartment?" Ilya's protests were silenced by Shane's hands, greedily slapping, pulling, and dragging him down.
"Cuz I've... Had... The Time of My Life, and I owe it all to you..."