Chapter Text
Ilya woke first, slowly emerging from the haze of sleep to the dim light of the present. He stretched his legs, savoring the warmth and softness of their bed. Shane was still asleep on his side of the bed, laying on his stomach with his head turned away from his husband. The blanket they shared was resting across his lower back only, leaving the wide expanse of his shoulders open for Ilya’s eyes to enjoy. They rose and fell with each slow breath.
Ilya rolled to plaster himself against the exposed skin. He wound his arm around Shane, holding his shoulder gently to pull him closer. Shane stirred at the movement, humming sleepily. Ilya was hard already and had been since he woke up. He let Shane come to peacefully, just kept his nose pressed into the crook of Shane’s neck so he could feel his breathing. When Shane’s hand finally came up to rest over Ilya’s own, Ilya finally let himself nudge his boner a little more insistently onto Shane’s ass.
“Good morning to you too,” Shane slurred into the pillow.
“Is not a good morning yet,” Ilya whispered back, pulling Shane closer. Shane sighed and drew his legs up so he was laying properly on his side.
“So needy,” he teased, but he was pushing himself back into Ilya, grinding against his erection. He turned his head and Ilya met the motion, locking their lips together in a slow kiss. They both tasted a little gross, stale spit and sleep on their tongues, but it never mattered a dozen mornings before any more than it mattered now. Ilya pushed his tongue past Shane’s lips, curling it around Shane’s own and pressing into the crevasses of his mouth. They had turned now so Shane was almost on his back, Ilya leaning over him.
The dull heat in his groin was growing into a hot throb as his cock pressed against Shane’s hip. He was naked already, having slept that way. Shane, infuriatingly, always insisted on wearing at least briefs to bed. It was not however a prohibitive obstacle and Ilya wasted no time in running a hand down the soft plains of Shane’s chest and stomach to dive past the trimmed wiry hair and gripped his hardening cock. Shane reacted beautifully, softly grunting into Ilya’s parted mouth and pressing up, hot, against his palm.
“Mm, I have to go,” he groaned as Ilya palmed him firmly, coaxing his cock to erection. He did not mean it as a wait or a stop. By now, Ilya knew that any outward expression of desperation was an explicit request to keep going, make me feel better than good. His own cock kicked in immediate interest, but he let Shane work himself up first, rutting into Ilya’s hand underneath the sheets. Ilya sucked on his ear, nipped along his jaw which was dusted with the shortest of morning stubble.
When a bead of moisture smeared onto Ilya’s fingers and Shane moaned properly, Ilya withdrew his hand and moved impatiently to shuck off Shane’s briefs. Shane’s hands drifted from Ilya’s back to his own waist band as he lifted his hips and helped Ilya undress him. Ilya let him kick away the fabric and the remaining blankets as he reached around to grab the lube from the bed side.
His own erect cock flopped onto his stomach, then bobbed in the air when he turned back onto his side to face Shane. Shane was splayed, cock rigid against his stomach. Laying on his back Ilya could clearly see the slight bulge of Shane’s bladder where it sat just above his pubic bone. He tried to keep his mind focused on the task at hand even as a hundred very horny thoughts ran through his mind at the sight. He may not know the details yet but today he definitely had plans for Shane.
His husband, clueless to his fate, planted his feet on the bed and widened his legs so Ilya could easily slip his now-lubed finger into his crease. Shane signed as the first finger slipped in easily, tilting his hips up so Ilya could drive it all the way up to his knuckle. Almost absently-mindedly Shane reached down to grip Ilya’s cock in his hand.
“Love when you touch me,” Ilya inhaled sharply as Shane slowly squeezed him up and down. He slid in another finger, stretching Shane’s entrance.
“Love you inside me,” Shane moaned in response.
Ilya twisted his fingers until he found the bundle of nerves he was looking for and Shane’s fist on his dick tightened almost painfully. Satisfied, he extracted his fingers and tapped Shane’s hip lightly. Shane rolled obediently onto his side while Ilya smeared enough lube on his cock. Then he plastered himself against Shane’s back, slotted their hips together, and notched himself inside of Shane.
They both sighed as he bottomed out, sliding in with ease. He held his pelvis still as Shane stretched to accommodate him, snaking an arm around Shane to hold onto his shoulder, pressing him down onto his cock. The only sounds were their heavier than usual breathing, the soft kiss of Ilya’s lips against Shane’s shoulder. Shane was velvet around his cock, made for Ilya. Ilya began to rock his hips slowly, reveling in the drag and breathy noises Shane made in response.
He set a slow but deep rhythm, focusing on pressing himself in as deep as this position allowed. Shane reached down to touch himself, utilizing the already generous amount of pre-cum that had leaked from his cock in the meantime. His pace was a little more urgent than Ilya’s slow thrusts, and it did not take long for him to teeter over the edge.
“I’m gonna cum,” Shane announced with a groan.
“And what about this?” Ilya asked, his hand coming to press gently on Shane’s bladder, earning him a breathy gasp.
“Yeah, might pee too,” Shane moaned, his hand growing hurried around his cock.
“Don’t,” Ilya commanded, “cum for me, but don't pee.”
“Oh fuck,” Shane moaned as he clenched around Ilya and came into his fist. Ilya kept up his pace, still slow and gentle. He liked to be mean, even cruel in his domination of Shane, but he would not be unfair. And drilling into Shane’s bladder while denying him release was certainly the latter. Shane groaned through his orgasm, his fist now secured at the base of his cock as he staved off the trickle of piss Ilya knew was wanting to escape by now.
He paused his fucking with his balls pressed firmly against Shane’s ass, watching as Shane squeezed himself and panted with the effort of holding his bladder. Ilya waited but not a single drop of pee escaped. Only the last dredges of Shane’s orgasm oozed from his cock, dripped onto the sheets below.
“Perfect,” he commended, pressing a loving kiss to Shane’s shoulder as Shane released his cock and dropped his arm limply onto the sheets below him. Ilya reached over and lifted Shane’s hand gingerly by his wrist, bringing it to his mouth so he could lick the cum that still clung to Shane’s fingers. Shane hummed in appreciative surprise, pushing his fingers into Ilya’s mouth so he could suck them properly.
When Ilya was satisfied with his cleaning he placed Shane’s hand back onto the sheets, resumed his grip on his shoulder, and began again to rock into Shane’s spent body. He kept the same gentle pace as before, not trying to nudge too much or too rough against Shane’s bladder. Still he knew every thrust was probably jostling his bloated stomach, if Shane’s soft groans were anything to go by. He was too blissed out to do anything but let Ilya use his hole.
Watching Shane cum and struggling against his own bladder had been, as always, very hot, but still Ilya took his time to reach his own orgasm. He was not the stallion of his younger years. A hard fuck this early in the morning would retire him until the evening at least. There was no rush, and he was not eager to leave the heavenly feeling of Shane, hot and slick and pliant around him. When the heat in his gut did finally coil tight enough to snap, Ilya came just as drawn out as their fucking had been.
“Oh god Shane,” he moaned into Shane’s ear, gripped his shoulders and curled around him, pressing himself deep as he rutted forward into Shane’s hole one last time. Warmth exploded in his groin and he felt his cock pulse against Shane’s soft walls. Shane groaned again, pressing himself back into Ilya and intertwining their legs as Ilya rode out his pleasure.
“You make me feel so good,” Ilya praised, his voice strung out and syrupy as he came down. Shane reached up to run a hand through his curls, which were damp with sweat. Ilya kissed down his neck, onto his shoulder, grasped his wrist so he could kiss there too.
“Mm, you are sticky,” Ilya noted as he held Shane’s hand.
“I’m still covered in cum,” Shane protested, looking down to where his soft cock was tacky with orgasm.
“And full of it,” Ilya teased, wriggling his hips a little as his cock softened inside of Shane.
“We need to shower,” Shane pushed again.
“Mm, wait one second,” Ilya said as he pulled himself out, his cock followed by a healthy trickle of his cum that spilled down the curve of Shane’s ass. “Beautiful,” he groaned, pushing the head of his cock into its own spend, pressing up against Shane’s mildly gaping hole. His tip slipped in, earning a grunt from Shane. He wanted to press all the way back inside, but even his own cock was too sensitive for that.
He grabbed a tissue and wiped up most of the spend before he pulled Shane up to sitting, kissed him a little more, and got up to run the shower. Shane stripped the sheets and joined him in the bathroom but hesitated at the shower door. In his post-climax haze Ilya had almost forgotten, but with a jolt of excitement he remembered. A sly smile broke across his face.
“I thought you wanted to shower?” he asked innocently. Shane glared at him.
“Asshole.”
“Mm, is there a problem?”
“You tell me.”
This was Ilya’s favorite part. “Tell you what?”
“Can I go yet?” Shane’s cheeks pinked up as he asked.
“Can you hold it?”
Shane glared at him, his frustration evident in his face and in the way his thighs were clenching tight together. He eyed the hot shower warily.
“Maybe,” he finally confessed.
Ilya just smiled and held out his hand. Shane took it and stepped into the shower, careful to avoid the water. Ilya could not help the bubble of laughter that escaped him at the sight of Shane side-stepping the stream like it might burn him.
“Fuck you, asshole,” Shane spat as he stood in the farthest corner away from the water.
“I’m sorry,” Ilya said, but he was laughing even as he apologized, “you are acting like a cat getting a bath.” Shane went so red with anger and embarrassment Ilya thought he might explode. “Moy lyubimiy, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please,” but he was still smiling and chuckling.
“You could at least make it colder,” Shane pouted in the corner, still glaring at his husband. “I feel gross.”
“Okay, I could,” Ilya said, finally gaining a semblance of control over his amusement. “But that would be too easy, yes?” Shane’s annoyance flickered, replaced for a second with something more worried. “Hm, yes, too easy,” Ilya pondered aloud, eyes glinting mischievously.
“So what?” Shane asked, still trying to act defiant, but his voice wavered ever so slightly.
Ilya cast his eyes over Shane’s body, his stomach and dick tacky with cum. It made Shane squirm, which gave Ilya great delight. He reached around and turned down the temperature until the water was a little less than luke warm, cold enough to not stimulate Shane’s bladder beyond his control.
“Thank you-” Shane began, but Ilya held up his hand and approached Shane slowly. Water ran off his body in rivulets, down his large muscles as he backed Shane against the wall. He reached down and squeezed his sex. Shane looked at him with apprehension.
“I need somewhere to go,” Ilya announced, now fully back into the role of mean dom. He crowded against Shane but did not touch him.
“I understand,” Shane gulped, moving to slide down the wall. But Ilya stopped him, grabbed him by the armpits and stood him straight again. They were an inch apart.
“I’m going,” he held his cock, ready to relieve himself, “right here,” and tapped his soft flesh against Shane’s cock. That was the only warning Shane got before Ilya let himself go, a hot stream of piss trickling and then splashing against Shane’s own desperate cock.
“Oh fuck,” Shane moaned as he scrambled to control his own bladder’s response, pressing his thighs together and squeezing his cock hard. Ilya let him, because he was being cruel enough, teasing Shane with the shower, the hot stream piss, and his own satisfaction of release in face of Shane’s denial. Ilya let himself groan softly as he peed, pressing forward so that he was soaking the whole of Shane’s groin.
“I’m leaking,” Shane cried, although it was not possible to tell with Ilya’s piss obscuring any of Shane’s. Shane threw his head back and groaned in desperation as he struggled to halt the leak. Ilya took the opportunity to dive into his neck, sucking right over the pulse point.
Shane panted and whimpered until Ilya’s stream tapered off. Ilya pulled back and shook off the last drops of pee from his cock. He sighed with relief and looked up to find Shane was staring at the ceiling, his hand still gripping his cock tightly. He took Shane’s chin in his hand and forced him to meet his eyes. He said nothing but looked intently, asking silently.
“I held it,” Shane confessed weakly. “Mostly”
“Good,” Ilya whispered softly. “Good boy.” Shane went redder than he already was. “Now you shower.” Ilya moved away to rinse his dick off before he stepped out of the shower.
“Wait,” Shane’s voice echoed behind him. He turned.
“Yes?”
Shane was looking at him desperately, any brattyness from earlier gone. He was right where Ilya hoped to find him, obedient and anxious for instruction.
“When can I go?”
Ilya shrugged. “Whenever you can’t hold it anymore.”
Shane gaped at him, but Ilya was already back at the sink, wrapping a towel around his waist and grabbing his shaving cream. Ilya watched discreetly from the mirror as realization dawned on Shane’s face, and he too turned, resigned, to clean himself in the now-cool shower.
Good, Ilya thought to himself. Today will be fun.