Chapter 1: pretty in pink, all see through

The warm light of the late morning danced across the kitchen as Shane quietly made his way to the fridge, clad only in his boxers, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Ilya was still in bed, deep in sleep, so Shane tried not to disturb him while cooking himself breakfast. It wasn’t likely that Ilya would wake soon enough to enjoy the food while it was still warm, if his snores were any indication. Shane enjoyed his bland breakfast in the peace and quiet. He finished eating and carefully placed his dishes in the sink, managing to set them down without too much clattering. He grabbed his blanket off the back of the kitchen chair, wrapped it around himself, and padded across the floor towards the bedroom. There were a few emails he wanted to send this morning; he might as well get them out of the way while Ilya was out cold. Once he reached Ilya’s bedroom, Shane paused, considering the clothes strewn across the floor. Ilya’s clothes, from the previous night. Memories of said evening came back to Shane in a rush, causing his cheeks to warm. It had been too long since the two men had last seen each other, they had been so desperate to touch, to feel each other’s skin. Shane slipped out of his blanket, folding it gently and placing it on the bed. He leaned down, gathered the clothes off the floor, and walked over to the closet where he knew Ilya kept his hamper. Except, when he found the hamper, it was completely full. Not just full – overflowing to the point that the hamper itself was barely visible in the mountain of dirty laundry engulfing it. There was no way Shane could add to the pile without making more of a mess, and he didn’t want to put Ilya’s clothes on the floor or, worse yet, mix them with the clean ones. Another memory from last night popped into Shane’s head, triggering an annoyed groan. Ilya, the bastard, had definitely used Shane’s nice button up to wipe off his chest after they had both spilled across it. Normally Shane would insist that Ilya wash the shirt, given he was the one who made it nasty (though Ilya would certainly insist that it was both of them’s mess)….but the other memories had him feeling more generous than usual. He decided he would wash his shirt and some of Ilya’s clothes; two birds, one stone sort of thing. Something about the idea was making Shane’s skin warm and his chest ache slightly as he gathered up some clothes from Ilya’s hamper and carried them to the washing machine. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done laundry at Ilya’s apartment before. He’d stayed for long enough periods for it to be necessary a few times, though Ilya hadn’t ever thrown his own clothes in with Shane’s. But this was different from doing Ilya’s laundry for him. Still, there was something strangely intimate about the concept that Shane wasn’t willing to linger on this early in the morning. As he was placing Ilya’s clothes in the wash, a bright color standing out amongst the muted grey, navy, and black drew Shane out of his thoughts and back to the task at hand. There was something in Ilya’s laundry, something bright pink. Shane reached into the washing machine and fished out the item before dropping it like it had bitten him. It was a thong. A hot pink, lace thong. Shane was frozen, staring at the space between his palms which had just been filled by the underwear. A woman’s underwear. Which had been in his boyfriend’s laundry basket. Near the top. As in, put there relatively recently. Shane’s mind raced, his throat and chest felt like they might close up. He thought Ilya wanted to be exclusive, or at least that he would have told Shane about anyone else before having sex with him. But how would a girl’s panties end up in Ilya’s laundry? Shane could imagine quite a few scenarios, and none of them made him feel any better. Most of them made the hole in his chest yawn even wider. “You are doing laundry?” Ilya’s sleep-heavy voice cut through Shane’s thoughts. Shane turned around to find Ilya leaning against the doorway, rubbing at his eyes and yawning wide. Before Shane had the chance to respond, he saw Ilya’s eyes drop to the floor behind Shane. Ilya’s face colored, eyes widening. “What the fuck,” Shane said, emphatically. He teetered dangerously between rage, panic, and despair while he waited for Ilya to say something, anything, to explain. “You are doing… my laundry?” Ilya tried. At least he had the decency to sound a little embarrassed. His expression was hard to read, and he certainly wasn’t acting like Shane had caught him being unfaithful. “Ilya,” Shane warned. “What?” Ilya said, a bit impertinent, which he had absolutely no right to be. “Why is there a pair of women’s underwear in with your clothes?” Shane demanded, voice wavering slightly with barely restrained hurt and anger. “What, you like them?” “Ilya!” Several emotions passed over Ilya’s face, too quickly for Shane to identify them, before it landed on an entirely inappropriate smile. He took a step toward Shane, who stepped back, glancing down at the thong. “Do you want to see the other ones?” Ilya asked. Shane winced like he’d been struck, a small noise escaping him involuntarily. “How many girls’ thongs do you have?” It came out almost as a whisper. Ilya squinted at him. “Well, none, seeing as they are mine,” Ilya said, “and I am not a girl. Then you would not want to have sex with me.” Shane’s mind reeled. “What?” “What?” Ilya repeated with his shitty attempt at a Canadian accent. “Ilya, please,” Shane implored, “I don’t understand.” “It is mine, what is so hard to understand?” “But who did you get it from?” “Shane,” Ilya said seriously, reaching out to place a firm hand on one of Shane’s shoulders. “It is not ‘from’ anyone. It is mine.” Ilya held Shane’s gaze, waiting for him to come down from his spiral. A minute or so passe, then Shane finally spoke again. “I’m still not sure I understand why you have women’s underwear at your apartment,” he glanced at the offending article, still crumpled on the floor. Ilya huffed, rolling his eyes slightly. “They’re not women’s underwear, they’re mine. You know, it is kind of sexist that you call them that.” He grinned at the glare from Shane that earned him. “But anyways, sometimes I like to jerk off in them, it is not very interesting.” The images of Ilya in bed with various women disappeared abruptly from Shane’s mind’s eye, replaced immediately with one he had never, ever considered before: Ilya, clad only in the lacy pink thong, his dick bulging obscenely against the thin fabric. Shane forced himself to focus on Ilya’s face, searching for a sign that he was fucking with him. “It was a few years ago, back when I was fucking women – don’t’ look at me like that,” Shane made a sour face, but Ilya continued, “There was this girl, she really wanted to put her panties on me. She was hot, so I said yes,” he shrugged. “She sucked me off, was great. It was hotter than I expected. So, I bought some, and sometimes I put them on when I jerk off. Is not serious.” A bit of color spread across Ilya’s cheeks as he spoke, glancing away at the end before watching Shane carefully for his reaction. Shane was… processing. It was difficult when all he could think about was the fact that in their entire relationship, he’d never seen Ilya like that. “I’ve, um, never seen you wear, uh,” Shane was saying before he realized it. He looked at Ilya pointedly before glancing at the panties, trailing off. Ilya flushed. “You want to?” he asked, an uncharacteristic shyness in his voice. “Yes, please,” Shane replied, too quickly, but he was already getting hard and no longer had the capacity to feel ashamed of his eagerness. Ilya grinned, moving in closer to Shane, pressing against him. Shane let out a small whimper as Ilya pressed a thigh between Shane’s legs, pressing against his hardening cock. Ilya nosed at Shane’s jaw before gripping it and tilting Shane’s head away for better access to his neck. Ilya nipped and kissed along Shane’s jaw, down his neck to his collar bone, and back up to his ear before whispering, “Finish getting the laundry started, then find me in the bedroom.” Shane flushed, turning to steal a kiss from Ilya before they separated. Ilya gave him a playful pat on the cheek before turning to leave. It only took a few minutes for Shane to calm down enough to finish the laundry. He shoved the rest of the clothes in, including the pink thong on the floor. He wondered what the underwear that Ilya picked out would look like, if they were as thin and see-through as these ones. His cock jumped in his pants at the thought. Focus, he thought, tossing in a detergent pod and starting the washer. He stood for a minute, in front of the machine as it filled with water, steeling himself for the sight that awaited him. Shane took a deep breath and made his way back to the bedroom.

Chapter 2: lacy black pair with the little bows

Chapter Notes

ty for the comments, they fuel me <3 See the end of the chapter for more notes Nothing could have possibly prepared Shane for this. The sight of his boyfriend in tight, black, lace panties, muscular form stretched across their bed languidly to show off all those soft curves and sharp angles, might actually be the thing that kills him. Shane had to remind himself to breathe. Ilya soaked in Shane’s ogling, smirking at him from across the room. He was on his back, propped up on his elbows so he could watch Shane as he came into the room. Shane’s eyes were dark, pupils blown wide. Ilya could see the faint outline of Shane’s cock, half-hard in his boxers, and his own pulsed gently in response. Any previous apprehensions Ilya might've had about showing this to Shane were long forgotten when Ilya saw that first look cross Shane’s face. Shane took a step forward into the room before stopping again, waiting silently for permission. Ilya’s legs fell open slightly, creating just enough room between them for Shane on the bed. Shane swallowed hard, looking to Ilya’s face for permission. He gave a slight nod, and Shane was across the room, climbing up the bed to settle into the space Ilya made for him. Ilya cupped Shane’s face with both hands, pulling him in for a kiss, firm and demanding. Shane was already gasping and whimpering against Ilya's lips, and when Ilya pulled back to catch his breath, Shane’s head dropped to rest on Ilya’s chest. “Shane?” Ilya asked, a touch of concern in his voice. Shane groaned in response. Ilya gripped Shane’s hair, gently guiding his head back up to eye-level. Except, Shane wasn’t looking at Ilya’s face, he was looking down at… “Shane,” Ilya laughed this time. “You are practically drooling.” Shane slowly, reluctantly, as if it took incredible physical effort, dragged his eyes back up to Ilya’s. “Ilya,” he whined, “please.” “'Please?' Use your words, what do you want?” “I want to feel you get hard in my mouth,” Shane groaned, tugging gently against the hands tangled in his hair. The sharp sting helped him focus. “I need it, please,” he looked up at Ilya through dark lashes, tongue darting out to wet his already flushed lips. “Fuck,” Ilya groaned, “always so desperate for a cock in your mouth, hm?” “Yours,” Shane moaned back, “only yours.” Ilya dragged Shane in for a deep kiss, tugging at his hair to coax more gasps and whimpers out of him. It was obvious how worked up Shane was already, and it was starting to affect Ilya as well. He thought about what Shane had asked for and reluctantly pulled back, nipping Shane’s lower lip and tugging at it. “Better get to it,” Ilya smiled. He started to drag Shane down by his hair, but Shane was already scrambling down the bed to situate himself at dick-level. Ilya couldn’t help a laugh, but then he was gasping as Shane pressed his face to Ilya’s bulge. “Fuck,” he groaned. Shane moaned wordlessly in response, pressing open-mouthed kisses against the scratchy lace stretched over Ilya’s cock. He mouthed at it, tried to fit as much of Ilya’s mostly-soft dick in his mouth as possible, desperate to feel it filling out. Sure enough, the weight against his tongue shifted, and Shane could feel Ilya’s cock stretching out the lace further. He moaned wantonly around Ilya, moaning louder when the cock in his mouth twitched in response. Ilya gasped as Shane brought a hand up to trace his fingers over the taut fabric covering Ilya’s balls before massaging them gently, moaning as Ilya got harder against his tongue. Shane’s fingers dipped further down, pressing softly against the space behind Ilya’s balls, something he knew would make Ilya’s eyes roll back in his head. Sure enough, Ilya’s breath hitched, hard, and his hips rocked up, grinding his growing erection against Shane’s face. Shane moaned back, blissed out. His own cock ached between his legs, untouched but for the mildly uncomfortable friction provided by his boxers, but he didn’t care as long as he could feel Ilya throbbing on his tongue. Shane sucked at Ilya, mouthing at his balls, up to the tip of his cock, still maddeningly wrapped in lacy black fabric. Ilya panted above Shane, hips twitching occasionally to chase the wet heat of his mouth. Shane rubbed his face against the soaked fabric, nuzzling Ilya’s thighs before going back to trying to suck Ilya’s cock through the thin lace. Suddenly, Shane’s lips slipped across velvety soft skin - a stark contrast to the roughness of the lace - and Ilya was swearing in Russian. Shane hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes until they snapped open, immediately fixing on the tip of Ilya’s cock, poking out one side of the front panel of the underwear, resting against the inside of his thigh, the head just visible peeking out of the foreskin. Shane’s mouth watered, dropping open to suckle at the exposed tip. Ilya’s hands gripped harder at Shane’s hair, holding him close against Ilya’s body. Shane tongued at Ilya, sucking at the foreskin, running his tongue over the shiny head to feel Ilya squirm and yank at his hair. Shane slid his tongue under Ilya’s foreskin, swirling his tongue around and around. Ilya cried out, gasping. One of his thighs shook. Using his lips to cover his teeth, Shane pressed the skin back, baring the sensitive head before taking it into his mouth and sucking. “Fu-uck,” Ilya moaned, raking his fingers through Shane’s hair. “So good,” he gasped as Shane sucked at him. Shane moaned around Ilya and was instantly rewarded with the way that the vibrations made the other man writhe under his grip. Ilya was fully hard by now, straining against the fabric, and precum had started to bead at his tip. Shane lapped it up greedily before pulling back slightly to look up at Ilya. “What is it?” Ilya asked, panting hard. Wordlessly, but without breaking eye contact, Shane gripped the waistband of the panties. He gave a cursory tug, the wet fabric dragging roughly over Ilya’s leaking cock. Ilya squeezed his eyes shut, tipping his head back in response. “Hang on,” Ilya panted, tugging at Shane’s hair a bit roughly, the way he knew would help center Shane. A bit of focus returned to Shane’s eyes. Ilya caught his breath before continuing. “You have not seen back yet,” his voice still rough as he smirked down at Shane. Before Shane could respond, Ilya was pulling himself up the bed and flipping over onto his stomach, careful not to kick Shane in the process. Holy. Shit. Ilya’s ass looked incredible. The thin straps of the thong framed the curve of it perfectly, and the tiny underwear made Ilya’s ass look even fuller than usual. “You can touch,” Ilya grinned over his shoulder at an awestruck Shane. As soon as he had permission, Shane scrambled onto his knees, leaning forward to grab two large handfuls of Ilya’s ass. Ilya, who laughed in delight, pushed back into Shane’s grasp. Shane kneaded the muscles, his breath catching as the motion spread Ilya’s cheeks apart slightly, exposing the thin strap that ran across his hole, down towards his balls. The panties were definitely designed for someone who did not have all the external parts Ilya had, so his...everything was spilling out the edges. Shane couldn’t help running his thumb over the sensitive skin of Ilya's balls, already heavy with arousal. Shane dragged his thumb up over Ilya’s perineum, ghosting closer to his entrance. Ilya shuddered, canting his hips as Shane teased him and swallowing audibly. Ilya shifted on the bed, and Shane caught a glimpse of Ilya’s cock, hard and flushed dark with arousal. It was leaking a little at the tip. The air rushed out of Shane’s lungs, and he gripped Ilya’s ass cheek harder. “See something you like?” Ilya asked, a little breathless as he looked back up at Shane. “Flip over," Shane panted. "I want you in my mouth, please,” Shane heard how desperate he sounded, but couldn’t bring himself to care. He felt desperate. He needed to taste Ilya, to take him as deeply as he could until his entire world narrowed to the weight of Ilya’s dick in his mouth, slipping down his throat. An involuntary whimper escaped at just the thought, Shane’s hips rocking of their own accord. Ilya looked dazed. “Fuck,” he swore, “such a fucking cockslut.” His tone should’ve been teasing, but Ilya was so breathless that it came out sounding more awestruck than anything else. Shane's dick gave a resolute jump at that. “Shut up,” he groaned, even as he gave a small nod. His face surely couldn’t get hotter than it already was. Ilya turned back over onto his back, smiling. He splayed his legs wide to show off his erection, straining at the delicate lace. Shane held his breath without realizing. “How do you want it?” Ilya smiled, leaning back on one elbow. Shane’s eyes were glued to Ilya’s other hand as it moved to press at the base of his cock, rubbing lightly over the strained fabric, the tip protruding further out to one side than before. Shane watched as precum welled there, and his chest panged with the desire to lap it up. He wanted everything Ilya could give, every last drop and every inch. “I want, um,” Shane couldn’t manage to drag his gaze away from Ilya’s hand on his cock, “I want you to h-hold me down, use my mouth,” Shane’s face was beet red as he heard himself saying the words. He felt arousal and shame swirling together, amplifying each other. His own dick ached, but it was a distant thought compared to the physical pain he felt at not having Ilya stuffed down his throat. Ilya’s eyes blew nearly black. It made him look predatory, shark-like, a thought that made Shane feel weak in the knees. Ilya shifted to make space in the center of the bed before patting the open spot lightly. “On your back,” he smiled wolfishly, grinning wide and barking out a laugh when Shane scrambled up the bed to position himself as instructed. “So eager for it,” Ilya leaned down to kiss Shane messily until they were both a bit breathless. He pulled back and sat up, then swung one leg over Shane’s chest to straddle him before carefully lowering his entire weight onto him. Ilya reached behind him with one hand, quickly jerking Shane's boxers down to bunch tight around his thighs, freeing his throbbing erection in the process. The effect on Shane was immediate and involuntary. His whole body jerked, hard, before going very still. His arms were pinned by his sides, squeezed tight and held in place by Ilya’s muscular thighs. His legs prevented from spreading more than a few inches by the fabric bunched around his thighs. The restriction of his movement, the weight on his chest, Ilya’s lace-wrapped cock, suddenly just inches from Shane’s face, it all had Shane shuddering, his breathing rough. Ilya looked heavenly perched up there, gazing down at Shane through hooded lids. Shane licked his lips and felt distantly satisfied at the way Ilya’s eyes immediately locked onto the movement. Ilya shifted up, taking some weight off Shane’s chest, and slid his hands around the back of Shane’s head, cradling it as he moved forward, pressing his hard, leaking dick to Shane’s open mouth. Shane’s tongue came out to meet the already sopping fabric, and he moaned as he began to mouth at Ilya hungrily. Ilya ground against Shane’s hot, wet mouth, drawing another moan from the man beneath him. “You want?” he asked. Shane didn’t even glance up, just moaned louder against Ilya’s length. Ilya huffed out a laugh before using his grip on Shane’s hair to tug him back a few inches. “It is too bad you cannot unwrap your present in current…state,” he punctuated the last word with a harsh squeeze of his thighs. Ilya smirked at Shane’s pout. “Don’t worry, I will help you,” he said as he hooked the thumb of one hand into the waistband of the thong, his other hand still gripped Shane’s hair, holding him in place. Shane was having trouble breathing, and it had nothing to do with the weight on his chest. He watched, hands braced by his sides but itchy with desire to reach out and touch, as Ilya slowly dragged the panties down over his erection. More and more dark blonde curls were exposed with each new centimeter of flesh. As the slow drag reached lower, Ilya’s cock shifted under the lace, attempting to stand free. Finally, the tip slipped free, Ilya’s cock bouncing up and down a hair’s breadth from Shane’s lips. The waistband dipped down beneath the base of Ilya’s dick before snaking up over each hip, and the panties were left bunched below, providing little coverage for Ilya’s swollen, heavy balls. Shane was a man starved, and before him lay such a decadent meal. He glanced up at Ilya, who watched him with an intensity that made him squirm, but Shane held his gaze anyway and asked, “Please?” He parted his lips in invitation. He hoped he looked fuckable. “Anything you want,” Ilya murmured, wrapping a hand around the base of his dick, readjusting his grip on Shane’s hair with the other. Anticipation thrummed in Shane’s chest as Ilya guided his leaking tip to Shane’s lips. Shane instantly opened his mouth, ready and eager to take Ilya to the back of his throat, but Ilya kept Shane from surging forward to swallow him down. Ilya held Shane’s head steady while he rubbed his tip across Shane’s lips, down his chin. Ilya was breathing heavily as he smeared precum across Shane’s lips. The sharp scent of Ilya’s arousal filled Shane’s senses, and he couldn’t help swiping his tongue over his bottom lip to get a taste. “Fuck,” Ilya groaned, his dick throbbing slightly against Shane’s lips. “You can move your hands a little, yes?” Ilya had his eyes squeezed shut, like he was trying to focus. “What?” Shane said after a moment. “Your hands, can you move them?” Ilya tried again, squeezing Shane’s biceps with his thighs. Shane bent his elbows and was able to reach up to touch the backs of Ilya’s thighs and his ass. “Yes?” he said, sex-drunk and confused. “If you need to stop or slow down, tap me three times,” Ilya was looking at Shane like this was something important. Understanding dawned on Shane. “Oh,” he said, intelligently, as it sank in that he would be completely unable to pull back, that he would be at his boyfriend’s total mercy. The though sent a dirty thrill through Shane, his long-forgotten cock twitching painfully. He shuddered and then nodded. “Okay,” he said, breathless. “Okay,” Ilya sucked in a breath. He gave his dick one solid stroke, relishing the indignant whimper it drew from Shane, before pressing it once more to Shane’s soft, wet lips. The soft, velvety skin that wrapped around the tip had pulled back to reveal the slick, sensitive head, which Shane began to suckle at lightly as Ilya teased his mouth. “God, Shane, so needy,” Ilya teased before finally, finally, slipping his cock into Shane’s mouth. Shane moaned, probably too loud for someone who wasn't being touched, at the silky-hard weight filling his mouth, pressing down on his tongue. Normally, he would give Ilya the minute or so that he needed to adjust to the wet heat of Shane’s mouth, careful to ramp up the intensity slowly to drag things out. This time, however, Shane felt a sort of mindlessness take over; his sole thought was that of Ilya stuffing his cock down Shane’s throat, deep. He couldn’t imagine anything else in that moment. He tried to angle his head to take Ilya deeper but was abruptly stopped by the burning pain in his scalp as Ilya yanked him back by the hair. Shane started to whine around Ilya’s cock, still half in his mouth, but was cut off when the hands in his hair gripped tight, holding him in place as Ilya started to rock his hips slightly, fucking Shane’s mouth. The slick glide of Ilya on his tongue made Shane’s eyes prickle with tears of joy. He knew he should be embarrassed about liking this so much, and mortified would not even begin to cover it if anyone ever found out about this side of him, but he couldn’t help the way it made him feel. To taste and smell and feel the man he loved, to be completely surrounded by him, the entire world would narrow as worries and reality melted away, replaced by Ilya, Ilya, Ilya. “Fuck that’s good,” Ilya muttered. He grunted when his cockhead knocked against the roof of Shane’s mouth, hissed as Shane tried to suck at him. Shane moaned back and dropped his jaw open as wide as he could, inviting Ilya to fuck into it harder, with less restraint. Ilya readjusted his grip on Shane’s head, angling him just so, and then he was slipping further in, hitting the back of Shane’s throat. It made Shane gag slightly, his throat seizing up around Ilya, who moaned at the tight squeeze on his cock. Ilya pulled back just enough for Shane to sputter and catch his breath before pushing right back in. The hand at Shane's nape held firm, bracing him as Ilya shoved in deep. Shane’s throat jumped at the intrusion, but he forced himself to swallow, eyes watering as he tongued at the underside of Ilya’s dick. “Oh God,” Ilya groaned. His hips rocked back and forth minutely, pressing himself against the back of Shane’s throat. It was so, so tight and wet and hot, and Shane was moaning too now. The vibrations threatened to break Ilya’s self control, his hips snapping forward, driving him even deeper. “Oh,” Ilya gasped, his thighs shaking. Shane felt so full, his jaw ached in a way he knew he would feel tomorrow, a constant reminder. He had started to relax around the intrusion, but then Ilya had pressed deeper, before he had adjusted fully, and now Shane struggled to take as much as Ilya was giving him. But Shane was determined to do it, to be good for Ilya, so he squeezed his wet eyes shut and focused on forcing himself to swallow around Ilya, hard. Ilya hissed, fingers raking through Shane’s hair, and he began moving his hips and guiding Shane’s head in tandem, setting a rhythm that barely left Shane enough time to catch his breath between strokes. His head swam, and his whole body buzzed with arousal. Shane squirmed against the restraint of his boxers, the press of Ilya hard and heavy atop him, relishing his own helplessness. They moaned in unison each time Ilya buried himself in Shane’s mouth, and sometimes instead of pulling back out, Ilya held himself there, deep in Shane’s throat, to feel the deep vibrations, pulling back only once Shane’s chest started to jump underneath him as he tried unsuccessfully to suck in air. Ilya pulled all the way out as Shane coughed and sputtered, drool dripping down his chin, tears on his cheeks, and waited for him to catch his breath. When Shane looked up at Ilya through wet lashes, Ilya’s breath caught in his throat. He swiped a thumb across Shane’s swollen bottom lip and murmured something in Russian before slipping back into Shane’s mouth and fucking his face. Every push into Shane’s mouth, braced by Ilya’s firm hold cradling his head, slid deeper still. Shane struggled to accommodate Ilya’s length, and particularly his girth, but he wanted - needed - to take it, all of it. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he didn’t, but he felt like the floor might fall out from under him, or like he might hurtle away, drifting off into space. He needed to feel Ilya’s stomach pressed tight against his nose, to bury his face in the curly hair between Ilya’s thighs. Eventually, Shane felt the tickle of a wiry hair brush against his cheek and his eyes snapped open; Ilya was so close to being all the way inside him. There was maybe an inch of dick left un-sucked, and Shane was determined to finish the job. Shane knew Ilya was close when his breathing became erratic, his thrusts sloppier. With that realization came a wave of panic, and before Shane knew it he was frantically tapping the back of Ilya’s thighs with both hands. Ilya bit back a swear and pulled all the way out instantly, his hands soft and steadying in Shane’s hair. His eyes were alight with worry as he looked down at Shane. “Fuck, are you okay?” Ilya asked, thumb stroking Shane's temple. “It was too much?” Shane tried to speak, but only a rough, wet sound came out. He coughed, clearing his throat a few times while shaking his head, hoping Ilya got the message. Ilya relaxed slightly, but the tension was still palpable. “I’m okay, I think,” Shane said as soon as he could produce sound again. His voice was still cracked and raw, more hushed than usual. “Not too much.” Ilya was watching him closely. “Something happened,” he said, not a question this time. Shane squirmed underneath him, staring up at the ceiling, cheeks hot. Ilya waited patiently for Shane to speak again. “It was good,” Shane started, “it’s just,” he glanced at Ilya’s face before returning his gaze to the ceiling, “you were going to come.” Shane made a face. The words weren’t coming out the way he wanted them to. Ilya was about to say that if Shane wanted to try edging all he needed to do was ask when Shane finally spoke up. “It was good,” he repeated, “it just wasn’t, like, enough?” The end of the sentence trailed upward in pitch like a question. “What, you want me to fuck you?” Ilya asked, still hard and aching from having come so close to release. “No – or, no, not no, but not right now?” Shane’s face scrunched up in embarrassment. He took a breath, trying to center himself. “I liked what we were doing, all of it. But I need to feel you, deeper.” He looked up at Ilya through heavy lids, his face tight from dried tears and spit. Ilya, who was still straddling Shane’s chest, swallowed hard, his dick jumped. He looked down at Shane’s imploring face, then turned his own face heavenward, muttering something in Russian to himself. “Fucking hell,” Ilya breathed, “you will be the death of me.” He moved up off of Shane and sat down on the bed beside him. For the first time since he had climbed atop Shane, Ilya was able to glance back down the bed at Shane’s cock. He couldn’t help the gasp he let out at the sight; Shane was rock hard and leaking profusely, his dick a tight, rigid line against his stomach. It looked like it hurt. There was precum drooling steadily from his tip, and more of the liquid had gathered on Shane’s lower stomach, starting to drip down his side a little. “Fuck,” Ilya’s voice was strained. He gripped himself, his breaths were coming out shaky. Shane's own labored breathing was peppered with a steady stream of little whimpers. Ilya drew his fingers through the mess on Shane's stomach, and the muscles there jumped in response. Shane's dick twitched once, hard. “Here, try -" Ilya started but cut himself off. He swallowed hard, holding Shane's gaze. "Lay with your head off the edge of the bed.”

Chapter End Notes

call shane hollander breakfast eggs the way i've got that boy scrambling

Chapter 3: all up in it

Chapter Summary Shane finally gets everything he wants.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes All the air seemed to rush out of Shane’s lungs at once. He made a choked, garbled sound, and Ilya watched as Shane’s cock gave a valiant twitch, a fresh wave of clear liquid leaking out. This was something they hadn’t tried before, but Shane had seen enough porn to immediately know what Ilya meant. His head swam; it would be a lie to say he hadn’t imagined himself in the position before, usually when he had a hand wrapped tight around his own dick while he choked himself on his own fingers. Shane sat up slightly before awkwardly wriggling into position, his thighs still bound together. He turned on the bed to lay across it, still on his back, with his head dangling just off the edge. The position tilted his head back, and he knew as well as felt how the motion created a straight line from his mouth all the way down his throat, the perfect place for Ilya to fit inside. Shane’s breath caught in his throat, and he looked beseechingly up at Ilya. Ilya’s chest was tight. Despite everything they had done together, the myriads of compromising positions they had seen each other in, this never failed to take his breath away. The sheer vulnerability, the naked want written all over Shane’s body – an intense wave of adoration, possessiveness, and awe filled Ilya every time Shane allowed him the honor of seeing this. Ilya stood, holding Shane’s desperate gaze as he moved to stand in front of Shane’s face. Once more, Ilya’s cock filled Shane’s field of view. From this angle, Shane caught sight of the black lace of the panties, still bunched together, tucked under Ilya’s cock. More warm wetness leaked from Shane’s own erection. His hips twitched, but laying on his back there was nothing to thrust into, nothing he could grind against but empty air. Ilya smirked down at Shane and gave his cock a couple strokes, watching Shane watch him. “Try to keep hands by your sides, yes?” The words made Shane shiver, and he heard the quiet permission in the careful way Ilya said them; try, but it’s okay if you can’t. Shane nodded eagerly. He was already slipping back into the blissful state he reached whenever he sucked Ilya’s dick, but especially when Ilya let go of all self-control and really used his mouth. Ilya’s hands slid around to the back of Shane’s head, burying themselves deep in the hair at the nape of his neck. He tugged at the hair there, making Shane hiss. Then, Ilya was using one hand to guide himself past Shane’s lips once again. Both men groaned. Ilya huffed a curse under his breath, the vibrations threatened to overwhelm him, but he gritted his teeth and kept going. He was going to give this to Shane. It was already a much better angle; Ilya’s cock slid in, deep, with little effort, the air whooshing out of his lungs. Again, Shane’s body protested, locking down tight, making him gag and splutter. The hot, fluttering squeeze on his dick made Ilya gasp. It was tempting to stay buried there; to just let Shane’s spasming throat bring him to the edge and milk him dry. With all his self-restraint, Ilya pulled out so that Shane could catch his breath. “Is a lot, I know,” Ilya teased, his own voice bordering on wrecked, and he massaged Shane’s nape soothingly. Shane finished coughing and huffed indignantly, but still tilted his head back, a wordless invitation for Ilya to resume. Ilya slid his cock past Shane’s swollen, red lips, easily gliding over his tongue. It was clear that Shane was focused on getting himself to relax, swallowing hard when Ilya hit the back of his throat. This time, Shane’s body relented instantly, and Ilya was sliding in, deep. Shane groaned around the invasive stretch. It was like he could feel Ilya in his fucking chest. Shane’s hands itched with the desire to grab Ilya’s hips, to haul him in close and keep him there. Shane’s stomach was doing backflips, and his heart hammered in his ears. But then Ilya was pulling out before pushing back in again, pushing like he was trying to carve out a space for himself inside Shane. Shane swallowed frantically around the firm pressure in his throat, trying desperately to drag Ilya as deep inside him as possible. “Fucking hell,” Ilya groaned. His voice cracked. He started to move his hips a little more, fucking in and out of Shane’s throat. “You feel,” Ilya bit out, gasping, “incredible.” Warmth spread all across Shane’s body. He lapped at Ilya’s dick as it slid in and out, swallowed when Ilya buried himself deep, and sucked and lapped at the tip each time Ilya pulled out. “You can take it,” Ilya crooned, holding Shane’s head steady, as he fucked deeper. Shane whimpered, breathing fast, and his cock gave a wet twitch. The muscles under Ilya’s fingers softened as Shane relaxed his neck, letting Ilya manhandle him, position Shane how he wanted. His breath hitched when he shifted Shane’s head slightly and the resistance gave, allowing him deeper. Shane’s desperate, broken noises as he struggled to swallow it all drove Ilya mad, and he started fucking Shane’s face in earnest. The room filled with wet, choked- off noises. Ilya groaned, pressing himself in, nice and deep, before he cut himself off with a sharp gasp. His cock jerked hard in Shane’s throat, sending a jolt straight to Shane’s own dick, hot and drooling against his stomach. Ilya made a broken sound, and then a hand left the back of Shane’s head before coming to ghost barely-there fingertips over his throat. Ilya shuddered, another broken sound escaping him like it was punched out. “Oh fuck, Shane,” Ilya moaned. “I - “ He started, swallowing hard. “Fuck, I can s-see myself,” he gasped, tracing his fingers light as air over Shane’s throat, “here.” He whispered the last word, pressing his fingers into Shane’s neck. Shane could feel it. He could feel Ilya, feeling himself inside Shane. Shane’s cock jerked, hard. He spluttered around Ilya’s length, trying to suck in air, his throat seizing. He squeezed his fists at his sides until his nails bit into his palms. Ilya was rocking his hips minutely, gasping and shuddering each time he met the extra resistance created by pressing down firmer and firmer on Shane’s neck. It felt unreal, it felt so, so wrong, and so incredibly right, the way Ilya was invading his body, so deeply and fully. “Fuck,” Ilya bit out, hips stuttering. He squeezed Shane’s throat, fucking into the narrow channel sloppily. “If you could see – “ His voice broke. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way Shane’s throat bulged around him. “Shane,” Ilya gasped, “so fucking obscene.” Shane slowly lifted his hand, brought it to his throat, and traced shaky fingers over the taut skin. The choked gasp followed by a keening whine that ripped from Shane’s shaking form left no doubt in Ilya’s mind that Shane could feel what Ilya was seeing. Ilya willed his hips to keep still, allowing Shane’s fingers to explore, watching him feel how his body stretched to accommodate Ilya. Shane shuddered and laid his hand flat across his throat before pressing down, firm. Ilya hissed at the tight squeeze, hips jerking forward into the wet heat. Shane felt Ilya move under his palm and groaned appreciatively, squeezing his neck tighter to feel his head swim. Deep satisfaction spread through Shane at the way Ilya shuddered against him, crying out. Shane swallowed, enjoying the deep stretch and Ilya’s resultant whimpers. Then, Ilya pulled all the way out, very suddenly, and Shane couldn’t help the desolate noise that tore from his chest at the abrupt absence. “It, fuck, I can’t,” Ilya gasped, squeezing tight around the base of his dick in a desperate attempt to curb his arousal. He had been so close before and was rapidly hurtling towards that place again. One of his legs shook uncontrollably. “I’m so close, Shane,” he panted, still holding his cock just inches from Shane’s face. “Please,” Shane begged, knowing how much Ilya loved hearing it. “Use me, use my mouth please, use me to make yourself come.” Ilya’s breath hitched, and Shane kept babbling. “I want it, all of it, please, give me it all, fill me up, please,” Shane’s voice trailed to a whisper. Ilya groaned, swearing, and stepped in closer, close enough that the base of his cock rested against Shane’s lips, the shaft laying flat past his chin, past his Adam’s apple, most of the way down his throat. Fuck, Shane thought. Ilya was so big, Shane knew this should be intimidating, but a horrible thrill shivered through him at the idea of taking all of it, Ilya making him take it. Scratchy fabric – lace, right – rubbed against Shane’s face as Ilya pressed himself forward, dragging his balls across Shane’s face and grinding into him. Shane would be annoyed if the whole thing weren’t making his cock throb. “Please,” Shane whisper-moaned, muffled against the underside of Ilya’s cock, and Ilya finally pressed back inside. Shane groaned at the feeling of Ilya filling him back up. Ilya wasn’t kidding about being close based on the first hesitant, stuttering thrust. Shane took Ilya into his throat easily this time, and he only had a moment to feel proud before Ilya was fucking his face, swearing as he gently picked up a rhythm. Shane moaned and whimpered each time his boyfriend slipped a little deeper. He felt so, so full. Tears pricked Shane’s eyes. Ilya’s balls slapped his face with every thrust, and Shane wondered vaguely if the imprint of the lace would be left behind. He squirmed on the bed, keening when he felt Ilya grow more frantic, broken grunts and gasps spilling from the Russian’s lips as he drove into Shane with increasing fervor. Shane choked down every thrust gratefully, or perhaps greedily, so his head swam. The sounds that Shane’s mouth made around Ilya’s cock were beyond obscene. Ilya tried to tell Shane as much, but the connection between his brain and mouth felt delayed, staticky. Somewhere in the string of English and Russian curses, Ilya distantly heard himself babbling incoherent half-sentences. Something about your mouth and do you hear yourself and God, Shane, so good. He was pretty sure Shane got the point. Also completely fucking obscene was the way Ilya was fucking into Shane’s mouth, guiding his head through each thrust with one hand while squeezing Shane’s throat with the other. Shane could feel the way his throat narrowed and tightened around Ilya with every press of his wide hand to Shane’s neck, timed to correspond with Ilya’s harsh thrusts. “F-fuck,” Ilya moaned, hips snapping forward, hard. Shane knew he was teetering right on the edge. Shane needed Ilya inside. Now. It might’ve been involuntary, Shane wasn’t really sure, but before he had really thought about it, his hands were off the bed, grasping Ilya by the hips and hauling him in. Ilya stumbled forward, gasping, as he slid all the way into Shane’s throat, his balls rubbing against Shane’s face, pubic bone pressed to Shane’s chin. Shane moaned appreciatively, his eyes rolling back. Ilya was everywhere, pressing deep, stretching Shane’s jaw and throat while his balls smushed against Shane’s nose. It felt like Shane might suffocate with the way his heartbeat throbbed in his own ears. “Oh God, Shane,” Ilya sounded unmoored. His whole body was wracked with shivers despite radiating waves of heat. Shane moaned with satisfaction, and Ilya couldn’t stop himself from grinding against Shane’s face, drawing more pleased moans from deep in his chest. The scratchy lace was rough on Shane’s face, but something about it was making heat coil tighter and tighter in his belly. “Fuck,” Ilya bit out, hips twitching, “Can I –“ Before he could finish asking, Shane was swallowing, hard. Over and over. A nonverbal plea for Ilya to take his pleasure, finish deep inside. The sound that tore from Ilya’s throat was near-animal as he fucked Shane’s face in short, rough thrusts that never fully pulled out of the tight heat of Shane’s throat. Shane moaned and raked his nails over Ilya’s ass, snapped the waistband against his skin, followed the strip of fabric down his crack to press so lightly at his hole. The pleasure built rapidly, pressure hot and tight in Ilya’s lower belly as he fucked Shane’s mouth like it was a fleshlight. Except, Shane’s body was better than any toy, Ilya was sure of it. Shane choked out a broken, whimpering moan, and the tight squeeze of Shane’s throat convulsing around him finally pushed Ilya right over the edge. “Fuck,” Ilya bit out, groaning as he buried himself to the hilt in Shane’s mouth, grinding hard against his face as his cock pulsed, tight balls smushing Shane’s nose. Ilya pressed a hand tight across Shane’s throat, squeezing as he fucked through his release. Shane swallowing frantically, whimpering and moaning the whole time. When Ilya opened his eyes, there was a mess of white on Shane’s heaving stomach. Yet Shane’s hands still gripped Ilya’s ass, which meant… Holy shit, Ilya thought. Shane had come, untouched, just from Ilya fucking his mouth. Ilya’s cock gave a heroic last-ditch jerk even as it was softening in Shane’s mouth. He reluctantly pulled out with a hiss, rolling his eyes at the noise of complaint he received from Shane. He helped Shane move to a more comfortable position, sliding the bunched-up boxers all the way off his loose, wobbly legs, before getting him a glass of water and joining him on the bed. He handed the water to Shane and watched him quietly drink a bit. Each swallow was careful, sometimes followed by a spluttering cough or Shane clearing his throat. They sat in silence, but for the wet noises of Shane’s throat working, both of them breathing heavy. “What was it?” Ilya asked after a moment. One of his hands rested across the nape of Shane’s neck, tracing soothing patterns into the soft, sensitive skin. It was something Ilya had noticed seemed to ground Shane after a particularly intense fucking. “Hmm?” Shane asked, his eyes were glazed over in the way they often were after sex, though maybe a little more so than usual. He looked fucked out. Satisfied. Satiated. “What, uh, what made you finish?” Ilya asked once he had caught his breath. It wasn’t uncommon for Shane to climax without Ilya directly touching his cock, something Ilya found absolutely delightful, adorable, flattering, and super fucking hot in equal measures. Of course he loved to tease Shane mercilessly about it, and Shane in turn loved to be teased. Ilya was always curious, though, if there was something specific he’d done, something about the particular position he’d twisted Shane into, any kind of specific precipitating event, so to speak. Mainly so that he could do it again. Shane’s cheeks warmed, a strange contrast to the cool saliva and tears that were quickly drying on his face. He looked up at Ilya after a few seconds, his face flushed dark. “Uh, it was w-what you said,” he mumbled, sheepish, as he set the water on the bedside table. His voice was thin and watery. It was a very good thing he didn’t have any public appearances or speaking events in the coming days; he would have had to come up with some flimsy excuse about allergies or a strange summertime cold. Shane was beet red, his gaze fixed squarely on the wall of Ilya’s bedroom, except for a timid glance at Ilya. His face felt like it would burst into flames. Ilya’s fuck-drunk brain worked slowly as he tried to recall the various things he had said while blissed out on Shane’s mouth. “What I said?” Shane glanced away again, curling his hands into the sheets. “Yeah,” Shane blushed even darker, his freckles standing out. “Um, the ‘toy’ thing?” Ilya looked at him like he had grown wings. “You said –“ Shane started, blush creeping down to his neck and shoulders. “You said I was ‘better than a toy,” Shane covered his face with both hands. Well. Ilya definitely intended that one to be an inside thought, but it seemed like it had been exceptionally well-received. His stomach flipped. “This is…something you like?” “Shut up,” Shane groaned, indignant. “I don’t know.” “Seemed like your cock liked it,” Ilya loved the face Shane made anytime Ilya said cock, like he was stuck halfway between chewing him out for obscenity and jumping his bones. “Ilya,” Shane complained, unable to fight off a small smile. Ilya reached out to catch Shane’s jaw, pull him in for a kiss. Shane went willingly. His lips were swollen and bruised from the rough treatment, so Ilya kissed him gently, lightly tracing his tongue across Shane’s. Shane sighed into the kiss before pulling away. “I need to clean up,” Shane said, and made a face. Ilya tried not to glance at the mess of spit, snot, and tears streaked across Shane’s face, down his neck, practically meeting the ropes of cum drying on his chest, but must’ve failed because Shane rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Yeah, you made a real mess of me,” he said, sounding only a little annoyed about it. “Oops,” Ilya said, with absolutely no regrets. Shane scoffed again, then he got up and went to the bathroom to rinse off. Ilya stretched out in bed and was just starting to doze off when a tinny jingle cut through his post-coital nap – the washing machine was finally done. Ilya figured Shane wouldn’t want his clothes to marinate in the wash for too long (he always complained about the smell if Ilya left his laundry in the wash for more than a half hour, insisted it “smelled wet” whatever that meant), so he got up out of bed and walked over to the laundry room. He stripped off his wet panties and tossed them in the sink. He could handwash that later, the lace was far too delicate to go in the machine. Ilya popped the washing machine door open. He dragged out item after item of wet clothes and moved them over to the dryer. Except… these were all Ilya’s clothes. Like, all of them; not even one of Shane’s socks was mixed in. Ilya’s chest felt weirdly tight for some reason. Maybe Shane had decided to do Ilya’s laundry for him? Ilya had been joking, trying to cut through the awkward tension when he’d asked if that was what Shane was doing when Ilya had found his boyfriend panicking in his laundry room earlier. Ilya couldn’t even remember a time that Shane had asked him to move a load to the dryer, let alone a time one of them did laundry for the other. Finding the motivation to do laundry was always difficult for Ilya, but he didn’t think Shane was aware of that. Maybe this was something they did for each other now? The idea made Ilya feel unreasonably excited, but he knew by now not to make too big a deal of such developments. As he neared the bottom of the washer drum, he spotted the pink thong. Ilya wanted to be irritated, but he found it a little endearing that Shane probably had no idea how to properly care for delicates. He would hedge a guess that the only time Shane had even handled a thong before would’ve been the couple of times he hooked up with Rose, so he couldn’t really blame Shane for not knowing it needed to be hand washed. Ilya smoothed the lace, tugging gently to flatten the wrinkles. He set a clean, dry towel on the edge of the sink and laid the panties flat on it. He pressed the lace gently into the towel before leaving it to air dry. An idea came to Ilya, unbidden. Intriguing. Ilya’s spent cock twitched, sensitive. It was something he had imagined – how could he not – but there were some fantasies that Ilya never expected to be anything but that. Now, though… He would have to ask Shane about it later. For now, he finished moving his laundry over to the dryer, and once the dryer was running, he decided he might as well run another load. He returned to the bedroom, making for the laundry basket, when Shane’s open duffle bag caught his eye; there were two separate compartments inside, one that Shane used for dirty clothes, the other was for clean. There was a good amount of stuff on the dirty side, so Ilya scooped up the clothes and took them to the washer. He double checked that nothing had special instructions for cleaning, stuck it all in the washer and started it running. He felt weirdly accomplished, and there was a certain warmth in his chest that he couldn’t quite name. He went back to the bedroom, threw on a clean t-shirt and pants (no underwear, in case he wanted to hear Shane’s surprised, scandalized, aroused gasp later) and hopped back into bed.

By the time Shane was done with his shower, Ilya was fast asleep in bed, so Shane joined him.

Chapter End Notes

this was too much fun to write, and thank you so much for your wonderful feedback! you may have noticed, ilya has an idea at the end of this fic.... we're doing a sequel bay bee!! ilya making shane wear panties while he fucks him was actually part of the original idea i had for this fic lol, so i have some of it already written, but it's probably going to be a bit longer (and smuttier) than this one was, so stay tuned :) EDIT - sequel is in progress, see part three of the series! the other thing is that the necessary perspective shift towards the end meant we didn't get to hear from shane, so i'm tempted to write a short thing from shane's pov that would cover his thoughts towards the end of this...encounter >:) plus i had some stuff for shane's pov post-sex (shower thoughts, overthinking, fluff) that i could work into it easily - this is now posted as part two in the series! thank YOU for reading, hope you enjoyed ;)

End Notes

more to come soon, your lovely comments give me a speed buff :D please be kind, i haven't written anything in ages and it's my first day clocking in at the hollanov factory (^-^) ゝ find me on tumblr at afterphantoms if you wanna scream together Please drop by the Archive and comment to let the creator know if you enjoyed their work!