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Fall 2017
BOSTON, Ilya’s Penthouse
Shane knocks on the door to Ilya’s elegant penthouse. When he first visited a couple years back, he was very impressed and had told Ilya as much. He still couldn’t get Ilya to tell him how he had found the property in the first place, but he imagined Ilya was keeping it to himself for an air of mystery. Even though they had known each other for years and were finally official, his boyfriend was nothing if not dramatic.
Tonight, for instance, Ilya had told him that he had a surprise for him. He had said it was a ‘long time coming,’ with a dramatic wiggle of his eyebrows, but did not elaborate. Shane had no idea what it could be, but he was sure it was something filthy. And though he normally was not one for surprises, when it came to Ilya, he was willing to do pretty much anything.
After a minute Ilya opens the door, immediately pushing Shane up against it once it’s closed, kissing him intensely. Sometimes Ilya kissed him like he hadn’t taken a deep breath in all the time they’d been apart and he needed the oxygen pulled directly from Shane’s lungs. It was needy - desperate and hungry for him - but always so careful somehow.
This kiss is different, filthy and slow and deeply possessive. It reminds Shane of their first kiss all those years ago, like he’s exploring his mouth for the first time but with a sharper edge. Ilya’s hands feel hot as they reach up under his shirt and grip his waist, thumbs pushing into the dip of his hips, pressing Shane hard against the door, punching a surprised grunt out of him.
“Hi to you too.” He means for it to sound annoyed, but it comes out far more breathy and the smile playing at the corner of his mouth isn’t helping sell it.
A grin spread across Ilya’s face. “Hi. I could not help myself. I have been waiting and you look good enough to eat.” And with that he dives back in to fiercely claim Shane’s mouth, his whole body flush with the door.
Shane groans into Ilya’s mouth and his brain instantly goes offline, his body almost sluggish but also on fire, the way he always feels when Ilya is this close, bodies slotted together. He rarely got drunk, but being with Ilya was as close to that as he could get while completely sober. It is intoxicating every time and he’s become hopelessly addicted to it.
Shane feels like he is going to be crushed against the door and truly can’t think of a better way to go. His knees briefly go weak as he gets lost just drowning in Ilya. His tongue is in his mouth and his hands are roaming everywhere.
And then Ilya pulls away suddenly and steps back. Shane sways dangerously forward chasing Ilya’s heat and nearly falls but catches himself in time and snaps his eyes open, frustration evident all over his face. Ilya is standing just out of his reach, arm outstretched, with a glint of something dangerous in his heated gaze. He winks.
“Come, I have surprise for you.”
Shane quickly closes the distance between them, putting his hand in Ilya’s. At one point in his life he may have felt shame over how eager he was for this, but not anymore. He loves this, loves him.
“Where is it?”
“You will see. Come on.”
And then Ilya is dragging him through the apartment with a determination that Shane usually only sees from him on the ice, as though he doesn’t have time for any outside distractions.
When they walk past the bedroom, Shane makes a brief whine of protest. Ilya is on him in an instant, pressing him against the wall with his whole body, pining his hands at his sides as he kisses Shane quiet. Then he pulls him away and down the hall, all protest wrung out of Shane’s mouth. He keeps walking them through the kitchen, threading their hands together, Shane in a daze.
They walk past the sauna, which makes Shane smirk to himself, thinking about the last time they had used the room. Now that was a good night.
They walk through a door and find themselves in front of an elevator Shane has literally never noticed before. He turns towards Ilya and points at it.
“Has this always been here?”
Ilya presses the down button and turns back to Shane, putting his hands on his hips slowly walking him until he’s flush with the wall. “Yes, always.” He leans in close, nosing his collarbone and nipping on his ear. Shane signs softly.
“Where does it lead?”
“Is a surprise, Shane.”
“I don’t like surprises.” He pouts, but it’s ridiculously adorable.
“You will like this.” Ilya kisses him and Shane relents and stops asking questions, content to let his boyfriend explore his mouth with his tongue.
The elevator dings and they both pull away to look at it and then back at each other. Ilya looks at him with that magnificent crooked smile and turns them, walking them backwards into the elevator. He looks up briefly to choose the right button and then he is back on Shane, crowding him into the corner and licking into his mouth like he wants to crawl inside.
Shane's head is so dizzy with lust he doesn’t put two and two together until he hears the ding of the elevator at the bottom and the doors begin to open.
“Wait a sec. Is this your -” and then stops himself, because what else could it be?
“Yes, my garage.”
Ilya leads him by the hand into the cavernous room. Shane looks around at the five colorful cars parked in a neat diagonal line across from the elevator and his eyes go wide.
“Wow, Ilya.”
He realizes at that moment that he has never seen all of Ilya's cars in person, just flashes of them on TV here and there. They didn’t ever really drive places together, and he usually just takes an uber in different cities. Their trip to the cottage was the exception but that was Shane’s (boring, or at least far as Ilya is concerned) car.
He's never really been interested in cars from anything but a practical perspective, yet even he can’t help but admit it; they are pretty to look at all lined up like that. Sleek and shiny and wow - he finally understands why Ilya is so drawn to sleek machinery.
He’s turned on in a way he’s never been before. But he’s not just gonna come out and admit it. Ilya is going to have to work for it, which Shane knows he secretly loves to do.
All of a sudden he’s reminded of a memory he hasn’t thought about in years.
3 years earlier, 2014
MONTREAL, Shane’s apartment
Shane flopped back on the bed, sweating but satiated. Ilya was already walking to the bathroom to shower so Shane just closed his eyes and breathed in deeply for a few seconds. He felt floaty and high in the way he always did after Rozanov fucked him. Blissed out was an understatement.
He heard the shower shut off and he put his hands behind his head waiting for Ilya to return. He kept his eyes closed; he didn't quite feel like moving yet.
Ilya wandered back into the bedroom still drying his hair with the towel, but otherwise wearing nothing. When he saw Shane still laying back on the bed, heavy-lidded eyes and that unbelievably soft look on his face, he had to pause and take in the sight before him.
He flung the towel over a nearby chair and sauntered over to the bottom of the bed. He leaned over Shane and put one knee on the bed between Shane's outstretched legs, his hands on either side of his hips.
Shane’s eyes opened and Ilya was looming over him in a way that made Shane's skin heat up.
"I like you spread out like this."
"I bet you do, Rozanov."
He crawled further up Shane's body until he was looking directly down at him. He leaned in and placed a wet kiss under his ear before whispering, "You would look so good spread across the hood of my car."
Shane couldn't help the giggle that bubbled out of him at that mental image.
Ilya leaned back just to see Shane's face, his eyebrows knitted together.
"What is funny about this?"
Shane’s frown just touches the corners of his mouth. "I've just never understood your obsession with all your fancy cars."
"Have you ever driven a car that wasn't boring?"
Shane bristled. "I have been in plenty of fancy cars." Which was total bullshit. Shane had been picked up in plenty of nice cars, but he had never been in something like the ones Ilya owned. They were all so sleek and colorful. He was used to nondescript black SUVs.
Ilya snorted at the obvious lie and cupped Shane's chin, tilting back his head and leaning down to mouth at his neck.
"I think you would like it more than you know," he breathed into his skin.
Shane’s breath hitched. "You just like it because it's dangerous."
Ilya paused his mouthing along Shane's jaw, "Maybe," before moving down his neck. “Is sexy too.” Then with a nip to his collar bone, Ilya sat up and straddled Shane's hips. He leaned back on his hands, putting his considerably toned body on display.
It frankly is a shame that Shane doesn’t understand how fucking hot cars can be. But once he actually gets him in a car, he might quickly change his tune.
Ilya pointedly glanced down between them. When he looks back at Shane, a wolfish grin spreads across his face. “See. You do like the idea.”
Shane was already shaking his head, despite his stupid body reacting the way it always does when Ilya is on top of him, or even just in the same room.
“Rozanov,” the warning in his voice sounded small even to him. “I’m still gross and you just showered.”
But Ilya just gazed down at him with the same hungry expression while saying nothing, then dragging his strong hands slowly down Shane’s sides. He let them rest on Shane’s pelvis, his thumbs pressing down asking the question he wasn’t saying aloud and waited.
Shane looked down and saw Ilya was hard already, catching a glimpse of his own stiff dick in the process. He looked back up at Ilya. He swallowed hard. He nodded ever so slightly and Ilya slid back, leaned down and immediately took him into his mouth, swallowing him down almost completely. He started sucking him off intensely, humming around him, making Shane buck his hips involuntarily.
Shane started whimpering so Ilya pulled off, smiling at the keening sound Shane made in protest. He kneeled at his full height between Shane’s outstretched legs, pushing them back and holding them in place with his thighs and began to lazily stroke his own dick. Shane was helpless to anything but watch with wide eyes at the gorgeous man looming above him.
“No one would see us, you know.” He raised his eyebrows. “In my cars. The windows have tints.” He smirked. “Higher tints than is legal. But I got them special.” His free hand touched the inside of Shane’s thigh and dragged the back of his fingers towards his knee. Shane shivered.
“I could drive us wherever. The speed. The vibrations. You would like it.” He started stroking himself more earnestly and looking down at Shane with such a hungry look, like he wanted to eat him alive.
He leaned down and put his hands on either side of Shane's head, their mouths inches apart as he whispered into their mingling breaths.
“Then I could fuck you spread out on the hood.”
Shane whimpered at the thought.
He gripped Shane’s thigh with one of his hands, slotting their cocks together, undulating slowly, rutting against each other, both already so exhausted but still unable to keep their hands off each other.
“I wanna hear your cries echo in my garage.”
His brain was buzzing with how much Ilya had clearly thought about this before. On one hand it was incredibly hot how much it turned Ilya on; he wanted to do that for him. The thought was doing plenty for Shane as well if he even cared to admit it.
But on the other hand it was a terrifying thought because it was so out in the open. What if they got pulled over? What would they say? He groaned at the thought, which immediately ended up tipping him over the edge for the second time that night, spilling all over himself.
Ilya slid against him for another moment before straightening up and gripping himself tightly. He quickly jerked himself to completion, adding to the mess on Shane's stomach.
He tilts and falls in a heap next to Shane, breathing heavily.
“I’m going to fuck you on - or in - one of my cars someday, Hollander.” He tilts his foot and knocks it against Shane’s.
“Fuck you, Rozanov,” he said fondly, knocking his foot back.
Ilya turned his slight smile at the ceiling. They lay there in silence for a moment. Then alarm bells started ringing in his head and Ilya felt like he needed to leave before he did something crazy like softly kiss Shane’s stomach or something.
He sat up almost abruptly at the thought and Shane jumped a little at the quick movement.
He took a deep breath and got up to grab them a washcloth. He handed it to Shane wordlessly, then he bent down to grab his discarded clothing from the floor. He could feel Shane watching him the whole time.
Once dressed, he leaned down for one more kiss because he literally couldn’t help himself. He pulled away to see a flash of Shane’s eyelashes fluttering open, his big brown eyes looking up at him. It always took his breath away, how pretty he was. Seeing Shane soft and satiated like this always made Ilya want to stay longer, but he knew that he could never really have what he wanted, so he righted himself fully and went to leave.
He had fully created his own personal circle of hell made entirely out of his yearning for Shane fucking Hollander.
He schooled his face into a smug grin before turning back to Shane.
“Bye, Hollander.”
“Bye, Rozanov.”
When the door shut behind Ilya, Shane leaned back on the bed and groaned, throwing his arm across his eyes. He really needed to clean these sheets.
Present
When Ilya saw this house for the first time, he felt like he had won the lottery. A real estate friend of Svetlana’s had found it for him, and he still can’t quite believe that it’s real and his despite the fact that he’s lived there for years. Though he wouldn’t admit it when Shane initially complimented the place, he was delighted that Mr. Real Estate(™) liked his house.
His house is secluded, but not as far away from civilization as it may seem. There are full glass windows throughout the main floor, but he has never worried about anyone seeing what he gets up to - and he’s gotten up to a lot.
Yet the most secluded room on the entire property is the garage. It is massive and was a huge selling point when he bought the house. At the time, Ilya owned only one sports car, but he was optimistic there would be more; now he has five.
Ilya has always been a bit of a thrill seeker. He loves being behind the wheel of a fast car, the vibration from the engine. It makes him feel in control and confident. His head clears when he’s speeding down some long highway. And not much has come close to making him feel that kind of exhilaration. Hockey, for sure, but not all the time and not much else.
Except Shane.
So to combine the two? It's always been an intoxicating thought.
He’s imagined fucking Shane on his cars - or in them - many times. Sometimes when he is driving by himself he gets hard just thinking about Shane in the passenger seat while he drives them down some dark, empty highway. He mentioned it once years ago to Shane, but he didn’t get the impression Shane was too into the idea, so he didn’t bring it up again.
But things have changed between them since reaching boyfriend status and finally, truly admitting their love for each other. He could have this now because he knew Shane would indulge him and - fuck - did he want it.
Plus, he knows Shane will probably be more into it than he realizes.
This is their first time back at his Boston penthouse since the life-changing summer at the cottage. And now that he’s planning on moving his whole life to Ottawa for Shane, he knows that he will likely end up selling this house - and probably some of his cars.
He doesn't like either thought, but he would do anything for Shane. So he wants to take advantage of the opportunity while he can.
As they step out of the elevator, Ilya looks expectantly at Shane to see his reaction. Shane is not a car guy, so he’s not expecting fireworks, but he realizes in that moment how badly he wants Shane to like them.
Shane’s eyes go wide, his lips parting in surprise. Ilya looks pleased.
“Yes, my collection is very good, even to people who know nothing about cars.” He holds open his arms gesturing widely at his cars as he walks backwards.
Shane laughs as he follows him. “Ha Ha. Ok tell me what they are.”
Ilya walks up to the first car on the right, a bright orange eyesore, and fans his arms out presenting it with a flourish. “Porsche 718 Cayman. My favorite. ”
Shane wrinkles his nose at the comically clownish car. “You would have the brightest car on the road.”
Ilya waggles his eyebrows. “You will always see me coming.”
“I generally do,” Shane retorts, raising his eyebrow in return.
“Touché, Hollander.” They have finally gotten to a point where they call each other by their first names regularly, but Shane still gets a little buzz whenever Ilya says his last name.
He saunters over to the blue one on its left. He brushes his finger along the hood, then spins and casually gestures at the car. “Lotus Emira.” He looks over at Shane. He’s standing a few feet away from Ilya, arms crossed but eyes dancing affectionately.
“What?”
“You’re like a sexier Vana White.”
Ilya’s face scrunches in confusion. “Who is this?”
Shane’s laugh crinkles the skin around his eyes. “She’s the blond lady who shows the letters on Wheel of Fortune.”
“I am prettier than her, yes?”
“Of course.”
He throws a twinkling grin over his shoulder as he walks behind the red car next to it. He comes around the other side and slowly bends over the side of the hood, placing his palms flat down, flush with the car. “Mazda RX-7.”
He sees the heat in Shane’s gaze despite the fact that he knows he’s being a little silly right now. He feels a wave of warmth rush through him.
He pushes off the car and walks over to the second to last in line, a sleek yellow one.
“Acura NSX. First one I ever bought.” He leans into his hip alongside the hood.
He stands and saunters over to the last car in line: his other Porsche; this one in black. He puts his palms behind him and leans back slightly, crossing his feet. “My Porsche 911 GT3.”
Shane snorts and starts to walk towards Ilya.
“What is funny?”
“You have two Porsches.”
“They are not the same.”
“You don’t think it’s a little…extra?”
“No. Is not extra. They are different.”
Shane reaches him and wraps his hands around his waist, pressing their bodies tight. Ilya loops his arms around Shane’s shoulders and presses their foreheads together. He kisses him deeply and then pulls away.
His hands slide down Shane’s arms then detour as his thumbs hook into the waistband of Shane’s pants and run along his skin. He feels him shiver against him. He leans up to nose up Shane’s neck, placing a soft kiss under his earlobe.
“We go for a drive. Then we come back and I fuck you on one of these. Which one do you like?”
Shane doesn't think much before answering. “I like your favorite.”
Ilya pulls back, eyes wide. “Liar, you made fun of 2 Porsches!” Shane giggles. “You pick which one you like most.”
Shane considers it for a second while Ilya continues to kiss along his jaw. He looks over at the line of cars to his right and points to the Lotus.
“The blue one.” A pause. “It reminds me of your eyes.”
Ilya pulls away, his deep blue eyes in question admiring Shane’s face. “I love you.”
Shane smiles sheepishly, a small blush blooming on his cheeks. “I love you.”
Ilya crushes their mouths together and they make out until they are both breathless. He doesn’t ever want to stop kissing Shane Hollander, but he has a plan and he’s going to stick to it. He whispers against his lips as he pulls away. “Good choice.”
Ilya reluctantly disentangles himself from Shane’s arms and walks over to a box on the wall retrieving the key for the Lotus. He shakes them in Shane’s direction. “Can I take you for a spin?”
Shane walks over and opens the passenger side door. “Let’s go.” The beam at each other over the top of the car and both climb in.
Ilya looks over at Shane. “You will like this. I promise.”
Shane turns to him, a smile dancing at the corner of his mouth. “I like doing anything with you.”
Ilya purses his lips, eyes sparkling, leans over and gives Shane a smooch. “Let's go, sweetheart.”
Ilya turns the key, the engine roaring to life.
Shane looks a bit startled at how loud it is, but he settles into the soft leather and puts on his seatbelt.
Ilya plugs the aux cord into his phone and queues up the album he had in mind for this drive.
As Rihanna's Consideration starts to play over the speakers, Ilya looks over at Shane and reaches over, squeezing his thigh.
“OK Mr. Fast Car,” Shane playfully jokes in his best imitation of Ilya’s accent, “let's see what you've got.” The twinkle of the challenge in his eye sets Ilya's nerve endings on fire.
As slow as he can manage, Ilya dramatically presses the garage door opener above him. He winks at Shane and wraps his large hands around the steering wheel, slowly pulling out and down his long driveway. Shane shakes his head, his smile fond.
Once he comes to a stop, he makes a big show of looking both ways, twice and turning slowly onto the road. Shane rolls his eyes.
He knows he has a couple of short sharp turns before he gets to the long stretch of road he planned, but torturing Shane was just bonus fun.
“So are you planning on going faster than 5 miles per hour?”
“So impatient.”
“You were the one who wanted to take me on a fast drive. That you've been thinking about this for a long time.” He pauses. “I remember when you first mentioned it to me all those years ago.”
Ilya turns briefly to look at him. “You do?”
“Yeah, I remembered how much you said you wanted it. And I didn’t admit that I kind of wanted it too.” He breathes out heavily, “I still do.”
Ilya flashes his crooked half smile sidelong at Shane. “I promise not to disappoint.”
He finally rounds the last corner and looks over at Shane again, a wicked grin spreading across his face. He places both hands on the wheel. “Buckle up, buttercup.”
Shane actually giggles at Ilya's use of the phrase, but he does not, in fact, have time to buckle up before Ilya floors it and sends them shooting down the road.
“Holy shittttt!” Shane's hand flies automatically to Ilya's thigh, gripping tightly. Ilya laughs openly as they speed through the streets. They zip around, excitement palpable while Rihanna pours through the speakers.
They pause pulling up to a yield and Ilya turns to see his normally buttoned-up boyfriend grinning like a loon.
Ilya whoops, “I knew you would like this!”
Shane shakes his head, but his eyes are sparkling, corners crinkling in delight and the smile on his face belies his attempt at deflecting.
Ilya turns his focus back to the road.
“Who is this?” Shane's gestures at the radio.
“You do not know Rihanna? Shane. She is very famous. I have played her for you before.” Ilya glances over.
Shane shrugs. “It doesn't always hit a brain cell, sorry.”
Ilya laughs, open and bubbly. “Is okay, I love you even though you don't know any music.”
Shane playfully scoffs. “I know music, just not the same kinds as you.”
“Oh yea? Who is your favorite band?” Ilya raises a questioning eyebrow at him.
Shane freezes for a second like he actually hadn't thought of a good lie before he says, “well, obviously…I like-”
Ilya gives him a second to think, but then cuts him off with a laugh because he can feel the strain of Shane trying to come up with a band and failing. He finds it endlessly amusing. “Don’t think too hard,” he teases.
“Hey!” Something clearly just occurs to him. “I like Avicii!”
“I’m impressed you came up with anyone.”
“Fuck you,” protests Shane, but he's grinning. He reaches over to place a hand on Ilya’s thigh and squeezes slightly; it’s warm and Ilya alights at the touch, a pleasant tension settling between them.
He leaves his hand for a minute, not moving, just resting there. Then he starts rubbing back and forth softly before dipping down and touching his inner thigh, dragging his fingers up the seam of Ilya’s jeans. He spreads his legs the barest amount, giving Shane a little more access, which he immediately takes advantage of and starts rubbing Ilya’s dick. He lets out the barest hint of a gasp, turning to Shane in mock shock.
“Fast cars turn you on now, hmm?”
He pulls to a stop and makes a point of revving the engine once to punctuate his point.
Shane looks at Ilya and pointedly doesn’t stop his movements. The corner of his mouth lifts imperceptibly. “Maybe. Are you complaining?”
Ilya returns the look. “Oh no, I will use this information.”
Shane pointedly adds more pressure, grinding his palm against Ilya’s rapidly hardening cock and Ilya’s head lolls back, lost in the sensation. He feels rather than sees the lights of the car behind them pulling up to the stop they have been sitting at for far too long. He lifts his head and sees the car in his rearview as Shane’s hand quickly pulls away. He feels the loss of his heat immediately.
Before they have the chance to honk, Ilya sighs and turns down the road, slow at first and then speeding up once he’s put some distance between them and the other car. Shane resumes caressing Ilya’s thigh and he’s painfully aware of how hard he already is.
They are flying down the road, Ilya dead set on getting them back to his place so he can ravage the gorgeous man sitting next to him. Shane looks so happy, actually enjoying this adventure. Ilya focuses on the road, trying to ignore his hard-on, but it is becoming increasingly difficult.
Before long they reach his driveway and he winds up it, perhaps coming in a little hot, before rapidly pressing the garage button.
“Look who's the impatient one now.” He laughs and pointedly shifts his hands lower, squeezing Ilya's cock through his jeans.
Ilya pulls into the spot, turning the car off. He grabs Shane by his shirt and hauls him over the center console, crushing their mouths together in a hot, wet tangle of teeth and lips.
After a minute or so of bruising each other's mouths, Ilya releases his shirt and turns to open his door, already out before Shane even reaches for his own door handle.
He swings the door open and hauls Shane up with two hands pushing him against the side of the car and kissing him hard before pulling Shane away by the hand and dragging him away. He knows the Lotus is still too hot for him to do what he so desperately wants to do to Shane right now.
Plus, he wants to fuck Shane on the hood of his favorite car. Especially now that he knows Shane doesn’t like that car, it’s so much more fun.
He backs Shane up to the Porsche next to them, boxing him against the hood kissing him deeply while shoving his hands under his shirt. Shane takes the hint and quickly pulls his shirt over his head, folding it quickly and then pausing for a second, realizing he doesn’t know where to put it.
Ilya wordlessly takes the shirt and tosses it onto the hood of the Lotus. He grasps Shane’s waist and spins him around, bending him over the hood, his hands on top of both of Shane’s, sliding him down until he’s flush with the car, his head tilted to one side. Ilya’s whole weight is on top of him and it feels exquisite.
In the back of his mind he's reminded by a little voice that if he's gonna sell these he should be careful about dents or scratches. He internally tells the voice to fuck off, because he can’t really be bothered to care right now.
He licks the edge of his ear before placing a kiss behind it and then dragging his tongue down the side of his throat. Shane moans shamelessly and it echoes through the garage. Ilya looks down and the look on his face is almost predatory.
“I knew your gorgeous moans would echo so nicely in here.” A blush blooms across Shane’s cheeks, but he just whimpers instead of retorting.
Ilya continues to kiss down his back, occasionally licking, while sliding his fingers gently down his sides. When he gets to Shane’s pants, he pulls just enough down to lavish attention to one of his favorite parts of Shane’s body; his back dimples. He kisses them both gently before licking and swirling his tongue inside. Shane’s whole body shudders as he shamelessly moans and his fingers twitch against the hood.
“Blyat. I am fucking obsessed with these.” Ilya whispers against his skin, pressing a kiss to each one again. He pulls Shane’s pants and underwear the rest of the way, letting it pool at his ankles alongside his sneakers, not moving to let Shane take anything off. He can hear Shane’s heavy breathing so acutely in the garage.
He palms Shane’s ass with both hands splayed wide, putting his thumbs in Shane’s dimples.
He drags the tips of his fingers reverently along the stretch marks that line the swell of his ass, swirling down his thick thighs.
“And these. Do you have any idea what these do to me?”
Shane lifts his head a bit to look back at Ilya. “My stretch marks? You like them?” Shane sounds dubious. Ilya traces his fingers along several paths.
He sounds wrecked even to himself. “They are perfect.” He falls to his knees, careful with how he lands on the concrete, and leans in to lick along the marks on his thighs, his hands back on Shane’s ass. He makes his way up, licking along the stripes as he goes, somehow gentle and filthy at the same time.
He palms him open and without hesitation licks a wide stripe up Shane’s center. A moan is punched out of Shane. He reaches his hole and licks around it teasingly, pulling little whimpers from Shane until he’s whining for it.
He breaches the muscle and tongues inside with fervor, bringing out the filthiest sounds he’s heard from Shane all evening, each one echoing off the walls of the garage. He keeps at it for a while, swirling his tongue in all manner of patterns and pressure until he can feel Shane quivering under him.
Truth be told, he could literally do this forever; taking Shane apart this way was his favorite. The way he tastes, the sounds it pulls from somewhere deep within him, the way his legs shake, almost vibrating with pleasure. He hasn’t even touched his dick and yet he can see it hanging heavy in front of him, tip already glistening, framed by the grill of the car.
He places a wet kiss on his cheek before pulling away to stand up. Shane whines at the loss of contact, but doesn't move from where he's splayed across the hood. Ilya walks back over to the Porsche and grabs some lube from the glove box; at this point in their relationship, Ilya has the good sense to stash bottles of it everywhere.
He walks back to Shane and kneels down between his legs again, palming his ass. He pours some lube on his fingers and warms them up before gently pressing two fingers against Shane’s entrance and massaging it with teasing, circular motions. Shane starts whimpering, pushing back against his fingers, impatient as always to get Ilya inside of him.
“Always so greedy.”
Shane throws a look over his shoulder that is both scorching and annoyed. “You’re the one taking your sweet time.” He arches his back, spreading his legs as wide as he can with his pants still around his ankles, and shakes his ass. “Come onnnn.”
Ilya takes pity on him and breaches him with one finger, slowly opening him up. Shane’s groan sounds so much louder in the garage and he cannot get enough. He wants to coax every little whimper and moan out of Shane until it’s all he can hear reverberating around them. Ilya is so hard, and still fully clothed, but he’s been thinking about this forever; what’s a little more waiting?
Shane’s little mmms and ahhhs are so utterly intoxicating, he almost gets lost in it. He’s stuttering for breath beneath him now, so he adds a second finger, slowly working him open. He crooks them to find that sweet spot inside him and when he does, Shane arches off the car, a long drawn out “fuuuuckkkk” pouring from his lips. After a minute, he adds a third finger and Shane starts whimpering, his arms tense against the hood, hands fisting against nothing.
Shane looks over his shoulder again, his big brown eyes wet and pleading for more, so Ilya takes pity on him and slowly pulls his fingers out.
He grabs the edge of his shirt and pulls it over his head in one swift motion. He reaches for the button of his jeans, pops it open and slowly drags his zipper down. He stands right behind Shane and pulls his pants and briefs down before slowly grazing his hands again along the zigzagging lines across Shane’s ass.
He palms Shane’s ass open with one hand, his thumb naturally slotting into one of his back dimples, and lines up his aching cock with the other. He breaches him slowly, rocking in and out until he’s mostly inside, finally letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
Shane is shaking all over, sweat glistening between his shoulder blades, the small of his back. Normally, Ilya loves to see Shane’s face while they’re fucking, but this view is second best. Ilya leans over Shane, covering him with his whole body, but careful to not put too much of his weight down, lest he literally cave in the hood of the car. He places his hands on top of Shane’s, moving them until they are under his shoulders to better brace himself, and licks the sweat beading between his shoulder blades, tonguing the dimples he finds there too.
He pulls out and pushes back in at a maddeningly slow pace, bodies still flush. Shane is trapped between Ilya and the hood, so there’s not much he can do to control the speed. After the rush of the drive in the Porsche, the slow thrusts are almost infuriating, but Ilya just wants to take his time cataloguing every moan and whimper bouncing off the walls.
Shane whines under him, “Ilya, please.”
And with that he can’t take it anymore and starts to pick up the pace. Ilya straightens up to get a better foothold on the floor, grasps Shane’s hips and pumps harder. The car under them is shaking and Shane’s breathing is so ragged, his dick dripping precum onto the concrete, still untouched.
“Ilya, fuck, I’m…fuck I’m so close. Please…touch me.”
Ilya leans down and slides his forearm under Shane’s chest, hauling him up until his back is flush with Ilya’s chest. Shane’s hands scramble at the change of angle and reach upwards, tangling in Ilya’s curls. He reaches around and wraps a hand on Shane’s dripping cock, sliding up his length and rubbing the precome all over while still fucking into him relentlessly.
Ilya could not imagine listening to anything better than the euphonic sounds swirling around them: Shane’s shameless chorus of ah fuck fuck fuck, Ilya’s string of incoherent Russian, the wet slap of skin on skin.
All at once, it becomes too much and Ilya thinks he can’t stave off his release for another second, his hips stuttering. He grunts with the effort of not coming as his hand pumps Shane’s cock, his mouth right against Shane’s ear. “Fuck Shane, come for me.”
As soon as he says his name, Shane goes almost still in his arms before tensing and erupting all over the hood of the car. Ilya grips Shane’s chest tighter, the hand that was on Shane’s dick now wrapping around his stomach to keep every inch of their bodies touching and slams his hips forward twice more, pleasure shooting up his spine as his own orgasm hits him like a train.
Ilya blinks, feeling like he blacked out momentarily, but he is still holding Shane tightly against his chest. Shane releases a shuddering breath as his legs sag a bit beneath them.
“Ilya…fuck.”
Ilya kisses the side of Shane’s neck in response, all snark fucked out of his body at the moment. When they both can inhale properly, Ilya pulls out slowly and Shane mewls a bit at the loss. He shuffles back a step and leans down to pull up his pants. Shane braces himself on the hood breathing heavily, but doesn’t make any moves towards putting his own pants on.
Ilya reaches forward and drags a finger upwards between Shane’s cheeks where he can feel his cum dripping out of him. Shane shivers at the sensation. He looks up at the mess on the hood.
“I’m a mess, but I think your car might be worse off.” He reaches down for his pants and pulls them up, turning around to face Ilya. They are definitely going to need a shower after this.
Ilya looks over his shoulder at the hood and shrugs, then pulls Shane in by the waist, his eyes sparkling, “Worth it.”
He leans down and captures Shane’s mouth in a deep kiss, tongues tangling for what feels like forever.
When he pulls away, Ilya is smiling wide. He grips Shane’s ass pointedly. “So, what do you think of my cars now?”
Shane laughs and rolls his eyes. “Maybe I get the appeal.”