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Ilya walked in the door of his house, dropping his gym bag to the floor. He’d just spent a grueling couple of hours at the Centaurs gym, helping some of the rookies with their form and training his own body. Shane was spending his day off at a magazine shoot - which meant he would arrive home this evening completely exhausted.
He kicked his shoes off and strolled towards the kitchen. He could hear the kettle boiling and some movement and he knew Anya was at the Hollanders house for the weekend.
“Shane? Is that you - are you home? I don’t see your car parked out fr-“ Ilya stopped dead in his tracks, hand bracing against the doorway.
Before his eyes was the most glorious ass he had ever seen. His husband's glorious ass. Bound in a skimpy little jockstrap. Ilya’s eyes latched on to the bulbous cheeks sitting pert over the underwear. His eyes travelled the length of Shane’s muscular back and back down.
Shane turned slowly, a smirk already plastered across his face. His full-bodied muscular physique proudly on display, showing off every minute of hard work he put in to look like that. Tan, toned torso gleaming with something - was it glitter? He slowly lifted the pink mug to his lips, watching Ilya as he devoured every inch of his body.
“Hello” Shane grinned.
Ilya was cemented in place. He didn’t dare move an inch, afraid he would wake up from what surely was a dream. Realizing he was standing there with his mouth hanging open like a damn fool, he promptly closed it.
“Shane - what is this? What-“ Ilya was stunned. He had seen his husband post magazine shoots before, but they still caught him off guard. And Shane never wore his shoot outfits home, usually too embarrassed and didn’t want to show him any pictures. He usually had to beg to see some photos before they were released for the world's consumption.
Shane had the audacity to throw a confused look on his face and twirled. He spun in a fucking circle. Slowly.
Shane pouted his lips, “You don’t like?”
Ilya composed himself enough to cross the kitchen floor without tripping. He stopped directly in front of Shane, crowding into his space and looked at his gorgeous husband in all his glory.
He trailed a finger up the length of Shane’s arm, across his collarbone and down the center of his chest. He watched the goosebumps raise in his wake. His finger reached the waistband of the jockstrap and pulled it out slightly, then releasing and letting it snap back lightly against Shane’s skin. Shane was already half-hard, bulging out through his tiny underwear. He looked obscene. Ilya was just shy of dropping to his knees and panting like a dog.
Ilya reached a big hand down and grabbed Shane’s cock through the fabric, held him gently and felt the length harden responsively in his hand. Shane’s head tipped back, baring his throat. His eyes were glazing over, heavy lidded gazing up at Ilya.
“Mm, good boy,” Ilya mumbled, voice hoarse and thick with need.
He reached both hands out, sliding them around to grip at Shane’s bare ass and haul him closer. Ilya’s lips crashed into Shane’s, their teeth knocking and tongues dancing a viscous dance. He swept his tongue around Shane’s mouth, felt him go liquid in his hands. His hands kneaded roughly at the skin of Shane’s ass, fingers gripping tight and spreading his cheeks apart. Without warning, he hoisted Shane up and pushed them back into the fridge. Shane’s legs wrapped securely around Ilya’s waist, hands shooting to his hair and gripping tight.
Ilya groaned at the feeling of his husband's hard cock rubbing against his stomach, could feel Shane lift his hips and grind against him. He felt fingers tighten in his hair and yank on his curls hard. The growl that left his mouth wasn’t entirely human.
He kissed Shane ferociously with his back pressed against the fridge. There was nowhere for Shane to escape, not that he would want to. They were a mixture of greedy hands and messy tongues and the heat rose between them like a wildfire.
Ilya spun on his heels, whipping them around to sit Shane on the island. Shane pulled Ilya’s mouth from his and placed both hands on either side, leaning back. Ilya pinned Shane between his arms, leaning close but not enough to touch.
“Fuck, Shane-“ Ilya groaned, drawing out his name. Hanging his head and shaking it softly. He was hard as a rock, almost painfully so. Could feel his own want throbbing underneath his trackpants.
The angle Shane was leaning back on tensed his stomach and his thighs. Ilya couldn’t fucking breathe. His cock stood tall and proud, aching to be freed from its restraints. Ilya leaned down slightly, pulling at the waistband and watched Shane’s cock spring free. He released the waistband and set it underneath the hard length, forcing it upright and keeping a light pressure on the base. Ilya got that confirmation of pressure from the breathy moan that fell from Shane’s full pouted lips.
Ilya bent low and sucked the tip of his leaking cock into his mouth, licking just at the tip. He felt Shane’s hips twitch upwards.
“Don’t move.” Ilya commanded. His eyes burned up into Shane’s.
He moved his gaze down to watch Shane’s aching cock leaking with precum. Opening his mouth wide, he took Shane into his mouth in one long go. He felt his cock hit the back of his throat and then some. He bobbed up and down lightly, no real intention behind it other than to savor. He alternated between long and short movements, listening to Shane lose all restraints. He brought him closer and closer to the edge, fingers kneading harshly into his perfect thighs.
Ilya knew exactly how to get his husband off, how quick or slow he needed to be, where to touch. He also knew how to edge his husband to insanity. He could feel Shane’s legs tensing, felt the telltale clench of his lower abs.
Then, Ilya pulled off Shane abruptly. He looked down at his husband panting up at him, that pleading look crossing his face.
“Flip. Lie on your stomach.”
Shane shuffled around on the island, palming at his cock and lay down flat on his stomach. From this angle, Ilya thought he might come on the spot.
Ilya grabbed at his ass and spread his cheeks apart hungrily, watching his hole pucker when the cool air hit. He wasted no time leaning forward and licking a thick stripe up and over Shane’s hole. He felt his husband buck his hips towards Ilya’s tongue. Ilya kept licking, then pushed his tongue deep inside. Shane could do nothing more than lie there and take it, Ilya greedily licking and poking his tongue into his hole.
Ilya dropped one hand and opened the drawer of the island - pulling out a small bottle of lube. He squeezed more than enough onto his fingers and dove right back in. He pushed two fingers inside Shane gently, pulling back and pushing in again further. He watched as Shane’s hole greedily swallowed his fingers, clenching tight as he fucked them in harder and harder.
Shane was a whimpering mess under Ilya, his hands clawing at the edge of the island, ass arched up into the air. The slutty fucking jockstrap still covered his legs.
Ilya pulled his fingers out and Shane grunted at the loss of contact. He ripped his own pants down his legs, cock springing free. Swiping a lube coated hand over himself, he leaned forward and pressed slowly into Shane. A string of cursing and moans fell from him.
Ilya fucked into Shane slowly, easing the full length of him inside. Once Shane has adjusted, Ilya pulled out to the tip and slammed back home. He started up a punishing pace, thrusting ferociously into Shane. He could feel him clenching and pulling him in, gripping his cock so tight Ilya was seeing stars. He kept his pace hard and fast, could see Shane arch his ass up higher into his thrusts.
Ilya leaned down to mouth at Shane’s back, biting and open mouth kissing anywhere he could reach. He could feel the familiar tingle settle low in his spine, could feel his vision blacking out -
“Ilya, I’m coming“ Shane breathed.
“Come,” Ilya ordered. He saw Shane’s entire body tense and shudder under the weight of his orgasm. Felt his hole clench unforgivingly tight around his cock as he came. Ilya thrust hard into Shane and gripped the countertop as he came inside Shane with a groan.
Shane was liquid laying on the counter as Ilya pulled out. He watched his release trickle down Shane’s hole and onto the marble underneath. Ilya licked his lips.
He grabbed Shane’s hips, gently coaxing him to flip around and pulled him upright. Shane gently fitted their lips together, this kiss softer and less heat filled than before. Ilya held him for a minute, slowly and leisurely kissing his husband.
“This you are keeping” Ilya stated matter of factly.
Shane huffed a laugh, his last grin stretching across his face, “Come on pervert, let’s go shower”.
Ilya padded after him. Maybe he was no better than a dog after all.