Work Text:
And the idea that inspired the AU
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Ilya, what the fuck, you were supposed to be back in our bed an hour ago-” Shane froze as he entered Ilya’s study, the room now filled with a bunch of his groaning, hurt men.
Most of them were sporting bloody noses or bleeding gashes, scattered in chairs and couches throughout the room. Ilya’s right hand man, Cliff, was being stitched up by the doctor Ilya had convinced to do house calls after he had protected his family from a rival mob years ago.
“What happened?” Shane squawked, scanning his husband’s face and body for injuries. But of course, Ilya wouldn’t have gone out on a job this small. Well, it was supposed to be small, just a hit on a rival mob that was terrorizing a neighborhood nearby. The area was technically in no man’s land and not Ilya’s turf but his husband, though some may laugh at the idea of it, couldn’t abide by hurting innocent people outright. He relished hurting people who fucked with him or his people or hurt others senselessly though.
“Sorry, moya lyubov, these idiots fucked up the hit,” Ilya murmured, leaning up from his arm chair to accept the kiss Shane placed on his lips. He let him check for any injuries even as he glared at his men behind his shoulder. Ilya chuckled once he was done putting the wrath of god in his men once again and Shane still wasn’t done worrying yet. “You know I didn’t go out, baby.”
“I know, I just-” He didn’t finish the thought, just placed another searing kiss on his lips. Shane had accepted what his husband's job involved a long time ago, he wouldn’t be able to remain sane otherwise, but seeing all the hurt fresh in the room was flooding even his desensitized system.
“Hold on,” Ilya glared up at him after pulling him off with a wet noise, ”didn’t I tell you to wait for me?”
Shane squirmed in his tightening arms. “Yes, but you took so long,” he whined out, knowing full well that it wasn’t going to work on Ilya but ready to accept whatever punishment he would be getting because he knew it would be just as hot, albeit more torturous than the fucking he was expecting to have been getting by now.
“Eager little slut, huh?” Ilya murmured against his lips, the vice like grip around him not letting up as Shane whimpered, already worked up from the dildo he had opened himself up with dutifully and the plug he had put inside himself before coming in here to see what was taking Ilya so long.
“Ilya,” he whimpered, as he slid into the other man’s lap instinctually to rub against him, his weight being supported by one leg as Ilya spread his legs to accommodate him. His feverish face found its way to the crook of Ilya’s neck as the other man rucked up his shirt to get at his smooth skin.
The moment was broken by a loud ahem. “Sir-”
“Shut your idiot face, Marly. You better be interrupting me for a good reason or I’m going to pull out those fresh stitches myself.”
Marly audibly swallowed before speaking again. He was probably the only one brave enough to continue. But he was the right hand man for a reason.
“We need to figure out a plan, sir, in case they figure out who called the hit and decide to retaliate.”
Shane groaned, moving to get off his lap, but Ilya’s strong grip held him in place. He inexplicably moved his hand to paw at Shane’s cock through his pants instead. Shane’s face was against his neck again, his face flushing red, embarrassment and desire fighting to win out inside of him.
“Ilya-” he gasped, his cock twitching even as he stopped himself from bucking into Ilya’s hand. He was no stranger to Ilya’s exhibition kink, especially given how they had met when Ilya hired him as an escort. He was sitting on his lap half the time in shady clubs and meeting rooms. It had been a while though…
“I can multitask, since you’re so eager, huh?” Ilya said with a lick of his lips and a dangerous glint in his eyes as he looked around the room at his men. “Anyone have a problem?”
He took his gun off his hip holster and put it on the desk. He didn’t point it at anyone, just put it there for all to see, close enough to reach. Shane shook his head, letting out an incredulous huff of air. His husband was insane and he was so blindingly, achingly in love.
They all stammered their “no”s as they looked anywhere but at Shane, knowing the drill by now about how their boss was equal parts lacking in any shame when it came to public displays and possessive of Shane if any of them even looked too hard at the pretty man. They had learned to just not tempt fate by looking and risking sporting boners that might get them shot if Ilya noticed.
“Okay, Marly, go ahead,” Ilya deadpanned, even as he continued palming at Shane’s cock.
Marly began talking but the sounds of the room faded as Shane lost himself in the sensations of finally being touched after waiting all night. He had given up on feeling self conscious by now, his pulsing desire winning out as he bucked into Ilya’s hand.
Ilya had his hand down the back of Shane’s loose sweatpants in no time.
“No, change that to four guys at each entrance. I don’t want to take any more risks. We already lost two men today.”
Shane was dizzy with what Ilya holding up a normal conversation while palming at his ass was doing for him. It was fucked and also incredibly, blindingly hot at the same time.
Ilya took advantage of his two highest ranking men doing some more planning based on his feedback to slide his hand down to Shane’s hole.
“Fuck, baby, did you get yourself all ready for me?” Ilya murmured, his voice finally shaking a bit to reveal what this was doing to him too.
“Uh huh,” Shane whined against his neck, sweat beading at his forehead already as Ilya played with the plug.
‘You’ve been bad but I’ll still play with you, pretty boy,” Ilya murmured, his voice reverent, the admonishment-compliment combination making Shane whine some more.
“Was going to just make you hump my leg till you came all pretty for me. But since you got yourself all ready.” Ilya roughly lifted him up without warning, pulling his sweatpants down. He held Shane up with one hand, as he used the other one to pull down his own loose silk pants he was wearing, just enough to pull out his hard cock.
“Ilya, we should-” Shane didn’t even know how he wanted to finish that sentence. They had never gone this far in front of other people. People he would probably have to look in the eyes later. But he was too far gone after waiting so long to make any kind of real effort to stop this. He tucked away the quiet thought in the back of his mind asking him to check in on what was spurring this one for his husband emotionally, given the little bit he knew about the events of the evening so far. Later.
“The only way you’re going to get fucked tonight is if you ride me right here.” Ilya said, breaking Shane out of his thoughts, his voice commanding now, all humor drained out of it.
His husband loved making him beg.
“Fuck, please, yes- yes, sir,” Shane choked out, too desperate to even think about an alternative scenario of not being filled up by his husband tonight. He needed Ilya inside of him already and he would do anything to make that happen, apparently.
The plug was out of him before he could fully process what was happening, his brain moving treacle-slow with want. He felt unbearably empty for a moment and must have made a wounded sound because Ilya was shushing him, sturdy hands running along his hips soothingly as he guided him downwards.
Shane almost sobbed in relief as Ilya’s cock pushed through, his hole still loose and wet from the plug and the copious amounts of lube he had used. It still felt like a stretch though, Ilya always did, but he loved the never-quite-prepped-enough burn as he first pushed into him. He lived in that moment often when the other man was away on business of some shady variety or other, getting himself off on that initial relief-pain-pleasure of being filled.
Ilya bottomed out in a slow, slick slide that pulled breathless moans out of Shane that he tried to bite back, given where they were. He almost laughed at the thought, like that was going to do anything, given how exposed he was. His husband was absolutely insane, he knew this when he married him, and if he was being honest with himself, he matched the other man well, though he was better at hiding it.
He could barely hear the conversation happening around him, only that Ilya was somehow responding and that his men seemed to be talking very fast, surely in a deperate bid to get the fuck out of the room as quickly as possible.
Ilya wasn’t moving, was the problem. Shane panted as he adjusted to the fullness but was denied any movement or friction.
“Ilya,” he groaned, mouthing wetly at the other man’s neck, unable to say any more than that.
“Hmm, I’m busy. If you want to come, you’re going to have to fuck yourself on it.”
Shane felt the prick of tears gathering at his lashline in frustration. God, this was just like Ilya to make him think he was going to get what he wanted and then move the goal post. He lifted himself up on his shaky legs and did as he was told, knowing his husband would happily let him warm his cock all night if needed before he caved.
Shane fucked himself on Ilya’s cock, the lack of proper leverage making the movements not quite enough even as little uh-uhs were punched out of him. Sweat was trickling down his face and onto his upper lip. He licked his lips and tasted the salt of his effort as he sped up the pace, grabbing onto Ilya’s thigh for leverage.
“So desperate,” Ilya murmured approvingly, big hands coming up to hold Shane’s hips loosely, teasing him with more touch without actually gripping or helping Shane as he continued riding Ilya’s cock.
Ilya loved when he could reduce Shane down to his base desires, so truly desperate for him that he didn’t care where he was taken, so lost in getting what he needed that it stripped away everything else. Given he had been a high end escort for businessmen before Ilya took him thoroughly off the market, he didn’t have much shame or qualms about sex beyond the submissive act he put on. Ilya loved that his husband matched his freak and also could handle what his job entailed. He couldn’t be with anyone who couldn’t deal with that.
But this, this was something even they hadn’t managed to do yet. Though he was good at not letting it on, this was burning him up and requiring every last bit of his patience. He wanted to kick all his men out right then and really fuck his husband till he was crying and begging. But that wouldn’t be fun, not yet anyways. He could…
Ilya tightening his grip, even as he paid no real attention to the man gasping and moaning on his lap. Shane stilled and Ilya took that opportunity to force him down onto his cock, moving his hips expertly to hit his prostate head on.
“Oh my god, fuck, Ilya,” Shane groaned, his vision whitening out for a moment, the surge of pleasure wracking through his body. Ilya did the same thing a couple times, Shane’s hands scrambling for blind purchase as he closed his eyes tight, overwhelmed by the blinding onslaught of pleasure. He was so so close. But of course, a moment later, Ilya stilled again.
Shane heard him answer a question, the words far away as his whole body and mind screamed in protest. He couldn’t be sure he wasn’t the one screaming.
“Oh my god, fuck you, fuck you,” he laughed out, sweaty forehead resting on Ilya’s neck. He bit down on the pulse he found there, thrumming, giving away once again how much this was getting to Ilya too. Ilya gripped his hair, clutching at the sweaty hair without pulling him off yet.
“Yeah, you too, Marly. Boys. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.” He heard the surely shit-eating grin on Ilya’s face even as he breathed in big, lungfuls of air, his heart beating wildly in his chest.
He heard the hurried scramble for the door as the men got out of the room as fast as they could, a couple mumbled “jesus christ”s clearly audible in the huge, echoey study.
“Did you need to scar those guys more than they already had been tonight?” he huffed out, pulling back to gaze up at his crazy, beautiful husband.
“Mm, better than me shooting some knees, probably.” He shrugged.
“God, shut up and fuck me.” Ilya was still fully inside Shane to the hilt, a fact he needed to remind Ilya of immediately before he fucking combusted.
“Mm, you think you deserve it?” Ilya grabbed his face, tightening the grip as Shane’s eyes closed. “Answer me.”
Shane blinked his eyes open, gaze hazy, feeling like he was deep underwater and the only things tethering him here were Ilya’s hands and his cock inside of him.
“Please, Ilya, please, please.” He was fully begging now and he did it unabashedly, used to having to beg.
Ilya tilted his head, thinking, a glint in his eye that Shane didn’t like.
“Hm, or I could make you sit here and warm my cock all night till I’m good and ready to go to bed. And then I could use my toy and put him to bed hard. Since you want to interrupt my work and be a slut in front of my guys.”
“Ilya, please, I’ll be good, fuck.” Shane closed his eyes again as he felt the tear rolling down his cheek, so fucking on edge that he was one surge of emotion away from sobbing outright.
He felt warm wetness on his face as Ilya licked up the falling tear.
“So pretty,” he murmured approvingly. Shane squirmed under the attention but looked up into his hazel eyes, silently begging again.
“No, I wouldn’t do that to you after you were so patient for me, hm?” His husband grinned at him as he stood up, Shane’s legs wrapping around the other man as he lifted him up, the motion of Ilya walking creating the little bit of friction that had Shane gasping and moaning again after endless, torturous moments of nothing.
Ilya kissed him, knowing the layout of their house well enough that he didn’t need to look as he walked them to their bedroom and deposited Shane gingerly onto the bed. Shane whined at the loss as Ilya pulled out of him and sat back on his heels to admire his work.
Shane’s hole was already red and puffy from being stretched open, shining with lube. Shane huffed but spread his legs wider for Ilya. Something about seeing him like this made Ilya fully feral and only good things would come out of that. And he would also hopefully be coming from that.
“Fuck.” Shane screamed, the jolt of pain-pleasure wiping any humor from his mind as Ilya slapped his hole. “Stop,” he whimpered, even as he lifted his hips into the sensation, his body betrayed his words.
“You really thought you weren’t going to be punished?”
“I thought you were going to fuck me, asshole,” he gritted out, knowing he would regret it but unable to back down from a challenge. And possibly, egging his husband on to take out some of his frustrations from the day on Shane’s body.
It earned him another slap right over his hole, this one harder than the last, rendering him speechless as he gasped, open-mouthed, his whole body teetering on the edge of too much and still not enough. After a few more of those, Ilya moved on to slap the soft underside of his thighs, marking them red to match. Helpless tears escaped the corners of his eyes as he yelled out a litany of “I’m sorry” and “Ilya, please,” “fuck, harder.”
He could feel Ilya rubbing his slick cock against the hollow of where his thigh met his knee as he was punished and he relished in how this was affecting him too.
“Ilya, please please, fuck me. Baby, please.” Shane gripped at Ilya’s leg, squeezing. Yellow.
Ilya soothed him by pressing wet kisses to every spot his hands had slapped, murmuring lovingly. “So good, moya lyubov, so good for me.” Ilya’s kisses settled him, gave him a bit of a reprieve. He didn’t make him wait much longer before he was pushing in slowly. Shane hissed, the burn of it worse after his hole had been slapped, but the pleasure took over before it hurt too much.
Ilya pushed his legs up over his shoulders as he bottomed out, leaning down to place sloppy kisses on his lips, opening his mouth up with his tongue. He began rocking into him maddeningly slowly, knowing Shane wasn’t going to last much longer, drawing it out just a bit more.
The truth was, no matter how much Ilya liked to front to the world and how much they liked to play, at the end of the night, he would end up fucking him slow and missionary like this, so he could kiss him and look down at his pretty husband when they both came for each other.
And no one but Shane Hollander and God needed to know about that.
His pace sped up and he was fucking Shane up the bed and into the headboard now, his arm shielding the back of his head before he actually hit the board.
“Close, close, Ilya, need to come,” Shane’s head was lolled back into his hand, eyes rolling back too as he tried to hold on, asking for permission in such a beautiful display it nearly took the little bit of breath Ilya had left away.
“Come for me, tigryonak.” Little tiger.
Ilya’s stupid nickname for him along with the permission to let go was too much for him as Shane pushed up to meet Ilya’s thrusts, body going taut with his release as ropes of come shot out, painting his own chest white.
Ilya fucked him through it, chasing his own release and reaching it just as Shane was starting to feel oversensitive, though he hardly minded being fucked all the way through that into another orgasm if Ilya had been feeling even more evil tonight. But it seemed the exhaustion of the day and the lead up of this evening had been too much waiting for him too.
Ilya pressed frantic kisses onto his feverish skin as he came down from the high, brushing Shane’s sweaty hair off his forehead to place loving kisses there too.
Shane closed his eyes, too blissed out to move as he felt his husband pull out and then move around the room, getting them supplies to clean up and hydrate. He felt himself being cleaned up and then, a warm weight pressed across his side as his husband joined him in bed.
He cracked an eye open. “Good?” he mumbled, sliding closer to nestle his head against Ilya’s chest.
Ilya sighed, and Shane felt the movement lift his head up and then back down. “The best.”
“You okay though? About earlier?” Shane finally pulled at the thread he had noted before.
Ilya sighed again, the tone of it different this time. “They will not be so sloppy next time. I will make sure.”
Shane nodded against him and then reached up to cradle the side of his face with his hand. “Hey, I love you, you know that?”
Ilya chuckled. “Yes, you tell me. A lot.”
“Shut up, tough guy. Don’t make me tell everyone your favorite position is missionary.”
“Shane, you wouldn’t,” Ilya whined, pinching his side.
Shane laughed, the sound big and beautiful in the silence. “Your secret’s safe with me.”