Chapter 20: The Long Game: Chapter 20

“Found you.”

Shane nearly toppled off the stability ball he was balancing on at the sound of Ilya’s voice. “Jesus.”

He steadied himself and managed to hold his position, standing with his knees slightly bent on top of the large blue ball. It would have been easier—and would have made more sense—to simply hop off the ball, but he felt like showing off a bit.

“Impressive,” Ilya drawled. In the mirrors that lined one wall, Shane watched him saunter across the floor of the spacious home gym that took up most of Ilya’s basement. “How long have you been on there? Two hours?”

He leaned against the weight rack next to Shane, and their eyes met in the mirror. Like Shane, Ilya was wearing only workout shorts, his feet bare.

“I don’t know,” Shane said tersely. “You made me lose count.”

“Aw.”

“Good morning, by the way.”

“Yes.”

“Seems like you slept well.” Shane had been awake for over an hour, but had left Ilya to sleep.

“Very well. Full of energy now.” Ilya’s gaze raked over Shane as he said it, and Shane wobbled on the ball.

“Are you hungry?” Shane asked.

“Always.” Ilya pushed off the weight rack and parked himself in front of Shane. His lips were twisted into that damn half smile that always meant trouble.

“Go away.”

“You are the perfect height for kissing now. Taller than me, even.”

“Don’t.”

Ilya leaned in. “Can you do it? Kiss me without falling?”

Probably not, but that didn’t mean Shane wouldn’t try. “Bring it.”

Ilya tilted his head and brought his lips close. When it became apparent that he was going to make Shane come to him, Shane huffed and closed the distance. For one magical second, they were kissing. Then Shane fell forward, and Ilya, the asshole, stepped backward.

“Thanks, shithead,” Shane grumbled as he pulled himself off the floor.

Ilya was laughing, one hand planted on the mirror.

“That’s going to leave a handprint,” Shane said, which, yes. Even could hear how insufferable he sounded.

“Oh no,” Ilya teased, but he removed his hand.

“Did you come down here to work out?”

Ilya walked over to the weight rack and sat on the bench tucked inside. He spread his legs wide, showing off his muscular thighs and the bulge that pressed against the front of his shorts. He stretched his arms over his head, grinning lazily at Shane. “No.”

Shane’s gaze embarked on a journey, starting with the long fingers brushing the barbell that rested near the top of the rack, then down Ilya’s sculpted biceps and forearms. Then it traveled to his broad, lightly furred chest and the chain that glinted next to his bear tattoo, and finally down to his impressive abs and the trail of hair that disappeared into the waistband of his shorts.

Jesus. His boyfriend was fucking stunning.

Shane stepped into the wide V of Ilya’s legs. Their thighs brushed together, and Ilya placed firm hands on Shane’s waist, guiding him closer.

“I don’t understand your fitness regimen,” Shane said as he combed his fingers through Ilya’s rumpled curls.

“Why?” Ilya leaned forward and kissed Shane’s stomach. Then did it again, and again. Gentle caresses of his lips against Shane’s bare skin that sent sparks shooting down to Shane’s toes.

“Because you don’t have one,” Shane said, though his voice sounded less admonishing than he wanted and a whole lot more trembly.

“I have one. Is just normal, not like yours.” He kissed the jut of Shane’s pelvic bone, where it stuck out above his shorts. “More running and weights. Not…” He waved a hand in the direction the ball had rolled off to. “Standing on balls.”

“Stability and balance,” Shane argued through quickening breaths, “are just as important as mass and endurance.”

“Mm.” Ilya slid his hands around to Shane’s inner thighs, then pushed up under his shorts. His thumbs glided over the length of Shane’s new and unsurprising erection, and Shane let out an equally unsurprising gasp.

“I like mass,” Ilya purred. “And endurance.”

“Ugh,” Shane said, but it was followed by a sharp inhale when Ilya curled his fingers to cup Shane’s balls.

“Maybe I have more balls in my workout,” Ilya mused.

“You are the absolute worst.”

Ilya only replied with a wicked grin, then he tugged Shane’s shorts and underwear down until they pooled around his ankles.

“Fuck,” Shane said.

“Yes.” He took Shane’s cock in his hand and stroked him with loose, gentle fingers. It made Shane feel like his bones were melting.

Ilya kept his gaze turned up, locked on Shane’s. His eyes were dancing with amusement and possibly simple, unchecked joy, which made Shane realize it had been a long time since he’d seen Ilya looking so happy. Shane smiled back at him, heart fluttering, as he allowed himself to let go of everything that wasn’t . Wasn’t .

“I love you so fucking much,” Shane said. He smoothed a thumb over one of Ilya’s thick eyebrows. “I was counting the minutes all week. Couldn’t wait to see you again.”

“I could tell. By how you drove here in the middle of the night.”

“Don’t try to make me feel weird about that. You love it when I’m eager.”

Ilya rubbed his thumb lightly over the head of Shane’s cock. “I sleep better with you,” he admitted.

Shane was struggling to focus on the conversation, but he forced himself to. It was important. “I wish we could sleep together every night.”

“I know. Now turn around.”

“Turn around? Why?”

Ilya grinned and rotated one finger in the air. Shane still didn’t understand, but he turned his back to Ilya as instructed and…then he understood.

“Oh god,” he whispered, staring at himself in the wall of mirrors, naked except for the shorts pooled at his feet. His rock-hard cock was pointing directly at its own reflection.

Ilya stood behind him and kissed the side of his neck. Then he wrapped an arm around Shane’s waist and took his erection in hand.

Shane closed his eyes. He couldn’t—

“No,” Ilya said in a low voice. “Watch. See how beautiful you are like this.”

“I don’t think I can. It’s too much.”

Another soft kiss to his neck, and then to his temple. “Stay there. One second.”

Ilya left, and Shane cracked one eye open. He turned to watch Ilya, and to avoid looking at his own reflection. Ilya was standing near the stairs, and a second later, the overhead lights dimmed by half.

“Better?” Ilya asked.

Shane glanced back at the mirror. It was less intense, with the lights dimmed. “Why do you have sexy mood lighting in your gym?”

“You have it in yours.”

“Yeah. For yoga and meditation. Two things you don’t do.”

“But you do them. So I have lights that dim. For you.”

Shane’s heart wobbled. “Oh.”

“And—” Ilya returned to his position behind Shane, wrapping an arm across Shane’s chest and pulling him back to rest against Ilya’s bare torso “—is good for this.”

It was still too much for Shane. He relaxed his eyes so he couldn’t see himself too clearly, and focused on Ilya’s hand on his cock, and his solid body behind him.

Ilya released him, then pulled something from his own shorts pocket. Shane turned his head to see.

“Do you always bring lube packets to workouts?” he asked dryly.

Ilya only smiled and opened the packet. He squeezed the lube into his palm, then returned his hand to Shane’s dick. “Is a shame you don’t have foreskin,” he said.

“Why? Because if I had some you wouldn’t have to walk around with pockets full of lube?”

“Why did your parents cut it off?”

“I don’t know! It’s not like we talk about it.”

“Maybe I will ask them.”

“You’d better not!”

Ilya laughed, and kissed behind Shane’s ear. “We do not talk about these freckles on the back of your neck enough.”

“I’m not—” Shane’s breath hitched as Ilya increased the speed of his strokes. “I’m not too familiar with them.”

“They are just here. A little group of them.” Ilya’s lips brushed the base of Shane’s neck, making Shane shiver. “Adorable.”

“Oh.” Shane closed his eyes and rocked slightly into Ilya’s hand. His ass bumped against Ilya’s erection, which he was keen to do something about, but for now he was happy to let Ilya do whatever this was.

Ilya kept murmuring things in his ear as he stroked him, telling him how beautiful he was, how sexy. Some of his praise was in Russian, and Shane felt himself sink into a place where he didn’t feel quite so ridiculous being on display like this.

“Do you see,” Ilya asked, “how you look when you are gone like this? Stunning, Hollander.”

Shane opened his eyes and gasped at what he saw. He’d never seen himself like this. He’d seen like this—eyes hazy with lust, mouth slack, cheeks flushed—but never his own face. Even when they jerked off together over FaceTime Shane always closed the window that showed himself. He wondered if Ilya left his own open.

It was weird, watching himself being pleasured, but it was also hot as hell. Ilya was watching too, gaze fixed on the mirror, eyes blazing intensely.

“Ilya,” Shane said breathlessly.

“You see,” Ilya said. He gently tugged the elastic at the back of Shane’s head, and the hasty ponytail Shane had pulled his hair into for his workout fell apart. Ilya nuzzled into the long strands that now brushed the tops of Shane’s shoulders.

Shane reached one arm back, looping it around the back of Ilya’s neck. He twisted his head and caught Ilya’s mouth in a messy, urgent kiss. Ilya allowed it for a moment or two, then guided Shane’s face back to the mirror.

“You are going to watch yourself come,” Ilya said.

“Fuck,” Shane said, but nodded. He was way too far gone to do anything but watch and feel his orgasm build, hot and pulsing in his stomach, in his spine, in his balls.

Ilya pinched one of Shane’s nipples, and Shane hissed and writhed against him. “Want,” he moaned, not sure at all what he was asking for.

Ilya chuckled softly against his neck. “I know. Almost there, yes?”

“Yes. So fucking good.” Shane tilted his head back slightly, still watching himself in the mirror. “Want to make you feel good too.”

“You are. I love this.” Ilya brought his lips to Shane’s ear. “I love when you let go like this.”

Shane loved it too. Loved that Ilya could do this to him. It was terrifying and wonderful to feel so free in this man’s arms.

“Ilya,” Shane panted. “Ilya. I’m going to come.” He squeezed his eyes shut as the dam began to break inside him.

“Open your eyes,” Ilya commanded softly. “Watch.”

Shane’s eyes flew open at the same moment his cock began to spurt over Ilya’s fist and onto the floor. He could see how tight the muscles in his chest were, the way his abs and thighs trembled as his whole body rocked with pleasure.

When it was over, he slumped back against Ilya and huffed out a slightly hysterical laugh. “Fucking hell.”

“Good?”

“Yeah,” Shane sighed. “Yeah. That was just a before breakfast, y’know?”

Ilya nipped his earlobe. “It was very hot.” He wiped his hand on Shane’s stomach.

“Ugh. Gross,” Shane said, and squirmed out of his arms. He stepped out of his shorts and then used them to wipe the floor. He knew Ilya was probably rolling his eyes behind him about how fussy Shane was about mess, but he didn’t care.

“Take a shower, Hollander. I will make breakfast.”

“What about…” Shane stood and gestured to the very obvious tent in Ilya’s shorts.

“Later.” Ilya smiled. “We have all day.”

Shane kissed him. “Okay.”

“Is chocolate pancakes good for breakfast?” Ilya asked.

“Uh—”

“I am kidding. I will make your gross protein shake.”

“It’s not gross,” Shane lied.

“Go. Shower.”