Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

CHAPTER ONE

It started like any other day off.

Shane shifted slightly, softly moaning into the pillow buried against his face. He turned his head away from the bright sunlight hitting his sensitive eyes. Groggily, he hugged his pillow and edged away from the large bay windows, positioning himself toward Ilya. Ilya, sleeping on his stomach with an arm draped over Shane, muttered irritably as Shane moved.

"Shane," Ilya muttered irritably, turning to face him.

"Mmm-" Shane responded with a soft hum before yawning quietly. His eyes slowly opened, gaze drifting over Ilya's relaxed figure.

"Stop moving. Need my beauty sleep," Ilya mumbled, voice heavy with sleep.

Shane's eyes crinkled with a soft smile. He reached out, tucking a soft curl behind Ilya's ear. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Ilya's forehead. He shifted, then pulled away from Ilya's grasp. His bare feet met the cool wooden floor. Those feet were quickly shoved into a pair of house shoes. He walked to the bathroom, lazily scratching his bare stomach as he pulled his sweatpants up, contemplating what today might hold.

As Shane headed to the kitchen, he was distracted by his phone buzzing. He looked annoyed as he retrieved it from his pocket. There was one new notification: a message from Hayden Pike.

His phone buzzed again, and Shane saw two smiling girls: Jade and Ruby. They wore Disney Princess dresses, with Jade as Elsa and Ruby as Anna. Shane leaned on the counter, zooming in on the photo with a smile. Quietly, Ilya appeared and wrapped an arm around Shane.

"Those my nieces? They got the package?" Ilya hummed, resting his chin on Shane's shoulder as he studied the photo. He leaned against Shane, eyes still heavy with sleep.

Shane was startled. "Fuck, Ilya," he gasped before shaking his head. "Yeah, they got it. Just look at them." Shane grinned, holding up his phone for Ilya to see. Ilya's gaze lingered on the photo, softness evident in his eyes as he touched Shane. Shane relaxed, put away his phone, and then faced Ilya directly. Gently cupping Ilya's cheek, Shane leaned in and softly kissed him on the lips.

Ilya responded in kind, pressing his lips to Shane's with equal ease. He tilted his head, sighing into the kiss as Shane leaned back against the counter. Shane loved these mornings—slow, easy kisses between lovers in the dawn. Shane pulled away, his eyes opening to find Ilya already studying his face.

"I can get used to this," Ilya said, a smirk tugging at his lips. He leaned down, peppering Shane's neck with open-mouthed kisses. Shane squealed, laughing as Ilya nipped Shane's jaw.

"Ilya-" he giggled, reaching for his phone, "I've got to text Hayden back."

"Nope, you're mine. No Pike." Ilya growled playfully, his hands coming up and gripping Shane's waist.

"At least let me make breakfast before you jump my bones," Shane huffed in fond exasperation.

"No bones are being jumped, yes?" Ilya said, faux innocence dripping from his voice. "Can I not appreciate my handsome husband, hm?" Shane arched an eyebrow at Ilya, his face incredulous. Ilya rolled his eyes.

"Right," Shane drawled, unconvinced. "Because pinning me against the counter is a perfectly normal way to appreciate someone."

Ilya's grin turned unapologetic as his hands slid down to rest on Shane's hips. "You make it hard to behave."

"That sounds like a you problem."

"Mmm, could be yours, too." Ilya waggled a brow at Shane, who scoffed.

"Move, you absolute brute. No funny business before breakfast. I'm hungry." Shane shooed Ilya away before making his way to the fridge.

"Not funny business. Am not laughing," Ilya muttered to himself, looking cowed as he padded toward the living room. His eyes still shimmered with amusement as he flopped onto the couch.

Shane snorted at Ilya, shaking his head as he pulled two bowls from the cupboard. Yogurt, fruit, and granola were plated with artistic precision, even though Shane knew Ilya would stir the yogurt into a homogeneous mixture anyway.

Shane walked into the living room, his house shoes quietly clacking against the hardwood floor. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Ilya's forehead. His gaze fell on Ilya's phone, which was displaying a mobile game. A frown settled on his face.

"What are you playing?" Shane asked as he placed the bowl in Ilya's lap.

Ilya's eyes never left the screen as his hand reached down to stir the yogurt. "Nothing."

"It's obviously something," Shane said, huffing fondly. He settled beside Ilya, with the bowl resting in his lap. He scooped a grape slice onto the spoon, then guided it toward some granola. With equal amounts of yogurt, grape, and granola on his spoon, he lifted it to his mouth. A victory jingle chirped from Ilya's phone. Bright, animated vegetables danced across the screen. Shane blinked. "Are you playing a farming game?"

"No," Ilya swiped his phone with one hand while shoving a mouthful of yogurt into his mouth, "Am managing agricultural resources."

"You are harvesting carrots," Shane said, exasperated.

"These are strawberries," Ilya said, deeply offended.

Shane rolled his eyes as he turned toward the window, watching as birds flew over the quiet lake. "How long have you been playing?" He asked, amusement lacing his tone.

"Three weeks," Ilya muttered. Shane failed to hide a snort as Ilya huffed. "Stared ironically, but now…" he trailed off, then took a large bite of yogurt, chewing noisily on the granola.

"Now?" Shane pressed.

"Now, Beatrice is expecting her second goat, and if I don't finish upgrading this barn by tomorrow, winter will destroy everything," Ilya said, his face serious.

Shane stared at Ilya, exasperation evident on his face. Ilya stared back, his face serious.

"It's life or death, Shane." Ilya said, nodding slightly, "Yes, you understand?"

Shane shook his head, "Sure," he answered simply as he continued to eat his breakfast. A soft smile was on his face. Ilya watched him carefully for a second, clearly trying to determine whether Shane was mocking him.

"You do not sound supportive."

"I'm incredibly supportive," Shane replied around a bite of yogurt.

"I fed them every morning."

"They are pixels."

"They rely on me." Shane failed spectacularly at hiding his grin.

Ilya narrowed his eyes immediately. "You think this is funny."

"I think," Shane said carefully, setting his bowl down, "that you bullied me for an entire year over Stardew Valley just to become a mother of livestock."

Ilya looked deeply offended by that description. "I am a very successful farmer."

"That's true," Shane conceded solemnly. "You've come so far."

Ilya huffed, but he shifted closer until his knee pressed against Shane's. Shane glanced down at it fondly, then looked back up at him. Ilya rested his head on Shane's shoulder as he planted more strawberries.

Shane finished his breakfast, so he opted to watch Ilya play his game. His fingers carded through Ilya's hair as the Russian tapped his screen and occasionally took bites of his breakfast.

Once both bowls were empty, Shane carefully set them on the coffee table. He shifted them, letting Ilya rest his head on Shane's chest. Soon, Ilya grew bored with the game. Ilya rolled over, hovering over Shane.

"It is after breakfast," Ilya said, voice dropping an octave, as he grinned wolfishly.

Shane snorted, his hand reaching up to settle on Ilya's side. He slid his hand up, rubbing his thumb gently over the other's ribs. "You're ridiculous," he murmured fondly, eyes full of love. Ilya was ridiculous, but he loved him for it.

"Mmm," Ilya agreed, pressing a soft kiss to Shane's lips. Shane responded in kind, his eyes fluttering closed as they kissed lazily on the couch. Ilya held himself over Shane, arms resting on either side of Shane.

Ilya broke the kiss, nuzzling Shane's head to the side as he pressed kisses along the column of Shane's neck. Shane whimpered, his unoccupied hand rising to tangle in Ilya's curls.

"I-Ilya…" Shane whimpered, breath hitching as Ilya playfully nipped at Shane's ear.

"You look so pretty under me, Hollander," Ilya muttered, a playful lilt to his voice. "So pretty and needy." He purred.

Shane opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off by a moan. Ilya palmed Shane through his sweatpants, smirking devilishly down at him. "Fuck, Ilya." He breathed, stomach tightening as Ilya leaned down to bite at his neck.

"So… responsive." Ilya mused as he pulled his hand away. One pleasure was traded for another as Ilya pressed their hips together. "Love the little sounds you make." He mused.

Shane's hands fell to Ilya's hips as he ground against Ilya. "Ilya…" Shane whined again, breath hitching as he kissed Ilya's mouth once more. They kissed feverishly, panting into each other's mouths as their hips bucked against one another.

"Need…" Shane whimpered as their lips parted. Ilya nodded jerkily, grabbing Shane and hauling him into his lap.

They continued to kiss, Ilya's hands roaming over Shane's body. His hands wander lower, gripping Shane's bottom, then sliding up to caress Shane's arms. Shane whimpers softly as his arms wrap around Ilya's neck.

Ilya gripped Shane's sweatpants, pulling them down just below the swell of Shane's ass. He hummed in appreciation, running his hands over the warm flesh. Shane shivered at the contact. Ilya shoved his plaid sleep pants down with far less grace, lifting his hips before settling back down. Shane laughed, pulling away as Ilya pulled his boxers down.

Ilya made quick work of gripping both their cocks together. Shane shifted forward, whimpering at the friction. "Fuck-" Ilya muttered before spitting into his hand. He wrapped his hand around them once more.

A long moan left Shane, his head falling against Ilya's shoulder. Likewise, Ilya breathed out shakily before gripping his free hand into Shane's hair, pulling him into a searing kiss. The two hockey players rutted against each other, moaning and panting into each other's mouths as Ilya stroked their cocks together.

Soon, Shane was gripping onto Ilya's shoulders. The obscene squelching sound of Ilya's hands wandering lower at rocking their cocks in tandem was driving Shane insane. "I… I'm…" Shane groaned, face red from exertion. Heat pooled in his abdomen, his stomach clenching.

"Me too." Ilya clenched his jaw, the muscle in his temple bulging with the effort. He held Shane against him, panting heavily as Shane moaned in his ear.

Shane came first, a low moan falling out of him as his hips stuttered, painting Ilya's abdomen with cum. Ilya followed soon after, tossing his head back against the couch as his hand slowed. Both panted heavily, pressed together as they came down from their high. Ilya let out a soft chuckle, his arm wrapped around Shane as he gazed up at him.

"What?" Shane said, a blush creeping up his neck.

"Nothing, I… I really love you." Ilya breathed, his eyes reverent. "And your cum is all over me. You are messy." He smirked.

Shane groaned, quickly tucking himself back into his sweatpants. "Moment ruined, thank you, Ilya."

Ilya looked entirely unapologetic as he squeezed Shane's bottom. "Oh, no," he drawled, tightening his arm around Shane before Shane could pull too far away. Ilya's grin widened as he glanced down at himself with exaggerated drama. "Look at this. Tragic. I've been attacked in my own living room."

Shane buried his burning face in the crook of Ilya's neck with an embarrassed groan. "You're the worst."

"And yet," Ilya hummed, rubbing slow circles into Shane's back, "you continue to climb into my lap voluntarily."

"That feels irrelevant right now."

"It feels relevant."

Shane tried to glare at him again, but it melted the second Ilya kissed the corner of his forehead, gentler this time. The teasing softened at the edges, replaced by something warm and fond that always caught Shane off guard.

Ilya murmured. "I love you."

Shane's expression immediately melted despite himself. "I love you too..."

Ilya pressed another kiss to his hairline before glancing downward again. "You should get me a towel."

Shane sighed, smiling warmly as he stood. He collected the forgotten bowls and headed into the kitchen. Placing the bowls in the sink, he then grabbed a hand towel. After wetting it, he brought it to his stomach and wiped away the spend. He then moved toward the living room and stood at the top of the stairs leading to the couch. A soft splat sounded as the towel hit Ilya's bare chest. The Russian looked up with a mixture of exasperation.

"Really?" He asked, holding up the towel as if it personally offended him. Shane shrugged and grinned, turning back toward the kitchen to wash the two bowls.

The day was spent relaxing on the couch. Shane enjoyed his days off but often felt restless by the afternoon. Meanwhile, Ilya had fully settled into the comfort of the couch. Shane had pulled on a pair of joggers and an old cotton T-shirt. He tied the laces on a pair of Nike trainers when Ilya frowned from his blanket fortress.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, the jingle from his farm game playing in the background.

"Going on a little run. I need some air," Shane said, walking toward the sliding glass door. Ilya, placated, gave a little wave, his attention back on his game. Shane rolled his eyes as he shut the door.

One of the reasons why Shane loved the cottage so much was the foot trails around the lake. Natural paths from years of use carved their way through the land around the lake. The forest surrounding the lake was quiet this evening, save for the soft call of a loon somewhere on the water.

Shane jogged down the path, his feet beating a quiet rhythm as he focused on his breathing. The cool evening air burned pleasantly in his lungs as he ran, damp earth crunching softly beneath his shoes. The air around him carried the scents of pine and lake water, clean and familiar in a way that made something in his chest loosen every time he came here. The cottage sat far enough from everything else that the world felt quieter here. Simpler. His breath came steadily as he rounded a bend in the trail, the lake briefly visible through the trees. The setting sun painted the water gold, ripples glimmering between the trunks.

Shane slowed slightly, wiping sweat from the back of his neck with the hem of his shirt. His muscles ached pleasantly from the run, but he welcomed it. It gave him something to focus on besides the constant noise in his head.

That quiet held for only a moment longer.

It wasn't dramatic at first—just a subtle wrongness in the air, as if the woods had shifted from one foot to the other. The loon call didn't echo again. Even the insects seemed to hesitate.

Shane paused. A faint sound moved through the underbrush, neither quite a growl nor anything human. Shane's pulse pounded loudly in his ears.

It was large. Wrongly large.

Initially, his mind tried to interpret it as a bear. However, the shape didn't match. Its limbs were too precisely defined and sharply angled. Shane slowly stepped backward, and the creature mirrored his movement. Suddenly, it moved quickly.

Shane barely time to react before he instinctively threw himself sideways off the trail, crashing into wet leaves and roots. Pain shot through his shoulder upon impact, but adrenaline masked it immediately. He quickly scrambled to his feet, heart pounding, with his trainers slipping on the forest floor. Behind him, branches broke sharply, sounding like twigs snapping.

He ran.

The forest blurred, trunks whipping past, the lake flashing through gaps of foliage. Shane's breath tore in and out of him now, rhythm gone, replaced by the desperate need to survive. Something heavy hit the ground behind him. Closer.

Too close.

Shane risked a glance over his shoulder.

The creature was on all fours now, moving with terrifying ease through the terrain, closing the distance. A shadow surged beside him.

Shane twisted just in time to dodge snapping jaws that missed him, catching only air where his arm had been a second earlier. Unfortunately, he wasn't so lucky the next moment. A paw slashed across his back, and Shane yelped, desperately pumping his legs faster. His eyes were fixed on the edge of the forest. He could see the cottage; he just needed to reach it a little more.

The only luck Shane seemed to have was that the beast was reluctant to venture past the forest's edge. Taking full advantage of this, Shane scrambled up the steps of the patio and slammed into the glass sliding door. His fingers scrambled for purchase before yanking it open. Then, once he was safely in the cottage, he yanked it closed.

The moment the sliding door slammed shut, the cottage was filled with its sound—glass rattling in the frame, the sharp scrape of wood on track, and Shane's ragged breathing as he nearly fell inside.

Ilya was already on his feet.

"What—" he started, voice sharp with alarm, but it died the moment he saw Shane.

Shane stood just inside the threshold, chest heaving, one hand still clasped around the door handle like he wasn't convinced it would stay shut. His eyes were wide, hair damp with sweat, shirt half-shredded.

"Shane." Ilya breathed, hands hovering over the claw marks across Shane's back. "What happened?" He demanded.