Archive of Our Own

Someone at the end of the bar was staring at Shane.

A quick glance from his periphery confirmed the merit of the suspicious shiver along the back of his neck. He took a long sip of his beer, chanced a glance back over to get a fuller look at whoever had been eyeing him, but when his gaze made it landed, there was no one there.

"You're going to have a headache," Shane warned, watching Hayden drag a shot of whiskey towards himself.

"Headaches are temporary. Memories are forever," Hayden declared, sounding like a beachfront shop t-shirt before slamming the shot back. He made a face like he might throw up and Shane took a cautionary step back, cradling his drink to his chest. Hayden took a deep breath, puffing out his cheeks before deflating them with a sigh and a shuddering shake of his head.

It was Hayden's forty-second birthday, which he kept reversing to twenty-fourth. Hayden was already five drinks deep, consuming a striking variety of colors and contents. Shane had suggested they do something during the day instead, something more age appropriate than going to a sports bar, but Hayden had winked and said, "you're only twenty-four once." To which Shane replied, "yes, you were. Once."

He felt eyes again. He turned, looking over his shoulder, aiming for a casual survey of the bar. Halfway turned, he spotted someone sitting in a booth, his face and eyes aimed directly at Shane with an unmistakable intention, not shying away once he was spotted. They made eye contact. Shane felt his skin prick with interest before he darted his gaze away, smiling politely instead at whatever Hayden was slurring in his ear.

There was no way that guy was looking at him. Not in a self-deprecating way—Shane knew he was handsome to a decent extent. He took care of himself, ate healthy, worked out six days a week, sometimes seven if he was feeling bold. There were some things that were unavoidable with age, like the highlights of silver in his hair, streaks of it catching the light, the lined corners of his eyes. Shane's facial hair was almost exclusively silver, now too, something he managed with a strict shaving routine. The guy who had his eyes trained on him was younger, fitting much more with the other patrons of the bar, fresh-faced with curly blond hair pushed back from his unlined forehead.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom," Shane said in Hayden's ear. Hayden nodded, turning back to the rest of their group.

Shane was washing his hands at the sink when the door creaked open. He instinctually looked up, flicking his eyes back down to his soapy hands when he saw who it was. He heard the squeak of shoes against the dirty restroom floor.

"You're out of his league," the man said, looking at Shane through the mirror. Shane turned the water off, shaking his hands over the sink.

"What?"

"Your husband, or whatever. You're out of his league," he said with a shrug and a lazy grin, leaning his weight against the sink with a palm on the counter.

Shane tilted his head to the side, trying to catch up. He had a bit of an accent, and was even more handsome up close, even underneath the flickering fluorescent. Shane could tell he was very sturdy beneath his jacket, a cotton shirt spread across his dense chest.

"I don't have a…oh, you mean my friend? Yeah, no. Definitely not my husband." He said, scrunching his face.

The man made a little pleased hum in the back of his throat, leaning forward, close enough that Shane could see the texture of his skin, the shaved facial hair resting beneath the surface waiting to rise again in the morning. He smelled good, a distinct perfume amongst the dingy, mildewing bathroom.

"So, you're single?"

Shane swallowed, stepping back to reach for the paper towel dispenser.

"Ye—wait, you thought that he was my husband and you just told me tell me I'm out of his league?" Shane laughed, sharp and bordering on hysterical. He couldn't stop looking at the shape of his lips, his stomach heating with prominent interest.

Another shrug, his hand gliding against the wet sink as he stepped closer again.

"Thought you should know. That you could do better."

"That's not very polite," Shane scoffed, though his heart was pounding.

"No, maybe not," he drawled, "I'm Ilya."

"I'm Shane?" He offered, a bit hesitantly, not so used to introductions in bar bathrooms.

"Shane," Ilya said, face breaking out into a delighted smile. "So, you're single?"

Shane blinked, momentarily speechless. He should probably up his supplements, his brain was working very, very slow.

"Yes, but…hold on. How old are you?"

"Now who isn't being polite?" Ilya asked. Shane just looked at him, raising his eyebrows. He crumpled the paper towel into a ball in his hand. "It doesn't matter." Ilya said, waving a hand.

"It does," he said firmly, "I'm forty-one."

Ilya whistled low, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and releasing it, his lip falling back into position with a new shine.

"Sexy, wow. Sexy older man, Shane."

"Stop it. H-how old are you?" He repeated. Shane was feeling very hot beneath his sweater. Just a minute ago he had found the bar to be uncomfortably cold.

"Twenty-five. Not too different."

"No, very different," Shane pulled himself from his trance, stepping past Ilya to throw his paper towel away. "It was nice to meet you, Ilya."

"Wait," Ilya said behind him, trailing him out of the bathroom. Shane realized suddenly that Ilya had followed him in there. He hated that he was flattered. "I'll let you buy me a drink."

"You'll let me buy you a drink?" Shane repeated, mouth quirking up into a smile he tried to tamp down at the edges, folding his lips together.

"Yes. It can even be an expensive drink, if you want. They have good vodka here, for some reason. I'll share."

Shane let himself get lost in his face for a moment. His features were distracting, everything exaggerated in magnetic beauty. Long eyelashes surrounding blue-green eyes, pale pink lips that crested into sharp peaks at the top.

Shane smiled fully this time, shaking his head.

"You think you're really charming, don't you?"

Ilya winked, running his lips over his teeth. It should have been totally cheesy, but Shane found it a bit harder to breathe suddenly.

"Maybe you think so, too."

He did think so. So much that he was unable to brush him off that time. Shane only had so much will-power, and it appeared his limit to exercise it with Ilya was nearly nonexistent.

Shane bought him a drink, Ilya pressed into his side as he ordered. He got another beer for himself, craning his neck to check on Hayden, who was entertaining his group with animated hand movements. He could heard him from all the way on the other side of the bar, and he didn't look like he was missing Shane.

They settled at a wobbly table in the back, near the pool tables, chests leaning over the surface to talk above the noise. They volleyed questions back and forth, an impromptu first date.

"Do you usually pick up guys in bar bathrooms?" Shane asked, feeling a bit cheeky after finishing his beer.

"Depends on the bar. Depends on the guy."

"This isn't a gay bar," Shane said gently, "what if I was a homophobe?"

"Eh, no. The way you looked at me, I could tell you are not. Or maybe you could be, but you definitely still wanted my dick."

Shane flushed, "That's forward."

"But it's true, right?" Ilya said, eyes low and heavy with something Shane wanted to dig his fingers into. "It's okay, Shane," he continued, with a teasing smile Shane had quickly grown fond of. "I want you to want my dick."

Ilya reached across the table, finding Shane’s hand, brushing his fingers over the veins.

Shane choked a bit on the air he inhaled. Once he managed to breathe again, he excused himself to pay for his tab. He offered to close out Ilya's too, who wasn't shy about nodding yes to. Shane liked that Ilya knew what he wanted. It made Shane's wanting easier.

He said goodbye to Hayden, who had grown worryingly red-faced. Hayden wiped tearily at his eyes, pulling Shane into a sloppy hug, wailing about friendship, and taxes? Shane had trouble following. He spotted Jackie, who shrugged at him, winding a finger near her ear to indicate Hayden's mental state. He said bye to her, too. She was much more sober and gave him a squeeze on his bicep and told him to have fun.

"Do you need to say goodbye to your friends?" Shane asked, looking around. He wasn't sure who Ilya had been sitting with.

"No, they know what I'm doing."

Shane’s face warmed again. He thought about Ilya seeing him get up to go to the bathroom, after having spotted him standing at the bar; telling his friends hurriedly to not wait around for him. It was presumptuous and sleazy, considering Ilya thought Shane was taken, or maybe that was just a pick up line. Shane wouldn't put it past him, the person Shane had grown to know the last hour seemed the type to be imaginative in his attempts to flirt and persuade. All of that only made Shane more excited. He had never been approached by someone like Ilya before. Ilya was entirely self-assured. And young. And handsome. So, so handsome.

Ilya wrapped his arms around Shane's midsection and placed his head on his shoulder while Shane ordered a car. The uninhibited affection made Shane's stomach swoop.

Shane was dizzy with something he hadn't felt in quite some time. Ilya kept touching his leg during the car ride, his own legs sprawled along the floor, their ankles touching. Their driver kept trying to strike up conversation, and Shane was finding it hard to respond, letting his head fall back on the seat while Ilya trailed his fingers up his thigh, cheerily taking on the role of answering questions.

He was half-hard when he exited the car, giving a terse thanks to the driver, marching to his door with his keys ready in his hand. Ilya was pressed up behind him, a disruptive presence that made it difficult to find which key went to his front door.

The door was open barely a sliver before Ilya propelled them inside, spinning Shane around with heavy, grabbing hands to push him up against the wall. Ilya tugged Shane's tucked shirt from inside his pants to stick his hands against his skin, pushing him harder against the wall. Shane gasped; Ilya's hands were cold, but his lips were warm. So warm against Shane's, his tongue hot and wet and flexible as he licked into his mouth. Shane placed his fingers in Ilya's hair, giving a tiny pull.

Ilya moved his hips forward, gripping Shane's jaw. It reminded Shane a bit of a romance movie, the dramatic ferocity with which Ilya kissed him, like Shane might disappear beneath his hands if he didn't make his desire abundantly known.

His moaned, low and long, when Ilya sucked Shane's tongue—wringing it of saliva, wetting it again in Ilya's damp, humid mouth.

Shane took one hand from Ilya's hair, running it down his spine, bringing it forward to settle on his hard stomach. He pushed Ilya back gently with his palm against his lower belly.

"Let's get a bit further in the house, yeah?" Shane murmured against his lips, angling his head back to disconnect. Ilya already looked so affected, lips parted and glossy from their kiss, his hair disheveled from Shane's roaming fingers.

"We should just fuck right here," Ilya groaned, pressing kisses up Shane's neck. He sighed into it, melting against the wall, before he straightened up and pushed Ilya back with a firmer hand.

"Will be much better in bed. Come on." He slipped away from Ilya's reaching hands to lead him towards the bedroom.

Ilya seemed to have calmed down a bit. He gave an impressed whistle as he followed Shane through the house.

"Nice place. Good thing I let you buy me a drink. You have too much money, I think."

"Fuck off," Shane said over his shoulder as he walked up the stairs, Ilya's footsteps trailing behind.

He turned on his bedroom light, placing his jacket on the dresser.

"You make your bed like this every morning?"

"Yes."

"Do you sleep with all those pillows?"

"What? No."

"Where do you put them, then?"

"On the—" Shane turned around, saw Ilya looked between Shane and the pillows with great amusement. "Shut up."

"You have a pillow fetish? You are going to pretend that I am one giant pillow and—"

"Oh, my god, you were much nicer in the bar," Shane groaned, stalking towards a giggling Ilya to pull him in for a kiss. Ilya's laughter quieted, his hands warmer now, one hand holding Shane underneath his chin between his thumb and index, tilting his head back to take control.

Shane broke their kiss for a moment to peel off Ilya's jacket, letting it pool on the ground. He rucked Ilya's shirt up to his chest, rubbing his thumbs over his nipples. Ilya pulled the shirt over his head, letting it join the jacket on the floor.

"Yours," Ilya said, grabbing at the hem of Shane's sweater. Shane took it off, throwing it in an estimation of where the laundry basket was. He stepped back, admiring the man in front of him. Ilya was really fit. Shane ran his fingertips along the trail of hair on his navel, enjoying the coarse texture. He suddenly felt a bit insecure in his own body, skin certainly a less taut than Ilya's, muscles not as prominent, his lower belly thicker and beginning to protrude with the warping of age. But, then, Ilya ran his own curious fingers along Shane's body with a noise of contentment.

"You're really sexy," Ilya said, eyes twinkling with a light of amazement that made Shane feel timid.

Shane opened his mouth to reply, but instead of words, he breathed a high-pitched hiss when Ilya ground the heel of his palm against Shane's dick through his jeans. He found a slow, but insistent rhythm, holding Shane where he wanted him with a hand grasping his waist. Shane moaned low in his throat, throwing his head back. It had been a while since he had been with anyone. He was already embarrassingly hard, right on the edge of trembling and shaking with want, finding it hard to swallow and focus on anything but the smell of Ilya, the strength of his body.

"We are going to fuck?" Ilya asked in a whisper, his mouth at the shell of Shane's ear.

He nodded, grabbing Ilya's ass between each of his hands and pulling him against him. He was very excited to see what Ilya looked like bent over.

"Yeah. If you want to. I want to."

Ilya captured Shane's lips in another kiss. He kissed so hard and urgently it almost hurt, pressing so intensely Shane could feel his teeth through their lips.

"You have stuff?" Ilya asked, pulling back from Shane's lips with a loud pop.

Shane almost teased Ilya for his enthusiasm, before deciding he didn't want to delay it, either. If they skipped most of the foreplay, Shane could fuck Ilya for a really long time. Maybe Ilya could cum twice on his cock. That would be a nice treat.

"Yeah. Let me grab it." He regretfully left the warmth of Ilya's hands around his waist, digging through the nightstand for the bottle and a condom.

"Take your pants off," he motioned to Ilya, throwing the items on the bed as he shed his own shirt, unbuttoning his pants to relieve the tension.

Ilya complied with a smirk, shoving his pants off with a wiggle and kick of his legs to loosen them from where they clung to his ankles.

Ilya shuffled onto the bed so he was sitting on his knees. Shane opened the cap of the lube and went to pour it over his fingers at the same time as Ilya reached for it. They stalled, looking at each other.

"Oh, you want to do it yourself?" Ilya asked, looking Shane up and down with a grin.

Shane placed one knee on the bed, tilting his head to the side.

"Yes, sorry—is that okay?"

"More than okay. Come here, let me get a good angle to watch, then I can eat you out."

"Watch…?" Shane tried to think about the logistics of Ilya watching. Maybe there was a position he hadn't tried before. He also decided to address the hurdle of Ilya’s mouth anywhere near his ass when they came to it. Shane had never had someone offer to do that before he fucked them. It sounded a bit weird, having sex with someone sporting a wet and loosened asshole.

Ilya huffed, turning his palms over and wiggling his fingers back in a motion for Shane to hurry up and come here.

"Yes, want to watch you finger yourself. Put on a show for me."

Shane's brain went blank for a second, a forced restart.

"I'm not…wait. What do you think is going to happen here?"

Ilya tilted his head to the side, looking at Shane with his eyebrows knit together.

"I thought we were going to fuck?"

"Well, yes, but—"

"Your face is red. Are you nervous? You are so shy for an old man."

"Ilya," he said, hedging his voice to a warning. "Did you think?—I was planning to fuck you." He said, cheeks warming at having to own up to his intentions. Maybe he was a little shy.

Ilya furrowed his brows for a moment before they shot up to his hairline, mouth hanging open in an 'o'.

"I thought I was going to fuck you. You were giving me fuck me eyes all night!"

"I don't—I was not!" Shane didn't think he was capable of fuck me eyes.

Ilya heaved a loud sigh.

"I'm not really in the mood to bottom," Ilya said, sliding across the bed until he was in Shane's face, planting a kiss to the crook of his neck. "I was looking forward to fucking you."

"Oh," Shane gasped, his stomach pooling with heat, now that his brain had caught up to what was happening. "I've never…" he trailed off, eyes darting to the bed. He rapidly felt juvenile standing before Ilya, presented with something he had no idea what to do with.

"You've never had a dick in your ass before? You look like the type to beg for it," Ilya said with one side of his mouth raised slyly.

"God, stop, you're so vulgar!"

Ilya waited, watching him. Shane squirmed where he stood.

"No, I've never done that. Well, I did try once when I was younger, but it hurt and I made him stop." Shane said with a self-conscious lift of his shoulders.

"Not even fingers? A dildo?"

"Jesus. Yes. I've used fingers before." It felt a bit ridiculous to be all of forty-one and be interrogated by a much younger man he met at a bar about his past sexual experiences.

Shane came out a bit later in life. All he had known before that was having sex with women, and then all he knew after coming out was fucking men. His one disastrous experience was enough to make him not want to try again, satisfied with his historic average of enjoyment.

"I think no one has shown you a good time before. I can fix that. Will you let me fix that, Shane?"

His heart was beating very fast. Shane had never been with someone who wanted him to fuck him.

"I'm…" his dick twitched, trying to speak for him: yes. Ilya ran his hands down his sides, thumbs brushing over his abdomen. Shane imagined it, imagined being on his knees, Ilya's strong fingers gripping his hips. "I'm not prepared, or anything." He finished with a low whisper.

Ilya shrugged, dragging the tips of his fingers feather light over the length of Shane's dick. "I think it will be okay. Look, if you want to fuck, I will fuck you. I am not taking that thing inside of me. Will not fit." He declared with a pinch to Shane's tip, still beneath his underwear.

Shane gasped, twisting his torso in an aborted movement—both trying to get away from and get as close as possible to Ilya. "It's fit in plenty of people before. You haven't even..seen it yet."

"I felt it, and can see through your underwear. Too big for me. Shane, let me fuck you," he whined, drawling out the vowels in you.

"Ilya…shit. You're big, too," he lowered his eyes to Ilya's dick, another confirmation of his size, "I don't know." He worried his lip. He would venture to call Ilya a hypocrite, because he looked to be a bit bigger than Shane.

"I will take care of you. At the bar, I just kept thinking about bending you over and fucking you. When I first saw you, I thought about how good you'd look with my cock inside of you," Ilya spoke slowly, enunciating each word, making sure every intention was laid bare. Shane's whole body wracked with a shiver. "I bet you'd really like it. I have a…what is it? Sixth sense. But now I am feeling like a creep, and will not ask again. So last time—you want? Yes, no? If no, we can just do blowjobs, or whatever."

Shane did not just want blowjobs.

He built a quick pro-con list in his head. Pro, Ilya was very sexy. Con and Pro, Ilya's dick was very big. Con, he had never done this before. Pro, Shane really wanted to.

Shane didn't know if he was prepared to lose his anal virginity—but then when would he be ready? He was already forty-one. He had thought about it before; thought about someone's face above his, someone slapping his ass with his own face pressed into a pillow. But thoughts were the only version of it he had entertained. Was that weird? Ilya made it sound like he'd done both. Was Shane doing sex wrong? Was he supposed to have been spending equal time in both positions? His whole sexual career flashed before his eyes. What if Shane had presumed, just as he had now, and no one had spoken to the contrary to what they thought Shane wanted.

Ilya looked strong. Ilya was confident. He could probably show Shane a really good time, like promised. And if he didn't like it, then, he could just go back to his normal routine. It couldn't hurt (too much) to try something new. Shane had put his dick in people before. He knew that it was logistically possible.

"Okay. Fuck. I'm going to go shower." He blurted before he lost his nerve.

"Okay, should I join you?"

"No. No, I'm going to shower and make sure I'm ready, or whatever. And then we can try."

"Oh, this is the best day ever," Ilya said with a happy sigh, flopping against the bed, tossing a few pillows out of his way. "Gonna jerk off while I wait."

Shane stayed and watched Ilya stroke himself for a moment, entranced by the image of him cupping his balls, raising his hips as he fucked himself into his fist.

"Better hurry up before I cum. I might not be able to control myself," Ilya said with a groan as he pulled back his foreskin and palmed the head of his cock.

Shane took the threat seriously and headed for the bathroom.

He pulled his phone out of the jeans he was thankfully still wearing. He put it down on the counter and turned the shower on.

Shane knew about bottom prep, of course. He didn't have an enema, though. Shane was aware that was often a component to success. He opened up Google, needing to make sure that there wasn't a significant chance that something really gross would happen. Someone with a lot of upvotes on Reddit said that as long as Shane didn't eat something crazy and wasn't a dirty person (check and check), all he would need to do was take a regular shower. He was a little unsatisfied with not being provided a magical hack for anal prep on short notice, but a shower he could do.

He was diligent in his soaping, while also trying to be as quick as possible; both before he lost his nerve, or Ilya lacked self control. He touched himself with a few perfunctory pumps, thinking about Ilya on his bed, Ilya's hands on him. He fantasized for a moment about Ilya finishing on himself before Shane completed his shower, grabbing Shane by the back of his head to lap up the mess on his tummy, tangled and clumping in his hair, taunting him for taking so long. The anxiety started ebbing to rising waves of excitement, warm seafoam settling inside his stomach.

Shane came back to the bedroom with a towel slung across his hips. Ilya was right where he left him, stroking his cock in lazy, inconsistent patterns. He stood in the doorway for a moment, content to watch.

Ilya's phone was in front of his face, he put it down when he noticed Shane fresh from the shower.

"Watching porn?" Shane asked, half-teasing.

"On Instagram."

"For…porn?"

"No, pervert. I was just bored waiting for you to clean your pretty virgin hole. Now come here and let me taste it."

Shane was the pervert?

"Shut up," he grumbled as he walked over, his cock tenting in the fluffy navy towel.

"Mmm, I will be very quiet soon," Ilya said, grabbing Shane's hand once he got close enough to the bed, pulling him down onto the mattress. "Once my mouth is on your ass."

Shane shivered, joining Ilya on the bed fully, letting the towel fall away and throwing it to the floor. He kind of hated the thought of the wet towel on the ground, but Ilya started kissing down his chest, tongue laving over his nipple, and thoughts about mold and wet things on dry things disappeared under the attention.

"Can I suck your dick first?" Shane asked, placing his hand on the crown of Ilya's head. He felt him nod, Ilya looking up at him from where his mouth was attached to Shane's right nipple.

"Yes. You are so polite, asking for permission."

Shane half-heartedly rolled his eyes. Ilya's voice was a low timber, almost a purr, and it made it hard to be annoyed. Shane found he enjoyed being teased a little, having a muscular, beautiful man in his bed with a sharp tongue and shameless attitude.

He maneuvered Ilya until he sat with his back against the pillows, his legs spread open. Shane crawled between them, rubbing his hands up Ilya's firm legs. He pressed little bites and kisses on Ilya's inner thighs, digging his thumbs into the skin of his hips. The head of Ilya's dick was pink and glistening with excitement. Shane pressed a kiss to the tip, his lips smearing in the sticky precum.

Ilya jumped when Shane twisted his hand around the base, sinking his mouth down onto him. Shane steadied him with a hand on his hip, then pulled back to the head before taking him back in.

Shane liked sucking dick, and considered himself good at it, based on past reviews. He often preferred it to penetrative sex, not always wanting to put the effort into fucking. He felt much more confident in getting someone to cum using his mouth.

His tongue flattened against the underside as he dragged it up, looking into Ilya's half-lidded eyes before he swallowed his dick down in one, big swell.

"Shit, Shane," Ilya growled, bucking his hips and slipping his fingers into Shane's hair. The corner of Shane's lips twitched as he constricted his throat, squeezing more noises out of Ilya. He gagged the tiniest bit when Ilya thrust upwards, before falling back down with a sighed, trembling sorry.

Ilya was very vocal, which Shane liked, it made Shane’s job easier. Ilya enjoyed when Shane sucked at the head and rolled his balls in his palm at the same time, which he kept up until Ilya tensed beneath him and pushed him back by his forehead.

"Shit," he breathed. Shane watched his wet cock twitch and hit his stomach. "You're good at that."

Shane wiped his mouth with his wrist.

"Thanks. You okay?" Shane asked with feigned concern, gratified to be given something to tease Ilya for.

"Yes," Ilya's chest rose and fell. He narrowed his eyes, pointing his index finger at Shane. "You're stalling."

"Stalling? How am I stalling?"

"You just tried to make me cum."

"Well, I mean, you could've came. If you wanted to."

"No, no. I'm not going to cum until I fuck you," Ilya wheezed, still sounding affected. Shane sat on his heels, allowing Ilya a moment to catch his breath.

Ilya recovered quickly, vaulting off the pillows. Shane let him manhandle him into Ilya's desired position, then flipping sides of the bed so Shane's back was now against the head of the bed.

Flat on his belly, Ilya was attacking Shane's ass. It was the only word that could possibly describe what Ilya was doing down there, a drooling, moaning mess as he pressed himself as close as possible to Shane.

"Fuck, you taste so good, Shane," Ilya pulled back, digging his thumb against the rim and tugging down. "Can't believe you've never been fucked. You want it so bad."

Shane made an embarrassing noise, high-pitched and keening. His stomach tensed, his entire body taking the words and injecting them directly into his veins, blood filling with Ilya's voice.

"Don't you?" Ilya asked, slipping his thumb inside. Shane jerked and panted.

"Huh?"

"You want it so bad."

"Yeah—yes, Ilya," His words cut off into a garbled, messy moan once Ilya attached his lips to Shane's hole and sucked hard. He trembled beneath Ilya's hands, squirming against his tongue. He was everywhere, he was all Shane could think about, his mind throwing all thoughts aside that didn't involve Ilya's mouth.

Ilya twisted his thumb deeper. He thrust his hips downwards, trying to get more, needing more. Ilya licked a stripe from his hole to the perineum, then traveled back down. Shane remembered he had his own set of hands, and used them to grip at Ilya's hair, steadying himself in soft curls.

He yelped when he felt the pointed tip of Ilya's tongue press at his entrance, easing inside.

"Yeah, that, more," Shane directed, hands shaking as he grabbed harder at Ilya's hair, trying to guide him where he wanted him. He wanted him deeper, he wanted him to loosen Shane up until his insides were trained to take Ilya, skin holding a memory of his shape. He could stay like this forever, sprawled on his back, taking every generous slide of Ilya’s tongue.

Ilya gave him more. He pulled back out to the tip of his tongue, then jammed it back in with a steady rhythm. Shane was going insane, he couldn't remember the last time he was so needy and hard, his dick was pulsing with it, leaking against his stomach.

Shane let himself exist in it, body powering down to existential functions only, and even those were sparsely available, like breathing. Shane didn't know if he was breathing. He likely was, since he wasn't dead. Even that was up for debate. He easily could have died and not noticed.

It should be impossible that Shane could want more. But he did. He needed more. Shane pushed at Ilya's head, disconnecting him. Ilya's tongue slid out, Shane immediately mourned the loss, feeling open and empty.

"Okay, fingers now," he cleared his throat, his voice coming out hoarse. Ilya sat back on his heels and Shane took in his state with wide eyes. His lips were puffy and wet, everything was wet, Ilya's chin soaked through with his own spit.

Shane fumbled along the mussed bedspread to find the discarded bottle of lube, handing it off to Ilya.

Ilya was surprisingly silent as he slicked his fingers up, leaning in for another kiss. The kiss wasn't as bruising this time, Ilya licking gently at the seam of Shane's lips, moving slow.

He led his fingers down to Shane's entrance, circling his hole. Shane hissed when the first finger slid inside, more a noise of anticipating pain than feeling it. Ilya had loosened him up well with his tongue and thumb.

"It's okay?"

"Yeah, it's okay."

Ilya nodded as he kissed down Shane's body, fucking his finger in and out lazily until Shane encouraged him to add another. Ilya obliged with a smile pressed into Shane's hip.

This experience was already much better than Shane's past attempts. Ilya had two fingers inside, exploring and caressing. He liked the feeling of fullness, enjoyed the stretch when Ilya scissored his fingers apart, coaxing Shane's walls into cooperation. It still didn't feel amazing, though. It felt good, but it didn't have that astonishing sensation that Shane had seen others experience. Maybe Shane just didn't have the thing that other people did. Shane wouldn't put it past the divine creator, to give Shane a cruel, genetic disadvantage when it came to anal sex.

"Fuck!" Ilya went a bit further, crooking his fingers and then Shane saw stars. Millions of stars scattered above him on his ceiling, twinkling bright and white. "Wha—do that again, please."

Okay, Shane definitely had the thing that other people did.

His chest was heaving as he shook all over, struggling to stay upright in his bones—they were turning to mush inside of him.

"Oh, found it," Ilya slurred with a confident drawl. Shane couldn't see him, instead focusing on the stars dancing in his vision as Ilya jammed his fingers upwards again. Shane tried to run away from the intensity, hips rising up off the bed. Ilya held him down with a hand on his stomach, rubbing circles into his skin with his thumb.

"Feel good?"

"Yes, fuck, so good. Again, please." Ilya did it again. Shane clawed at the sheets, twisting them inside his sweaty palms.

"Shit, you're going to scream so loud on my cock," Ilya said with a hint of awe as he fucked his fingers inside.

Shane nodded his head. Yes, that sounded right. He wanted that.

Ilya's fingers calmed to a languid pulse. Shane whimpered, too gone to care about the fact that he just whimpered for maybe the first time in his life. He pushed his hips down, trying to entice Ilya's fingers to press against the spot again. He missed the stars.

"Okay, I'm ready. Come on." He keened, raising his lower half up and then slamming it back down in a mini, overeager tantrum.

His bones were solidifying again. He found the condom near his side of the bed. He held it up in between his fingers, waving it in Ilya's face.

"Beg for it," Ilya said with a grin as he snatched the condom.

"What?"

"Beg me for my cock," he said with an evil shrug, looking proud of himself. Ilya looked like an angel with his golden curls and sparkling eyes, but beneath his flesh there was a demon intent on fucking with Shane.

"You're so annoying—fine, okay, please. Ilya, please fuck me," Shane conceded impatiently.

"I think you can ask nicer than that," Ilya taunted, dragging his fingers out, slowly pushing them back in. Shane breathed hard through his nose.

There was a beat of silence, both of them staring into each other's eyes, two different sides of the same challenge. Shane let out a breath, then schooled his face into something he hoped looked sexy and inviting. He ground his hips down onto Ilya's fingers, curling one of his hands around Ilya's bicep.

"Thought you wanted to fuck me, Ilya. Don't you want to? Need it so bad. Please." The humiliation and vulnerability of having to plead was worth it to see the way Ilya's eyes changed, the bob of his throat as he swallowed. Ilya gripped Shane's hair and tilted his head back, sucking Shane's tongue into his mouth with a throaty groan.

"Get on your knees," Ilya said against him, giving his hair a harder tug. He released Shane with a pat to the side of his face, moving back to give Shane room to get into position.

Shane almost wished he had turned off the lights. Ilya had already seen a lot, had his tongue and fingers inside of him, but wobbling onto his hands and knees, ass spread apart from the angle, made him feel more exposed than he was necessarily pleased with.

His heart was thudding in his chest. Without the haze and tingles from being touched, Shane found himself thrust back into anxiety. He heard the tearing of the condom wrapper, felt the dip as Ilya drew closer to him. He sucked in a breath. He could do this. He wanted to do this.

Ilya placed a gentle hand on the small of his back, fingertips gliding down the ridges of his spine, up and down.

"You're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Grab one of your million pillows," Ilya instructed. He was able to switch between sweet and obnoxious with such grace. Shane bit back a retort, choosing compliance.

Shane reached forward and plucked a throw pillow free from its position, handing it back behind him, falling forward on his other arm for balance.

"Okay, I will put this under your hips. Make it easier for you I think," Ilya tapped the side of Shane's thigh with his palm, a physical direction of movement. Shane raised his hips and Ilya slid the pillow underneath, using a hand to press down between Shane's shoulder blades until his chest rested on the mattress, elbows digging in beside himself as leverage.

Ilya spread Shane's cheeks with one hand, slapping the tip of his cock against his hole, heavy and hard. Shane clenched in anticipation.

"Your ass hair is gray. I would have thought black, like the hair on your head," Ilya said casually as he rubbed the tip of his cock against him, letting it drag and catch on the rim.

Shane blinked, turning his head slowly until his right cheek was pressed into the mattress.

"What is wrong with you?"

"I think it's sexy," Ilya tacked on. "Your ass is stressed from lack of attention, so the hair turned gray, maybe."

"Ilya."

"Okay, sorry,” he said, but Shane could hear him swallowing back a laugh. “Ready?"

Shane was getting tired of his ass being in the air with no purpose. He angled it back with a huff.

"Yeah, I'm ready. Are you stalling or something?” He asked, throwing Ilya’s words back at him. “Scared that you won't be able to back up all that talk?"

Ilya slapped his ass with a laugh. Not a gentle slap, either. The sting was still there after the contact. Shane jolted forward, surprised by the contact, surprised further by the way it made his belly warm and dick perk up with renewed interest.

The first press of Ilya's cock against him made him tense and gasp.

"Now who is scared?"

Shane shuffled back into position and deflated his spine.

"Shut up."

It happened faster than Shane thought it would. He had never been with someone during their first time, and once presented with it himself, he assumed it would take a lot of negotiation between the cock and the ass to come to an agreement. But once Ilya breached the rim with the head of his dick, the inches kept going. And going. He could feel the stretch, his body accommodating something very big and foreign. It stung a bit, a tight, unused muscle quickly changing shape.

"Fuck," Shane sputtered, screwing his eyes shut, holding onto his linen duvet with a clawing grip. "It's a lot."

"You're doing so good," Ilya soothed, reaching around to stroke Shane's cock. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No," Shane gritted. It felt much more bearable now with Ilya rubbing the head of his dick, thumbing digging into the slit. "Keep going."

Ilya bottomed out with a choked off sigh, steadying himself with a grip on Shane's hips. It felt weird once it was all the way in, an intense pressure. It didn't hurt so much as Shane was just incredibly aware that something was inside of him.

Ilya started with slow, measured thrusts. Shane couldn't get his face to relax, jaw tight and brows furrowed. He was having trouble letting himself fall into the sensation.

"Fuck, you're so tight. Can't believe I'm the first person to fuck you," Ilya groaned, grabbing a handful of Shane's ass, giving it a harsh squeeze, his nails digging into the flesh. He pulled back, topping the attention off with a slap. Shane gasped, electricity zapping through him as Ilya chased him with his dick, slamming it back in. "With an ass like this? Such a shame."

"Again," he croaked. Ilya pulled back. Shane felt each centimeter of him slide out, dragging against his walls. His stomach tightened, breath catching in the back of his throat. Ilya rammed himself back in until his hips met Shane's ass.

Once he was buried back inside, Ilya gave him two, sharp slaps on each side of his ass. Shane panted into the sheets.

"Can I fuck you now?"

"Are—aren't you already fucking me?"

Ilya laughed, deep and low. He leaned forward, draping himself against Shane's back. He licked the skin of Shane's neck, nipping at the freckled skin of his shoulder.

"No, baby, I'm not."

The pet name made him tighten, each letter settling like a soft, drizzling summer rain across his skin. He had never been much a fan of being called anything besides his name, but the way it sounded from Ilya was different.

"You just got even tighter, shit," Ilya murmured. "You like that? 'Baby'?" Ilya asked, rocking his hips forward, slow and deliberate.

Shane's dick drooled, he could feel it hot against his stomach where it was trapped between his body and the pillow. He raised his hips. He didn't need the fucking pillow. He didn't need anything besides what Ilya promised him—a good time. Everything else began to fall away, that same feeling he had when Ilya was using his tongue and fingers. He wanted it back, wanted it right in front of his face to sink his teeth into.

"Yeah, fuck. Come on, Ilya, please. I need…" he cut himself off with a strangled groan.

Ilya adjusted himself, somehow even deeper as he licked the side of Shane's neck.

"Need me to fuck you?" He waited until Shane nodded with a sharp yes. Ilya smacked his ass again, "I'm going to destroy you for anyone else, Shane. You're never going to be able to cum again without a cock inside you. Without my cock," he punctuated his claim with a sickening thrust that had Shane moaning into the mattress.

"Fucking—yes, need it. I don't care just, anything. Please, do it."

Ilya pulled all the way out and rubbed his cock against Shane's hole. Shane was mid inhale when he drove it back in, and then didn't stop driving it in, a vastly different sensation than the long, slow thrusts that Ilya warmed him up with.

Ilya angled his hips differently. The stars Shane saw earlier paled in comparison to the swirling light explosion when Ilya pressed the head of his cock against his prostate.

Ilya was saying something, but Shane couldn't decipher it, his ears clogged like everything was underwater. He slumped forward, no longer attempting to hold himself up with his elbows, his arms and chest piled uselessly on the bed, piling the sheets and blankets forward in a frenzied grasp.

Shane felt bad for a lot of people. Himself, first and foremost, because he had been denying himself the world's greatest pleasure. He felt like this was where he belonged, his ass attached to a dick. Ilya's dick was a really great one to be attached to. He also felt bad for most of the people he had slept with, because he certainly hadn't been fucking them right. Maybe he had. Maybe it felt like this. He doubted it, though. Only because it seemed impossible that anyone could feel this good. Shane hardly believed it and it was happening to him, currently.

"Please," Shane whined. He didn't know what to do with himself. He didn't know where to take all of this, couldn't conceive how there was room in his body for it all, everything pouring out in heated waves, the breaking of a crudely erected dam.

"Fuck, yeah, Shane. Good?"

"Mm," Shane said, his mouth hanging open, drool dampening the sheets beneath him. Ilya was using his hips as an anchor, guiding him back on his cock, punching into him.

Ilya was going so hard and fast, but it was calculated and controlled, maintaining the same depth, keeping the angle so he was pushing Shane's prostate on every upwards thrust. It was almost artful, an obvious talent for and desire to not only fuck Shane, but make him feel every drag and push at its highest point of pleasure. Shane felt safe beneath it all, understood in a way that he found astonishing. Someone Shane knew for only one night was able to show him things he had never conceived, push inside him with a raging declaration and intention of raw, flooding desire.

"You're taking my cock so well, Shane. You were made for this, made for taking cock. My cock."

"Yeah," he agreed with a sigh, bringing one of his thumbs to his mouth to bite at the top, needing something to ground him. Ilya placed his chest flush against his back, dragging his teeth along the back of his neck, licking the spot.

"Yeah? You are? Say it," Ilya demanded, his breath hot against Shane's skin. He was deep like this, grinding his hips against Shane's prostate with a bruising force.

He gasped, spit clinging to his thumb as he tore it out of his mouth, moving his arms wildly, attempting to reach back and grab at Ilya.

"Say it," he repeated, thrusting shallowly.

"I was…fuck, Ilya, I was made for it," he whined, thrusting back against Ilya. He had slowed down to a pace that was making Shane feel crazy.

"Made for my cock, hm?"

Ilya twisted his fingers in Shane's hair and pulled hard, his head forced back until he blinked wetly up at the ceiling.

"Yes, yes, made for your cock, Ilya please fucking—please fuck me, please, feels so good I need it so bad. Please give it to me," he was no longer above begging. He wanted to beg. Wanted to do whatever it took to make Ilya move in the way he needed him to again.

Ilya pulled out completely and Shane made a panicked noise of protest.

"Shh, on your back, sweetheart."

He settled onto his back, not liking the feeling of Ilya’s cock leaving him, an urgent feeling of emptiness. But, this was a comfier position, and this way he had a great view of Ilya's pretty face. He was pink from his head to chest, glimmering like a precious gem with his sweaty skin. It turned Shane on more to see the sticking of his damp hair on his forehead, knowing that Ilya was exhausting his body for Shane, fucking himself into a sweat.

He threw his head back and bowed his back when Ilya entered him again, one of Ilya's hands holding up Shane's leg beneath his knee. Shane had his other leg hooked around Ilya's back, his fingers digging into Ilya's wet shoulders.

Ilya's lips were parted, his pupils blown so wide his eyes were an entirely different color, inky and shining. He bent Shane's knee towards his chest, deepening the angle. He felt himself stretch even further around Ilya’s length, spreading with the force of Ilya's ambition.

"Oh, god," Shane shouted, closing his eyes and letting them roll back. He couldn't help himself as he scratched at Ilya's back, trying to find some purchase, feeling so outside of himself with how intense it was. He felt he might slip away, rise above his body and be unable to come back in correctly. Maybe that was a good thing; a fresh start, a new life. Shane had obviously been living wrong up until this point, anyway.

"Touch yourself," Ilya directed.

Shane placed a shaking hand on his dick, trying to stroke in time with Ilya's rhythm but failing, unable to maintain much of a pattern beyond desperate, clumsy strokes. Being filled and fucked with his cock in his hand was a debilitating sensation, almost too much. His stomach tightened, a rising electric current beginning from his toes, traveling hot through his limbs.

"Wish you could see yourself," Ilya said, his voice vibrating with the movement. "You look so good taking my cock."

Shane turned his head side to side in desperation, curling his toes, releasing his hold on himself.

"Gonna cum soon," he exhaled, words barely more than a wisp of breath.

Ilya grabbed Shane's other leg, bringing them both near Shane's chest. Each new move had Shane discovering new depths to the pleasure. Ilya was so deep Shane could almost taste him, fearing for one moment as he scrabbled his fingers through the sweat on Ilya's back, that he might split in two. There was a lot of pressure on his rim, filling him deep to the very limits of his body. It felt so good he moaned low and wild, an almost primitive trill as he licked his lips. He tasted salt.

"Fuck, are you—Shane are you crying?"

He twitched his shoulders, a weak answer of I don't know as he sniffed.

"Bad crying?" Ilya slowed down and Shane grabbed him around his waist, forcing him back.

"No, good," he said, voice thick, "more."

Ilya wore an expression that Shane was unable to decipher. He lowered himself and kissed Shane as he fucked into him again, all strength and speed, fulfilling Shane's impractical request for more. Shane explored Ilya's hot, fast-breathing mouth with his tongue, gliding across the roof of his mouth, tasting his teeth.

Ilya's hand wrapped around Shane's cock. He gasped into his mouth. They weren't kissing now, just holding their lips against each other's, melting into it. Ilya's thumb slid through the wet mess on the tip of Shane's cock, spreading it around, and Shane couldn't hold it anymore. He shook as Ilya frantically increased his thrusts.

It started in his spine, spreading outward in a sizzling internal bleed. His back raised off the bed as his legs twitched where Ilya held them.

"Ilya, ple—yes, oh fuck don't stop," he implored against Ilya's lips, eyes blurry as his orgasm wracked through him, nearly knocking the air out of him in its force. His fingernails tingled, everything wired and tuned to the highest, sharpest level. He came along his stomach, some of it catching in Ilya's fist as he worked him through it, still fucking him. He could feel himself clenching around Ilya’s cock, his core tight as he spasmed and gasped, flopping around like a fish fresh from water.

Ilya's thrusts turned sloppy as he chased his own end, slamming into Shane's fluttering, quivering insides until he was spilling into the condom with a low, guttural groan.

Shane's skin was still buzzing as Ilya collapsed on top of him. Shane let him stay on him for a moment before it became hard to breathe, poking at his side until Ilya sat up on shaking arms.

He winced as Ilya pulled out, an ache already settling in his lower back and ass, a vague sting on his rim. The muscle twitched, trying to close back up. Shane kind of liked it, though. A physical reminder even after the event.

"Was good?" Ilya asked as he fell onto his side, pulling the condom off and tying it before discarding it beside his thigh.

A laugh bubbled out of Shane, "Yeah. Really good. Thank you,” he licked his dry lips. “Make sure to throw that away, please," Shane added, pointing a still trembling finger towards the condom. It was actually his worst nightmare that it was simply sitting on the bed but he decided not to make a fuss.

"Oh, so good I get a thank you?" Ilya teased, grabbing at Shane until he was tucked in at Ilya's side.

Ilya played with Shane’s hair for a bit, then moved his hand down to run his fingertips along Shane’s chest. Shane shifted in his arms, making a face when his lower half twinged with a new dull pain.

"Hurts?" Ilya asked, pressing a kiss to Shane's collarbone.

"Kind of," he answered truthfully.

"Want me to kiss it better?" Ilya started mouthing at the spots of his neck he could reach, circling a finger in an arc above Shane’s exhausted and limp cock.

Tempting.

"There's no way I can get hard again. Sorry. As you've pointed out many times tonight, I'm old."

"You haven't even let me try," Ilya said with a pout before dragging his lips across Shane's forehead.

Ilya did try, later in the shower. Shane's dick twitched a few times, but his biology deemed the request unachievable. Ilya got hard again, almost as soon as they got underneath the shower spray. Shane jerked him off then sacrificed his knees to finish him with his mouth.

It was awkward for a moment as Shane hobbled through his routine. He gave Ilya a spare toothbrush, and they stood in not entirely comfortable silence, the sound of their brushing filling the bathroom.

Shane wasn't sure what happened next. This was his first one night stand, along with the obvious first time he just shared with Ilya. Many things were new and up in the air, hovering above him with a threat of collapse. He didn't know if Ilya was going to stay, or if he’d never see him again. Shane thought he'd like him to stay, and see him again, but he wasn't planning to push for it.

Ilya exited the bathroom first. Shane walked out a few minutes later, half-expecting him to have left, but he was sitting criss-cross on Shane's bed, naked, scrolling on his phone.

"Do you have a charger?" Ilya asked, holding his phone up.

"Yeah, by the bedside table. Other side. Yeah." Ilya crawled to the other side of the bed, Shane's side of the bed, stretched his torso as he reached for the charger, plugging his phone in, then splayed down on the bed, placing one hand behind his head. He patted the mattress twice, inviting Shane over.

Shane slid into the bed, with a weird feeling like it didn't belong to him. Ilya pulled him into his side.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" Ilya asked, his nose in Shane's wet hair.

"Working out. Grocery shopping. Nothing really," he swallowed, adjusting, trying to get comfortable. "What about you?"

"My friend is having a party, so probably that."

"That's nice." Shane wondered if it was one of the friends that Ilya was with earlier. Would Ilya tell them? If he did, what would he say? Would it be a funny story? The time Ilya took a forty-one year old man’s virginity, shared over cheap beer and stale chips. He felt insecure, tucked under the arm of a virtual stranger, a stranger Shane had given so much of himself to.

"Are you buying me breakfast tomorrow?"

The sudden jump in conversation made him pause for a moment.

"Sure? Do you…want me to?"

"Yes, I think I deserve it. I fucked you so hard you cried."

Shane flushed, tucking his chin into his own chest.

"Okay. I'll buy you breakfast. How much...money do you want?" He quickly catalogued how much cash he had. Shane didn't mind taking care of Ilya back. He did alter Shane's life in a major way, he could spare some money for breakfast. Even if it felt a tiny bit like prostitution to hand over a few singles after sex.

Ilya heaved a sigh, flapping his lips. He pulled back, scooting away until he was able to look at Shane head on, one hand on his shoulder.

"I will try again. Shane, let's get breakfast tomorrow. When I wake up. In your bed. Does that sound good?" Ilya asked with raised eyebrows.

"Oh," he paused again, trying to make sure he was understanding before he spoke. He had felt one step behind nearly the entire night. "Like a date?"

Ilya smiled. It was different from all of his other smiles Shane had seen, spreading across his face like he couldn't stop it, his grin so wide his cheeks moved with it, his eyes crinkling.

"Yeah, like a date."

He returned the smile. Shane was more relaxed now, knowing where to place his feet, a short mapped distance that he was confident in walking.

Shane was experiencing a lot of firsts, and all of them so far he had liked. First time going home with a stranger from a bar. First time bottoming. First crush on a younger man. He was feeling downright adventurous as he snuggled in next to Ilya, pulling the covers up.

Tomorrow would be his first breakfast date with a younger man who also took his virginity, and Shane thought it best to rest up, closing his eyes with his cheek pressed against Ilya's chest.