“Are you alone?”
Shane moved the phone around to show his empty hotel room. “Yes.”
“Take that shirt off. Get on the bed.”
Shane took a moment to snap his phone into the tripod he’d had the foresight to set up next to his bed. He’d known his little stunt on the ice would make Ilya horny as hell. He’d been counting on it.
When he was settled on the bed, shirtless as instructed, Shane said, in Russian, “Do you have plans for me?”
Ilya’s mouth hung open for a moment, and Shane could practically see the bolts of arousal rocketing through him. “Fuck,” Ilya said.
Shane bit his lip, pleased with himself. Pleased that he could still make Ilya react like this, could still surprise him, after all these years.
“I think I should get a reward,” Shane said, in English. “For perfecting that move.”
“Perfecting,” Ilya scoffed. “Was just okay.”
“The puck went in the net.”
“Whatever. Hold on. One minute.”
Shane waited while Ilya set his phone up on his own tripod. When he was finished, Shane had a good view of Ilya reclining on his bed, wearing only boxer briefs.
“I hope that’s not what you wore to my parents’ house.”
“I dressed up for your parents. Nice shirt, very respectable boyfriend.”
“You don’t have to dress up for them. They love you.”
Ilya’s smile looked soft, and helpless. “I know. They made me chicken parmesan. And there was ice cream.”
“Sounds healthy and well-balanced.”
Ilya shook his head. “What is the point of life if you are not eating chicken parmesan and ice cream?”
“I can think of some good things,” Shane said as he gently caressed himself through his underwear. “Besides food.”
“High interval training?” Ilya asked dryly.
“Shut up. I’m trying to be sexy.”
“Oh. Okay. I was not sure.” He stretched one arm over his head and let his hand drape casually against the pillow. “So what is the plan?”
“Plan?”
“You are in charge, yes? You want a reward? What do you want me to do?”
“Um.” Shane wished he could respond to that sort of question without blushing. Ilya always managed to be perfectly filthy without embarrassment. “Touch yourself.”
Ilya poked his own nose. “Like this?”
Shane looked skyward in frustration. “Why are you like this?”
“Because it is fun.”
“You know what? Fuck this. Take your dick out and get yourself hard while I watch.”
Ilya was silent for a moment, blinking at the screen. Then, quietly, he said, “Yes. Okay.”
In seconds, Ilya was naked, and Shane could see him from his thighs to the top of his head. Shane was pleased to see his cock was half hard already, the head beginning to peek out of the foreskin. Shane licked his lips.
“I wish you were here right now,” Shane said.
“Be weird. With your teammates around.”
“Then I wish I was at your house right now. Stop being difficult.”
Ilya smiled lazily as he stroked himself. “I want to touch you. I miss you.”
“I always miss you.” Shane’s throat felt tight, which was a ridiculous sensation to experience when watching your boyfriend jerk off. He swallowed hard and said, “You look hot.”
“Probably.”
Shane’s lips curved up and he added, “For a guy who just had his move stolen.”
That made Ilya laugh and smile so wide his eyes crinkled. Shane laughed too, and tried not to be terrified by how much he felt for this man.
Ilya’s laughter morphed into a sigh of pleasure as he kept stroking his cock. “Is this all you want?”
“Yeah,” Shane said, barely above a whisper. “Just want to watch you.”
It was true, and it wasn’t true. Shane wanted to climb through the phone and sit on Ilya’s lap. Watching Ilya stroke himself was a decent consolation prize, though.
“I want you to be here,” Ilya said.
“Me too. Wanna touch you. Wanna...fuck, I want to see you come.”
Ilya spread his legs wider and leaned back more on the pillows behind him. “Put your glasses on, then.”
“So I can see better, or because you’re hot for my glasses?”
“Both.”
Shane reached for his glasses case on the nightstand. He made a show of opening the case, pulling the glasses out, unfolding them, and putting them on. Like a nerdy reverse striptease.
Ilya grinned as his big hand moved in an easy, sure rhythm over his thick cock. Shane took advantage of his own improved vision and let his gaze dart all over the place, from Ilya’s broad shoulders, to his twitching pecs, to his swollen balls, to the way his muscular forearms worked as he stroked himself.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” Shane said.
Ilya smiled at him in that crooked way that had been making Shane feel crazy for over ten years. “Tell me.”
“As if you don’t know how hot you are.”
“Tell me anyway.”
Shane smiled and shook his head, but said, “You’re so fucking big. Like, everywhere. Your arms, your chest, your fucking thighs. I love how tall you are. I don’t even care that you make fun of my height because I fucking love being swallowed up by you when we’re together.”
Ilya groaned and moved his hand faster.
Shane laughed. “Figures that would do it for you.”
“Touch yourself.” Ilya’s voice was strained, making it sound less like an order and more like a plea.
Shane obeyed, humming happily as he finally gave his rigid cock some attention.
“Were you waiting for me to tell you to do that?” Ilya asked with amusement.
“No,” Shane said quickly. “I just wanted to see how long I could wait.”
Ilya huffed. “Playing your own game over there, yes?”
Shane shrugged one shoulder. “Needed to do something to keep myself awake. It’s not like you’re doing anything interesting over there.”
“Brat.” Ilya let his dick snap backward, slapping hard against his firm stomach.