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 should 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 this. Wasn’t him.
“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 Ilya 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.