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It was late when Ilya finally made it home. The sun had long since sunk past the horizon, and Ilya had spent the past several hours desperately willing the clock to move faster, for the interviewers to ask him their questions and be done with it so that he could get the hell out of there and back to Shane.
Shane, who had watched Ilya leave with a peculiar grin on his face; who had pressed a quick kiss to his lips and said that he hoped that Ilya had fun, that he’d be waiting for him until he got back.
Shane, who Ilya was about five seconds away from taking apart with his teeth.
The relief that always came with returning to their home washed over him as Ilya opened the door. This place was his home, it was where he and Shane lived together, where they could simply love and be loved without the cutting eyes of the world picking apart their every move.
That relief was very swiftly replaced by confusion when Ilya registered that the house was completely dark, not a single light on to light his way.
“Shane?” Ilya called out gently, toeing off his shoes and shutting the door gently behind him. “Are you okay?”
It was not entirely uncommon for all the lights to be off when they slept, but Shane always left some on for Ilya if he was out later. Another possibility was that Shane was overstimulated and couldn’t stand the brightness, but Ilya had made Shane promise to let him know if he needed to take extra care that day, which hadn’t happened.
He reached out blindly for the light switch, but brushed up against something small and square before he had the chance to flip it. Carefully peeling it off the wall, Ilya realized that it was a polaroid photo, likely taken from the camera Shane had gotten him for his birthday. When he realized what it was a picture of, Ilya had to employ every last ounce of his self-restraint to not crumple it in his hands and take off running.
Instead, he examined it closely, taking in the blush on Shane’s cheeks and hungrily following it down his chest, where the picture ended, much to Ilya’s disappointment. After he’d committed the image to memory, he looked up, only to notice another polaroid further down the hallway.
This one was of Shane’s abdomen, his hand splayed wide as though he was sliding it down himself, though the picture cruelly cut off once more at the dark hairs that Ilya loved to trail his fingers through.
Scanning the space with purpose now as he crept forward, Ilya spotted one final picture resting on the kitchen counter. Shane’s hand wrapped prettily around his leaking cock, thumb casually brushing against the tip, and Ilya was slammed with a hunger so powerful that one of his hands shot down to grip the edge of the table, steadying himself.
When he’d gained some of his mental faculties back, Ilya noticed that this picture came with a note scribbled at the bottom that read: You’re running out of time.
Time? Time for what?
A buzz from his phone pulled Ilya from his thoughts, and he saw that he’d gotten a text from Shane.
I’m not going to last much longer.
Ilya scrolled up, reading their last exchange before he’d left over again.
You will regret teasing me like this once I get my hands on you
You’ll have to catch me first ;)
An incredulous, delighted laugh bubbled out of him and echoed through the still space, “Are you hiding from me?”
Ilya lays all his pictures down on the table, ghosting his fingers over them one last time before moving through the house. He keeps his footsteps quiet, his breathing low, listening for any hint of where Shane might be.
“You spend all day texting me about how much you miss me, about how you are touching yourself and imagining my hand around your cock, you send me pictures, Shane. All while I am trying to be nice and professional and answer a million questions! And now you won’t even face me?”
Suddenly, everything clicked. Shane was somewhere in this house, touching himself without Ilya. He’d been riling him up, challenging him, and now, if Ilya didn’t find Shane fast enough, he was going to come before Ilya even had the opportunity to get his hands on him. The thought lit a fire in his gut, and his grin sharpened into something a little more predatory, his gait lengthening into more of a prowl.
He was with a cruel, evil, brilliant man.
And, well, if Shane wanted Ilya to find him, Ilya would gladly hunt him down.
Ilya continued talking, hoping he could say something that might force Shane into giving away his position. “Maybe I won’t even look. Maybe I’ll stay right here, with these pictures that you have so generously left me. Could you stand to hear me calling your name from across the house as I come? Do you think that we would come at the same time?”
With every provoking statement, every prodding question, Ilya scanned for signs of life. Shane was not in the kitchen, because that would be too easy, and he wouldn’t willingly contaminate the space without Ilya’s bad influence edging him on.
Ha! Edging. Once Ilya retired from being the greatest hockey player in the world, maybe he should try being a comedian.
Shane also wasn’t in the living room. Disappointing, but not surprising, and only serving to heighten the excitement that came with the hunt..
He would not be far, though, of that Ilya was certain. Knowing his lover, Shane would want to hear him walk through the door, would want to be very aware of each step that brought Ilya closer to his prey.
“I hope that you are holding out,” Ilya said, climbing up the stairs, feeling the air thicken with the certainty that he was getting closer, the anticipation of what was to come. “I hope you know that if I find you and you have already come, that there will be very serious consequences. You will last for me, right, Shane?”
Ilya let his voice dip into that velvety sweetness that always made Shane shiver. It was that tone, the faux-sympathy that usually accompanied it whenever he tortured Shane in the way he knew they both loved, that never failed to elicit a reaction.
And there it was. A low, strained whine coming from their bedroom that had Ilya’s ears pricking up as his heart thudded in his chest. It was almost too easy.
The door swung open noiselessly, and Ilya’s eyes slid from the empty bed to the closet door that was just barely cracked open. He forced himself to take a breath, to not pounce and devour and end the game before Ilya was able to wring a bit more fun out of it.
After all that Shane had put him through today, he deserved a little bit of revenge.
“Oh Shaaane,” he called out softly, dangerously, “Come out come out wherever you are.”
There was a slight groan, cut off before it even truly began, and Ilya only noticed it because he prided himself on being attuned to every little noise that Shane made. He also prided himself on being very good at drawing them out.
Ilya’s patience was dwindling, the knowledge that Shane was a few scant feet away, waiting and ready for him, was enough to have heat pooling in his gut.
“Do you know what I’m going to do when I find you?” He asked, moving forward one purposeful step at a time. “I am going to drag you onto the bed, and then I am going to stretch you open and fill you up. I am going to mark you so that the whole world knows that you belong to me.”
I am going to crawl into your mouth and make myself a home in its warmth, Ilya didn’t say. I am going to fit myself into your ribcage so that we will never be apart again. So that you will feel the remnants of me every time you breathe. So you know that I belong to you as much as you belong to me.
The cool wood bit into his palm as he flung the door open, desperate to finally claim his prize.
Shane laid there in the middle of the closet, flushed and heaving for breath and oh so beautiful, Ilya’s chest hurt at the sight of it.
When their eyes met, Shane gave one final challenging stroke to his dick before shifting his weight. Ilya cocked his head slightly to the side, trying to figure out Shane’s next move, until Shane glanced behind him for a fraction of a second, out to their bedroom and beyond. To freedom.
Oh. Shane thought he was going to be able to escape? Ilya would’ve laughed if his urge to chase, hunt, capture hadn’t taken him over in that moment.
By the time Shane was on his feet, he was chest-to-chest with Ilya. He barely managed to stagger half a step backwards before Ilya’s hand wrapped around the base of Shane’s cock with a tight, nearly painful grip as he gazed into shiny brown eyes. “Now, where do you think you’re going?”
Shane let out a long, high-pitched whine and tipped his head forward, panting against his collarbone. It was the easiest thing in the world for Ilya to bring his hand up to the back of his neck, putting just enough pressure to be grounding and feeling Shane melt in his arms.
“Ilya,” he breathed, pulling back just enough to press his lips against his jaw, “you found me.”
“I did,” Ilya said. And then, because he could never resist a bit of teasing, “You were hiding in the closet. Didn’t want to try somewhere new after all those years?”
A laugh tumbled out of Shane, and Ilya thought that it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. “Fuck off. It was closest to the bedroom without actually being in the bedroom. And there’s a vent in here so it’s easier to hear what’s going on in the rest of the house. Asshole.”
“You really plan for everything, don’t you?” Ilya could feel Shane squirming in his grip, trying to get some of the friction that he was being so cruelly denied. Instead of letting him, Ilya hoisted Shane into his arms and carried him into the bedroom, tossing him onto the bed just to hear his surprised yelp.
Shane grinned, looking pleased with himself as Ilya quickly discarded his clothes, tossing them in the vague direction of the laundry hamper. “So, now that I have captured my prize, what do I get to do with it, hm?”
It was difficult, holding himself just out of range as Shane reached out to him. Ilya wanted nothing more than to take apart the perfect man in front of him, slowly.
But he had to made sure that that’s what Shane wanted as well.
He watched as Shane’s hands flexed in the air, twitching towards himself before he tangled them in the sheets. Ilya let out a low hum of approval, his grin sharpening as a shudder wracked Shane’s body.
“Anything,” he said, desperation pitching his voice into a whine. “Anything you want. Please, Ilya.”
And Shane always begged so prettily, always knew exactly what to do to break down Ilya’s resolve. Staring at him with those soft, tear-filled eyes and trembling lower lip had to be cheating, although Ilya would never deprive himself of his favourite sight. He found himself crawling onto the bed before he’d even processed everything Shane had said to him, revelling in the way Shane hungrily traced the lines of his arms, the dip of his waist.
“Anything I want?” Ilya asked, caging Shane in and dragging his teeth along the other man’s throat in a way Ilya knew made him see stars. “Well, how could I possibly refuse?”
After all, to the victor goes the spoils, and Shane Hollander, squirming and wanting and his, was the most coveted treasure of all.