Work Text:
It had started as an innocuous comment on a random ad that had popped up in Shane’s IG feed. It was a Calvin Klein post featuring a man wearing boxer briefs but instead of cotton they were made out of a sheer patterned mesh. The effect was quite striking. Much like the dresses Svetlana and Rose sometimes wore that had sheer panels that gave the illusion of bared skin while actually covering them up completely.
“Take a look at these.” Shane had held his phone out for Ilya to see.
Ilya’s brow had furrowed slightly as he examined the image. Then he raised his gaze up to meet Shane’s and the hungry look on his face had Shane blushing pink to the tips of his ears.
Ilya pushed Shane’s phone aside and crowded his husband up against the kitchen counter.
“You know that I think you are sexy no matter what you wear, moy prekrasnyy mal'chik. But I can think of much prettier things than that that would look very very sexy on you.”
“I wasn’t… I didn’t mean…” Shane’s voice faltered as Ilya nuzzled his neck and kissed him just behind his ear, making Shane squirm against him.
Shane abandoned his phone, scrolling forgotten as he wrapped his arms around Ilya’s neck and allowed himself to be carried into their bedroom and the conversation about underwear was presumably forgotten.
But Ilya hadn’t forgotten and a few weeks later a package arrived from a high end lingerie shop addressed to Shane. He stared at the package in confusion as he walked into the living room where Ilya was watching highlights on SportsCenter.
“What is that moya malen'kaya tykva?” Ilya asked, looking up over the back of the couch at a very puzzled Shane.
“My little pumpkin?” Shane muttered absently as he turned the package over as though he was expecting it to explain itself.
He didn’t notice the mischievous grin that crept onto Ilya’s face when he got a good look at what Shane was holding.
“It’s addressed to me but this is that fancy underwear shop that Rose is always ordering stuff from. Maybe she accidentally put our address in instead of hers.” Shane dropped the parcel on the couch and pulled out his phone. “I’ll text her and let her know it got sent here by mistake.
Ilya’s low chuckle caught his attention. He narrowed his gaze at his husband.
”Ilya… “
“Shane…” Ilya was practically purring as he said the name.
“Do you know anything about this?” He gestured at the package lying between them.
“Oh yes, moy prekrasnyy muzh. It is a gift for you.” He picked up the suspect item as he stood and took a step towards Shane.
Shane took several steps backwards glaring at the package like it was a live adder in Ilya’s hands.
“No, Ilya. Absolutely not. Forget about it.” Shane shook his head furiously as he took another step back. His legs met the arm chair adjacent to the couch and he tumbled gracelessly into it. Ilya advanced, stepping between Shane’s spread legs, trapping him in the chair.
“Is rude to refuse a gift from your loving husband.” Ilya bent over Shane placing a slow, deliberate kiss on his lips. “You put idea in my head and I could not resist.”
Shane mutely shook his head, his cheeks a lovely shade of pink under the smattering of freckles. Ilya knew his husband well enough after all these years to know that Shane’s weak protests were simply a cover for his insecurities. Ilya had perfected the art of uncovering Shane’s secret desires and gently nudging him out of his comfort zone.
Ilya stood and unceremoniously tore open the plastic mailer. He dumped the contents into Shane’s lap revealing a tangle of mesh and lace and satin in a variety of colors and styles.
“I got you many to choose from.” Ilya’s voice was a quiet rumble, the sound eliciting a shiver from Shane. “I would love to see my beautiful husband wearing these.” Ilya pulled a black mesh thong from the pile holding it up with a wicked smile.
“You first.” Shane’s attempted bravado was betrayed by the slightest tremor in his voice as he looked at Ilya with a challenging look.
Shane had only a fraction of a second to brace himself before his husband suddenly swept the pile of lingerie to the floor and proceeded to devour him.
The next morning when Shane awoke, Ilya’s side of the bed was empty. This wasn’t unusual. Sometimes Ilya woke first and let Shane sleep while he went for a run or worked out in their home gym. Shane stretched his sore body, savoring the delicious ache he always felt after a night of Ilya’s amorous attention.
Shane made his way to the bathroom, relieved himself and brushed his teeth. He threw on a t-shirt and black cotton boxer briefs and then sat back down on the bed. It was a lazy morning - no practice until afternoon so he picked up his phone with the intention of checking his emails.
He was surprised to see a text notification from Ilya. The image that appeared on his screen literally took his breath away. His gasp of surprise echoed in their bedroom and he immediately covered his mouth like there was someone around who might have heard. He could feel the heat in his cheeks and there was an immediate rush of blood to another part of his body.
Instinctively he grabbed a pillow and clutched it over his lap like someone might see the very obvious erection tenting his boxers as he stared at a photo of his husband. It appeared to have been taken in front of the mirror in their gym. Ilya wearing a black tank top and grey joggers. The shirt was hiked up and the joggers slung low revealing the sharp vee of Ilya’s hips covered in sheer black fabric. Ilya was wearing the thong that he had bought for Shane.
The comment under the photo simply stated “Your turn.”
Shane had hoped that Ilya would let it drop after that but he continued to tease and cajole Shane almost to the point of begging. Shane would blush and stammer and tell Ilya he was an asshole. Ilya would just grin and say he would find a way to convince Shane eventually.
It was a week later when Ilya struck again. They had arrived together for morning skate. A good portion of the team was already in the locker room in various states of undress, changing into their practice jerseys, lacing up skates and chatting.
Shane dropped his bag in front of his stall and turned just in time to see Ilya peeling off his hoodie. The act of raising his arms had also pulled his t-shirt up with the sweatshirt and Shane caught a glimpse of blue lace peeking up over the waistband of Ilya’s sweats.
His sharp intake of breath wasn’t audible over the din of the locker room to anyone but Ilya who was hanging his sweatshirt up. Shane grabbed the hem of Ilya’s t-shirt and yanked it down to cover the evidence of Ilya’s devious conduct. The shameless Russian turned his head to flash a wide grin at his beet red husband.
“See something you like, Hollander?”
“What the fuck, Rozanov?” Shane whispered harshly in Ilya’s ear. “How do you expect to change in here? Everyone will see!”
Ilya relished the scandalized look Shane gave him, smiling even wider. “I cannot let expensive panties be wasted. Would be a shame to leave them hidden in a drawer.”
Shane shot a furtive glance around the locker room hoping none of their teammates had noticed that his husband was wearing bright blue lacy women’s underwear. Thankfully they were all otherwise occupied.
“Ilya.” Shane hissed between clenched teeth. “If I promise to… cooperate… Will you please go change where no one can see you?”
“You are embarrassed of me wearing sexy undies?” Ilya leaned close, his breath ghosting over Shane’s ear. “I am man enough to wear fancy lingerie. My manhood is not threatened. And they are very comfortable. Rose and Sveta gave excellent advice.”
“You asked… no never mind. Not the issue. Please Ilya. The guys will never let me live it down.”
“Fine, moy sladkiy pomido.” Ilya conceded with a kiss to Shane’s cheek. “I will go change elsewhere but you will keep your promise, yes? Tonight? Private show for me?” Ilya’s eyes gleamed with excitement.
“Yes, Ilya. I promise.” Shane thrust Ilya’s practice uniform at him and shoved him towards the toilets. Turning immediately to hide his flushed face in his stall trying not to imagine his husband skating though morning practice wearing blue lacy underwear under his hockey pants.
Neither of them mentioned the underwear incident again that day. They sat through tape breakdown after morning skate. They drove home together stopping at the grocery store on the way. They cooked and ate dinner together talking about anything and everything else.
When they had finished dinner and watched the last two periods of the LA vs Seattle game, Ilya announced pointedly that he was going to take Anya out one more time and Shane quickly slipped upstairs to fulfill his promise.
When Ilya arrived in their bedroom a short time later, he was very pleasantly surprised to find Shane standing in front of the fire wearing white lace underwear, his glasses and Ilya’s old Boston jersey with 81 and the name Rozanov across the back.
“Oh Shane…” Ilya’s voice was husky with a mix of arousal & emotion. “You are perfect. Such a good boy.”
Crossing the room, Ilya pressed himself to Shane’s back. His large hands gripped Shane’s hips, his calloused fingers catching on the delicate lace.
“Careful.” Shane breathed out. “You’ll snag them.”
“Fuck, Shane.” Ilya kissed the back of Shane’s neck, nipping his earlobe and the juncture where neck met shoulder. “I want to rip them off of you. With. My. Teeth.” He punctuated each word with teasing bites across Shane’s trapezius
“Ilya!” Shane’s gasp of surprise made Ilya moan and pull Shane closer to his body, his hard cock very evident as he ground it against Shane’s lace covered ass.
Shane leaned into Ilya’s hold, one rough hand wandering up under the jersey to palm his pecs and tease his nipples to hard peaks. The other hand cupped Shane’s lace covered, rock hard cock, all the while kissing every inch of skin he could reach and murmuring salacious words in both Russian and English.
Then Shane pulled away just enough to turn in Ilya’s arms. Ilya kissed him gently on the lips and smiled.
“You really like them?” Shane asked shyly. The color high on his cheeks made his freckles even more noticeable. “They’re not too…girly?”
“No, moy lyubimaya.” Ilya’s earnest seriousness calmed Shane’s anxiety. “You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen. You are sweet and kind and sexy as fuck. You are bad ass hockey player who is also magnificent lover.”
“Ew, Ilya, we talked about that word…”
Ilya ignored Shane’s protest and continued. “No more boring black cotton boxer briefs. This ass,” Ilya squeezed Shane’s perfect ass cheeks with both hands. “Should only be dressed in beautiful colors, beautiful fabrics.”
“Your cock. Fuck, Shane. Do you know how much I love seeing your cock like this. This, ” Ilya fingers traced his barely contained erection. “Is obscene. Pornographic. This is not girly. You are my man, Shane. All man. And fucking stunning.”
Shane rocked his hips, chasing friction which Ilya happily gave him, cupping his cock and letting Shane frantically rut against the heel of his hand. In moments, Shane was coming, eyes closed, a desperate keen swallowed up by Ilya’s eager mouth.
Shane collapsed into his husband’s embrace, allowing Ilya to guide him to the bed where he promptly planted himself between Shane’s thick thighs and used that same eager mouth to clean up the mess he’d made.
What had begun as an innocent joke, had helped the husbands learn something about themselves and their relationship. A new kink unlocked. A new limit tested. But a compromise had to be made.
“Ilya, I can’t spend all my time on the ice hard. That’s just too weird and really uncomfortable.” So Ilya allowed Shane to wear his boring black cotton boxer briefs when he practiced or played but at home, when it was just the two of them, Shane enjoyed showing off the wide array of fancy underwear that his husband bought for him.
And if Ilya Rozanov occasionally played hockey wearing a black mesh thong, that was nobody’s business but his husband’s.
Goggle Translations of Ilya's Russian terms of endearment:
moy prekrasnyy mal'chik - my beautiful boy
moya malen'kaya tykva - my little pumpkin
moy prekrasnyy muzh - my wonderful husband
moy sladkiy pomido - my sweet tomato
moy lyubimaya - my favorite