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Ilya puts his hand out to open the Censplex door when he realizes Shane has fallen behind. He looks back into the parking lot, seeing that Shane has stopped walking and is looking intently down at his phone.
“Shane. Who are you texting? Hurry up!”
“Oh, it’s just my mom,” Shane replies, pocketing his phone then jogging to catch up with his husband and get to practice. “She wanted to remind me that the ad I shot a few weeks ago dropped this morning. She, uh, she says it turned out really well. Like really really well. She kinda used the word viral.” Shane turns slightly pink while saying this, piquing Ilya’s curiosity.
“Which ad, Mr. Hockey Superstar? Mr. Brand Ambassador? Mr. Spokesman? You do so many I cannot keep track.” Ilya teases him while they walk through the familiar hallways of the training facility to the locker room.
“Stop it, Rozanov, you know I hardly do any of that stuff anymore. I’m glad some of the other brands dropped me, but this one... seemed like a good fit for me actually.”
“Ah so what was it? Boring protein shake company?”
“I’m not discussing this right now, we have practice.”
“Hmmm what could they make my handsome husband do that could make him go ‘viral’ as they say? I do not think it was that bubbly water company again, though they were very smart to put you in wet white t-shirt...”
“City Seltzer? Seriously? Ilya I shot that ad 10 years ago!”
“Ah yes, but I still have video saved on my phone so...” Ilya winks at him as he opens the door to the locker room where they’re greeted with an unusually loud burst of noise.
“Here he is! The man of the hour!” Calls Hayes while a couple of the other guys wolf whistle and cheer.
“Hollander congrats! That was fucking hot, man.” says Dykstra, coming up to clap him on the back. “Who knew someone so sexy could come from boring old Ottawa!”
“I already told Cassie she’s not allowed to watch without me,” jokes Bood. “Can’t have her seeing you like that man, it’s way too hot!”
“Yeah that was definitely your best ad ever,” adds Haas earnestly.
“Someone show me this ad.” demands Ilya from the doorway, stunned by the team’s reaction. (Maybe Yuna was right about this going viral...) “I left my phone in the car, let me see it!”
“No! Don’t show him, he’s been distracted enough!” Shane warns sharply, putting his duffel bag down on the bench at his usual spot and starting to take out his gear. “Thanks, guys, but It’s time to focus. We just clinched our playoff spot and we’re going to light it up at practice today, okay?”
Scattered cheers and "hell yeah!"s erupt while Ilya rolls his eyes comically and begins to gear up. Although he’s the team Captain and could likely force someone to lend him their phone, something about Shane’s tone brooks no argument. He likes when his husband gets bossy.
“Why didn’t you guys watch the ad before coming this morning? It dropped a couple hours ago.” Hayes asks Ilya more quietly.
“We were busy,” he replies with a wolfish smile.
***
As everyone calls out their ‘goodbye’s and ‘great practice’s and ‘see you tomorrow’s across the parking lot, Ilya hustles straight to the passenger side door of his Mercedes SUV.
“Wait, I’m driving?” Shane asks, taking the hint and dropping into the driver’s seat. Not unheard of, but since Ilya enjoys driving Shane usually plays passenger princess.
“Yes. You are going to drive and I am going to watch this advertisement that you have been hiding from me all day.”
“Hey, not fair! I haven’t even seen it yet either!” Shane says, starting the car and pulling out of the lot while Ilya taps on his phone.
“Do not worry, I will tell you exactly what is going on. Now who was this ad for so I can find it?”
“I’m not telling you! Just wait 15 minutes, we can watch it together when we get home.”
“Ah! There is no hiding this from me, Shane! I just googled 'Shane Hollander' and the first thing that comes up is news article saying A Sweaty, Sexy Shane Hollander Flashes His Abs, Lets Loose in New Peloton Ad?!” Ilya’s voice (and incredulity) rises as he reads each word of the headline. “What is Peloton?! What did they make you do?!”
“Ilya, I want to see,” whines Shane, as he merges into traffic, determined to get them home as quickly (and safely) as possible.
Since Ilya’s phone is still connected to the car speakers by Bluetooth, dramatic music fills the vehicle as he presses play. He audibly gasps and Shane makes a whiny groan, annoyed that now the tables have turned and his husband is the one denying him.
“Oh my God Shane you are... You are so hot!”
“So everyone’s been telling me,” he grumbles.
“You do spin on a treadmill?!”
“Yeah it took a lot of-”
“SHANE YOU ARE DANCING!! You never dance with me!”
“Well the choreographer was helping a lot so-”
“SHANE DID YOU JUST USE YOUR HEART-EYES AT THE CAMERA!?”
“I mean I did what the director said-”
“WHO IS THIS BEAUTIFUL WOMAN?! YOU WORK OUT WITH ME, NOT WITH BEAUTIFUL SHINING WOMAN!”
Shane stopped trying to explain and interject and instead just focused on driving, half-exasperated half-endeared and entirely turned on by his husband losing his mind in the passenger seat.
“YOU WINK!! YOU ARE DANCING! SHANE THAT IS DEFINITELY YOUR SEX FACE!! YOU HAVE NOW SHOWN THAT TO THE WORLD?! YOU ARE DRIPPING MY SO PRETTY WHAT IS THIS BOXING SO FAST YOU DID NOT TELL ME YOU COULD STILL DO THAT SHANE YOU ARE DANCING SHANE THERE ARE 6 OF YOU!! Oh my God Shane.”
As the music fades out, in his peripheral vision Shane sees motion and is sure Ilya is looking up at him, but he can’t spare a glance to discern his facial expression while navigating traffic.
“Um, so you like it, babe? Is it good?”
As if in answer to Shane’s question, the dramatic music immediately begins again, fading into David Bowie’s “Fame”. Having apparently gotten most of his explosive excitement out on the first viewing, this time Shane listens as his husband breathes more heavily and mutters softly.
“Oh my God... That look is mine... Oh Shane, moy lyubimy... we need punching bag at home... your body, Shane!.. We are going out dancing... Shane you are so free... This is so you umnitsa, this is so you...”
By the time they get home, Ilya has watched the minute-long ad 3 more times. He hops out of the car as soon as they stop and says simply “Come.” to his husband as he saunters up the front steps and unlocks the door.
By the time Shane arrives in the front entry way placing the car keys in the bowl and dropping both of their sports bags since Ilya had rushed away before grabbing his own, Shane sees a trail of clothing on the floor leading to the living room. As follows he laughs out loud when he hears the now familiar dramatic song intro start again.
He turns the corner to find his husband has put the video on the television and stripped. He catches a brief glimpse of himself sweating on the TV screen before Ilya, naked and half-hard, envelops him into an embrace and starts walking him backward to stand behind the sectional, kissing him firmly.
“Hey!” Shane laughs a bit as he breaks away for air, “I still want to see my ad!”
“Oh, yes. You will see,” Ilya says in a low voice. “You will see many times. Watch now.”
Ilya spins him suddenly so he’s facing the back of the sofa and then pushes his upper body down so his hands land on the seat cushion. The top of the sofa’s backrest is causing pressure on his lower belly, but he quickly decides to ignore it as his husband takes control.
Ilya yanks the back of Shane’s pants down, leaving him fully dressed with only his round hockey player’s ass exposed.
“Make sure you watch every second, moya lyubov. Do not get distracted from your beautiful ad.” He says while placing one hand on each cheek and spreading them wide, then diving in tongue first to lap at Shane’s exposed hole.
“Oh my... Fuck Ilya!” exclaims Shane as his husband begins to suck and lick. Everything blacks out from the sudden stimulation. As he drops his head down to take a breath he feels Ilya’s mouth pull away and a sharp double-tap on his right ass cheek.
“No, Shane. Keep watching,” Ilya growls. He must have felt the shift in Shane’s position and known he’d looked away. So Shane pulls his head back up to face the TV just in time to see a closeup shot of his own ass as he snaps the waistband of his little white short shorts and dances on a treadmill.
“Good boy, yes,” praises Ilya as he goes back to expertly opening Shane up with his mouth.
Although they’ve used mirrors before, Shane has never watched himself like this while having sex, and he’s definitely never gotten off to his own footage before. But something about this situation feels... freeing.
Since coming out and getting married, Shane had slowly started to feel safer in his skin. He stopped trying to force himself to be and act in certain ways and finally, in his thirties, allowed himself to explore whatever he was naturally drawn to. Finally allowed himself to be... himself.
When the brand approached him for this ad and he felt drawn to the concept, he didn’t balk or refuse because it wasn’t “masculine” enough or “hockey” enough – he trusted his gut and said yes. And if the reaction from the fans, and his teammates, and especially his husband was anything to go by, Shane was right to do so.
As Ilya continues to devour him from behind, Shane watches himself lift his shirt, exposing his sweaty abs on the screen for the fifth time (his sneaky husband put the ad on loop). His dick, still partly trapped in his boxers, is pressed against the backrest of the sofa, rubbing and adding to the stimulation.
“Oh fuck!” He gasps as his pleasure comes in waves, each one building in intensity. His brain starts to feel like it’s short circuiting, still obediently watching his past self on screen while trying to stay present in the heat of the moment.
“Fuck Ilya, fuck I’m ready. Please put something in me.”
Ilya pulls his face back and circles his hole gently with a finger as he stands.
“Mmm yes, moy radnoj, do not move and do not stop watching. I will be right back.”
Leaving Shane bent over the back of the sofa, Ilya walks to the small downstairs bathroom and grabs the lube from under the sink. Pumping a couple squirts into his hand, he strokes his shaft and as he returns to the living room.
The view of sultry athletic professional Shane glistening on the TV while horny real-life bent-over spread-open Shane watches from the sofa is so good he nearly wants to take a photo for posterity. He could definitely get off on this for years to come. Instead he walks back up behind his husband, adds some more lube to his fingers, and slides them straight in without warning.
“Holy shit,” Shane gasps dropping his head down again. Ilya reaches forward with his left hand, grabbing Shane's chin and lifting him to face the TV while his right hand continues to stroke up inside him from behind.
“No no, Shane, you keep watching. Do not lose focus.”
Shane groans, but complies – watching the ad for the tenth(?) time while Ilya holds his chin and caresses his hole.
“Yes, so good,” Ilya purrs at him. “Look at you, so perfect. I did not know you wanted the whole world to know you are like this, yes? So sexy, so sensual... Shane Hollander the perfect nice guy hockey star in his slut era.”
Feeling Shane gasp and start to rub his cock forward onto the backrest of the couch in desperation, Ilya moves both his hands to Shane’s hips, stilling him and retaking control.
“Ah you are so desperate my sweet? You are so turned on by yourself that you cannot wait for me?”
“Ilya, please, please fuck me.”
“Okay moya lyubov, I give you what you need. But do. Not. Stop. Watching.”
Having spent so much time opening Shane up, Ilya’s cock slides in smoothly and he groans with relief, he’s been half-hard since he first viewed the video in the car ages ago but had held off touching himself because this ad, this moment for Shane felt... big. He wanted to make it special for him.
He’d watched over the past few years as Shane peeled back layer upon layer of expectation and worry and self-doubt, and finally allowed himself to start expressing himself authentically. Ilya had loved Shane for so long, maybe forever, maybe since the moment they’d first met in that snowy Saskatchewan parking lot, but he was constantly surprised how that love kept deepening and growing and expanding as they matured and came into their own.
This confident, self-assured, liberated Shane was like a fantasy that Ilya didn’t know he'd had. The transformation he’d undergone was so surreal and incredibly sexy. From being stiff and shy in that CCM commercial they had shot together before their rookie seasons to now dancing and letting himself flow.
Ilya moves his hips in long, full strokes allowing himself to almost fully slide out before thrusting back in. Shane starts making wordless noises that Ilya knows mean he’s close and wants it faster. That’s fine, Ilya is already close himself. He speeds up his hips slightly and starts talking, trying to keep his attention on both the golden hued Shane on screen as well as the half-dressed panting Shane in front of him.
“Yes that’s right. Look at yourself all oiled up and dripping with your fuck-me eyes. Fuck Shane you look so good. Didn’t think I wanted to share you like this, but I think maybe I like it,” he’s moving even faster now, gasping out the words as Shane moans. “Yes I think I like that whole world knows what a slut you are Shane. And that you are mine. All mine. Everyone already knows I am a slut, and now they know that we match. We fucking match. Mine.”
“Yes, yours Ilya,” Shane finally manages to spit out some coherent words. “Yours, baby, all yours. Oh my God, I’m- I’m- uhhhhn.” Shane finally looks away from the screen, dropping his head down as he tips over the edge, hole pulsing with pleasure and release. Ilya doesn’t force Shane’s eyes back up this time, he just thrusts his hips a few more times and tips over himself crying out “Fuck Hollander” and burying his cum deep inside.
Shane takes a total of two deep breaths collapsed over the backrest of the sofa before standing up and snapping back to reality. Sometimes they could bask in the afterglow before cleaning up, but not this time apparently.
"Now I need to shower again," he complains. "And can we please turn this off now? I don't think I ever want to hear this song again."
Ilya grabs a tissue and pulls out carefully, wiping his husband clean and pulling his pants and boxers back up, then flipping Shane around and giving him a long deep meaningful kiss.
"Shane this is my favourite thing you have ever done for work other than winning the cup! You are amazing, look at you! Is now my favourite song and will be on repeat!"
Shane huffs as though he's annoyed but his blush betrays him, "fine, whatever. At least I won't be able to hear it from the shower."
They share another kiss before he walks away to clean up, and Ilya puts his boxers on before flopping on the couch and grabbing his phone and opening up his text messages with Yuna.
Do you have any behind the scenes footage from Peloton ad?
She replies moments later with a Google Drive link and Ilya smiles to himself, ready to cherish every single one of the videos and photos of his amazing husband.