Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

You often hear about people snapping. People whose brains short-circuit and make them into the monsters they are. But you don’t always see it, and you rarely become it. 

But after Ilya lost everything, he had no other option than to snap. No other option than to pretend he’d never lost anything at all. Because losing them was too much. 

It was the start of the new year, and the roads were paved in snow, not ice. That’s why he didn’t worry when he sent his wife, Svetlana, out to dinner with some friends without him. He’d been busy, and there was no reason to put the love of his life on a leash like a dog because the world was unpredictable. 

Everything in him after the accident screamed that it should have been predictable. That it was his fault. That he could have saved her and their unborn baby from the cruel fate they faced. 

But then things changed. A switch in his brain flipped the morning after he’d found out that told him it wasn’t his fault at all. That he didn’t have to accept it as over. And the man who caused the accident? He was the one who needed to pay. To pay the debt he owed him. Of one wife and one child. 

This didn’t change for Ilya, no, not even after he discovered who it was. 

Shane Hollander. Rival on the ice, and now the rival of his life. 

The police deemed the accident a true accident, something that they’d refuse to charge the darker-haired man with. 

But justice was flexible. And he could get his own if he needed to. The same way he’d get back the life he stole from him. 

By whatever means necessary. 

—--

Shane Hollander was the golden boy of The Montreal Metros. The golden boy of the whole league, if you asked most people. So when the news showed up one Sunday morning that he’d caused a car accident that killed a woman and her unborn child? Everyone was shocked. 

Shane wasn’t drunk. Shane wasn’t texting. Shane wasn’t even speeding. He’d caused the accident, sure, but there were things out of his control, too, like how hard it was to push the brakes on the snow. Like the fact that it was so dark outside. Like the fact that the lights on his car broke mid-drive. 

It was all deemed an accident. If anything, it was the car's fault. But cars don’t make headlines the way hockey stars do. 

He still remembered the headline from a few weeks ago like a bee stinger in his side. The guilt was already eating him enough without it becoming the world’s business. He never wanted to hurt anyone. 

But he had. Two people at that. A mother and her unborn child. 

He had no idea if she had a family waiting for her at home or not, and he tried not to think about that. The one time he did, he threw up. He just couldn’t take the guilt. 

Still, he wasn’t going to punish himself to the same fate as her. He wasn’t going to lie down and die over an accident. He had a life, a career, and a family of his own. 

It sucked. It hurt. But he had to move on. 

And the month after the accident, he finally felt like he could start doing that, that it was a real possibility. That he didn’t need to hide his smiles or worry about what someone might ask in the locker rooms. 

Like tonight, for example, he was going out with the team to a local bar a few streets down from his condo. 

“I’m so glad you joined us tonight!” Hayden clapped him on the back, midway through the night, a smile on his face. “You never used to come out.” 

“Well It wasn’t any fun dwelling alone anymore,” Shane shrugged, beer in his hand, half full. “Gotta live life.” 

“To living life!” J.J. raised his glass from the other side, just hearing the end of the slurred words Shane had uttered. 

The whole team gathered around for the cheers, and they downed their beers quickly. Some shots were ordered. More beers. A lot of laughing and talking, and even some tumbling when there feets got tangled up.

Shane felt alive again. But he also felt floaty. He felt….drunk. 

“Dude, I’m so wasted,” He giggled, reaching out to grab Hayden’s beer from his hands and sip more than he was offered from the bartender. 

“Then stop trying to drink everything in sight,” Hayden laughed as he pulled the beer away from his friend. 

Sahne pouted, but Hayden stood firm. Shane was a lightweight. He didn’t need more to have a good time. He was already having it. More would just be dangerous and excessive. 

Shane only reached out further for the ale, making him lose his balance on his stool and nearly tumble to the ground. Luckily, Hayden caught him before he could face-plant on the cold, dirty, checkered tiles of the place. 

“Whoa,” The called out, motioning for J.J to help get him right up again. “You’re really out of it, bud.” 

“We should have known Hollander was such a lightweight,” J.J scoffed jokingly. “He never comes out and drinks with us, so he’s never had practice.” 

“I practice… all the-the time!” Shane cried back. 

“Yes, at hockey, not holding your liquor,” J.J continued to find his friend funny in this state as he helped hold him up under his elbow. 

Hayden took the other elbow and realized he once again had to be the dad of the friend group. That he couldn’t just laugh. That wasn’t what a good friend does. A good friend makes sure you get home okay. 

He pulled Shane’s phone out of his jacket pocket and moved to order him an Uber. It wasn’t shocking to see he’d already had the app; Shane had refused to drive since the accident.

J.J. and Hayden took him out to the curb to make sure he got into the car safely. 

“Shane?” The driver asked behind his sunglasses, with a typical Canadian accent. 

Nothing was amiss or off, so the men felt comfortable getting him in the back of the car. They closed the big black doors and couldn’t see him well through the tint, but blamed it on the dark sky above them. 

Shane didn’t make it out of the sightline of the bar before he passed out in the back seat. 

—---

When Shane woke up, he felt comfortable. Out of it, but oddly at ease. There was a pillow under his head, there were soft sheets against his bare skin, and there was… something heavy around his wrist. 

That woke him up. 

He tugged against it, and it pulled him back like a restraint. His arm was above his head as he opened his eyes to find his hand handcuffed to the head of the bed. A bed that wasn’t even his…

He closed his eyes for a second despite his adrenaline and fear. It was so bright, with such big windows casting light in on him. He was so hungover it ached like crazy. But he couldn’t just give up either. He tugged at it again and got nowhere.

His breathing picked up as his heart rate soared. He looked down and saw a sheet that wasn’t covering half of his body. Purple and silky, like it belonged to royalty. His chest was on display and shining from a bit of sweat he’d clearly worked up in the sun's heat. He kicked until the sheets came off of him and was met with a shock. 

He wasn’t chained up and naked. No. He was chained up and caged. 

He’d never seen one before. Didn’t even know they existed. But it was indistinguishable. His cock was locked up in its very own pink metal cage with a dainty bow on the top for emphasis.

“What the fuck?!” He cried, brows furrowed, and he continued to struggle in the bed. 

“Enough of that,” A voice suddenly came from the corner of the room. 

Were they here the whole time? Did they do this? What the fuck happened?!

“Enough of what you lunat-” Shane’s voice was cut off as he finally looked over to the corner where the voice came from. 

He knew he knew that voice, even through the hungover glaze in his mind. Even though he didn’t hear it too often. And his eyes were correct. 

“Rozanov?!” 

Rozanov hummed with casual displeasure. “You will call me Ilya or sweet name, not Rozanov, is too… hockey.” 

Shane Hollander didn’t understand the definition of “too hockey” on a good day, let alone this one. 

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Stop cursing, or I’ll make you,” Ilya said, standing up with an instant air of power over him. “It’s not lady-like, doesn’t suit you.” 

“Neither do these cuffs or this fuc-freaking cock cage!” He found himself actually censoring himself despite the clear defiance. Out of fear? Out of the habit of doing what people ask of him? He didn’t have time to figure it out. 

“I think you look very pretty, моя любовь,” He expressed as he stepped closer, to bask in what he’d already accomplished. What he was proud of. What Shane would be too one day. “I don’t see problem.” 

“You don’t-You-What the heck am I even doing here?!” He shook on his handcuff again, futile even in a big effort. 

“I brought you here so you could make it up to me,” Ilya explained, calm as ever, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

Shane’s feet tried to reach out and kick him, but his head hurt, and his feet seemingly did nothing to the huge Russian man in front of him. 

“Make up what?” Shane spat out, not sure how he could owe the apology to someone who had presumably kidnapped him from the backseat of an uber- his last memory. 

“You killed them,” Ilya expressed with gritted teeth, the closest he’d allow himself to show anger for the accident after this day when it allstarted to get fixed. “My wife and my child.” 

“Your-” Shane sputtered, thinking about it all over again. 

He avoided the news like the plague after that, but from all he saw, the family wished to remain private. He’d always hoped that maybe she didn’t have many family, that he didn’t ruin too many lives. But here, he’d clearly ruined the life of his on-ice rival. 

It still didn’t explain why he went full-on crazy! 

He remembered hearing the woman's name once. Svetlana. Sure, it was Russian, but what were the odds that- shit. They were in Boston after a game when it all happened. He never connected or thought that it could be such a small world before now. 

He said he wanted him to make up for it. Shane was guilty. He could apologize. 

“I’m sorry,” He spoke, meaning it, even as his blood pressure rose and everything in him said he was in danger. 

Ilya gave him a small smile and moved his hand up to stroke Shane’s ankle. Shane pulled back but said nothing. Ilya still smiled, only sadder. 

“You don’t have to be sorry anymore, not now that you’re making it up to me.” 

“What you want more than an apology?” Shane asked with a scoff. “I can’t undo it, trust me, I wish I could.” 

“You don’t have to talk about the impossible,” Ilya shook his head. “I almost focused on it too, but then I realized there was solution you can give me.” 

“You want money?” 

“I have money,” Ilya told him softly. “What I need is wife and child.” 

“What the fuck does that have to do with me?!” Shane shook uncontrollably. 

Ilya’s smile turned wicked, and Shane swore he was staring down a shark in open waters. 

“Oh, you’ll see,” He confirmed. “You’ll see very soon.”

Chapter Text

Ilya left the room for a moment, and Shane was terrified to be left alone. How long? Where? What if something happened?

His brow began to sweat as he fought against the hold, tangling sheets, everything futile. He was stuck here. Not just on the bed but seemingly in the room, watching as Ilya took keys with him when he left, he used to lock it. 

He needed information. Information might be the closest thing he had to power. Where was he? Why was he here? Was anyone looking for him? Any one of those thing could help him, or at the very least give him the strength to keep going longer. 

He wanted to be found, forget how humiliating it was to be laid out on the bed like some Greek God on display. He’d run right out right now, scream for anyone to see him. That he was sorry, but he wasn’t willing to play games with this…this freak. 

Ilya Rozanov was always a problem; it was just now he was one more than ever. 

Suddenly, he heard the sound of the key in the lock and stopped fighting. He was tired, and escaping while Ilya was right there wouldn’t get him far anyway. It’d just get him a heavier-duty cuff against his good hockey wrist. 

The calm break Shane swore he’d get now that Ilya was back was quickly thrown out the window when he saw what the man was holding. A needle. Full of something. Something he knew couldn’t be good, destined for him. 

“No!” He struggled as Ilya stepped closer, not even giving him a word. “No! Please!” 

Shane’s body twisted, but it did no real good. 

“Shh, calm down, малышка,” Ilya spoke, far too calm and soothing for someone holding a weapon, looking down on him like a helpless baby in a cradle. “Is just your medicine.” 

“I don’t need medicine!” Shane shouted, still writhing. 

“Yes, you do!” 

“Well, I don’t want it!” Shane shot back, scooting as far away as he could get, sliding over the silk, no grounding. “Please!” 

Shane didn’t know what it was, but he had ideas. Poison for one. Then there was the idea that the drug could put him to sleep, keep him incapacitated, and he could do far worse than whatever he’d already done. He wanted his mind, dammit, even if he couldn’t have his body. 

“What even is it?!” Shane’s breathing gathered into a panic. 

“You don’t need to know,” Ilya decided for him. “But it will help you.” 

“I don’t wanna sleep!” 

“You don’t have to,” Ilya shook his head like Shane’s struggle was just silly. “You just need to stay still so I don’t hurt you!” 

“You’ve already hurt me, you sick bastard!”

Ilya didn’t dignify it with a response, and if anything, it just made Shane feel more powerless. 

“No,no,no,no,no-!” Shane cried out as he watched in horror. Ily’as hand went straight to his bare thigh, high up and possessive, and the needle was stabbed right into the flesh of his thigh. 

Shane was crying, even harder now that whatever it was was in his system. He didn’t know what was in it, sure, and Ilya might say it wasn’t bad, but how could he trust him? How could he believe this wasn’t detrimental to his escape and or wellbeing? 

After a while of crying, though, nothing seemed to happen. 

“See?” Ilya spoke as he saw Shane’s face calm a bit. “Is good for you.” 

“What is it?!” Shane asked

“Your medicine.” Ilya simply supplied. “You will take once a week.” 

“Once a week?” How long was this sick fuck holding him for?! “If you’re going to kill me, just do it already!” 

“Oh my sweet girl,” Ilya spoke as he placed the needle cap back on and sat on the bed next to Shane. “I would never kill you.” 

Shane flinched at the wording. “Why?” 

“Because,” He smiled widely, speaking like it was all so simple and obvious. “You’re my wife.” 

Shane froze, even if his body was mostly still before anyway. He looked at Ilya, really looked at him. But he saw no sign of a joke or punchline coming out anytime soon. 

“I’m not Svetlana,” Shane told him, making his voice as clear as possible. “Svetlana is dead.” 

He hated talking about the woman he killed so starkly, but it was just a fact at this point. One he wasn’t sure Ilya could wrap his mind around.

Ilya laughed, raising his hand up to Shane’s cheek to caress it. There was only so much Shane could do to try and pull away from it, but his eyes stayed locked, scared to look away, even with the new found intimacy of it. 

“I know she is dead, you killed her,” Ilya told him. “What do you think I am? Crazy?” 

“Yes!” 

Ilya looked pained when he said it, and for a moment, Shane wondered if he had gotten through to the man. If only he’d let him go, he’d never bring this up again. He just needed him to see that, too! But he wasn’t upset because Shane thought he was crazy. He was upset he’d have to discipline him, frown set still as his hand retreated from caressing his cheek to slapping it. 

Ilya’s hand was right back on it, rubbing the skin tenderly after the slap, but it still hurt like a bitch. Shane’s mouth was agape, breathing in air that made him feel suffocated. 

“You will soon learn not to talk to me like that,” Ilya told him. “You will be a good wife.” 

“I’m not your wife! I’m not even a girl!” Shane scoffed out, biting the inside of his lip so he wouldn’t dare cry again in front of this bastard. 

Ilya scoffed. “What is a girl really, other than whatever I want you to be?” 

Not what you want it to be. What he wanted him to be. What he could sculpt him as. His perfect wife. What he lost and then some. 

Shane just breathed, staring like a deer in headlights, unable to speak as Ilya seemed content to. 

“You will stay by my side, and you will cook me dinner, after games you will say ‘Ilya, can I rub your feet?’, and you will wear pretty dresses, and you will be the most generous lover.” 

Bile. Bile was coming up Shane’s throat. 

“Why not just find a real girl?” 

“Real girl did not take my family from me,” Ilya shrugged. “Besides, you are very pretty, Hollander, love freckles, will look so pretty in my shadow.” 

“But-But-” 

“You will also be perfect mama to our child,” Ilya smiled, moving a hand to Shane’s stomach, rubbing soothing circles on it that helped quell the very real nausea Shane was having now at these words. 

Shane’s eyes widened. 

No. 

“That’s why you need a real woman, that’s why I can’t-” 

“Hush, малышка,” Ilya brought his finger up to his pouty lips. “You do not get to play me for fool. You think I do not do research on person I am planing on kidnapping?” Ilya shook his head. “I thought you’d think better of me.” 

“I-” 

Before Shane could even attempt to say anything, Ilya’s hand was moving from his stomach to his pelvis, right over his cock cage. Squeezing it possessively. 

“I know you have dick,” Ilya explained. 

His hand then moved lower, past the cage, right to where he found what he was looking for. He gently grazed Shane’s lips and smiled. 

“I also know you have pussy too,” Ilya informed as he played with his lips. “You are what they call….intersex?” 

Shane wasn’t about to admit anything, even if it was obvious. Even if he was right there, groping the very evidence he needed for it to be true. He shut his eyes and willed it all away. 

“Is well kept secret, only doctors and family know, yes?” Ilya smiled. 

“Then how do you know?” 

“I am husband, of course,” He smiled, pulling his hand away and licking his sweet fingers. Sahne shuddered. “Plus, I looked at your medical records.” 

“How?”

“I stole them,” Ilya shrugged. “Just like I stole you.” 

“But…But…” Shane was running out of ways out of this, fast. “But I don’t wanna be stolen.” 

“And I didn’t wanna lose my wife and child, but I did,” Ilya told him. “Don’t make me lose you, too, lovely.” 

“Lose me-” Shane realized it was a threat, wrapped up in sugar. 

“Accidents happen, but doing something on purpose? You would have to be dumb to make that mistake. And you certainly couldn’t make it twice.” 

Shane might not have been drugged with poison, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be. Didn’t mean he couldn’t do more than slap his face or outline his pussy with his calloused, cold fingers. 

Ilya could kill him. Should probably kill him. He was unhinged. Untrustworthy. And problematic. 

And Shane needed to realize that surviving sometimes meant fighting the long fight and not the short one if he could just appease him long enough to leave the room. To…do something. Crying wouldn’t help. 

“Any questions?” Ilya asked him. 

“Where are we?” Shane tried in a timid voice. 

“My new home is far into woods, so we will be left alone,” Ilya smiled, happily. “And this is our room, the only place you’re allowed for now, but one day when you’re better, you can have whole house for yourself, like princess.” 

Shane looked around the room, at the big windows. Almost teasing now that anyone could look in and see him, but never would. 

“Even the people looking for me?” Shane also tried to say to get some information. 

“Nobody is looking, sweetheart,” Ilya told him. “I put out post on social media thaty you’re taking some time to yourself to heal after everything that happened.” 

“How long is that?” And did that mean he could leave eventually? 

“However long it takes for you to be my good girl,” Ilya cooed at all his questions. “But that point you won’t even want to leave.” 

Shane shook his head. He had his family, hockey, and his whole life. Of course, he’d want to leave. Ilya could take everything from him, but he could never take that want away. 

….Could he? 

“My parents will know somethings wrong,” Shane shot back. 

“You sure about that?” Ilya asked, reaching into his other pocket to grab something to show him. It was his phone. Shane tried to grab it with his free hand, but it was pulled away. “They seemed very supportive of your idea to take time off.” 

“You’re lying.” 

“Am I?” Ilya shot back with a look that told Shane he didn’t even have to lie. 

He was so screwed. 

“Good thing I reached into my pocket, I almost forgot,” Ilya laughed lightly, like they were in some kind of carefree bubble and not a hostage situation. 

Shane watched as he put the phone back and pulled out something else. Something new and jingly. 

A collar. 

Shane struggled again, but it was futile. He wanted to ask why he didn’t just put it on before, like the cock cage, but he didn’t wanna know. He didn’t wanna hear Ilya speak more than he had to. 

“Can you read it for me first, sweetheart?” 

Shane’s blood continued to boil at the names, lighting his face up red. 

But he had little choice but to read, so read he did. It was hard at first, because it was held so close to his face. But the collar had a heart tag, shining gold, with three words on it. 

Ilya’s Good Girl. 

Was that what he was now? What was he being reduced down to? The collar was taken to his throat and choked him, and all he could think of was nothing. 

Because how do you make any sense out of this? 

You couldn’t. 

And Ilya was going to make sure he couldn’t escape it either.

Chapter Text

Ilya still lay there, pulling back from the collar he fastened around Chane’s neck. It glimmered sparkly pink and gold under the bright natural lights. Ilya thought they brought out his dark drown eyes beautifully. Shane couldn’t see himself describing it, but he was glad he couldn’t. How could he face this without showing more weakness than he needed to? 

The plan was to be strong until he could do something about it, but Ilya was the one who was going to make that choice, whether Shane knew it or not. He wasn’t just a wife, but a toy he could push. And if he wanted Shane to break, he’d make it happen. 

Ilya moved to take his hand and just hold it. Shane looked away, but Ilya didn’t waste energy chastising him. He was new. He’d get there. He moved the free hand up to his collar and let him feel the sewn edges of the leather. 

“Too tight or just right?” He asked him, genuinely looking for his wife to be comfortable. Because none of this was a punishment, and he’d see that soon. It was a gift. 

Shane swallowed against it, and while it was tight, it wasn’t too tight. It was the tightness Ilya wanted. The kind that reminded him it was there. 

But he couldn’t say it was right. Not when it was so intrinsically wrong to him. He refused to speak. 

“Hey,” Ilya snapped his hand to get his attention. “I am speaking to you.” 

He wished he wasn’t. 

Why was he still here? Why couldn’t he go out and away from him? Get hit by a bus, or maybe just get hit by some common sense that this was insane. 

Shane didn’t think Ilya was born evil. He thought he became evil the second his twisted mind realized that grief was too much of a cross to bear. But it didn’t mean he needed to coddle the man like he was innocent. He was far from it. 

“Hey!” Ilya repeated, this time grabbing his chin and forcing him to look. “You are being disrespectful.” 

Shane had no choice but to stare up at him, thumb on his chin with the weight of a hammer. It stung. But he wouldn’t cry or crack. He’d just breathe through it all, like his therapist always told him in bad situations. 

“Do you know what happens to disrespectful wives?” Ilya taunts him. 

Shane still somehow had the guts to say nothing, even as Ilya’s eyes darken into dangerous territory. 

“Fine,” He huffs, throwing the boy away at the chin, against the bedboard. “I show you.” 

Shane’s head hit the dark wood, but before he could so much as wince, he was being turned around. Two big hands on his hips, forcing him over, twisting his chained wrist, and shoving his head into the pillows. 

He sucked in a breath from the motion and only had a moment to fear before he realized what this was. 

A sharp smack came down on his ass that sounded like lightning cracking in the room's echoes. Ilya was spanking him. As a grown 23-year-old man, he was getting spanked in bed for being disobedient. He was never even spanked as a child! This wasn’t fair or right. It was fucked up. 

“Stop!” Shane immediately spoke again. 

Progress, but progress was too late. 

“No, be good girl and take punishment,” Ilya spoke, no emotion to his voice as he reigned down another smack, this time to the other side. 

Spank after spank, with no mercy, were applied. This wasn’t one of those count to ten and be done things. No. He didn’t know when it’d stop, and it felt like it’d go on forever. His ass hurt, and he was sure it had bloomed into red, raised skin by now. Maybe he’d even managed to brand him with his handprint. Ilya would love that, wouldn’t he? Another way to show possession. 

“Please!” Shane cried, lying flat on the surface, as if he could bury himself and hide away from the spanks. 

Shane noticed that after a while, he was crying, and once that happened, he lost it even more. The pain, the humiliation, the genuine fear that had bubbled up in him. He was a sobbing mess by the time that Ilya decided it’d been enough. 

Ilya ran his hand over his ass, satisfied by what he’d done, and spoke over the sobbing. “Are you sorry?” If he wasn’t, he’d be in for more. And it wasn’t just Ilya who knew this, but Shane too. 

Far too broken to care, he agreed. “Yes! I’m so sorry! I’m sorry, Ilya, I’m sorry!” 

“Shhh,” He hushed the boy as he turned him back around. 

Shane didn’t like the feeling of the covers on his bottom; even if they were soft, it was all pressure, and he whined around the turn. 

Ilya pittied her. This was his wife. She made a mistake. She was new. He still needed to care for her afterward and let her know it was over. That he was there. That he could give pain, but he could take it away too. 

“Oh, соленько,” He cooed down at the teary, beautiful mess in front of him, he made. “Come here…” 

Ilya picked the boy up like he weighed nothing and pulled him into his arms. He lay down and let him rest on top of him, listening to the pained tears as Shane was forced to listen to the sound of Ilya’s heartbeat. 

He rubbed circles on his back and appreciated how smooth and beautiful his bare skin was, especially in contrast to his clothed skin. She was perfect. There was no question about it. Fate had made it so he’d have the perfect solution, yes, but also the perfect partner. 

Shane was too shaken to fight. Too shaken to even think about how bad an idea fighting again would be. He just lay there and let the other man hold him while he cried to himself. 

Was this mourning? It couldn’t just be pain. He had taken hits in hockey that didn’t even make him flinch, let alone tear. He felt emotional, but wasn’t that allowed in a fucked up situation like this? Or was he just being the emotional little doll Ilya wanted to play with? The idea of nothing being right made him feel just as stuck emotionally as he was physically, and the tears only continued to stream. 

He found a place on his chest and just lay there, letting him cry himself out. Ilya’s hands ran all over him, but at least they stayed in fairly pure places. Until the crying stopped. That was Ilya’s cue that he was better, was it not? And what else could he want when he’s better than exactly what he told him he wanted? 

His fingers moved to the back of him, finding the small of his back and then sliding down into his crack to tease at his hole. 

Shane whined, an objectory sound, that did nothing to make anyone stop. He didn’t want to be touched anymore. He could admit the hands rubbing circles in his back felt good, but that was just science, not because it was Ilya. If he dared to get turned on by this… this monster, he’d never forgive himself. 

He was so sensitive back there, though. He’d never had another man touch him there. He was, well, a virgin really. He was married to hockey, and when he thought too hard about his sexuality, he panicked. Not to mention, even if he tried to force himself to be with a woman, he was worried about the whole intersex thing being accepted. 

So now, not only had Shane and his silicone dildo teased his hole, but Ilya had. And his fingers were so big, he almost felt like a girl in his touch. Helpless too, the way his whine left off on a small moan as he stuck himself into the ring. 

“Nooo…” Shane told him, not opening his eyes or moving an inch. 

“Shhh,” He simply dismissed him as he moved even lower, over his perineum and onto tease the end of his pussy lips. “You said you were sorry.” 

Shane flinched. “I am.” 

“Then be good girl,” Ilya provided, like it as so simple. 

Shane didn’t want this. Not on a good day and not on a bad day either. He knew he’d try, he’d said as much, but so soon? Right after he’d gotten his ass beat too? 

“Come on baby, you can get wetter for me, right?” Ilya spoke as he began placing kissing on the top of Shane’s head. “Show daddy how much you want him to fuck you.” 

Ilya moved his body down so that Shane’s head was closer to his ears and began kissing at the boy’s soft neck, decorating around the collar with his tongue, dipping in and around it. 

“I-I don’t-” Shane was out of it, let alone well enough for words. 

“Shhh,” Ilya shushed him yet again, not very fond of the talking it seemed, or at least the talking that rejected him. “Daddy is being so good to you, be good for me.” 

Shane hadn’t even processed it the first time he’d said it. Calling himself daddy like some kind of..some kind of… pervert. Why was it actually kinda fitting though? Why did it make his spine tingle as he was grabbed in another ste of handfuls that emphasized just how much smaller he was than the man who’d taken him hostage. 

His breathing caught up in a bit more of panic, and he squirmed a bit to match it but it ws useless.

Ilya continued to move kisses from place to place, the first time his lips ever graced his wife. The first time of many. The first of a lifetimes. Because this wife? She was here to stay. He’d make sure of it. 

His fingers moved to between his folds, massaging them and making his way closer and closer to his core. Just like he asked him to, he got wetter, his own body betraying him. Between the sucking on his collarbone and the way his hands felt on his most delicate place, he knew it was futile, no matter what he truly wanted. 

He mourned a bit more once Ilya moved inside him with a finger. This was his first time, huh? And sure it was with a man who was incredibly attractive, but it was also with a man who didn’t take no. Who saw him as a woman. Who wanted to make love to him like one. 

Shane bit his lips to stop the noises but once Ilya was opening him with two fingers in his cunt he couldn’t help but let a moan slide. It felt so good. The fingers, bigger than his own created a stretch that was unreal. He could only imagine how the stretch would feel when he put what he really wanted in him. 

An involuntary whine escaped when Ilya pulled back, one Ilya couldn’t help but coo at, making Shane’s face red. Ilya quickly undressed and in front of Shane it was something horrifying. Ilya was huge. How was he meant to take that? 

“Ilya-” 

“You’ll be fine,” Ilay assured him as he kneeled back onto the bed. “Haven’t broken anyone yet.” 

“But I’ve never taken-” Shane stopped himself, not finishing the sentence, not able to. 

Ilya knew what he meant though. “I know, but that just makes it more special yes?” He moved to hover himself right over his re-strecthed cunt. “You’ll only know, only need the feel of one cock for your slutty little hole, won’t you?” 

“I-” Shane couldn’t help but gasp as Ilya stuck the tip in. Even the tip stopped him. Let alone the rest. 

Shane grabbed at his back with his nails, as if it could make him feel grounded. Ilay just saw it as a clingy little woman under him who couldn’t get enough of his dick in her greedy cunt. All he saw Shane as right now. 

“Just enjoy,” He told her, starting to move in and out of her. 

The pace at first was soft, but then it worked up into more, punching noises out of Shane like no other. He cursed himself for each noise, but he couldn’t help it. His body spoke for him. And his body was on fire with it all. 

“Tell me what you want,” Ilya said. 

“I-I want you off of me-” He cried. 

Ilya looked down at him, and for a second, Shane wondered if he’d pull out and let it go for now. But no. Instead he decided he needed another sound-altering slap to the face. 

“Stop lying!” He seethed. “You don’t think I can feel how you want me? How bad you want this?” 

Ilya kept moving, even harder now. 

“Now stop being a brat and ask me for my baby.”  He said smply, looking down with a bit of sweat on his hairline. 

Shane had been wide eyed since he was slapped, but the whole time he watched as his eyes turned a thousand shades of black. From lust, want, evil, you name it. 

“I can’t-” He sobbed, sincere. 

“Yes you can,” Ilya told him. “I won’t cum until you do.” 

Which meant, I won’t stop fucking you until you do. 

Shane didn’t want his dick, no matter how full it made him feel right now. He never consented. He didn’t want his seed. Whether it got him pregnant or not, he’d feel so filthy he’d never recover. And he didn’t, under any circumstance want a baby. Let alone Ilya’s baby. 

Ilya moved a hand back, ready to slap him again when Shane winced before he could even hit him. A chance. A chance to be good. He usually loved being good. But today? It was a fight just to not break, let alone bend for someone. 

“Fine,” He said, tear falling. “I want-I want your baby.” 

“Whose baby?” He picked up the pace again, being relentless with his G-spot. 

“Oh fuck,” He moaned, leaning his head back and closing his eyes at how sensitive he was to it all. How even when his brain said one thing, his body could say another, and he had to just take them both despite himself. 

It felt so good, especially when Ilya reached up to circle his clit. He hated that it felt good. But what could he do? He didn’t have a choice. With this or the words. Not if he wanted to make it out of this alive. 

“I want your babies, daddy!” Shane gave in, another moan falling out of his lips as he did. 

“Louder!” Ilya growled. 

“Babies, daddy, need your babies in me,” He cried, biting his lip to starve off another moan right after them, legs falling blindly at the side, hoping for more of what he swore he’d never asked for. 

With that, Ilya was cumming. Hot and fast and so full that Shane felt pregnant by the time he pulled out. A bit of the cum tried to trickle out after Ilya’s dick, but he pushed it back in with his thumb. Each push back in revealing another moan from Shane, who was overstimulated at the touches. 

“Perfect,” Ilya said as he shoved the last of the cum back in him and kissed at his thighs. “Such a perfect, perfect, girl.”

Chapter Text

It was Shane’s turn to snap after everything that happened. Not just snap, but bend, and then break into a million tiny pieces. 

Ilya had taken him. Ilya had locked him away. He’d laid kisses on his skin that burnt his nervous system and then claimed him. Ilya had raped him. There was no other word or way around it. It’s what happened. It’s what he couldn’t escape from any more than he could from his bindings to the bed. It’s what he was forced to face. 

How did he face it? He did his best not to. Something in him broke, like the last string of hope tied around his heart that he’d get out and be okay. That he didn’t need to be touched or used. That sometimes, somehow, survivors didn’t have to suffer first. But he did. And now he was. 

He just laid there. At first, Ilya thought maybe he was tired after almost cumming on his cock like such a good yet reluctant girl. He snuggled up to him, careful of where he was handcuffed to the bed, and found a home in the crook of his neck. Shane smelled like alcohol still, probably spilling some on himself the night he was taken. But he also smelled like sex. And he also smelled like what Ilya would have imagined Shane to smell like. Unique, but perfect. What he’d always picture when he closed his eyes and wished for his wife. 

The sheets beneath them were dirty and sweaty, but Ilya let his lamb sleep. In reality, Shane wasn’t asleep. His eyes were shut, shut so tight they hurt, but aware of everything. Awake in the way he wished he wasn’t. Sleep would have been a haven. Lying in the arms of a predator was the opposite. It was hell. 

In the past, he’d have never used such words for him. Sure, he hated him in the way any good sports rival did, with respect above any hatred. But now? He didn’t respect him. He loathed him. And dammit, he wished he were braver, but he feared him too. 

He lay there, stuck like a frozen icicle on the roof of a home. Waiting to fall down fast and crumble. He was numb to it. 

Eventually, Ilya noticed. Shane was sure he said something, but everything sounded like it was underwater now. He couldn’t surface. Just like when he’d go out on the lake of his parents' cabin in the winter, to test and see if the ice was good enough for skating. He’d put one foot on, dare to test his weight on it. His hands would shake, but he knew no matter what, the worst that would happen is that he’d fall in. And he’d resurface. Would he resurface now? He wasn’t sure he even had the choice to, let alone the strength to. 

He hated to think of himself as too weak, but maybe he was. Maybe this was why he was so different. Maybe it wasn’t just the autism or the way his mother pushed him to be a role model. Maybe the way he broke down all the time was a sign that he was broken.

If that was the case, why did Ilya want a broken toy? That’s all he was, right? A toy to distract Ilya from the death of his wife and child. Something shiny and new with promise. To put a smile on his face and make him forget. If only Shane could be gifted the gift that was forgetting….

Ilya could have any woman he wanted. And he chose a man. Not just any man, but his rival. Not just any rival, but someone who hurt his life off the ice, too, whether it be an accident or not. 

Would Shane want revenge in Ilya’s shoes? He wanted to think he was a better person than that, but he’d never lost everything. At least until now. And what wouldn’t he do to break free of these chains? 

Ilya wasn’t innocent, but Shane did have to question if he thought maybe he really was justified in it. If maybe he even thought he was owed this. Life was unfair, but Shane would have been willing to give him something. Money. An apology. A lifetime of regret. Why did he have to give him this? 

An everything for an everything, he supposed. 

What was everything to Shane Hollander exactly? Well, it was hockey games and giving locker room speeches to inspire even the most hopeless of Metroes. It was fresh ice, and the sound of crowds cheering for him to score a goal he knew he could make if he just worked a little bit harder at it. It was nights out with the team like he used to before the accident. It was staying sober next to a whole team of hockey players celebrating their wins. It was driving a drunk J.J. back from the bar and texting Jackie to make sure Hayden got home okay. It was dinner with the whole Pike family. It was dinner with his own family too, his mother and father, anytime and anywhere they asked. It was memories and familiar places mixed with the new ones, too. It was being confident in himself after so long of not. 

It was complicated, but Ilya managed to find what it was. And he was slowly peeling back layers until Shane Hollander wasn’t even Shane Hollander anymore. And if he wasn’t, what was he? Ilya’s whore? He’d have shuddered at the thought if his body was moving even an inch. 

Ilya figured he could wait a bit. That Shane would come to on his own. But then an hour passed where he just laid there next to his new wife and nothing changed. He’d tried playing with his hair, kissing at his shoulder blades, and even caressing his ass, but nothing worked to get a reaction- any reaction- from the boy. 

He almost worried, but he couldn’t show worry. Not when that could be equated to weakness. He knew this would take time for Shane. That they both had to be brave as things adjusted. That it’d all be worth it eventually. 

His great idea was to try and leave the room for a bit. Maybe he’d come out of his proverbial shell if he felt the ‘threat’ wasn’t around. With one final kiss to the boy’s temple, sweet and saccrine, full of hope for him to just snap out of it, Ilya gathered his clothes and left the room. He needed to get some things in order anyway. 

When Ilya left, though, Shane didn’t stir. His heart rate dropped a bit lower, and his breathing evened out, like his outer body at least knew it could lower it’s forcefield. But inside? He was still a blank, blue canvas. 

He fell asleep like that. Into a sleep of nothingness. And only one thing stirred him back. 

The undeniable, uncontrollable urge to pee. 

He stirred with a light whine, eyes opening to the scene he’d almost forgotten about. He closed his eyes again, then reopened them. Nope. Still here. And still tied up, if his outstretched arm’s pain was any indication. 

Oh god. He wasn’t just a prisoner of this place, but of this bed. He moved towards the center of it, hopeful to take some stress off his arm, no longer needing to place distance between himself and the Russian man who’d taken him. He looked up at the ceiling, but there was no hope there either. He almost wished he were still in shock. 

Where was Ilya? He wished the man would leave for what felt like hours after he’d violated him to no avail, and now that he needs him, he’s gone? What cruel fate this was. What cruel fate all of this was. 

Shane’s body betrayed him again, and tears were lurching to the edge of his eyes, ready to dive off and make waves on his freckled cheeks. Would Ilya still find them so pretty if they were taken over with tears? Probably. But that didn’t mean he wanted to cry. He wanted to be strong. Wanted to not be broken, even if it was just for one moment of this. 

Would it always feel like this? Like he was mourning himself one second and then mourning the world around him the next? Were they both gone? Or did it just feel like it? Was this part of the plan to confuse and hurt him? He knew nothing anymore. 

“It was an accident!” Shane cried, to no one in particular, as the ceiling became more blurred and more tears ventured up to the surface. 

He tugged on his arm, even with the residual pain, and it was once again fruitless. Why did he bother trying? Bother crying? Bother pleading? To whom was he pleading anyway? There was no God, at least one who cared for him, if this was where he’d placed him for something he knew was an accident. His memory was all over the place, but he knew that. 

He continued crying pathetically to himself. Some tears rolled off his face and onto the pillow under his head, and all he could think of was that he was in every bodily fluid imaginable right now. From sweat to cum to tears. All that was missing was ironically all he needed to fucking do. 

“Fuck,” He cried, refusing to actually call out to the bastard that trapped him here like a mouse. “Please.” 

Just as another set of tears rolled down over his skin’s puffy expanse, the door opened. 

“Моя любовь?” Ilya’s voice cut through his crying, making him take a sharp intake of air and still again. “You are awake?” 

Ilya knew he wasn’t sleeping when he left, and he had no way of knowing he’d fallen asleep in the few hours after it, but he didn’t need Shane to know that. Let the boy think he fooled him. Let him think he actually had power here. ‘An upper hand’ of sorts, only in reality, his hand was locked in a cold metal cuff, and only Ilya had the key.

Shane said nothing, biting his tongue to see if the tears would stop in time. They didn’t. They laid there, in their own tracks and tearstains. Ilya noticed them instantly. 

“Oh, sweetheart…” Ilay cooed sadly down at him, using his thumbs to clear the tears from his heated cheeks. “What’s wrong?” 

‘What wasn’t wrong?’ Shane thought.

To be fair, though, out of what was wrong, there was only so much he could voice. Only so much is even worth voicing. Telling him he was upset because he was stuck here would do nothing. Saying he’d just raped him was something that his brain and tongue couldn’t agree upon admitting outloud yet. But this small thing? Maybe he could admit that. Especially if it got him some help. 

God, though, it would feel pathetic. There was no changing that fact, no chance in hiding it either. When was the last time he had to pee so bad he cried over it? The last time he even had to ask someone for permission to go? 

Ilya’s hands moved to make him look at him, and he just couldn’t. They were these gorgeous, light colored eyes. They looked at him- looked into him. In another life, maybe he’d have fallen in love with eyes like those… 

“I have to pee…” Shane said, wincing slightly as he admitted it. Teeth barred down on teeth as he tried not to sob through it like someone weak, he refused to portray. 

“Oh,” Ilya answered, sounding casual. “Why didn’t you just say?” 

Shane almost laughed. Maybe he was delirious. Maybe this was all one big nightmare, but dammit, he almost laughed in its face. It just seemed too simple. Not evil enough. He was shocked; he didn’t need to beg for it or something equally humiliating. Was he just going to let him go? 

“I-” 

“Shh,” Ilya hushed him as he reached over to take his cuff off. 

Take his cuff off. 

It made sense. Unless Ilya was gonna have him piss in some bedpan, he’d need to get up and off the bed. He felt like this was a win on top of a win, even if it should have been obvious. Felt like he should push his luck and hope for something else. Not to be freed, no, that’d be too far. But maybe something like fresh sheets. A set that wouldn’t make his sensory overload act up. 

When Ilya undid the cuff from the bed, he left the other end around Shane’s wrist. Which, okay, it was annoying, but this was so much better. He could move his arm however he wanted with only a small bit of weight on the end. 

“Thank you,” He found himself mumbling before he could even process whether or not he should. It wasn’t deserved, but was it best to say it? It didn’t matter now. He said it. 

“You’re welcome, my love,” Ilya spoke back, grabbing his free hand and pulling him up and out of the bed. 

Ilya’s big hands had no problem pulling him out of their bed. They had no problem steadying the boy when he stood on his own two bare feet for the first time in almost 20 hours. Ilya smiled when Shane didn’t pull back from the touch. He thought he would, given that his touch had just sent him under for a while, but no, he clearly felt something else now. Desperation or safety? Ilya knew one was more likely than the other. 

“Let’s go,” Ilya motioned towards the door in the corner of the room. Not the door he’d gone out before, but a different one. One that led to an en suite. 

Ilya made Shane go first, a gentle hand ghosting on his hip as a reminder not to do anything stupid. Shane could, he supposed. The other door was right there. But what was behind it? And what about the door itself? It was there, but was it locked? Probably. And then he’d probably lose the privilege of going to the bathroom, too. Something he did not need to lose. 

Ilya reached in front of him as they approached the doorway, grabbing the light switch and pushing it up so the lights would come on all at once. It was bright, but not like the rest of the room. This was more artificial. 

Shane hoped the door would then be grabbed and shut behind him, but no. No such luck. 

“You don’t have to stay here…” Shane said, a bit of pleading for some humanity in his eyes. 

Ilya let out a soft sound of amusement. “Is fine, just go.” 

Shane looked from Ilya down to the pink cage on his cock. It looked the same as it did before. Pink metal confines his dick, a bow on top for insult. 

“But the cage-” He grabbed it lightly.

“You can pee with a cage on, Shane.” Ilya rolled his eyes. “Now go.” 

It wasn’t a question. It was a command. And there was clearly no room for negotiating with the way his face turned to impatient stone. 

He’d never peed with a cock cage on. Never even worn a cock cage until that very day. He couldn’t see the very bottom, but he ahd to assume if he could pee that meant there was room there for it. That it wouldn’t come back up and splash at him- the idea making him want to gag. Especially without a shower guaranteed anytime soon. 

He missed control. He missed being able to pick things, even if they were stupid and simple like this. He missed it more than he missed anything he thought for a second. 

The urge to pee was building, though, and he had to go now. He could worry about control when his bladder wasn’t on fire. 

He stepped over to the toilet, and very clean white porcelain shone back at him. At least Ilya kept a nice house. One he’d be expected to keep soon? He couldn’t go there. He shook it out of his head and lifted the lid, taking his stance to try to pee with this contraption on. 

Right before he could let go, though, Ilya was calling attention to himself again. 

“Малыш,” The pet name felt like a bullet given his tone. “That is not how girls pee.” 

Shane’s entire body felt a wave of dread over it. Even here. Even when he had to pee, he was being reduced to something else. To a girl. Girls were fine, but he wasn’t one. And he hasn’t peed sitting down since he was a small child. 

Was it worth the fight? Did he even have time to fight before he started peeing while standing and disobeying him anyway? What would the price for that be? More spanks? Something worse? He couldn’t stomach more today. He gave in and flipped the seat back down so he could sit. 

He tucked his caged dick down, and in seconds, he was pissing. In front of Ilya, in Ilya’s private bathroom, sitting down like a total sissy. 

Did Ilya like watching? Was this just more of a perverted kink thing? Or was this just control? Hunger to control every part of the other that he’d follow him to the ends of the Earth to do it, he imagined. It sounded like the Ilya he’d been getting to know here. 

He dared look up at the man, and he was just smiling. His thoughts were transparent. He knew what he was thinking to himself. Good Girl. Thank god he didn’t utter them aloud. Shane couldn’t take it in this position. Couldn’t take much more if he tried. Maybe he’d just go back to sleep after, try and see if he could wake up somewhere else. 

Something, though, about Ilya’s smile told him it wouldn’t be so simple. Be so easy. Be so lucky. Nothing had happened so far, and he was sure that as long as Ilya kept focus on the control, it never would.

Chapter Text

Shane was guided back to the bed with a gentle hand on the small of his back, keeping him marching forward, not even letting him look elsewhere for an escape, the way that Ilya caged him in with his body. The bed was still dirty, but Ilya had the mind to lay a duvet out over it for him for the time being. It was also purple, the same material, just thicker. 

Shane waited for Ilya to attach him back to the bed rails with the handcuff, even succumbing to placing his wrist up and out for better access. But as he waited, he felt nothing. He opened his eyes to see Ilya smiling at him, amused. 

He was watching a helpless little mouse in a mousetrap, and being smiled at like that pushed Shane more than anything else had. Like he was just too good, too sweet, too easy. The joke was on Ilya, because doing this didn’t mean he gave up. It just meant he knew when to fight his battles. He was already starting to think of ways to do just that. Picturing the next time he’d be uncuffed before he was even cuffed again. 

“What?” Shane asked as he slowly pulled his hand back to his body, worried there was some sort of trick. 

Ilya looked at him like a small, scared little snack. Like the big bad wolf had closed in on the cottage and didn’t need a meal. The wolf, teeth barred, needed a show. A puppet show of sorts where he could pull the strings, and he could reap the rewards. 

“I’m not going to lock your arm back up yet,” He told the boy. 

Shane kept his mouth closed, sure as hell not trusting this. There had to be a catch. A twist. Something. 

“I’m going to lock your ankle.” 

There it was. But this was still an improvement, right? At least it saved his shoulder from bad angles and creaking pains after sleeping for too long on it. 

“My-my ankle?” Shane suddenly pulled his body up, knees to his chest, as he tried to shield himself a bit more, keeping his limbs close. 

“Yes,” Ilya said. “Now, gimme.” 

Ilya waited, but Shane was stuck like a statue there, frozen in time. He didn’t wanna give anything to this man. Make any of this easier for him. Ilya reached for his ankle anyway, and Shane couldn’t help the way he kicked out against the hold. 

“Hey!” Ilya said, grabbing his ankle a lot firmer this time and pulling his whole body down the bed so he could be closer to his face. “We don’t kick.” 

Shane swallowed, facing the barred teeth up close now. Ilya looked like he could rip him to shreds if he wanted to. Shane almost wished he did. It’d be over quicker. He’d have some dignity. 

“And to think I was going to give you a reward for being so good in the bathroom.” Ilya shook his head as he manhandled Shane’s right ankle without any care to be gentle now. 

Shane’s body twisted and hissed as he tried to move with his captor's angles, but he was never fast enough, never good enough. He did, however, catch what he said, and once again had to wonder if it was a trick. If there was a catch. If the rewards were really some joke. 

He wasn’t sure what else the man could do to make him more humiliated. He was chained to a bed in nothing but a cockcage and a collar. He was subjected to names and words that, for someone else, would be gentle but for him were just poisonous tauntings. 

He froze for a second as the man finished tightening the restraint, scared that the reward would just get him raped again. He was sure it’d happen again, no matter what, though, unless he got out of here. 

He had to bite the bait, didn’t he? And Ilya knew he was so desperate he had no choice in it either. He set it all up. Make him interested in a reward, and make him scared of accepting or rejecting it. Hopeful it’d get him one step closer to something other than this dejected, starving man he’d become. 

“What reward?” Shane’s hands settled behind him, holding up his weight as best as he could in the position. 

“Oh? You still want?” Ilya’s brow rose. 

Shane nodded, still scared but not going back. What if, for once in this twisted new reality, a reward wasn’t some code but an actual reward? He’d be the dog begging for the bone if the bone were worth it, no matter how sad that made him look. Because the alternative? Of not doing whatever it took? That was worse. 

“Well, I suppose I could give you reward still…. If you do something for me first.” 

Okay, the expected catch, right there in front of him. Only the vagueness of it made him shiver. Not from how cold his bare skin was, but from what he could imagine. 

He couldn’t help but look down. To see if Ilya was already hard at the idea of forcing him on him again. Of having it be something Shane agreed to in this context. Because that’s what it had to be, right? 

Ilya noticed the boy’s eyes shift, mixed with his expression, and he couldn’t help but laugh at the boy, startling him further. 

“Not everything is about sex, милая девушка,” He told him, forcing Shane’s eyes back up, but not letting them meet Ilya’s. “But if you also want some of Daddy’s cock I can-” 

“Enough with the games!” Shane snapped. “If you want something from me, the least you could do is just say it instead of acting like a fucking clown!” 

Shane didn’t regret what he said. He’d say it again. He expected a slap, a removal of the offer, something. He was prepared for it. 

Instead, all he got was Ilya tsking as he walked over to the dresser on the far side of the room, grabbing something off the top of it and bringing them back to the bed. 

“You’re a brat, but you are right,” He said as he dropped a folder down in front of Shane. “I cannot expect you to read my mind; you are still so confused and fragile.” 

“I’m not-” 

Ilya didn’t let him object; he just kept going, this time handing the man a pen. Shane looked at it. It was just a normal pen. Nothing fancy. He briefly wondered if it could be a weapon, but there was no way he was getting the leverage here. 

“If you sign those for me,” Ilya said, moving to open the folder, revealing a piece of fancy paper. “I will let you keep the pen.” 

Shane’s face dropped, not even focusing on the paper that was face up in front of him. His reward was a pen? 

“What am I supposed to do with a pen, Ilya?” He asked, almost angry enough to chuck the insult of a gift at his face. Instead, he gripped it harder. 

“Well, I would also give you some paper,” Ilya explained. “Am not cruel.” 

Shane wanted to laugh at that. Laugh like a maniac and never come back down to Earth from it. If he wasn’t cruel, then what was he? That was like saying Shane wasn’t good at hockey. It was ridiculous. 

Some papers didn’t make his reward any better. What could he do with that? Sure, he could draw or write or even try some of the old school origami he used to do in between classes again, but what good would that do? What did these gifts do that actually fucking mattered?! 

Shane just stared at him. Unmoving. 

Ilya sighed. “Shane, do you need me to spell it out for you?” 

Shane scoffed. “Kinda!” 

“You can do whatever you want with this paper,” Ilya explained. “Including writing a letter to your family.” 

Shane froze. That was something. That was something huge. That was more than a pen and paper. That was communication with the outside world. That was words he didn’t have the power to say before. It was… everything. 

Shane was still scared there was a twist, but if there wasn’t, then this was actually a great reward. One he can’t say was worth it, because none of this was, but one that he’d never take for granted.

“You want?” 

Shane nodded again, faster this time, making sure Ilya knew he did. Not trusting his mouth to not spew more hate at him. 

“Then sign those first,” Ilya demanded, pointing back down at the papers in the folder that clearly weren’t for letter writing. 

Shane looked down at them, reading the first page slowly, feeling his stomach sink as he took in what it said. What it meant. What it was. 

“How the fuck did you get a marriage license with my name on it?” Shane sputtered. 

Ilya sat down behind him, sighing as he settled into their bed. He pinched Shane on the ass, making him jump as he found a comfortable position. 

“No cursing,” Ilya reminded him. “And you don’t need to worry your pretty little head about how I get things. If they are good for you, I will always find a way.” 

This wasn’t good for him. But the letter was. The letter…if he could somehow signal something to them that Ilya wouldn’t catch… it’d maybe even be his ticket out of here. 

Was he willing to sign some papers to get to that letter? Yes. Sure, they weren’t just papers; it was a marital contract, but those could be annulled. This was under duress. This wasn’t real, whether he signed his name or not. It was just a piece of stupid paper. 

“And if I sign this, you’ll really let me send a letter to my parents?” Sahne asked, pen hovering over the license, shaking. 

“Yes,” Ilya told him. “I never would lie to you, sweetheart,” He assured him. “I love you.”

Shane closed his eyes and tried to imagine it was someone other than Ilya saying it. So close to him he could feel their breath. His family, his teammates, his friends, anyone who would signal safety. The reason he had to go ahead and sign this. 

It was quick. Shane had signed a ton of autographs in his career. He knew how to sign something and keep on moving on. He didn’t have to overthink it. He couldn’t if he wanted to avoid panicking. 

Ilya reached over him for the paper and checked them over. They were all in order, so all he could do now was smile. They were signed, and that made them official. 

He leaned back into Shane and breathed in the scent of the man. Mostly, he just smelled like sweat and sex, but he could never get enough of his wife. The man who didn’t mean to take this role in his life, but fit so perfectly that he could never let go.

Having Shane sign the papers was important. Ilya could have forged them, but where was the fun in that? Shane signed them. He, himself, agreed that he was his now. And that was worth more than Shane knew to Ilya. Gave him butterflies in his stomach and made his heart dance around; truly and insanely in love. 

He moved over to kiss him. A real sweet kiss, not one of possession, but of thanks. To thank Shane and the world for what they had now.

Shane was such a good girl. And he was following the plan so nicely. Sure, Ilya had to pretend to give him power sometimes, but who did that hurt? Nobody. Shane got to think he earned a letter home, and Ilya got his license signed and a way to have Shane’s family not suspect anything from their missing son. 

He’d check the letter, make sure nothing bad was in it, and then he would send it. Because he wasn’t lying and he’d never lie to his Shane. He meant that. Just like he meant it when he said that he’d be his wife forever.

Chapter Text

One letter. One attempt to contact home. No room for errors. Ilya made it all clear the moment he allowed him to start on his letter. The first step, though, was mostly thinking.

What could he say that would help him? And more importantly, what could he say that could help him that Ilya wouldn’t catch? He wasn’t dumb enough to think Ilya would send the letter blindly, so it had to be creative and sly. Had to be just enough to tip someone else off while keeping Ilya in the dark. 

Shane wondered what would happen if Ilya did catch him writing something he deemed too far. Would he let him try again, or would this be his only shot? Would he punish him? He still felt the sting on his ass and the tear stains on his cheeks from the spanking, and he couldn’t take another right now, not on top of everything else he’d just done. Including signing away his life to the man in the form of a real marriage. 

Then Shane had a thought that was worse than a punishment for himself. What if he took out whatever rage he felt towards the disobedience on his parents? What if he made it so there was no one to send a letter to? He didn’t put anything above the man, clearly delusional and mad with power. 

Was it even safe to tip them off? What if he successfully did it all, and his parents got the letter and ran to his rescue? He can’t see Ilya letting them take him at any cost. 

His blood ran cold with worry, and now all he could think about was protecting the people he loved most. He could get out of here still. Without their help. This wasn’t game over, it wasn’t checkmate, it was just a small setback and a chance to ensure the only one he had to worry about was himself. 

“Can I have something to write it on?” Shane asked shyly, calling over to where Ilya sat on a chair in the room, looking over there newly signed marriage license. 

Ilya hummed at the request, affirmatively, that he’d get him something to write on. He almost wished he didn’t, though. That he could continue to call him a monster for every single action he did, and not have to actually thank him for things he wasn’t entitled to. 

Ilya brought over a stack of magazines, and Shane could tell instantly they weren’t ones he subscribed to for himself. Vogue. Women’s Health. Cosmopolitan. Did these belong to Svetlana, or worse, did he get them for Shane? 

“Are these…” Shane couldn’t find the words to ask. 

Luckily, Ilya got the idea. “Yes, they are for you. I do not know how long I will need to keep you in this room, and I don’t want your brain to turn to mush getting all bored.” 

As if these would be stimulating enough reads. 

“I also got you a few books,” Ilya expressed. “But I think those will be better for closer to the baby.” 

Shane’s stomach twisted with nausea. He’d almost forgotten that the trauma he put him through was for the purpose of a baby. Or, maybe not just the baby, but definitely not without thought. Sick pleasure always had to be involved with Ilya, he assumed.

He really hoped he couldn’t get pregnant. He’d never tried, obviously, but he knew that some people just couldn’t. And being intersex? That had to up the chances, right? 

“Write, милая,” Ilya told him. “If you finish before too late, I can get it in mail still today.” 

Shane perked up at that, knowing he’d feel better the second it was in the mail. Feeling like he could actually speak to them, hopeful it wouldn’t be the last time. 

It took a bit of drafting in his head, but he finally got a letter he felt good about out of it. 

Dear Mom and Dad, 

I know me going off the grid was a bit last-minute, but if I’m honest, I’ve been thinking of it for a while. Things have been hard since the crash, and I know you know that, and I know you did your best to help, but what I really need most of all at this point is to spend some time alone, healing, and trying to make amends with the mess I’ve made of my life. 

Please take the distance personally. When things first happened, the idea of handling it alone would have been debilitating. I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me, not just now but my whole life. I don’t know where I’d be without you guys and your unwavering support. 

I’m hoping this won’t take too much time to sort. I miss the ice already, as well as the team and the little things I’d taken for granted. I know now more than ever life is precious and you can’t do those things. So promise not to waste time worrying about me, I don’t need it. I just need you to know I’m okay, and I love you. 

I hope I can see you soon,

Shane 

Shane swallowed, really meaning every word he said from the bottom of his heart. Even beyond what they might interpret it. He couldn’t cry; there were so many tears, and each one was a sign of Ilya’s power, but he did swallow down a knot in his throat he couldn’t shake when he handed it over. 

Ilya read over it and approved. Shane was glad. Ilya was even more glad. This was the best thing he could have done to keep people away from looking for Shane. And Shane’s fear only cemented the prettiest, most authentic words to do so with. 

“This is good,” Ilya nodded slowly. 

“So you’ll mail it?” Shane asked, breath held with the threat of the rug being pulled out under him, staying in his mind. 

“I will take it to mailbox right now, my love,” He told him, leaning down to kiss him on the top of the forehead. 

Shane flinched at the kiss, but Ilya didn’t reprimand him for it. He was only having an honest reaction, not one that had cause to fight him. And besides, it would be cute while it lasted. Because soon, Ilya was sure, Shane would grow to love his kisses. 

A fond look is sent Shane’s way as he walks backwards to the door, unable to take his eyes off his lovely new wife. 

“Don’t go anywhere,” He jokes, as if Shane even could. 

Shane sat on the bed and looked at what he had. The magazines were it. He had no idea when Ilya would be back, so he figured that maybe they were better than nothing. 

He opened the first one and checked over the glossary of its shiny pages. Who wore it best, and Sex tips, and all sorts of celebrity gossip riddle its pages. What would he do with that garbage? It’s not like any of the pages on any of the magazines would have hockey stats or interviews. That's what he liked to read. 

The closest thing he can find to anything interesting is a smoothie recipe in Women’s Health magazine that fits his diet. But when the hell is he gonna be able to make a smoothie again? And how does a smoothie help him get out of the goddamn chain he’s on? 

When Ilya returned, he was all smiles. “It is in the mail box and ready to be sent to your parents.”

Shane gave a small nod to show that he recognized what he said and then looked back down at the magazine, wondering if he could repurpose them in any way that didn’t suck. 

Ilya came over and climbed onto the bed again, right by his partner's side. “What is this?” He asked as he grabbed one of the magazines from him. 

Shane, even though he hated the magazines, felt possessive. They were his. Ilya gave them to him. He had so little, and now he was taking it back, and it made him wanna scream.

“Ilya-” 

“What? Am just borrowing, pretty girl,” He assured him. “Want to see what you are reading about, get to know you better.” 

“I wasn’t reading about anything..” Shane said, shy and subdued for the sake of his ego. To be reduced to being seen as some magazine-loving housewife made his skin crawl. 

Ilya took over the magazine and held it out in front of him. He looked down anyway, not listening to the lies that spewed from Shane’s mouth. When he looked down, he saw a picture of a woman holding a smoothie and a recipe next to it. 

“You like healthy foods, yes?” Ilya asked, already knowing the answer from his research. 

Shane nodded, unsure where it would lead. 

“Well, we have not eaten all day. If you want, I can make you this smoothie as snack before dinner time,” Ilya smiled gently at him. 

Shane hadn’t even thought about food or how hungry he was. He was in flight, fight or freeze mode, and none of them cared about getting a snack. Although now at the mention, his stomach was rumbling with need. 

Ilya heard the sound and cooed. “We will have to make sure you have lots of healthy food to keep you full, especially once you are carrying our baby.” 

“But I don’t wanna-” 

Ilya kept talking, like Shane wasn’t even trying to object. “I saw the way you love your family in your letter.” he pulled him in by the waist against his chest. “And if that is how you love your family, then I cannot wait to see how much you love our family.” 

Ilya’s hand moved right over his exposed abdomen, and Shane froze even more still than before. He wouldn’t even breathe and give him the idea of movement from his breathing. This was not his baby; there was no baby, and he wasn’t his wife. 

Ilya let go and looked at him, expecting a response. All Shane could offer was a glare.

“You are like small, angry kitten,” Ilya bemused. “Мой маленький сердитый котенок.”

Ilya’s hand settled on his chin, making Shane look at him in the eyes. He held him there, like some sort of snake charmer with fire in his eyes. Then his hand, thumb on his chin, was pulling him foreward, and he panicked again.

There was no way out, and the hand stopped him from freezing. His body said fight before his brain could tell him he’d regret it. He bit down on Ilya’s lip with his front teeth until he tasted blood and was plucked away from the attempted kiss. 

Ilya pushed him as he sputtered curse words in Russian that Shane couldn’t understand. All he understood was that the fire in his eyes had frozen over, and he was stone cold as he looked at him now. 

“Bad kitten,” Ilya spat out at him, fuming. “You take affection, and you make it violent. You take my love for granted.” 

“I don’t want your love!” Shane had the guts to say, already knee deep in his anger now. “I don’t love you!” 

“We will see…” Ilya simply stated as he walked out of the room. 

Shane at first thought he left to clean his wound, but then noticed he walked out of the room instead of using the en suite. Then some more time passed, and Shane wondered if he was making him the smoothie- afterall he left with the magazine in his hand. His magazine. 

He found himself clutching his other magazines like he’d hold onto them for dear life. He hated them, but they were his. He’d already lost one of them. And as it appeared a half hour later… he wasn’t even getting a smoothie for it. 

More time than that passed, even without a clock, Shane was sure of that. He watched as the sun set out the windows and knew he wasn’t imagining anything. And then, so much time passed that it was dark out. And he was, apparently, being left alone for the night. 

The only benefit was that he could cry himself to sleep.

Chapter Text

Shane doesn’t remember falling asleep that night. He remembers crying; the tears that never stopped falling down his fragile face. He remembers curling into a ball for some sort of warmth and comfort. He remembers closing his eyes and wishing for things, nothing specific, just lines and lines of please over and over as the sky turned as black as his eyelids. 

Waking up was weird. It was like yesterday was a million years ago, and also like it just happened. It was yesterday, right? He’d fallen so deeply into sleep that he lost his grounding on time. The lack of clocks around didn’t make it much better. 

He squinted at the sunshine from the windows. It was a lot of sunlight, but maybe he just wasn’t used to the light. Maybe it was still earlier than he thought, and that’s why he was still alone. Because he couldn’t be left alone too long… right? 

He should be craving the alone time. He should be thankful for all the time he could spend without Ilya’s hands on his skin and his eyes looking into his own eyes. But everything is messed up, and it feels like he’s been alone forever. In a way, the kind of way this torture felt like time stopping still, it was forever. 

He sat up a bit more, so he could take in the room again. It was the same as it was when he left it to drift to sleep. His magazines were folded and crunched underneath him, having fallen asleep with them in his arms like some makeshift teddybear. 

Shane was tired, but only in the kind of way you get when you wake up slowly. He was hungry. So hungry. He not only missed out on his smoothie, but Ilya never came back with anything. No dinner, no different snack, nothing. He hadn’t eaten in at least 24 hours, and it was showing in the pain in his gut. 

He was also scared and alone still. He felt like a little kid for a moment when he realized it, but this wasn’t irrational. He was in a new place, somewhere against his will, and yeah, he wanted the familiar face of someone. At this point, though, he’d take any human contact. Anything to prove he wouldn’t be left alone here to die. He… he wanted Ilya. 

He couldn’t help but feel even more like a child when he opened his mouth and found himself almost calling out to him. He’d do that when he was little and had a nightmare, call for his mom to save him, too scared to get off the bed and get taken by some monster. But who’d have thought he’d almost call for the monster to take him? 

He couldn’t call for him. It was too pathetic. But then more time passed alone, and it was making Shane’s skin burn. Being alone was like poison. The less he heard and saw, the more he feared, and the panic came back full force only ten minutes after he woke up. 

Screw it. He was crying again, and he’d just gotten up, and he just wanted the endless rain of tears to go fuck off. If it took calling out for help, then so be it. Maybe if he were really lucky, he’d call so loudly that someone else would hear. It was unlikely anyone was out in these woods, but he could dream, right? 

“Ilya?” He called out, wiping some of the tears away with his hand. It was a faint call at first, almost to test the waters. But nothing changed. 

“Ilya!” He called out between the tears, watching the door through blurry eyes as he begged. “Ilya!”

What if he didn’t care that he was calling for him? What if the punishment wasn’t done? What if he thought he was such a bad girl that he should be left to rot there? 

 No. No, no, no, no. Ilya couldn’t leave him here. It was one bite… Did that really mean he’d have to be thrown aside and discarded? He’d take it back if he could just feel less like he was halfway buried in his own grave alive. 

“Ilya!” He continued to sob, calling as loud as he could, not caring if his throat burned or if his pride had been shot dead. He couldn’t breathe at this point. Not without Ilya- or at least without whoever he could get. It just happened to be him. 

He rattled at his ankle chain and continued to wait and sob when the door opened, and he saw a flash of blonde curls in the doorway. He collapsed in on himself, sobbing still, this time in relief. 

He was still doomed, but this meant there was hope. There was still a game to play. One he wouldn’t make a move in again unless he was sure he could win. The alternative? The fear alone? It was too much to play with. 

“What is wrong?” Ilya asked as he approached the bed, fast on his feet in worry. 

He never expected to have Shane call for him, at least not unless they were fully in the relationship and it was just to locate him in the home or something. This was his sweet girl, sobbing out his name like she couldn’t breathe another second without him. 

The punishment worked. Better than he expected. It was worth sleeping alone in the guest room if it meant she’d come to rely on him this much, this early. Shane was prone to panic, so maybe he should have seen it coming, but he didn’t wanna get his hopes up. 

Ilya sat on the bed next to him and started to stroke his hair as he shushed him calmly. He didn’t wanna see him cry anymore. All was paid for, and all was forgiven. Now he just wanted to make him feel as warm and calm as the sunshine over the horizon was through the windows. 

He pictured when Shane’s hair would be longer, getting to do this with it, and maybe even brushing through it like a porcelain doll. 

“Shane, you are okay,” He told him. “I am right here.” 

Shane continued to cry, but his hand reached out for Ilya and grabbed his legs hard enough to leave bruises. It wasn’t an attack; it was a plea. He needed him to not disappear the way the rest of his world did. 

Ilya did the only thing he thought could help him and pulled Shane even closer to him, until the boy was in his lap, curled up like a little cat in a bed. He continued to run his hand through her hair and rub her back, hoping to even her breathing and calm him. 

Eventually, he calmed him enough that he was starting to breathe again, only a few hiccups here and there. He imagined doing this same thing one day with their child and smiled to himself. They would be something special. 

Shane opened his eyes and caught the smile on his face. Was this a sign to not fear him, or the sign an animal gives you before they devour you? He backed up like being in Ilya’s lap had just sucker punched his gut and scared him off. 

“Shane, baby,” Ilya cooed, as he watched him back away a bit. “I thought you wanted me here.” 

“I-” Shane didn’t know how to answer that. 

“I can go if it is easier-” 

“No.” Shane cried out, quickly as he reached for him again- this time his forearm. 

Ilya smiled. He knew he’d never want him to leave so soon after he showed up. So soon after, he dried his eyes and brought him back down to Earth. It’d all be for nothing if so. He just wanted to see him admit he had a need. 

“I will stay then,” He assured him. “I will give you everything and anything you need, angel.” 

Shane sniffed as he took a second to calm down. He called for Ilya, and Ilya came back. He wasn’t going to leave again, not right now, and not if he could just be good. 

“I-I-” Shane still struggled with forming his words. 

“You what?” Ilya asked patiently. 

Shane took a big breath and realized it wasn’t just about pride. He was scared to speak. To ask. To do the wrong thing again so soon. 

He looked at Ilya, so unsure his patience would last, and broke down again. 

Ilya let him get it out, rubbing his back again as he spoke in soft Russian. Shane didn’t know what he was saying, but the tone spoke volumes. He was coaxing him out. Trying to get him to speak. To not be so terrified of his intentions. Afterall, what’s so scary about being adored? 

Ilya bent down to right where he’d been rubbing Shane’s soft and perfect skin and placed a kiss there. Claiming and calming. Sweet enough to take over any burning rage that he was sure Shane would normally associate with a kiss from him. At least at this stage. 

“If you want something, just ask me, милая. I cannot read your mind.” 

Shane pulled his head up, and Ilya saw how much of a mess he’d made of himself again. He reached over to the tissue box on the side table and handed one to Shane, patiently waiting for him to speak after. 

Shane blew his nose and wiped his eyes before meeting Ilya’s again. Something in him just snapped, and all he could do was beg. 

“I’m hungry, I’m so, so hungry, and I’m still all dirty and sticky, and the bed is a mess, and being alone was-was scary because I thought you were going to leave me here to die and-” 

“Whoa,” Ilya stopped him, taking his hands and forcing him to keep his eyes on him as he spoke true words. “I will never hurt you, let alone kill you.” 

“But you- yesterday you hurt-” 

Ilya’s face fell into understanding and finished the struggle for him. “Shane, spanks are how I discipline you, but actual hurt? Like I would ever kill my милая жена? No, never, you are safe, and you are in my care now. Whatever is best for you, even if it’s hard, okay?” 

Shane just stared at him. 

“I know it also hurt to be alone, but that had to happen, to show you that you do not want to hurt me either,” He explained. “It was not fun for me, I did not get to hold you and kiss you all night.” 

Shane’s blood ran hot at the idea of his alternative ending to his night. Either smothered or abandoned. No in between it seemed. He wasn’t sure which was worse. 

Ilya took the shiver that went through the boy as being cold and reached his hands back out to rub his shoulders. 

“We will start with warm shower, okay?” He told, not really asking. “Then we will change the sheets and get breakfast, and it will all be okay again, alright?” 

“Alright…” Shane agreed, half-spaced out. 

“Do you trust me when I tell you that?” 

Shane’s stomach dropped. He wanted to trust that. For his own sake. But did he? He didn’t know. 

And was it better to lie and say he trusted him or be honest? Would not trusting him be considered a punishable offense? He couldn’t go any longer like this; he needed to shower, to eat, to feel human in the smallest of ways. He couldn’t risk it. 

Maybe right now, this was a sign. A chance to say he trusted him and prove it. Even if he didn’t. Because what Ilya didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, would it? If anything, he’d be thrilled. And Shane could get what he needed while he was at it, even if it came with bad things too. 

He had to commit. So with a tear in his eye, he nodded. “I trust you.” 

Ilya smiled. Shan e couldn’t tell if he bought it or not, but regardless, it did seem to be the answer he wanted from him. 

“Good,” He told him, moving to kiss his head. “Will start our shower.” 

Shane sighed, happy to see him walk over to the en suite and get started on the shower he’d been dreaming about-

Wait. 

Did he just say our shower?!

Chapter Text

“Ilya…” Shane spoke gently, watching as Ilya undid the cuff against his ankle and using it as an excuse to not look him in the eyes. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” Ilya asked as he undid the cuff with one snap of the metal, key in the lock, and then back in his pocket, where he kept it safe from Shane or simply just disappearing and leaving his lover chained to the bed, even when he needed him nearer. 

“I think it’s really sweet you wanna help me with my-my shower,” He emphasized the way he said ‘my’ shower as he faked up a smile for the show. “But I don’t think it’s necessary if you have other things you need to do.” 

“Nonsense,” Ilya responded, hands still on his ankle, rubbing around where the metal pressed into it for hours on end, making it feel better as much as Shane would hate to admit it. “My shower is complicated anyway.” 

“I’m sure I could figure it out.” He continued to push, hoping he wasn’t too obvious about it. Let alone defiant enough to get punished again because of it. “I’m smart like that.” 

Ilya smiled at him like he was just precious. 

“Shane,” He spoke down to him, hand falling off his body and going to his side. “I want to shower with you. Now stop pretending you don’t want to shower with me, too.” 

“I-” Shane opened his mouth just as quickly as he closed it. 

Ilya’s eyes spoke for him. The conversation, the negotiation, whatever you wanted to call it, was over. He had no say. No power. And not even a semblance of dignity when he was claiming his positions for himself. 

It was basically a warning, but before he could fear it too much, he was being tapped on the hip. 

“Up, my love,” He told her as he stood himself. “The shower is perfect temperature for us.” 

‘For me.’ Shane spoke in his head, refusing to claim he shared anything with this man. They didn’t share morals, they didn’t share lives, they didn’t share anything that mattered. He was there, sure, forcing his way in. But he couldn’t claim it as theirs, at least not in a way Shane wouldn’t fight against. 

Shane stood up out of the bed for the first time that day, trusting his legs were going to carry him. If he had any doubt, though, Ilya was forcing his hand in Shane’s. They were both men, no matter what Ilya said, but Shane felt small in his hold. Not even like a girl, but sometimes like a goddamn child who needed someone to make choices for them. Something he hadn’t needed since he really was a kid. 

The pair walked into the en suite, and Shane got a second good look at it. It was almost all white with subway tiles on the backsplash and a huge counter with two sinks. There was a waterfall shower and a jacuzzi tub, and even a towel warmer in the corner. 

The bathroom was nicer than his own at home, and he figured he’d enjoy it in another life. Or even if he could just be alone for five minutes in it. He was still desperate for that, no matter how hard Ilya pushed back against it. 

“Wait!” Shane stopped halfway to the running shower, the droplets on the glass already calling to him. 

“What is it?” Ilya looked concerned. 

“I…I have to pee,” Shane said, not even lying about it. “So could you-” 

“Shane,” Ilya grabbed his other hand, forcing him to face him. “You know that’s not how we do things… at least not right now.” 

“Okay, but I think I’d just feel better if I could be alone,” He dared use some honesty on the man, hopeful he’d see the humanity in him and see it back in himself. But maybe there was no humanity left in him to even find.

“Why would you feel better?” The man frowned. 

“Well, I mean-” Shane scoffed, fidgeting in his place a bit, the toilet so close he was ansty for it. “It’s just… embarrassing.” 

“Baby, you have no need to be embarrassed,” Ilya kissed his lips, soft and assuring. “There is nothing to worry about.” 

Shane’s stomach dropped for what could have been the hundredth time that day; he wasn’t counting. This was it then. The new normal. As if he’d ever find any of this normal. 

One last attempt at manipulating him. 

“You don’t trust me?” Shane pouted. 

Ilya didn’t seem to be saddened by the accusation; he just seemed to laugh, low and lightly, about it. He kissed his lips again, then again, and again. Adoring the way he tried so hard and failed. 

“I love you so much,” Ilya told him, a flip switching from his simple smile to a far more serious look. “But I do not trust you for a single moment, малышка.” 

Ilya stepped back and motioned that if he wanted to use the bathroom, he had better do it now. There was no more stalling. No more patience. No more playing with the mouse he trapped, only directing it. 

Shane swallowed as he went back over to the toilet and grit his teeth as he forced himself to sit down once again. It felt like it lasted forever, being watched and being reduced down so much while doing so. But eventually, it ended. 

Ilya’s hands were back on his skin as he guided him into the shower first. It was hot, but not too hot. Just hot enough to let the steam fill his senses and the water to turn his skin a faint bit redder than normal. 

If this was the temperature Ilya liked, he’d have to get used to that. There was no room for his opinion. Not when Ilya decided he knew best. 

Ilya followed in behind him and shut the glass. All Shane could hear was the droplets of water all around them and the sound of Ilya breathing like he was about to pounce on him. Shane couldn’t help but back up, all the way against the wall, as he looked at how dark his eyes were. 

“Ilya-” 

Before he could speak more, he was cornered. A hand on either side of his body, boxing him in. His own breathing picked up with it. He knew he was trapped, but this just brought it to his face and smothered him in it. He closed his eyes and waited for him to say or do something he couldn’t stop. 

After a little while, though, Ilya said nothing. He opened his eyes just to see him looking at him. Unreadable. 

“What is it?” Shane asked, a bit scared. 

A part of him was still convinced Ilya would come to his senses, but instead of realizing this was crazy, he’d just realize Shane was the wrong target. That he’d just let him die here, discarded and humiliated, where nobody would know the truth. Was this happening now? Was he looking him over and seeing what Shane saw? That he wasn’t some wife or mom. He was a hockey player. His rival. 

“You just look so pretty like this,” Ilya shared, leaning in against his hold on the wall to nip at Shane’s neck, peppering kisses in between bites. 

Shane hummed, but not the kind of hum that comes with melting. He was stiff under each touch to him, and he only felt more trapped. He could push back, but he knew that wasn’t a good idea right now. When was it ever? He’d be forced to just take it, time and time again, until he actually grew some balls and stood up for himself without a care for what Ilya does in retaliation. 

Ilya’s hands moved as he placed them delicately over Shane’s pecs. He squeezed the muscles as he moaned into his neck, waiting for the same kind of response. He continued searching for it as he moved his hands lower, over his abs, over his hips, and then over his cage, grabbing it in the possessive way he liked. 

Shane hated that he could only feel the hold, not how tight it was. Showed just how caged he truly was. He hated the cage most of all, he thought, just knowing what it symbolized and knowing Ilya had been the one to place it there. 

As if he could hear his thoughts, Ilya leaned into his ear and asked him, “You want me to remove this?” 

The first thing that got Shane’s attention in a positive light, and Ilya didn’t care what it was. If it was offering to take off the cage for a bit, then so be it. He was being good… mostly. And he wanted him clean afterall. Why not let him think this was only for him? 

Shane gasped before he started nodding against him. Desperate for that. How could he not be? It was just another piece of freedom, however long he got to keep it for. His dick would be his again, even if he wasn’t planning on using it for much right now. 

“What was that?” Ilya teased, making him speak for it. 

“Yes,” He said. “Please.” 

How could he say no to his wife who sounded like sugar and looked like a God? He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. In fact, he was quite sure there was nothing he wouldn’t give her if she just gave her heart to him first. 

That seemed to be a while away, though, and he was still giving in. What he’d do for love like Shane’s, he was helpless to it. He truly did, even in between the places he snapped, love this man already. He was his. 

Ilya dropped to his knees right there in the shower and worked with his hands to take the cage off. Shane didn’t do anything, scared to spook the man out of such a kind offer. Once it was off, though, he did let his head fall back against the shower tiles and close his eyes. He could pretend it was normal for a second. Until he couldn’t, and a mouth was kissing his head. 

Shane gasped, a hand moving down as if to stop it, but not finding anywhere where he could do so. The open-mouthed kiss was sending tingles down his senses and making his vaginal walls pulse with need. 

Ilya pulled off and hummed, looking up at a wide-eyed Hollander. “Is cute.” 

“What?” His brow furrowed. 

“Is like little baby penis,” He smiled. “Or maybe it’s just a really big clitoris.” 

“It’s a dick!” Shane defended himself, standing there, on display to see. 

He was always very clear about it, no matter what anyone else said about his ‘small penis’. He was clear to himself that he was a man, and that it was his penis, no matter how else someone else might look at his underdeveloped genitalia. 

Shane didn’t know a lot about the inside of his body; if he could even carry Ilya’s baby, but he did know about the outside. He knew he had a vagina, even if he hated it and ignored it at all costs. He knew the vagina was more developed than the penis, despite him presenting male his whole life. And he knew no matter what, that was his dick, and it validated him, no matter what size or state it was in. 

To say Ilya struck a nerve was an understatement. 

“Is it now?” Ilya seemed to love to tease him. 

“You can try and make me into some little wife, but you can’t take away the fact I’m not like other girls you’ve been with, that I’m not even really a girl.” 

Ilya hummed in understanding. “You’re intersex.” 

“I’m still a man.”

“Men do not weep from their pussy’s to be fucked though, do they?” Ilya looked up at him still, watching how he reacted to everything he said and did. 

“You think that’s what’s happening right now?” Shane challenged him a bit, breathing heavy. 

Ilya looked away from him and back down at the scene within his eyesight. His small penis was fascinating to Ilya. He’d been with many men and many women, but nobody like this. 

He pressed his mouth back to what he’d only ever refer to as his clit from this point forward and sucked at it until he swore it’d go raw. He heard Shane stifling noises above him, but he was pleased to know he even had to make an effort against it. Loving him would take time, but wanting his body? That was just natural. 

“See,” Ilya spoke as he moved back against him. 

“See what?” 

Ilya smiled and moved his hand up to his underside, falling between his folds again and picking up some of the slick he’d left there from all the stimulation on his front. 

“I told you your pussy weeps for me,” He cockily told him. 

Shane wasn’t dumb. He knew that whether he wanted it or not, his body wouldn’t know the difference. That it would prepare him for whatever he wanted and more with slick discharge. But that didn’t mean he had to claim it as a sign of true desire for the man. 

“That’s just water…” Shane tried to convince him. “We’re in a shower.” 

“We’re in the corner of the shower, Shane, but fine,” He got up off his knees, back to being face to face with his sweet prey. “Why don’t you taste it and tell me what it is?” 

“I’m not-” 

While he had the chance to press into his open mouth, he took it. Two whole strong fingers covered in his own fluids. 

“Suck, kitten,” He commanded him, only pushing further into his mouth before he took the fingers and sucked. Ilya would have pushed him to gag if he had to, but Shane seemed to want to do this the easy way. Or at least the easiest after he started acting like a brat again. 

“Taste that?” Ilya asked, happy as could be as he watched the boy break with each little suckle against his hands. “That is the taste of your wanting me.” 

Ilya took his fingers out and instead of rubbing them off on his skin, placed them in his own mouth to suck. A mix of his wife's slick and spit, perfection to him, made Shane cringe, and Ilya's heart sing.

“We’re both familiar with it now,” Ilya told him, eyes sparkling, peering down at him, close enough to bite again if he so wanted to. “So why don’t you just give in and let yourself have what you want?”

Chapter Text

Shane froze, unsure how to respond to that. 

He wasn’t stupid. He felt the slick on the inside of him, he tasted his own arousal in his mouth, and he knew it. Ilya knew it too. 

Sure, he had no real say, it was all his cli- dick’s doing. But he didn’t have to think it was fair. That it was right. Be forced to admit it was real to anyone until Ilya was basically demanding that he give him just that. 

The first time Ilya took him, it was without any mouth on him. With the cage. Without even reaching a climax. He justified it to himself, told himself that it wasn’t just the cage, it was the everything. It was the fact that Ilya was forcing himself on him, and he’d never ever cum over that. 

But with his cock cage discarded and the knowledge of Ilya’s mouth on his core? He hardly felt like he could stand up straight for the small time he’d taken over him. How could he go without cumming if he pushed him to the hilt without care? 

He didn’t want this, he didn’t wanna cum at his hands. Maybe in the past, he’d have said differently. Maybe he’d have thought the fantasy of hate fucking his rival with the pretty curls and the rock-hard abs was hot, but that was ruined the day Ilya got ruined. And now he was stuck, knowing what he wanted was far different from what his body could comprehend. 

He wanted to strangle his cock so he could never cum. He wanted to strangle Ilya so he could never force him to. But those weren’t options. 

Suddenly, he’d become aware of the thing around his own neck again. The collar he’d almost forgotten was uncomfortable to say the least, in the shower. 

He tugged at it and pleaded, “Off.” He had hopes that if he was nice enough about the cage, he’d be nice enough about this. Maybe even forget what they started with this. 

“Off?” Ilya heard him, but questioned his soft demand. 

Shane nodded, the look in his eyes like he was lost. 

Ilya had wanted him to talk, so while he’d have preferred a please, why not spoil his wife a bit? This was technically their honeymoon, I mean, wasn’t it? 

“I will take this off,” Ilya told him as he moved his hands up to the collar. “But then you will get me off.” 

Shane froze as hands tangled around his neck, looking for the right way to take the wet, pink leather off of him. Shane hoped it was ruined, but he didn’t put it past Ilya to have a million replacements or a weatherproof finish on it. 

He still couldn’t find words. He wouldn’t admit he wanted it because he didn’t. He could make him cum, his dick in his hole and his hand on his dick like a weapon, but he couldn’t make him want something he didn’t want. 

He could probably lie about it, the way he’d lied when Ilya made him beg for his babies, but his mind was too clear right now to accept such a fate. 

“Shane,” Ilya called his attention. “I am being good to you, taking all these things off of you, aren’t I?” 

That was a bit easier to stomach. “Yes.” 

“Then you need to be good for me, too,” Ilya said. “No fussing or biting or pulling away, just your mouth on my cock and my cock in your cunt.” 

Shane shivered, feeling cold despite the steam. 

“Can you do that for daddy?” 

That name again. No doubt to further humiliate and demean him. Make him feel more feminine than ever. Punish him, because no matter what Ilya said, Shane didn’t believe, at least deep down, that this wasn’t all just a punishment for what he’d done to his family. 

“My Shane,” Ilya’s breath caught when he saw Shane’s eyes darken. He took a hand and moved it to frame his chin, thumb on his lips. “Can you do that for me?” 

Shane sucked Ilya’s thumb into his mouth and lapped at it. It was the best way he could be good and not have to open his mouth any further. He didn’t need to speak when his tongue spoke for itself. He nodded just to be sure he wasn’t pushed further, and was thankful he could always tell himself he never said yes.

Ilya’s other hand came up to grab at Shane’s throat, pressing his thumb into his windpipe and making the other boy gasp. 

He loved power, and he loved control, but what he love most of all was what it could give him. The noises Shane made would be precious whether he forced them to come out or not. All his mind could search for was getting more of them. More of Shane. Pretty, pretty Shane. 

He pulled the boy off his thumb and wiped it on his hairline as he pushed him down on his knees. 

“Is the floor too painful?” Ilya asked him, with actual care. 

Shane could have said it was. He, in hindsight, should have lied and said it was. But it wasn’t, and all he could think of was getting out of this alive. If it appeared eager, he’d deny it, but he took Ilya into his mouth with fervor. 

Ilya moaned and held onto his hair, back rolling against the waterfall’s stream that washed around them. It slicked down his back, and he wondered if Shane was dripping as well, just from the head of his cock in his mouth. 

Shane didn’t spend too long on just the head, willing himself to take more of the giant cock he’d found himself set on swallowing for him. To be good for him was one thing, but to be good enough was another. The lines of which blurred as he took half the cock into his mouth and felt himself stretching on it. 

So fucking small compared to him. His mouth was too small to take it without hurting. His hands were too small to hold all of his juicy muscles at once. His own cock was too small to even be considered in comparison. If it hadn’t already been inside of him, he’d be convinced his cunt was too small for this beast of a man to take too.

He pushed himself, fast and firm, taking the rest of his cock in his mouth properly, even as he gagged a bit on it. He’d never had cock in his mouth, though he dreamed of it. This wasn’t what he dreamed of, but the feeling? The feeling was the same. Burning in his core and making him feel so full he could die here with it, knowing he did his part. 

Ilya was moaning, coaxing him on to continue. “Good girl,” He praised. “You are sure this is first time?” 

Shane couldn’t help but moan a bit at the praise, always loving to impress people. 

“Yes, my girl is just natural at it,” Ilya cursed between his praises as they continued to roll off his hot and heavy tongue. “Born to suck your husband’s cock.” 

Shane gagged a bit more on the cock before he was being peeled off. For a second, he worried he had done something wrong, but then he realized he shouldn’t care beyond punishment.

He then dared to hope his own cock would get more of that attention from Ilya’s mouth, but there was no such thing coming his way as he was shoved against the other side of the shower, further under the rainfall of the overhead shower. 

Shane was being mandhandled againa nd before he could even process it, his hips were being lifted, and his legs were being placed up on the corner ledge of the shower. Ilya wasted no time between the showers, water, and the natural lube Shane produced, pushing into him. 

Maybe Shane didn’t know this, but Ilya didn’t just want to get him pregnant this time. He wanted him to come too. The cage coming off was to help that, not some small gift for good behavior. If he came, there was a better chance of getting pregnant. Not to mention that he could show him exactly what he was keeping from him once he locked it all back up. 

The first punch into his guts, from the angle, drove Shane mad. It was like it was hitting his clit all the way from the inside, the perfect way to make his lifted knee weak. It was just good. Ilya was holding him up with his hands. 

The next punch was hardly registered until Ilya was just going and going at him, like an animal. Shane could hardly breathe or feel anything beyond the throbbing of his own desire, twisting him up inside. He wanted to cum so bad. Was he allowed to? 

“Please,” Shane simply said, wanting to feel good and wanting to be done with this. 

“Please, what?” Ilya groaned. 

“Please let me cum, please let me- ah, I can take it.” 

“Oh, you’ve been taking it so good, I know,” Ilya said happily as he reached one hand around to play with Sahne’s little clit. “Can you take this too?” 

Shane cried, not giving a yes or no, just knowing it was a lot. He was outside of his head, gone were the fears, and now he was just a slut in the shower who wanted to get off. 

“I’ll take it all, just please, been so good,” He cried. 

He realized quickly that Ilya wasn’t going to let him cum if he couldn’t enjoy it with him. He bit his lip and swallowed his pride as he pushed back and met his thrusts like he was a participant and not just a pliant being. 

He knew that to push him over the edge, he needed to really give him more. A show of sorts. One where the lines would haunt his dreams as he remembered saying them just for a semblance of passion. 

“Been good for you, been a good little wife-” 

Shane didn’t even have to finish the line he’d cooked up as Ilya was cumming into his hot cunt instantly with it. It sent Shane over the edge, and for a few moments, they were just a sweaty, wet pile of moans. 

“Fuck,” Ilya said, head resting on Shane’s back. “Was that as good for you as it was for me?” 

Shane could only really stomach a hum of false agreement as he came down from it all feeling sickly, sticky, and used. Like he betrayed himself for even trying to get through it. That cumming was only going to make this all worse in the long term, no matter how good it felt short-term.

Ilya moved his head to the side and kissed his spine. “I think we made baby for sure this time,” he told him, elated in the way he sounded. 

Shane prayed he was wrong and yet wondered what came next. Should he be scared again? Should he be worried about being aroused again? Was he safe now that he’d given Ilya what he wanted, or would he want to take even more? 

Ilya moved him back so he was directly under the spray and kissed his shoulder. 

“Relax now,” He told her. “I will clean us up.” 

“I can-” Shane started before he was shushed. 

He forgot it didn’t matter what he could do. Because he couldn’t do anything without Ilya’s permission. And clearly, Ilya wanted to bathe him in the warm, homely shower they shared. 

At first, Shane was stiff, but eventually his body started to melt, and he zoned out. There was no fear in the moment, no matter how close he was to the monster. Because he knew he only wanted to wash his hair and clean up the mess he made on his freckled skin. 

How could he feel so safe and so in danger? How could he want nothing to do with him and then clench around his cock like he was starving? How could he be good enough to get opportunities and actually use them? 

He’d worry about those another time, he figured, as he was sent away to the sound of soft Russian and the feeling of strawberry shampoo massaged gently into his scalp.

Chapter Text

The shower eventually ended in a cloud of more smoke and a mix of smells Shane wasn’t used to. His soap at home was scentless, simple, not complex. The soap here was fruity and floral- at least for him. Ilya, on the otherhand cleaned himself with a mix of leather and patchouli scents, way more manly. Just another way to separate and feminize him, he was sure. 

Shane was such a control freak, but of all the things to finally make him crack, it had to be soap that drew the last straw. He really had no decisions, let alone full control. 

Shane panicked for a while, quietly, trying not to make much of a fuss. Luckily for him, Ilya just assumed it was because he was busy putting him back in chastity and a collar. That distressed him too, but he couldn’t even focus on it in that second. What would happen next if he had no choices? And how long until he wasn’t even himself anymore because of it?

The collar said he was Ilya’s good girl. The cage said he was owned. Surely what came next was that Shane disappeared altogether. And he couldn’t let that happen. 

He tried to be nice. Tried to be Canada’s golden boy. But karma didn’t care. One freak accident, and he was being punished worse than anyone else he’d ever known. This wasn’t just life and death. It was dignity and pride. 

Ilya finished towel drying him off, scruffing up his hair, and getting all of the skin back to its smooth and dry nature. Then he moved over to the large counters and specifically reached towards the sink on the left. Shane, looking at it, could assume that one was set up for her.

His hands found what they were looking for quickly and returned with a bottle of lotion. He smiled at Shane, holding it up for him to see. 

“The lady at the store said my wife would like this one best,” He explained as he popped the cap of it. “I told her price was no concern, to just give me the best. Only the best for the best, right?” 

Shane was glad he was rhetorical with the question. He was glad he didn’t offer to put lotion on him. Being controlled was awful, but at least it wasn’t his fault. None of this was his fault. He’d stand by that forever. Ilya was the sick one, the fucked up one, the one who justified it to himself and nobody else. That’s why it was a secret, right? Because who in their right mind would ever approve of such an action?

Wives weren’t something you could just replace. And babies weren’t interchangeable either. Shane always assumed if he found someone he loved, whether it be a man or a woman, he’d love them, not the idea of them. That replacing them would be painful. But Ilya? Ilya acted like there was no difference. He loved Shane just like the best husbands loved their wives. Maybe even more so. 

Ilya looked up at him as he rubbed the lotion into his legs. “Something on your mind, sweetheart?” 

There was both everything and nothing on his mind. But he couldn’t say that. Couldn’t say the truth. Couldn’t scream how much he hated him. 

“Oh…I guess I just zoned out.” Shane supplied. 

Ilya seemed to buy it, continuing to rub the lotion in like a lowly servant who worshiped Shane. “It feels good,да?” 

Shane nodded, hating that it wasn’t totally a lie. He didn’t always like being touched, but this felt… nice. Noncommittal and just necessary. He hated who was doing it far more than he hated the action of hydrating his skin. 

“I know you are probably worried about this…” Ilya rubbed a hand over his leg, and Shane was almost confused about what he was talking about, until he looked down and realized. His hair. “But do not worry, that is what they made laser treatment for.” 

Ilya seemed to be talking about it like it was just another appointment to be made for him. Like he was some project that needed to be tuned, piece by piece. 

Shane should be belligerent about his body hair being taken from him, and he was deep down, but on the surface? All he heard was an appointment. 

Could he be naive enough to think that meant he would leave these four walls? Leave this house? If Ilya let him do that, then… possibilities for escape opened up. Over time, the possibilities could be endless. His breath caught at the idea alone. 

He had to play it cool, though, if he was meant to get more information. 

He decided he’d play it up a little bit longer today until he could ask him about it. Find a time when he seemed to be most smitten with her and strike. 

Ilya finished using the lotion on him and looked back at Shane like he was a work of art. Shane was going to be good, so he quickly spoke up afterwards. 

“Thank you,” Shane simply spoke. 

Ilya didn’t seem to be expecting it, but he didn’t complain. He moved closer to him and pulled him in by the neck to kiss him on the forehead. 

“You’re welcome.” 

You’re welcome was only a few steps away from Good girl. He decided, as much as he hated it, if he got that from him, that’d be his sign to strike. 

Ilya took his hand and guided him into the bedroom again. A quickly familiar place for Shane. But what shocked him was that he wasn’t brought right back to his chain. 

“Ilya?” He looked up from them to the man, unsure as he spoke. 

Ilya loved to see that his wife was already so integrated into the routine, but routines for Ilya were flexible. He wasn’t the control freak Shane was, even if he had all the power in the room. And he wanted to give him an opportunity before he chained him back up. 

“You said you wanted new sheets, right?” Ilya asked him, stark naked as Shane. 

Shane looked back at the bed and remembered how dirty they’d- how dirty Ilya - had gotten them. He was so clean now, even if he was basically bathed and dried like a babe. He didn’t wanna go back to the grim and familiar hardness of dried cum on satin. 

“I do,” Shane told him. 

Shane only dared to look at the door when Ilya turned around. He couldn’t run right now. Where would he even run to? Could he even outrun Ilya? There was no part of him that saw it working out well, but he had to at least look. 

Ilya turned back around from where he had taken a short stroll to grab the new sheets he kept in a side closet. The same sheets, just clean. 

“Do you want to make the bed?” He asked him. 

“M-me?” Shane pointed at himself, not sure he was registering it right. 

Ilya shrugged. “You’ll do it plenty in the future, why not start now?” 

Shane actually seemed to crack a shocked smile at this, and Ilya was pleased. Give the captive some sense of power, make them feel they can get more, and then never give them enough to actually leave your side. It helped with the tantrums, he was sure. It was already putting a smile on his lovely Shane’s face afterall. 

Shane fell for it, instantly. Thinking if he could get this done well, then it could be his job. And if it was his job, then he’d have every so often a chance to be free in the room. A chance to escape surely followed… right? 

This might have been the most hopeful he’d felt yet. 

“I’d love to,” He told him, taking the sheets from him. 

“Do you need help?” 

“No!” Shane assured him. “I’m good at this kind of thing.” 

“I thought you were good at hockey,” Ilya joked with an upturned smile, prepared to watch his wife make their bed. 

Shane offered him a small laugh, but he wasn’t sure if it was just to butter him up or not. Oh well. One day, he’d be sure of it, and it’d mean they were finally happy. At least Shane. Ilya was already happy. 

Shane started to move the two sheets apart to see a fitted sheet and a flat sheet over top. It was probably what Ilya preferred, so he wouldn’t argue it. He moved the flat sheet to the table next to the bed and began unfolding the fitted sheet. 

He was aware Ilya was watching him, and it only made the positions he had to get into to get the fitted sheet on more humiliating than he imagined. His asshole was on full display just from bending over to reach, let alone how much you could see of his pussy from the back when his whole body went forward. 

This was something Ilya knew to expect and enjoy. It was something Shane breathed through and told himself would be worth it if he could work through this up to his master plan. 

The fitted sheet was placed on, only a little fervor used to get it there, and Shane was proud he could show a bit of his worth, even if it was a demeaning task that almost anyone could do. 

Ilya approached the bed with the other sheet, not wanting to make his girl need to reach for it when she could instead always just rely on him. 

“Thanks,” Shane said as he took it. 

“You are so welcome,” Ilya cooed. “You are being very good wife, very good girl.” 

Good girl. 

Bingo. 

He shook it off and cleared his throat as he opened the flat sheet up and draped it over the bed. 

“Ilya?” He asked, voice small but still heard. 

“Yes, my love?”

“Do you think my parents got my letter by now?” He asked him, using it as a segway to seem natural, even though he knew there was no way they got it this quickly. Let Ilya think he was a dumb little wife. It’ll only make him underestimate him in the long run.

“No, but I’m sure they will get it soon,” Ilya gave his honest opinion as he watched the curves of Shane’s ass as it faced him. “Why?”

“I was just thinking about them, about everything I told them.” 

“You did not tell them much,” Ilya huffed. “You did not even mention we were married.” 

Shane turned to look at him, make sure he wasn’t genuinely offended. His mouth curved up, and he knew he was still safe to push him. For now. 

“I just thought that was something I should tell my parents in person, you know?” Shane tested the water, waiting for a reply. 

All he got was a hum. 

“Do you… Do you think that’ll ever happen?” He asked as he smoothed the last corner of the sheet flat. 

“What?” 

“You know, seeing my parents in person?” Shane asked him, quick to add. “Not soon, I just mean, one day…” 

Shane looked at Ilya, waiting with only a little bit of pleading in his eyes. Enough to sway him, maybe, or maybe just enough to make him feel bad. 

“One day, yes,” Ilya told him. 

“Really?” Shane didn’t wanna get his hopes too high, but this made him nearly choke. A chance to see his parents… how could he ever not escape if he got that?! They’d know it was all wrong, and they’d save him. It was impossible to not to. 

“Yes, when you are good girl, I can trust, we can see them,” Ilya agreed. “On my terms, though.” 

“Of course!” Shane would agree to almost anything right now. 

“Besides, they will be valuable; they will be the grandparents to our babies.” He could picture their babies already. 

Shane stilled for a moment in the height of things. 

“Babies?” He asked him. “Like… plural?” 

“Of course,” Ilya said, a smile on his face as if he wouldn’t break down Shane into a mere baby machine for his sick picket fence fantasies. 

Shane decided he could worry about that. But then he reminded himself that he could see the light. See the tunnel to freedom. And there would be no time for babies plural, if he were fast and far away from here. 

Shane was sure Ilya had no idea what a mistake he was making if he meant it. He was probably too cocky to even think. But it didn’t matter. 

He had a plan now. Be a good girl and bust the bad guy. Not so simple, but doable. 

Shane couldn’t help it; he rushed forward and hugged Ilya. 

“Thank you,” She breathed into his ear as he held him. 

Ilya was a bit shocked to get a hug so quickly and held on tighter before Shane could take it away. She was so cute when she thought she was ahead of him. So cute when she thought there’d be an escape. 

God, he loved her. And she’d be perfect once she loved him, too. She’d get everything she asked for and still come home to him. 

That’s why he was going to keep her forever. Because she’d let him. Eventually, at least…

Chapter Text

Ilya couldn’t believe he was getting a hug from Shane. Not a forced one, not even a subtle one, but a real hug with genuine gratitude in it. 

The last hug he’d gotten was far too long ago, from Svetlana, right before she left the house… and their lives. This lacked the hair in his face and the smell of her perfume, but things were in motion. He could still fix them and mold them onto Shane. 

He loved his wife. Past and present. Why did he have to overthink why he had two in the first place? It’ll only make him mad, or even worse, make the strong Russian cry again. 

He was coping, and he was thriving. All while he had Shane in his arms. Someone who was just as beautiful on the inside as the outside. Someone he thinks was always meant to be his. Maybe even made to be his. 

Suddenly, though, the hug seemed to stiffen. It wasn’t Ilya’s doing, but Shane’s. Realizing where he was, where he’d put himself willfully. 

Shane notices the way Ilya looks at him, head cocked and questioning why he’d ever pull away from something so pure and loving, at least in his eyes. 

“I’m just sorta… hungry,” Shane admitted, not even needing to lie. “You mentioned we could eat?” 

Ilya hummed, pleased to hear the words ‘we’ on Shane’s tongue. He had promised they could eat, and frankly, even if Shane had been a naughty girl the whole time, he was past the time line for refusing food. Shane had been so good, he deserved the works. Hopefully, it could even bring fuel to their future baby. 

“I will make us breakfast, and we can eat it in bed,” Ilya told her happily. 

Shane looked behind him at the bed he just made, the idea of crumbs between the silk making his skin crawl. “What if we-Oh wait!” Shane’s own objection was interrupted as Ilya grabbed his body back over to the chain of the bed. 

“You’re fine,” He calmed Shane as he pressed him back into the mattress with his whole body, gentle as he laid him down and placed a kiss on him from where he towered over him. 

Shane’s feet dangled over the edge of the bed, and Ilya was able to easily move down his body to secure him back in. It wasn’t a punishment. It was just safety. 

Shane sat up in time to just catch Ilya’s face in the doorway, a little embarrassed and a little pouty. Had he done all of that just to get chained up again? Sure, he knew it was likely, but living it was another thing. 

“You’re fine,” Ilya repeated before blowing him a kiss and closing the door behind him. 

Shane moved up on the bed so that he could rest against the pillows, looking up at the ceiling, and wondering how many times he’d have to do this until he could get even a step closer to freedom. 

He played with the chain and imagined a day where maybe the chain was secured but never locked. He smiled at the thought and let himself hope for many other things now that he felt like he had an (eventual and loose) plan for saving himself. 

Meanwhile, Ilya moved down the windy stairs that led to the home’s kitchen and started working on a meal fit for a princess. His princess. 

He couldn’t help but think of all the interviews he’d read about Shane, talking about his diet and the foods he liked. He’d memorized almost all the ones he’d found in the hopes of getting on his good side with some of the meals he’d give him. 

Shane would take a while to be fully happy with the food, seein as Ilya was not letting a body who was going to carry his baby be malnutrition by a macrobiotic body. The baby could have anything it needed, and Shane would supply it through what Ilya served her. No questions asked, hopefully. 

He poured a glass of orange juice, high in vitamin C, into a tall glass. He knew the last time Shane had juice was probably when he was little, but it didn’t matter. He moved to the stove to make him an omelet to match it, full of all his favorite mix ins. 

He had a meal big enough for both of them on one plate. Couples liked to share afterall, right? 

He headed upstairs, what must have only been fifteen minutes after he left, and found Shane in the same bored position he was in the other day, just looking up, lost in his mind. He didn’t even hear Ilya enter. 

“Shane?” He called out, shutting the door behind him, and gaining the attention he wanted. 

“You came back,” Shane breathed out, sitting up a bit more. 

Ilya knew he was lost in his wild thoughts, but didn’t realize they turned to his wild worries until he saw Shane’s face relax at his presence. Did he still think he’d be left alone here? Ilya didn’t want that. 

“I promise I would,” Ilya shot back, making his point. 

“Yeah… I guess you did…” Shane only scooted higher up on the bed, hugging his knees to his chest and making room for where he was sure Ilya would make his home. 

Ilya placed the tray he made up on the side table and climbed into the bed next to Shane, pleased that he made room for him but wishing he was still a bit closer. Pressed to his side, maybe even with a head on his shoulder. A kiss to his cheek. 

“You are still hungry?” He asked her. 

“I’m-” Before he could announce he was practically starving, his stomach rumbled and answered for him. 

Ilya laughed, a light little laugh he’d never let anyone but the people closest to him hear. Everything about Shane enamoured him, and he supposed, even if in a different way, it always had. He was the ying to his yang on the ice afterall, ever since the draft. 

“Has anyone ever told you you are cute, малышка?” He asked, looking at Shane like he hung the stars and didn’t crasha meteorite into his life. 

Shane’s face couldn’t help but heat under the attention. “My mom used to.” 

Ilya only grew fonder. “Than she is smart woman, you are how we say, самый милый горошек в стручке.” 

Shane didn’t ask what it meant; he just gave a nervous smile and hoped he’d move on from oogling at him like a doll. Shane got it. He loved him. He was sick and twisted, and he shouldn’t love him, but he did. He felt it, trust him. He just wanted food. 

Ilya brought the tray to his lap and instantly saw Shane’s eyes and hands move to it. He picked up the fork and gently smacked Shane’s knuckles away with it. 

“Ow!” Shane said, mostly just not expecting it. 

“You are princess,” He explained. “Let me feed you.” 

Shane’s head instantly shook. “No, I can-” 

Ilya gave him the look. The look that said he didn’t need to repeat the sentiment again. What he could do and what he was allowed to do were different now. Stupid Shane for ever thinking he’d be allowed food without the threat of bringing him down to the size Ilya wanted him. 

“Fine…” Shane decided, looking down at his knees and letting Ilya take the reins. 

Much to Ilya’s excitement, or perhaps Shane’s pure hunger, he didn’t complain about how calorie-rich the meal was. Didn’t accuse him of poisoning it. Didn’t freak out and fling the plate like a spoiled brat. 

His good girl.

She took the first bite of food like he expected her to. She didn’t complain; she just chewed and swallowed, awaiting more. Shane didn’t wanna talk, so Ilya didn’t force it, but that didn’t mean he didn’t make his own little comments as he watched her. 

“You are like little baby bird,” Ilya told him with another fork full of omelet. “Precious to me.” 

Shane had never been called precious. He was a grown man who played professional hockey. The idea that Ilya said it, let alone meant it, made him feel the furthest from himself yet. He had to wonder what he’d look like from an outsider's eye, and if they’d agree. 

He just needed to eat. He hated Ilya. He hated this bed. But he couldn’t escape on an empty stomach. He reminded himself of this with every bite, forcing him to just hush every other thought and instinct to the bottom of his mind. Or at least until he swallowed it all down. 

Sometimes Shane would think he’d get a piece, and Ilya would put it in his own mouth. He wasn’t upset Ilya was eating, more that he was the one who got to pick when each of them ate. 

Would this be forever, or would this be another privilege he could earn one day? Was this even punishment, or was it pure adoration from the man? He had no clue. 

As if the man could read his mind, he spoke. 

“Sometimes I just want to spoil you,” He told her. “It’s nice to remind you who is in charge, but this isn’t about you. It’s about me. And how much I want to care for you… Both of you.” 

Shane bit his tongue so harshly that he was sure he tasted blood in his next bite. He wanted to tell him there was no both of them. That he’d rather be dead than carry any baby, let alone Ilya’s. That he was crazy if he thought Shane wanted anything to do with this dream idea that was the baby. 

Shane knew he took Ilya’s baby, but this wasn’t an eye for an eye. This was forcing someone who didn’t want it to carry a baby and risk their life. This was bringing a life onto the earth who had one crazy parent and one parent who didn’t want them. 

Shane almost tried to imagine a child for a moment, but then got too freaked out. He couldn’t even look at their imaginary baby. How the fuck would he raise it? 

He still had no idea if he could get pregnant, but the unknowing wasn’t comforting. He wanted to know he couldn’t for sure. Maybe then Ilya would find someone new. Get bored with his broken doll and buy a better, blonder Barbie. 

Shane was no prize, so why did Ilya treat him like it? He still didn’t understand any of this. If it was pure punishment, he’d succeed. But this was more. This was something that Ilya thought of as a privilege for Shane. A gift of love and life, he should welcome. 

No. Just… no. Never. 

Shane opened his mouth, and this time was met with a straw from the juice. He was getting thirsty from the food, and Ilya just seemed to sense it. The same way Shane was obsessed with hockey that he knew it inside out, Ilya had become obsessed with Shane. 

“Good girl,” He praised her for simply drinking some juice. 

Ilya moved the cup back when she was done and attached his own lips to it. A bit of Shane spit on the tip, but nothing he didn’t welcome. He sipped from it and looked back at Shane. 

“I thought you loved praise,” He commented. 

“What?” 

“Praise,” he took another quick sip of the orange juice. “You live for it between the press and the coaches and even your mom, no?” 

Shane thought about it for a second and realized he was right. But so what? 

“So?” 

“Why does my praise not do the same?” He frowned. 

Shane had a lot of ideas why it didn’t. For starters, he didn’t wanna be good for Ilya. He also wasn’t a girl. And lastly, he liked praise for real things, not drinking juice or eating off a fork that was pushed into his mouth. 

“You want the real answer?” Shane asked, being a bit bold. 

Ilya’s eyebrows perked up, and he allowed it. 

“Nothing you say makes me feel good,” He said simply, not even trying to cut him deeply. 

Ilya nodded, taking it in before he took another sip of the juice. 

“Be patient, pet,” He told Shane as he cupped her cheek. “One day, I and I alone, will make you feel as amazing and perfect as you are.” He pressed a kiss to her citrusy lips and rested on her forehead. “As loved as you are, darling.” 

Ironically, the words Ilya said had made him feel worse than the idea of those words becoming true.

Chapter Text

Being in bed with Shane, both of them nude, so close to each other, was like a magnet’s pull Ilya had never felt with anyone. It almost felt like the forbidden fruit, except he was in charge here, and the fruit was safe to devour. He wanted that. To devour Shane. 

He moved the tray back over to the side table and then scooted in close to his real meal. Shane eyed him like a hawk, looking down as Ilya found a spot he liked in the crook of his neck. And then he started to kiss him. 

He could feel Shane inhale and tense up. He could feel the way he moved his hands to brace his weight, like he was ready to shift himself away from the kisses. 

But Ilya couldn’t have that. 

He just wanted Shane to continue to be good for him. 

“No, no, no, no,” Ilya spoke into his soft, lotioned skin. “Stay here, stay close.” 

He knew he could command him to, but the idea of asking him to, and not having to play the bad guy, made butterflies start to sprout in Ilya’s stomach. It’d feel so much more real, intense, and loving, wouldn’t it? If Shane chose to let him in. 

Ilya’s hand wrapped around Shane’s waist, grabbing his flesh right where his waist met his ass and kneading it, pulling him in. Shane didn’t fight it, but he didn’t engage. Ilya wanted more. 

“Please be the good girl I know you are for me,” he exhaled along the veins in his stretched neck. “Just right now… Will give you anything you want in return.” 

That caught Shane’s attention. 

He knew, even if it was sick and twisted, he had no power here. Ilya would do whatever he wanted to him, whether he fought or laid flat. He didn’t want it… But he didn’t wanna fight either. He was tired of it. And Ilya just said he’d give him anything. 

“Anything?” Shane asked, refusing to look down at Ilya, instead looking straight ahead. 

“Yes,” Ilya kissed up to his ear, letting out a small, breathy laugh. “Within reason.” 

Always within reason, he was sure it was either with that stipulation or that he was lying. If he could have anything, he’d have a one-way ticket home. But if he could have some things? Well, there were things he could still use. Things to transfer some of the power from Ilya into Shane’s hands. 

Shane’s eyes locked on Ilya’s, and for the first time, he only listened to one part of his mind. Not the fear. Not the unwanting. Not the control he lacked. Not even the part of him that was scared, he did want it. He only listened to the part of him that said he had to be good if he wanted something from him. 

So he did what any good boy did, and smashed his lips to Ilya at his own doings. If he felt what he recongnized as a smile on Ilya’s lips, he didn’t think too deeply about it. Of course he’d smile. He was the cat, and he was getting the cream spoon fed to him. 

Ilya moved ontop of him as he licked his tongue into Shane’s mouth. He tasted like orange juice and something else he couldn’t pin point. He loved it. He lived for it. He took more and more and more of it until he felt like his mouth was one with Shane’s, whose lips for once in their life, seemed just as eager. 

Ilya bit Shane’s tongue and got him to moan. Shane didn’t try to hide it. Nothing could hide Shane now even if he tried. His clit- or sad excuse for a dick- was already hardening against Ilya’s dick, and it felt like he was floating. 

The russian ground down on him and got another pretty noise form him. It wasn’t very feminine, more like gutteral, but they’d work on it. Any noise from Shane was a gift afterall.

His hands found their place in Shane’s hair and on his thigh. He loved the differences in them. One was soft and thin, the other, hard and muscley. How things could be so different yet so equally perfect, he’d never know. 

Shane’s hands didn’t lay by his side this time. They explored. They started up in Ilya’s own hair, a carpet of curls, and then made there way down his skin unil his finger nails were prickling into his ass with a pull towards him of want. 

Ilya let out his own noises, something to praise his boy when his mouth was too full. Something to tell him yes just like that beyond the movement of their bodies like waves. 

Ilya pulled away from shane’s mouth and the boy was whining before he could even see where it was going next to worship him. He moved back to his neck, leaving kisses and bites like a promise. Each one of them had Shane whining more, grabbing bigger handfuls of his ass until they were all he could have, and breathing like he’d just run a mile. Like he wasn’t running miles and miles and miles in Ilya’s mind, 24/7. 

“Ilya…” Shane gasped out, wanting more than just a necklace of bruises to wear. 

“Yes, my love?” Ilya asked, moving back up on him a little to place kisses and sucks at his cute little earlobes. 

“M-more..” He said, simple and demanding. 

Who was Ilya to deny him that? Well.. he was his captor and husband. So… actually, pretty good. 

“Beg,” Ilya spoke straight into his ear. 

Shane’s whole body sitffened as he whined again. “Why?” 

Ilya swallowed the whining. “Don’t be a brat now, love,” he told him. “Beg for me, tell me what you want, and I’ll make it perfect for you.” 

Shane whined once more, cut off with a moan as Ilya sucked at the sensitive spot right behind his earlobe. He’d committed to this, and dammit, he wanted to stay commited for more reasons than he was willing to admit. 

All it took was one little beg? 

He could swallow that easier than all the moans he was letting go. 

“Please, Ilya-” 

“Nuh-uh,” Ilya shook his head lightly with the disapproving sound. “That’s daddy to you.” 

Another whine. Another second he needed to take before he melted into it anyway. And then the words he said, well beyond what he probably needed for a passing score. 

“Daddy, please,” Shane sighed out, head back and eyes closed in shame (or ecstasy?). “Need you in my…my tight, greedy little hole!” 

“Yes…” 

“Daddy…” 

Ilya pressed a final kiss to her lips, looking down at Shane now with a passion like never before. 

“Daddy will give you that, sweet, sweet girl.” He promised as he moved to kiss all over his face. “My good girl.”

“Your good…mmmm” The words fell off into a delighted hum from Shane, but the fact that the word was kept off it wasn’t unnoticed. 

Ilya still rewarded him by once again sticking his heavy, long, hard and leaking dick into the prettiest pussy he’d ever seen. He’d been with many women, but there was just something about this one. Maybe because it belonged to his girl… 

Ilya lined himself up with Shane’s hole, still stretched from their time in the shower, and placed the head of himself inside. 

Shane’s reaction was instant, like flicking the switch on a light bulb and lighting his body ablaze. His hips instantly pulled forward, trying to take more. To tell him wordlessly, it seemed, that he could take more. 

Ilya thought Shane was perfect before, but this sight? The one where she begged for him and took him with pure want for more? That was what real perfection looked like. 

He didn’t waste more time giving her more. He pressed into the tight heat and moaned as he bottomed out. Shane looked so small below him, and the way her hips still stuttered against his unmoving cock was like a spell over him. 

He couldn’t hold still longer, and it wasn’t like Shane was asking him to stay in one place. He was practically trying to fuck himself on Ilya’s cock, only unable to move much under the weight of such a specimen as Ilya. 

He pushed out, almost all the way, and then back right to the hilt, making Shane scream for him. He loved that so much, he did it again, and again, until the pacing was all about Shane and not his own needy cock. 

“Il-D-Da-oh!” 

It was music to Ilya’s ears, and he kept it up until he couldn’t edge himself much longer. He picked up the speed and moved one of the hands that was holding down Shane to bring to where they became one. Then he moved behind them, and down to a different hole. 

“This was the hole you wanted, right sweetheart?” He asked as he continued fucking him. “Not this one?” he circled his back entrance. 

Shane moaned, but shook his head. 

“Have you ever touched yourself down there?” Ilya had to ask. 

And Shane, as a very private gay man, had. Unfortunetly, part of havbing underdeveloped balls and a penis, meant that he wasn’t even sure if he’d have a prostate at first. Sadly, he discovered he didn’t have one, and the only hole that brought any joy, wass his vaginal hole. 

Ilya watched as the memory flashed on Sahne’s face. 

“Not as good?” he asked with a knowing smile. 

“No,” Shane shook his head. “Never like this.”

“And this is good?” He pushed. 

“Yes!” Shane moved his hands from Ilya’s ass to his chest, rubbing at his pecks as he looked over his gloriously fit b ody. “This is so good.” 

“Just as good as you, princess.” 

Shane gasped, the feeling of his arousal strong, but only enough to bring him to the cusp, not make him cum. Ilya had no such issues, letting his cum go straight from his dick into his good girl, hopefully finding a spot in her womb for him. 

Ilya collapsed down on Shane and laid his head on his check, kissing at the skin on his chest. Shane’s breathing was still strong, but seemingly, he was content not cumming this time. He was good afterall, wasn’t it? There was a better reward than an orgasm with his name on it.

“What do you desire, my love?” Ilya eventually asked, taking Sahne’s hand and kissing his knuckles. 

Shane’s first thought came out, “A phone? Maybe… my phone?” 

Ilya shook his head, but at least he didn’t laugh. Clearly that was too much to want. But what was the right amount to ask for? What could he get away with and have to his advantage? 

It took a couple seconds, but another idea came to mind. 

“A tv?” His voice was fragile as he asked, expecting another no. 

Ilya thought on it for a minete, and with another kiss to his knuckles, answered him, “Okay.” 

“Okay?” Shane was excited. 

“Yes,” Ilya smiled up at him. “Why not?” 

Shane knew it wasn’t the most devious thing to ask for but there was benefits to it. First of all, he’d have a clock. Not knowing what day or time it was was driving him crazy and another form of control Ilya would no longer have over him. Secondly, he could check all the news platforms to see if they were looking for him. And thirdly, he could keep up to date on important things, including Ilya, when he was away. 

Maybe he could use this new information to plan an escape. Maybe rent a few kidnapping movies. He was sure it’d have to do some good afterall. And it was his, just because he asked for it so nicely. 

“I’m tired…” shane mumbled, having a long morning. 

“Go to sleep then,” Ilya hummed, resting his own eyes on Shane like a pillow. 

“But.. you’re still inside me.” Shane spoke. 

“Yes,” Ilya smiled. “Is perfect place for you to sleep; on my cock.” 

Shane could do two things here. 

Throw a fit. Or be a good ‘girl’. 

He knew there was only one real choice. He just got a reward and he couldn’t lose it yet. He’d fall asleep on his cock, no matter how much he couldn’t help from feeling it and his cum in him while he tried to rest. He’d continue being good for Ilya. And he’d try to erase what he had to do to get it from his memory while he was at it.

Chapter Text

The next day, Shane laid in his- Ilya’s- bed. He needed to remember that. It didn’t matter if he was kept here until he died; these weren’t his things, and he didn’t want them. Even less than that, nothing, and he means nothing was theirs. 

Although he supposed one thing could be his. It was his reward afterall. So the new TV that Ilya promised to have all set up by tonight could maybe just be Shane’s. 

Ilya had ordered it first thing in the morning, laid beside Shane, their bodies' warmth pressing together, and finally rolled out and away from him. He grabbed his phone from the other room and returned happily with the Costco app open, looking for the best TV for Shane that he could go and pick up himself. 

Shane didn’t give any real input, he just blindly watched, out of boredom more than anything else. Ilya was going to buy what he wanted, even if it was for Shane. He knew that. 

It went quickly, and before long, Ilya was pressing the purchase button at the bottom, arranging for pickup within the hour. 

“There,” He looked over his shoulder at Shane. “Is ordered for you, princess.” 

Shane just hummed with acceptance. This made Ilya frown. 

“You are too good to say thank you now?” 

He pressed him, turning in the bed. His hands grabbed at Shane’s waist as the other tiredly groaned, pressing against his body. Shane could feel Ilya’s dick on his ass. It shouldn’t have made him panic, but it did. 

Ilya’s lips pressed to the back of his neck, and then he spoke, “Do I need to fuck brattiness out of you this early in the morning?” 

“N-no,” Shane replied quickly, not ready to face the emotional turmoil of that. “I'm not a brat.” 

“Prove it.” 

Shane turned around in the bed so they were face-to-face again. Dick to caged dick. His hands wound around the back of his neck, and his eyes lined up with the sun-glazed hazel ones Ilya owned. 

“Ilya,” He spoke. “Thank you.”

That’s all it took for Ilya to smile widely again. His lips pressed forward, and he was kissing Shane again, just like in his dreams at night. 

“Do you want me to make breakfast first, or should I go get your gift?” He asked Shane. 

Shane was hungry, but the idea of being spoon-fed by him again, without being able to see part of the reason he didn’t spit it out on him, was a no. Be good, Shane, be good. 

“Go,” Shane told him, meaning it. 

“I will hurry back,” Ilya promised with another kiss to her lips. 

Shane rolled over onto his back and allowed Ilya to crawl over him to get out of the bed. He closed his eyes again and decided to just sleep in while Ilya was gone. That way, he also couldn’t panic at the fear of being left here alone forever. 

—------

By the time Shane was woken back up, it was to the sound of a heavy box being placed down on the floor. He opened his eyes to see Ilya there, with the TV he had gotten. 

The TV was huge. But for some reason, the main thing that caught Shane’s attention was Ilya standing beside it. Shirtless. 

“Why are you shirtless?” Shane couldn’t help but ask, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. 

Ilya shrugged as he walked around the box, closer to Shane and the bed. “Was a lot of work to walk this thing up the steps by myself.” 

“By yourself?” Shane looked between him and the box again. It wasn’t impossible, but it was impressive. 

Sure, Shane knew Ilya had a hot body. He was on the cover of Sports Illustrated shirtless once, and let’s just say Shane got some use out of it. Seeing it in person was even more impressive. Feeling it on himself made it real. He looked and felt good. That was never a question. 

This version of him, with the sun coming through the windows and the sweat in the divots of his abs, only made it clear he was a specimen he couldn’t hide from. 

Ilya caught the sweep of Shane’s eyes over him, and he huffed out an amused noise. 

“Like what you see?” He emphasised his upper half. 

Shane looked away, almost growling in denial. “No.” 

“You know it is not a crime to look,” Ilya told him, almost as if to ease Shane’s divided conscience. A way to manipulate. 

When Shane looked back at him, he just winked. He knew that he was hot. But he could also be charming. 

“Are you gonna set the TV up or what?” Shane asked. 

Ilya took a box cutter from his pocket and Shane’s eyed it widely. If he could get that… It’d be a bold move for sure. On one hand, he’d kill for freedom. On the other hand, if he was still cuffed, killing Ilya would only kill them both. 

Maybe it was best to just keep note that he had one for the future… 

“I will set it up, but only with your help.” 

“My help?” Shane asked, not seeing that coming. 

“Yes,” He spoke as he reached into the box and untaped the manual from the box. He tossed it over to Shane, who caught it awkwardly. “You will read manual… you can read, right, Shayna?” 

Shane frowned at the insult. “Yes. I can read, Ilya, I’m not an idiot.” 

Ilya just growled, using his hand to make a paw-movement. “You are feisty today.” 

Shane rolled his eyes and stopped himself from getting another threat to ‘fuck the brat out of him’. He opened the manual and tried to find the best place to start. Then, when Ilya was moving the heavy TV around, over his head like a Greek god, he used it as a way to not oggle. 

Shane wondered for a moment how he carried him. It had to be just him, not just because he could do it, but because bringing someone else here to help only added to the danger of getting caught. Ilya wasn’t that stupid. 

Did he struggle? How did he hold him? Was it effortless? 

Shane shook his head. This only made him hotter. There was no benefit of picturing it or trying to make sense of it when it was moot. 

Ilya had placed the TV over the one dresser, the one Shane had seen him use to get various items from for himself like socks and underwear- presumably just his dresser. It lined up perfectly with the bed for Shane to be able to lounge and watch. He clearly thought it through with Shane’s comfort in mind. That was at least… nice of him. Although Shane wasn’t giving him much props for the bare minimum. 

They spent the next twenty minutes talking back and forth to eachother to get the smart TV set up. Ilya entered the passcodes to some of the streaming services he had, which Shane was happy to see included all the hockey coverage he could want. 

“What should we make the background?” Ilya asked, smiling, almost too domestic and normal about it all as he sat on the edge of the bed. 

“I don’t know…” Shane just played with the sheets as he looked down. 

Ilya didn’t accept that. “There must be something you like, something I can put up to make you happier each time you see it.” 

Shane took a heavy breath and thought about it. There was one thing he loved and missed. One thing that always made him feel better. 

“If you’re going to make me-” 

“I am.” 

Shane only let his lip quirk up a little at that insistence as he finally answered. “I’d have to say my favorite place on Earth is my cottage.” 

“Ah, yes, your cottage,” Ilya said, seeming familiar. “I have seen your video on it, very cute stuff.” 

Shane ignored the compliment and continued. “It just reminds me of things I love, being there, on the lake, the view… You know?” 

Ilya didn’t know. He had no equivalent thing. His memories often placed him back in Russia. And he hated it there enough to never want to go back or even be reminded of it. The most he took from there was his mother, and now that he had her on his chain, he didn’t need to look back to the land that never wanted him anyway. 

Ilya was good at technology and was able to add a photo view of the lake at sunset from a different locations perspective. But it was his lake. His little slice of home in the prison cell. 

He smiled, glad Ilya pushed him to answer. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have this. It gave him strength. It gave him hope. It gave him something to look forward to seeing one day again. 

“Thanks…” Shane mumbled. 

Ilya’s smile only grew. “And all by yourself?” 

Shane’s face flushed, confused at the sudden praise he elicited. “What?” 

“You thanked me, and I didn’t have to remind you,” Ilya explained as he motioned for her to join him on the edge of the bed.

Shane moved down, not needing another fight when he was being praised. Ilya moved Sahne’s head onto his shoulder, and they just looked at the TV for a moment. 

“I hope you like your prize,” Ilya sighed happily, seeing it all set up and done. 

Shane could smell Ilya as he pressed against him. Like oak and sweat. He was even a little sticky. He moved his head a bit, rolling it to look at the TV too. 

“I do.” He answered. 

“I hope one day you also like your place here,” Ilya told him. 

Shane froze. He didn’t know what to say to that that wouldn’t get him slapped around. Other than lying, which… he just couldn’t stomach. 

Luckily, Ilya didn’t ask him to say anything to it. 

“Do not speak, there is nothing to say,” He told him. “Is just my hopes for our future.”

“I suppose we all have those,” Shane tried to sympathize, at least on the surface. 

Ilya looked down at his mother’s cross and put it between his fingers. He wondered if she was still here, if she’d wish him the same that he wanted. Wondered if Svetlana would want the same. 

He knew it wasn’t what most people would do, but it was what he needed. And he was sure, one day, Shane would see he needed it too, before he drowned in the pressure of being perfect for the whole world when he was already perfect for Ilya. 

Chapter Text

Shane and Ilya were testing the tv, making sure everything worked, and then one of them enjoyed the following breakfast in bed. Ilya picked a Russian show he couldn’t understand, and he felt like a child waiting for their parent to have enough of an attention span to remember to feed them between scenes. He never thought he’d have to miss feeding himself. 

At one point, Ilya pointed out that he had some of the jam from the toast on his face. Strawberry jam, bright and pink along the outerlines of his lips. He had just assumed Ilya would get it for him, and when he just waited for Shane to, Shane was thrown off. 

He was being trained to just assume Ilya would take the reigns, and maybe that would be his downfall. Maybe it’d end with him giving up all sorts of opportunities. 

Before Ilya could take it back, Shane moved his thumb up to his lips and brushed across them. Ilya was quick to grab Shane’s hand, though, signalling he must have still managed to do something wrong. 

“You got your hand all dirty now,” He chastised lightly, making Shane see he hadn’t exactly fixed the problem in his rush to just have power over himself. “Here…” Ilya said before he pulled Shane’s thumb to his mouth and sucked the sweetness right off. 

Shane stared at him in awe for a moment, not sure if this was some sex-prelude or if he was just that… what’s the word… flirtatious all the time. 

“I could have-” 

Ilya doesn’t let Shane try to push back against what he did; he just leans closer and licks at his lips, where a faint bit of strawberry still laid. 

Shane is frozen in shock and a little bit of disgust… he thinks. 

“You still had some on your face,” Ilya laughed fondly, licking his own lips before taking a bite of their shared toast. 

“Thanks,” Shane mumbled. “But I could have gotten it.” 

“My sweet Shayna, you don’t have to worry about things like that,” He told her, ruffling some of his hair affectionately. “Besides, I told you about it, and you just made bigger mess to clean up.” 

Shane scoffed, annoyed at how he played him for some fool. “I could have fixed that, too!” 

“Sure, you could have,” Ilya grabs for a sip of their juice, seemingly not convinced. 

“I could have!” Shane asserts further. “It’s not hard to lick a thumb, Ilya, I’m not helpless!” 

“No?” 

“No!” Shane breathed heavily in his annoyance. 

“Then why don’t you feed yourself?” Ilya supplied easily. 

Gladly, Shane thought as his eyes fixed back on the tray Ilya had made up that morning. Toast with jam, slices of apple, and more orange juice. 

He reached for an apple slice, only to have Ilya grab the bowl they were in and put them on the side table by the bed that Shane couldn’t reach. Then, when Shane moved to take some toast instead, he moved that plate alongside it. Then, before Shane could even reach the Orange juice, downed the rest of it with a sweet, citrusy smile. 

“I can’t do it if you take them away from me!” 

“Well then, it seems to me, you are helpless, and you do need your husband to take good care of you.” 

Shane closed his eyes in pure embarrassment. He should have seen it was a test, but he couldn’t help but just wanna go at every turn he could find towards freedom. 

A small tear slid down his face as he tried to face away from Ilya in a stance against him. “Not my fucking husband…” 

But even Shane knew that was just a semantic. Emotionally, he wasn’t. He’d never be. But on paper? He was as good as glued to Ilya’s hip. 

If Ilya heard Shane, he ignored him. He put the tray back together in silence and moved it over to another table in the room, so it would be there when he went to leave the room. He’d take it back to the kitchen and try not to think of how Shan e had ruined their nice morning with defiance and insistence on things she just couldn’t have… at least not until she earned them. 

One step forward, one step back. He’d be patient with Shane. Anything for her. 

“I have to go out today,” Ilya told Shane eventually. 

Shane looked at him, curious. “Again?” 

“Yes,” He explained. “I have meeting with my agent.” 

“And I just, what? Stay here like a good little girl?” He spat with an indignant tone. 

Ilya smiled. “Yes, that would be perfect, actually.” 

“I wasn’t being serious, Ilya!” 

“Well, I was,” He shot back, like it never even mattered what Shane thought or said anyway. It probably didn’t. “I know last time I left you, you were scared, but this is different, this is not punishment. This is just life.” 

Shane wanted to protest in silence, sure that everything he said always got used against him to make him look weaker, but he couldn’t help but feel a need to know things. 

“How long?” He asked. 

“Two hours or so.” 

Shane looked unhappy with that. 

“Relax, малыш, you have TV now, you will not be bored,” He explained, moving to make sure the remote was in reach of Shane, placing it down next to Shane. 

Shane couldn’t help but feel his heart race over it all, his pulse quickening in turn with it. It felt too final, even if it was so so temporary for Ilya. Too hard to stomach, just like his fate here. 

Before he could think much about whether it was wrong or right, Shane’s hands came out and clamped around Ilya’s arm. Not to harm, but to keep there, at least til he could talk some sense into him. 

“Let go of me,” Ilya warned, teeth clenched and eyes ablaze. 

Shane saw the fire in his eyes and still couldn’t help but play in the fire. 

“I’m not trying to hurt you!” Shane expressed, not sure he’d be believed. “I just-You can’t just go!” 

“Shane,” Ilya looked at him again. “Let go.” 

“If I let go, you’re going to leave me here.” 

“And?” 

“And, I’m chained to a bed! What if there's a fire? Or an intruder who wants to hurt me? Or-Or anything! Oh my god, I don’t even have a phone or anything! I’ll die here, just like this, and I can’t-” 

“Whoa.” Ilya seemed to realize it was real the more Shanes’ voice tilted into panic. “Settle down, Shane.” 

“I can’t!” He sputtered. 

“Shhh,” Ilya soothed, watching the panic fill the other’s frame from head to toe. He let him grab at his hand and let him pull it into his lap, following suit and sitting next to Shane. “It’s okay.” 

He moved his body so Shane was inside his legs and leaned back as he panicked and spoke hurried, terrified thoughts about not dying like this. 

He had no idea Shane would be so scared of this. Compared to the punishment, he thought it’d be a piece of cake. But it seemed it wasn’t. They wouldn’t be too different, but it seemed the fact that he’d be in the home alone was the problem. He must know Ilya would protect him from all these fears if he was just there for him. 

Shane was maybe a bit of a bad girl this morning, once her temperament seemed to run dry of patience, but right now, all Ilya could see was that Shane was scared. And that mattered whether she was perfect or horrible. Because that was what love was. For better or worse. 

“Shane, please listen to me, I have you, you’re safe,” He told him. “I will not be gone long; the chances of those things happening are so small, baby.” 

That didn’t seem to ease him into it much. 

Ilya wasn’t sure if this was dangerous to admit or not, but he had cameras in the house. Of course he did. How else would he watch over Shane? Would knowing that help Shane or hurt Ilya more? He had to try. 

“Shane, I have cameras and alarms, and if even so much as a hair on your head is touched, I will be back here, ready to kill.” 

The harsh way he said kill should have been scarier than it was for Shane. But maybe he already assumed what he was capable of before he made it a sure fact of intention. 

The cameras were good. Right? Maybe not for everything, but for this little bit, maybe it’d be enough. 

“You’ll watch them?” Shane hiccuped, so out of it, he didn’t even pull out of Ilya’s grasp as he’d usually do. 

“I will watch cameras, yes,” Ilya told him. “Will be so short, I will be back before you even know I am gone, please, Shane, I need to know you’ll be okay.” 

Was Shane okay, though? In the sense that Shane kept, no. In the sense Ilya kept, he supposed he could do that. 

“It’s scary…” He admitted that, although he was starting to come around to letting him go without a fight for his life. 

“Tell you what,” Ilya said after he placed a kiss on Shane’s crown. “You pick out movie, at least 2 hour movie, and I will be home before you are even done with it.”

Shane breathed heavily and then looked back at the TV. Set on the picture of the cottage, calming him down a bit. 

“Promise?” Shane asked, looking at him seriously. 

“Promise,” Ilya told him. “And next time I leave this house, I also promise to take me with you.” 

That perked Shane up. He’d heard he’d be able to go places, but the when and where were always such a mystery. This wasn’t exactly a ‘When,’ but it was an idea of one. Afterall, Ilya couldn’t stay here forever. He’d need groceries, nights out, and things for his job. 

This little fact, this little hope to separate from him, and even this house eventually, calmed him more than anything else. 

“Okay.” Shane decided, letting go of his arm like a final decision. 

Ilya didn’t pull away, though; he used the arm he was holding like a vice to bring around Shane’s body for a big hug, even shifting him upwards more towards the pillows as he slipped out. 

“That’s my brave girl,” He looked down at her, sparkling eyes clearing back up. 

Shane said nothing, just looked down and waited for Ilya to go. Ilya wasted no time leaving out the door, sure that the sooner it was over, the sooner Shane would feel comforted again. Showing he could keep a promise and keep Shane safe. Something he wanted Shane to believe as much as he did, so badly it hurt.

—-----

Shane didn’t feel like scrolling through options for hours, so he clicked on one of the first movies he saw. Titanic. That’d be more than long enough, so he didn’t even need to finish it if he didn’t want to. 

Twenty minutes into it, he wondered if he should have picked something more manly just for the sake of claiming back some of his masculinity. But then, he realized this movie was actually the perfect one to watch in his shoes. 

It was afterall, not just an escape from a sinking ship, but a smothering life. 

True to Ilya’s words, he came back before it was over, and Shane, so engrossed in the movie, didn’t even notice until he walked into the bedroom door. 

“Shane,” He breathed happily. “No problems?” 

Shane hummed, “Only one.” 

Ilya’s brow furrowed as he scrunched up his sleeves. “What is it?” he asked, ready to take whatever it was and make it pay. 

“You,” Shane told him, flatly, not afraid to speak at the moment, feeling empowered through the screen. 

“Excuse me?” Ilya asked back, perhaps giving him a chance to change his attitude. 

“Oh, you know, this movie just reminded me of… us.” Shane leaned on one of his hands. 

“Jack and Rose?” Ilya said as he looked back at the TV to see the movie playing out on the big screen he’d gotten her. “Soulmates.”

“No, more like Cal and Rose,” Shane told him. 

Ilya stepped forward, and Shane only shook a little in fear, trying to keep his composure. 

“You want to liken me to an abusive piece of shit, some coward, some villain?” Ilya asked as he took another towering step forward. “You do not want to know what I am like as a villain, Shayna.”

Wasn’t he already a villain? God, if this was him being nice, maybe he didn’t want to know. 

But something in him couldn’t take it right then and there. 

His voice shook, but his shoulders were high. “I don’t think I want to know you at all.” 

Ilya had had enough. He walked closer to the bed and grabbed Shane by the cage, pulling him forward until he was tumbling off the bottom of the bed, cagey and small at it’s base. 

Shane looked up at him as he sat down in front of him, confused and surely scared. 

“How much time left in movie?” He asked Shane. 

“I-I don’t know,” he spoke in honesty. 

Ilya grabbed the remote and checked. About an hour of the film left. 

“Look at me,” Ilya said when Shane tried to melt into the floor. When Shane shook his head, Ilya wasted no time grabbing his hair by the roots and forcing him. “Look at me!” 

“I’m looking!” Shane sounded as scared as he looked, but somehow still not regretful. He needed to make him regret so he never pulled that insulting shit again. After he was so sweet to him, too! 

“You are going to learn to be good girl again,” He told him. “I am going to watch this nice movie’s end, and you will kneel there and drool around my cock to keep it warm. When it’s over, you can decide if an hour on my cock was enough or if I need to watch a whole other movie to get it through to you.” 

“No,” Shane pulled against the hold on his head as he was lowered closer to Ilya’s crotch. “Don’t!” 

“You don’t get a fucking say!” Ilya shot back. “Your whole life from this point forward is you not getting a fucking say! So get fucking used to it and accept what you are!” 

“No!” A crack in his voice shook more anger into Ilya, like this brat thought he could just cry his way out of it. 

Mercy wasn’t so simple. 

“Tell me what you are right now,” Ilya asked him. 

“I can’t!” Shane’s panic was back, but there was no steady hand to calm him down. Just Ilya’s awaiting cok between the pened fly of his pants. 

“I will push you down on my cock either way!” He reminded him. 

“Th-Then I’ll bite you!” 

Ilya’s eyes had never turned this fiery before, but the way they did made Shane whimper in fear and try to back up more than he had before, his bare feet trying to find purchase on the floors so he could stand up, unable to, let alone run away. 

“You bite my dick, I cut yours off,” He made the threat nice and clear to him, right in his tear-stained face. 

Fuck. He believed him. 

“You going to be good now?” Ilya asked, shaking the boy a bit by his hair. 

“I’m sorry!” The regret finally found its place in Shane’s chest, and he was heaving sobs with it. “I’m sorry, Ilya.” 

“Too late for sorry,” Ilya said with a dry, clear face. “You learn lesson now.” 

Without another word, Ilya moved his free hand into Shane’s mouth to force it open, making him gag with the strength of it. Then he shoved him onto his long, thick cock, all the way to the end until he gagged. 

That would show her….

Chapter Text

Shane got himself in the mess he made, he knew this, but a part of iim still wanted to fight that and say it was all Ilya’s fault. That if he had never kidnapped him and expected so much, he’d never bring him disappointments. He didn’t live to make him happy, no matter what Ilya wanted. And Shane wasn’t happy at all. 

He was currently 9 inches deep on Ilya’s cock, knees in the hardwood flooring, and his brain was swimming in the aftermath of his panic. The more he panicked and struggled against his place, the worse it got, so he had to just breathe through his nose and take it. 

For how long? Until the move ends. Whatever time that was, Shane had no idea. He’d just gotten himself rights to a clock, and he was in no position to use it when he was at the base of Ilya’s cock, and all he could see was endless bits of all things Ilya. 

His nose buried in his pubes. His eyes in line with his abs. Everything tasting and smelling and looking like the man he wanted to get further from, not closer. 

Was this better or worse than sucking him off? Shane decided worse. Not because he didn’t get pleasure from it, he totally didn’t get pleasure from sucking the demanding man off. But because it was so long and nothing could make it end but time itself. 

He continued to breathe through his nose as he tried to zone out of the punishment. He had to admit, he was already thinking about how to avoid this in the future, so it must be a good punishment. 

He heard something behind him that he swore sounded like the end of the movie and perked up, legs a bit straighter and eyes looking up higher at Ilya who was good at ignoring him to this point. 

“Il-yuh,” he spoke with his mouth full, jaw aching. 

“Shhh.” He settled him. “Credits not over.” 

He was waiting for the fucking credits? God, he was milking this. Shane didn’t want to remind him that he was in charge and could keep him here as long as he wanted; he didn’t need lame excuses, but it felt obvious to him. He rolled his eyes and waited again. 

Eventually, Ilya turned the movie off and looked down at Shane, loving them in this position, not just below him, but on his knees and a slave for his cock and his cock alone. 

“What do we think, babydoll?” He asked Shane. “Did you learn your lesson or not?” 

Shane eagerly nodded his head. “Yuh,” he sputtered around the drool that steadily left his gaping mouth. 

“Yuh?” Ilya copied, cooing down at him fondly. “That’s adorable.” 

Shane whined around the embarrassment, wanting off his cock like yesterday. He wanted to rub his jaw. He wanted to breathe without feeling restricted and with the smell of Ilya’s musk attached. He wanted to swallow, dammit. 

“Oh, you are so whiny,” Ilya continued to coo. “I suppose I can forgive you if you apologize.” 

Ilya nodded his head and told him he was free to pull off of him, with the condition that he was good. His eyes told him that if he wasn’t going to be tough, he might as well strap in for a long while longer. 

Shane pulled off and pressed his forehead against Ilya’s thigh, just taking a moment to recover. Closing his mouth felt so good; he could cry. But he wouldn’t. 

“I’m sorry,” He said when his head lulled to the side. “I’m sorry.” 

Ilya looked at him and saw the boy in such a broken state that he couldn’t not forgive him if he wanted to. He was quick to put his arms under his shoulders and hoist him up on his lap. Shane only whimpered for a moment when he was sat down on top of Ilya’s spit-soaked cock and then settled into the makeshift bear hug. 

“I’m sorry,” he kept repeating, like he was scared it wasn’t enough. 

“Shh,” Ilya smoothed his wild hair. “Is all I needed to hear. I forgive you.” 

“I’m sorry,” He simply repeated, clearly gone into a headspace now. Ilya can’t force him out of it easily. 

He stayed there and just held Shane, telling him with each apology that it was okay. That he was okay. He took his punishment like a good girl, and that’s all Ilya saw of him now. His sweet, good girl. 

And he loved his girl. His sweet babyfaced girl who needed him for everything. Her sweet, tender, loving husband. Made and meant for her, just like with her for him. 

She would be good the rest of the day, he knew it. The feel of her racing heartbeat settling would need to stay there for a while to feel okay. And that’s okay. They could have a good, easy rest of the day. He’d clean her, he’d bathe her, he’d lay her down and fuck her. It’d be worth it all and more. 

—----

Later that night, Ilya found himself in the mood to just cuddle. So they’d been cuddling, a few words spoken between them, for the last twenty minutes. 

He crawled into the bed naked next to Shane and instantly pulled him closer. His hands played with every part of his body, just exploring for the sake of knowing, nothing more. 

Every so often, he’d hear a faint whimper when he got too close to somewhere sensitive. He loved hearing them, feeling that he had control over him like this, even when it was just for fun. 

He started to do it on purpose after a while. 

Shane whimpered loudly into his ear as he squirmed a bit. Ilya’s finger was tracing the outline of his vulva and dipping down over the outside of his lips. 

“So fussy,” He whispered. 

“It’s sensitive,” Shane buried himself further into his neck as he complained faintly. 

“Or is it needy?” Ilya asked him. “We haven’t had sex all day, you know.” 

Shane sniffed and pulled out of his little hole in his neck. “So?” 

“So, maybe you miss me,” Ilya explained, hand stilled right over the edge of his left lip, massaging it. 

Shane groaned and fell back into his neck, the least threatening part of Ilya in his opinion, for safety. “Do we have to?” 

“Yes, we have to, every day until you’re round with me,” Ilya told him. “And after that too, just because I’m insatiable for you, Shayna.” 

“Why do you call me that?” Shane figured questions weren’t as bad as full-on refusals of things. Plus, they added to his knowledge. 

“Is just nickname made out of your name, is very common in my country,” He explained to him. “Like some people close to me call me Ilyushka.” 

“Ilyushka?” 

“Yes, but you don’t need to,” Ilya told him. “Your version is just one I think is cute.” 

“I’m not cute,” Shane groaned again. He was a man, dammit. 

“Oh, you are so cute,” Ilya pulled him out of his hold, just to kiss him on the tip of the nose. “The cutest ever.” 

“Don’t wanna be cute,” Shane pouted, an endearing sight to the other. 

“Too late,” Ilya told him. “And you’ll only get cuter.” 

Shane gave an indignant noise and tried to crawl back into Ilya’s neck, but he was stopped by a hand holding up his cheek. 

“You know I love you no matter what, though, don’t you?” Ilya felt the need to make things serious all of a sudden. To make sure. 

If Shane didn’t know that so well, it wouldn’t make him feel sick at times. Sure, Ilya was insane, but he set his sights on Shane. He picked Shane. And Shane could be anything and anyone now, and he’d never get out of his hold. 

“I know…” He simply told him, hoping it appeased him.

Ilya smiled and continued to caress Shane’s face for a few moments of silence. It wasn’t awkward silence, just silence that settled all around them. Shane tried not to look him in the eyes. 

“I want you to watch me while I put baby in you,” Ilya suddenly spoke. 

Shane swallowed hard. 

“You never watch, it is so hot, and it is so perfect,” Ilya explained as he already started on Shane’s tender neck. “It’s like you can see our future blooming from the love we make.”

Shane hated it when he called it making love. This was sex. This was an assault. This wasn’t making anything but Shane sick. 

Ilya could feel his throat’s hollow shift as Shane swallowed back words he knew better than to say. He clearly didn’t want this, but he had no energy to be bad right now. Ilya liked that he’d be good, sure, he’d miss his bratting one day, but right now, fine with this break. 

“I know you’re tired,” Ilya told him. “I’ll be quick.” 

Shane wouldn’t complain about that. He was tired. Tired of this. Tired after he warmed him for an hour. Tired after days here. Tired of it all. 

If he could justy lay back and zone out… so be it. 

But then again, Ilya said he wanted him to watch… didn’t he? 

After a little while of playing with Shane, Ilya pressed a few fingers into Shane’s hole, one at a time. He liked playing with him here, and the deeper his fingers got, the more he knew he filled the other, his cunt, his mind, and his every last sense. 

Shane didn’t speak, but he made noises. He supposed if Shane had nothing nice to say, silence was the best option. But not forever. 

When he pushed his cock in, slow but steady, the loudest noise erupted from Shane. One that made Ilya proud to know, just from that, he fucked and filled his wife well. Better than anyone else ever could, if they ever had the chance. 

“Look, look, look!” He uttered as his cock entered fully. 

“Hmm?” Shane came out of a bit of a trance, looking up at Ilya, who insisted he look down more. 

“See it?” 

“No…” 

“Look right there,” He traced his stomach with his fingers. “Is outline of my cock inside you.” 

Shane squinted for a second, sure he was just making it all up, but then he saw it. The outline of his dick, embedded in him. It was huge, but faint, and Shane had never seen that before. Was that even supposed to happen? 

“See, I am so deep in you, right where I will put baby,” He had begun to fuck in and out of him. “Feel it.” 

“Feel it?” 

“Feel me inside you,” Ilya explained. 

“I already do,” He swallowed back another whimper from the feelings inside him. 

“I mean, on outside,” Ilya grabbed Shane’s hand and placed it over the small outline. “Feel it?” 

Oh god. He could. 

“I don’t think I wanna feel-” Shane tried to pull his hand away, too real for him, only to have it pressed back down.

“Nonsense,” Ilya interrupted him. “Feel me.”

“I-” Shane’s voice broke as he froze there. 

The best thing he could do was try to zone out again, wasn’t it? Like a man underwater, who could hear nothing, all on his own. He imagined he was in the lake, safe and alone. The pleasure was there, but there was no reason to be scared like there really was. 

“Shane-” He called him out of his trance before he even went under. 

“What?” His voice pitched up as he asked, beyond tired now. 

“Ask me for it.” 

“For what?” 

Ilya fucked into him even harder. He heard the whine out of Shane’s mouth and saw his arms shake like jelly. 

“Ask me to cum in you.” 

Shane groaned, this time for other reasons. He’d asked for his babies once, but this felt filthier somehow. 

Shane couldn’t, even as Ilya waited.

“If you do not like my cock in your hole, daddy could always use your mouth again…” He threatened. 

“No…” Shane cried. “Cum in my-cum in me.” 

It was the lesser of two evils for his jaw, even if, in the long run, cumming in his hole was much more dangerous. He just wanted it over. 

“You can say it prettier than that,” Ilya told him, a bit more threat to his voice that said ‘I’m close, so you better get it right, and fast.’

“Okay, okay, just cum in me! I need it! I want it! Want your cum in my cunt and a baby in my fucking womb, daddy.” 

Ilya came perfectly in time, just like he wanted to. Always what Ilya wanted, never Shane. Even if he loved the friction in his cunt, cumming or no cumming, he knew it was for the wrong reasons. 

He dreaded how sticky the cum would feel, but Ilya clearly had no intentions of pulling out. 

“More cuddles, мой любовник,” He requested, this time the one on top for the cuddle session. 

And what could Shane really do but that?

Chapter Text

A few more days passed where Shane was mostly flying on autopilot. Scared to be bad, scared to be too good and fall into it, scared to overthink everything and anything that crossed his mind. 

He’d spend hours lying out on Ilya’s cock, all through the night, even when they weren’t fucking. Clearly, Ilya had found a place he liked to settle in, and there was no wiggle room for complaining there. 

One thing he found that he had a little wiggle room with was the little things, like eating. He didn’t wanna push too far; he needed the strength if he was ever going to escap, especially with limited exercise. But pushing a little? He was allowed to actually hold some food under the guise of wanting to feed Ilya a snack one day. Next step… hopefully his own mouth. 

Another thing he was allowed to do was the sheets again. Ilya wanted to change them again- thank god-, and Shane was quick to volunteer. Anything to get out of that chain, to get on his feet, to gain any little step in the right direction. 

Sometimes it was harder to bite his tongue than others. Sometimes he’d finally start to dissociate from things, lying there after a dream about home, and Ilya would ruin it. He’d lean over and say something that made him too aware of where he was. The thing he said most often that upset him was when he’d grab his stomach and tell him they might already have a baby in there. The idea made Shane scared and sick. 

One thing Shane used to distract himself, aside from his dreams and his time with his in the clouds, was the one thing Ilya had told him. Not just told him. But promised. 

He promised him that the next time he left this house, Shane would come with him. 

It had been two days since he said that. It wasn’t an eternity, but it felt like it. Ilya had to leave eventually; he knew this now. He’d seen it for himself when watching sports news one day. 

The woman on the TV had reported that Ilya Rozanov had extended his bereavement leave for another two weeks from when it was meant to end. That meant he’d be on the ice by the end of next week. 

Shane was also terrifyingly relieved to see they reported on him, too. It seemed that the Metros had finally put out a formal statement on their missing captain. Shane had hope they’d report him missing, but instead, they stated that they’d talked to his family personally and were assured he was just taking a mental health break. 

As if his mental health wasn’t breaking further here. 

The woman stipulated it probably had to do with the car accident, and it’s effects on Shane, and in a twisted way, she wasn’t wrong. It just wasn’t how they put it. It was a lot more illegal and a lot less his choice, really. 

Ilya probably already knew his plan was working beautifully. Who knows how many more texts he’d sent as him to the people he loved just to assure it? Shane had some hope… now it was just crushed. 

He’d have to save himself, it seemed. And he’d love to do that as soon as possible. Maybe even today, if he could be so lucky. Afterall, Ilya couldn’t stay in the house forever. 

Shane sat in the bed with a new magazine, on one afternoon, scanning the pages for anything that wasn’t mind-numbing. It was some Vogue issue, and he wasn’t sure what any man would want with this. At least if he were straight, he could admire the woman, but that was a moot point, too. He hadn’t been able to admire anyone but Ilya… not that he did it too often.

Before he could give up on it, Ilya came back into the room holding a ginger ale. 

“Nice to see you enjoying your magazines, babygirl,” He smiled as he walked right up to him. 

“I wasn’t-” Shane shoved the magazine down, only to see what Ilya was holding, and decided arguing wasn’t worth the time. “Is that for me?” 

“Yes,” Ilya said, handing it over to Shane. 

Shane couldn’t believe it. Not that he knew his favorite drink; that was old news to the world. But that he was just handing him it. Letting him take a sip for himself, even if it was through a dainty little straw inside. 

It tasted great. Cold. Bubbly. Soothing. Everything he craved and hadn’t had in far too long. But it was also suspicious. 

Shane’s eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to butter me up?” 

Ilya scoffed, almost offended. “No!” 

Shane gave him a look that said he didn’t quite believe him and enjoyed another sip of his drink regardless. 

“Today is day I know you were waiting for,” Ilya told him. “We are going somewhere.” 

“The police station?” Shane said, joking but also not objecting. 

Ilya gave a disapproving look before he took the key out of his pocket and undid his ankle chain. Shane was shocked by how quickly and easily it was happening, but he was also aware he couldn’t just jump right up and get past the brick wall that was Ilya Rozanov. 

“Where are we going then?” Shane asked him, looking up like a child with wonder, endless possibilities. 

“You do not need to worry about that,” Ilya told him, placing the key back in his pocket. Shane’s eyes watching it, wondering if he’d have a chance to reach in there today and grab it. “But we need to get you dressed.” 

“Dressed?” Shane asked, even if it felt kind of stupid to question. 

He never thought about the fact that it wasn’t normal to be nude and caged and collared all day everyday. He hoped that didn’t mean it was becoming routine. 

What was Ilya even going to dress him in, did he have the clothes he came to him in still? He’d never been offered so much as a stitch of fabric. He had bad ideas about it. 

“Yes,” Ilya told him as he picked him up, making him hold on in fear of being dropped. “Come with me…” 

Shane wasn’t sure where they were going until he made a turn at the en suite bathroom. Inside it looked normal as always, and Ilya was quick to shut the door and stand in front of it. 

Shane stood there, unsure. 

“If you need to go to the bathroom, go now, and then when you’re done, there is set of clothing for you under cabinet.” He explained, standing like a statue on guard. 

He didn’t need to go to the bathroom, but he did need to get going. He wanted out of the home like yesterday, absolutely stir crazy on top of wanting his freedom. 

“Wait, aren’t you going to… you know…” Shane blushed as he motioned to the cage around his cock. 

“No,” Ilya shook his head. “You can wear that.” 

“In public?” 

“Why not?” Ilya shrugged like it was nothing. “The only thing it does is let people know you’re my good girl, and good girls don’t touch themselves.” 

“I don’t wanna touch myself, I just wanna be-” 

“Солнечный свет, the answer is no,” He put his foot down, stepping a few feet closer. “But you can keep the collar at home.” 

Shane opened his mouth to argue, but then he realized it was probably best to not have to wear the collar out. At least the cage was under his clothes… whatever they were. The collar was more embarrassing, and if he pushed now, he might not get this sweet of a deal again. 

Shane lifted his head and let Ilya take the collar off him. It was so freeing to have that thing off his throat; even breathing felt better. 

Ilya simply took a step back and nodded back to the cabinet by the sink for him. 

Shane was sure this wasn’t where clothes were normally kept, but for some reason, Ilya felt this was the best place for them today. Already selecting something, making sure Shane was contained in a smaller room for it, all the things you’d expect from someone evil yet dedicated. 

Shane bent and looked down in the cabinet, seeing a light gray bit of fabric right in the front. He pulled it out and stood up, straightening the garment into something he wasn’t used to. 

“What is this?” Shane asked him. 

“Is sweater dress,” Ilya told him. “Is cold, can’t have my baby shivering out there.” 

“And a sweater wouldn’t do?” Shane asked, finally seeing it in what he held as very much not his or his gender's preferred style. 

“You are chatty today,” Ilya quipped. “Just get dressed.” 

“But-” 

“Oh, and don’t forget these,” He reached into his back pocket and quickly threw something at Shane. 

Shane caught the flash of red in his hands with the sweater dress and tried to figure out what it was. Then it hit him. It wasn’t a pocket square. It was a bright red lace thong. 

Shane shook his head, looking right in Ilya’s eyes. He’d rather go commando than that. It didn’t even look comfortable! 

Ilya looked at him right back, eyes stern, nodding slowly. 

Shane clutched them in his hands hard enough to stop him from screaming. 

“Chop chop,” Ilya told him, looking at his watch. “Don’t want to miss our appointment.” 

“Do you have to watch?” Shane asked. 

Ilya started walking towards him. “Well, what if you need help-”

“No!” Shane held his hands up in surrender. “I don’t need help, I’ll do it.” 

The last thing he wanted was death-by-embaressment before he could escape, and getting dressed in a thong by Ilya would definitely be up there. 

He placed the sweater dress down by the sink, glad it was dry there, and held up the thong, rightside up. It was a glrofied triangle and he’d never understood how women wore them. They looked tacky and impractical. 

He missed his boxer briefs terribly as he swallowed down his distaste and stepped into them. He was right to assume they weren’t comfortable and right to feel like a complete and total sissy in them, pink metal of the cage poking through the slits in the lace. 

Shane could feel Ilya staring at him, along with a little held-back moan. He was scared to look at him and see him touching himself at the view of Shane, so he figured the best thing he could do was put on the sweater dress and cover it all up. 

The dress was soft at least, which wasn’t true of the thong. It was a soft cashmere, very expensive, he was sure. Probably cost too much for how short it was, though. 

Shane looked down and watched the skirted part of it swirl a bit. Frowning. He wasn’t fond of this at all. Where would he have to go like this anyway? Didn’t Ilya realize girls wore pants too? 

“Ilya, my legs are exposed,” He huffed. “It’s still gonna be cold, no matter how cozy the sweater is.” 

Shit, did he just mention that the sweater was cozy? Never admit those things!

“I know,” Ilya said. “There are boots for you in the car.” 

“Like… snow boots?” Shane asked. 

“Like, knee-high boots.” He informed him. 

Ilya wasn’t stupid enough to bring them inside and give Shane any sort of footwear. Small block heel on them or not, Shane would only have more power to run away. This was safest. 

Shane just looked at him like he couldn’t believe he would make him do this, but really, Ilya wasn’t sure why his sweet girl would expect anything less.

Chapter Text

The pair stepped out of the ensuite, and Shane was guided back to sit on the bed again. He wasn’t sure why at first, but then Ilya went to a drawer in the other dresser and grabbed a pair of socks. 

Women’s socks, but still the least offensive thing on his body. 

Shane held his hand out for them, ready to give in and put them on, but his hand was lowered, and Ilya went down to his knees. He gently grabbed Shane’s foot and, as if it were delicate, placed the first sock on it. He pulled it all the way up to right below his knee and then placed a kiss right on the cap of it. Shane watched as he repeated it. 

“There,” He told him, smiling. “Stand up and show me how you look.” 

Shane frowned. Ilya knew how he looked. He felt like some dress-up doll as he stood and slowly circled in place for the other. 

Shane was waiting for some comment about how perfect he looked, expecting those types of things from Ilya. But it didn’t come. 

“No,” Ilya said. “I cannot let you go out like this.” 

Shane’s eyes widened at that. Not only was it not complimentary of what he’d done, but it was pretty much the opposite. 

“You can’t?” He breathed out in relief and shock. 

Maybe he was finally starting to see that Shane wasn’t a girl. That he didn’t look like one, even in all this get-up he’d put on. That this was a mistake. 

Shane could only hold his breath and hope. 

“It’s missing something.” Ilya told him, moving over to the bedside drawer on ‘his’ side of the bed. 

Shane maybe could have been able to run, but he was so shocked, his feet stayed still. He watched him quickly rustle things around in search of something. Something so important it stopped everything. 

When he returned, he was holding a black velvet box. 

Oh god… 

“You’re my wife,” Ilya explained. “And I can’t have you leaving this house without every soul on Earth knowing this.” 

Ilya opened up the box, and Shane was taken aback by the sheer shine of the diamond alone. It was huge and blinding. It was in a pear cut and must have been at least 3 karots in size. Wrapped over a white gold band and next to another, simpler ring. 

“I never got to properly engage, but you deserved ring for that too,” Ilya explained, almost shyly, like he was nervous to be doing something so intimate. It almost wasn’t like him. “Give me your hand.” 

Shane hesitated, but then raised his hand in surrender. He laid his hand in Ilya’s hand as he placed the rings on him. They were light as a feather, but Shane still felt them. Knew he’d always feel them there. 

“Looks good with mine, yes?” Ilya asked, holding up his own wedding ring. 

He’d been wearing it since Shane got there. He had to assume it was his wedding ring with Svetlana. Why else would it have been there all along and his own be hidden away until now? 

In a way he knew would fade in mere seconds, Shane felt sorry for Ilya. 

“Now, baby,” Ilya grabbed his hand, not even waiting for an answer. “You are going to be good at the appointment, right?” 

“I don’t even know what it is, though.” 

“There is no such thing as an appointment you shouldn’t be a good girl for, so it should not matter, right?” 

Shane stared at him blankly, wondering how much bullshit he really needed him to spew today. He got dressed. He was wearing the ring. Wasn’t that enough? Why must he push him further and further every day? He wanted him to break, but Shane wouldn’t, so it was fruitless and painful. 

Ilya moved his hands up to Shane’s shoulders, rubbing them and then coming in closer to his collar-free neck. He looked in his eyes and leaned in on her. 

“If you are very good for me, I will give you another present.” Ilya confided in him. 

Shane’s interest was peaked a little bit. His last and only gift was helpful. It told him the time and the day and what the world thought of them both. But it didn’t free him, so it was limited luxury. Would there be any gift worth as much, if not more? Worth behaving in public for? He wasn’t sure. 

On one hand, if he behaved, he got a present. And if he didn’t, there was still a chance he wouldn’t be saved anyway, and he’d come back to an even angrier Ilya. 

What if Ilya had people following them? Watching them? No… he needed more time. He needed to see how this went. Scope things out. Even establish some fake trust that screamed ‘Shane can be good’.

“What present?” Shane asked, sharp, like negotiating a business deal. 

“That is surprise too,” Ilya said. “But I think you will like it very, very, much.” 

Shane’s heartbeat sped up at the unknown, but not in a bad way. In a way that made him go from wanting to know to needing to know. 

“Okay, fine,” Shane answered, no longer able to look him in the eye as he succumbed to it. 

His hand came back out, waiting for Ilya’s, and the other smiled like he’d been the one to receive a gift. He took his hand and kissed the top of it before he used the light grip on him to walk them both out of the bedroom door. 

This was the first time Shane had been outside the bedroom since he got here, and even then, he was knocked out cold when he was brought inside. It was exploring a whole new place, and if he only had a small time to try and memorize it, then he was lazer focused. 

The upstairs hallway had multiple doors that led to different rooms. Things he could assume to be other bedrooms or a bathroom, maybe even an office or extra closet. He couldn’t see into them, but maybe if he was lucky, one of them would have windows that actually opened he could squeeze through one day. 

Then came the spiralling stairs made of dark wood. They were beautiful if he was looking at it from a real estate lens, but loud under his feet as he looked at it from a stealthy aspect. 

Then the bottom floor. Huge, open concept, and just as bright as upstairs. The view was the same, lots and lots of trees as far as the eye could see. He noticed a back door that led out to a patio. Noted. Maybe one day he’d slip through there to never be seen again. Unless it had a lock. 

That’s when Shane was guided over to a different door, something he could tell by the workings of was the front door of the home. He was steps away from freedom, at least in the sense of being out of the hell house. Fresh air alone could bring him to his knees, and it almost did as they stepped out to the front of the house. 

Shane saw more trees on both sides of a small back road that led up to the driveway Ilya had. He was tugged along carefully through the walkway so as not to slip.

There was a single car on the driveway. Not one of the fanciest sports cars he constantly bragged about, but still, a nice limited edition BMW was there, and it seemed to be as practical as he got with cars. 

Shane walked right up to the passenger side door, Ilya’s hand still in his to make sure he goes where he wants him to. To make sure he doesn’t get away, probably as well. 

Ilya opened the door and put a hand on Shane’s back to gently guide him in, whispering to be careful of his head and even closing the door for him. 

Shane looked around inside the car, and there was nothing of any value in it. He sighed. He should have figured. 

One thing he didn’t think of before, though, was the fact that Ilya did need to leave his side. At least for a moment to get to his own side of the car. Shane watched as Ilya walked around the back of the car and couldn’t help the adrenaline telling him to act now or die here. 

He tugged at the car door handle. It didn’t budge. He tried again even harder, hurting his arms as he pulled too much. Fuck. So close yet so far. 

Ilya shuffled into his own seat and didn’t even glance at Shane. Shane knew he must know what he did, though, must have seen the very end of it. 

“Ilya, I was just-” 

“Save it,” Ilya told him as he closed his own door and started up the car. “I knew you’d try it. Why else did you think I locked it?” 

Shane felt like a kid who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and at the same time, felt like an idiot. He quickly turned the window before he could do something stupid like cry, and tried to zone out until they got to wherever they were going. 

—---

The black matte car seemed to drive for a long time, but Shane supposed that wasn’t too crazy a realization. Ilya had told him they were in the middle of nowhere, and it showed. 

When he finally saw other cars and buildings, he dared to speak up a bit. 

“Can you please tell me where we’re going now?” Shane asked him, socked feet tapping on the floor of the car. 

Ilya didn’t owe him anything, at least in his own mind. Certainly not more than Shane owed him. He’d even tried to escape. He should kiss his gift and anything else he could want away. But he had to try. 

“Why do you ask so much, my love?” Ilya asked him, calm as ever. 

“You want me to behave there, right?” Shane asked rhetorically. “I just think if it’s not a surprise, I’m less likely to freak out there!” 

The idea of having a panic attack wasn’t just a tactic; it was a real possibility. He had no idea where he’d be taking him. What if he was pimping him off? Or taking him to some torture chamber? Or what if this was some big party where all the people he loved would have to see him like this?!

The thought alien made his hands shake, something Ilya noticed and gave in to. 

“Fine,” He told her. “We are going to an appointment laser tech.” 

Shane frowned, still shaky, but more confused than worried. “My eyesight isn’t that bad…” 

“No, sweetness,” Ilya laughed. “Not that kind of lazer.” 

“Then what kind?” Shane demanded. 

“Hair removal,” He said like it was the most natural thing int the world. 

“....what?” 

“Shayna, my love, you must have known this was coming,” Ilya continued. “You atre beautiful girl-” 

“Then why can’t I keep my hair?” 

Ilya sighed, shaking his head. Shane wouldn’t get it, would he? It was part of why he needed Ilya so badly to take care of him. 

“You will be fine,” Ilya expressed. “Is very European to get rid of all excess hair like arms and legs and such.” 

Shane’s hands shot right to his arms. He didn’t wanna sya goodbye to the hair there, even if he was never quite ‘attached’ to it. It was about the fact it wasn’t his say. It was the fact that it was fine there. It was the fact that all the other guys had hair there. 

Lazer was like… super permanent if done right. Even if he escaped, he was sure to be chipred to death for his girly legs and arms. 

No, no, no… this is too permanent to escape later. 

“Ilya, no.” He shook his head frantically as he looked over at him, still protectively holding his arms. 

“Is not your say?” Ilya simply told him back. 

“But…but can’t I just be a Canadian girl for you?” Shane asked. “Lots of girls in Canada have hair on their arms!” 

“Shane,” He tried to warn. 

But Shane was panicking and doing anything he could to be free of this demand. Hell, he wasn’t even begging to be a man anymore; he would settle for a hairier girl. 

“I’ll shave!” Shane tried to bargain. “Every day!” 

“Baby, you have much more important things to do every day than that.” 

“No, I really fucking don’t!” 

“Stop cursing!” Ilya’s voice rose for the first time since they’d started in the car. “If I want to do this for my wife, then I will do this for my wife, got it?”

Shane’s breath caught in a half-sob of realization that Ilya wasn’t going to negotiate shit. This was escape or face the consequences. This was never going back. This was purely panic-inducing. 

“Get yourself together,” Ilya told Shane as he pulled into the parking lot to what must be the place. “Then we will go in.” 

“I can’t-” 

Ilya grabbed his chin and looked at her. 

“You can and you will,” Ilya said. “Remember, you have swet prize waiting for you if you do this.” 

“But-but I tried to get out the door…” Shane explained, unsure why that was still on the table. 

Ilya shook his head. “Deal was to be good at the appointment, not on the way.” 

Maybe Ilya really wanted to give him the gift. Maybe he really wanted a reason for Shane to still behave. Shane had no clue, but his breathing was slow as he looked into eyes that truly said you’re okay, even when it didn’t feel like it. 

“O-Okay…” Shane said, knowing that no matter what he wanted to do- behave or not- he’d need to at least be allowed out of the car. 

“Okay?” Ilya smiled, leaning in for a kiss that Shane hesitantly returned. 

He breathed out, readying himself. “Yeah,” he told him. “Okay.”

Chapter Text

Ilya had helped Shane put his boots on, a bit hard to do in a crammed car for one person. Shane liked the fact that they covered more of him than not, as well as the warmth they provided, but that's where it ended. 

They had a block heel on them, not too big for anyone who had ever worn a heel even once in their life, but Shane was not someone who ever had. It intimidated him a lot. He knew before he even got out of the car that he wanted Ilya’s help, and what was Ilya if not attentive and eager to do just that? 

Ilya came around the side to his door and offered him an outreached hand. Shane took it as he stood up, discovering that the heels weren’t actually that bad. At least not at this height. It almost felt like a more secure, one-sided hockey skate. 

“You got it?” Ilya asked him. 

“Yeah…” Shane expressed as he stepped far enough away for Ilya to close his car-door for him. 

“Good,” Ilya told him, not letting go of his hand and starting to gently guide him to the establishment. 

That’s when Shane got a look at the place. It looked like a nice, high-quality place with clean windows and plants around the outside. There was a sign in the front that advertised the business, as well as some signs by the front door advertising what they offered. 

Shane knew what they offered, though, and he didn’t want any of it. 

He knew he told Ilya ‘okay,’ but what was he supposed to say? The car was suffocating and he needed out. Now that he was out, he could panic again for the reasons he originally wanted to. And he wasted no time. 

His breathing sped up with his heart rate as he was pulled closer and closer. No. He couldn’t just walk in. He couldn’t just accept it under the guise of some prize. Screw the prize, this was his body! His life! Didn’t he understand this was too far? This was permanent!

If he didn’t fight now, what was the difference between him just accepting it and walking in? Nothing was. And he wouldn’t accept this. 

Shane’s eyes darted from the place to where their hands met. It was wrong. So wrong. So wrong that he needed to pull as hard as he could to break free. 

“No!” Shane said as Ilya continued to drag him, pulling down on the hold he had, and feeling as some of Ilya’s hand slipped out of his. 

Only some. 

Regretfully, Ilya was stronger and probably anticipating another outburst, even if he hoped for his wife to behave a bit better in public. Ilya’s hand gripped so hard onto the remainder of Shane’s hand that Shane winced in pain as he was tugged back, Ilya’s other arm tight around his body, pressed to his front. 

“Let me go!” He begged, breathing still a mess. 

“No!” Ilya spat in his ear. “Now settle the fuck down!” 

Shane wasn’t used to Ilya cursing, but the tone, regardless of the words, sliced right through him. He only panicked and struggled more. 

“Keep on acting like this, and it won’t just be you I hurt!” Ilya threatened. 

Shane heard him and, without any care for how he’d hurt him, noticed he was threatening other people too. Probably the people Shane cared about. Innocent people, just like him, who deserved none of this. 

Sick monster. 

Ilya felt how Shane stopped most of his movements in his arms. Good. It was working. 

“It would be real shame if something happened to someone you loved just because you couldn’t stop being a brat for one stupid little laser session, wouldn’t it?” 

“But…but I don’t want it…” Shane cried, giving one more sloppy tug to the arms around him, not surprised to see they didn’t budge. 

“Well, do you want the people you love hurt?” 

“No! Of course not!” Shane exclaimed. “You don’t have to do either! You can let me go, or you can just take me home! Take me home, Ilya, hold me, and love me for me!” he couldn’t believe he was fighting for crumbs of his dignity and not all of it, but desperate times called for it. 

“I do love you for you,” Ilya promised him. “But this is not a negotiation, and if I have to break a few bones just to treat my girl, I will…. Now final answer is that what you want?” 

Shane felt a tear slip down his face as he pictured the people he loved being hurt because of him. Because of Ilya, too, but because he chose that as the lesser of two evils. 

Hair was hair. And family was family. How could he ever live with himself if he chose to protect his hair over real, loving, and innocent people? 

“Fine…” Shane became putty in his hold, not fighting. “You win.” 

He always won. 

Shane could feel Ilya’s smile in his ear, even without seeing it. Was he happy he didn’t need to hurt anyone? Or happy Shane was back to the compliant little wife he dreamed of before stealing for himself? 

The worst part was that Shane thinks it’s genuine. A real smile. Something he doesn’t even realize he shouldn’t have at a time like this. His brain, his mind, his whole system was so fucked up, Shane had to remind himself sometimes he wasn’t dealing with someone who felt sane in any way. Probably why none of his pleas worked. 

Ilya moved his body away from his and just took his hand to guide him inside. A bell rang over their heads, and a girl in her late twenties was at the front desk. 

“Hello!” She smiled, not catching Shane’s tone. “How can I help you?” 

“Appointment for Rozanova,” He explained as he kissed their joint hands. “My lovely wife.” 

The woman looked up and down at Shane, clearly trying to make sense of the modge-podge of gender going on. But she seemed to let it go. They did all types of bodies, and who was she to judge them? 

“Alright, I see you have scheduled a full body treatment, which is pretty much everything from the face down, is that correct?” 

“Yes, although I spoke with the owner and she said we could also use the laser to shape her brows a bit more femininely?” 

Shane almost scoffed. His brows, too? Really? 

“Oh yeah, we can totally do that!” She noted something in the computer as she spoke. 

She made eye contact with Shane, and he wondered if Ilya could really hurt his family if he just screamed for help right now. Surely she’d call the cops if he did, right? And surely Ilya would be jailed, not free to kill and maim? ….but if not? 

Holy fuck, he was really going to let this happen, wasn’t he? 

He’d never be able to look at himself again. A total coward who was too scared and let themselves get trapped in this to get out of it. He hated himself now, only slightly less than if his family were to pay for his actions. 

The woman typed a few more things in he computer, and then guided them to the back of the business where they did the laser treatments. 

“Is this going to hurt?” Shane asked, gulping over the whole setup and how it intimidated him. 

Ilya squeezed his hand, as if to comfort him, but all Shane could feel was the fact that he still wouldn’t let go. Would he stay the whole appointment? Like some sick ticket to the chaos he created? 

“Well, it’s not gonna tickle,” She joked, as if Shane found any of this funny. “But you’ll be okay.”

Shane’s eyes widened as he looked at it more and more, trying to figure out anything that could save him now and finding absolutely nothing. 

“Are you okay?” The woman asked as she cleaned down the surface he was meant to lie on. 

Another squeeze from Ilya’s hand, this one more of a warning than a comfort. As if the first one really ever comforted him in the first place. 

When Shane didn’t know what to say, Ilya spoke up. 

“She is just nervous,” He explained. “That’s why I told her I would stay by her side.” 

“Aww,” The worker reacted. “You must be one lucky girl to have a man like him, huh?” 

Shane’s mouth went into a thin smile as he could hold back his teeth clenching in. His eyes stung, but he didn’t let tears fall. He just nodded stiffly, at this point just wanting to get this over with so he could be away from it all. 

The lady started the appointment by telling Shane about the place and the fact that they were the only laser hair removal salon in the whole of Boston with the latest technology in the field. 

Probably why Ilya picked it. 

She then explained that because of this, the lasers they had were stronger than others. It might hurt a little more than the average machine, but it only took one time to remove the hair for good. 

If this intro was meant to help Shane, it didn’t. It did the opposite. 

Then they started the appointment, Shane laying down with Ilya and the woman overhead. He felt like he was in a horror movie, on some experiment board, and he hated it. 

The best thing he could do was close his eyes, and when it got too much, let himself cry. Let him mourn. But never seek comfort from Ilya again. He was wrong to ever do it before, but especially now. Even if he needed it badly… just don’t. 

They worked from the bottom to top, giving small breaks at different parts, making it feel like it took forever. 

Partway through the appointment, the woman asked Shane to undress. They finished the legs and the feet, and now she needed the middle of him. But Shane didn’t want to undress. He was in a cage, for god sake! 

Ilya gave him a look, though, and it spoke every threat imaginable. He really had found his weakness. As an only child, his family meant everything to him. Why couldn’t Ilya leave them alone and play fair? Threaten Shane instead. 

With a few more tears, he undressed, all the way down to nothing, unable to meet the eyes of anyone. 

‘“Here, baby,” Ilya told him, moving closer. “I’ll get the cage.” 

If there was anything more embarrassing than getting de-caged by Ilya in front of some worker who made a comment about how much they must trust eachother, he had no idea what it was. 

Shane’s tears welled up, and he only cried harder. 

“It’s okay,” Ilya told him, cage now off, wiping at his tears. “I’ll put it back on when it’s over.” 

Yeah, because that’s totally why he was crying. 

The rest of the appointment took forever, but eventually passed. Shane didn’t know what to think or say when it was done. He hated how he felt, and he hated everything and everyone he could see. 

Ilya helped him redress and re-cage and he didn’t even fight it. He didn’t cry anymore. He didn’t look at him or even talk. 

His mouth couldn’t find the words, and his brain didn’t wanna work to find them either. He just wanted to shut down, hoping that if he did for long enough, he’d just wither away. 

“You were so good,” Ilya kissed him on the lips when they were all situated and ready to leave. “I love you so much.” 

Shane didn’t speak, still having no desire to give Ilya even the words from his mouth after what he did. But he did have one thought. One final thought stuck to him like glue. 

He followed him out of the salon and knew it would never change, no matter how hard he pushed him. 

Ilya Rozanov, I hate you.

Chapter Text

Shane hadn’t spoken in over a day. Almost two. 

It started as a way for him to try to zone out, heal, and find peace within himself, away from the monster that was Ilya Rozanov. But it continued because he noticed how much it bothered Ilya to be given the silent treatment. 

He never threatened Shane. Never punished him for not speaking. Instead, he tried things to get him to speak. Every time it failed, and he saw the look of defeat (even temporarily) on Ilya’s face, Shane felt powerful. 

He might never talk again if he saw fit, in fact. 

It didn’t stop things. He still ate, he still bathed, he still did the important things that it took to survive. He wasn’t trying to die, just step away, after all. Ilya even continued to fuck him, begging him the whole time he fucked him to just give him something. 

He might have fought off some moans, but any words for Ilya were far from his tongue. After all, if you have nothing nice to say, you shouldn’t say anything at all, right? That was just manners. And Ilya wanted his wife to be the perfect lady, so how could he even object? 

Shane was staying strong, not even letting his face tell his emotions aside from pure disgust. But this morning, he woke up to something different. 

Ilya was hovering over him with a needle in hand. 

Shane’s eyes went wide. He was sure it was his medicine, whatever the hell that was. But it’d been a week since he had it, he should have seen it coming. It was still just as scary as the first time. 

He bit his tongue so he wouldn’t speak, backing up in the bed like a cornered little kitten. He almost even felt like hissing. 

“Shane, don’t make this hard,” Ilya spoke, calm, but seemingly waiting for a reaction more than he’d gotten from him the past few days. 

Shane swallowed as he reached the edge of his chain, unable to back away anymore, and almost falling off the bed anyway. 

“It didn’t hurt you the first time, did it?” Ilya coaxed him. “You’ll be fine. I would never do this if it hurt.” 

Just like the laser hair removal didn’t ‘hurt’ him, right? 

Ilya came only closer as he positioned the needle above Shane’s thigh. He winced and prayed to a God who clearly either hated him or didn’t exist as the needle dug into his flesh, and it was injected in. 

His hand went to his thigh, where he had just injected, holding it, like he could do anything about it now. Ilya moved his hand away quickly, and before Shane could figure out what he was doing, he saw him place a kiss there, as if it would make it all better. 

“Alright, one more thing,” Ilya told Shane, not backing away or leaving as Shane continued to hope and dream of. “This one goes in your mouth.” 

Shane was taken aback by that, hand back on his thigh, scrubbing off Ilya’s kiss as he looked to him in question. But could he question it? On one hand, he loved that the silence hurt him. On the other hand, what if not speaking up hurt Shane? 

“Wh-” Shane fell off the word into a fit of coughs, his mouth dry from not speaking. “What is it?” 

“You don’t need to worry.” 

“Yes, I do,” Shane told him. “I always worry, I’m Shane Hollander.”

“Shane Rosanova….” He corrected

Shane just rolled his eyes.

“Can’t you trust me?” Ilya gave him a look. 

Shane gave him a look right back that didn’t match what he’d hoped for. But at least he was talking. Ilya missed her sweet, sweet voice. 

“Fine,” Ilya sighed, shoving off the little capsule. “I called the doctor, and they recommended you take these pills for your libido.”

Shane’s eyes got even wider. “My libido?!” 

“Yes,” Ilya said. “I want us to be on the same level, I want you to need me as much as I need you.”

“I-” 

“I think you’ve only climaxed like… once,” Ilya continued to explain. 

“That’s because you cage me!” Shane shouted back, not believing this was real. 

Shane stopped fighting when he wanted to get intimate. Why couldn’t that be enough? Why did he need to need Ilya as badly as he needed Shane? Shane didn’t want to want him any more than he already did, which was already too much considering he was supposed to hate him. (He just couldn’t hate that body).

“Just take it!” Ilya was growing impatient. 

“No!” Shane stayed retreated on the top side of the bed where he was furthest from Ilya and his stupid libido pills. 

Luckily for Shane, he had power here. It wasn’t an injection. Shane could simply keep his mouth closed. In fact, that's all he was focused on as Ilya crawled onto the bed to get closer. 

“Open,” Ilya told him. 

Shane shook his head no, clenching his jaw as tight as he could. 

Ilya rolled his eyes. She was a brat, but she was worth it. And she would be more than worth it once she got these meds and continued to fall further into the lifestyle he created for them. 

“I said, open!” He lightly smacked the inside of Shane’s thigh, hoping to make him gasp at the stinging against his skin. 

It didn’t work. So there was a backup plan. A foolproof one. 

Ilya reached out to grab Shane’s pretty little nose and held the nostrils closed in his grasp. Shane would need to breathe. That or pass out. And he’d never let himself do that. It was a natural instinct that he’d need to breathe. And he’d open his mouth to do just that. 

Shane squirmed and writhed against the hold. If he could get off of him, if he could just keep one thing away from him in the whole messed-up bunch of things, maybe he’d feel better. 

But soon his head hurt with how lightheaded he was, and he had to gasp for air. Ilya jumped on the opportunity and shoved the pill inside, closing his mouth and covering it with his hand. 

“Swallow!” Ilya told him. “Swa-llow.”

He continued to writh under his heavy hand. He wasn’t going to uncover his mouth until he swallowed, though. He’d do this all day. 

Fuck. 

Shane felt himself almost choke as Ilya used the hold on him to tilt his head back, making the pill go to the back of his throat. At that point, it was swallow or choke. 

He swallowed it as he needed to, and once again, Ilya won. 

Ilya went to pull his hand away, and Shane chased it for a second, hoping to bite the sensitive skin of his palm. Ilya was quicker, though. 

“Fiesty,” Ilya commented, like he was training a wild animal. 

Ilya reached over on the bedside table and grabbed some water he’d left there for Shane. He could use the water now more than ever, and it was the first thing that day Shane had accepted without any reluctance or distrust from Ilya. 

Shane took a sip of the water and then handed it back, arms crossed and stubborn as before. 

“Next time you take meds, remember, they’re good for you, you don’t wanna fight them.” 

“You mean I don’t want a fight with you?” Shane’s brow perked at the question.

“If you’re smart, no,” Ilya smirked, half-joking but not wrong. 

Shane shuffled away from the edge of the bed and watched as Ilya moved around the room. He seemed so confident and free, even when Shane acted up. He must still be expecting it. 

“Look,” Ilya eventually said, coming back to the bed. “I know you have been struggling since the appointment.” 

No, shit. 

“So I figured I would give you your present anyway,” Ilya explained. 

Shane wasn’t sure if it was a trick or not. Sure, he threatened him, but he’d also offered a gift. There had to be a gift. It had to exist. But he just figured he’d never see it. Not be offered it days later regardless of what happened. 

When Shane didn’t openly object, Ilya headed out of the room and down the hall to get the gift for her. Shane couldn’t even guess and frankly didn’t want to. Ilya said he’d like it… hopefully it wasn’t just more deluded bullshit. 

Ilya came back into the room, and Shane saw it instantly. It actually lit him up more than he ever thought possible after what happened at the salon. 

In Ilya’s hand was a rolled-up mat. 

A yoga mat! 

God, Shane missed yoga. He missed simply having any exercise that wasn’t sex with Ilya. He was so active. He ran, he lifted weights, he cycled, he skated, he did everything he could to keep his body fit, and the last week he’d been tied to a bed almost the whole time! 

Ilya didn’t lie. This gift was amazing. It was just what he should have realized he needed sooner. 

Ilya looked at Shane’s smile and questioned if his wife even knew she was lit up like a christmas tree with joy. He did right by her. He got her the perfect gift that she’d have to love him for. Right? 

“You got me a yoga mat?” Shane asked, even though he knew what it was. 

“Yes,” Ilya smiled. “You have not been active recently, and I want to keep you healthy… and flexible.” He winked at the end. 

Shane couldn’t even be mad about it. It was exercise. It was relaxation. It was familiar. 

“Thank you!” Shane said as he went to reach for it, up on his knees on the bed. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” Ilya held it back from him, a teasing smirk. “Thank you who?” 

“Thank you Ilya?” 

“No… say thank you daddy,” Ilya retrained him. 

Shane stilted, but then recovered. His voice was small and unsure as he spoke. “Thank you… daddy.” he gave in. 

Ilya tapped his lips with his freehand, and didn’t stop until Shane leaned over to peck him on the lips.

The idea of fighting made him more panicky than giving in. He needed this yoga mat. How would he ever escape if he couldn’t keep up his fitness? If he sat in bed forever, he’d become a pile of mush with no chance! This gift was multidimensional and he needed all sides of it to prosper. 

“It was not just my idea you know,” Ilya told him. “I was very excited at the idea of seeing you in all these different poses, I think my dick did half the convicning.” 

If it was meant to be charming, Shane didn’t see it. He didn’t even know what to say. 

“You should say thank you to him too,” Ilya instructed, tapping right over the zipper in his pants. 

Shane looked from him down to the small bulge already forming there. He still didn’t think it was a good idea to fight, no matter how degrading this was. He’d done worse with his dick than kiss it over the clothing he wore. He’d live. But not without his yoga mat; already attached to it like a child with a blanket in hope. 

“Thank you daddy’s-daddy’s cock,” Shane forced himself to say with a tight lipped smile, bending down to kiss the man in the front of his pants, right where his arousal bloomed. 

Ilya smiled down at him like she was perfect. 

Times like this reminded him she was perfect. 

And maybe he didn’t deserve her, but he had her, and he was going to bask in every moment of it until he couldn’t bask anymore. 

“Alright then,” Ilya clapped his hands. “Whose ready for some yoga?” 

Shane gave the first genuine smile he’d given in a while and watched as Ilya unrolled the mat. It was a purple color, with good padding and a texture he was sure would help his grip. 

Ilya laid it out on the floor, right in the middle of the room. All that Shane was waiting on was for him to unchain him. Then he’d finally have a little bit of comfort and a little bit of a reminder of home in this place that was far, far from it.

Chapter Text

“So are you going to show off some of your sexy yoga poses for me?” Ilya asked him as they crossed paths, his hand coming out to slap Shane’s bare ass as he did. 

Shane stilled, only for a moment, reacting to the smack on his ass and then walking forward more to his yoga mat. 

“You’re going to watch?” Shane asked him, not expecting as much. 

“Is your first time in room unchained, I cannot leave you alone just yet,” Ilya explained. “Next time we will see.” 

Shane grimaced, but he figured it wasn’t worth a fight. It was one time. And if he pushed back, it might become zero times. 

“Do you have any workout clothes I can wear?” Shane asked, used to his shorts, sweats, or dri-fit tops. Hell, at this point, though, he’d settle for whatever Ilya wore when he worked out. At least then it wasn’t feminine. 

“Not this time,” Ilya told him. “Is better show without clothes.” 

Shane should have figured. This wasn’t just a reward for him. It was a reward for Ilya. He got something out of it. ‘A show,’ he’d called it, like he was some bendy stripper and not trying to do real mindfulness and exercise. 

Ilya sat back and made himself comfortable in the one chair they had in the room, pulling it closer to the mat, right between it and the windows. The sun was in the perfect place to light them both up. Ilya’s mouth was practically watering. 

Shane seemed to hesitate as he stepped onto the mat, and Ilya noticed it. 

“What is it, baby?” He asked. “You do not want to exercise?” 

“No, I do I just-”

“You know this is safest way to exercise with baby in you.” Ilya continued talking, stuck in his own head with his own wishes, it seemed. 

No part of Shane was motivated to go forward once he heard that part of this, at least to Ilya, was about the baby. The baby that they had no proof could even exist if he wanted it to. Shane had never been given any kind of okay from the doctor or anything. For all he knew, he was infertile. 

Ilya probably didn’t even want to know. Probably wanted to live in his fantasy for a while before he either figured out he could have it or not. Blindly blissful, to him, there was no question or ‘if’. There was just do. 

Shane wondered what would happen if he couldn’t get pregnant. Of course, from Shane’s end, he’d be happy. But from Ilyas? Shane was worried. 

What if Ilya blamed him? Yelled at him to no end until his throat hurt, and Shane was a mess. What if Ilya hurt him? What if he hurt him so badly that he never recovered? What if he killed him? What better fate for the man who killed his family and couldn’t even replace it? After all, he was just a broken toy if that was the case, right? 

Because what was so special about Shane that he had to have him? He could replace him with someone better, more feminine, and more fertile if he saw fit. 

Shane was probably disposable. He just hoped that when he was, he’d be cast aside and not buried alive under it all. 

Shane’s whole body shuddered, and he needed to stop thinking of it. Even if that meant going back to the world he was in and outside of his head. The world where he could feel Ilya’s eyes on his body like glue. 

“Alright, what is first sexy pose for your tight little body to show off for me?” Ilya leaned back, watching as Shane seemed to get into first position. 

“Ilya…” Shane glared at him. 

“What?” Ilya asked. “You can’t handle my attention? Scared I will say dirty things and get you hard?” 

“No!” 

“Mmm, I think yes,” Ilya read him like a book, sure, nothing probably scared him more right now than getting hard at Ilya’s words and eyes. 

“I’m not gonna get hard doing yoga!” Shane fought back. 

“Then how about we make bet?” Ilya asked him. 

Shane’s brow shot up. Ilya had made a lot of demands, but never a bet. He had to admit he was intrigued. 

“What bet?” 

“If you go whole yoga session without getting hard, I won’t touch you at all today,” Ilya told him, already catching Shane’s breath. “But if you do, you let me fuck you in whatever yoga pose I want.” 

Shane swallowed. Yoga sex was not something he’d ever done. He did a lot of yoga in his life, but Ilya was the first sex he ever had. Did other people do that? Was that normal? Would he even like it?

Stop. He was thinking about liking it. He couldn’t. He shouldn’t. He needed to stop associating Ilya with sex and not sexual assault. It didn’t matter what his body said… it couldn’t… right? 

The idea of winning this bet, though, that was something that all parts of him agreed would be powerful. He could show Ilya that he doesn’t always win. That Shane doesn’t bedn to his every will. That he didn’t get hard from him, but his actions. 

Shane didn’t like Ilya, and Ilya had to learn that. 

Plus, would that mean he could take his cage off of him for the yoga? Shane wanted that, fond of any break he could get from it. 

“Cage off and all?” Shane asked, a bit breathy. 

“Sure,” Ilya said, already standing up. “Can’t expect your little clit to get too hard if it’s caged, right?” 

“...right.” Shane just went along with it, standing straight and stiff as Ilya fumbled with the key and worked the cage open. 

Ilya held the cage parts in his hand and sat back down, looking at them and then Shane. 

“Feels better taking it off without all the hair in the way, right?” He asked him. 

Shane’s teeth clenched. He’d suffer through it if he could have his hair back, at least eventually. But no. But he nodded, hoping to keep the other happy for the moment. 

“Okay, now just pretend I’m not here, do what you’d normally do.” Ilya got comfortable in his chair again, both his eyes on Shane’s body, unwavering. 

Shane figured he might as well. Why wait? This was good for him, too. 

Shane started simple with some stretching just to get his muscles ready for all the forms he’d take. Over his head, bending at the knee, turning his body just to loosen up. 

Then he started with something easy. He sat down with his legs out and his head down in a head-to-knee position, letting himself stretch more on the first pose as well. 

It felt great to do yoga again. It felt great to really stretch his body. The freest he’d felt in these four walls since he got here. 

“Damn, любовница, you really are flexible,” Ilya spoke up. 

Shane imagined this was better for Ilya than any movie out there. That he’d prefer to have his feet up with some popcorn in hand. But all he did was do what he’d learned he did best; kept quiet. 

He moved into a seated forward bend, then into a bridge, lifting his hips up to stretch parts of himself that would otherwise go untouched. 

He learned quickly that Ilya really liked it when he did that. 

“God, your hips are so grabable,” Ilya told him. “And your sweet little clit on top? I mean, you are killing me.” 

Shane’s legs were closed as best they could. The last thing he needed was his vagina on display for him to drool over. The last thing he needed was the cool air where he was, without trying to, starting to get wet. 

Maybe it wasn’t even the words, maybe it was the attention. It was so intimate. He felt so exposed. 

He moved into a frog position from there, still hoping to work his hips a bit more. The way Ilya liked to fold him up and fuck into him, they could use a good stretch. 

But it only meant he was on display for Ilya even more. The other had no words now, using a wolf whistle to share his endearment, making blood rush to Shane’s face in pure embarrassment, and hopefully nowhere else. 

Shane was on one part, happy that he made no comment to one of the most obscene positions he was in. On the other hand, it still spoke to him. 

He wondered if he could just tune him out, but it became impossible as he moved through more poses. Eventually, he placed himself into a upward facing dog from a sphinx. And it revealed more than just his body. 

“Would you look at that?” Ilya smiled devilishly. “You are halfway there.” 

“What?” Shane asked the room, turning his head down to look at himself. 

Fuck. 

Yeah, he was appearing pretty damn hard for being untouched. Of course, he’d rub up against the mat a few times, and there was all the other stuff that Ilya had to do with him, but… but it wasn’t because he wanted Ilya or that his words turned him on. It was just… nature. Right? Even if it felt a bit more than it. 

“Go ahead,” Ilya encouraged. “Go into next position.” 

Shane paused for a second, closing his eyes, willing it away, but when he looked again, it was the same as before. Surely that had to count, right? Damnit. He wanted the win more than he ever wanted the prize. 

He let out a small whimper as he moved himself up more into a wide-legged forward bend, where he could keep watch on himself. 

But it didn’t matter what he saw. Ilya had seen enough. Halfhard before being called out and now fully hard as Ilya looked at him, knowing that he was. Did that mean he had a humiliation kink? He couldn’t try to fathom that right now. 

He heard Ilya get up and saw two bare feet come behind him and grab his waist. They were so big and cold, he groaned, loud and long, like he wanted more of it. 

Ilya smiled down at him. “This position looks so nice,” he told him, taking his finger and running it from his hole to the tip of his clit, making Shane mewl. 

“You must be so happy to get some time with me outside your cage, huh?” Ilya asked rhetorically. “I’m just happy to know you’re happy too.” 

Shane wanted to tell him he wans’t happy, but that would be at least partially a lie. Because Ilya’s hands, and this angle? They were a recipe for disaster. He wanted more. He wanted to cum, right here, right now, without any care for any restraint that he had tried to hold onto before. 

“This position keeps your lips so nice and open,” Ilya told him, pulling his finger up from his clit to his slit. 

Shane cried, missing the contact on his dick. 

Ilya continued to tocuh all around him until Shane was shaking, trying his best to hold his pose and keep taking it all. He loved to tease, but that was enough. 

“This might be the best bet I ever won,” Ilya said as he got down to line himself up with Shane, using the chair for some support at the awkward angle. “I get gorgeous pussy and a show, what more could I want?” 

Shane screamed a bit, high-pitched as Ilya pushed into him, his palms on fire. Shane, at this angle, felt so full, and Ilya was not being gentle at all. Thank god he wasn’t, Shane wanted this over quickly so he could denny he ever cried for it. 

“Can-Can you-” 

“Can I what?” Ilya asked, breathing heavier with each thrust. 

“Touch my-my clit,” He spoke, knowing calling it his dick would get him nowhere fast. 

He hung his head in shame for a moment, but then, Ilya’s calloused, large hands were rubbing circles into his clit, and it was so good he could cry. So good he could cum. In fact, all it took was a minute of that before he was. 

Shane cried out, collapsing on his hands as his pussy clenched and unclenched around Ilya’s large shaft over and over again. He felt Ilya pull forward, shocked, but turned on as he came in him right after. 

Shane’s head laid on the mat as Ilya laid on top of him. 

“Holy fuck, that was perfect,” Ilya said. “You really wanted that.” 

“Shut up,” Shane said back, trying to hold onto his dignity. 

“It’s okay to like it, Shane,” Ilya spoke to him, gentle and sincere. 

Shane was having none of it, though, spitting back, “No, it’s not! And I didn’t, it was just the stupid meds you gave me!” 

Ilya sat back and let himself fall out of Shane’s abused hole, watching as cum leaked out after him, tucking some of it back in in the hopes that if the boy wasn’t pregnant, he could get there with this. 

“Really?” Ilya asked him, sounding skeptical. 

“Really,” Shane told him, confident. 

“Well, the pill I gave you doesn’t kick in for 24 hours, so… you might want to either give in to loving our sex, or come up with better excuse.” 

With that, Ilya stepped away from the puddle of mess he’d made of Shane and back to sitting fully on his chair. 

Shane was frozen, his breath uneven still. “You’re lying,” he accused. 

“Have I lied to you yet, babygirl?” 

Shane thought about it for a moment, and as far as he knew, no, he hadn’t lied to him yet. He had some delusions, but never lies. Which had to mean one thing. 

Shane was being worn down, even without the medicine, from opposing Ilya’s touch, to knowing it, and then falling in love with the sex they had.

Fuck… that was bad. 

But he could still fight it. It wasn’t over, even if it might only get harder. And at least, he could say he didn’t fall for Ilya himself. Because if that ever happened, then it’d be game over for sure. And he wouldn’t let that happen.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Shane woke up to the feeling of Ilya’s hands on him, which was starting to become routine. He always knew they’d be on him, but he never knew exactly where on his body they’d be. Today, it seemed Ilya had one hand under his waist and the other hand centered over the lower part of his belly. 

It actually kinda felt nice, considering his stomach was bothering him a little bit. He rarely felt sick, but maybe all the anxiety was finally catching up to him and eating him alive. 

A wave of more pain went through him, and he groaned, pulling his legs up higher to his chest in a trick that sometimes lessened his pain. He tried to just lay there and find some peace. Forget about the many other issues and just focus on this. 

He laid there another five minutes, going through the mild pain, doing his best to breathe through it. The warm hand on his stomach, he almost wish would just start rubbing. Maybe even kneading at the skin there in the hopes it would help. 

Another wave came, a bit stronger, and Shane couldn’t help but try to readjust completely. It meant that Ilya’s hand moved, but instead, he found all the warmth of Ilya’s body pressed to him as he groaned into his neck, subsequently waking the other up. 

“Hmmm?” Ilya asked, still sleepy, stretching his arms out. 

He looked down and saw Shane was clenching his eyes closed, pressed against him, even using his one hand to cling to his chain and keep him close. That wasn’t normal. And while he’d love to think he had come around overnight, he wasn’t that stupid. Something was wrong. 

“Shanya?” Ilya asked gently as he looked down at him. “What is wrong?” 

Shane just groaned, further pushing himself into Ilya’s hold. Ilya instantly knew it had to be bad if he was doing that, but a selfish part of him also wanted to just appreciate how clingy he was, regardless of it. 

One day, he’d have this, no questions asked. 

“Talk to me, please,” Ilya asked, moving his hand up to Sahne’s cheek and pulling him away enough to look at him. 

His face was so scrunched and pained, he’d never seen it like that before. Maybe on the ice it’d appear behind the helmet, but that wasn’t something he knew Shane for. Certainly never saw it since he came here, even when he was in pain mentally. 

Was it physical? He couldn’t help him if he didn’t know. He needed to get Shane to speak to him. 

“Shane, baby, breathe,” He told him, stroking his cheek, showing him how to breathe through it as he did, watching him imitate him as well. “Talk to me.” 

“Hurts…” Shane mumbled as he tried to hide back in his neck. Ilya didn’t let him. 

“What hurts?” 

“Mmm,” Shane groaned a little more. “My stomach.” 

Ilya frowned, never wanting his sweet girl to feel pain. He wasn't exactly sure how he could best help, though, as stomach aches had a mind of their own. 

For starters, he could stay with him, so he grabbed his wife in a hug and snuggled further under the covers, making sure Shane was pressed up nice against him and that he could comfort him. 

He started to rub her back and whisper soft, nice thoughts, but Shane seemed to have an idea of his own. He reached up and grabbed Ilya’s one hand, bringing it under the covers and over his lower belly. 

“Does that make it feel better?” Ilya asked him. 

Shane just nodded, lying half on top of Ilya, unsure he even cared what he was doing as long as he felt better. He was such a baby when it came to pain, and he knew it. He didn’t wanna be alone. 

Ilya started to rub his stomach instead and continued sending praise straight to his ear. 

“You’re okay, my love, is just a stomach ache,” Ilya told him. “You will feel better soon, and then you will forget this ever even happened, okay?” 

Shane made a noise of agreement, even if he was a bit stubborn about actually believing it. 

“It’s true,” Ilya told him. “Besides, this is nothing compared to contractions. Will be good practice for both of us to make sure you are okay, lovely.” 

Shane made a higher-pitched noise, and Ilya realized that while the idea of the baby was comforting to him, it wasn’t to Shane. He couldn’t help but relate the baby to everything, though. He already loved them, and they might not even exist. Although he had to hope that they did. That they were under the surface he was rubbing right now. 

In fact, it got Ilya thinking. “What if this is like how you say… morning sickness?” 

Ilya was dead serious, and the more real the possibility felt, the more Shane buried himself. He didn’t want that. Not the sickness or anything that came with it. Besides, he hated throwing up. 

“No….” Shane cried. “It’s not!” 

“How do you know?” Ilya asked back, to which all he received was another whine. 

“I’m going to go get a bucket in case you get sick.”

“Nooo!” Shane cried even louder. “Don’t leave me, you’re helping!” 

It was true, as much as he’d hate to admit it later. Whether it was the mental comfort of not being alone and cared for or the physical closeness and warmth, it was doing miracles for the pains. He didn’t wanna lose that for even a second. 

“I have to, angel,” Ilya told him, starting to move over his body, hand down, and balancing between them. “I will be quick.” 

“But-” 

Before Shane could say anything further, Ilya’s hand came up from where he’d been holding himself up and was covered in traces of blood. The pair both looked at it, realizing what it was. 

“Oh fuck… is this what period cramps feel like?” Shane spoke aloud first, never experiencing the cramping before now. 

Ilya’s face stilled, like he had been frozen in time. He didn’t care about the blood on his hand; if it was part of Shane, then it could never be gross. But it could be something else. Like a sign that Shane was not pregnant. 

Shane didn’t even realize the connection until he saw the look on Ilya’s face. 

“Ilya?” He asked him. 

“N-nothing…” Ilya spoke. “I’m fine.” 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Shane shared, sitting up a bit more, wincing as another pain rolled through him. 

“No, I just… wasn’t expecting… I was hoping you’d… I’m sorry,” His voice cracked. “I think I need a second.” 

“Ilya it’s just-” 

“Just a second,” He somehow forced his voice to stay calm, afterall, this wsn’t Shane’s fault. 

Shane watched as Ilya left the room and could only imagine that he was feeling a whirlwind of emotions that opposed his own. Shane was relieved, happy, and frankly hopeful. Meanwhile, Ilya was probably upset, frustrated, and grieving a bit all over again. 

He felt bad for Ilya in a certain way. It must suck to want something so badly and then have it taken from you right before you get it. He imagined a world in which he never escaped, and hockey was his version of the baby. He was lining up to get a stanley cup for god’s sake, right before Ilya took him! 

Ilya took him… he needed to remember that. Sympathy had no room here. Even if an innocent child was involved, both of them could agree didn’t deserve to pay any price. 

Shane had always wished he could take back that night, but right now, seeing the other crack, he imagined it was far worse when he was first told. Selfishly, he was glad he never saw that, because even this was hard. 

He had no idea what to do but wait for Ilya to come back, hoping he wouldn’t snap all over again and take it out on him. 

A few more minutes passed, and Ilya came back, rubbing a hand down his face. When it passed over it, Shane swore he could see that his eyes were red, probably crying a few tears. He approached the bed, unreadable. 

Shane lifted the covers, a bit scared. “You’re not gonna hurt me, right?” 

Ilya seemed even more devastated than before at what Shane said, crying again, shaking his head. “No!” 

“Okay, I just… It’s okay.. Just-” 

“I’m okay…” Ilya told him, fighting back the pain of his hopes being crushed. “Is not the end of the world.” 

“Right…” Shane tried to coax him back into his normal emotions, not liking how vulnerable and human this side of Ilya felt. 

“I mean, we can keep trying, is only one month!” 

“Right…” Shane repeated, this time more reluctant to mean the words. 

“And-and if you got your period, that must mean you have eggs, right?!” Ilya expressed, looking to Shane, hoping he’d tell him that wasn’t a crazy correlation. 

“I…I don’t know,” Shane said, biting his thumbnail nervously. “I just know I get periods sometimes, but they’re never heavy, and they’re never regular.” 

That was news to Ilya, as much as he tried to look into all his medical history, that wasn’t included in it. But it was good news. Shane got periods. Shane had eggs. They just had to fertilize them. 

“I shouldn’t be shocked, really,” Ilya tried to steady himself a bit more, breathing out heavily as he relaxed into the bottom of the bed. “It makes sense you’d get it on time with the medicine.” 

“What?” Shane asked, even though Ilya was more or less talking to himself. 

“Huh?” Ilya looked back. “Oh. Well, the medicine you get every week is estrogen.” 

Shane’s eyes widened dramatically. “Estrogen?!”

“Yes,” Ilya told him. “Will help you be the woman you were always meant to be, and can help with fertility…. Is win win.” 

Shane stared at Ilya like he was crazy. No. He was crazy. Shane knew this now more than ever. How could he have ever felt bad for him? How could he have ever sought comfort from him? Even if he had his reasons, there were always more reasons not to. Ilya being insane was one of them. 

He’d been pumping his body with estrogen! Fucking estrogen! He wasn’t a doctor, but he was pretty sure there were some symptoms of that that weren’t even reversible! 

He was making him his girl from the inside out. 

Holy fuck. 

He wanted to panic, but the second he started to tense, his stomach did and he had to grab it to hold back a full blown cry. 

“It’s okay, Shayna, neither of us likes it,” Ilya told him. “You can cry.” 

Shane didn’t wanna cry, though; he wanted to scream. He balled his fists up in the covers and refused to look at Ilya. He always hated him, so why was the feeling fresh and punching? Why did he ever believe he could let the fire that was his anger dim into something more livable? 

“I hate you…” He said. 

Ilya tsk’d, although he was sure it hurt more than he let show. All Ilya wanted to do was take care of him, so he had to brush it off. He moved over to Shane and picked him up bridal style, like he weighed nothing. 

“Stop!” Shane cried, scrambling in the air. “I’m-fuck- I’m bloody!” 

“I don’t care,” Ilya told him, carrying him into the bathroom. 

Shane struggled until he was put down and instantly distanced himself from Ilya. 

“You are so cute when you are angry for no reason,” Ilya quipped. 

“No reason?!” 

“Here,” Ilya said as he moved over to the cabinets under the sink again, opening a different one and pulling out a box of tampons. “I assume you’ll need a few of these.” 

He wasn’t wrong, but Shane wished he was, just so he could throw them back at them. He grabbed them harshly. 

“Shane,” He chastised. “I wanna help you!” 

“I don’t need-fuck!” Shane bent over, clutching himself and watching a drop of blood fall to the tile. “Fuck….” his voice cracked a bit. 

“Is just blood, we can clean it up,” Ilya told him, already grabbing a washcloth. 

“Not that… the pain!” 

“Then stop being stubborn and let me help you!” Ilya asked him, walking over to him. “It helped first time, right?” 

“Yes,” He spoke with clenched teeth. 

“Then let me help my baby,” Ilya requested, moving a hair behind Shane’s ear. “Truce, just long enough for me to help you.” 

Ilya moved his pinky up, almost like a pinky promise, and put on his charming smile that the ladies all fell for. Shane didn’t wanna fall for it, but was it falling for it if he knew it was just a truce? He wanted the comfort so bad. Was he willing to be stubborn enough when Ilya was going to be all over him anyway? 

“Fine…” Shane said, moving his pinky up as well to give the little truce. “Truce for now only.” 

“Unless you change your mind.” 

“I won’t.” Shane deapanned. 

“Whatever you say,” Ilya smiled adoringly, happy that she agreed to it, picking her up again and this time carrying her into the tub. It wasn't full yet, but it only took a second to start the tap and check the temperature. “This will help.” 

Shane said nothing, just sitting there. Hopefully, no complaining was a good sign. Ilya saw it as one at least. 

Ilya climbed in the tub behind him, putting his arms around him and finding his stomach again. He began to massage it, letting him lean back before the water even filled up halfway. Happy to comfort Shane, and hopeful to the fact that being close to Shane would also comfort him.

Chapter Text

The bath lasted until the water turned cold. Shane was more than happy to continue to block out the world and be molded into any form of comfort that Ilya could provide. And so he let himself be led by a man who had been begging for this chance since the start. 

Ilya took them both out of the bath and dried Shane off, whispering sweet praise to him as he held himself up against Ilya’s frame. The bath helped, but it wasn’t a miracle, and he needed more. 

Ilya instructed Shane to go ahead and put in a tampon while he stripped the bed of the dirty sheets. It was the first time that Shane was ever left in a room alone, even if it was just an en suite, but he couldn’t make use of it in such a mindset, probably why Ilya allowed it. 

Shane took care of what he needed to, and with another wave of pain, blindly sought out Ilya. His hands reached out, only to remember he might as well be a world away in the other room. He whined as he bent forward a bit and then walked out of the bathroom by himself. 

When he appeared back in the room, he locked eyes with Ilya, who tried to just smile at him, even with his own pain still happening. This was about Shane right now, not his grief or disappointment. And that was something he’d never get over if he couldn’t help Shane get to the other side of this. 

Ilya had made sure, while they were in the bath, beyond holding his angel of a wife, he made it the best for him as he could. He cleaned him from head to toe, making it more than just motions, but a full-on massage. Shane was practically purring into his chest the whole time, and he knew he could get him back in the position the second the bed was made anew. 

“One minute, sweetheart,” Ilya told him as he started to unfold the new replacement sheet he had gathered from the closet. “It will be made in just a moment.” 

“I can help,” Shane offered, hoping maybe it’d go faster that way. He was used to making the bed since he’d been here. It’d be no trouble, really. 

“No, no,” Ilya told him, walking back over to Shane and placing his hands on his shoulders to guide him over to the chair across the bed. “You sit and relax, like princess.” 

Shane hung his head a bit, feeling like a china doll as he was catered to. Sure, all Ilya had done that day was pamper him, but this felt further than that. It felt like he was precious. He’d never considered himself precious before, but maybe he was if he needed all this help. 

He could say a lot about Ilya that wasn’t kind, but he was good at caring for him. That was a nonissue. 

He always imagined one day he’d love someone enough that he’d care for them and they’d care back for him, but never this. The love was so one-sided and so weaponized. It made him long for more, but what was he longing for if not exactly what Ilya wanted? He couldn’t want to love him back, even if they were halfway there. 

A few moments later, the bed was made back into its perfect form, and Ilya was coming back to Shane’s side. He didn’t hesitate to grab for Shane, picking him up and carrying him back into the bed with him. He made sure there was plenty of room for Shane to lay however he saw fit, but he chose to lay right beside him. 

Ilya’s heart melted along with Shane’s pain as he continued to cling to him. Ilya had no problem hurting Shane emotionally because, to him, it was all just a stepping stone to the future they’d both love. And when he disciplined him, he knew physically sometimes the other got hurt just to learn the lesson. But this needless pain? This was hard for Ilya, because he couldn’t make it stop any more than he could start it. There was no control, and seemingly, no mercy for his sweet babe. 

He decided to rock Shane, noticing the way the other closed his eyes, probably seeking comfort in more sleep. But it didn’t end there. There were kisses and cuddles all throughout the day. He’d even gotten a heating pad for the boy, along with all the best foods he requested. He was there to feed him, look after him, and do anything else he needed during this time, just like a mama bear with her cub stuck in the nest. 

In fact, Ilya had even forgotten to chain Shane. Neither of them were thinking about it when the other was in a state, and Ilya was happy to see it wasn’t a mistake. Shane was learning, even if it was under special circumstances. Maybe the pain had a purpose after all. 

Later that night, the moonlight peaking into their room, Ilya asked Shane something he felt was important to know. “How long do your periods normally last?” 

Shane’s nose twitched a little as his sleepy brain came to terms with the words, and Ilya thought it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen from the cutest girl he’d ever gotten to know. 

A lot of times, when Ilya sought out things in Shane to admire, he tried to connect them to his past. But all day today, his brain was stuck on Shane, not Svetlana, and he was loving things about Shane that were just uniquely him. It made him feel warm inside, not panicked. It felt right. 

“Just a few days,” Shane mumbled back against his collarbone. 

Ilya nodded, “Good,” he expressed, rubbing his hand down Shane’s back as he curled around him tighter. “Will be over before your birthday then, right?” 

Shane had completely forgotten about his birthday. Not only because of the period cramps that were hitting him like a tsunami, but because he was captured, and everyday was one day closer to escaping, not his birthday! 

When he originally came here, he figured he’d be dead or free by the time his birthday came around, but using his brain to think, he was pretty sure his birthday was a mere 4 days away. And he certainly wouldn’t be gone by then… right? 

He didn’t wanna think about escaping right now, though, or anything really. He just wanted to feel okay. And Ilya did that for him. One day, he’d have someone else to do it, too. Like he’s supposed to. 

A faint bit of fear flashed across him when he wondered how long that’d take, if ever. What if he never found someone who wanted him? He was damaged goods now, after all. Forget hockey, what about a lover? Nobody would love him, and knowing his luck, even if they did, he’d never love them back. Never comfort him like this. 

He needed to know he could move on from Ilya though, so like the other little issues screaming in his mind, he pushed it to the back of his mind where he didn’t have to face it. At least for right now. 

“My birthday…” He mumbled in recognition. 

“Yes, do not think I forgot,” Ilya smiled down at him as his eyes peered open at him. “You will have best birthday.” 

Shane never had bad birthdays, but he had to say he was intrigued about why this one would be the best. At least in Ilya’s mind. 

He opened his mouth to ask questions, and before he could, Ilya clocked him. 

“Is surprise, sunshine,” He told her. “Now, why don’t you try to sleep?” 

Shane groaned, shuffling a bit in Ilya’s hold, getting cooed at from above as he found a new spot to settle in, his elbow tucked under Ilya’s armpit to sit up. 

Ilya looked at him, wondering what was wrong, and Shane whimpered, a bit embarrassed to admit it. 

“You can tell me,” Ilya said. “Whatever it is, I will fix for you.” 

Shane believed him somehow, so he spoke up. 

“I don’t like sleeping naked when I’m on my period,” He pouted. “Get scared i’ll leak.” 

It was embarrassing, but Ilya didn’t make him feel any shame for it. That was nice. 

“Oh, of course,” Ilya agreed way faster than Shane assumed he would, clearly having a soft spot for his doe eyes, he pleaded with. Noted for later. “I can get something for you.” 

“Really?” Shane asked, a bit shocked but relieved. 

“Yes,” Ilya said as he kissed Shane’s forehead, getting up to go get something for her, coaxing her off of his t-shirt. “I want you to be comfortable right now.” 

Shane always assumed Ilya’s ‘love’ was just a bit of obsession mixed with sex appeal. He would have never thought he’d ever want to cover more of his skin if need be. But maybe his love was a bit more complex. After all, Shane didn’t know much about people who tried to cope and went crazy. To be fair, he didn’t know much about Ilya before it all either. Maybe he just loved gracefully, even with his reputation. He had Svetlana for a reason, right? A different reason than he had Shane he assumed. 

“How much do you want?” Ilya asked, over by the one set of drawers Shane knew had things for him inside of. “Are you hot or cold or…?” 

Shane didn’t know what he was. He was comfortable, he thought, at least temperature-wise. One thing he did know, though, was that he wanted to feel Ilya. Skin on his skin. 

“Just panties, please…” Shane mumbled, wincing a little as he rolled further on his pillow to follow Ilya as he moved around. 

Ilya froze for a second, but then picked back up in fear of Shane realizing what he was reacting to. Not the manners. No. The answer for panties. 

Shane didn’t wear panties. But Ilya’s wife did. And now the two were meshing together in Shane’s frazzled, clingy state of mind. It wasn’t like he was trying to comply, afterall he could have just said underwear. That’s unisex. He asked for panties, and Ilya had never been so happy. 

He had a drawer of them ready, so it was easy to reach in and grab the softest pair he could find for the other. He settled on a satiny light pink pair with a cute little bow on the front, just like his cage. He walked them back over to Shane and pulled the covers down, looking over his naked body before handing them over. 

Shane refused them, though, and Ilya wondered if it was because he had just now realized what he’d asked for and gotten. But no, after shoving them away, he spoke up. 

“You do it….” Shane told him. “Tummy hurts…” 

Oh, he was so precious. He got more precious every day. He was so right to take him. 

Ilya moved to get his bent legs into the panties, which was harder than it looked, but eventually happened. He pulled them up and over his hips, over his cage, and hoped they were as comfortable for Shane as he thought they were, especially since he knew Shane had some sensory issues. 

“How’s that?” Ilya stood back to look over his work, seeing the most adorable girl in front of him, taking his breath away all over again.

“Good.” 

“Need anything else?” Ilya asked before he got back in, ready to go to the freaking moon if he needed to, upon her sweet, desperate requests. She deserved everything, at least everything he thought was good for her. 

Shane thought for a second. He was a little thirsty, and realizstically he should ask for water, but he missed Ilya. 

“No,” He told him. “C’mere.” 

How could Ilya argue with a request like that? He piled into the bed on his side, getting back under the covers to tangle himself back up with Shane and become one again in the least sexual way possible. 

That was another thing Ilya did today that Shane was happily shocked with. He loved to fuck Shane, said so all the time. But he didn’t force any sex on him today. He wasn’t even grossed out by the blood, he just wanted him to relax. It was… uncharacteristically sweet. 

When Shane was placed back on top of Ilya, though, he whined like the other had brunt him. 

“What, what is it?” Ilya asked, wanting it to be perfect for his little pouter. 

“Off,” Shane explained as he tugged at Ilya’s t-shirt. “Want skin.” 

Skin was warm, skin was intimate, and skin was very much doable. 

“You are sure?” Ilya tested his luck, needing to hear him say it again. 

“Yes,” Shane only pulled at it faster. “Need you…” 

Ilya was quick to take his shirt off and throw it across the room. He’d pick it up tomorrow. Right now, he had a wife to cuddle, and nothing was going to keep him from her.

Chapter Text

True to what Shane said, his period only lasted 3 days. 

It was a long, clingy, and cuddly three days. All Shane wanted to do was sleep it all away. Meanwhile, Ilya spent many an afternoon nap up, simply watching his wife as she breathed all steady in his arms. 

Shane woke up the morning before his birthday in a grumbled little mess. He hardly even processed that he wasn’t in pain anymore until he came to a bit more. That’s when he looked down at his hand and saw it fisted around Ilya’s pec, the other underneath him. 

He quickly let go and shuffled away, a bit fuzzy on the past few days and what exactly went down, but very aware of the current time and what he wasn’t okay with. 

“Shayna?” Ilya muttered in his sleep, turning over to try and reach out for the missing girl. 

Shane simply batted his hand away and sat up higher on the bed, getting all of Ilya’s attention. 

“What is it?” Ilya opened his eyes, wiping his face. “Did you have bad dream?” 

More like a bad reality. 

“No, I just… I don’t need you anymore-” Shane shook his head, not liking the wording. “Didn’t need you at all.” 

“Oh, really?” Ilya asked, lounging back against the headboard, shirtless, just like a model. 

“Really.” Shane swallowed back any sense of the truth- that, at least while he was in pain, he seemingly had needed the comfort of the other. Or at least someone who just so happened to be him. 

“How about ‘thank you, Ilya, I love you?” The Russian asked him, a bit too smiley to think he’d actually get that from him. 

He had been so sweet, and he’d miss it. He’d selfishly hope he’d seek more comfort from him. But he knew one day, this wouldn’t be something he missed, but something he cherished in frequently. So for that sake, he’d survive the long journey to it being real all the time. 

He’d heard it’s normal for people who are slipping to notice they are and fight it more. Sometimes against what they really want. And if he even wanted it, however silent he may be about it, that was a win, right? 

Shane squirmed in the seta he made himself up by the pillows and then looked down at his body. He knew something felt off. And now he knew what they were. 

Panties. 

Shane scoffed as his hands went down to the waistband of them. “Did you put panties on me?!” 

“Yes,” Ilya simply answered. 

“What the fuck!” Shane used the leverage he had to try to tug them down. “I never asked you to do that!” 

Ilya bit his tongue about the cursing and kept his tone simple. “Um… baby, yes, you did.” 

“I never asked for panties!” Shane continued to fuss. 

“Yes, you did,” Ilya told him. “In fact, I believe you said, please, daddy, please give me my sweet little panties.” 

“Oh fuck off!” Shane said. “I know I didn’t say all that!” 

“Well, if you are so knowledgeable, you’d know you did in fact ask for panties, солнечный свет.” Ilya winked at him, knowingly. 

Shane's face flashed with a bit of recognition, and then went red as a tomato. Was it anger or embarrassment, or a mix of both? Ilya didn’t know. 

“Well, I don’t want them!” Shane said, finally getting the powder blue pair Ilya had put on him last night off his body and throwing them at Ilya. 

Ilya smiled wider as the light panties hit him in the chest. He looked down and grabbed at the satiny fabric, fond of how it felt almost as much as how it looked on his lover. He locked eyes with Shane and then brought the panties up to his face, burying his face in them and huffing the scent. 

Shane’s heart skipped a bit at how he did it with no hesitation. He was already a little antsy since he woke up due to those damn pills he’d been forced to take, and now he was, dare he say, a bit turned on. 

“You smell so sweet,” Ilya told him. “Taste even sweeter.” 

Shane pressed his legs together and then rolled his eyes to cover up for it. Just like when he was dealing with cramps, he wasn’t in his right mind. It was drugs, and stress, and just… hormones! He couldn’t help it. He didn’t want Ilya; he just wanted to get off. It wasn’t his fault Ilya was so hot sometimes. 

Shane decided to shift back even further, realizing for the first time that he wasn’t chained to the bed. That was peculiar. 

“I’m not chained?” He asked the other. 

“No,” Ilya told him. “Was not necessary when you were so soft and sweet.” 

Shane hated being told that more than he hated actually being that way. He wanted to stay in his little denial cocoon forever. 

“Well…what about now?” Shane asked, holding hid breath, hoping he wasn’t signing up for another lock-in so quickly. 

“Depends,” Ilya told him as he moved his arms behind his head, flexing his muscles more and driving Shane a bit crazy. “Can you be a good girl?” 

Fuck. Why was that hot? 

He knew he liked praise, but shouldn’t the whole girl thing cancel it out? Why was the look he gave paired with those bastardly words actually doing something for him? Sure, he was gay, and Ilya was Ilya fucking Roanov, but if he was gay, that should mean he wants to be a good boy, right? 

Fuck, this wasn’t even supposed to be sexual, was it? No. No way. He wanted to know he wouldn’t run, not see if he could take orders with his hands tied behind his back (even if that sounded hot too!). 

“I…” His mouth went a bit dry. 

Ilya laughed. “You are unsure?” 

“No,” Shane said. “I just don’t know how to say it…” 

“Like this,” Ilya sat up more and moved his hand to Shane’s jaw, moving it in time with his words. “I’ll be a good girl.” 

The grip on Shane was like being held down, and he was shocked when he opened his mouth; he didn’t just drool. Damn those pills. Damn, Ilya’s body! 

“I’ll be a good girl,” He mustered up, even if it made his stomach flip, which he supposed was a bad way. Anything to not be chained up, right? 

“And you won’t escape?” 

“Could I even if I wanted to?” Shane cocked his head in question. 

“Ah,” Ilya smiled fondly. “Smart girl, too.” 

Shane wasn’t sure how to take that compliment, but he knew he was blushing again like an idiot. He needed off these pills, now. 

“Why do you do that?” Ilya asked. 

“Do what?” Shane asked back, looking up from where he’d cast down his gaze in pure shyness. 

“You get all shy, like you cannot admit you want it.” 

“Want what?” 

Ilya was straight to the point. “Me.” 

Shane scoffed. “I don’t want you!” he meant it. 

“But you want my body on yours… right?” Ilya asked, this time not getting a response. “Is okay, sweetheart, is only natural.” 

“You mean because you’re drugging me?” 

“I meant because I am hot as fuck, but sure, that too,” He winked again. “It’s okay, Shane, you can hate me and still wanna fuck me.” 

“Since when?!” 

“Since the invention of the hatefuck,” Ilya said. “Stop trying to fight it; it could be good for you, and frankly, it’s going to happen anyway.”

“I just can’t… like…let you-” 

“Shhh,” Ilya shushed him with a featherlight touch to his lips. “You think about it, okay?” 

Shane just nodded, not sure he’d ever think about it beyond the big sign flashing in his head that said ‘DANGER DO NOT FALL FOR TRAP’. Sure, Ilya was hot. Sure, they were going to fuck anyway. But wasn’t the only power he had that he’d said no, regardless of what happened? Was he honestly suggesting there was more pleasure, more power in saying yes? 

Definitely seemed like a trap. 

“If I don’t have to be chained, then can I do some morning yoga?” Shane asked, eyeing up his mat in the corner, eager to get back to it after a few days in bed. 

Ilya seemed to think for a second, and then nodded, getting out of bed so Shane could follow him out of the covers. 

“As long as you stay in this room, that is fine,” Ilya decided, moving onto the next eventual step a little earlier than he thought; giving Shane the whole room and just locking the door, not the boy’s ankle. “Oh, and since you did so well during your period-” Shane cringed. “I will finally give you something to wear during yoga.” 

“Really?” His eyes went wide with hope. 

“Yes, will be less pretty of a view, but whatever my princess wants, right?” Ilya shrugged as he moved over to the closet. 

“Whatever I want?” Shane tested. 

“Within reason!” 

Shane sighed. Worth a shot.

Ilya came back with a pile of folded clothes, just two pieces, in their hot pink glory. Shane knew it was better than putting his asshole on display every time he touched his toes, but damn, this was just about the next worst thing. 

“Here,” Ilya handed it over with a kiss to the top of Shane’s head. 

“Thanks,” Shane mumbled as he took the pieces from Ilya and then looked them over. 

They were indeed that hot, almost bubblegum pink color. There were two pieces. A sports bra and a pair of shorts so short he wasn’t sure they would cover much of his ass at all. They also had bright purple tiger stripes on them in their spandex-y material. 

Ilya seemed to walk into the bathroom after that, mumbling about taking a piss or something, and the door closed behind him. 

Shane couldn’t help it. Now wasn’t the time to escape, but it was the time to see how possible it was. 

He walked over, leaving the workout clothes on the one table in the room, and walked over to the door that led to the hall. He grabbed the brass door handle and turned it, tugging slowly to not make a lot of noise. 

Locked. 

Sure, why wouldn’t it be? But he had to see! 

He quickly backed away before Ilya could come back out, claiming he forgot something just to catch him in the act. He went to the clothing and got changed quickly, not wanting Ilya to question what he was doing out here if he just ignored them. They were tight, and unless he was crazy, the sports bra actually turned his pecs into a slight cleavage. 

At least Ilya would be happy. Not that Shane cared about him. At all. In another life, he could have. In another life, he did. But he just had to go and kidnap him. 

When Ilya came back out of the room, Shane was working on a tree pose, trying to do his best to just go with the program right now. To stop suspicion of what he looked into. Already making plans to check the locks more closely when he had more time. 

“Oh, good, it fits!” Ilya smiled, hands on his hips, and he circled around Shane’s mat, taking in all angles of him.

Shane moved into a half moon adn tried to just focus on his core muscles and his peace of mind, even if he felt the eyes on him. Especially the parts of him that showed more skin than he preferred for the moment. 

“I measured you when you first came here, you know,” Ilya told him. 

Was Shane supposed to respond? Of course, he didn’t know. How would he know? He was passed out. 

“I think if you like this, you will really like everything I have for you tomorrow,” Ilya told him. “Will be an amazing birthday.” 

Shane closed his eyes and wished that’d be true. But it wouldn’t. It’d be far from it.

Chapter Text

Shane did his yoga for 45 minutes before Ilya was demanding he eat something, appearing back in the room with a tray full of fruit salad and Nutella spread crepes. 

For a man who only needed to do the bare minimum, Shane would acknowledge that he always went above and beyond with things. He imagined it was just because, like Shane, it was who he was. On the ice or in other parts of life. 

For the first time since they’d been eating meals in bed, Ilya allowed Shane to sit across from him and not directly on top of him. He put the tray between them like a small table, and once again that day, Shane was experiencing more firsts with more power. 

Some of the power he handed over to Shane happily as he ‘grew’ in the situation, and some he held onto. Like telling Shane, who refused to admit he was tired, that after an afternoon watching, he needed a nap. 

Shane had scoffed and tried to tell him he didn’t need a nap, but after three days of depending on them, a yawn betrayed his words, and Ilya was even more adamant. 

He joined Shane for the nap too, happy to hold him close to him. He wasn’t the most tired, but he could always get comfy enough around his lover to doze at least for a little bit. 

That’s where Ilya was now, half-awake, eyes closed, holding Shane to his side as he drew lines up and down his spine. He didn’t have to dream anymore; he had what he wanted right by him. At least physically. 

He did wish for more affection. Not just the raunchy stuff he implied to Shane today, but the little things. The packed lunches handed out the door before practice, the little kisses on the nose, and the ‘I love you’s’ that never failed to make him tingle with pure euphoria of how true it was. 

He missed those things. They were easy with Svetlana. There was never a time in his life that he remembered not loving her. But it was a special kind of love that he couldn’t compare to Shane. Not for the worse. Just for the difference. Maybe in some ways, even the better. 

All he knew was that Shane was complicated, but also so easy to choose to love. 

Just as he moved his hand down to the hem of Shan’e’s yoga shorts, circling between the material and his skin, he heard Shane let out a whimper. 

He stilled his hand and slowed his breathing. 

That wasn’t normal. Not at least like this. 

Ilya opened his eyes and looked down at the woman cuddled to his side, trying to see what had happened. Was it a bad dream? Ilya would make it go away. Nothing hurt his girl, after all. 

He tried to read his face, but he couldn’t quite tell what emotion it was. He waited with a bated breath, just watching the other and waiting for a further sign. Eventually, it came when Shane’s shut eyes fluttered a bit, and he moaned. 

So it was that kind of dream. Did the pills do that? Did coincidence? Did Shane himself start to need him so much, even his subconscious knew? If that was the case, the sooner he let them hate fuck, the better for them both. It’s no fun holding back your arousal, especially since Shane had never even had this beforehand. Now he knew it was too good to miss. 

Before Ilya could decide what he wanted to do with the sleeping figure beside him, Shane started to move. Still asleep. Humping his thigh like a dog. 

Ilya leaned back, not sure this was real, running a hand through his hair and stifling out another breath. This was so hot. Shane wasn’t even awake to notice how wrong it’d be to him; he just worked on pure instinct. His instinct wanted Ilya, and he wanted him bad. 

“Shane,” Ilya was quick to put his hand back on him. “Shane, sweetheart, slow down.” 

He wasn’t sure if he could even register what he was saying, but he tried anyway. Shane’s hips were moving like crazy, chasing a high against Ilya that he’d never imagined before. 

Should he wake him up? Ilya had no idea what to do as he started to harden in his boxers. Shane’s little shorts and the sweet little cage against his desperate little girl were just so much. She kept whimpering, too, as she failed to get what she wanted. It was intoxicating. 

He knew he’d just keep getting frustrated if he didn’t wake him, so he decided to be gentle about it. 

“Shaynaaaa,” He called into his ear, careful not to bump against his heavy thrusts. “Shane, wake up, sweetness.” 

“Hmm?” Shane seemed to come to the surface a bit, not stopping, just questioning, still stuck in the pleasure. 

“Babygirl, wake up,” Ilya spoke again. “I want to help you.” 

“Help me? Wh-Ilya?” He looked up, slowly stopping his moving hips, even as he continued to throb in his cage. “Oh shit…” 

“You were having a good time,” Ilya smiled, running a hand through Shane’s hair this time. “But I knew if I woke you up, I could make it better.” 

“But-” Shane shook his head. “That doesn’t count, I didn’t mean to-” 

“Shhh,” Ilya hushed him. “Is out there now, and you really only have two options. You can give in to what we know you both want, or you can lay there with your throbbing little clit and turn up empty-handed.” 

Shane cursed under his breath. It was so much easier not to be into it if he just never started. But he did start. Not even Ilya, but him. 

He was so horny. He had been for days, and he couldn’t even do anything about it. Once his mind slipped into sleep, it went for what it wanted, seeking out Ilya both in real life and in his dreams. 

“Tick tock, baby,” Ilya told him, running his hand over his collarbone. “Time to make choice.” 

Ilya looked into his eyes, seeing how dilated they were, even while they looked anxiously around, a bit scared. Ilya expected, based on this, for Shane to simply sit there in misery, but maybe he was underestimating just how bad she needed it. Because the next second, she was grabbing the back of his neck, pressing her hips onto his thigh, and breathing in his face. 

“Fuck it,” Shane said. “This doesn’t mean anything, it’s just sex.” 

“Mmm, great sex.”

Shane rolled his eyes, “Shut up,” before he dove into his mouth with his own, using his tongue right off the bat to make sure he could reach any part of Ilya he wanted. 

He wanted. That was new. He was used to just taking, no matter what he wanted. Sometimes not going for things he wanted in fear it was like some secret win for the other. But maybe, if he got what he wanted out of this, too, it was a win for both of them. 

Shane continued to fruitlessly grind into Ilya, the other pressing back and receiving one-sided pleasure. Shane got frustrated quickly. 

“Can you-can you take my cage off?” He asked him, nicely, right into his open mouth. 

Ilya frowned, giving kiss to the other before he spoke. “Trying to teach you to cum without being touched there, baby.” 

Shane whined, pressing his head into his neck, a bit reminiscent of when he was in a different kind of pain than arousal being denied. 

“Please?” He asked further, sucking in his earlobe. “I wanna ride your thigh…” 

“Why ride my thigh when you can ride my cock?” Ilya perked up at the idea of having Shane on top, not an option until now. “I bet you’d look so pretty perched up there, like a princess.” 

“Don’t wanna be a princess,” Shane winced. “Just wanna be good.” 

“Oh, you’re good,” Ilya promised, voice thick with arousal as he moved to pull down the other's shorts. “You’re so good.” 

Shane whined as he let himself be moved to the center of the other, legs spread and ready to take what he was given. It was such an impressive cock, he wasn’t sure how he didn’t give in sooner. Wasn’t sure how he’d ever move on from it. 

“I can be so good,” Shane mumbled as he was lowered on top of his cock. “So, so good!” 

“I know you can,” Ilya told him, letting him settle in as he threw the sports bra off his body. 

Ilya’s hand went up to his pecs, thick and perky, like the sweetest, smallest little pair of boobs he’d ever wanted to bite into. They wouldn’t always be this small, but even if they were, he’d never complain. Not when they fit his hands like gloves. 

Shane whined, a sign he was ready to take the movement, and Ilya was quick to oblige. He thrust up into him, over and over, watching as Shane took it, looking cock dumb with his mouth open and his eyes rolled back into his head. A bit of drool even came down his mouth with each squeak. 

“Shane,” Ilya breathed. 

“Yeah?” the other responded breathily. 

“You can move too,” He told him, even though he had no trouble taking over. “You wanted this…” 

“Yeah…” 

“So take it!” 

Shane couldn’t stop himself from going for it at that point, bouncing up and down on him as best he could for someone who had never done this before. Part of him wondered if the hockey world knew all those leg stretches were really great for anal, but he doubted they did. He just cherished how easily he could do it all. 

“Good girl,” Ilya spoke as he still trhjusted into her every so often. “Chase your pleasure.” 

Shane continued to do just that, knowing that if he wanted to cum, he had to find it here. He moved angles, trying to find his g-spot, when it finally hit him. 

Oh yeah. He could definitely cum from enough time right there. 

Shane noticed Ilya’s eyes were on his chest, not where they met. He wasn’t sure why until it finally clicked. 

To Ilya, they weren’t just pecs, they were tits. 

The fucking asshole was feminizing him so much he thought he had tits bouncing as he fucked her!

Shane got a bit selfconciosu afterthat, bringing his hands up to his chest, which only made him realize his nipples were sensitive. He moaned, moving to clutch his pecs in his hands, making a doughy bit of cleavage appear that drove Ilya over the edge as they both moaned. 

Shane came soon after, hands dropped down onto Ilya to hold himself up, breathing into him as he felt the cum fill him up. The sex was good, but damn did he wish for a condom. If only to stop from getting pregnant, let alone the mess. 

“Do you like when I fill you up?” Ilya sked, grabbing her by the ass and forcing her face to his as she laid on his chest. It was like he knew what she was reacting to when she was. A mind reader. 

It was objectively kind of hot, but it was messy. And he’d already admitted to liking enough right now, he didn’t need to throw Ilya extra bones of confidence. 

“It’s kinda messy…” Shane simply said. 

“That means we had fun,” Ilya smiled, on the verge of joyful laughter. 

Shane watched him, and as much as he hated seeing him enjoy anything- let alone him- he knew he couldn’t take this back from him. He, in a moment of real need, had admitted he wanted to be fucked by him. And yeah, it was true, but damn was it a price to pay. Shane just hoped it’d be worth it.

Chapter Text

It was only a minute of laying there, still positioned on Ilya’s slowly softening dick, when Shane realized he wasn’t ready to stop just yet. He couldn’t help it. It was out there, and he was insatiable. 

“More…” Shane said, laid out on him. “Not done yet.” 

“More?” Ilya asked, sounding like a man who just won the lottery. 

“Yeah, need more,” Shane told him as he adjusted himself again, purposefully, hoping to stir him up again. “Unless you don’t have it in you.” 

Ilya’s eyes widened. Was that a challenge? 

“Are you questioning if I can get it up for my сексуальная жена?” Ilya’s brow turned in. 

“I don’t know, you tell me,” Shane continued to tease, anything he could do to get him to dick him down again. “I mean, I only need one more time, surely you can give me that, right?” 

Ilya’s hands went to Shane’s hips as he felt his dick come back to life inside the other. The look in his eyes was feral. 

Shane loved the power he had gained and questioned why he didn’t do this sooner. It’s not like he didn’t want this sooner. After it’d happened, it wasn’t about staying in complete control. That had left the realm of possibilities. But gaining back power in this? Saying when it started, getting him to want it, and every other little thing Shane could do to drive him mad? He loved that. 

Ilya leaned in, sly face, resting on Shane’s forehead with his own. “You are such cheeky girl.” He accused before using his hold on Shane’s hips to flip them around. 

Ilya relished in the sound of a caught-off-guard Shane. The little gasp into the little giggle. The way he squirmed under his hold, not to get away from it this time, but to simply get more comfortable. 

“You’re such a slut,” Ilya told her before licking a stripe up the side of her neck to her ear. 

Shane squirmed even more deliciously at the sensation. “...maybe.” 

Oh, she was so cheeky. He loved this side of her. Freer than any other part Shane had let him see. Wild. And of course, desperate for Ilya’s cock after just having it. 

Ilya rolled his hips once into Shane, like a challenge, hearing the way that Shane responded right into his ear. Instead of begging, though, she did the same, thrusting up onto him, making him let out a noise this time. 

“Oh my girl wants it bad,” he basically purred, leaning down to start sucking at Shane’s neck when a noise let out, not from either of them this time. 

Ding-dong

Ilya gasped, pulling away from Shane when he was just a hair's breadth away from ravishing his neck. Shane whined and made his own grip tighter, trying to gain back the attention of his- shit- not his anything. Just Ilya. 

“No,” Shane said as he noticed Ilya wasn’t coming back to him. “It’s just the doorbell.” 

“Yes, but could be package I’m waiting for.” 

Shane put on a dramatic pout. “A package more important than fucking me?” 

“Shane, I have to get it,” Ilya had at least looked apologetic when he said it, and started to pull away and out of Shane. 

“No,” he said, feeling less powerful and more pathetic. “Don’t.” 

“I’ll be quick,” Ilya explained as he grabbed his boxers and put them back on. 

Shane had one more attempt to stop him, even if it meant stretching things a bit further than he liked. He grabbed his hand as he tried to walk away and pulled him back, same pout matching his doe eyes as he spoke one simple word. 

“Daddy….”

Ilya shivered, so turned on from that one simple word that he could have just collapsed back down right there. Shane was saying it in the prettiest little whine. The whine of a good girl who just wants her daddy. All on her own. Damn. Sometimes he wished he were a weaker man. 

He brought Shane’s hand to his and kissed it. “Will fuck you after.” 

Shane whined as he left the room. He didn’t want fucked later. He wanted it now. And if he couldn’t even overpower a package, did he really have as much power as he thought he did? Or was he so desperate for any power that he was happy with the little he had?

Shane just sat there, waiting. He did, at one point fold the clothes he was wearing, just because he liked the order of it, but that only took a moment. He felt like he was waiting forever before Ilya came back with a cardboard box.

Shane had to admit he was intrigued about what it was. 

Ilya knew he would be, and waited for Shane to ask him about it. Shane instead just watched and waited for Ilya to either open it or explain it himself. 

Ilya looked over and saw the clothes folded on the corner of the bed. “You folded them?” 

“Yes.” 

Ilya gave a hum of approval. “If you liked folding so much, I will let you fold laundry next time.” 

More jobs. More power. Right? 

“Okay,” Shane agreed, still mostly focused on the box. 

In a horror movie, it’d be a limb of a loved one. Shane knew the stereotypes well enough. Sure, being here, being kidnapped, was the stuff horror movies were made of. But this didn’t feel as threatening. 

Finally, he spoke up. “What’s in the box that was so important?” 

Ilya looked at Shane, seemingly deciding if he was going to share or not. He decided with a smile he would though, using a pocketknife to open the taped seal on it. 

Shane was so out of it that he forgot that a pocketknife could be a weapon. Forgot he could get up off the bed at all to steal it. Forgot that the doorbell ringing meant that people do come here, and he could simply scream one day and have at least a partial chance of changing something. 

It was too routine that he was stuck here now, just like Ilya wanted him to think. 

“I was going to wait to give this to you until your birthday tomorrow, but I am just too excited,” Ilya admitted as he continued to open things up. “I had it custom-ordered right when I decided to take you and make you mine.” 

Shane swallowed, thinking it couldn’t be good. Right? Anything that was decided that early on was probably part of sick and twisted plans. 

“Close your eyes, baby,” Ilya instructed, making Shane hesitate for a moment before going along with it. If it hurt him, it wouldn’t be anything new. 

Shane pulled the covers off and shuffled to the edge of the bed, putting his hands out, thinking something would be placed on them. But instead, something was sheathed over his head. Luckily, it wasn’t claustrophobic, as it left his face clear, only laid out over the top of his head. 

Whatever it was didn’t hurt. It just confused him… and tickled a little. 

He opened his eyes at Ilya’s command and looked down to see the parts of it that were lying over his shoulders. He gasped as his fingers grasped onto hair. Long, black, wavy hair. 

The thing on his head was a wig. 

“You got me a wig?” he gawked at the man above him. 

“Yes,” Ilya told him. “Is not forever, just until your hair is long enough for extensions.” 

“Extensions?” Shane continued to try and keep up, all thoughts of getting dicked down behind him now. 

“Да,” Ilya explained simply, admiring his wife in her new hair. “All real hair, like wig, of course.” 

“But why do I need long hair? Not every girl has long hair!” He once again found himself begging not to be a boy, but just the kind of girl he could stomach most. 

“My girl has long hair,” Ilya put it simply, showing it wasn’t up for discussion. “Do you want to see it?” 

Shane looked between Ilya and the hair he could see. It was soft, but he couldn’t tell much about it. Seeing it would give him the full picture. But did he need it? No. He could refuse, just like he’d done after the laser treatment, to look at himself. But his curioisity continued to waver. He just wasn’t sure. 

Surely he could see it the next time he went to the bathroom, right? Could maybe even drop it the in toilet and flush it a few times until Ilya deemed he needed another 2 weeks to get another one. He liked that idea. 

But his lack of response only told Ilya he’d decide for him, grabbing her hand and pulling her up off the bed. He then continued to bring her into their large en suite bathroom, where the largest mirror was hung right over the couple’s sinks. 

Shane’s feet dragged in a small attempt to slow down. He wasn’t ready, was he? He didn’t think so. All he thought was panic. But Ilya was having none of it, dragging him right up to it and taking his place behind her. 

The mirror was huge, so there was no missing his reflection. 

Shane reached up at the hair again, this time seeing the exact way it framed his face from top to bottom. The bottom went to about bottom of his pecs in those pronounced waves. He imagined if he was a girl he would have hair like this, the way it fit his features. 

He turned his head to see the way it moved with his every move. It was soft and light and would probably something he’d get used to having after a lifetime of not having any hair past his ears. 

He looked from the hair to the hair on his face. There was none on his lower half, even though he hadn’t shaved in half a week. The only hair there was were his lashes and his brows. Those perfectly shaped brows that screamed femininity. 

His breath caught. He looked like a girl. He was basically a girl at this point. Whoa… 

Shane swallowed and had to grab the counter to steady himself. 

Ilya moved his arms around Shane’s torso, resting his chin ontop of Shane’s wig. He could feel how soft it was too now. 

“You look so beautiful,” Ilya told him. 

Objectively, Shane knew he was right. But he wasn’t going to accept it, let alone bask in it. He tried to pull back on his hold, just to get away from the reflection he didn’t recognize, but the hold on him was too strong. 

“Tell me shayna,” Ilya spoke. “What do you see?” 

Shane wasn’t sure how to answer. He didn’t see himself, at least not right at the surface. He was stuck somewhere he could only see in the desperation of his dark brown eyes. 

But who was there? If he said a girl, wasn’t Ilya just winning? 

“I don’t know,” He said what he could stomach, not even fully lying. 

“Well,” Ilya said. “I see you becoming the wonderful, gorgeous woman you were always meant to be.” 

Shane’s stomach flipped. He wasn’t meant to be that. He was meant to be a hockey player. A male one, preferably. 

Why couldn’t Ilya have just fucked him and left the package outside to be stolen or destroyed by the weather? Why did he have to set it on his head like it was made for him (even if it was)? 

“It feels wrong,” Shane simply breathed out. “Maybe I should take some time without it.” 

“You just put it on, is nonsense,” Ilya told him. “You keep this on now.” 

“Always?” Shane asked, worried. 

“Always,” He punctuated with a kiss to the wig’s crown. 

Shane’s hands that steadied him began to shake along with his legs. He hated looking in the mirror. He hated seeing Ilya standing there with him like they were some perfect couple. They weren’t a couple. And he wasn’t a woman! 

If only his reflection could understand that the way he did….

Chapter Text

Shane woke up on his birthday with the feeling of being well rested and warm. The covers mixed with the sun coming through the large windows always made him feel perfect, even in the nude. Not to mention the body-heat that was always pressed up on him. 

The body heat that was missing… 

Shane’s eyes opened as he moved his hands to a cold part of the bed. There never used to be an empty half of the bed. There certainly was never a cold half of the bed. The warmth was a sign Ilya had been there, and if it was cold… where was Ilya? 

Shane’s eyes opened as he pulled back the covers, looking for even a sock as a sign that Ilya had been there, but there was nothing more than the usual indent of the man’s frame against the mattress that was always pressed into it. 

Shane froze for a second, wondering if this was what he’d been waiting for. The moment he woke up and none of this was real. Sure, he was in this bedroom, in this house, but if Ilya disappeared, wasn’t that what mattered? He used to dream of waking up to that kind of thing, but right now, it just felt wrong. 

“Ilya?” Shane called out, echoing in the room and highlighting the slight fear in his tone. 

The other option was that he was abandoned, and that scared him more than he liked to admit. Ever since the first time he thought he was. 

He waited, listening closely, hoping for even a sound to signal someone was there. When he heard nothing, he called out louder. “Ilya?!” The anxiety was real. 

“I’m right here, my love,” The familiar accented voice called from the other side of the bedroom door. 

Shane exhaled with relief, moving his newfound hair behind his shoulders so he could see the other clearly as they walked into the room. 

Shirtless and wearing those gray sweatpants that looked amazing on his frame, he walked into the room holding something in his hand. Usually breakfast was on a tray, but this was a bit fancier, something hidden under a cloque. 

Ilya shut and locked the door behind him and moved over to the bed, placing the cloque’d item on the bedside. 

“Happy birthday, baby,” He spoke, stroking some of that same hair on Shane’s head as he looked down at him lovingly. 

“Thank you…” Shane’s voice was small in comparison. 

Shane just let him stroke his hair. It wasn’t really attached to his scalp, so there was no spine-tingling feeling each time he grazed it. Which was good. Shane was sensitive after all. Sensitive enough that he thought falling asleep in a wig would be a nightmare, but it was surprisingly not the issue he had with it. 

“You sleep well?” 

“Yes,” Shane responded, choosing to be curt yet polite for the time being, feeling out the day. “Did you?” 

“Yes, but I had to get up early to prepare things for your birthday.” 

“You don’t need to make a fuss over my birthday,” Shane tried to casually wave it off, even if he secretly hoped he could gain something good from it, especially after yesterday. 

“Of course I did,” Ilya said before climbing back into the bed, right on top of Shane. “You are special.” 

Ilya wastes no time holding Shane, burying himself in the other until they’re almost one. They stay like that for a while, and it almost feels good before it’s over. 

“Do you want me to make love to you?” Ilya asked, nose tickling the tip of Shane’s. 

Shane had never been asked before. Never given much of a choice when it came to it. But today, the gentle giant seemed to be following Shane’s wishes for a change. 

The idea of getting fucked, slow and sensual in the morning light sounded nice. But part of him was still angry at Ilya. Whenever he’d think that Ilya wasn’t only bad, he’d go and do something that Shane could hardly stomach. It wasn’t fair to be put through the whiplash. 

“Later..” He settled for. 

Part of Shane waited for the punishment. For the yelling. For Ilya to take him anyway. But it never came. Ilya was respecting him, if only just this once. All in the name of a stupid birthday? Or actual growth? He didn’t wanna get his hopes up and think it was something big just to get that whiplash again, so he assumed nothing. 

“What about a kiss?” Ilya seemed to bargain. 

Shane wasn’t sure a kiss was worth the same fight, so with the grounding weight on him, he looked up at Ilya’s eyes and simply said. “Okay,” all with the knowledge he wouldn’t have done anything had he just said the word. 

Ilya moved his mouth until it was hovering right over Shane’s, watching as Shane shifted his shoulders back just enough to reach for his lips and touch them. Then he dived into them, long and pure as he kissed the other with as much passion and love as he could muster. 

It was probably Shane’s favorite kiss ever if he stopped to think about it. 

A small line of saliva followed them as they pulled apart, only cementing them as one further, making Ilya laugh a bit before he wiped it away. Then he moved to wipe it off Shane’s lips with his thumb, gentle as his girl deserved. 

“Ты такая красивая, Шейн….” 

Shane’s brow furrowed a bit as he looked up at the halo of light above Ilya’s curls. “What does that mean?” 

“I said you are beautiful,” Ilya smiled before sitting up. 

Ilya straddled Shane, right at the hips, sitting back and brushing against the other’s cage. Shane blushed but didn’t shy away, trying to sit up himself as he watched Ilya reach towards the cloque. Ilya pulled it open and muttered, “Viola.”

Shane’s eyes adjusted to see a smoothie placed there. His eyes lit up. “A smoothie?!” He hadn’t had a smoothie in so long, and he used to have one every day! 

“Not just any smoothie, but the one from the magazine,” Ilya explained as he grabbed it, sitting back and letting Shane sit up more. “Remember that.” 

“Yeah!” Shane said. “I didn’t think you did, though…” 

“Of course I did,” Ilya explained as he handed it over. “I always remember things about my girl.” 

Shane twitched a little bit at the ‘girl’, but overall, he couldn’t help his smile. Ilya was giving him a smoothie. He actually remembered he’d wanted one, and used the exact recipe he’d given him too. It was sweet. Almost as sweet as the smoothie. 

Shane’s mouth exploded with the taste of all sorts of berries as he pulled some of the smoothie through the straw. Ilya just watched him, happy that the other was happy. Like it was all he wanted, of course, within his rules. 

“Is it good?” 

“It’s great,” Shane said, going back for more. 

Ilya leaned back a bit, reaching out. “Can I try?” 

Once again, Shane knew he could say no. Knew that if Ilya respected no when it came to sex in this circumstance, certainly he’d respect it when it came to a smoothie. But he could just picture Ilya giving a teasing little pout and saying how he had no breakfast, and it was easier to just say yes now before he blushed again and actually fell for part of him in some twisted way. 

“Sure.” 

Ilya’s fingers purposely grazed the cup as it traded hands, and it was electric for him. Was it for Shane? He couldn’t tell, but he could hope. He sucked up through the same straw as Shane and thought it was quite good if he was allowed to compliment his own skills in cooking. 

“Is nice,” Ilya told him as he handed it back, once again making their fingers touch. 

“Do you want more?” Shane asked, holding it out a bit, tilted towards the other. 

Ilya had eaten some fruit as he made the smoothie up, knowing Shane would want the whole thing. He was a little hungry, but he’d live. He shook his head no and watched as Shane happily went back to the drink. 

Ilya watched it all. The way Shane sucked so hard that his cheeks dimpled. The way he licked his lips when some sputtered out. The way he swallowed hard enough to watch his throat bob. It was hot. But it wasn’t about that for him. It was about Shane.

When Shane finished the smoothie, he wiped his mouth and put it back down on the tray that was underneath the cloque originally. He wiped his mouth with his hand, no napkins in the present, and shyly smiled. He felt a little bit like a pig for how fast he downed it, but damn, didn’t he deserve that after everything? Hell, he even covered up a burp. 

“Sorry…” He said, cheeks going that cute blushed shade again. 

“Is okay,” Ilya said, a lilt of a laugh in his voice. “Is cute.” 

Shane wasn’t sure anyone could honestly think that it was cute, in love with him or not, but still his blush bloomed brighter from it, so it didn’t seem to really matter. 

“I know yesterday was a bit hard for you,” Ilya started to talk all of a sudden, playing with Shane’s hair. “The new hair and all… but I believe you’ll get used to the change.” 

Shane almost didn’t wanna talk about it, throw it into the denial bin with so many other things, but Ilya kept on talking, and Shane obediently kept on listening. 

“I also know you are probably still mad, no smoothie can fix that, but I want us to have a good day for your birthday… do you think we could do that?” Ilya asked, a bit shy himself for the first time, seemingly aware of the shift that had happened. 

Shane didn’t wanna ruin his birthday any more than Ilya did. But he was suspicious if it could all really be this nice and simple. How long before he was dressing him up in tights and a skirt in the name of his birthday? There was no trust, even when there were good moments. But he supposed he could at least try to have a nice day. As nice as possible. 

“I can try,” Shane said, looking down, a bit of the hair falling in his face as he did. Ilya was right there to swoop it back. 

“Would a hair clip for today help with that?” Ilya asked. 

“Huh?” 

“If I give you clip, will not fall in face, right?” Ilya assumed out loud.