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Ilya’s eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the early morning light spilling in through the window. He wasn’t sure what had woken him, but judging by the height of the sun and the weight behind his eyes, it was far too early for him to be starting his day. As he was pondering this, he heard a familiar sound coming from the other side of the bed.
“Mmmmm, Ilya, fuck,” Shane moaned.
Ilya froze. He turned slowly onto his side. The sight he was met with was probably the best thing he could have ever hoped for at 7:00 in the morning. Shane was asleep, but his face was scrunched in a way that Ilya was only used to seeing when he was awake. Awake, and trying not to come while Ilya drilled into him, or took him in his mouth, or worked his hand up and down his length. Shane was having a wet dream. About him.
Ilya was slow in his movements, careful. This had never happened before, at least not outside the realm of his imagination. More often than he would ever admit, the thought of this exact scenario had gotten him over the edge on a lonely night when he was missing Shane.
Shane’s body writhed on the bed, his mouth slightly open as small gasps and moans escaped him without his permission. His dick was fully hard; Ilya could see it through the thin fabric of his boxers. A small wet spot had formed where his tip was. It took everything in Ilya not to touch Shane, but he wanted to see how this played out.
He watched with intense fascination, and he could feel himself getting hard at the sight of it. He reached down and palmed himself through his sweatpants, unable to resist his own desire for friction. Shane looked beautiful. The sheets were pooled around his thighs, leaving his bare upper body exposed. A thin layer of sweat made his skin glisten, and his chest rose and fell quickly from labored breaths.
“Fuck, don’t stop,” Shane mumbled. Ilya would do anything to be able to see what was happening in Shane’s head.
Shane’s body jerked up, harsh and quick, and one hand gripped the sheets. His breathing sped up, and Ilya could see his core tighten, his abs becoming impossibly more defined. Ilya recognized the signs; Shane was about to come in his sleep. Ilya watched as Shane’s face twisted with pleasure, and he whimpered softly, causing Ilya’s dick to twitch in his pants.
“Oh god, Ilya, I– I can’t, I’m–” Shane cut his own rambling off with a moan, and the small wet patch in his boxers grew larger as he came completely untouched. His body jerked and twitched involuntarily, and Ilya thought that it might be the hottest thing he had ever seen in his life. Shane’s brain, even when he was asleep, was thinking of Ilya to the point of an orgasm.
Shane’s body worked itself through the aftershocks, and his eyes started to blink open. He groaned softly, his expression laced with confusion. His hand reached down and touched the wetness that had pooled between his legs.
“Wha- what just happened? What’s happening?” he mumbled, scrambling to sit up. He looked at his hand, then down at his boxers, then over at Ilya, whose pupils were blown wide and cheeks flushed pink.
“I think you had a good dream, my love. A very good dream,” Ilya said. His voice was low and laced with desire.
Shane slowly gained awareness, and heat immediately rushed to his face.
“Oh shit, shit I’m sorry, I-” he stammered, struggling to untangle his legs from the sheets.
Ilya flung his body across the bed, landing next to Shane and throwing a leg across his body. “Do not be sorry. Do not ever be sorry. That was the hottest thing I have ever seen. Holy shit, I love you so much. You said my fucking name, Shane, you moaned it. Fuck,” Ilya gritted out through clenched teeth.
“You saw?!” Shane screeched, “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing.” He hid his face in his hands and let out an exasperated groan.
“No, no, no,” Ilya cooed, reaching up to move Shane’s hands and replace them with his own, “is not embarrassing, Shane, is sexy.”
Shane looked back at Ilya and finally seemed to register the state he was in: completely wrecked and desperate.
“Really? You thought it was hot?” Shane asked.
“It was more than hot, Shane, it was the best thing I’ve ever seen. God, you should have seen your face. So perfect. So pretty. Thinking of me even when you are sleeping,” Ilya rambled.
Shane’s embarrassment started to fade into something else entirely. A small smile graced his lips as he scooted closer to Ilya. “I think about you every second of every day, Ilya. It doesn't surprise me that you are apparently playing the lead role in my dreams, too.”
“Do you remember the dream?” Ilya asked, eager. He wanted to know every detail. He wanted to make it a reality. He needed to make it a reality.
Shane’s face scrunched as he concentrated. “Kind of?” he said, rubbing his eyes. “I remember we were at the rink. We won a game,” he started.
“Oh my god, of course it was a hockey dream,” Ilya cut in, laughing at his husband and his one-track mind.
“Well, it started as a hockey dream,” Shane continued, “but then we were in the showers… and then maybe the locker room? I remember being bent over some sort of bench…” he trailed off.
“Then what?” Ilya asked, his voice cracking. “Do you remember what happened? What did I do? You were telling me not to stop.”
Shane’s cheeks grew impossibly redder. “You, uh, you used your fingers,” he said.
“My fingers?” Ilya questioned. “I do this a lot, no?”
“Yes, that’s not what I mean. I was bent over the bench, and you were fucking me, and then you put your fingers in too. And you were, like…” he paused, looking away with a shy expression on his face.
“Keep going, I want to know,” Ilya encouraged.
“You were rubbing my prostate with your fingers while you fucked me. And your other hand was, like, somehow hitting it from the outside too? I don’t know, it’s hard to explain,” he said. “I just remember it felt so good, Ilya.”
Ilya could no longer handle the tiny distance between them, so he closed it. His lips came crashing down onto Shane’s, hot and messy, but still deliberate. He slipped his tongue in, twisting it around Shane’s in a familiar rhythm that he would never grow tired of. His hands were gripping Shane everywhere. His jaw, then his waist, then the back of his neck. He needed to feel Shane.
He pulled away, gasping, staring at Shane’s perfect face. “I will do this. I will do exactly what I did in the dream, right now,” he said.
Shane was breathing hard, his arms wrapped around Ilya’s shoulders. “I’m a mess, Ilya, let me go get cleaned up.”
“No, no, there is no need for that. We deal with it later. Plus, we are going to make even bigger mess right now, so what does it matter?” Ilya argued. He could see Shane consider this information, then give in entirely. He pulled his soaked boxers down off his legs and threw them into the hamper across the room. Shane’s dick had returned to full hardness, despite the dream-induced orgasm.
“Fuck, solnyshko, you are so beautiful,” Ilya murmured, sliding his hands up and down the sides of Shane’s body. “You were so sexy dreaming about me, I almost had to jerk off just from looking at you.”
“I’m glad you waited for me,” Shane whispered into Ilya’s ear. The feeling of his soft breath sent a shiver through Ilya’s body.
Ilya stood up, much to Shane’s dismay, and pulled his sweats off. He climbed back onto Shane and started mouthing along his jaw and his neck, sucking and leaving marks he knew Shane would complain about later. But right now, it didn’t matter. Right now, Shane was loose and pliant beneath Ilya’s body, grinding his own dick upwards against Ilya’s thigh. Shane’s soft moans were almost too much for Ilya to handle, especially because he was already beyond turned on from the events of the morning.
“Fuck, Shane, I need you so bad right now. I need to feel you. Please,” Ilya moaned. He wasn’t usually the type to beg, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
“I’m yours, baby, you can have me,” Shane replied.
Ilya didn’t waste another second. He grabbed the lube off the nightstand and quickly drizzled some onto his fingers. He traced a few gentle circles around Shane’s hole before pressing a finger in.
“Mmmmm, fuck, Ilya, feels so good,” Shane moaned. “Need more. Need all of you.”
Ilya added another finger, twisting and scissoring inside Shane’s body in all the ways he knew he needed. Shane’s head fell back against the pillow, his mouth open and gasping. Ilya kissed and sucked along his abdomen. He needed to feel Shane under his tongue while he worked him open.
“Please, Ilya, I’m ready, I need you, need to feel your cock,” Shane said.
That was all the encouragement Ilya needed. He gently slipped his fingers out and dripped some lube over his dick, then lined himself up at Shane’s entrance. Shane’s back arched off the bed as he pressed inside of him, slow but needy, and Ilya had to look away. The sight was almost too much for him to handle. Shane’s face was a mirror image of earlier that morning, and Ilya’s pent-up energy suddenly had nowhere to go except directly to the base of his dick.
Ilya gasped and paused, just briefly, to take a deep breath and collect himself. If there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that he was not going to let himself come before he had the chance to play out Shane’s little dream fantasy. Once he had staved off the initial threat of a way-too-quick orgasm, he started to move. Slow at first, and then quicker and with intention.
Shane was gripping the sheets and moaning through his teeth, eyes squeezed shut already. Again, the image was all too similar. Ilya just could not shake the flashbacks of Shane and his wet dream out of his mind. It was driving him crazy, and he bit down on the inside of his cheek to try to gain even a semblance of control over his own body. That’s when he remembered Shane’s description of the dream.
“You look so pretty, lyubimyy. I love seeing your face. But let me flip you over so I can give you what you want. What you have been dreaming about,” Ilya said.
“Mmmmm, please, Ilya, I need it,” Shane whined.
Ilya pulled out, and Shane flipped over onto all fours. Ilya wasted no time pressing back into Shane, one hand steady between his shoulder blades as he re-established a steady rhythm between them.
As he was thrusting into Shane, he reached over and grabbed the lube he had tossed aside earlier. He added a bit more to his fingers, then gently placed them against Shane’s hole, where his dick was already buried deep. He pressed two fingertips inside, then paused to check in.
“Is okay?” he asked.
“It’s perfect,” Shane mumbled, “Keep going. Need more. Need you, Ilya.”
Ilya pressed his fingers all the way in, stretching Shane in a way that felt new. He worked them in deep and then curled them up, finding the spot he was looking for. Shane’s body jerked back, and a loud whine escaped his throat. Ilya kept going, rubbing his fingers up against Shane’s prostate in a steady, unforgiving pattern.
Then, keeping in stride with the guidelines of Shane’s dream, he brought his other hand down between their legs and started gently massaging him right below his balls. Shane pressed his face into the mattress and ground back against Ilya’s body, seeking friction from every direction. Slowly, Ilya added more pressure, eliciting a string of long, unrestrained moans from Shane.
“Fuck, Ilya, just like that. Exactly like that, god, it feels just like the dream,” Shane rambled.
Ilya’s eyes rolled back into his head, and he breathed through his own desperation. He kept that same, relentless rhythm, one hand working Shane from the inside, and one from the outside, his dick still thrusting in time with his fingers.
“Ah– fuck, I’m gonna– Ilya, I can’t stop–” Shane stammered.
“Don’t stop, baby, come for me. Come for me just like you did earlier,” Ilya groaned.
Shane’s body tensed around Ilya’s fingers and cock, and he moaned through his second orgasm of the day.
With that, Ilya finally let go, all the tension that had been building for over an hour finally finding release inside of Shane. Ilya’s body jerked twice, then three times, then four, and five as his orgasm kept rolling through him. When it was finally over, he collapsed on top of Shane.
“Fuck, that was so hot,” Shane mumbled from below him. “That was perfect. It was exactly like my dream. How did you do that?”
Ilya laughed as he slid himself out of Shane. “I will do anything you ask, my love. You have sexy dream, I make it happen. You find new kink on internet, I order supplies. Whatever my Shane wants, he gets.”
They flopped down onto the bed, Shane curling up next to Ilya and placing his head in the crook of his neck. “God, I fucking love you.”
“I love you more. I have been waiting for this day,” Ilya said casually.
“What?” Shane questioned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I have had fantasies about this. Waking up to you having sexy wet dream about me. Watching you come completely untouced in your sleep. I never thought I would actually get to see it,” Ilya said.
“Oh my god, of course you fantasized about this, you pervert,” Shane joked, playfully smacking Ilya’s shoulder.
Ilya giggled. “What? How could I not? Is literally so sexy, and even better in person. I wish I could wake up to this every single day,” he said.
Shane curled in even closer, softly kissing Ilya’s neck. “Well, I’m sure this is not the last sexy dream I will have about you,” he mumbled into Ilya’s skin.
“I’m counting on it,” Ilya replied, placing a kiss on Shane’s forehead.
Ilya looked at the clock. 8:23 am. It wasn’t even 9:00, and he had already lived out one of his favorite secret sexual fantasies.
God, being married to Shane Hollander was the single best thing that could have ever happened to him.