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“Morning.”
Shane reached around Ilya’s waist as Ilya measured out scoops of Folgers. Shane proceeded to run fingers down the line of crisp hair from Ilya’s belly button. Ilya poured water into the coffee maker.
“You seem in a good mood?” Ilya asked as his fiancé’s mouth latched onto his neck, biting into the meat over the large muscle there.
“Yes,” Shane replied, his voice muffled around wet kisses. “I woke up and for a second I had forgot…”
“Forgot?” Ilya questioned. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation of hungry teeth grazing his skin. He gathered himself and pressed the ‘START’ button on the coffee maker. The machine let off three long beeps to indicate it was doing its job. “Forgot what?” Ilya prompted again. He took deep breaths, waiting for a reply. Shane’s hands had travelled under Ilya’s shorts. Ilya assessed his body’s response.
“That it was summer and that we are together.”
“You are happy you forgot,’ Ilya queried—the word came out clipped because Shane’s one hand had cupped under Ilya’s balls, “or that you remembered?”
“Mmm—”
Ilya observed the coffee pot as it hissed and spluttered.
“—and then I got horny.”
Well, that was obvious. Shane’s wood pointed up, nicely slotted into the curve of Ilya’s ass, separated only by their thin shorts. He jutted his hips forward a couple of times. His hands moved rhythmically from Ilya’s crotch, over his hips, his thighs, back to his dick before Shane gently brought them up and returned them to Ilya’s waist. He pulled Ilya’s vest top back over his shorts and tidied the fabric. Shane’s kisses turned lighter. He switched to nuzzling Ilya’s nape. “But mainly, I want to drink coffee with you and watch bad movies.”
Ilya felt tears prickle. He stepped to turn and Shane’s arms relaxed a little but did not let go as Ilya rotated around to face him. Those hands, so skilled out on the ice, so perfect on his skin, loosely latched around the curve of Ilya’s spine.
Shane’s gaze scanned Ilya’s face; Ilya watched as those brown eyes caught on his features, lingering on some longer than others. Ilya, for all he could often read Shane like a book, he could never really predict what he’d do. He never completely knew what went on in that brain. He wished he could know what went on in his own. His head drooped. Shane tilted to touch his lips to Ilya’s, encouraging his head back up. His mouth was warm. His kisses eased from his lips, and he mouthed away a stray tear from Ilya’s cheek.
“Did you remember to take your meds?” Shane asked quietly when he finally pulled back.
Ilya nodded.
“Good.”
“Even with,’ Ilya indicated with a brief glance down to where his dick was still mostly soft, ‘the side effects.”
Shane smiled gently. “Idiot.”
The coffee maker beeped three times more behind them to show it had done its job. Shane poured them each a cup and with his fingers around Ilya’s one thumb, drew them to the couch. He flicked the flatscreen on, sat and pulled Ilya into a comfortable position, his head resting in Shane’s lap.
So much had happened. So much could still happen…Ilya pressed his face into Shane’s thighs for a minute. He took solace from how strong they were and then he turned back to view the TV.
Shane was right.
It was summer and they were together.