Work Text:
Shane watched Ilya approaching the car in the rear view mirror with butterflies swirling in his stomach. They would finally have some real time to themselves, no sneaking in back doors or code names or cover stories.
The ride to the cottage passed pleasantly with light hearted teasing and hand holding. The silences were so comfortable and the anxiety that had built up as Shane drove to the airport melted away with every gentle rub of Ilya’s thumb over his.
When the cottage came into view, nervous excitement buzzed out of both of them like static from the radio. They threw each other boyish little grins and Ilya pecked Shane on the cheek before bouncing out of the passenger door.
“Do not think about it, neposlushnyy kotenok,” Ilya gently stepped in front of Shane to grab his bags out of the trunk.
“Wh-I can get your bags, you’re my guest!” Always a well mannered boy, he made a grab at the shoulder strap only for his hand to be smacked away with a stern look.
“No. I will carry them, you are injured,” Ilya looked at him pointedly.
Shane’s inhale could have been mistaken for a gasp. He had played with slightly bruised ribs during that final game, but what other choice did he have? It was one game and his team needed him! Not that he played well, but he was their captain, he couldn’t abandon the team in their final hour.
And how had Ilya found out?
“Ho-”
“It was obvious. The way you carried yourself, the way you skate. Even weaker backhand. The hit you took the game before.” Shane couldn’t believe how easily Ilya read him, even through the TV!
He let them in the front door and watched Ilya nervously as he took in the cottage for the first time. After a lap around the living and dining areas Ilya made his way back to Shane, grabbing his hips and pulling him close.
“It is beautiful, kotenok, just like you,” Ilya praised, followed by a gentle kiss.
Shane’s lips chased Ilya’s as he pulled away, it had been so long and he wanted more. Where was he going?
“It is too bad we must start vacation with punishment.”
“What??” Shane couldn’t comprehend the words.
Punishment?! The hands on his hips tightened and started steering him backwards towards the perfectly styled couch. He couldn’t believe how quickly they had turned on him.
“Yes. Is funny, I remember talking to my Jane after the third game where you took that big hit from Hughs. Asking what the team doctor said. I do not remember you saying ‘bruised ribs, I am questionable for next game.’”
“Well, it wasn’t really like that…” It had kind of been exactly like that, and even then Shane knew Dr. Williams could tell he was downplaying the pain as she prodded him.
“No? What did doctor say after game three then?” Ilya pressed.
Like most good boys, Shane was a terrible liar. While Ilya didn’t think the guilt from hiding this injury would have eaten away at Shane like some other things, he did want Shane to know that one, health and safety were the top priority and two, Ilya always knows.
“She…she said…” Shane was a little ashamed at how quickly he was about to crack, “Alright, she said she didn't think they'd cracked and she’d check again before game four! But then she did! And I could play!”
“You say you could play, not that she cleared you to play, neposlushnyy kotenok.” Ilya had finally gotten them to the couch and sat down, keeping Shane trapped between his knees looking like the naughty kitten he was.
Shane blew out his breath in defeat, he was so bad at lying. It was no use. And Ilya always knew. He frantically wondered if there were any self help books for bad liars to get out of trouble with their big Russian boyfriends.
“Okay fine! She said she didn’t recommend it. Are you happy?”
“No,” Ilya said simply. He suddenly took one hand to raise Shane’s shirt up to kiss his stomach and look over his (still bruised) ribcage, “And how are you now? Still pain?”
“I’m fineee, I promise,” Shane whined and started to attempt to step away.
“Good.”
Before Shane could blink Ilya pulled him off balance and he fell artfully over one of Ilya’s spread knees with his torso laying on the soft couch.
“Hey!” Shane tried to push himself up, but was held in place embarrassingly easily by his stupid Russian. He blamed the ribs.
“We will talk here now, I think.” Ilya told him while rubbing an ominous hand over his currently clothed butt.
“It is not okay to bully doctor to giving you pass just because you are Shane Hollander. This is hockey, you will get hurt and doctor knows what is safe. You want long career? You listen to doctor.” Ilya’s voice had lost its sweet croon and he landed the first two crisp smacks without warning.
Shane yelped and squirmed, taken by surprise at how much that could sting even through his shorts. He wasn’t really trying to avoid what was next, he just hated Ilya being mad at him. Especially when it was obvious he was worried about his boy's well being.
“Shorts were not naughty,” Ilya muttered as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of the non-offending shorts and briefs and yanked them down to mid thigh, eliciting a high pitched whine.
Once they settled back into a ‘comfortable’ position, Ilya laid down two more smacks on each cheek in exactly the same place, stacking up the sting before continuing his scolding.
“Rib injuries are common, you know is dangerous to play. Breathing shallow can make chest infection or pneumonia, cracks break and puncture lung or worse. Pain distracts you, make you vulnerable for more injury. Is not okay.”
Ilya was making some good points and sounded so scared. It was always obvious when the big Russian was emotional because he would lose some English, articles were usually the first to go. It was making Shane’s chest ache again, and not from the lingering bruises.
“I’m sorry,” Shane breathed out in a pitiful whisper, tears already flowing.
Ilya sighed and petted Shane’s hair, soothing him even though Shane was the guilty one. Unfortunately, that comforting gesture was immediately followed by the spanking starting in earnest.
The rhythm was erratic and hard to anticipate. Each smack strong, building the heat and sting shockingly quickly. Shane grabbed a microvelvet throw pillow to fist his hands into and avoid throwing them behind him and earning mean swats to his thighs. His legs started twitching, a precursor to embarrassing little kicks, before Ilya continued his reprimands.
“You lied to me about my boyfriend hurting, and then you put him in danger. Is not okay. Da?”
“I’m sorry! I didn’t want to let everyone down! But I did anyway, even you!” He sobbed.
The dam had cracked. Ilya paused the spanking, rubbing his hands over the dark pink bottom over his lap and across Shane’s back. Shane slowly started to calm down.
Ilya had kind of been expecting this; it was how they had come to their dynamic in the first place. Shane was only just learning to be kind to himself. He had always put others first and neglected his needs and called it manners. He restricted severely and pushed his body to and past its limits and called it discipline. The weight of his expectations crushed him sometimes. The two of them did this so Ilya could take some responsibility from him. Give him reasonable expectations, praise him for taking care of himself, help him release his guilt when necessary.
“Shhh, I know. It is hard to not be there for your team. You are a great captain and leader. You took them to the Cup. Injuries happen, they know you will always do your best for them. You are more important than hockey, da?”
When Shane didn’t reply he smacked the top of each thigh with force and smirked at the little squeak.
“You are more important than hockey, da?” He repeated.
The ‘yeah’ was quiet, but it was there. Good enough.
“Good boy. We finish now, kotenok. Then you will show me our nice bed for a cuddle and nap.”
He didn’t wait for a response this time. He set back to work turning the ass over his lap red and absolving Shane of his guilt. Wanting to end this punishment soon he brought his hand down harder than before. Not for nothing, he was a professional athlete. Each smack pulled a sweet noise from Shane, starting with hisses, then Ilya’s favorite squeaks, then quiet protests of ‘ah!’ ‘no!’ and ‘Ilyaa!’
Finally, after Shane’s ass was glowing and Ilya’s palm throbbed, Shane let go. He melted into the couch and cried loud sobs while Ilya rubbed soothing pressure on his back. It was both heart wrenching and relieving for Ilya. This was how his boy could move past this and confront the lies he tells himself with clarity, but it was hard to get Shane here.
“You did so good, kotenok, I’m so proud of you moya lyubov'. Come here, let me love you.” Ilya pulled Shane up to sit on his lap as comfortably as possible, though it still caused him to hiss and pout.
They sat on the couch for a few more minutes. Shane tucked into Ilya’s neck trying to regulate his breath and Ilya alternating between squeezing and petting and kissing any exposed skin.
“I’m sorry,” Shane whispered from his nook.
“Da, all is well, kotenok. But we might need to say, what are they called? You say into the mirror nice things to yourself.”
“Affirmations?” Shane pushed back so he could see Ilya’s face and half his pout turned into a smirk.
“Yes, this. Affirmations. We will say them into the mirror every day until you mean them.” Ilya smacked a kiss onto Shane’s cheek and stood up with Shane in his arms with ridiculous ease.
“Now, where is the bedroom?” Ilya looked into Shane’s dark, still teary eyes, and was glad to see his little smile was genuine.
Shane pointed and let himself be carried and deposited on his stomach in their bedroom. When he reached for Ilya, he had somehow already disappeared and Shane started to panic. But then Ilya’s broad frame appeared in the doorway with electrolyte waters and finally joined him in their bed. Ilya helped Shane sip water until he had his fill, and then had him sip a little more.
“You look so cute, little neposlushnyy kotenok. Naughty red bottom on display for me.” Ilya murmured in Shane’s ear.
“Oh my god, no I don’t!!” Shane protested with all the energy he had, which frankly, was not a lot.
“Yes, you do,” Ilya whispered and pulled Shane so his head was resting on Ilya’s chest.
It wasn’t fair that Ilya said things like that when Shane was too tired to argue. He decided to let it go and get back at Ilya later, but for now having their first nap of vacation sounded like heaven.