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Shane was not known to be a drinker. He was one of their lightweights and generally opted to be a designated driver, but with his amazing goals today and the much-needed assists, the team decided that he should be offered all the drinks tonight. But after one too many shots and a chugging contest, he was completely wasted and flopping all over the couch of the private room in the club. The team was fretting over him and he was slurring his words. It wasn’t funny anymore. Because he looked like a poor puppy who needed to go home.
Luckily, Hayden and Shane knew each other's passcodes into their phones in case of a family emergency. Considering Shane was in no shape to get himself home and Jackie was with the kids in a hotel in the opposite direction, Hayden figured Boston Lily wouldn't mind taking her man home for the night. They've been together for years, after all.
Hayden had just pressed for the call when Shane was starting to get sick. J.J. was panicking and lifting Shane up.
"Hayden! We'll need help!"
Hayden had whirled around and barely registered the voice that came through the call.
"Hey, uhh, Lily. I'm Hayden, Shane's friend. We need you at Club SixThree. Shane needs help getting home. Dude, let him lean forward if he's gonna throw up!" Hayden dropped the call and went over to help them.
Shane wasn't throwing up, but he was definitely complaining about today's game. Of course Rosanov accompanied most of the problems today.
"Did you guys see him slamming me into the glass the way he did?! Isn't he such an asshole?!"
"Yeah, he's an asshole, buddy. We've known about this for a decade now. It’s who he is. People don't change habits that easy," Hayden agreed, rubbing Shane's back.
"He likes it rough a lot. Like he slams me down sometimes," Shane muttered.
Hayden and J.J. exchanged looks. Rosanov was known to be one of the league's toughest and he was brutal when checking anybody. Shane was a tough cookie himself. He could take Rosanov.
“I should take him outside for some air. The alcohol’s making him delirious,” Hayden sighed, steadily hauling Shane to his feet.
Shane pouted. “…’M not delirious…”
“We know, buddy.” It was like talking his kids down to sleep.
Hayden leaned Shane against the wall outside of the club. The music was still vibrating outside and the smell of asphalt and smoke was just as acrid as the musk and heavy alcohol inside. Shane was moaning, his head throbbing and pounding like the drinks he had a few moments ago.
Hayden checked the time along with the messages Jackie was sending him. He glanced down at Shane’s phone and saw the simple message from Boston Lily just a second after he had called. Will be there soon.
Very to the point. She didn’t even question what happened. She sure trusted Shane a lot. Or was waiting to fire questions at him once she took him home.
“Boston Lily should be here any minute now. She seemed close by,” he announced, texting Jackie a quick promise to be back soon to spend the rest of the trip with them. The kids needed to be herded into bed and Ruby found the sacred candy pocket in the luggage, so Jackie needed reinforcements.
Shane could barely lift his head, but his shock was just as present. "You called Lily to come get me?"
"Yeah, she was the last one you had texted. What, were you guys fighting?" Hayden winced at that. If he and Jackie weren’t married, she would very likely leave him on the street to save herself the embarrassment.
Shane scoffed. "Lily's the one who-"
The squeal of tires interrupted him. A bold orange Aston Martin swerved right against the curb and it got Hayden jumping and pulling Shane back out of fear that the car would smash them through the wall. The driver's door swung open and before Hayden could give him a piece of his mind, his jaw dropped when he saw Ilya fucking Rosanov strut out of the car. Rosanov? Why the fuck was he here? Did he track them here? He doesn't follow anyone on the team, in fact, they all blocked him collectively as a team. Maybe he came to avenge his team's loss tonight? He wasn't even dressed like he was meant to go out. He was wearing a wife beater and shorts like he just rolled off his couch at the last minute.
Ilya's face had an expression Hayden had never seen before. When he saw Shane, Hayden was prepared for a snarky remark and a look of smarmy disgust. But instead, something that looked like fondness flashed
in his eyes. It looked disgusting on him.
As soon as he saw Hayden, Ilya's face mirrored Hayden's disgust. Hayden could feel a layer of malice and something darker. Hatred... or jealousy? Of what?
"Pike, stop touching him. Now." Ilya growled that at him through his teeth. He shooed his hands at him like he was trying to get rid of a fly. Hayden shielded Shane behind him.
Ilya bristled as he glared at Hayden’s arm on Shane, clearly not appreciating the response.
"Rosanov, what are you doing here?" Hayden asked, hoping to sound a little bit intimidating. He wasn't sure if it worked.
Shane blinked his eyes open when he heard Hayden say Rosanov's name. The biggest, brightest smile Hayden had never seen before beamed from Shane to Rosanov.
“Ilyaaaa!” he sang, completely inebriated and surprising Hayden. But he flipped to pouting like an angry kitten. “You slammed me into the glass, you asshole."
Ilya smirked as he approached him. "I'm sorry." The smirk said otherwise.
Even drunk Shane could see through it. "No you're not."
Ilya raised his brows, shaking his head and biting his bottom lip suggestively. "No, was really hot."
Shane turned away with a huff, which didnt go unnoticed by the Russian.
Ilya leaned towards him and tilted his head to try and catch his face. "You're mad at me now?" he teased.
"...no..." Shane muttered. Ilya chuckled.
"моя любовь. Up, time to go home." There was a tenderness to how he spoke to Shane. Hayden couldn’t believe it. It sounded so foreign. More foreign than his Russian.
Shane made a face. "Home? But Montreal is so faaaar."
Ilya nodded patiently. "Your other home, Котик."
Other home? Did he mean Shane’s cottage? Rosanov needs to learn his geography. Ottawa wasn’t in Boston, dummy.
"Noooo, you're gonna tear my ass..." Shane whined, though he wasn’t trying to squirm away from Rosanov when he took him by the arm.
Ilya grinned and it didn’t allude to anything innocent. "Nothing you don't want. Come here."
Hayden jumped when he realized Rosanov had a hold onto Shane. He quickly held his ground and planted his feet, knowing fully well how much stronger the Russian was compared to him.
"Woah woah, what the fuck is this?! You're not taking Shane home, you asshole!" he snarled, afraid Shane would be found stranded in an alleyway and embarrassed. Or dead, considering how adamant Rosanov was to be alone with Shane.
The warmth in Ilya’s eyes vanished instantly. His grip on Shane tightened just enough.
"So who will take him home, Pike? You?" he spat. "You won't dare."
Hayden nodded firmly, "I won't. And neither will you. Lily will." Lily would make things easier. It’d be the both of them against Rosanov. Basically he needed a witness in case a scandal broke out if the media caught wind of this.
The vicious grin Ilya wore got Hayden all the more suspicious. Like Ilya knew about Lily.
"Ah, Lily." What the fuck is up with that tone? Hayden didn't like it at all. Like Rosanov was fucking with him. Which he does all the time with his stupid comments about Hayden's rank in the league.
Ilya came up close with his hand stretched out mockingly.
"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Fifteenth-Best-In-The-League. I'm Lily."
Hayden might have physically and mentally shut down.
What. In. The. Fuck.
“No. No fucking way. You’re fucking with me,” he muttered. Ilya’s cruel smirk etched into his memory like a laser.
“No, I’m fucking your captain.” That remark sent Hayden spiraling. This wasn’t fucking happening.
Rosanov pulled out his phone to show him a text on screen. ‘Will be there soon.’
The exact same text Lily had sent him. At the time she sent it. Holy shit. The pieces of the Lily puzzle began to assemble themselves in his head. Lily. Ilya. Boston. Lily is from Boston. Ilya is from Boston. Lily is Ilya. Ilya is Lily.
Ilya pulled his hand back and stepped towards Shane. He smacked Hayden’s hand off Shane and scooped the captain up into his arms. Shane instinctively curled around him and nuzzled his face into Ilya's neck. He glared for extra measure at Pike before turning away. Ilya smiled gently down at Shane and carried him towards the car easily. It took just a minute for Ilya to pop the door open and slot Shane comfortably in the seat. Like he did that all the time. Ilya even helped get the seat belt around Shane and clicked it securely in place.
"This okay, моя любовь?" he cooed. Shane grinned at him like a dopey drunk.
“I love you.” It warmed Ilya’s heart to see the sincere love in Shane’s eyes. Like he’d only say that to him. Even drunk, Shane was just too cute. Ilya kissed him chastely on the lips, promising a proper one when they got home.
“я тебя люблю.” He caressed his thumb over Shane’s cheek, admiring the freckles underneath the pad of this thumb and the sweet smile that he looked forward to seeing every night. And morning.
He shut Shane’s door and glanced over his shoulder to Pike, who was still dumbfounded on the curb. Whatever. He had a drunk kitten to spoil. He wasn’t going to bother with weak players right now.
Ilya started the car and took off before Hayden finally came to. He stumbled back into the club where J.J. was coming around the corner.
“Hey, where’s our capitain? His girlfriend showed up, yes?”
Hayden was waving his arms around. He was completely incoherent with his words. Rosanov, Lily, gay captain, save Shane. None of those came out correctly. J.J. sighed. Time to call Jackie to get her man too.
When Shane woke up, his eyes were assaulted by the sunlight streaming in. He groaned, his head throbbing from cheap vodka and bad decisions. The sheets he was tangled in were familiar and smelled of safety. He barely registered what he was wearing. Only his boxers, he could feel. He didn’t care where the rest of his clothes were, his head was killing him more than being practically naked was. In the blur that was beginning to clear, he saw a glass of water sitting on the nightstand with a note. ‘Drink your water and join me downstairs, Котик.’
Ilya. He was at Ilya’s house, he realized. But how did he end up here…? His ass didn’t feel like it was busted open. Did he just sleep last night? Who called Ilya?
The questions were hurting his head more than the hangover. He took time to brush his teeth and wash his face, the cold water helping to regain his focus. He needed to eat something, but water was a great start. After having the entire glass, he slowly made his way down to where Ilya was, holding his glass tenderly.
He found his boyfriend in the kitchen with coffee and some toast and eggs. Ilya had on just boxers as well, muscles ripped and gleaming from his morning shower. It looked so sweetly domestic, from his boyfriend making breakfast to him patiently waiting for Shane to wake up. Ilya was glaring down at his phone like it was to blame for whatever put him in this mood, but the look completely vanished when he saw Shane. He grinned widely and held his arms out.
“Good morning, моя любовь.” He beckoned Shane closer, which was answered obediently. Shane sat in his lap and Ilya’s arms looped around him, both falling into a deep kiss. Shane felt the hangover melt away, puddling into Ilya’s touch. He really missed being with him last night. He had been so tempted to ditch the afterparty and be with Ilya, but he told him to enjoy his victory and come home to him later for a private party. Seems like he missed it, but Shane was more than willing to make up for lost time.
A few kisses were shared before Shane pulled away. “Morning, love. Thank you for the water.”
Ilya shrugged. “Least I can do for hungover boyfriend. Eat, Солнышко. Nasty hangover is always cured with food.”
Shane tried to slide off his lap, but Ilya held him in place, a playful and sultry smirk on his face. Shane smiled stiffly.
“Ilya,” he started with a warning tone, but Ilya didn’t relent.
“In my lap, Солнышко. It’s my reward for picking you up last night like a good husband.”
Oh right, Shane wanted to ask him about that. And he was hungry, so he didn’t bother wasting more energy trying to wrestle away from him. Especially because Ilya would easily twist it into the two getting reacquainted in bed.
Ilya let him turn towards the food. As he quietly ate, Ilya turned his attention back to his phone, idly brushing his hand up and down Shane’s thigh. His firm, strong hand would occasionally venture up his body and give Shane’s pec a squeeze.
Shane ignored the heating shooting to his crotch and the breathy moan that begged to be heard while Ilya pressed a kiss against his nape. While sweet, Shane could feel the claim hidden in the kiss. He always got this way whenever he would read thirsty tweets about Shane. He would get a little insecure if anyone else showed interest in Shane, though he wasn’t sure if it was insecurity or proving to Shane how good he can make him feel. He glanced back and saw Ilya’s brows furrowed in deep concentration. Actually, he looked a little psychotic. He remembered seeing this look when Shane would mention him and Rose together that time ago.
His fork clattered on the plate as he finished. “Ilya,” he called out.
“Shane,” Ilya responded immediately, looking up to meet his eyes.
Shane gestured to his plate. “I’m finished.”
Ilya grinned and kissed his forehead. “Good boy.”
Shane swatted at him, his wrist caught by Ilya. “Fuck off.”
Ilya snuggled him aggressively. “My pleasure,” he purred, his accent still thick with the morning quiet.
Shane was swept up in Ilya’s arms and Shane held on for dear life on instinct. “Ilya!” he screeched, trying to squirm out of his hold.
Ilya held fast, taking him to the couch and setting him down before caging him in place. He grinned wickedly. Only a few months ago, Hollander had freaked out on him on this very couch and left Ilya for what he thought would be forever.
But now, they were each other’s forever.
“Just continuing the good husband service. I’d like my payment,” Ilya purred, diving into the crook of Shane’s neck and sucking fervently.
Shane’s eyes rolled back, pure molten heat shooting down his spine and pooling in his groin. Fuck, it felt so good. They hadn’t done it in a while since their schedules kept them separated. Phone sex wasn’t the same as the physical intimacy the both of them craved. Shane was aching to be split on his cock.
But he needed to know what happened last night. Before his hormones could take over, he wrenched himself away from Ilya’s lips.
“W-wait, wait. How did I end up here? I only remember feeling wasted at the club last night.”
Ilya made a face. “Really, Shane? Your future husband took you home. Story over. Sex now.”
Shane managed to shimmy up the couch so he was sitting up, staring at him in shock. “You took me home how? I was out with the team.”
His heart dropped. “Please don’t tell me that you came into the club, in front of my team, and carried me out.”
The idea of Ilya doing that in front of an asshole like Comeau wasn’t something Shane wants to deal with right now. Considering they were in Ilya’s house and not in jail meant they hadn’t crossed paths. Ilya would’ve ran Comeau’s shit.
Ilya rolled his eyes. “I didn’t go into the club. And we need to talk about your friendship with Pike. He is bad friend.”
Shane glared at him defensively. “Hayden’s my best friend.”
“Best friend shouldn’t be touching like that. I have boyfriend privileges to touch. He has none. Friendship with Pike is over. And I will make him crash into ice at next game.” Ilya voice dripped with so much venom that it got Shane shuddering with fear. Or lust.
He needed help.
“Okay, you’re not making sense. What happened?”
Ilya scowled. “I was home, enjoying my night even though your team won. All thanks to you, not because of team, especially not Pike. I get call from your phone. I answer, Pike tells me you need help getting home, which makes him shitty friend for making someone he never met take you home.”
Shane raised a brow. “And you would’ve been fine if he took me home?”
“No,” Ilya snapped. Shane shook his head. Such a baby.
“And I drive to get you from club-“ Shane’s eyes widened. His boyfriend was an attention-grabber. He literally fell in love with the worst possible person when it came to discretion when he didn’t think it was necessary.
“In what car?” he asked, afraid he would say-
“Aston,” Ilya answered, clearly annoyed he would think of another car.
“Ilya!”
“What?! It is fastest car and I worry about you. Especially since Pike got into your phone. Why does he get to know your passcode but I don’t?” Ilya whined.
Shane stared at him emotionlessly. “Because you’d make me block my team. Wait.”
How could he ignore something so important? Why did Hayden call Ilya? Hayden would never willing contact Ilya, unless maybe to chirp at him before a game. On social media. Shane always kept Ilya’s presence at the lowest minimum on his phone. A heavy pit formed in his stomach. “Hayden called you? How? Why?”
Ilya groaned and rolled his eyes. “I was getting to that part, моя любовь. Hayden called Lily. Made stupid noise over phone to tell me to come get you. Hung up on me, very rude. I show up, see his handon you, get mad and take you from him. He said he called Lily. I told him I am Lily.”
If he didn’t feel safe in Ilya’s arms, he would’ve felt the entire world shattering under his feet. Shane let out a wail, covering his face with both hands and anguishing underneath him. Ilya and Hayden interacted. In absolutely the worst way possible. This is NOT how he wanted Hayden to find out. This was an absolute nightmare. Even his parents finding out about them turned into something wholesome despite the bats in Shane’s stomach gnawing at his insides.
Hayden? This could be so much worse. Hayden HATED Ilya. And Ilya despised Hayden. For more reasons other than hockey.
“I feel sick,” he muttered, discomfort swirling in his gut. Ilya immediately grabbed his face, thumbing his freckles tenderly.
“It’s okay, моя любовь. Let me get you water. You still feel hungover,” he cooed.
Shane groaned. “Not the hangover! Hayden knows!”
Ilya rolled his eyes. “Oh. That. You can dump him from best friend status if he has bad reaction.”
Shane glared at him. Why was he so nonchalant about this?!
“Where’s my phone? I need to talk to him. And explain things. I don’t even fucking know how.”
Ilya growled. If Hayden gave Shane an ounce of attitude and disrespect, he was siccing his entire team against him at the next Montreal game. Chirp at Ilya all you want. He couldn’t give less of a fuck. Chirp at Shane? His Shane?
Montreal’s team would all be on injured list. Mystery, really.
“I don’t like him,” he muttered lowly.
Shane gave him an incredulous look. “I think you told me by now, you baby. Get me my phone. I know you have it.”
Ilya had the audacity to look offended. “Why me?”
“Because you’re always trying to hack my phone. Go get it, please.”
Ilya sighed deeply, silently getting up to retrieve it like a loyal husband. He was so much better than Hayden Pike. He is a mid player, horrible friend, serial impregnator. Why was he Shane’s best friend?
He grumble something as he handed Shane the phone, then laid his head on Shane’s chest. The rapid beating of Shane’s heart was a good indicator of how afraid he was of Hayden’s reaction. Hayden supported Shane ever since rookie season. They basically grew up together on the team. Shane was scared about what Hayden would say to him. It’s not like they talked about gay people. He didn’t know if he would judge him.
The phone ringing was the eeriest wait he had ever been through, probably second to his wait during the draft. Nausea churned in his stomach as he waited for an answer. Maybe Hayden would block him, out him to the team. He didn’t know. He didn’t want to assume horrible things from his best friend, but the voices in his head were fucking with everything. He would be disgusted. He would hate him. He would think of him as less than human.
But when Hayden answered, Shane felt all of the air suck out of him.
“Hey, buddy,” Hayden started, sounding tired like he barely slept. It could’ve been the kids. It could’ve been because of Shane.
Shane swallowed despite the dryness in his throat. “H-hey. Ummm.”
He glanced down at Ilya, who was staring into him like he was poised for war. It made Shane feel safer.
“Look, Hayden. A-about last night…with…” he choked up, the anxiety mounting higher as he tried to talk, “when Ilya-“
“Shane,” Hayden interrupted firmly, Shane’s heart almost breaking, “I love you, man.”
Shane paused, hope creeping up underneath the anxiety. Ilya’s eyes darkened. This is not where he was expecting this would go. First Rose Landry and now this asshole? He scanned their living room for the keys to his Aston, silently gauging how fast he would need to go to find Hayden Pike.
Shane couldn’t sense the murderous intent.
“W-wait, what?” he asked, allowing himself the smallest smile.
“Not like that!” Hayden corrected quickly. “I don’t care if you’re gay. You’re my best friend. That doesn’t change. Ever. It’s just-“
He sighed over the phone. Shane could hear papers shuffling in the background. “I couldn’t sleep last night. Not your fault at all. I was…”
He trailed off, the sound of shuffling intensifying. “I made an entire fucking list of way better dudes than Rosanov!”
Shane deliberately ignored the demonic red in Ilya’s eyes, Hayden’s words obscenely clear.
“этот ублюдок…” Ilya hissed, attempting to get up and run to his car. Shane immediately locked his legs around his waist, securing the angry Russian in place. His thighs and calves tightened and flexed to prevent him from leaving.
Hayden continued like he had no idea what was happening. “You can’t date Rosanov, man! He’s the worst! The absolute worst! He’s an asshole, his dick has been in more holes than the amount of manholes around Montreal! Let me start with my number one pick. Jackie’s best friend’s cousin is a great guy! He can eat your bird food, he likes nature…”
Ilya was going to fucking kill him. How dare he think Shane should leave him? He was the only one for him. Ilya would grovel at his feet if Shane even entertained the thought of leaving him. He already had plans to buy the place across from Shane’s and the closest cottage nearby if Shane tried.
He was staying, damn anyone who wants them to break up.
Shane holding him down was such an adorable attempt. He forgets Ilya could easily pick him up and take him to his car. He would need Shane anyway so he can lead the way to Pike’s house. Very romantic date, ending with killing bad best friend. But somehow, Shane managed to read his mind and flipped them around so he was on top of Ilya, shocking him. Ilya completely froze at the sight of his future husband breathing quietly, like he hadn’t just wrestled on top of him.
It made Ilya’s cock feel tight against the fabric of his underwear. Shane taking charge was so fucking hot.
“Боже мой,” he whimpered. Shane could ride him just like this. Ilya was completely at his mercy.
Shane sighed, rubbing his eyes knowing that he had to protect his ass in multiple ways. “Hayden, I really appreciate you looking out for me. But Ilya isn’t going anywhere. I love him.”
Ilya’s heart grew, each heartbeat warming his soul.
“I don’t want anyone else and I don’t need anyone else either. He is the only one for me. I know I’ve said a lot of things about him, but I can never say what I really feel about him because everyone would suspect and judge us. I don’t want that.”
“Shane, I wouldn’t let anyone talk shit about you. I’ll fuck them up,” Hayden promised bravely. He wouldn’t stop anyone chirping about Rosanov, but if Shane gets upset, Hayden would support him. Always.
Ilya rolled his eyes. “You have weak backhand, his backhand even weaker. Don’t think he knows how.”
Shane immediately covered Ilya’s mouth, not wanting to let this important bonding time with Hayden go. He chuckled a bit. “Thanks, man. I’ll have ‘em take numbers.”
Ilya didn’t care for this moment, this phone call was taking far too long. Hayden should not allowed to call during his time with Shane. It was the weekend, and Ilya had all intentions to use every minute to show Shane how much he needed him. To free his mouth, he grabbed Shane’s hand, running a deliberate lick in his palm.
Shane whipped his hand away, but Ilya snatched it back, leaning forward to latch his mouth around Shane’s thumb and sucked. His cheeks hollowed, moaning around his thumb and swirling his tongue to feel the calluses that decorated along the pads. Shane quickly tried to jump off his lap, determined to finish the phone call on a wholesome note. But Ilya wrapped his arms around his waist to cage him in his lap, sitting him on top of his growing erection. Shane bit the bottom of his lip as he felt Ilya’s cock gliding up and down his ass.
“Thanks for being my b-best friend, Hayd. I-I don’t want you to think I was hiding being gay because I didn’t trust you. I didn’t tr-trust myself at first to admit it.” Shane slapped Ilya’s hand creeping over to grab his ass.
“It’s no big deal! Well, I mean, yeah. I would’ve hoped you would tell me sooner, I would never judge anyone about that. But I’m not gonna make this about me.”
“Галантный. Какой мужчина!” Ilya muttered sarcastically. Shane smacked his shoulder, which Ilya responded to by slapping his ass and groping it. Shane swallowed the squeak that tried to escape his throat.
“Thanks, buddy. I’ll see you at practice?” he gritted out, grabbing Ilya’s wrist to pull his hand away.
“Hell yeah! Love you man. In a best friend way,” Hayden added with a grin.
Shane, despite putting all the effort trying to fight Ilya off, smiled gently. “Love you too, buddy.”
Ilya tossed Shane’s phone onto a cushion after he hung up, grinning up at him with barely restrained malice. “You love Hayden? Should I be jealous?”
Shane flashed him a deadpan look. “You’d be jealous even without me saying no. You’re still jealous about Rose. And that was even after I told you I was gay!”
Ilya grit his teeth. “That was different. I had to see stupid celebrity gossip about you and her.”
Shane rolled his eyes. He knew Ilya too well. He knew Ilya was stalking Shane and Rose during that time, always watching for them and analyzing every article that came out about them.
He’d watch any and every photo and interview that involved Shane and Hayden interacting and piss himself off in the process of learning Hayden’s weaknesses.
Shane pinned him with a glare. “No checking Hayden on the ice for any reason other than getting the puck. Nothing like what you did to me.”
Ilya rolled his eyes. “Like he even gets the puck that long.”
“Stop that. I mean it. Chirp at each other, fine. But no petty shit that involves physical harm.”
Ilya groaned, making an open-mouthed, strangled noise that signaled his discontent. He was very lucky Ilya loved him. And if he can’t get rid of stupid best friend, then he can look like an angel and make Pike look bad instead. What was it called in English? Manipulation? He can do that.
“Fine. Now no more talk about horrible best friend. I want to fuck my beautiful husband with pretty freckles.” Despite Shane rolling his eyes, he obediently began taking off his shirt. He was still over the moon with his talk with Hayden. He was out to one other person in his life who he loved. And they still loved him. He still has Ilya. Shane couldn’t be happier.
As he ground his hips down onto Ilya’s cock, he hoped one day he could walk out in public with Ilya and say that they were together out loud.
He’s about to take that all back when Ilya drove them to Hayden's hotel the next day in his fucking Aston Martin because the jeep’s keys were suddenly ‘lost.’