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“So if I meet any nice single gay guys who aren’t named David…” J.J. trailed off hopefully.
“Introduce them to David,” Shane said. “Really. I’ll let you know if I’m ever looking, okay?”
Which would hopefully be never.
J.J. finally headed out, still talking over his shoulder about texting the guy and how Shane should “at least look at a picture,” the door swinging shut behind him.
Then the locker room was quiet, save for the low hum of the vents and the distant echo of voices down the hall.
Shane exhaled roughly and scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck.
Hayden came back from the showers a second later, his hair damp and a towel wrapped low around his waist. He glanced toward the door J.J. had just disappeared through, then back at Shane.
“Did he try to set you up with that guy?”
Shane frowned. “He told you?”
He didn’t like the idea of his love life being discussed like line combinations or travel plans.
“Yeah, he told me.”
Shane huffed out a breath. “Why didn’t you, like, discourage him?”
“Because the dude sounded perfect for you.” Hayden immediately held his hands up as outrage flashed across Shane’s features. “What? I just think you can do better!”
Shane’s mouth dropped open.
“For fuck’s sake, Hayden.”
Hayden laughed as he crossed the room and dropped down onto the bench beside him, nudging Shane’s arm with his elbow.
“I’m kidding. Mostly. Besides-”
Shane closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“It’s not funny.”
Hayden hesitated. Shane could tell he was trying to find a way to pivot or keep it light.
“Okay, but seriously, he’s-”
Shane didn’t even hear the rest of it. His brain had already gone somewhere else.
To Ilya.
His sweet, infuriating, ridiculously unfairly attractive boyfriend.
To the way he looked when he smiled, when all his sharp edges softened at once. To the way he laughed, loud and unrestrained, like he didn’t care who was watching. To the way he touched him, like it was second nature, like his body belonged next to Shane’s. The way it could light him up in an instant and make fire bloom under his skin and through every nerve ending. And then just as easily, how his touch could steady him with nothing more than a hand at his waist or an arm slung around his shoulders.
Ilya’s arms were one of the only places Shane ever really let himself relax.
And the thought that anyone else could ever be better for him was so far off it was almost laughable.
Almost.
Shane’s thoughts twisted. If Ilya knew about this, he’d be pissed. Angry and possessive. Shane certainly would be, if this was reversed. He'd be fucking homicidal.
Shane could picture it on Ilya. The sharp look, the tightness around his mouth, the way his shoulders would go rigid before he said something cutting and defensive.
Why do you need someone else? Is he better than me? You think he can touch you like I do?
But under the bravado and the anger would be something so much worse. Ilya would be so sad. Shane knew it absolutely. He knew the way Ilya sometimes disappeared into himself, the way his mood could dip without warning, the way he struggled with things Shane wasn’t always allowed to see.
Even still, he could picture it too clearly, too easily; Ilya nodding and saying something dry and self-deprecating.
Absolutely, Hollander. You should go. Sounds like a good guy. Much better option for you.
Like of course Shane could do better, should want better. Like it was obvious.
It made Shane feel a little sick.
“Hey,” Hayden said in a conciliatory tone, though there was no real apology in it. He leaned back slightly, scrubbing a hand through his damp hair. “Look. I fucking hate the guy, but if he’s what you want…”
The words chafed. It felt wrong, all wrong, like someone humoring a bad decision.
Shane took a slow breath and, very carefully, tried to keep his composure.
“He’s it for me, Hayden,” he said. “I mean it. He has been for a long time.”
Hayden made a face and didn't even try to hide it. Something in Shane snapped.
“Did I fucking say anything like this to you,” he shot back, his voice rising despite himself, “when you told me you knew Jackie was the one?”
Hayden opened his mouth, then closed it again. Shane didn’t let him recover.
“Did I tell you, ‘well, if she’s what you want?’”
The words came out sharp, cutting. Hayden shifted, finally looking a little uncomfortable.
“No,” he admitted. “But Shane, that’s Jackie, and this is…” he trailed off as he glanced toward the door and lowered his voice. “This is that guy.”
Shane saw red. All the restraint he’d been holding onto, all the careful balancing between Hayden and Ilya, all the years of trying to keep the peace between two people who mattered too much to him, slipped all at once.
“He is mine,” Shane said, flat and final. “There is no one else for me.”
Hayden blinked, startled. But Shane was already moving. He grabbed his bag, not bothering to say anything else, not trusting himself to stay another second without saying something worse. The door banged a little too hard behind him as he left.
When he hit the parking lot, the night air felt sharp in his lungs. The cold was just biting enough to cut through the fury still simmering under his skin.
Shane didn’t slow down until he reached his car. He dropped into the driver’s seat a little harder than he meant to and slammed the door shut behind him. For a second he just sat there, hands tight on the steering wheel, breath uneven.
Then he huffed out a sharp breath, reached for his phone, and typed a message to Jackie.
how mad will you be if I knock out some of your husband’s teeth
The reply came almost immediately.
probably not very. odds are he had it coming
what did he do?
Shane stared at the screen. He started typing, then stopped. Deleted it. It felt… stupid, suddenly. Petty. Like he was tattling.
He leaned his head back against the seat, closing his eyes, trying to figure out how to explain something that felt too big and too hurtful to put into a text.
His phone buzzed again.
oh wait is this about the guy jj mentioned? ughh
he said some bullshit to you didn’t he?
i told him to leave it the fuck alone
Shane let out a breath through his nose and typed back:
it is, yeah
His phone rang before he could send anything else.
He stared at the screen for half a second, then answered.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Jackie said, already exasperated. “I’m so sorry, Shane. I’ve talked to him about this. Multiple times.”
Shane sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face.
“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s not your fault. I’m not mad at you. I just-”
He trailed off, suddenly unsure how to put it into words. Jackie didn’t push him, just waited patiently as he gathered his thoughts.
“It’s just… exhausting,” Shane said finally, staring out through the windshield, not really seeing anything. “I can’t just… be normal about it.”
“Normal how?”
“Like everyone else,” he said, sharper than he meant to. Then, softer, “Like you guys are.”
He swallowed.
“I can’t talk about Ilya. I can’t bring him to games or team events. I can’t just say, ‘yeah, this is my person,’ or ‘this is the love of my life,’ and have that be the end of it. Everyone’s fucking weird about it because we’re both men.”
Jackie made a low, sympathetic sound on the other end.
“And then,” Shane went on bitterly, “every time someone does find out it’s Ilya, it’s like…” He let out a short, frustrated breath. “They make the same fucking face. Or they say something awful. Or they get all incredulous about it. Like it’s gross, or it’s a joke, or it’s-”
He cut himself off, jaw tightening.
“Shane,” Jackie said softly.
“He’s not,” Shane said, more firmly now. “He’s not any of that.”
His grip tightened around his phone.
“He’s-” He stopped, searching for it, then pushed through. “He’s good. He’s kind. He’s… yeah, he’s a little shit sometimes, but-”
A small, helpless piece of a laugh slipped out of him, echoed by Jackie’s quiet chuckle on the other end.
“He’s my favorite person in the whole world.”
The words hung there, heavy and honest.
“And it just-” Shane shook his head, even though she couldn’t see it. “It fucking hurts. When people talk about him like that. Or act like I should want something else. Like I could do better. But I can’t. He’s… everything to me.”
There was a pause.
Then, very gently, Jackie said, “I’m so sorry, Shane. It’s not fair. Not any of it. Not being able to be open, and the way everyone talks about Ilya. It’s fucked up. You have every right to be upset.”
Shane blinked, his throat tightening. He exhaled slowly, staring up at the roof of his car.
“I just want J.J. and Hayden to stop doing this,” he said. “Like… permanently.”
“I know,” Jackie said, her voice tired but sympathetic. “I do too. I don’t know how to get it through their skulls. I’ve tried.”
Shane chewed at his thumbnail, thinking.
“…I have an idea,” he said finally.
There was a pause.
“But it’s kind of petty,” he added. “Really petty. And dramatic. So, probably a bad idea."
"Oh?"
"Unless, of course, I were to have your blessing?”
Jackie cackled immediately.
“Oh my god,” she said. “Yes. Tell me everything.”
A few minutes later, they hung up, both of them still snickering breathlessly over the plan. Shane sat in his car for another minute, engine still off, phone in his hand, feeling much calmer now. He scrolled, found Rose’s contact, and typed.
hey, random, but your friend amelia still lives in montreal right?
The reply came almost instantly.
lol yes why
Shane’s mouth twitched.
do you think she’d be up for helping me get revenge on some idiot hockey players?
The next home game, Shane said yes to going out for drinks, even though he hardly ever did and even though Hayden and J.J. were both pleasantly (almost insultingly) surprised.
And even though Ilya, who had a matinee home game in Ottawa that afternoon, would be waiting for Shane at his condo by the time they made it to the bar.
“You sure?” J.J. asked as they were finishing up in the locker room. “You hate going out.”
“I’m sure,” Shane said, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. “I kinda snapped at both of you the other day.”
Hayden snorted. “You did more than snap.”
“Yeah, well.” Shane slung his jacket on. “I wanna make it up to you. I know you guys only have my best interests at heart.”
That seemed to settle it.
“Alright,” J.J. said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Let’s go then.”
The club was loud and crowded, the kind of place Shane usually avoided, but tonight he scanned the room once and spotted Amelia almost immediately. She caught his eye and smiled knowingly. He gave a small nod in return while Hayden and J.J. remained completely unaware.
They got drinks, found a spot, and settled in. Shane stayed fairly quiet through the first round, letting them talk while he nodded along and tapped his glass idly. After a while he stood, saying he would go grab them all another round.
J.J. blinked at him. “Who are you and what have you done with Shane?”
Hayden laughed. “Man’s cutting loose.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Shane replied with a shrug.
At the bar, he did not have to wait long before Amelia slid in beside him like it was nothing, like they had done this a hundred times before.
“Hey, you,” she said easily.
“Hey,” Shane replied, matching her tone, pulling her into a quick, warm hug as they exchanged genuine smiles and greetings.
They made small talk. But from across the room it looked like something a little more. After a minute, Shane shifted and angled slightly, pointing back toward the table, and Amelia followed his gesture before lifting her hand in a small, flirty wave and winking.
Perfect.
Shane laughed at something she said and leaned in just a little closer, playing it up enough to read from a distance, and right on cue the drinks arrived. He scooped them up, murmured something low that made her laugh again, then turned and headed back to the table with her at his side like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Guys,” he said, setting the drinks down, “This is-”
“Amelia,” she said smoothly, slipping into the booth beside Hayden, nearly flush to his side. She bit her lip and let her gaze linger on him in a way that was just a little too interested.
“She’s a friend of Rose’s,” Shane added casually, “and a big fan of yours, Hayd.”
Amelia nodded, keeping her full attention on Hayden.
“I love watching you play.”
Hayden blinked at her, clearly a little thrown, while J.J. just stared.
“I’m glad I’m finally able to introduce you two,” Shane added.
On cue, Amelia smiled and tilted her head, studying Hayden more closely.
“You’re really good, you know.”
Hayden let out a short, awkward laugh. “I’m alright.”
“Seriously,” she said, leaning in just a fraction as her hand draped over his forearm like it might have been accidental. “The way you read plays is kind of insane.”
Hayden glanced down at where she had touched him, then back up, visibly scrambling.
“Oh. Uh. Thanks.”
Shane took a slow sip of his drink and watched over the rim.
Amelia smiled again, softer and more sultry this time.
“I’ve been trying to get my friends into hockey, but they don’t get it,” she said with a light laugh. “They just think I’m here for the hot guys, not the game.”
“Is that right?” Hayden said, avoiding her eyes.
She bumped her shoulder lightly against his and dropped her voice just enough to shift the tone.
“But, you know, I can definitely appreciate both.”
“You probably have a hard time focusing on the score when Hayden’s on the ice though, huh?” Shane asked, tipping his head slightly.
Amelia lit up immediately as she caught the cue.
“Oh, yeah,” she said, a soft, breathy laugh slipping out as her gaze dragged over Hayden in a way that was just this side of inappropriate. “It’s honestly kind of a problem. I mean… the way he moves out there? It’s very distracting.”
Hayden choked slightly on his drink.
“Distracting how?” Shane asked, like he was genuinely curious. He fought to keep the grin off his face.
Amelia turned a little more toward Hayden. She bit her lip, shaking her head like she was trying and failing to be subtle.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Just… confident. Strong. It’s hard not to notice.”
Hayden looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor.
While Amelia kept talking, focused entirely on Hayden, J.J. leaned over toward Shane, his own voice low and urgent.
“What are you doing?” he hissed under his breath.
Shane didn’t even look at him.
“What?” he murmured back. “She’d be a good fit for him.”
He took another sip of his cocktail before finally glancing over.
“Smart, pretty, put together.”
J.J.’s face dropped as the realization started to hit him. He leaned back in his seat and drug a hand down his face like he was already accepting whatever was about to happen.
Amelia, meanwhile, kept going.
“I should probably go find my friends soon,” she said, biting her lip slightly as her eyes flicked over Hayden’s chest, “but I’d kind of hate to not talk to you again.”
Hayden froze. “Uh-”
She reached out again and laid her hand over his on the table.
“Could I give you my number?”
Hayden seemed to short-circuit completely. “Th-thanks, I’m-I’m flattered, but I’m married, so-”
“Aw, don’t worry about that,” Shane cut in immediately, waving a hand like it was barely relevant. “Here, I’ll just give you his number.”
Hayden turned to him in outright horror.
“Shane, buddy, I-”
But Shane was already taking Amelia’s phone, tapping at the screen like this was a completely normal social interaction, while J.J. watched slack-jawed and Hayden looked like he might actually die on the spot.
Amelia leaned toward Shane a little, glancing between the guys with a conspiratorial smile.
“You know,” she said lightly, “Rose and I are always joking about how chic it would be to be someone’s second wife.”
She tilted her head, eyes flicking back to Hayden, as her smile turned just a touch more mischievous.
“And honestly? Being a hot stepmom sounds like a lot of fun.”
Shane threw his head back and laughed, completely unrestrained, while Hayden and J.J. both choked on their drinks, coughing and sputtering as they turned to stare at each other in disbelief.
“There you go,” Shane said cheerfully, handing the phone back.
“Perfect,” Amelia said, beaming. “Thank you.”
She shot Hayden a bright smile and a quick, playful wink before slipping back into the crowd, disappearing with one last look over her shoulder.
For a moment, none of them spoke. Then Hayden slowly looked up at Shane, his eyes full of betrayal and confusion.
“…Dude, what the fuck was that?” he demanded, his voice strained and panicked. “Are you trying to get Jackie to murder me?”
“What? I just think you could do better,” Shane said, blinking at him with wide-eyed innocence.
For a moment, they just stared at each other.
Hayden looked like he’d just been hit over the head with something. Shane gazed placidly back at him while J.J.’s eyes bounced between them like he was following a tennis match.
A second later, Hayden’s mouth fell open as the panic shifted into something else entirely.
“Oh, fuck you, man.”
Shane just shrugged and took a sip of his drink, calm as anything. J.J. leaned back in his seat, shaking his head. Hayden scrubbed a hand down his face, still rattled.
“I hate you,” he muttered.
Shane shrugged again. “Good.”
J.J. looked between them, his eyes narrowing slightly as the gears clearly started turning. Then he turned to Shane.
“You are seeing someone,” he said. “That’s why you want me to stop trying to set you up on blind dates.”
“That’s part of it,” Shane agreed, nodding. “The other part is that I already fucking said stop after the first time.”
J.J. winced as color rose in his face.
“Yeah. Okay. That’s fair.” He shot a sideways glance at Hayden. “You knew?”
Hayden nodded stiffly. J.J.’s head whipped fully toward him.
“You told me to keep trying!”
Hayden coughed and stared down at the ring of condensation around his drink.
“Well. I just. You know-”
“He doesn’t really like my boyfriend,” Shane broke in, his tone easy but pointed, careful not to say a name. “Even though I’ve been involved with him longer than him and Jackie have been together.”
Hayden shifted uncomfortably as J.J.’s jaw fell open. Shane went on like it didn’t matter, even as his grip tightened slightly around his glass.
“Even though I want to spend the rest of my life with him. Hayden doesn’t think that matters, I guess.”
“Shit. Okay. I’m sorry,” J.J. said, leaning forward slightly. “I didn’t know you had someone. Or that it was that serious. I didn’t have the full story.”
Shane nodded once.
“You didn’t.” He paused, then added, “I’m not mad at you. Much. But seriously, stop playing fucking matchmaker.”
“Yeah, no. That’s done,” J.J. said immediately. “Promise.”
Shane shifted his gaze to Hayden.
“You, though. You do have the full story.”
Hayden looked back at him, his eyes tight and expression uncomfortable.
Shane held his gaze.
“I love him,” he said simply. “There’s no one else for me. There never has been, not really.”
Hayden swallowed, then nodded. Shane watched him for a second longer before continuing, his voice firm.
“I need you to either accept that… or accept that maybe you’re not the friend you think you are.”
Hayden flinched like he’d been struck as something raw flickered across his face. His eyes went glassy almost immediately, the guilt swept in fast and heavy. He nodded again, quicker this time, but he looked shaken enough to take the edge off Shane’s anger.
“I… yeah. I get it. I’m sorry.”
Shane softened almost immediately and leaned forward slightly.
“Do you see how much this sucks?” he asked. “How hurt you’d be if I was constantly saying Jackie wasn’t good enough, or if I was telling her you weren’t good enough? Trying to set you or her up with someone else?”
Hayden winced.
“Yeah, I get it now.” There was a short pause as Hayden’s throat worked and he rapidly blinked a few times. “I’ll fix it. I promise.”
Shane nodded. “Thank you.”
There was a beat of tense, awkward silence. J.J. watched them, frowning now, clearly turning it all over in his head.
“Hayden, it’s unlike you to dislike someone this strongly,” he said slowly. “Shane, your guy must be… intense.”
“Yeah,” Shane said, glancing at him with a small, rueful laugh. “Something like that.”
J.J. squinted, the gears visibly turning.
“It’s almost like…” he started, trailing off.
Then his eyes widened into saucers as he gasped dramatically.
Hayden’s eyes closed as he braced for it. Shane took a slow breath.
“It is goddamned Rozanov, isn’t it?” J.J. all but squawked in disbelief.
Shane groaned and tipped his head back like he was looking to the heavens for patience. Or strength. Possibly both.
“Yes,” he said. “And I swear to god, if you say one bad fucking thing about him after everything I just said, I will come across this table and strangle you.”
J.J. raised both hands immediately. “Okay! Okay. Jesus.”
Hayden huffed out a breath beside him. He still looked a little rattled, but seemed a tiny bit calmer now. Still, his eyes were scanning the room like he expected to be ambushed again at any second.
Shane watched him for a moment and let out a short laugh.
“Oh yeah,” he said. “I didn’t actually give Amelia your number, Hayd.”
Both of the guys balked at him.
“Huh?” J.J. said.
“She’s not really a fan of yours either. Well, she might be. Not that much, though,” Shane added with a teasing smirk.
Hayden squeaked out, “... What?”
“Rose and Jackie helped me with…” Shane gestured loosely between the three of them. “This. Figuring out how to get it through your two thick-ass skulls to knock it the fuck off for good.”
They gawped at him wearing identical masks of incredulity and awe.
Then J.J. started laughing.
Hayden visibly deflated, his shoulders dropping all at once.
“Oh, thank fuck,” he breathed. “Jackie knows? Jesus Christ, I was absolutely sure she was gonna murder me.”
Shane snorted.
“Well, she still might,” he said. “For all the other stuff about me and Ilya.”
Hayden winced, then nodded, scrubbing a hand down his face.
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, that’s fair. I deserve that.”
“Fuck’s sake, Capitaine,” J.J. said, still chuckling. “Remind me to never get on your bad side again.”
The next morning, Shane woke up wrapped in Ilya’s arms, warm and heavy under the covers. Morning light filtered in through the blinds, pale and diffused, casting stripes across the bed. For a few moments, he stayed there and listened to the steady rhythm of Ilya’s breathing against the back of his neck and relished the weight of him pressed close.
Carefully, so he wouldn’t wake him, Shane eased himself out of Ilya’s hold, slipped from the bed and padded toward the kitchen. He started going through the motions automatically, pulling out what he needed for his smoothie and setting things aside for Ilya’s breakfast scramble, when the sharp chime of the doorbell cut through the quiet.
He paused, frowning slightly, then crossed to the door and peered through the peephole. No one stood there. There was only a large fruit basket on the doorstep.
Shane opened the door and crouched to pick it up.
It was absurdly curated with perfectly arranged fruit cut into neat shapes and two sections carefully divided. One side was clearly for him, mostly plain, though a few pieces seemed to be dunked in dark chocolate and lightly dusted with what was probably seasalt. (Nothing too crazy for his performance diet.) However, the other was loaded with chocolate-dipped pretzel rods and marshmallows and candy-coated fruit-shaped nonsense that could only be meant for Ilya.
Shane stood there for a second, genuinely thrown. It was neither of their birthdays. There was no anniversary he could think of, no holiday he had somehow forgotten.
Then he spotted the note. He picked it up, already suspicious.
Sorry for being such a dick to both of you. - H
Shane barked out a laugh and shook his head as he pulled out his phone.
thanks for the fruit
you’re still an idiot but i love you anyway
He hit send. Hayden’s reply came back almost immediately.
♥️🖕
A second later, another message popped up, this time from Jackie.
thank you for putting him in his place. he needed that 🫶
Shane snorted as he carried the monstrosity of fructose and sucrose into the kitchen.
Behind him, Ilya wandered in, tugging a t-shirt down over his head, still half asleep and his hair a mess. He stopped short when he saw the enormous fruit basket on the counter.
“…What is this?”
Shane glanced over his shoulder. “Uh.”
Ilya stepped closer, eyeing the basket like it might be a trap, while Shane rubbed the back of his neck, already a little embarrassed.
“Why is there so much chocolate fruit and candy in your house?” Ilya asked, squinting at it. “Am I dying?”
“What?”
“Is this like when people get their dog a steak or a cheeseburger before they have to be put to sleep? Clearly you got me treats to spoil me first, yes?”
Shane stared at him in horror for one full heartbeat before he cracked up.
“Jesus fucking Christ, babe,” he laughed.
“Well, what is it then?” Ilya pressed.
“It’s from Hayden. As an apology. To… both of us.”
Ilya slowly turned his head to look at him.
“…What did you do?”
Shane hesitated, then sighed. “I needed to make a point.”
Ilya raised a brow, clearly not buying how casual that sounded.
“…What kind of point?”
Shane huffed, already half annoyed at himself, and scrubbed a hand over his face.
“Okay, so,” he started, then gave up on being cool about it entirely. “J.J. wouldn’t stop trying to set me up with random gay guys he knows, and Hayden was being a dick about it, so I…” -he gestured vaguely- “fixed it.”
Ilya blinked at him.
“…Shane.”
Shane sighed again, then just spat the whole story out in one go, quick and blunt, like ripping off a bandage. The club, Amelia, the flirting, the number, all of it.
There was a beat of silence when he finished.
Then Ilya started laughing, full-bodied and delighted. He laughed like it physically hurt, doubling over slightly, one hand braced on the counter as he tried to catch his breath, tears gathering at his lashes.
“You are insane,” he managed, shaking his head. “No one ever believes me when I tell them, but you are. You are fucking crazy, Hollander.”
Shane huffed and folded his arms, but there was no real heat behind it.
“Only when it comes to you,” he shot back.
That did not help.
If anything, it made Ilya’s expression shift into something softer, almost sappy, even as little sporadic giggles kept slipping out of him. He started toward Shane, slow and deliberate, still smiling, but different now.
“You terrorized your two best friends for me?” Ilya asked, his voice lower, still edged with laughter.
Shane rolled his eyes like it was not a big deal.
“Of course,” he said. Then, more firmly, “They don’t get to talk about you like that. They wouldn’t let anyone talk about their wives like that.”
The fierceness in his eyes was sudden and absolute.
“Yes, but-”
“No buts,” Shane cut in, glancing away as he fidgeted slightly. “Ilya, there are so many things I don’t get to do when it comes to us.”
Ilya tilted his head, his expression shifting to more curious, more concerned.
“I don’t get to talk about you,” Shane went on. “Or about how happy you make me. I don’t get to take you on dates. I don’t get to do any of the normal, obvious stuff everyone else does without thinking.”
He sighed as his gaze drifted toward the window, like all of it existed just out of reach, somewhere beyond the glass and not at the end of a decade of hiding and secrets.
“This is one thing I can do,” he said.
“What is that one thing, my love?”
“Defend you. Protect you. Make sure no one ever makes you feel like you don’t deserve me, not for one second. Especially not my best friends.”
For a moment, Ilya just stared at him, a little undone.
“…Shane,” he said quietly.
His hands came up to Shane’s waist, pulling him in without hesitation, like he needed his body flush to his to remember how to breathe properly.
“I think I’m dreaming,” he murmured, half amused, half something else entirely.
Shane huffed, but his hands came up automatically to frame Ilya’s waist too.
“You’re ridiculous,” he said.
“Obviously,” Ilya replied, and then kissed him, still smiling into it.
He pulled back just enough to look at him, holding on like he was not done.
“This is the hottest thing you’ve ever done,” he said.
Shane snorted, shaking his head. “Okay.”
“No, I mean it,” Ilya insisted, completely serious now though his eyes were still bright. “We need to go back to bed immediately.”
Shane laughed outright at that, bracing a hand against his chest as Ilya started guiding him backward.
“Don’t you want any of the candy?” he teased, jerking his chin toward the counter.
Ilya paused mid-step and glanced over his shoulder like he was actually considering it, his face theatrically torn.
Shane lost it and laughed harder. Ilya just shrugged and turned back to him like the decision had been easy after all.
“You taste much sweeter than candy,” he purred, already leaning in and pressing a trail of slow kisses to the side of Shane’s neck.
Shane’s laughter faltered around a low groan as Ilya nudged him back another step, then another, steering him toward the bedroom without breaking contact.
“That’s a terrible line,” Shane murmured.
“Is working though, no?” Ilya replied, his mouth brushing his skin again.
And so Shane let himself be walked backward, smiling as the rest of the world faded out with every step.