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    Summary

    “Ilya, you can’t…I mean, we’re…”

    “On a plane, yes,” his husband answered back in Russian, his voice dropping an octave as he spoke with aggravating dismissal, “I am not doing anything. Just resting my hand.”

    “You know what you’re doing,” Shane retorted, his pronunciation slipping with how quickly he spoke, “What is the matter with you?”

    It was the wrong move. Ilya's eyes lit up as they always did whenever Shane spoke to him in his native tongue.

    “Nothing is the matter if you don’t get hard.” The gruffness of Ilya’s voice sent a pang of arousal shooting through Shane’s body.

    “I won’t.” Shane responded in English, like that would somehow make it true.

    ---

    or: ilya challenges shane to the same conditions as he did at the cottage during the infamous hayden pike phone call...only 30,000 feet up in the sky

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