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Shane was riding a high. It was one of the first NHL games he had the privilege of playing with his husband.
He still couldn't get used to calling him that. Couldn't believe he was allowed to call him that, to have him like that. The fact that he was lucky enough to have him all to himself.
That he lived in a reality where he could even acknowledge their relationship publicly was a feat in and of itself, especially with the long and gruelling journey it took for them to get there.
This openness and honesty about their relationship was something Shane never thought he could have, couldn't fathom that this was at all possible. Shane felt like he was in a dream, and was waiting to be startled awake, to be ripped out of this fantasy and thrown back into reality. A reality where he still had to hide himself, and a reality with an Ilya that didn’t belong to him, where he couldn't call him his.
And it was like a dam had been broken. He went from being too scared to look at Ilya for an extended period of time to not being able to keep his hands off the man. Anywhere he could get the man alone he would; in the locker room, an empty storage closet, pushed roughly up against the hallway wall. Any quiet place lacking a camera or an unfamiliar pair of eyes, and you'd find Shane and Ilya wrapped around each other, much to the Ottawa Centaurs hockey and management team’s dismay.
It was the Ottawa's Centaurs first game of the season against Montreal with Shane Hollander on their line. From the cheers of the Montreal fans when Shane was announced, it seemed they missed him, their long-time captain, which was something the management team or players couldn't admit. And it showed when they were beaten 4-1 on their own grounds.
It was a bittersweet feeling for Shane. They'd won, yes, but he had scored a hat trick on Montreal's goalie, a friend of ten years, watching their banners hang from the rafters, the banners he'd gotten them, reminding him of the twelve years he’d spent with them.
"Great job, Hollander," Zane Boodram, the Centaurs's left wing, commented, shaking off his padding.
"Thanks, Bood. Missed you out there," he chirped, referring to the fact that the left winger lacked any goals or assists from tonight's game, and was met with a few 'ooohs' and roaring laughter from the team.
"Asshole! You're becoming just like Roz!"
"I don't see where the insult is!" Shane responded and it was mostly true. Ilya was one of the best players in the league and greatly respected by his team. It didn’t stop him from calling him an 'asshole' every other minute.
"Better watch out, Bood, he's coming for your 'A'," Wyatt said, stripping out of his goalie uniform.
"No," a voice behind them spoke. Shane turned and was faced with his husband, a purple bruise blossoming on his cheekbone and an ugly green one sprouting low on his jaw.
Still as handsome as ever, Shane thought to himself.
Ilya was chosen for the post-game interview despite having spent most of the night in the penalty box although that's probably why they wanted to speak to him. Many of the reporters hoping to get their quote for the night, their sound bite for the headlines, and, thinking back to some of Ilya's more famous interviews, they probably had.
Something along the lines of:
"I almost sweat, thanks for warm-up, Montreal."
Or
"Next time we'll let them start with a two goal head start, yes?"
Either or, really.
Shane shook his head, ready for the media onslaught Ilya is going to face from the Voyageur's fans.
With a quick peck on the lips, Ilya settled into the stall next to him, ridding himself of his under armour. "Shane would not settle for the 'A'," the blond clicked his tongue. "Shane is coming for the 'C'!” Ilya motioned to himself with a thumb.
Ilya was met with boos and shoves from the team as they made their way to the showers.
Shane was getting used to the Centaurs quicker than he thought he would. He supposed actually going out with them outside of hockey helped, something he rarely did with the Voyageurs. He had Ilya to thank for that, forcing him out of the house to Bood's barbecues feigning the importance of team bonding. Shane knew he just wanted to show off his new husband, and of course, eat Bood's famous burgers. Even Shane had to admit they were amazing, despite the toppings fulfilling his calorie intake for the day.
And Ilya loved showcasing husband any chance he got. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder in the locker room, a loose hand around his waist at events and gatherings, his instagram posts and stories that exclusively featured Shane or something else to do with the man. And Shane thrived under his attention. Knowing his husband was thinking of him, even when talking to someone else, with a simple circle of his thumb on Shane's hip. Not caring if the world saw anymore.
Shane was about to strip when a text message rattled his phone.
Hayden: hey !
Hayden: I got two spare tickets to a comedy show if you wanna tag along w me and Jackie ?
Hayden: was going to go w jj and his gf but he's bummed out from the loss
Hayden: you can bring him if u want ig
Hayden sent a few more texts. Mainly details about the comedian and the lounge it was in, emphasising how close it was to the arena.
Shane snorted. He found it funny that Hayden couldn't even say Ilya's name despite having been Shane's best man at their wedding. Even after the numerous dinner dates they've had together it seemed like a fruitless endeavour to try to get the two men to get along, much to Shane and Jackie's chagrin.
He couldn't say he'd been to a comedy show before and it beat whatever club the Centaurs were planning on crashing after their win. Shane felt a bit bared open after the game and hadn't felt like growing overstimulated in a Montreal club.
"Ilya," the man snapped his head to Shane, eyebrows raised, nearly banging into his cubicle in the process. Shane loved Ilya’s clear admiration towards his husband. The way he was the only thing he talked about. My husband this and my husband that. Someone might call it needy or possessive, as if he’s staking a public claim on Shane.
Nevertheless, Shane still very much enjoyed it, preferred it actually. He favoured moya lyubov over his given name, he liked it when he was called boring, loved it when he left marks all over, declaring him taken.
Shane smiled remembering all the times Ilya and him were given shit by his team for the bruises and bite marks littered over the two of them. Ilya has taken to referring to Shane as a canvas where he can display his work. And if Shane isn’t a devoted fan of Ilya’s creations. The pieces that Ilya paints over his neck, chest, back, inner thigh.
Shane internally groans thinking about them and lets his impulse win by pressing a firm finger into the fading one loitering on his collarbone.
Ilya’s eyes snap to the movement, a dark look passing over him.
Shane kills the moment when it lingers a bit too long to be professional, being mindful of their environment. Not that it had ever stopped the two in the past.
Shane cleared his throat and turned back to his cubby.
"Hayden and Jackie are going to a comedy show tonight, and he said we can join them if we want. I've never been to one before and I think it'd be fun, you know, like a double date. We've never really had one in public before and you and Hayden could bond," Shane was rambling now, getting ahead of himself again. "Never mind, you'd probably rather go out with the team to a club. Not stuck with Hayden and Jackie and I in some comedy lounge. Forget it, I'll tell him we can't go."
Shane started to type out a message, apologising to Hayden when a gentle hand grabbed his right arm. Ilya was looking at him with soft eyes, too gentle compared to the heated looks he'd been shooting him all evening.
"Shane," Ilya practically whispered. "I would love to watch boring comedian with you and Jackie."
"And Hayden," Shane added.
"Whatever," Ilya pshawed with a wave of his hand.
.Shane: We'd love to go. See you guys soon
Shane huffed a laugh at the eye roll emoji Hayden responded with, followed by a thumbs up.
"Do we dress up?" Ilya finished stripping and grabbed his towel.
"Em," Shane tried and failed to keep his eyes off his sweaty, naked husband, blushing furiously with the wink Ilya had shot at him. "No, no. It's more of a casual place," Shane remembered what he could about the lounge Hayden had mentioned.
"Okay. We going straight from here?"
Hayden told him it started at eight o'clock and it was half past seven, and since Shane abhorred tardiness, he nodded. "Yes, since it's starting soon."
"Of course, don't want to be late," Ilya knew him so well. With another peck on the lips, and an exaggerated mwah, Ilya went to the showers.
They were both showered and fully dressed within ten minutes and getting ready to head out when Troy spoke. "You guys not coming to the club?"
"They have more important things to do," Dykstra waggled his eyebrows. Shane wanted to argue but if it was any other night, he'd be right.
"Not tonight," Ilya answered for him. "Going to boring comedy show," the blond rolled his eyes, though Shane knew better than to take Ilya's 'boring' at face value. Like when he called Shane macrobiotic diet 'boring' or 'disgusting', he really meant that he hated Shane's too strict diet that controlled his life. "Voyageur's second best player," upgraded from fifteenth following the whole debacle although not the current best player, as, in Ilya's words, 'How can someone be best on worst team?' "Invited us out to celebrate his loss."
Shane elbowed Ilya in the ribs. "Sorry we can't go out with you guys tonight. I'll have you's over this weekend, if you're free, to make up for it." It was met with a chorus of 'hell yeah's and goodbyes as they headed out.
Shane dragged Ilya out of the building by his elbow. "Come on, Ilya. We're going to be late."
"Is fine, Shane," Ilya cooed. "Start times are just suggestion."
"Not helpful," the dark-haired man groaned. "You're driving."
Ilya hummed and regarded Shane with a heavy look when they reached the car. "I like you bossy," Ilya practically purred. He pinned Shane to the side of the jeep, hands on either side of his hips. It was times like this when Shane loved their height difference, feeling utterly surrounded by his husband's size alone. "What do you say we skip this thing and go home. I can give you show there. Personal show."
As much as Shane liked that idea, he'd promised Hayden. "No."
"No?" Ilya had the gall to look offended. He backed up, leaving Shane pushed up against the car. "You don't love me anymore. You want divorce. Is fine. You get the house but I want Anya," Shane gasped at that, mock offended. "She is mine. And Yuna. You keep David but I want him on weekends. Yes? Sound fair?"
Shane burst out laughing at his husband's dramatics. "You are such an asshole."
Ilya smiled. "Am I?"
"Yes. But," Ilya tilted his head, waiting for Shane. "I already told Hayden we'd go and I don't want to flake on him," he checked his watch. "fifteen minutes before the show starts. And how about this," Shane proposed.
"What?" Ilya asked, intrigued.
"If you make it through tonight without insulting Hayden, even once, I'll give you a private show."
A wanton smile breached Ilya's face. "Deal," he agreed at the speed of light. "Get in the car."
Shane hopped into the passenger seat with a giggle, exhilaration coursing through his veins.
The short ride there was uneventful, the radio streaming overplayed Canadian pop songs. Shane studied Ilya's sharp features as they took on new contrasts with the passing street lights. Ilya's eyes stayed on the lane ahead, watching like a hawk, only after Shane's scolding about watching the road, muttering some statistics on traffic accidents.
They somehow managed to get street parking after a car timely pulled out. "You go in. I will feed meter, okay?"
"Okay. Hayden said we're seated at the front, so meet us there," Shane said, giving Ilya a quick kiss that lingered too long to be 'quick'.
Shane hopped out the car and sauntered into the lounge. There was no line or even a door attendant, probably due to it being five minutes to the start of the show.
He spotted Hayden and Jackie sitting at a table to the right of the stage. The table seated four, each velvet chair facing towards the raised platform. A dim lamp illuminated each tabletop, creating a romantic vibe.
"Shane!" Hayden stood up when Shane approached them, scooping him into a tight hug. "I missed you, buddy."
"Careful, Hayd. Your wife is right there," Shane joked.
Jackie laughed and stood to give Shane a quick half hug and kiss on the cheek. "Good to see you, Shane. We missed you around the house."
"You just missed a free babysitter," Shane took a seat next to his friend.
"Caught me there," Jackie winked. "Ilya! Over here!" Jackie waved her hand, signalling the Russian to their table. Shane didn't miss Hayden's eye roll.
Ilya kissed Shane's cheek as he settled in beside him. "Hi, baby," Shane smiled at his husband.
"You guys drove here together!" Hayden complained.
"Shut up. They're still in their honeymoon phase. Leave them be," Jackie smacked her spouse's chest.
"Not phase. I just love my husband. If you think loving my husband is phase, maybe you need new husband." Ilya winked and waggled his eyebrows.
Jackie laughed while Hayden went bright red, a mixture of anger and embarrassment.
"Ilya," Shane warned.
"No, wait, Jackie, your husband loves you very much," Ilya gracefully recovered, turning to his beautiful husband with a smile that said 'see? I can play nice.'
Shane folded immediately, giving him one more chance. He was looking forward to his private show almost as much as Ilya was.
"I'll go get us drinks," Ilya said in favour of an apology. "Be right back, moya lyubov."
"Seriously, man?" Hayden groaned, dropping his head back. "Is it going to be like this the entire night?"
"No, I swear. I got him to promise not to start anything with you tonight."
"How'd you swing that?" Jackie asked.
Shane didn't respond, letting his grin answer for him.
"Ew, god, you know what, I don't even want to know," Hayden complained for the millionth time this evening.
They slipped into easy conversation, Hayden telling Shane about the train wreck that is the Montreal Voyageurs. Most of them still believe they're better off without him, despite losing most of their games this season. Shane can imagine Theriault's fuming face and strained shouts after each loss.
Shane didn’t know if he should feel smug or bothered by their quick descent from grace. On one hand they completely shunned him after his public outing and accused him of intentionally losing to Ilya. Shane would never be able to get over that blatant level of disrespect and distrust. And on the other hand they had drafted him, made him into the player he is today. These conflicting feelings ate away at him and have been chewing a hole through him leading up to this game.
Maybe he needed Ilya to take him to the trophy room again.
"Okay," Ilya drawled. "A Moscow mule for my beautiful husband," Ilya placed a glass in front of the man. "A white wine for the lady, and a water for you." Ilya practically slammed Hayden's glass down.
"Why do I have to drink water?"
"You would not let your wife be driver on date night, would you?" Ilya questioned seriously, sipping on his own water. Shane noticed that Ilya made the choice for Shane, on who would be the designated driver. It was usually Shane forgoing the alcohol but Shane was glad he could let loose at little. He took a drink of his alcoholic beverage, enjoying the spicy taste of ginger beer on his tongue and the burn of the vodka sliding down his throat.
Hayden looked like he was about to argue until he noticed Jackie taking a mouthful of wine, muttering a quiet 'I could get used to this.'
"Of course not," The Voyageur huffed.
That was when the comedian came on stage. It seemed as though he was popular enough, going by the level of cheering from his audience when he appeared on stage. He started into his set almost immediately.
Jackie was telling Shane about the comedian from across the table. His name was Drew Rhodes, an American comedian/actor. From the way she talked about him, he could tell she was a big fan.
"He didn't have a Montreal date this year and I was so upset thinking I wouldn't be able to go but then Hayden surprised me with tickets for Ottawa and got my parents to mind the kids. Romantic isn't it?"
"That's sweet," Shane cooed.
"Though I'm a little mad that he got us front row tickets," Jackie pouted.
"What do you mean? Isn't that a good thing?" Shane asked, sipping from his drink.
"Not for a comedy show," Jackie continued, noting the man's confusion. "Drew is known for his crowd work and heckling, so if you're in the front, it's kind of a free for all."
That was when Shane noticed the booming voice from the stage had halted. He turned his head towards the platform and saw man of the hour, crouched down and staring directly at Shane.
"No, no, continue your conversation. It's fine. Not like I'm on a schedule here," That got laughs all around. Shane burned from embarrassment. He and Jackie, drew back to their seats, dipped their heads and muttered their numerous apologies. "It's alright, don't worry," He said it so lightheartedly, noticing the burning shame that his audience member was feeling, that it made the tension in Shane’s chest ease a bit.
He makes a quick joke about 'polite Canadians' and their 'Sorries' and jumps right back into his set, telling a story about a time when he somehow managed to get invited to a wedding after a 'wrong number' incident.
Ilya gripped Shane's shoulder. "Relax, moya lyubov, is just fun. No harm."
Shane smiled, grabbing Ilya's hand from his shoulder and dropping it to his lap, squeezing tight.
It was only after a few minutes did Shane understand what Jackie meant by crowd work. Throughout his set he'd taken to asking specific people in the audience questions. And these questions ranged from tame; What do you do for work? to not so tame; When was the last time you had sex?
He had to give it to him, he picked his audience well. Either that or he's just so charismatic and funny that people naturally just went along with whatever he asked, no matter how strange or invasive his queries were in a public setting.
Much to Shane's relief, their table had been mostly ignored for part of the night.
Just when the tension in Shane was easing, did the comedian stop in front of their table.
"I'm sorry, guys, for interrupting my set again," Referring to the many times he stopped in the middle of a joke to tear apart the audience, gaining a few laughs in the process. "Now listen, I'm as straight as can be, but you, my friend, are the sexiest man I've ever seen in my life," He said with dramatic flair, gesturing to Ilya Rozanov in all his glory. And Shane had to agree. With Ilya leaning back in his chair, a relaxed smile on his face, there was no one that compared, Shane thought.
Ilya smiled brightly, accepting the compliment with a little nod and murmured 'thanks'.
Shane assumed that would be the end of it.
How wrong he was.
"No seriously, you're gorgeous," Drew went on. "What's your name?"
Ilya seemed happy enough to play along. "Ilya," He said, pronouncing each syllable, loud to carry over the crowd's noise.
Drew tested the name on his tongue a few times, considering the fact that he'd previously butchered 'bonjour' far too badly to be recovered, Shane supposed he wasn't the best at languages.
"Ilya? Is that Russian?"
Ilya hummed his confirmation.
"Unfairly good-looking, shredded and has a sexy European accent? You have the triple threat, bro," Drew went on. People were whistling all around, craning their heads to get a look at the person the main act couldn't stop staring at.
Shane was getting embarrassed for his husband at this point.
Whereas, Hayden and Jackie were loving this. Laughing and clapping along with the crowd.
"I mean, you could go home with anyone you wanted. If I looked like you, I would go home with a different woman every night,” he declared dramatically. “No seriously, you could have anyone," This was going overboard for Shane's liking. His admiration going a tad too far. "In other words, can I go home with you?" There were cackles all around the room, along with shouts of agreement.
Ilya waved his hands. "I'm married." Ilya motioned to the black band on his left ring finger.
"Oh wow, lucky woman, then!" Drew boomed. "So are you happily married or just married?" He continued seriously with a quirked brow.
Ilya's smile dropped a small bit but before he could respond he was interrupted.
“I’m just fucking with you! Who wouldn’t be happy married to you?” He let out a loud laugh, the audience along with him.
Drew swiftly spiralled into another joke, somehow perfectly set up from his interaction with Ilya.
Shane thought that they would be left alone, their table having been squeezed for its comedic expense.
He should have known from the passing glances thrown his way that he would end up being proved severely wrong.
He regretted not having searched up this comedian in the car ride over, that Jackie hadn’t given him an ample enough warning for what’s to come.
Ilya had just come back from the bar tucked away in the corner with fresh drinks for the table. Shane had been taking heavy mouthfuls of his cocktail throughout the night and was now on his fourth drink.
An hour in, Ilya asked Shane if he wanted to switch to water but Shane ended that conversation with a firm head shake. He wanted to let loose. Wanted to get drunk. It was a luxury he didn’t indulge in often enough, and with the Montreal game done and a day off practice tomorrow, Shane let himself enjoy the feeling that came with the expensive vodka and his low tolerance for alcohol.
Ilya accepted it simply, understanding laced in his easy smile.
It was nearing the official time of the end of the set when Drew stopped in front of their table for the third time that night.
Oh no.
"So what's the deal here? I'm guessing you guys all know each other."
With Jackie's wide smile and confirming nod, he continued.
"You two are married, right?" he said, pointing to Jackie and her husband. "'Cause you guys look real cozy and have wedding rings and if that's not the case, this is gonna be awkward." The crowd howled with laughter. That seemed to be their thing.
Jackie eagerly corrected him, easily jumping into hers and Hayden's meet cute and eventually coiling into their life story.
With the crowd's on-going awwws, Shane thought he was off the hook. Even drunk, Shane hated this sort of attention. The type where everyone's eyes were on him, laughing at his expense, even if it was in "good fun".
After Drew made a deprecating joke about having four children under ten he turned to Ilya and Shane.
"And how do you know these two?" Drew asked, jutting a chin towards the two men.
Hayden answered. "Well, I met this guy through work," he gave Shane's shoulder a friendly shake. "And this guy through him," he said, brushing off Ilya's introduction. Hayden had managed the impossible; summarising Shane and Ilya's relationship.
"So how do you two know each other?"
"He works with me now," Ilya beamed with pride, a thumb pointing to his chest.
"I see," he said, but Shane heard a small bit of confusion. He was most likely sensing the strange relationship between Ilya and Hayden, especially when referring to Shane.
"And what do you guys do for work, if you don't mind me asking?" He moved closer, more interested in their group.
This was something Shane could answer. "We play hockey,"
"Oh, that's so cool!" He straightened up a little. "Is it like, local, or..."
"Professional," Hayden answered for him.
"Oh shit. Remind me of your guys' names."
He leaned in so they could easily say their names.
"I'm not a huge hockey fan so let me know if these guys are any good!" He asked the crowd to which they responded with boisterous cheers.
"Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov and Hayden Pike? Did I get them right—"
He was cut off by the whooping and shouts. Shane was apprehensive to say his name because he'd spotted many people in their Ottawa Centaurs jerseys throughout the evening, many sporting a Hollander or Rozanov on the back.
"Oh shit! You guys must be popular!" He turned from the crowd back to their table. "I do see a few jerseys here. Did you guys just play a game earlier?" With the whoops and whistles all around, his question was answered.
"Let me guess, you guys play for Ottawa?"
"Yes," Ilya answered. "Except for him," he vaguely motioned to Hayden. "He plays for Montreal. We beat them tonight," Ilya didn't bother hiding his smugness.
The crowd booed with the mention of Montreal.
"Must be big rivals. Wait, you "worked" with him," He pointed between Hayden and Shane. "Who left who?"
Hayden thankfully took the reins. "Shane was Montreal's captain up until this season," he said it woefully.
"Woah, there's definitely a story there!" He declared and it was confirmed with the boos and cheers all around the room, regarding both the treatment of Shane in Montreal and sudden gain of one of the best hockey players to Ottawa's roster.
"I'll have to do my research." He took a long drink of water before continuing.
"Don't worry, I didn't forget about you, my sexy little Russian." He practically purred. Shane knew it was harmless. He still wasn't a big fan of others openly ogling his husband. "Celebrating a big win and not inviting the wife? You'd be in my bad books."
"Not wife," Drew tilted his head, perplexed. "Husband!"
"Holy shit! This just keeps getting better!"
The whole room knew about Shane and Ilya's relationship but Drew didn't, he hadn't even recognised them as hockey players. Shane felt trepidation burn a hole in his stomach and suddenly the alcohol didn't seem like such a smart choice.
"I didn't know there were gay hockey players!"
"Not gay. Bisexual," Ilya corrected because that distinction was important. It didn't matter that he'd only be with a man the rest of his life. It was his identity.
"Bisexual, wow! But are there more gay or queer hockey players?"
"A few yes. My husband is one of them," Ilya laughed, turning to Shane.
Oh, God. Shane groaned.
"No way! You guys have been holding out on me!" Drew acted offended, holding a hand to his chest, feigning outrage. "Did you guys know about this?" He faced the rest of the audience and his suspicions were approved with the loud cheers and laughs he was met with. "Why didn't we start with this?" he announced.
He reclaimed his previous position, crouching down in front of Shane's table.
"Tell. Me. Everything!"
Ilya stumbled through a very vague and tame version of events of the relationship timeline that led to their wedding. Trying to avoid the fact they were "enemies with benefits", which proved to be a very hard feat and from the glint in Drew's eyes and his unbelieving eyes when he'd directly asked if they were fuck buddies, and was most likely confirmed when Shane choked on his drink.
Despite it being way past the official end time, Drew kept asking them questions until a few drunk patrons started filing out. He wrapped the show up pretty quickly after that.
He very politely apologised to them, for putting them on the spot and asking such personal questions, especially considering they were public figures.
The four of them took a quick picture for their social media's and left the lounge. Shane had a drumming buzz from the alcohol. He felt good but he could sense the upcoming headache.
Ilya's arm was wrapped around his shoulders, keeping him steady on his wavering feet. Shane didn't think he was drunk enough to require it but would never reject Ilya's touch.
"He barely even acknowledged me!" Hayden argued, outraged that Shane and Ilya got most of the attention.
"It's okay, baby," Jackie cooed, much like how she soothed her children. "You'll get him next time."
"Thanks, honey," Hayden gave her a quick cheek kiss. "But I don't think that'll ever happen around these two idiots."
"Hey!" Ilya protested. "Not our fault no one wants to talk about boring, second best player on bad team."
Hayden blanched. "I don't know if that's a compliment or an insult."
"Take it, babe. You've been upgraded from fifteenth. That's a compliment," Jackie informed. "Let's go to the car now. I'm cold so take me to the hotel already," Jackie gave him a suggestive look.
Hayden gulped. "Got to go now. Bye!" The couple quickly turned and paced down the path.
"Being second best on worst team is not compliment!" Ilya shouted at their backs but went unnoticed.
"Come on. Ilya," Shane tugged at his husband's shirt. "Let's go back home. I still have to give you that private show," Shane's tone dropped to a whisper. "You've been so good for me."
Ilya gulped and dragged Shane to the car.
✩°𓏲⋆🍁. ⋆⸜ 🥃✮˚
Shane had never been happier to slump down onto his side of the bed. The familiar dip in his side of the mattress comforting all his troubles.
Ilya plops down next to his husband with a heavy sigh.
A firm hand lightly shoved the dark-haired man's shoulder. "Shane."
Shane hummed in response. Distantly, Shane knew he was forgetting something but he was too loose and carefree from the alcohol to put his mind to it. Shane giggled to himself. Not even the cute, funny giggle but the groggy type, the one that made Ilya think he was choking on his own vomit.
"Shane," Ilya tried again.
"What, Ilya? I'm okay. Just drank a bit too much," Shane admitted. He groaned at the taste in his mouth. His tongue felt like sandpaper.
"You promised me something. Remember?" He said suggestively, a finger sliding up Shane's arm.
Shane huffed out a laugh. "Hmmm. Later."
"Shaneeee!" Ilya exclaimed dramatically, shaking his husband.
"Ilyaaaa!" Shane mocked, a drunken slur in his tone.
"You promised private show if I didn't offend Pike and I didn't. Sort of."
"Okay," Shane surrendered. "But you have to help me brush my teeth and pee first."
"Yes!"
Ilya dutifully aided Shane in these tasks. He followed his husband's drunken requests to a T. He made sure to pay extra special attention to his molars, applying just the right pressure and Shane very much appreciated the way he held him up when he used the toilet.
"You take such good care of me," Shane smiled brightly at his lover.
Ilya's grin matched his. "Does that mean I get my prize?"
"Of course," Shane nodded. His husband deserved everything he wanted. He took such good care of him tonight.
That's why Shane was confused when Ilya slipped him under the covers, switching off his bedside lamp.
"Ilya?"
"Yes?"
"What happened to the show?"
Ilya laughed at his husband. "Okay, give me show then."
Shane pouted. He was far too comfortable and tired to move now. "Tomorrow."
Ilya chuckled. "That's what I thought," He said, kissing Shane's temple, curling in behind him.
"Tonight was fun," Shane confessed.
"Yes?"
"It was. It felt like we could be honest for the first time. That we were a normal couple telling the story of when we first met."
"We are anything but normal, moya lyubov," Ilya snuggled into the crook of Shane's neck.
"I know but it was nice still."
"It was," Ilya puckered kisses over Shane. They both knew it wasn't going anywhere.
Shane finally let his eyes shut. He wouldn't admit it but his favourite part of the night were the constant touches and check-ins from his husband; the possessive hold on his hand throughout the night, the way he asked Shane how he was between each of his drinks.
Shane would have to make it up to him tomorrow. He smiled at the thought.
"Goodnight, Ilya."
Shane felt Ilya's smirk against the back of his head. "Goodnight, Shane."