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    Summary

    “You always listen so well when I am there with you. Maybe you need rules for when I am away.”

    Shane sucked in a stuttering breath. “Rules?”

    Ilya nodded, his hand speeding up. His eyes looked very bright and evaluating. “Whenever you want to touch yourself when I am away, you will practise.”

    “Practise,” Shane echoed, stupidly.

    One side of Ilya’s mouth lifted up smugly, as if he knew how much this was affecting him. He probably did. “Yes, practise. If you get to one, you can come,” Ilya told him. “Not before. That is first rule.”

    Shane tries to succeed in a challenge. He’s always liked numbers – surely counting down from a hundred to one can’t be that hard, even if he's... distracted.

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