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    Summary

    They held hands all through their exit from the hotel and in the car. Shane squeezed Ilya’s hand as they drew close to the museum

    “You look pretty too.” Shane said softly to Ilya.

    His husband’s face lit up, never able to resist the gentle, awe-filled compliments Shane sometimes threw at him.

    “Ah, you like? Worth wearing my collar for then? Letting me show you off, letting them know you’re mine?”

    “Always,” Shane intoned, too enthralled by his husband’s sunshine smile to be anything but earnest.

    He pulled Ilya in for a kiss, sipping deeply from his lips to fortify himself as they pulled up to the curb.

    Ilya broke off the kiss as the car stopped.

    “Good. Because I am ready to show world just how pretty my husband likes to be for me,” he said devilishly before the door was pulled open.

     

    OR:

    First Husbands of Hockey at the Met Gala

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