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    Summary

    Ilya was grinning way too big for Shane’s liking.

    Shane raised his eyebrows at him. “What do you want?”

    Ilya’s smile grew inexplicably wider. “The question is, moya lyubov,” he raised his other arm so that both of Shane’s shoulders now rested beneath his hands, “what do you want?”

    Shane rolled his eyes. “Ugh, you’re infuriating. I don’t want anything, it was just a question.”

    Ilya waited patiently, eyes still locked on Shane’s.

    Shane threw both his hands up in the air and dropped them heavily. “Fucking, fine, you weirdo,” he sighed. “I’ve never smoked before and I was just curious how it feels. That’s all.”

    “Yes,” Ilya nodded, because he could read Shane way too well and obviously had gathered all of that already. His menacing smile wavered for a second, his eyes softening. “And you want me to tell you or…?”

    ---

    Or: Shane and Ilya get high at the cottage.

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