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Summary
“I cannot talk about this anymore,” Ilya says. Hiccups. “Unless you have read somewhere there’s a magical sex position that cures hiccups, I—”
Shane makes an interesting sound. Ilya’s head snaps up. Shane is making intense eye contact with the wall next to them, and he’s pink - pinker than he would usually be from being pressed against a door and kissed. And, crucially, he’s gone rock hard against Ilya’s thigh. Ilya is fucking delighted.
“Hollander,” he says. Thrilled. “There is a sex position that cures hiccups?”
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Ilya Rozanov gets fingered.