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    Summary

    What are you doing?" Shane questions, his brows furrowing.

    "I think you know," his hand slowly sliding up higher on his thigh with a knowing grin on his face.

    "Rozanov. We are in class," Shane says, sternly.

    "Mmh, you didn't think it was problem when you were humping your chair like a dog."

    Shane's eyes widen, his mouth parting like he had something to say.

    "Did you even realize you were doing it? Or were you just so desperate your body started acting for you?" Ilya says, lowly.

    Shane can't find any words to say in this situation. He's so hard and wet and his brain is all over the place, foggy with arousal.

    Ilya leans closer, his lips brushing the shell of his ear, "Do you want me to touch you, Shane?"

    or

    Shane gets unbearably horny on the days he does his t-shot. Ilya notices how distracted he is in class and helps him.

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