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Summary
“There’s a few questions we can go through to see how serious this is.”
“I really don’t think that’s -“
“Question one,” Ilya interrupts, peering at Shane from the corner of his eye before glancing back at his phone. He looks suspiciously smug. Shane is instantly wary. “Is there any chance you are pregnant?”
Shane rolls his eyes, smacking Ilya’s thigh with the back of his hand. “Oh, fuck off.”
Ilya snickers before making a poor attempt at schooling his face back into neutrality. He gestures with his phone. “This is yes or no question, Hollander.”
“No, Ilya, there is no chance I’m pregnant, seeing as you fuck me in the ass, and also, I’m your gay male husband.”
“Hm. Okay, so despite my best efforts, not pregnant yet, probably, although we cannot be sure.”
OR: Shane Hollander gets appendicitis. Featuring anxious Ilya, (medically) high Shane, and two idiots who can't be serious if their lives depended on it.