ilya in slutty little sunglasses pulling up in his stupidly expensive god awful green lambo to pick shane up after some event, rolling down his window and lowering his sunglasses to look shane up and down and say "need a ride?" and shane rolls his eyes so big cause he know's ilya's not talking about the car, but he gets in anyway and when ilya revs the engine and peels out of there shane is smilling at his gorgeous silly husband
@persimmonlions OH?!!!
shane sits in the low cradle of his seat, a pleasant buzz coursing through his body. ilya has one hand on the wheel and another on the gearshift. he looks confident and in control, looking at the road the way he does at the ice, finding gaps in the light traffic like he would through weak defencemen. shane would complain, but he lost his words when ilya merged onto the freeway and cut across two lanes with a quick tug of the gearshift and a steady turn of the wheel. a smirk, and ilya rips down the clear lane in front of him, sending the plug and shane’s body into overdrive.
ilya’s voice rumbles alongside the engine. “don’t leak onto the seat, malysh.”
