thought exercise of the day hookup era where ilya comes in to shane’s place or whatever hotel and he’s been outside in the cold, never wrapped up properly, russians do not do this, and his hands are pink and freezing digging under shane’s layers, under the soft hoodie and the t-shirt where it’s tucked into his fleecy sweats to find the wriggling warmth of him. how shane groans and twitches but there’s nowhere to go with how the weight of ilya has him pressed to the wall, can’t decide if he wants to elbow ilya’s cold hands away or beg for them closer, in him, just shudders and sighs. what you don’t like it? says ilya, a little mean with it, i trek through the cold city to come to your warm little house and fuck you hm? i’m so good to you? and shane can’t help it, mmh so good, so good, s’just cold. ilya pinches his waist, makes him jump, slips the fingers of his other hand into shane’s mouth where it’s dropped open in surprise. good trick. here baby, he says, crooning, warm them up for me