Rating:

Mature

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types

Relationships:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Hayden Pike & Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander, Hayden Pike, Jackie Pike, Ruby Pike, Jade Pike, Amber Pike, Arthur Pike

Additional Tags:

Established Relationship, Haircuts, Married Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Hayden Pike is personally victimized by Ilya Rozanov, Post-Canon, Slice of Life, Dramatic Ilya Rozanov, POV Ilya Rozanov, Ilya Rozanov is a Menace, Crack, Humor, Shane Hollander Calls Ilya Rozanov "Baby"

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-09-21 Words: 5,213 Chapters: 1/1

hot buzz

Summary

"Shane," Ilya interrupts, knowing that if he lets Shane go on much longer, he really will be on the next flight back. And as tempting as it is, he really likes all the free shit Shane gets to bring home and he's in desperate need of a new watch after the last barbecue at Bood's went slightly awry. "I'm fine, I just have lice."

There's a long pause, and though Ilya can't see Shane's face, he can imagine the exact look that's there. Forehead wrinkled, lips set in a thin line, his eyes moving slowly around the room as he tries to figure something out. "You're going to have to expand on that, I think."

"Turns out the sleepover I hosted for the Pikes had more than a few uninvited guests," Ilya offers and he hears Shane exhale in relief at the explanation, making a mental note to ask when he gets home exactly what other scenarios were playing out in Shane's overactive brain.

"I bet Hayden and Jackie feel awful."

Ilya has about twenty apology texts from Jackie he knows he needs to respond to. "Yes, they do."

"You're going to make Hayden suffer for this, aren't you?"

He grins, loving how well Shane knows him without even a hint as to what Ilya has planned. "Yes, I am."

Notes

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ it spoke to me. i dunno, blame social media fic burnout. enjoy!

If someone had asked Ilya Rozanov when he was twenty where he thought he'd be on a random Tuesday night in July ten years later, he probably would have answered something witty like, 'in a similar situation, just richer and more handsome.'

And largely, that is true. He is richer, and clearly getting more handsome with age, but what he absolutely wouldn't have expected is that he would be spending that random Tuesday night in July hosting a sleepover for his husband's best friend's kids. Or that his husband would be Shane Hollander. And even more inexplicably, that they kids he would be hosting belonged to Hayden Pike.

He's sitting on the floor with his back leaned against the couch while some animated movie plays on the television. Ruby is next to him, her head laying against his shoulder while Amber is sound asleep against his chest. Arthur is laying against his other side, while Jade is laying on the couch, her head near Ilya's.

"This has been the best day, Uncle Ilya," Ruby whispers between bites of candy, and he really has to agree.

It had been Shane's suggestion, actually. A distraction on the first night of his nearly two week absence doing god knows what for this sponsor and that, packing everything he can into these two weeks of otherwise free time. And Ilya's more grateful for it than he can express to the four little beings who take up an inordinate amount of space in his heart.

He reaches over to hold Ruby steady as he places a kiss to the crown of her head, his freshly painted nails sparkling in the dim light of the TV.

"Anything for you," he replies, and she beams at him before eating another handful of M&Ms.

His phone rings at ten in the morning two days later.

Hayden Pike.

Ilya rolls his eyes, and lets the phone vibrate five times before he slowly slides his finger across the screen to answer. Normally, he wouldn't answer at all, or at the very least not answer now and then consider calling Hayden back in a day or two. But as it stands, he's set to go over and spend time with the kids on Saturday, and he figures this is probably about that.

"Why are you calling me?" he answers with no preamble. "Did you lose one of the kids again?"

He waits for the inevitable, 'fuck you, that was one time,' that's sure to follow his mostly good-natured ribbing, but instead, he's greeted with a long and drawn out, "Heeeeeeey."

This immediately sets Ilya on edge. He's not used to Hayden not taking the bait Ilya hangs so generously in front of Shane's best friend. If he's honest, he doesn't think there's been a single time Hayden hasn't bitten back.

"What's wrong?" he asks, sitting up from the reclining position he's been in on the couch all morning.

"Nothing!" Hayden says too quickly and far too loudly to be believed.

Ilya's eyes narrow. "Then why do you sound like that?"

"Well, I mean it's mostly fine. Like, no one's in danger of dying or anything."

Ilya scratches at his head which has been strangely and annoyingly itchy since yesterday, and he can't quite figure out why. David tends to blame everything on allergies, so Ilya chalks it up to that. "That's very comforting," he deadpans. "Why are you calling?"

"Um, well," Hayden says, and then Ilya hears him take a deep breath, his next words coming out in a stream that takes Ilya a full ten seconds to register, "I'm so sorry the kids have lice we just found out this morning and Jackie made me call you to tell you, and maybe you're lucky and don't have it, but you probably do, and did I mention I'm sorry?"

Ilya's fingers pause their scratching, as realization hits. "Wow," he manages, suddenly feeling as if he needs to run to the shower.

"Listen," Hayden starts, his tone switching quickly from apologetic to defensive. "I don't want to hear it. Having lice doesn't mean anything bad or that our house is dirty or anything like that. In fact lice prefer clean scalps, they love that shit, and you can judge me for a lot of shit, but this isn't one of them."

A sly smile lifts the corners of Ilya's mouth, as his scalp itches to the point where he's forced to resume scratching. "Been spending some time on Google to make yourself feel better?"

"Fuck you," Hayden says without any real heat, and it's all the answer Ilya needs.

And really, he's not judging Hayden. For this, at least. This kind of thing happens, especially with kids, and he knows the Pikes keep a busy schedule of play dates and visits to parks and play cafes and the like. He certainly isn't going to judge any of them, but just because he isn't judging, doesn't mean there's no blame to be placed. Ilya is going to have to do a lot of shit because of this, and he's already annoyed at the prospect of his free day spent scrolling his phone on the couch being ruined by combing through his hair and checking all the furniture for tiny, bloodsucking parasites.

And since he obviously can't blame the kids or their wonderful mother Jackie, there's really only one place left for that blame to go.

Hayden.

"Well, thank you for letting me know," Ilya says, his tone as casual as he can manage. "It seems I have some work to do."

He pulls the phone away from his ear, ready to end the call without another word when he hears Hayden talk again.

"Wow, you're actually being really cool about this. Thank you," he says, and Ilya's grin from before slowly creeps back up his face. He almost wishes Hayden could see it, because he's sure it would terrify the man.

When Ilya speaks, his voice is low and menacing. "Make no mistake, Hayden. There is nothing cool about this, and one day, when you least expect it, you will pay for it in ways you can never imagine."

Ilya pauses, enjoying the intake of breath that's clearly scared, even across the two hundred kilometers that separate them. He let's the silence hang between them for a beat longer before he switches his voice back to something far more pleasant as he sing-songs, "See you Saturday!"

Shane tries to FaceTime him that evening, but Ilya rejects it, only answering when Shane calls him normally.

"Hey, are you okay?" Shane asks as soon as he picks up. "Are you busy or something?"

Hearing Shane's voice almost lulls Ilya into forgetting the nightmare of his day, but Ilya decides it's best to rip off the bandaid. As much as he's willing to right now, anyway.

He takes a deep breath and says on the exhale, "I shaved my hair."

The response is instantaneous, and it weirdly makes Ilya feel better for a brief second. At least someone else will mourn the loss of his beautiful hair as much as Ilya himself.

"I'm sorry, what?" Shane shouts so loudly, Ilya has to pull the phone away from his ear. "What the fuck, Ilya? Are you okay? Have you been reading that Reddit snark page about you again? I told you those people were idiots and didn't know what they were talking about. Do I need to come home? God, let me pack my things. I can be there in like five hours if I—"

"Shane," Ilya interrupts, knowing that if he lets Shane go on much longer, he really will be on the next flight back. And as tempting as it is, he really likes all the free shit Shane gets to bring home and he's in desperate need of a new watch after the last barbecue at Bood's went slightly awry. "I'm fine, I just have lice."

There's a long pause, and though Ilya can't see Shane's face, he can imagine the exact look that's there. Forehead wrinkled, lips set in a thin line, his eyes moving slowly around the room as he tries to figure something out. "You're going to have to expand on that, I think."

"Turns out the sleepover I hosted for the Pikes had more than a few uninvited guests," Ilya offers and he hears Shane exhale in relief at the explanation, making a mental note to ask when he gets home exactly what other scenarios were playing out in Shane's overactive brain.

"Oh," Shane says plainly, and Ilya manages to count to three in his head before Shane's panic sets in. "Fuck, we're going to have to burn the whole house down to get rid of them aren't we? Are there companies that do that? I mean, if they're confined to one area of the house maybe we can—

"Shane," Ilya has to interrupt again, suddenly missing his husband and the way he knows Shane is gnawing nervously at his lip right now. "It's already taken care of. I took care of it."

"Right," Shane replies. "Of course you did. Sorry, I'm sure you're going through it, my god. Your hair. I love your hair. Did you really have to shave it? We could have combed through it and gotten all of that out."

"We could have, hmm?" Ilya questions sarcastically even though he's smiling at the thought. Sue him for loving that everything they do is a two person job, now.

"Well, you know what I mean," Shane sighs. "Someone would have helped you. One of the guys?"

It's true. And Ilya had seriously considered asking Troy to come over and comb bugs out of his hair, but his dramatics won out and even though he's not fond of himself with short hair, he's looking forward to seeing Hayden's face when he realizes what Ilya had to do. Plus, Troy would have made it a whole Thing and Ilya already has enough non-parasite related sentimentality in his life. He doesn't need to add more because of this stupidly unfortunate situation.

"They could have, but I didn't want to bother anyone," he tells Shane. "Besides, it will grow back, eventually. And at least I'm not itching anymore after the shampoo."

"I bet Hayden and Jackie feel awful."

Ilya has about twenty apology texts from Jackie he knows he needs to respond to. "Yes, they do."

"You're going to make Hayden suffer for this, aren't you?"

He grins, loving how well Shane knows him without even a hint as to what Ilya has planned. "Yes, I am."

"There was no way you were going to be normal about this," Shane groans, and Ilya can imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose. "What are you going to do?"

"Nothing much," Ilya tells him, running a hand over his buzzed hair, enjoying how fuzzy it feels underneath his fingers despite how much he dislikes his haircut overall. "Just fuck with him a bit. Psychologically speaking."

"What does that even look like—wait, nevermind, I don't want to know," Shane changes his mind mid-sentence, and Ilya decides that's as close to an endorsement of his plans as he's going to get. "Will you please let me see you? It can't be that bad."

"No," Ilya shakes his head. "I want to wait until you get home. Give myself a chance to get used to it."

"I miss your face," Shane says, and Ilya knows he's pouting, but he holds strong. As much as he wants to see Shane, he needs time to process the fact that his head now resembles a kiwi.

"I miss yours, too." He can't resist saying it back.

"I'm sad about your hair, but I'm also horny as fuck. Is that weird?"

Ilya smiles fondly, already starting to palm at his shorts having heard those most magical of words. "There are many weird things about you, my love, but I can assure you, your less than ideal horniness timing isn't one of them."

"Good," he replies, and Ilya loves how breathy Shane already sounds. "Wanna put your voice to use, since I can't see your face?"

"Of course."

"You're touching yourself already, aren't you?" Shane asks and when Ilya hums his answer, Shane lets out an incredulous laugh. "Let me grab lube."

"As if you're going to need it in about two minutes," he quips back while he lowers his shorts and settles back against freshly bought, lice-free pillows.

Shane's responding, "Fuck you," comes out as a strangled moan, and Ilya's not sure if a mutual orgasm with his husband over the phone will help him forget his nearly hairless head, but he's never exactly felt worse after one, so who is he to say no?

Ilya's phone rings at 4:30 the next day. He looks at the screen and grins. "Right on schedule," he says and then takes a long sip of his tea, letting the phone continue to vibrate next to him for longer than was strictly necessary.

"Hello, Hayden," he says pleasantly when he finally answers. "To what do I owe the absolute pleasure of speaking with you?"

"Why did you send me flowers?"

Straight to the point. Nice to know he's capable of it when it suits him, Ilya thinks, and he decides he's not quite ready to do the same because where's the fun in that?

"Hmm, that's not ringing any bells."

"Weird because the card says, 'To Hayden from the best player in the NHL."

"Oh!" Ilya feigns enlightenment. "Are you talking about the bouquet of yellow roses, black dahlias, and tansy flowers that I sent to you?"

"How am I supposed to know what kind of flowers they are?" Hayden quips back and Ilya rolls his eyes. Of course Hayden Pike wouldn't have any idea about finer things in life that didn't include food or hockey. "Why did you send them to me?"

"As a thank you for letting me spend time with your children, Hayden," Ilya says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world a man would send another man flowers for.

The pause after is so long Ilya pulls his phone away from his head to check and make sure he hasn't been hung up on. "That's it?"

A devious grin finds its all too familiar spot on Ilya's face. "Were you expecting something else?" Ilya asks innocently.

"Well, yeah, considering you said you were going to get revenge on me," Hayden says. "You're sure there's not some itching power or a hidden camera in here where you're streaming my life to the internet?"

Ilya can't help the barking laugh that escapes him. "There is no one who would want to watch that. And besides, you seem to be the expert at showing your friend's lives on the internet."

"Ouch," Hayden sighs, and Ilya almost feels badly for saying it. Almost.

"Goodbye, Hayden," he goads once again in a song like way, because five minutes on the phone with Hayden is past his quota for the quarter. "Enjoy the flowers. See you tomorrow!"

"And that," Ilya says as he pulls a toothpick from the center of the pan of brownies, a small amount of the sweet treat still clinging to the wood. "Is how you tell that the brownies are done."

"Wow," Jade emphasized across the kitchen island from him in the Pike's Montreal home. "You know so much cool stuff, Uncle Ilya."

He leans across the space so he can wiggle the toothpick in front of her eyes. "Someone has to teach you the most important things in life, yes?"

She giggles and nods, and Ilya smiles back only just managing to catch her twin sister trying to stick her finger into the pan to get a bite. "Not yet, Ruby. We have to let them cool," he chides gently.

Ruby pouts lightly, until her eyes settle on a plate of cookies on the counter. "Can we have a cookie while we wait?"

"Obviously," Ilya replies, grinning as he watches them each take a cookie and run out to the backyard. He follows them slowly, taking in a deep breath as the warm sun hits his face once he's outside, grateful for the distraction of the twins' laughter while Amber and Arthur nap inside.

He'd been almost nervous coming over, not at all sure how the kids would react to his shaved hair, but besides a bit of initial surprise, Jade loudly asking if Ilya has cancer, and repeated apologies from Jackie while Hayden stood in a corner, expression oscillating between shock and fear, it hadn't been much of a thing.

The girls continue to play and soon he's joined by a still sleepy Amber who raises her arms to him and dozes on his chest as Arthur watches his older sisters bicker about who gets to be the goalie in the most loosely-ruled game of soccer he's ever witnessed.

The breeze feels strange on his head, but he finds he's not hating it as much as he thought he would, and the relatively easy acceptance by the kids has lifted his spirts to the point he can almost forget he's nearly bald. At least as much as his vanity will let him, anyway, and he has much more important things to focus on, he reminds himself.

Too soon for his liking, Hayden and Jackie have returned from their afternoon out to find Ilya cutting up the tray of now cooled brownies. He plates them while he listens to Jackie tell him about the friends they had lunch with and her latest shoe acquisitions for the kids, and when Jade tries to take a specific plate, Ilya stops her by telling her, "That one is for your dad,"

Hayden blinks at him, his expression suddenly turning fearful as his eyes move from the brownie up to Ilya's hair. He swallows visibly and then shakes his head, "I'm not hungry."

"What are you talking about?" Jackie asks, picking up the plate Ilya has designated for Hayden and handing it to him. "You were just talking in the car about how you were going to decimate some dessert when you got home."

"Well, I'm so glad I can help with that," Ilya says kindly, while holding out a fork to Hayden who continues to look more frightened than Ilya ever remembers him looking.

"What did you do to them?" Hayden asks, and Ilya simply continues to smile back.

"Whatever do you mean? Why would I do anything to brownies that I served to you and your children?"

Jackie gives Hayden a funny look before she punches his arm in a chastising way. "Why are you being paranoid? It's just a brownie."

"Yeah, Hayden," Ilya echoes. "It's just a brownie."

He watches with delight as Hayden takes a hesitant bite, still appearing as if he thinks Satan himself will jump out at him at any time. Hayden chews and swallows, and Ilya can see the battle still raging in his mind between if he wants to enjoy the obviously incredible brownie or still believe Ilya might be trying to poison his entire family.

It's the most entertaining thing to happen to Ilya in a long time, so when Jackie insists he stay for dinner, Ilya leans against the island, his chin propped up in his hand as he continues to smile at Hayden, and says, "I would love nothing more."

"Are you sure you don't need me to come home?" Shane asks on the phone a few days later. "Because I just read an ESPN article that quoted you as saying, 'Hayden Pike is THE player to watch this year,' and I don't think I've ever been more concerned about you."

Ilya laughs so hard, tears streak down his face, and while he's not sure if that helps Shane feel better about his mental state, but he feels better than he has in days, hearing his husband's voice and knowing his plans to fuck with Hayden are very much on track.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," he finally manages after his laugh dies into sparse chuckles. "Trust me, I am feeling very good."

"Oh," Shane realizes. "This is you messing with him because of the lice, isn't it?"

"God, you're so smart," Ilya praises, and he hopes it makes his husband blush all the way in New York.

Shane ignores him for a more pressing matter. "Has he said anything to you about it yet?"

Ilya's phone vibrates in his hand. "It would appear so, let me see." He puts Shane on speaker so he can read aloud the message he's just received from Hayden. "'What the fuck is this? This isn't funny, Rozanov. Please go back to being a giant asshole to me, I like it better that way. I can't live like this anymore. You're in my head. You won. Please stop.'"

Shane's answering sigh is full from years of long-suffering they both know isn't going to end any time soon. "So, that's the end of it, right? He said you won."

"If that's what you need to tell yourself, then I am fine with this," Ilya deflects as he begins to type back to Hayden, 'I don't know what you're talking about, this is just me praising my friend and provider of my head lice.'

"Are you ever going to let him off the hook?"

Ilya shrugs and huffs, "Maybe when my hair grows back,"

"How is your hair feeling?" Shane asks, and Ilya instinctively reaches his hand up to run it over the short and fuzzy strands.

"Pretty bare," Ilya says, unable to keep the sadness out of his voice. He knows it's just hair, but he also knows that Shane loves his hair, and the closer they get to Shane's homecoming the more nervous he gets. Not that Shane's going to love him any less or whatever, but Ilya takes pride in how much Shane is attracted to him, and he hates to think that might lessen even a little bit whenever Shane sees him with his new hair. "And suffering from a shocking lack of Shane Hollander's fingers running through it."

"Two more days," Shane supplies, and Ilya feels that now familiar mix of elation and dread.

"And how are you feeling about my hair?" Ilya questions, unable to stop himself from asking.

"A little sad still, but you know I don't care about your hair, right? I just love you so much," Shane says earnestly, and Ilya feels his shoulders release some tension he hadn't even been aware they were holding.

"I love you, too," Ilya tells him, and then asks another thing he can't resist knowing, his voice low. "And are you still feeling horny along with that sadness?"

Shane's responding laugh sends jolts up Ilya's spine. "You know me too well."

When Shane returns home, Ilya greets him in the entryway with a racing heart and a sheepish grin that he's pretty sure is screaming, 'I'm fragile, please don't reject me'. He watches Shane's mouth drops open, tripping as he toes off his shoes, his luggage all but forgotten as he walks toward Ilya.

Shane whispers, "Holy fuck," and Ilya winces. He knew it would be shock, but he'd kind of been hoping Shane had been mentally preparing himself as much as Ilya had to at least pretend Ilya's hair isn't the most horrific thing he's ever seen. Shane's face tells him that clearly isn't happening.

"I know it's bad, but it will grow back," he offers desperately, already feeling the prick of tears, hating that it matters. "I'm sorry, I should have tried to save it. I—"

"Hot," Shane interjects, and it's then that Ilya notices his pupils are blown, brown irises barely visible.

"What?"

"You look so fucking hot," Shane breathes, and Ilya blinks as the words settle over him. Shane licks his lips and lunges forward, his mouth finding Ilya's like a ship coming into shore after a long journey.

Ilya sinks into it, tears slipping out, but for a completely different reason than before. Their lips moving together and all he can think is relief. Such sweet, beautiful, fucking relief he feels at Shane pawing and his chest and up into his hair. Ilya groans into his mouth at the contact, but Shane pulls back, his eyes wide as his fingers form into fists, pulling lightly at the peach fuzz on Ilya's head.

"Oh, my god, that feels amazing," he says, eyes fluttering closed rapturously, and Ilya is helpless to do anything but smile and silently thank the parasites for providing him this weird and wonderful moment.

Shane kisses him again, his tongue slipping into Ilya's mouth to lick the last remnants of sadness from Ilya's psyche. "My hands are always going to be in your hair," Shane tells him when he's kissing down Ilya's neck.

"Oh, no," Ilya says with absolutely no remorse. "Whatever will I do?"

Shane laughs into his skin and Ilya's squeezes his ass while he questions, "Bedroom?"

Hands reluctantly leave Ilya's hair to dig in his pockets, emerging with several packets of lube. "No," Shane says, shoving the packets into Ilya's chest, barely giving Ilya time to grab them before Shane's hands are back in his here. "Here."

And the lingering soreness of his knees from fucking his husband in the entryway is infinitely worth it.

They spend the next few days constantly touching in one way or another. Shane in his lap facing him with his hands in Ilya's hair. Shane in his lap riding him with his hands in Ilya's hair. Shane in the shower with his hands in Ilya's hair. Shane in the shower while Ilya blows him with his hands in Ilya's hair. Shane's hands are in his hair so much, Ilya's a little worried he might get a bald spot.

And he's not mad about, certainly. He loves it. There were so many years he wished for this exact situation, but Ilya has no plans to keep his hair like this, and he's starting to worry Shane might like his hair better like this.

When he finally feels brave enough to bring it up to Shane, his husband looks at him like he's just said something completely ridiculous. "It's your hair, baby," he says, even as he continually runs his fingers into it. "You do what you want. I just like how it feels. It's calming."

"But if it calms you, wouldn't you like me to keep it like this?"

Shane leans down and presses his forehead against Ilya's. "Not at all. I like it like this, obviously. You look really fucking sexy, but I also equally love your longer hair. Neither of them is better. It's just different."

Different. He can live with different, and considering different has lead to having so many orgasms he nearly has to turn Shane away, he's not going to complain about it any time soon.

He's so happy, actually, that the next time they go to the Pike's house for dinner a week later, he's not thinking of anything else, until Hayden nearly jumps when he walks up behind him to place steaks on the table near the grill.

"Holy shit," Hayden says, clutching at his chest with a hand that's also holding a pair on tongs. "Seriously, when are you going to fucking stop this?"

Ilya looks around him confused, wondering if there's someone else outside that Hayden's talking to. When he finds no one, his brow furrows. "What are you talking about? I'm just bringing you food for the grill."

"Oh, are you?" Hayden bites back with a sarcasm Ilya's not used to hearing from him. He pokes at Ilya's chest with the tongs, eyes narrowed. "I know this is part of your weird ass revenge plan. Be all nice to me, get me to let my guard down, and then you strike. Well, it's not working, Rozanov. I'm not falling for it. I said I was fucking sorry. What more do you want from me?"

Oh! Right. That.

He honestly can't believe he'd nearly forgotten it.

"That is over," Ilya says, his mouth splitting into a wide smirk. "Did I forget to mention?"

"What?" Hayden says dumbly, his tong-laden hand dropping limp to his side. "You can't be serious."

"I am very serious," Ilya affirms with a shrug. "Shane came home and thinks I am very sexy, obviously, and he loves my hair. He's spent the last week actively trying to make my dick fall off because of it. I mean fuck, the sex, Hayden. It's been incredible. Really, at this point I should be thanking you."

A breathy huff leaves Hayden's mouth, his lower jaw dropping open as he stares at Ilya in disbelief. "I have spent the last three weeks looking over my shoulder at every fucking turn, just waiting for you to show up, and not only have you been fucking nice to me, but you conveniently forget to tell me you're done trying to get revenge on me for my kids giving you lice because you've been too busy dicking down my best friend?"

"I mean, I guess you could put it that way," Ilya offers, barely holding back a laugh as Hayden throws up his hands and accidentally hits himself in the head with the tongs.

"I can't fucking believe this," he says, brushing past Ilya to walk a back into the kitchen. He mutters the whole way about how he needs new friends, and when he passes Shane coming out onto the back deck, he glares at him and cries out, "Seriously?!"

Shane comes to stand next to Ilya, a questioning look on his face. "What was that about?"

"Oh, he's mad because I was nice to him and then forgot to tell him I wasn't going to take any real revenge on him." He closes the space between them, lowering his head a bit to give Shane the chance to run his fingers through it. He knows he probably needs it after that strange encounter with his best friend.

"Wait, you're not taking revenge anymore?" Shane asks when Ilya's eyes close at the contact.

"Doesn't really seem worth it considering how happy I am," he practically purrs, and Shane's tiny smile makes him want to march to the car and drive home now.

"I mean, I don't know," Shane says with a mischievous glint in his eyes that Ilya knows full well he's influenced, and he loves it. "I think a little revenge is still okay, don't you? He was kind of responsible for you having to shave your gorgeous hair, after all."

Ilya bridges what little space remains between them, his lips at Shane's ear. "Did you have something in mind?"

"Want to go make out in front of the security camera by the garage so Hayden gets a bunch of alerts on his phone that someone's there, and he sees us doing it?"

Whoa. Is it possible to fall in love with your husband all over again from a single sentence? As Shane giddily leads him to the side of Hayden's house, kissing Ilya breathless the second they're in view of the camera, Ilya's fairly certain the answer is yes.