Summary:

It’s Ilya who brings it up. He’s in his kitchen, making himself some kind of soup that Shane is already searching for recipes of—it’s called rassolnik. Leaning with one hip against the counter, he asks, “What about your sex dungeon?”

“I don’t have a sex dungeon,” Shane says, both grossed out and intrigued by the idea.

“The apartment, moya lyubov,” Ilya replies, fondness sheathed in annoyance. He slurps loudly, laughing when Shane makes a face at him over their video call. “What will you do with the apartment?”

“Sell it, maybe.”

--

Or, Shane doesn't sell the secret-sex-apartment building. He starts renting it out, and somehow ends up with a gaggle of Russian tenants-turned-friends, several stray cats, and one very spoiled hamster.