Summary:

Shane twists in Ilya’s arms to glare at him. “You shouldn’t be here if you have a wife,” he hisses. «Who the hell are we - you - married to?» Rozanov barks. Ilya’s attention on Shane doesn’t waver as he responds, first to Rozanov: «Our wife is the prettiest - constellations of freckles that spread in the summertime and big brown eyes like a baby deer’s even when they’re full of murder. Maybe especially then.» He bestows a kiss upon the furrow between Shane’s brows and thumbs the leaking tip of his cock. “Mm, maybe you’re right. My wife is very much the jealous type.” Or: After Shane doesn't get kissed in Vegas, a thirty-something Ilya Rozanov wearing a wedding ring engraved with Shane's number shows up to kiss him breathless in the elevator and give his younger self a lesson in how Shane deserves to be spoiled. (or or: Ilya uses a harmless bit of sexy dream magic to right an old wrong and show his husband a good time.)