Summary:

“Come on, Shane don’t be like this.” “Be like what exactly?” Shane found himself biting out, already regretting the answer the moment the words left his mouth. Hayden groaned, the sound of his tired exhale hanging in the air as he dropped his greasy bag of fast food onto the nightstand. With a soft rustle of sheets, he settled onto the edge of the bed. Shane could feel his eyes on him, though he was still facing away, not being able to bring himself to meet Hayden’s eyes just yet. “Look, I’m just not used to it yet, alright?” Hayden’s voice was low, edged with frustration. “Can you blame me? We used to talk shit about him all the time, and now I’m just supposed to... what? Like Rozanov?” -- Or: Despite the dinner with Hayden eventually ending with an apology, and some sort of truce between Hayden and Ilya, Shane is still struggling.