Summary:

"You know," Ilya says, "when we have a house together, I want those curtains with lace on the bottom. Like grandmothers have." "Are you trying to kill my boner?" Shane says. Ilya helps him out of his jeans, his hands immediately going to Shane's hips and pulling him down the bed. He gets Shane where he wants him and sinks to his knees, his mouth finding the soft skin of his inner thighs. "F-fuck," Shane says. "We will get sheets that are not navy blue," Ilya says, licking along the curve of his hip bone. "And maybe higher thread count because my baby is sensitive." "I hate you," Shane says, his breath hitching when Ilya bites him on the thigh, light but still a pinch. "How do you feel about air fryers?" Ilya asks. "I want one, I think." Or: Ilya and Shane go shopping for home decor.