Summary:

“M’ sorry, I’m sorry”, Shane whimpers, “Jus’ needed something dirty, couldn’t smell you on your clothes. Smelt bad, smelt wrong. M’ sorry, m’ sorry-” “Is okay, my love”, Ilya reassures, trying desperately to focus on comforting Shane, eyes zeroing in on the way his husband’s legs have fallen open, revealing Shane’s tuft of dark pubic hair and the shimmer of slick on his protruding labia, “What do you need, moy lyubimyy?” Ilya asks, “Tell me- and I will get it for you” Or Shane wants Ilya's dirty clothes for his nest.