Summary:

So they fuck, then shower, then settle out by the fire under Shane’s nicest Pendleton blanket to sip them and touch each other. Ilya strokes through Shane’s hair with a firm hand. The night sounds around them are delightful. Out in the lake, a fish jumps. The water laps gently against the dock, the vaguest ding, ding, ding. Shane’s brain is very quiet.

“Hmmm… tell me. Favorite color?” Ilya grumbles. Shane is lazing across his front. “Favorite food.”