Summary:

Harris, who was sitting next to Shane, nudged him with his foot. “Yeah, I mean, it’s not kinky kinky unless Shane went out and bought, like, a full-on sex swing or something crazy like–” Harris stopped talking because Shane had frozen. Completely frozen. His glass halted halfway to his lips. His eyes went wide and fixed on a point on the far wall. The blush that had been a soft pink bloomed into a scarlet tide that crept from his neckline to the roots of his hair. Ilya, watching him, threw his head back and burst out laughing. (or, 5 times Ottawa Centaurs found out their sweet Canadian cinnamonroll is a freak and 1 time they realized that Hollanov's freaks are matched)