Summary:

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll whisssss-peeerrrr,” Shane says, not exactly in a whisper, but more like, in a quiet yell. But it’s still technically quieter than a moment ago. Then he immediately goes back to his inside-voice-but-absolutely-not-whispering volume. His smile opens up and he says, “Basically I didn’t want you to think I was just in love with you because of your nine inches, or because I was riding you all day or something, and then when we said each other’s names I just got freaked out and too in my own head about everything.” “Nine inches?” Ilya says, laughing nervously, remembering that lie about his dick size. And then his universe closes in on a single word. “Love?” Shane is recovering from a concussion on the ice. Ilya visits him in the hospital. They're both surprised by what Shane has to say.