Summary:

"Yeah, um. Thanks, I guess." Hollander's reply was vacant, and Ilya moved to gather his clothes and pull his boxers on, taking care to keep his movements smooth and casual. He had to get away. Now. Before he did or said something unfortunate. One word from Hollander, naked on the edge of the bed, derailed his plans. "Wait," Hollander pleaded, and there was something undeniably vulnerable in his voice. Ilya hesitated immediately, turned back to the bed. "Hollander?" --- Hotel room 1822 in Montreal, February 2011. What if Ilya did stay a little longer?