Summary:

If Ilya could do it all over again, there is one thing he would change.

It's not a big thing. It’s so tiny, in comparison to everything Shane gives him: all his love and patience and kindness and his mocking smiles on the ice and his quiet laughter in the mornings and long summer days at the cottage and, yes, his body, his beautiful insatiable body that craves Ilya and welcomes Ilya and belongs to Ilya, as Shane swears over and over again. Ilya is so fucking lucky, so fucking amazed every time they touch, still overwhelmed with gratitude that never fades no matter how many times and how many ways they savor each other. It doesn't matter at all, really, that there is one way he's never had Shane, and never will.

But still. If he could do everything over from the beginning, he would ask Shane to fuck him, first.

 

Or: Ilya really wants Shane to fuck him. He figures out a way to persuade Shane to want it too.

Or: whoops, I over-identified with Ilya Rozanov (as a bisexual of Annoying experience) and then I needed him to get railed.