1 – 1 of 1 Work in Mushy
- Mushy ×
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Ilya and Shane wake up together the morning of their wedding Shane woke to the soft hush of sunlight filtering through the curtains and the heavy, familiar weight of Ilya wrapped around him like a second blanket. This wasn’t just any morning. This was the morning. A huge smile bloomed across his face before he even opened his eyes. His heart was thudding, butterflies fluttering. He felt like a teenager again, like his entire body was vibrating with joy and nerves and love. Today, he was marrying Ilya Rozanov. His Ilya. His best friend. His chaos. His comfort. His person. It still didn’t feel real. He stayed still for a moment, soaking it in — the warmth of Ilya’s body, the scratch of his stubble against Shane’s neck, the steady rhythm of his breathing. Then came the softest press of lips to his skin. “Morning, sweetheart,” Ilya mumbled, voice rough with sleep. Shane smiled so hard his cheeks hurt. He turned over to face his fiancé, whose bedhead and crooked grin made Shane’s chest feel too small for his heart. “It’s our wedding day,” Shane whispered, barely containing his joy. “Mmm,” Ilya hummed, leaning in to kiss him. Shane didn’t even care about morning breath. Didn’t care that they both probably looked a mess. He kissed Ilya back, eager and laughing into it — until Ilya pulled away, eyes mischievous. “Hold that thought,” he said, rolling out of bed and padding naked to the closet. Shane propped himself up on one elbow, still grinning, watching him curiously. Ilya returned with a small wrapped box in one hand and an envelope in the other. He sat beside Shane and held them out like offerings. “For you. On our special day. I can't wait to marry you — in front of our friends, family…” He smirked. “And Hayden.” Shane laughed, heart aching with affection. He felt so full. So grateful. So ready. “I got you something too,” he said, cheeks pink. He reached into the drawer beside the bed and pulled out his own small box and envelope, pressing them into Ilya’s hands. “I… I'm not always the best gift giver, but I’m really excited about this one.” They exchanged their boxes first. Ilya unwrapped his with the enthusiasm of a kid on Christmas morning. Inside: a pair of polished gold cufflinks engraved with a small, elegant S&I. He went quiet for a moment, studying them with reverence. “I love them,” he said softly. “I’m wearing them tonight. Thank you, sweetheart.” Shane flushed, biting his lip. He opened Ilya’s box next — and blinked in surprise. A sleek, gleaming Rolex nestled in the velvet lining. He gaped. “I’ve never owned one of these,” he said, stunned. “Turn it over,” Ilya prompted, almost giddy. Shane flipped it. There, engraved in Russian, was the simple phrase: To my beloved. — Your husband. His throat tightened instantly. “Ilya…” “Check the envelope,” Ilya said, voice gentle now. Shane reached for it, grabbing his glasses from the nightstand to read. The moment he saw the header, he froze. The deed to the house in Ottawa. Their house. The one they’d been building a life in. And now, his name was on it — right there, in ink. “Ilya,” he said, blinking rapidly. “You—this is…” “This is our home,” Ilya said. “Where we live. Where we make memories. Where I get to annoy you until we’re old and grey.” Shane gave him a watery smile and leaned forward, brushing their lips together in a tender, tear-slicked kiss. “Thank you. I can’t wait to keep building our life here. Together.” Ilya wiped a thumb under Shane’s eye. “You’re crying.” “You started it.” “Fair.” Shane nudged Ilya’s envelope toward him. “Your turn.” Ilya waggled his eyebrows dramatically, teasing about it being coupons for sex, before carefully opening it. Inside: the deed to Shane’s lakeside cottage — the place Shane had
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,220
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #67992161