Ilya:Not stupid.
Shane:I’ll tell Farah about the meeting, but explain what we want to do.
Ilya:Ok.
Shane:When are you getting here?
Ilya was keen to see Shane, but before he got on the road, Anya needed her walk.
Ilya:Soon.
Ilya considered, as he walked around the slushy sidewalks of his neighborhood, that he should probably book another appointment with Galina. It had been a couple of weeks, and he didn’t want to get lazy about it. He certainly had something to talk about now.
Oddly, he’d been feeling relatively peaceful since they’d been outed. Shane, he knew, was an absolute wreck, but Ilya was ready to face whatever happened next. Even though what was going to happen next was a meeting with Crowell. He should be nervous about that, but he was more curious than anything.
Curious, and ready to fight.
Ilya passed his neighbors’ house—the one where Willa and Andrew lived—and stopped dead in his tracks. There was a large hand-drawn sign attached to the tree near the end of their driveway:We love you, Ilya!
Underneath the sign was a little shelf that held two Funko Pop figures: one of Ilya, and one of Shane.
Ilya fumbled for the phone he was glad he’d decided to shove in his coat pocket before leaving. He turned it on, took a photo, and sent it to Shane.
Shane:Oh wow. Is that your neighbors’ house?
Ilya:Yes. We are not so alone, I think.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Are your parents still here?” Ilya asked as soon as he’d finished kissing Shane hello.
“No, I told them they could go home. I loved having them here, but I, um...”
“Want to be railed by your boyfriend?”
Shane’s eyes darkened. “Fuck yes.”
Their mouths crashed back together. Ilya gripped Shane’s hair, still mostly wet from the shower he’d obviously just taken. He smelled like seaweed shampoo and sport bodywash and tasted like toothpaste. Ilya wanted to devour him.
“Make me forget everything,” Shane murmured. “Just want to feel you.” He started walking backward toward the living room, clutching Ilya’s coat, pulling him closer.
Ilya broke the kiss to check on Anya. She’d found one of her toys on the living room floor and was chomping happily on it in her dog bed.
Ilya removed his coat and sneakers, leaving them in a pile by the door. “This way,” he said, and took Shane’s hand.
“The hell?” Shane said when he realized Ilya had led him to his trophy room.
Ilya just smiled at him.
“No way,” Shane said. “Weird.”
“Is it?” Ilya asked, trailing a finger along Shane’s jaw. “I thought you need a reminder, before our meeting tomorrow.”
“Reminder of what?” Shane said faintly as he tipped his head to the side and closed his eyes.
Ilya kissed just under his jaw, then in front of his ear. “Of who the fuck you are.”
Shane gasped and grabbed a fistful of Ilya’s T-shirt, as if to steady himself. “Yes,” he whispered. “Remind me.”
