He’d already met the love of his life, and hewashead over heels, and he couldn’t tell anyone and it fucking sucked.
He let himself sulk for twenty minutes, then forced himself to stand up, adjusted his expression so he looked less miserable, and headed back downstairs. He left the cape and sword behind. The costume looked sexier this way anyway, with only the straps from the breastplate crisscrossing across his bare back.
By midnight, most of the guests had left. Babysitters needed to be relieved, and morning fitness schedules needed to be kept to. The stragglers—mostly kids—made after-party plans and called cabs when they noticed Ilya glaring at them. He may have tarnished his reputation as a fun party guy, but he didn’t care.
At twelve thirty, Ilya received a text from Shane.Party still going?
Ilya:No. Everyone is gone.
Ten minutes later, his doorbell rang.
Shane was standing on the doorstep in a puffy jacket, looking a little embarrassed.
“I didn’t want to use my key and scare the shit out of you,” he said. “Oh wow. That costume is even better in person.”
Ilya blinked, unable to find words.
Shane let out a shaky breath. “This is probably so stupid. I have to be back in Montreal for a practice tomorrow morning and—”
He didn’t get to finish that sentence, because Ilya was hauling him into the house and kissing him at the same time. He pressed Shane against a wall inside the door and devoured him while Shane ran his hands over Ilya’s mostly bare back. He couldn’t believe he was here. All night he’d been dying inside, wishing he could have the man he loved at his side. Wishing Shane was in his arms, in his lap, in a ridiculous costume, in front of everyone.
“You smell like weed,” Shane said when Ilya finally let him breathe.
“You’d know.”
“I know whatweedsmells like,” Shane said testily.
Ilya grinned at him. “You’re here.”
“Yeah.” Shane smiled shyly. “Is that okay? You sent that photo and I’ve just been—fuck, I missed you so much.”
Ilya kissed him again, then said, “You want to get fucked by a gladiator, Hollander?”
Shane gazed up at him through his dark lashes. “I put a plug in before I left.”
Holy shit.
With a growl, Ilya began stripping Shane of his puffy jacket, and then all of the rest of his clothes. “Fucking help me,” Ilya snarled as he tugged at Shane’s track pants.
Shane laughed and pressed his smile into Ilya’s neck as he toed off his sneakers, then stepped out of his pants and underwear. Once Shane was naked, Ilya grabbed his thighs and hitched him up until Shane’s strong legs wrapped around Ilya’s waist. Ilya carried him to the living room like that, kissing him the entire way. He slid a hand down to Shane’s ass, found the base of the plug, and pressed on it.
“Oh fuck,” Shane gasped.
“You drove the whole way here with this in?”
“Uh-huh.”
“That,” Ilya said as he carefully tugged at the toy, “is very slutty.”
“Not as slutty as that costume.” Shane relaxed his legs from around Ilya’s body and stood back. He ran his gaze appreciatively over Ilya. “Jesus.”
Ilya smiled. Maybe the costume wasn’t so ridiculous after all. “Worth the drive?”
“Fuck yeah.” Then Shane was back in Ilya’s arms, kissing him with a hand gripping the back of Ilya’s neck.
Ilya played with the toy some more, tapping the base, then pulling it nearly out before slowly pushing it back in. Shane shuddered, then whimpered, then bit Ilya’s shoulder.
“Is it safe even,” Ilya asked, “to wear a plug for so long?”
