One side of the argument says hollanov fucked rough and nasty in the tampa hotel, the other side says it was slow and tender but we don’t have to fight. We can have both. They can fuck twice. I’m so serious. I don’t think they talk much, the first time. Let alone first names. It’s a physical reunion made potent by the unsaid things, fast with just hands and mouths searching for the other. Then they talk, sprawled in bed. Just small talk, catching up. They’ve missed each other so fucking much, and something is different now, a wall torn down. The second time is slower, Ilya putting Shane on his hands and knees like Shane likes but going slow, taking their time. And then they do it a forbidden third time after they’ve showered, both shaking and oversensitive when Shane pulls Ilya back inside him, face to face, and Ilya says something in Shane’s ear so soft and whispery enough that Shane pretends he doesn’t hear it, to spare himself and also to spare Ilya, because it’s enough that Ilya says it at all: Fine, you’re right, Hollander, you win Shane, you fucking win, Shane…
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