"Shaaaaaaane." Ilya whines as he slouches into the bedroom, flopping down onto the bed and on top of his husband.
He gets to enjoy about three blissful, beautiful seconds of pressing Shane's body down into their bed before Ilya finds himself on the floor, the wind knocked out of him, staring up at the ceiling.
"Fuck." Shane says from his place on the bed, "Sorry, baby. But. Please do not try and touch me again. It's too fucking hot."
"So you throw me from the bed?!" Ilya huffs, lifting himself up onto his elbows, craning his neck to look at Shane.
His husband is sprawled starfish-style on the bed, clad in only a pair of tiny boxer briefs, his skin shiny with a layer of sweat. The fan they set up at the end of their bed to help ruffles Shane's hair with every pass, but it's just more warm air being pushed around.
"Too hot. Don't touch." Shane mumbles, eyes closed. He looks completely unbothered by the fact that he fully shoved Ilya off the bed and onto the floor. If Ilya didn't love him so much, he may be upset.
"But I want to cuddle." Ilya whines once more, climbing onto the bed from the floor, inching towards Shane.
"I love you with my whole heart and body," Shane states, "But I swear to god if you even attempt to touch me right now, you will end up in the hospital."
Ilya muffles his laugh into the sheets of the bed; the world doesn't get this version of Shane. They get the version where he's nice and sweet, a golden Canadian boy, one who doesn't snark and snap at someone because he's uncomfortable in the heat.
All it does is reaffirm the love Shane has for Ilya. Because he is comfortable enough with Ilya to be his true self.
"Fine." Ilya emerges from the blankets, rolling onto his back. The king sized bed does allow them to both lay there comfortably without touching, but Ilya loves his husband far too much, so he stretches his arm out until his pinky rests next to Shane's. "In my mind, I am wrapped around you like koala."
"Ditto." Shane replies sleepily.
"When does repair man come?"
"Hm." Ilya's pinky twitches, brushes against Shane's. He waits to see if he'll end up on the floor again, but he doesn't. Instead, Shane's pinky curls around Ilya's. A compromise that Ilya grins about. "We have much money and cannot bribe them to come sooner?"
"We are not those people." Shane tells him. Ilya waits, and then: "Also, I tried. But we're in the middle of a ridiculous heat wave. They aren't taking any bribes."
Ilya's laugh bursts into the too hot room and on the bed next to him, Shane laughs as well.
"You are not so boring, after all."
"Can't tell anyone," Shane giggles, "You'll ruin my reputation."
"Take it to my grave." Ilya nods, mock seriously.
They lapse into silence, only the whir of the fan filling the room.
Ilya gives it another two minutes before he asks: "Can we please book a hotel room now? I want to be cold and cuddled in bed with you."
Shane had protested, before, saying it was ridiculous for them to book a hotel room just because they're got. That was also pre-overheated Shane, who thinks very different from currently overheated Shane.
"Fuck it. Book the room."
"Already did." Ilya grins, sitting up, "Pack your bag!"
"Of course you did." Shane sighs, movements sluggish as he peels himself off of the bed. "Do we really need to pack?"
"Yes because you will complain if we don't." Ilya darts over, pecks his husband on the lips, and rolls away before Shane can shove him away. "Let's go, sweetheart. I can fuck you when we are in AC."
Shane gets moving a bit faster after that.