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Summary
Ilya watched as Shane took another sip of his ginger ale, and his head was instantly flooded with all the same dirty thoughts again. His eyes honed in on his husband’s soft, plump lips, and he was starting to dread the next two hours that he was going to have to spend watching him continue to drink his stupid drink from across the room while pretending to focus on a movie. He debated pretending not to feel well, just so he and Shane would have an excuse to go back to the cottage, but he knew Shane would be uncomfortable with lying to his parents and David would be bummed, so he wasn’t really seeing a way out of this situation. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t have a little fun. He smirked to himself and pulled out his phone, shooting off a text to the man sitting across from him.
Ilya
When we get home, you are sucking my dick.