Epilogue

Two Years Later

As Ilya walked out of his studio with Taiga on his heels, Julien pulled up in his car.

Taiga reached Julien first, the little dog racing full pelt across the drive to show how deliriously happy he was that Julien had returned from work.

Ilya felt the same way and did his own version of a happy dog.

Once Julien had stroked and scratched Taiga's head, he turned, and stroked and scratched Ilya's, then kissed the laugh on Ilya's face.

"Have you been a good boy?"

Julien asked.

"Yes."

Kissing Julien lit Ilya up with joy, made his heart beat faster, warmed him on the coldest day and always made him want more.

They kissed as if they'd been apart for weeks when Julien had only been gone since six that morning.

They kissed as Taiga ran in circles around them, kissed until Julien finally pulled away because Ilya couldn't.

It was too cold to stand around outside, even if they were kissing.

At times, Ilya still struggled to accept they were safe, that no one was looking for them, that no one wanted to fuck up their lives.

Maybe he'd never fully believe it.

He constantly strove to hide those worries from Julien, because it would be easy to feed each other's anxiety if they weren't careful.

Life was too short for that. Ilya's distrustful Russian nature was his own problem.

"How was your day?"

Ilya asked as they walked hand in hand to the house, Taiga dancing around their feet.

"Good."

It was always a relief to hear that answer.

Julien was a trauma surgeon at Canterbury Hospital and not every day was a good one.

Ilya was so proud of how Julien had fought for his second chance because it hadn't been easy.

Ilya had supported them both with his silver work until Julien had finally been given a job.

Ilya's father had offered to buy them somewhere to live, but Ilya had refused and for the first time, he'd felt a grudging respect from his father that he'd wanted to do this without help.

"I've already made us something to eat,"

Ilya said as they headed into the kitchen. "Just needs heating up. A mix of roasted vegetables, spiced couscous and a potato and egg…thing."

Julien mock-groaned. "Another thing? Is it like the last thing?"

Ilya elbowed him. "Yes. I ate it, didn't I?"

Though it had been hard going. Ilya could have just stuck to cooking what he knew and was good at, but he liked to experiment and wasn't always successful.

They had a big garden, mostly lawn, but a small part was dedicated to growing their own food.

When they'd chosen this place, Julien had wanted to find something that was as close to a dacha as they could get.

Their house wasn't near a river, but there were fruit trees and it was near woods and kind of cute with beams and interesting windows. Ilya loved it.

He had some news for Julien and now he knew he hadn't had a bad day, he was going to open some champagne and tell him.

"I need a shower."

Julien grabbed his hand.

"Do I?"

"Absolutely."

Ilya chuckled. "Forgotten how to wash yourself again?"

"I have a mind like a sieve."

They'd shed their clothes before they reached the bathroom. They were both hard. Taiga was shut out much to his annoyance, though he'd learned not to bark when they wanted alone time.

The shower was enormous, installed not long after they'd moved in and still looked brand new because Ilya was obsessive about cleaning it. He'd never had such a beautiful bathroom, all shining glass and gleaming chrome.

"I love you so much."

Julien pulled him into his arms under the water, thoroughly kissed him until Ilya could barely think straight, then dropped to his knees and took Ilya's cock in his mouth. Oh God. Ilya leaned back against the tiles, his scrabbling fingers failing to get a purchase as Julien sent him soaring.

It took an embarrassingly short amount of time for him to come. Something that was even more apparent after Ilya had dropped to his knees, wrapped his lips around Julien's cock, played his usual tricks and a few extra, and the guy was still hanging on.

Ilya panted as he looked up at him. "Am I losing my touch?"

"My willpower is stronger than yours. I like this too much."

Ilya groaned and licked the length of Julien's dick.

At least that made Julien groan loudly too. "It feels so good. If it wasn't for your poor knees, I'd keep you down there for hours."

He threaded his fingers in Ilya's hair.

"Hours? Even you don't have that much control. Hmm. I'm going to unleash my inner monster."

Julien frowned, then gasped as Ilya swallowed him down to his root, pressing his fingers into the seam of Julien's arse to tug him in. Then it didn't take long before his mouth filled with come.

Ilya was pulled to his feet and hugged. "You are a monster. I wanted another ten minutes of that."

"I'm going to do a reward chart and we'll time each other."

"You know I'll win."

"We'll both win."

Ilya fed Taiga before he started to heat up their food. Julien took the dog out into the garden and watched him, though they both knew Taiga wouldn't run off. He was around seven years old, a rescue dog that they'd both fallen for because he'd sat at the back of his caged area and wouldn't come to the bars to greet them like all the other dogs had.

When Ilya had said he was going to change his name from Reggie to Taiga, Julien had laughed because the timid dog had not an ounce of ferociousness about him. Then Ilya had explained it wasn't Tiger but Taiga, as in the Russian taiga, because he was the colour of snow. It had taken time to gain the dog's trust but they had it. Ilya worked from home and the dog only left his side when Julien came back.

Taiga went straight to his basket and curled up when he came in. Ilya put the plates of food on the table and handed Julien a bottle of champagne to open.

"What are we celebrating?"

Julien asked as he untwisted the wire.

"You being the second-best boyfriend in the entire world."

"Or?"

"You being the best boyfriend in the entire world?"

Julien laughed, the cork came out with a pop, and he poured the champagne. "Try again."

Ilya tapped his phone and showed Julien the article in Vogue. His heart pounded as he watched him read. Ilya knew almost word for word what the magazine said, because he'd read it over and over… that his fascination with the natural world had translated into astonishing pieces that showed both the savagery and beauty of nature. His talent was astounding… Blah blah…

But he'd had to hide his Russian side. His business was called Taylored and he did all he could to avoid his picture being taken.

"My God, Ilya! That's fantastic. Those pieces you made look brilliant."

"Thank you. That's not all. I've been commissioned to make a necklace for a Saudi princess. I'm a bit conflicted about that but I'm going to do it."

Julien pulled him into his arms. "Did they want to photograph you for the article?"

"I said no. I won't risk it. I don't mind. I want anonymous fame. Is there such a thing?"

Julien nuzzled his head. "Yes. Banksy's famous but no one knows what he looks like. Not generally anyway. But the more mysterious you appear to be, the more interesting and intriguing you become. By the way, I had a call today."

"Who from?"

"The French police."

Ilya swallowed hard. "Tell me Lors and Borsha are still in jail."

"Yes and no."

"What does that mean?"

"Borsha's dead. Stabbed to death."

Ilya sighed. "I know I shouldn't be happy but I am. I'm assuming his father found a way to get to him eventually."

"We should feel safe now. We know Lors' organisation disintegrated. He ran nothing from prison."

"That they know of, but he must have found a way to get at Borsha."

Julien nodded. "Probably."

"It's not just the Chechens that are a potential threat. My father has enemies. Especially after what happened with Arkady."

"Those enemies would go after your father first."

Ilya nodded, though he knew that wasn't necessarily true. His father had retrieved Arkady along with his possessions and money from St Petersburg and he'd got him out of Russia, though it had taken time.

But doing that had been more dangerous than retrieving Ilya. If his father was in danger, so was he, but Ilya would hide his fears and keep protecting Julien because he was Ilya's forever.

They touched their glasses together.

"To the best, most brilliant boyfriend in the world,"

Julien said.

"Finally, you admit it."

Ilya grinned.

They sat at the table, feet entwined, and Ilya forked up a mouthful of the potato and egg thing. Ugh. He chewed and swallowed and watched Julien.

"I don't like the way you're looking at me,"

Julien said. "Is this another thing for the bin?"

"Maybe. I don't know what I did wrong."

Julien ate one mouthful and went in for another. "It's not too bad. Maybe the potatoes could have done with cooking for longer, and the eggs not as long, but it's edible."

Ilya smiled. "Now you're being the best boyfriend in the world."

He took another mouthful of the thing.

"Want to try for best husband?"

Ilya's throat closed up at the wrong moment. He began to cough and he couldn't stop. A moment later, Julien had hauled him to his feet, pulled Ilya's back to his chest and was driving his clenched fists in just under his rib cage.

Ilya coughed up the lump of potato and egg and Julien turned him around in his arms.

"You okay?"

Ilya was breathing heavily. "Uh huh."

He took the champagne that Julien held out and drank. That's better. Then he sat down again.

"Like I've never had to do that before,"

Julien said. "You're making a habit of it."

Ilya coughed. "I'm not sure I want that to be the moment we remember when you asked me to marry you. You thumping me in the chest."

"I think it was perfect. Or it would be if you gave me an answer."

Julien got down on one knee by Ilya's side. "My fantastic, brilliant boyfriend, will you marry me?" He took hold of Ilya's hand and held his other hand behind his back.

"You're my hero,"

Ilya whispered. "You've rescued me yet again. How can I possibly not marry you,"

Julien brought his other hand round and put the most enormous plastic pink ring onto Ilya's finger. "It lights up."

"Wow. That's a yes, then!"

"Only because it lights up?"

Ilya whined. "But look, it's so pretty."

He stood and pulled Julien to his feet.

"I thought you might like to make us two rings,"

Julien said.

"I suppose I could give you a discount. Five percent?"

Julien laughed and kissed him.

The End