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Summary
He opened his eyes to see something that made his stomach clench. Shane was staring at him sweetly. His hair was a mess, sticking to his forehead and pure adoration was painted across his face. Ilya did what any self-respecting person would do if they had the chance to see Shane like this, completely fucked out and so soft.
He bit him. Hard.
Right on his inner thigh, mouth grazing the slight indent of stretch-marks. Shane gasped wetly, quickly lifting his head to look where Ilya was resting between his legs.
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5+1. Ilya worships Shane the only way he knows how. Like a fucking dog.