Summary:

Shane kisses the soft green-blue veins beneath the pale skin of his wrist. Feels the flicker of Ilya’s pulse against his lips, steady like the wings of a butterfly. He tastes like salt and skin, and something else just beneath the surface. Something sweet and delicate. A gentle, hidden thing - something the rest of the world doesn’t get to see. They get thrown punches, and bruised knuckles, and hissed warnings. Shane gets this.