Summary:

Ilya swallows thickly and slowly drags his eyes up to meet Shane’s. “I hurt you. You are bleeding.”

Ilya’s body suddenly feels heavy. He knows it’s his fault. Nothing Shane says will convince him otherwise. Shane may have insisted that it was fine―that Ilya didn’t need to take the time opening him up like he usually did. He’d seemed eager for it too.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Shane says casually. “I’ll do laundry later. It’ll be okay.”

“I don’t care―” Ilya can’t help but say it harshly, “―about the fucking laundry. I care that I hurt you.”