Summary:

“You want to fix things, Hollander?” Ilya murmurs, riding the first wave of confidence he’s managed to find in weeks. “Maybe you show him what I was missing while you were busy being scared. Why going without it made me into something so terrible.”

When Ilya’s grip slackens, Shane turns inside of it just enough to align their faces. Temple to temple, hot breath between their mouths. Close enough to count the stars again.

“Ilya…” he whispers, clinging. "I—I need you."

“You always have,” Ilya allows himself a small, genuine smile. “Will you prove it, Shane?”