Summary:

When Shane finally opened the door to his apartment, he was greeted by a loud, teasing voice that made him grimace. “There he is. Shane Hollander, good guy turned bad.” He shot a sharp glare. “Shut the fuck up,” he muttered, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his jacket before heading toward Ilya. “No, never,” Ilya grinned mischievously. “This has been my wet dream for so long.” Shane looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Me fighting Hunter is your wet dream? Gross.” Ilya towered over him, thumb tracing Shane’s freckles as he stepped closer. “Just you fighting. Would’ve preferred it was me.”