Summary:

“Don’t they still hurt, Ilya? “I should not. I can hurt—” “What about here? You have fed from here before,” Shane asks, a mischievous look in his eyes, as he brings Ilya’s hand up to rest on the outer part of his shoulder. Fed, God, it makes him feel like a child that needs to be taken care of. Lazy, cannot even catch his own food— “Let me help,” Shane whispers, “Let me keep them warm as well.” OR: the vampire ilya smut no one asked for, ft human shane inventing the concept of fang- warming.