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Ilya stormed into his apartment, slamming the door behind him. His chest was heaving—but not from exertion or tears. God, he almost wished he would cry. Maybe then that heavy fucking feeling would leave his chest and his throat and his body and his
soul.
Ilya beelined straight for the bathroom, the floor-to-ceiling windows nothing but a blur. He stripped immediately, only bothering with the first three buttons on his shirt before wrenching it off his body, followed by his pants, briefs, socks, and shoes.
He stared down at the pooled clothing.
Well, it made sense. Shane would rather fucking die than leave his own clothes in a mess like this. Because, Ilya—well, Ilya is a mess. Messed up and broken and stomped on, and how could he even entertain the fucking idea that he and Shane could become something? That Shane would want him for something more than a body to fuck with?
He swung open the glass shower door and turned the lever on full heat, not bothering to cringe away from the cold water.
Shane found someone he could dance with, and kiss, and fuck. He looked so stupid, standing there with his drink in hand as if it wasn’t his own fault that Ilya had found someone else to kiss.
He looked so beautiful, and Ilya is so messed up.
The water heated until steam rose from it in white puffs. Ilya wrapped a hand around himself, stroking slowly.
Ilya would have kissed Shane better than Rose Landry. Ilya would have pressed him up against a wall and kissed him how he likes it—hot and wet and open and filthy. Ilya would have fucked Shane better than any other person in the fucking world.
His hand sped up. And Shane, oh, Shane, are you over me, Shane? You said I’m perfect, but that was just for my body. I’m jerking off to you—probably while you fuck your girlfriend—and it’s messed up.
You messed me up, Shane. Why do you keep leaving me?
Ilya braced a hand against the glass, close already.
I’m not over you, Shane.
He came hard over his hand, shuddering as he slowed to a stop. Ilya rinsed off the remnants of his release and watched it slip down the drain.
Are you over me?