3 Works by EithneFriel
Listing Works
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Summary
If Ilya was hurt, Shane would be the last one to find anything out, because on paper, they were nothing to each other. Less than nothing. Officially, they hated each other.
The thought of Ilya in that position—trapped on the other side of a locked hospital door, frantic, blind, and treated like an intrusive stranger—made his stomach twist with a violent wave of unease.
He couldn’t do that to him. He wouldn't.
OR
In a moment of impulsivity, Shane makes Ilya his legal healthcare proxy. When he's injured in the infamous Boston game, it takes everyone (including Ilya) by surprise.
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Summary
A buzz on his nightstand interrupted Ilya’s train of thought. He reached for his phone, squinting at the brightness of the screen in the dim room. “We didn’t even kiss” Ilya’s stomach dropped as he read and reread the message. The cigarette, still unit, fell from his mouth and into his lap.
Had he been so caught up in his own head he’d neglected Shane? Things had been different tonight. He knew that. Ilya had kept Shane at arms’ length, trying his best not to let on how badly he needed him. But still, he’d thought it was good enough for the both of them. Was he so blind he couldn’t see what Shane needed from him?
What if he’d crossed a line? What if Shane felt like he’d been used up and thrown away? Like he was something disposable not even worthy of a kiss. The thought made Ilya feel sick, his stomach churning and his head spinning. Before he could even think about what he was doing, Ilya had already pressed a trembling finger to the call button and brought the phone to his ear.
OR
Post-Vegas hookup, Shane sends the 'we didn't even kiss' text and Ilya freaks out.
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