Work Text:
“Make me,” Shane snaps in the same adorably belligerent tone, with the same smirk, and with the same desire burning behind it, as when he says, Bite me (an invitation and a challenge that Ilya is always happy to fulfill).
Ilya inclines his head only slightly, but holds Shane’s gaze and reaches for his mind, and a second later, Shane drops to his knees in front of Ilya’s chair.
Shane growls, “Fuck you,” but his thoughts turn to all of the interesting things that Ilya could make him do from his current position, and his heart beats more rapidly still.
