Where I Begin Again

by beyondwords | E | 10.7K | Shane/Ilya

He could've stayed with the Metros, the team he'd given everything to. But it was Ilya he chose. Everything after that wasn't simple. He needed a cigarette.

Feeding, Wanting You

by beyondwords | E | 14K | Shane/Ilya

“You have a lot on your mind,” Ilya said, voice cutting through as he kept his eyes focused on the road. The landscape had changed. The buildings began to appear as they entered the city. 

Shane’s eyes glance at him, away from the window. “Is it that obvious?” he asked, attempting to sound casual, though the tension in his voice gave him away.

“You have this look on your face,” Ilya turned down a small street, cars parked on both sides. “All pinched up. Like you just remembered you left the stove on and filed your taxes wrong at the same time.” He pulls into an empty parking spot. “It’s a very specific look.”

“Now you’re just exaggerating.”

“Am not.”

“Am too!”

“Hmmm.” Ilya has a mocking expression on his face. “Am not"

“Okay, I’m not doing this.” Shane huffs out, opening the car door and stepping out onto the sidewalk, slamming it shut.

“Hey, easy,” Ilya called, climbing out after him with immediate offense in his voice, throwing his hands up in the air. “Do you know how expensive she is?” His gaze was steady on Shane, unimpressed. “And I definitely don’t need some bratty star athlete scratching her up because he can't admit to being wrong.”

Shane shoots a sharp, glaring look at Ilya. “You’re calling your car a woman? Isn’t that, like, offensive?” 

Ilya snorted. “If the car were a man, it would refuse to admit anything was wrong until smoke started coming out.” He looks Shane up and down. “Like you.” 

Deciding he was done with this argument, Shane started walking away, making his way to the bar on the corner. He heard Ilya’s steps behind him as he tried to catch up to him. As he opened the door and walked into the empty bar, there was a noticeable and stark difference from the night before. Quiet, with no one in there besides a woman wiping down a high top table, the same one talking to Ilya from last night. 

She doesn’t look up, and she continues wiping down the table. Her casual look didn’t take away from her beauty, leggings and a plain black shirt, with little makeup on.