supplanterer



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    “Ilya,” he breathes into Shane's open, slightly panting mouth. Shane jostles their position, pointing his thumb at his own chest in an exaggerated manner.

    “Shane,” he replies. Quietly, like it's a request, not a statement. Ilya's eyes gentle, and he kisses Shane's nose.

    “Shane.”

    Or: another "Shane stays post-tuna melt scene" fic.

    Language:
    English
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    01 Feb 2026