Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Heated Rivalry (TV)

Relationship:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Character:

Shane Hollander

Additional Tags:

Come Swallowing, Come Eating, Masturbation, Come Slut Shane Hollander, Drinking Come from a Condom, Shame, Freaky Shane hollander

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2025-12-06 Words: 1,830 Chapters: 1/1

I Still Taste You After You've Left

Summary

It’s exactly three minutes after Ilya leaves Shane’s condo that Shane is in the bathroom, putting toothpaste on his toothbrush, when his eyes spot it. He hasn’t been back here in a month, which means the waste bin is empty, save for the white trash bag, and the condom Ilya had tied off and discarded in it.

No. He isn’t going to untie the condom and swallow down what’s inside. That’s a crazy thing to do. It’s a crazy thing to think, even, so he shakes his head, as if doing so will dislodge the thought.

---

Shane drinks Ilya's cum from a used condom and feels a lot of things about it.

Notes

Um. This is exactly what I said it is. I do think Shane would approach this scientifically.

Enjoy.

It’s exactly three minutes after Ilya leaves Shane’s condo that Shane is in the bathroom, putting toothpaste on his toothbrush, when his eyes spot it. He hasn’t been back here in a month, which means the waste bin is empty, save for the white trash bag, and the condom Ilya had tied off and discarded in it. 

 

Once the thought enters Shane’s head, it’s kind of hard to shake. It’s gross. He knows this. Swallowing it right from the source is one thing. Even that isn’t something Shane’s been ready to try, so he has no idea why this is stuck in his head. This wouldn’t even be for anyone. It’s not like he can tell Ilya about it after, and it’s not like Ilya is here to watch. No, this would be for no one but himself.

 

He sets his toothbrush down and stares at the waste bin, feeling increasingly delirious. It’s probably cold by now, which isn’t appealing. It’s also going to taste like latex. Shane thinks about the time or two he’s been too lazy after jerking off to clean up immediately, and how he’d let it cool on his skin, the way it had coagulated almost. It’s disgusting. 

 

No. He isn’t going to untie the condom and swallow down what’s inside. That’s a crazy thing to do. It’s a crazy thing to think, even, so he shakes his head, as if doing so will dislodge the thought. 

 

He does, however, tie up the garbage bag with its one singular item inside, and bring it all the way downstairs, and toss it in the outside bins. Just to rid himself of the temptation. Fuck. 

 

-

 

It’s three entire months later that he finds himself in the same position. Ilya had only had two hours from the time he’d walked into Shane’s condo and shoved him up against a wall, until the time he had left with nothing but a “Goodnight, Hollander,” and another tied off condom in the waste bin, the only evidence he’d even been there.

 

“This is crazy,” Hollander says out loud to himself in the mirror. He half expects his own reflection to agree with him, nod along, tell him it is, indeed, crazy.

 

His reflection simply stares back at him. Mocking. 

 

It’s not like anyone would know. So sure, it’s not for anyone, but isn’t that better, in a way? It would be his secret, he’s weird little indulgence. And if he hates it, then he’s standing right over the sink, and he can spit it out immediately and brush his teeth. 

 

Is it so weird? People swallow cum. Ilya does. Shane think, at some point, he’d like to. It’s just that now that they’ve escalated to fucking instead of blow jobs, that’s been their preferred method to get off, especially with how infrequently they see each other. Sure, he’d like a night that isn’t’ rushed, a night where they have hours and Ilya can fuck him and they can blow each other in one night. Maybe then he’d try swallowing, or, at least, he could take it in his mouth before spitting. Ilya would probably laugh at him, tease him for not being able to handle it. It would be another competition, and he'd lose. 

 

Shane isn’t like, germaphobic. It’s just. Bodily fluids are gross, right? Usually. Ilya doesn’t act like it’s gross. Ilya acts like it’s a delicacy, moaning as the taste hits his tongue, swallowing with a groan, and licking his lips after. Once or twice he's kissed Shane right after, and he's made a face. "What?" Ilya had said once. "It's your own." 

 

Maybe this is a good time to try it. The first time he’d tried an oyster, he was in front of people, and it went disastrously. He was midway through swallowing it, when the texture just got to him too much and he’d ended up gagging and spitting it into a napkin in front of his parents. It had been mortifying. 

 

Not that his parents would be there for this. It’s just, he doesn’t want to completely embarrass himself in front of Ilya. This is… scientific. It’s a test in a controlled environment without other variables. And if he likes this, after it’s cooled and tinged with the taste of latex, then surely he’ll like it right from the source, right? 

 

He also has a nagging thought that he misses Ilya. Ilya left not two minutes ago, and he misses him. It’ll be three weeks before they’re in the same vicinity again, and anything to shorten that amount of time appeals to Shane. If he can taste Ilya again, swallow him down, let him linger on his tongue, then it’ll be three weeks minus five minutes, give or take, since he’s felt Ilya, tasted Ilya, and that seems monumental. 

 

Shane is still naked. He hadn’t gotten dressed after Ilya had left, and now it’s just him, in his bathroom, staring at the condom. 

 

Fuck. He bends over to pick it up, and he looks at it over the sink.

 

Yep. There’s cum in there. It’s slightly slick and a little sticky on the outside from lube. But he’s not going to taste the outside. 

 

He avoids looking at his reflection in the mirror as he unties it. It’s not the easiest thing in the world, but it’s a loose enough knot that Shane gets it undone. This is gross. It is. Like, even the part of him that thinks this is hot, because it’s Ilya’s cum from when he was literally fucking Shane minutes ago, knows that this is gross. He tilts the condom and watches as the cum moves inside of it, pooling toward the lowest point of it where Shane has it angled over the sink.

 

Is he actually going to do this? 

 

Lifting the condom up, still angled down so the cum is near the opening, seems to answer that. Yes. He is going to pour Ilya’s cum into his mouth. His lips parting solidifies this answer, as he brings the condom up above his mouth. He’s got both hands on it, one holding the end of it up so it stays pooled near the opening, and the other holding the opening so he can decide when to release it.

 

It’s not going to get any better the longer he waits. He angles the opening down, and the first drops of it hit his upper lip. He can smell it first, slightly musky like his own, mixed with the smell of latex. He tips the opening up again so no more drips out, and he darts his tongue out to lick his upper lip.

 

It’s subtler than he’d thought. It’s a little salty, musky. It’s still wet, slick and shiny and not gross and clumpy like he’d worried about. Probably because it’s been wrapped up, cut off from oxygen. Why is he thinking about science right now? 

 

He tilts the opening down again, and he only means for another drop or two to come out, but it’s a little sticky and it moves together, the majority of it besides whatever residue is coating the inside of the condom falls into his open mouth, hitting his tongue.

 

It feels like a lot. He doesn’t swallow right away, because that would sort of defeat the purpose, and if this is the only chance he’s getting for who knows how long, he wants to make it last. He wants to get a solid opinion on it, not just a rushed ‘let’s get this over with’. 

 

He swirls it on his tongue, and hey, he isn’t gagging. He’s not spitting it out or choking on it. When he gets the courage to look at his reflection, he doesn’t even look disgusted by it. There’s still some on his upper lip, white and shiny, and his face is flushed. He looks… peaceful? And horny. His cock bobs against the lip of the sink. Okay. Definitely horny, then. He’d cum maybe ten minutes ago at this point, and he’s already hard again. 

 

It tastes… well. Not good, exactly. But it’s not bad. It tastes masculine. Is that a thing? It’s earthy and salty and musky. He’s tasted his own cum before. Once or twice. Not like, a full load, but a finger dragged through it and brought to his lips. Just because he wanted to know, especially before having a woman taste it, that it wasn’t awful. This is better than that. Even with the latex taste lingering, this is better. 

 

He moves it around in his mouth, his tongue pushing it to the side, and it’s warmer now, looser, spread out across his tongue and mouth. Fuck. He’s so hard. He feels dizzy and a little crazy. 

 

He opens his mouth then, sticks his tongue out, and looks at his reflection, the white cum now semi translucent, mixed with his own saliva. It’s getting to be a lot, and texturally, yeah, it is weird, so he swallows it down, a thick gulp, and his cock drips out pre-cum at the same time. Holy shit. Why was that so hot? More than the taste or the dirtiness of it or the image, more than anything, swallowing it is hot. Ilya’s cum is inside him, sliding down his throat, consumed by him, part of him. 

 

He wraps his hand around his cock and watches in the mirror as he jerks himself off, frantically and quickly. You're disgusting, his brain tells him. Fuck, yes. He is disgusting. It only eggs him on. His hand strips his cock, and it’s too dry, bordering on painful, but he cums hard and fast, right into the sink. 

 

He turns the water on and watches as his spend circles the drain and disappears, and then he tosses the, now lighter, condom back into the waste bin. 

 

He brushes his teeth once. Then a second time. He tries not to think. If he thinks, he might panic, so he doesn’t. He’s methodical, getting into the shower and washing any trace of what his body has done away. He soaps up his fingers and washes any remaining lube from his hole. He washes over every part of him Ilya’s mouth had touched. He scrubs himself until his skin feels raw, until there’s no trace of what he’s done. 

 

His cum is in your stomach, his brain reminds him.

 

He’ll never tell. He wants to. He wants to know what Ilya would think. What he’d say. How his face would look. Would he be disgusted? Would he think it’s pathetic? Would he think it’s hot?

 

[11:42 PM]

Next time I want to swallow your cum.

 

[11:44 PM]

Fuck, Hollander.

Yes. 

 

[11:45 PM]

Night

 

[11:45 PM]

Goodnight 😘

 

That’s enough for now. It’s all he has, so it has to be enough. Tomorrow he’ll throw out the empty condom and maybe he’ll feel disgusted with himself. Maybe he’ll jerk off about it for weeks. Who’s to say.