Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Heated Rivalry (TV)

Relationship:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov

Additional Tags:

Sexual Overstimulation, Dom/sub, Hand Jobs, Crying During Sex, Dacryphilia, Multiple Orgasms, Light CNC, Safeword Mentioned, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Soft Ilya Rozanov, Dom Ilya Rozanov, Sub Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov Loves Shane Hollander, Orgasm Edging, Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 01, Praise Kink

Language:

English

Series:

Part 2 of Kink at the Cottage (hollanov oneshots)

Stats:

Published: 2026-01-31 Words: 2,220 Chapters: 1/1

i’m a tidal wave comin’ for your grave

Summary

“You can give me another, can’t you?” Ilya says, his voice stickily sweet.

Ilya overstimulates Shane to tears, just how he wants.

Notes

Thank you so much to @internerdionality and @hopelessscribe for the beta! I appreciate y’all

Title from Bad Things by Cailin Russo

This is set post-canon, either at the cottage that summer or another year, it’s not specified so imagine whatever you like most. Technically in the same world as my other kink fic (in the series) but stands alone.

the russian pet name means puppy

“You can give me another, can’t you?” Ilya says, his voice stickily sweet. 

Ilya leans back against the pillows and headboard of the bed and holds Shane in his arms. Shane sits in the vee of Ilya’s legs, Ilya’s calves holding down his thighs. Ilya has remained clothed, while Shane is completely naked. One of Ilya’s arms brackets across his chest, while the other worms around his waist and is wrapped around his cock. He’d started off by gently jerking him off, hand wet with plenty of lube, stopping every time Shane got close. Shane had started whimpering three edges in, begging softly and then loudly to be allowed to come. So Ilya had let him.

But then he hadn’t stopped. He’d slowed his hand but continued jerking Shane off. Even when he’d started shaking from the overstimulation of it, Ilya kept going. 

“Please, stop, just for a second,” Shane whispers, but they’d decided beforehand that stop didn’t mean stop, and so Ilya just keeps moving. As much as Ilya wants to check in, he doesn’t, because that’s what this game is. Shane wanted this, wanted to be taken apart until he cries with it, until even more than that. Shane isn’t quite crying, as far as Ilya can tell from this angle, but he certainly seems desperate. He’s stopped shaking again, though. “It’s so much.” 

Ilya hums softly in the negative, and keeps his hand gently, slowly, wetly moving, helped along now by the first round of come — what of it that hadn’t landed on Shane’s bare stomach. Ilya has half a mind to swipe that up with his other hand and bring it to Shane’s lips, but he doesn’t want to mess with the angle. Besides, they hadn’t talked about that part.

“You once told me you could come two times in one hour,” Ilya says, no sympathy in his voice. “One more should be easy, then.”

Shane whimpers softly. “I meant with a break between!” he complains, then lets out a harsh whine as Ilya shifts from pumping his hand to instead cupping it in a fist around just the head of his cock, squeezing and moving his hand in circles. Shane’s cock is a beautiful flushed red, angry from too much sensation. Ilya can’t help but smile.

“Ah, you did not specify,” he tuts. He knows this is what Shane wants — right now, at least. Not always. But right now Shane wants him to be a bit of an asshole, uncaring, unsympathetic. Ilya can do this, because it is what Shane wants. “How was I meant to know?”

Ilya keeps twisting his hand around the head, making sure he’s giving equal attention to every part, to the most sensitive areas just underneath the glans and at the slit. Shane drops his head back onto Ilya’s shoulder and gasps, letting his breath out shakily and breathing harshly from then on. His hips jump, and Ilya flexes his legs to keep Shane’s down.

“Too much,” Shane gasps, as Ilya keeps his focus on the head, then pumps the whole length a few times, and then rubs around the tip once more. Shane lets out warbling little moans and whines, absolutely gorgeous sounds. “Fuck, ‘m so close…”

“Already, mm?” Ilya asks, a bit of scorn in it. He returns to stroking Shane fully, long pumps of his hand with a twist near the top, speeding up steadily. “So needy. Maybe I just stop, what then?” As he does, he pauses with his fingers squeezing around the base of Shane’s cock.

Shane keens instantly, reaching down and gripping at Ilya’s arm, pulling at it. “Fuck!” he gasps. “Please, please, no, I need it!”

“Before you tell me stop, too much, now it’s please, more. How am I meant to know?” Ilya says, and he can’t help but take a bit of delight in teasing Shane so. Shane tugs desperately at his arm, trying to get him to move, but he tightens his muscles and makes sure he doesn’t budge until Shane’s orgasm is no longer imminent. “Fine, fine, I will continue.” He starts to stroke again, from the base to the tip and over it, his grip just this side of too tight.

“God,” Shane breathes, and he sounds drunk. “That was so mean…”

“Yes,” Ilya agrees. “And you like it.”

“Fucking hell,” Shane gets out, squirming under him. “Please let me, this time, I can’t take it anymore, I really can’t.”

Ilya hums as if undecided, though he knows he will probably give in and let Shane come without edging him another time. It has almost been enough torture, and his hand is starting to feel the effort of it, too. He would hate to have to stop because his hand is cramping.

“I think I might,” he agrees, after letting Shane wonder for a few short moments. “If you beg me very sweetly.” 

He twists his hand around the head for another few moments, and Shane trembles in his arms. Ilya needs to do this again with Shane facing him, because the worst torture of this has been that Ilya can’t watch Shane’s face.

Still, watching his cock is almost as enticing. It’s an even darker red now, the head shiny and the slit dribbling. Ilya had made sure things were very slick from the beginning, not wanting to chafe Shane’s dick, but now everything is so much more wet from the incessant leaking of his cock. 

Ilya’s own cock sits trapped between them, hard against Shane’s spine where he lays back. Ilya is reaching desperation of his own, but he can hold out, for as long as he needs to. He knows he won’t get to fuck Shane tonight, but that’s fine. He’ll probably come in a few short jerks of his hand after getting to experience this.

“Please!” Shane begs, his voice higher than Ilya’s heard it before. “Fuck, please, Ilya, please give it to me, please make me come again, I need it!”

Ilya hums again, smiling. He can tell Shane is close, but he wants to time it right. His hand moves faster, with that tight grip Shane so enjoys, and he feels desperate twitching under his fingers. 

“Come. Now.” The order is firm and Shane complies in moments, his body trembling, fingers digging into Ilya’s calves where his hands have dropped, his hips jerking up what little they can as he comes again, his cock spurting even more. “Good, good boy,” Ilya murmurs, turning his head to kiss Shane’s sweat-damp forehead as he holds him tight across the chest and over his legs. He slows the movement of his hand as Shane comes down from it, but doesn’t quite stop. He thinks he can go for a hat trick. “That was very good. I think you can give one more to me.”

Shane, who had been starting to almost relax, suddenly tightens up all at once. He shakes his head. “Please,” he says, half-slurring it. He sounds wrecked. “I don’t think I can…”

“I do,” Ilya says. “And you will.” He knows he can milk one more out of Shane, and he’s not going to stop unless Shane tells him to, properly. He listens for a safeword, but it doesn’t come. “I will not edge this time, I will not tease. Just one more and you will be done.”

Shane’s head lolls back against Ilya’s shoulder and he moans, desperate and breathless. “Gonna ruin me,” he breathes.

“Never,” Ilya says back, voice soft. He keeps his hand moving, wet and slow, not letting Shane’s cock soften like it wants to. He kisses the side of Shane’s head. “You are all mine. My good boy.”

“Fuck,” Shane mumbles, but he’s gone lax again, not so much relaxed as boneless and limp, his hands resting on Ilya’s legs. “Ilya.” He says it like he’s praying.

“I’m going to take care of you,” Ilya tells him. He knows Shane wanted more of a stern, uncaring Dom for this, but he can’t help himself. He wants Shane to tremble apart in his arms, and he wants him to feel loved doing so. “Let me give you another.”

Shane nods, a shiver running through his body. “Okay. Yeah. Please?”

Ilya moves his hand in slow, long motions, knowing this will be more pleasurable, just the right side of overwhelming for Shane. Shane lets out a long sigh, and Ilya’s hand moves to gently hold one of his pecs, a thumb coming up to stroke over one sensitive nipple. 

“Gimme kiss,” Ilya says, and Shane turns his head up enough that Ilya can lean forward and connect their lips. He brushes his mouth against Shane’s, not too strong or demanding, simply something to show he’s here. 

Shane’s cock is leaking again in his grasp, and he feels it twitch under his grip as he starts to move his hand a little faster again. 

Shane shifts a little, biting at his lip after he pulls away. Ilya needs to see him.

“Here,” Ilya says, not letting go of Shane’s cock but shifting Shane’s legs out from under his so he can turn him to the side. He gets both of Shane’s legs over one of his own, and wraps his arm around his shoulders so he can hold him up. This way, he can see Shane’s face, see how flushed it is and the little creases on his forehead as Ilya starts his hand moving properly again.

Shane looks up at him and lets out a little whimper. He’s so beautiful, tears on his face and spit on his lips. His eyes are big and wet and shining, desperation clear in them. Ilya wants him more than anything in the world. 

“Fuck, Ilya,” Shane breathes, putting his hands underneath him to keep himself up. Ilya wraps his arm more securely around his shoulders. He pumps at a solid pace, twisting his hand around the shining red tip of Shane’s cock. Shane whimpers and trembles in his arms. His eyes go unfocused, but stay on Ilya’s face, and Ilya watches him back, unable to look anywhere else. Anything could happen and in that moment it would not distract him, not when he has Shane’s deliciously tortured expression staring back at him. “Please,” Shane mumbles. “Please.” Ilya wonders if he even knows what it is he’s begging for at this point. More, or less. It doesn’t matter. Ilya will give him exactly what he wants.

“Just let me take care of you, ščenók,” Ilya says, dipping into his mother tongue for an appropriate pet name. He knows he sounds far too fond, but he can’t help himself. “Are you going to come again for me?”

Shane’s head slowly bobs up and down, as if it’s taking him a moment to parse the words. Tears run down his face uninhibited. “Please,” he says again. “Ilya, I need…”

“I know,” Ilya soothes as Shane trails off. “Come now, Shane.”

A few more pumps does it, with Shane’s back arching as he pushes up into Ilya’s hand. Ilya keeps up the same speed, rubs Shane’s cock as it jerks and spills watery onto his stomach. Shane pants in his arms, his eyes closed and his mouth open.  Ilya strokes him through it, but stops before he gets back into overstimulation.

“Am I done?” Shane asks in a small voice, and if they hadn’t done similar things before Ilya might be worried, but he knows by now this is just how Shane sounds when he’s feeling very satisfied. Ilya smiles down at him, nodding. 

“All done. You were very good for me,” Ilya murmurs, placing a gentle hand on Shane’s chest. It’s still damp, and Shane wiggles a little. Ilya withdraws it, not wanting to cause discomfort, not now. He worries, a little, that he went too far, that he was either too cruel or disappointing in his lack of ability to hold up the type of character Shane wanted him to be. “Was that good?” he asks, after letting Shane recover for a few more moments.

Shane nods, eyes slowly opening back up to look at him. “Very. Fuck. Brain gone.”

Reassured, Ilya leans back against the cushions and gently turns Shane again, letting him sit against him and relax. “Good. Let it be gone for a little while,” Ilya murmurs, kissing the top of Shane’s head.

“You didn’t get off?” Shane says, probably feeling Ilya’s cock against his back again. 

Ilya shrugs. “Not important. I will later.” Although obviously he’s still very horny, he doesn’t want to disturb Shane’s relaxation just for this. He knows these moments of brainlessness are what he needs, sometimes. Shane shifts a little, as if unconvinced. Ilya wraps his arms around him. “You relax. That’s an order.”

Shane laughs softly, and slowly eases back into him. Ilya continues to hold him, glad he can provide this for his lover.

“Thank you, Ilya,” Shane mumbles.

It’s his pleasure, to do this for Shane, to do this to him. Getting to see him so vulnerable is unlike anything Ilya has ever experienced, and it’s the most wonderful thing in the world. Shane is so beautiful when he cries. But Ilya doesn’t want to break the silence for any of his thoughts, so he just hums in response, and holds Shane close.