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“Hi,” Ilya says, wrapping his arms around Shane's torso as he hugs him from behind.
“Hi yourself,” Shane mumbles, trying to focus on plating the scrambled eggs he was cooking. He smiles as his boyfriend presses a kiss to the underside of his jaw.
Ilya lets him put the pan back on the stove before turning Shane around to face him.
“What?” Shane asks.
Ilya kisses him again, quickly on the mouth this time, before looking at him with a cautious glance.
“Can I ask you something?”
Shane frowns. “Of course.”
Ilya swallows. “And you're allowed to say no. I just…” he trails off, pursing his lips.
“Hey,” Shane says, cupping Ilya's jaw and thumbing affectionately as his cheek. “You can always ask me anything.”
Ilya is silent for a moment before seemingly finding his courage, and nods.
“I was thinking, maybe, you could start taking a… supplement.” Ilya explains, slowly.
Shane tilts his head. “What, like, a nutritional supplement? I mean, I already have a lot of stuff in my routine, you know I–”
“No, is different,” Ilya interrupts. “Not for workout or anything.”
“Oh. Okay.” Shane waits for more, but Ilya stays silent. “Then… what is it?”
Ilya rubs a hand up and down Shane's bicep, like he needs the touch to stay grounded. Shane frowns again, trying to meet Ilya's eyes, but his gaze is turned downward.
“Ilya,” he tries, softer than he usually says it. Ilya stops his movement, carefully glancing back up to Shane.
He inhales and says, “It would be for breasts.”
Shane just stares at him. “Breasts?”
Ilya nods slowly, like Shane is a wild animal that might spook if he makes any sudden movements.
“Yes, they are supplement for growing breasts. Is temporary. For sex, mostly.”
Shane is slowly catching on.
“You want me to grow… breasts?” The last word comes out in a breathy stutter.
Ilya nods again, more intentional this time. “Da, yes.” He leans in and kisses Shane's cheek. “We are here, alone at the cottage for a few weeks. Would just be while we are here. To have a little fun.”
Shane pulls back to look Ilya in the eyes again. He feels a bolt of shame and worry zip through him.
“Is– Am I not… doing enough for you?” he asks, his voice small.
Horror washes over Ilya's face and he immediately shakes his head.
“No, Shane. No. You are perfect. I just thought it would be fun. We do not have to if you are not wanting it.”
Shane bites his lip, frowning into the distance.
Ilya draws a kiss from his lips and gives his face a quick pat. “No worries, lyubimiy. It was just an idea.”
He goes to turn away, going to focus on their quickly-cooling breakfast when Shane grabs at his wrist.
“Wait.”
Ilya looks back at him, eyes widening slightly in hope.
Shane swallows. “You said it– that it's completely temporary, right?”
“Yes,” Ilya breathes.
They stare at each other for a moment, tension buzzing between them.
“Okay,” Shane finally relents. “Okay, I'll do it.”
A silly grin flutters across Ilya's face. “Yes?”
Shane nods. “Yeah.”
Ilya grabs Shane's face in both hands and aggressively kisses him on the nose. Shane laughs, trying to bat him away.
“Alright, alright,” he says. “Eggs are getting cold.”
-
Shane sits on the edge of the bed as Ilya leans up against the doorframe to the connecting bathroom.
“And you're sure this is reversible?” Shane asks, eyeing the bottle of pills in Ilya's hand suspiciously.
“Yes, Shane. They are specifically for this. Fun, sexy times. Are not supposed to be taken long-term.”
Shane still looks doubtful, but he nods.
“Okay. So, what? You just take one and…” he trails off.
Ilya chuckles. “No, it takes a few days.” He peers at the instructions on the bottle. “Two pills per day, for five days. Then results will show. Keep taking one pill a day to keep results. Do not use for more than seven days after results show. Blah blah blah, changes will revert after five days of not taking supplement.”
Shane's face is still pinched. “That… sounds like a lot.”
Ilya looks over to him. “I will keep track of everything. Promise.”
Shane worries his bottom lip between his teeth, but lets out a sigh. “Okay. I trust you.”
Ilya smiles, coming over to grasp Shane's chin between his fingers. He tilts his head so Shane is looking up at him.
“Ya tebya lyublyu,” Ilya says, and Shane melts into his touch.
“I love you, too,” he says softly.
Ilya shakes out two pills from the container and presses them onto Shane's tongue, passing him a glass of water from the side table.
Shane dutifully swallows them down, trying desperately to ignore the pounding of his heart in his chest.
He’s normally so in tune with what his body is doing. What exercises he needs to hit, the macronutrients he needs to eat. Shane Hollander treats his body like a well-oiled machine.
But he's always allowed Ilya to take some of that control away. And this is no different. Surrendering the physical makeup of his body for Ilya's pleasure makes Shane squirm with fear and pride.
He almost expects something to happen right away, but of course nothing does. The supplement needs its time to work, after all.
Ilya pats his cheek. “Good boy.”
Shane lets out a shaky exhale, which is only partially because of the nerves, and nods.
“So, now we wait?”
Ilya nods back. “Now we wait.”
-
The next couple days are nothing special, either. Ilya gives Shane his two pills during his breakfast, and he waits and waits for something to happen.
On the third day he feels a slight pressure behind his pecs, but there’s nothing outwardly apparent that any changes are taking place.
On the fourth, Ilya kisses him after he swallows the pills, a hungry look in his eyes.
“Soon,” he whispers, and Shane both cannot wait and is simultaneously dreading tomorrow.
-
Shane wakes up on the fifth day and is immediately aware of the weight on his chest.
He looks down and sees them. Two perky breasts, sitting atop his torso. They're not very big, but they are clearly more than just the muscular pectorals he normally has.
He has to stifle the shocked noise that tries to escape his lips. He doesn't want to wake Ilya quite yet. He needs a moment to come to terms with the fact that this is currently his life.
He's in bed with his boyfriend, sporting a newly acquired pair of breasts, because said boyfriend has been giving him sex drugs on the daily.
He carefully extracts himself from the bed and stumbles to the bathroom, closing the door quietly and turning to face the mirror.
He simply stares at his reflection. Now that he's not laying down, gravity is affecting the weight slightly differently. He can feel the downward pull of the tissue, can feel them sway as he takes a step closer to the sink.
His breath comes out kind of shaky.
He slowly raises a hand and cups his left breast, palming at the softness. He inhales sharply at the sensation that shoots through him. They're extremely sensitive, especially his nipples that are currently hard, little buds.
He's startled by the bathroom door opening, twisting to come face to face with his boyfriend.
Ilya's eyes widen as they land on Shane's chest.
“Oh,” is all he says.
Shane can feel a flush consume his face. He instinctively tries to cross his arms, but his fucking breasts are in the way and he ends up just squishing them together before giving up and letting his hands drop back down to his sides.
“No, no, no,” Ilya says, reaching forward as if caught in a trance. “Do not try to hide. Shane. You are…”
Shane clenches his hands into fists. “Ilya…”
Ilya shakes his head, mouth agape. “You are beautiful.”
Shane's heartbeat stutters at the words.
“I–” he starts, but suddenly he feels a pressure in his chest, hot and fluttery. He grips the bathroom counter with one hand, his other landing on Ilya's arm as he steps closer.
“Shane? What is it?” Ilya's eyes are full of concern.
“I think– Oh God, I think they're growing,” he groans, looking down at his chest and watching in horror as his breasts begin to swell.
“Fuck, Oh my God, Ilya, I–” he stutters, gripping onto his boyfriend as pain and pleasure explode through him. He snaps his eyes shut, not able to watch anymore as his flesh expands ever so slightly.
“You are okay, Shane, I'm right here,” Ilya tries, rubbing a soothing hand down his back. His presence is strong, but his voice comes out slightly strangled.
“Mhhm, fuck,” Shane moans loudly, his skin buzzing with energy. He's never felt anything quite like this in his life. The pain is overpowered by the shockwaves of arousal, and he feels his dick start to swell as well.
He's panting and clinging onto Ilya and his breasts are growing and it's almost too much.
Ilya's voice brings him back to the present. “You're doing so well, Shane.”
His breasts give one final swell before the warmth recedes into his chest.
His breathing is harsh, sweat beading along his hairline as he finally opens his eyes and glances down.
He doesn't know much about bra sizes, but his breasts are definitely larger than they were when he first woke up.
“Holy shit,” he breathes, looking up at his boyfriend.
And Ilya looks mesmerized, staring with wide eyes at Shane's tits. There's already an obvious bulge in his own boxers, and his breathing seems just as erratic.
“Shane,” he whispers, reaching out a hand. He stops before he makes contact. “Can I?”
Shane swallows and nods. “Yes.” Then he adds, “Please”, because he thinks if he doesn't get Ilya's hands on him right now, he may die in this bathroom.
Ilya wastes no time, grasping gently at his tit and Shane has to bite his tongue in an attempt to stifle a moan. He doesn't fully succeed, a small whimper tumbling past his lips.
“No, no. Let me hear you,” Ilya says, and grabs at Shane's other breast, gently squeezing both. Shane can't contain the noise that rips out of him, arching into Ilya’s touch.
“Fuck. Fuck, oh my– Fuck,” Shane mumbles unintelligibly.
“So fucking good, Shane. Look at you,” Ilya whispers, kissing into his neck as he continues to touch and squeeze.
“Bed. Now,” Shane barely manages to get out, his voice high and strangled. Ilya is quick to comply, manhandling Shane out of the bathroom and pushing him back onto the bed.
Shane's breasts jiggle as he flops down, and Ilya's eyes light up as he crawls towards him. A predator with sights on his prey.
Ilya presses kisses along Shane's thigh, hip, stomach, until he finally reaches his chest. He grins deviously as he lets his tongue drag across Shane's nipple, keeping eye contact as he does so.
“Ohmygod, Ilya, you have to– I can't–” Shane mutters, his cock red and leaking between them.
His chest has always been a favourite of Ilya's, to squeeze and grab at, but it's never been the sole cause of an orgasm for Shane. They're so incredibly sensitive now, though, in their engorged state, that any touch sends pulses straight to his dick.
Ilya pulls off, pushing back so his arms are caged around Shane.
“Too much, yes? It feels good?”
Shane nods frantically. “Yes. Yes, it feels good.”
Ilya dips his head to lick into Shane's mouth. He continues to talk between the kisses.
“You like this, da? You like your new breasts. So big, so beautiful. Just for me. You did this just for me, didn't you? Changing your body for my pleasure.”
He gives Shane's cock a light stroke, causing Shane to arch into his hand.
“Yes, fuck,” he pants. “All for you. I did this all for you.”
Ilya presses his lips to Shane's sternum, right between his breasts.
“So good to me, malysh. Look at you,” Ilya whispers with reverence, like Shane is some holy thing that he has been blessed with.
The worship makes Shane let out a small, incredulous laugh.
“You– you like my tits, Rozanov?” he tries, stuttering slightly through the chirp, but he sees a spark ignite in Ilya’s eyes.
He licks his lips. “Mm, very much so.”
He quickly pinches one of Shane's nipples, causing him to buck his hips involuntarily.
“Fuck, you asshole,” Shane says, trying to breathe through the arousal.
“How about I fuck your asshole? I want you to ride me, Hollander. Want to watch your tits bounce as you take my cock.”
And the image of that causes Shane's dick to twitch. “Holy shit,” he mumbles.
“Yes?” Ilya asks.
“Yes.”
After some quick preparation and a condom and lube, Ilya is maneuvering them so Shane is above, slowly sinking down onto Ilya's cock.
“Fuck, Shane,” Ilya groans as he gets settled. He's looking up at Shane with heavy-lidded eyes, mouth slightly parted. His eyes flick down to his chest, and Shane takes that as his cue to start rolling his hips.
They both begin panting and moaning, muttering expletives as their arousal mounts within them.
Shane's tits are bouncing along with him, and Ilya frantically starts grabbing at them.
“So good, Shane–”
“Ilya, I'm gonna–”
“Yes, yes. Come for me–”
Ilya gives a sharp squeeze, and the white tsunami of pleasure overtakes Shane. He faintly hears Ilya coming over the edge, too, can feel the pressure inside of him, and soon they are folded together, Shane's breasts pressed against Ilya as they try to catch their breaths.
Ilya whispers something in Russian as he strokes affectionately at the back of Shane's head.
“What's that?” Shane asks, still floating in the aftermath.
“You're incredible,” he says, and Shane hides a smile in Ilya’s shoulder.
-
Learning to live with his new assets takes a bit of getting used to. He's not quite sure what to do when he tries to complete one of his morning workouts and his breasts will not stop bouncing.
He knows women wear bras to help. Like, special sports bras, he thinks. But he doesn't have one, of course, and like hell he's driving an hour outside the cottage to be seen in public with tits.
He could picture the articles about it already. He shudders.
He settles for doing some yoga, the minimal movements making it less awkward. It's not until he's doing a downward dog pose where his breasts start pushing up towards his face that he gets flustered and calls it quits altogether.
He walks into their bedroom to find Ilya freshly dressed, just having finished his shower. He must sense Shane's frustration, or sees it written on his face.
“What's wrong, sweetheart?”
Shane rubs a shaky hand across his face. “These stupid things are getting in the way,” he says miserably.
Ilya makes his way over to Shane, settling a grounding hand on the back of his neck.
“My poor kotenok. But don't call them stupid, Hollander. They're beautiful.” He gives a quick peck to Shane's lips. “You are just not used to them yet.”
“I can't even go for a run.”
Ilya is quiet for a moment, before rubbing his hand across Shane's shoulders. “Okay. So we get you bra.”
Shane can feel the warmth on his face. “Ilya, I can't go out in public like this,” he growls.
“Do not worry,” Ilya says, slightly exasperated. “I will go pick one up, yes?”
Shane blinks. “But… don't we need to know, like, my size or something?”
Ilya's eyes roam over Shane's chest. “Seems pretty big to me.”
He punches Ilya in the shoulder. “I'm serious!”
“Okay, okay. We can measure you here, and then I will go pick out right size. Sound good?”
Shane wants to argue, but he would really like something, anything, to keep his breasts in place so he can actually do things.
“Yeah, okay,” he relents.
They end up having to look up chest measurements and bra sizes on their phones, having no prior experience shopping for this item of clothing. They determine his probable cup and band size, and then Ilya is getting in the Jeep and driving down the gravel pathway towards the nearest store.
Shane sits and waits anxiously, trying to put on an old game to take his mind off things. He finds he's barely paying attention.
A little while later he hears a vehicle approach the cottage and almost has a heart attack thinking it might be his parents, or someone else. But thankfully it's just Ilya, back with what he promised.
He pulls out two items from the bag he's holding, one regular looking bra and what Shane assumes is a sports one.
The sports bra is just a plain dark grey, stretchy material. But as Shane looks closer at the other bra, he sees it's white with a bit of lace across the cups and straps.
Shane glares at the offending fabric. “Ilya…”
“What? I thought it looked pretty. Pretty bra for pretty boyfriend.” His eyes are sparkling.
Shane snatches the sports bra from his grip and turns to the bedroom.
“Oh, come on, Hollander! I picked it out just for you!”
“Not happening!” Shane calls back.
-
The next afternoon, Shane panics.
“What am I supposed to do? I can't go over to my parents house like his,” he cries, running a frustrated hand through his hair. In his other hand, his phone is opened to the family group chat, where his mother is offering to have the boys over that evening for dinner.
His C-cup breasts are on full display, both he and Ilya shirtless after a slow and eventful morning.
He knows nothing will be able to hide them. Even if he were to throw on multiple sweaters, the lumps would be noticeable, and he would also be questioned for his less-than-appropriate summer attire.
“Hey, hey, is okay,” Ilya shushes, gently taking the phone out of Shane's death grip. He closes it and sets it on the coffee table.
“We can say that you are sick. Or that I am sick. We put off for few days, let the pills wear off. We are fine.”
Shane shakes his head. “My mom will definitely come over if we say we're sick. She always hovers whenever I catch something.”
“Okay, so we say we are busy and will come over when we are free.”
A scoff. “Ilya, she's going to think we're having, like, marathon sex or something.”
Ilya smirks. “Ah, is good idea.”
Shane smacks his chest without any heat. His boyfriend's antics are already helping to reduce the anxiety.
“Shut up.”
“No,” Ilya says, giving him a peck on the cheek. He pulls Shane until they are sitting on the couch, Ilya underneath and Shane straddling his lap. They share a few more kisses before Ilya starts again. “Maybe we just… tell her the truth?”
Shane leans back, eyes wide. “What?”
Ilya shrugs one shoulder. “Maybe she has old bra you can use.”
“Oh my fucking God,” Shane mutters, shoving at Ilya and moving to stand up.
“I am serious!” Ilya exclaims, holding onto Shane's wrists and keeping him seated. “About telling them, at least. We can say we are just trying something.”
“I am not telling my parents I let you talk me into growing breasts.”
Ilya pulls Shane back into his orbit, settling his two hands on Shane's tits. Shane inhales sharply at the touch.
“But you are so good to me, solnyshko. Your body grew these for us to enjoy. Should not have to hide such wonderful thing.”
He gives a squeeze, and a quiet moan escapes Shane's lips.
“Ilya,” Shane whispers, a warning.
“What?” Ilya says innocently.
“I'm not– I can't show my parents,” he begs, shaking his head.
Ilya clicks his tongue. “Ah, but what if I want to show you off? Everyone deserves to see your hard work.”
Shane just shakes his head again, words stuck in his mouth as the blood rushes from his brain to his cock.
Ilya continues his massaging. “What else would you do for me, Hollander?”
Shane swallows. “A-anything,” he pants.
“Anything?” Ilya asks, raising an eyebrow, but his slight smirk betrays the fact that he's not surprised.
Nodding, Shane kisses frantically at his boyfriend's mouth. “Yes. Anything, Ilya, I–”
“Yes,” Ilya groans, and Shane can see the bulge growing inside Ilya's sweats. “You would do whatever I ask, wouldn't you? Because you are so perfect, Shane. So good.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Shane babbles. He starts rolling his hips, searching frantically for any friction.
“Fuck, Hollander,” Ilya growls, pulling both Shane and himself out of their pants and letting their erections slide against one another. Ilya keeps one hand on Shane's left tit, while dropping the other to stroke over the both of them.
“Oh, Oh my God, Ilya…” Shane whines, arching into the man below him. His whole body feels like it's on fire.
They last a few more seconds before they're coming together, a mess spilling out between them.
Shane collapses into Ilya’s neck, inhaling the sweaty scent. “Fuck,” he exhales into the warm skin.
Ilya chuckles underneath him. He kisses the side of Shane's face and pats his thigh. “We go get cleaned up now, yes? And then we go to your parents for dinner.”
Shane pulls away, the anxiety of their conversation returning like the ocean’s tide.
“Ilya, I– I can't.”
Ilya grips the bottom of Shane's face with one hand, squeezing slightly as he looks deep into his eyes.
“I thought you would do anything.”
Shane struggles to speak, both in making his brain connect to his mouth, and the way Ilya is holding his jaw. But he whispers, “Just for you. I– I don't… No one else should see. Just you.”
Ilya seems to contemplate his words for a moment before relenting, letting go of Shane's face and nudging him off of his lap and onto the couch.
“Okay. Stay here,” he says, and he walks towards the bedroom.
Shane throws an arm over his eyes as he leans back into the couch pillow, shaking his head slightly. He feels like every nerve in his body is a live wire.
He hears Ilya's footsteps return and drops his arm to reveal his boyfriend approaching with a warm cloth and a cup of water.
“Drink,” he orders, passing Shane the cup. Shane does so willingly. Ilya cleans up the mess on his stomach, already having tidied himself up in the bathroom while he was gone.
Ilya steps away once more to throw the dirty cloth in the laundry, coming back to settle in beside Shane on the couch.
He drops his hand to Shane's knee, rubbing small circles with his thumb. Shane watches the movement intently, sensing Ilya's eyes on the side of his face.
“Okay,” Ilya says. “We will not go over to your parents until we are done with these.”
Shane's exhale comes out a little shaky as he sets the empty cup down on the table.
“Thank you.”
“We will say we are busy until next week. That gives us time to stop the pills.”
Shane finally meets his boyfriend's eyes again. “They're going to–”
“Da, yes. Think we are having sex all day, every day.” He purses his lips, like he's trying not to smile. “I guess we will just have to keep fucking so that we are not lying to your poor mother.”
Shane rolls his eyes, but a small smile takes over his face. Fine, he thinks. Let his parents think what they want. It's better than them seeing him like this.
He doesn't want to know what his mother would say about him changing his body for Ilya. He's an adult. He can decide what he wants to do with his life, his body, his boyfriend.
He thinks what he said to Ilya is probably true. If there are no prying eyes, he thinks he would do just about anything for Ilya Rozanov.
-
It had been five days since Shane had stopped taking the growth supplements, but his chest had yet to change size. Two large breasts were still attached to him, as sensitive as ever.
“Ilya,” he says, walking out into the living area. His boyfriend is sat on the couch, half paying attention to a game on the television. He glances up and hums at Shane in acknowledgement.
“You said they would go away after I stopped taking the pills.”
Ilya frowns as he gets off the couch and makes his way over to Shane. He looks down at his chest, only covered by the sports bra.
“Bottle said it would take up to a week. Maybe they will go away tomorrow?” he offers, running a soothing hand down Shane's arm.
Shane just huffs. “They better. I– I can't just… have these forever. How the fuck would I explain that to the team?”
Ilya shrugs a shoulder and smirks. “Tell them your boyfriend thinks they are very, very sexy.”
“Yeah, right, I'm sure that'll go well,” Shane says flatly, rolling his eyes.
Ilya gives him a quick kiss. “I'm sure they will be gone by the weekend.”
Shane just sighs. “Okay.”
-
It was officially the eighth day, and Shane's breasts weren’t any smaller. If anything, they seemed to be fuller. More hard and sensitive.
He was sat up in bed, looking miserably down at his naked chest as Ilya still slept beside him.
What the fuck was he supposed to do? He had trusted Ilya, trusted these supplements to be temporary. Now, it had been over a week and it didn't look like these things were going anywhere.
It had been fun when it was in the privacy of the cottage, where only he and Ilya could see. But soon, he would be expected to see other people. His parents, Hayden, and eventually his teammates when the season started up. Even just going anywhere in public would be catastrophic. There was no hiding the noticeable curve of his chest. People would see, and would laugh, and he would never live it down.
His inner anguish must have been loud enough to somehow wake Ilya, as he shifts and blinks up at him blearily.
“Lyubimiy, is everything okay?” he asks, voice gravelly from sleep.
“No,” Shane says pathetically. “They're– they're still here, Ilya. And they… they kinda hurt.”
Ilya sits up, rubbing the sand from his eyes.
“Hey, it is okay. We will figure it out,” Ilya mumbles, hand resting on Shane's thigh.
Shane suddenly feels tears pooling in his eyes and tries desperately to keep them from falling. He's not gonna fucking cry over this. He's not.
“Hey, hey,” Ilya continues, sensing his despair. “Tell me, what do they feel like?”
Shane stares up at the ceiling, like it holds the answers to his problem.
“I don't know,” he grits out between clenched teeth. “Like… like they're heavier. And warm. And, again, they kinda hurt.”
Ilya hums, but it sounds more like a realization than just an understanding.
He turns to face him. “What?” he asks. “Is there something wrong? Is that why they're not gone yet?”
“No, I mean, kind of. Is just…” Ilya trails off.
“What?” Shane asks again, more forcefully this time.
Ilya shrugs, pushing the blankets away and flipping himself so that he's on top of Shane. He has his head tilted to the side, looking curiously at Shane's breasts.
“There were some possible side effects. Not common, but… could happen.”
Shane's blood turns to ice in his veins. “You said it wouldn't be permanent. Ilya, you promised.” He can't keep the emotion out of his voice.
But Ilya is quickly shaking his head. “No, Shane. Is still just temporary, do not worry. I think they just need to be… emptied.”
Shane's breath stutters. “Emptied?”
“Yes. Warnings said they could sometimes be full, and when they are emptied, they will go away.”
Shane is terrified to ask, but pushes forward anyway. “Full of… what?”
Ilya's eyes flick to his. “Milk,” he breathes.
His heartbeat flutters in his chest. “Milk?” he repeats back in disbelief.
“Mm, yes. Like, ah, pregnant woman. Making milk for baby.”
“Oh my fucking God,” Shane exhales, looking around the room in shock. He turns his furious gaze back to his boyfriend. “Are you seriously telling me I'm producing milk from my fucking breasts?”
Ilya takes that moment to paw gently at Shane's right tit, and the sensation makes him nearly jump out of his skin.
“Fuck, Ilya,” he yelps. “That fucking hurts!”
“I know, sweetheart. But we have to get the milk out.”
Shane's breath is shaky, his heartbeat a rabbit thrashing inside his ribcage. He watches as Ilya raises his other hand and continues to gently massage both of his breasts.
“Holy fuck,” Shane bites out, grasping onto Ilya's biceps for stability. He feels that warmth deep in his chest rising to the surface, and although they've just discussed it, the sight of white droplets forming around his nipple makes him gasp. “Oh my god.”
“See, I told you. We just need to empty you,” Ilya says, pushing Shane down so he's laying back against the pillows and the headboard.
“And how the fuck are we going to do that? We don't have a fucking baby around,” he snaps, feeling so wildly abnormal that anger is the easiest emotion to draw on.
“No, no baby. But I am here,” Ilya says, grinning devilishly.
“What does that–” And Shane doesn’t get to finish his question, because Ilya's mouth is latching onto Shane's right nipple and sucking, and Shane almost blacks out.
“Ah, Oh my God, fuck, holy fuck,” Shane babbles, his hands automatically going to Ilya's curls, fingers threading through the locks and pulling. He's already so hard, and even with his boxers on he can feel his dick pressing up into Ilya's abdomen where he hovers over him.
He looks down and finds Ilya's eyes already on him, lips still wrapped around his breast. There's liquid dripping from his mouth, down his chin, and his eyelids are slightly hooded.
Shane's right breast is now noticeably smaller than his left. Draining the milk is obviously working, and he can't deny that the sight before him is quite possibly the most arousing thing he's ever seen. Ilya seems to be enjoying this just as much as he is.
Once his breast is back to normal, he guides Ilya's mouth quickly over to the left. He immediately latches on, and Shane keens.
“Yes, Ilya, fuck. You're– so good, oh my–”
Ilya moans, sending vibrations through Shane's chest. Shane reaches between them, clumsily trying to free their dicks from their boxers.
Once their cocks are free, he reaches for Ilya's first. He suddenly, desperately, wants his boyfriend to come while drinking his milk. He wipes at Ilya's chin, gathering some of the wetness on his palm and starts stroking Ilya's cock.
Ilya whines loudly, hips jerking into Shane's fist. He starts suckling harder, and Shane can feel the milk being pulled from his flesh.
“Yes. Just– little more–” Shane chokes out. He sees his left breast finally return to normal and begins furiously jerking off Ilya until he's detaching from Shane's nipple and spilling onto Shane's chest with loud moans.
“Fuck, Shane, fuck–”
“Oh… Oh my God…” Shane breathes, but he doesn’t get a moment before Ilya’s mouth is on his dick. He shuts his eyes tight as Ilya's head bobs up and down, and it's only seconds before he's yelling loudly and spilling down Ilya's throat.
He gives Shane's thigh a light smack before flopping over to lay on his back beside him.
They both pant heavily, staring up at the ceiling and trying to catch their breaths.
“Fuck,” Shane says.
Ilya laughs, nodding. “Yes.”
Ilya turns onto his side, running a hand down the flat planes of Shane's chest. He still has muscle, but it's no longer the breast tissue that was there before.
“Back to normal. Everything is okay, yes?”
“Yeah,” Shane agrees, because he does feel much better now. That tight, warm feeling is completely gone. And he can finally go outside again without feeling like he's going to get caught doing something dirty.
“I guess we can finally go over to my parents’ tonight for dinner,” he voices.
Ilya makes a groaning sound and flops back onto his back. He shakes a hand in the air dramatically.
“Ugh, don't mention food right now, Hollander. I am so full.”
“Oh, ew,” Shane says, nose scrunching up. “Don't say that.”
“What? Is true.” He sends a lopsided smile towards Shane. “You fill me up very nicely.”
The embarrassment of what they had just done finally hits him.
“Oh my God,” he groans, hiding his face in his hands. “I can't believe we just did that.”
He feels the bed move as Ilya sits up. “Ah, ah. No,” he tuts, pulling one hand away. “Was hot, yes?”
Shane looks at him with his one revealed eye. “Yes…” he sighs. “It was hot.”
“Okay! I find it hot, you find it hot. So no one has to be embarrassed.” Ilya leans in and gives him a kiss on his exposed cheek.
Shane finally drops his other hand from his face and shakes his head. “I love you,” he says, leaning over and kissing Ilya on the lips.
Ilya beams, and pulls him in for more. “Ya tebya lyublyu.”