Chapter Text
It takes them ages for them to finally untangle – mostly because of Ilya. Who was content to marinate in their afterglow until at least the next morning. Shane, would also love nothing more than to stay like that, wrapped up in each other forever. He could not, however, because the drying sweat on his skin was starting to itch and the cum on his stomach was gluing him to Ilya in a way he did not like. He was feeling gross in a few different ways.
Finally, with enough nudging and pushing, Shane has Ilya up and out of bed with the promise of more cuddles after a shower and a change of sheets.
Ilya huffs, wrapping his arms around Shane lazily as they waddle to the bathroom. Ilya kissing and nipping along any skin he could reach as his head rest on Shane’s shoulder. It’s distracting to say the least but Shane wouldn’t have it any other way. There's something comforting in he fact that Ilya wants to be close to him - as close as possible. Helps Shane justify the feeling inside himself of just how much he wants to be close to Ilya.
Shane’s shower isn’t big - though bigger than the one at his Montreal apartment - yet they squeeze in together anyway, the glass door fogging up almost immediately as Shane leans Ilya against the wall.
“You gonna stand there and watch or get cleaned off?” Shane asks as he grabs his shampoo and starts scrubbing it through his hair. He glances back at Ilya to see him half shrug; eyes still lost in thought -or post sex haze maybe - as they slowly drag over Shane’s body.
There’s a pause and Shane knows Ilya is translating in his head, “So much energy still,” He says with a huff, chin tipping up in a challenge, “Maybe I should push you up against the wall. Fuck you again.”
Shane reaches back and smacks his chest with a soapy hand, it splats suds and bubbles into the air causing a small huff of a laugh from Ilya. “Shut up.”
“I know you're still stretched, ready-” Shane hears the words as he shoves his head under the spray of water, Ilya steps closer, a line of heat against him. “- I could slip right back in. I know you're still wet with my cum.”
Shane’s hands slam against the wall as Ilya's fingers slide between his cheeks, fingers that find and presses against his hole, that is in fact still stretched and perfectly accommodated for Ilya to do just that. Cum trickling out between Ilya fingers down Shane’s thighs before its washed away. “Fuck.” Shane gasps.
Ilya smiles against the back of his neck, two fingers pressing further inside him. “We should leave it there.”
“What?” Shane’s asks, half dazed, as he leans more heavily against the wall.
“My cum.” Shane throws a hand back to smack Ilya’s arm before quickly slamming it back to the wall to steady himself as Ilya crooks his fingers in a way that makes Shane keen and his knees go weak. “Everyone will know who’s marked you.”
“We- We won’t see anyone.”
Ilya hums in thought, thrusting his fingers absently. Shane can feel his cock against his hip as Ilya leans against the wall with his free hand. “I think I need something from store.”
Shane’s brows furrow, his foot tetters to widen his stance. “What do you need?” He asks in complete seriousness.
Ilya chuckles, hooking his chin over Shane’s shoulder. “hmm...Something.” His smile tucked into Shanes hair.
“You don’t actually need anything, do you?” Shane states more than questions, shuddering as Ilya pushes in a third finger.
“No.” He replies hinestly, dropping the game as his hand grabs Shane’s dick, teeth grazing over his shoulder, “Everything I need is here.”
“Fuck,” Shane shivers, gasps, toes curling. “Then why do you need to go to the store?”
Ilya is stroking him in long slow tugs, finger have found the perfect angle and his mouth knows just where to nip and suck to make Shanes brain mush. “So everyone will know. That you are mine.”
They can't, is the thing. No one can know. But also.
Shane’s mouth tries to form the words for something he’s not ready to admit yet. But it’s so close, he wants to say it so bad. He presses his forehead into the wall, nails scratching against the slick tile wall, panting. Arching and pressing against Ilya. “Ilya- please. Can you- fuck. Ah.”
“I can fuck.” Ilya teases but then his teeth clamp at the base of Shane’s neck and hold. If he puts any more force, he could break the skin and Shane wants him to do it so fucking bad. He wants Ilya's mark. He needs it.
He opens and closes his mouth a few times to try and form any sounds. Maybe to tell him to stop. Or keep going. To bite, perhaps.
He only manages a moan as he cums. Ilya strokes him through his orgasm until it hurts and he absently kicks Ilya shin to get him to stop.
Ilya kisses along his neck as he strokes himself until Shane can feel warm strands of cum against his back and ass briefly before it’s washed away.
“Better,” Ilya says with enough pride to poke someones eye out, looking over Shane, who’s still using the wall for support.
“We still need to wash up.” Shane manages after a moment. Ilya makes a noise of disapproval but he grabs the body wash, lathering it up and begins swiftly yet efficiently washing them both – Shane first, then himself.
The water washing away the sweat and cum, Ilya makes sure to wash Shane’s ass, though it’s mostly teasing until Shane bats his hands away with a grumble. “Stop trying to get me hard again.”
“I try nothing.” Ilya says, much too smugly, “I do.” His expression shifts from a smirk to a small smile as Shane runs his fingers through his hair, messaging shampoo through the strands. He lets out a pleased rumble like purr as Shane tugs at the strands on the base of his neck. “You make me hard too.” He says like it’s new information.
“Everything makes you hard.” Shane snips back as he pushes him under the spray.
“Hm, yes, but mostly you.” Ilya responds. “More than anything or anyone else.”
As the water rinses away the last of the suds, Shane kisses his cheeks and whispers, “You know you’re going to smell like me - my shampoo, my body wash, my sheets. Me”
Ilya pulls him closer by his hips, making sure to keep eye contact as he replies, “I want nothing more, for the rest of my life.”
Shane gulps, jaw tightening as the purr settles back in his chest.
Ilya smiles, kissing him with tongue and teeth and affection, under the water until they're prune-y and the water starts to feel cool.
Ilya turns off the shower and dries them both off with big, fluffy towels. He doesn’t let Shane touch the towel, instead he follows each new dry area with a kiss until Shane is hard -again- and whiney. It's almost unbelievable how hard he gets so quickly, and often, from Ilya. Sure, Ilya teases him about it, but it's almost a problem. One that he's sure Ilya would say is a 'good problem to have'. “I said stop trying to get me hard.” He repeats with less sass.
Ilya pulls the towel off Shane’s head, plopping a kiss on his lips before hanging the towel up like he knows Shane prefers instead of throwing on the ground like he would normally do. “I try nothing. I do” Ilya replies, with way more sass than before.
“Fuck off.” Shane grumbles but pulls Ilya in for another kiss. Hands cupping his still slightly damp curls at the back of his head. The kisses start soft but end in more than a few loud exaggerated ‘mwah’s from Ilya just to make Shane giggle.
And Shane, well he notices that he hasn’t stopped the low steady purring. Ilya also seems very aware of it as well and he seems to know what to do to make it louder.
“Come. Let’s change sheets and cuddle. It is past your bedtime.” Ilya ushers Shane out the door with a light swat to his ass which Shane grumbles about but it's ignored as Ilya grabs clean sheets from the closet.
“I’m not a kid. I don’t have a bedtime. I just like getting an adequate amount of sleep because I’m a professional athlete. Which you should be doing to if you want to be at the top of your game.” Shane justifies - half reprimands - as he strips the bed of the dirty sheets before shoving them in the hamper.
“I am the best player in the NHL.” Ilya states nonplused, tossing the sheet over the bed. Shane shots him a glare as he catches the ends. “When I am with you, I get enough sleep.” He corrects sly as they tuck the new sheets over the bed. “You always make sure I go to bed on time.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Shane smooths his hands over the sheet to get the wrinkles out a bit too aggressively, before grabbing the duvet and tossing it over the bed. "That me wanting you well rested and healthy is a bad thing."
Ilya helps him finish before he crawls under the covers, patting the bed. Shane turns off the light, leaving only a dim lamp before joining Ilya, visibly grumpy.
“You caring about me…” Ilya starts, pulling Shane into his arms, “Makes me more happy than I can explain.”
Shane looks at him, glistening eyes, bottom lip puffed out in a tiny pout. “Really? It’s not… I’m not…annoying?” He says the word so softly it’s almost inaudible.
Ilya hums, “You are.” He says cheekily before laying a flurry of kisses over Shane’s face before he could complain. “But I like it.” Followed by a soft kiss to his lips. “I like you.”
Shane feels the happiness well up inside him but he can't get himself to speak it yet, He just smiles as he tucks his face into Ilya’s neck. They laying curled together until Ilya falls asleep. Shane tries too as well but something stops him. What, he’s not sure because he wants nothing more than to drift off into the warmth of Ilya's chest. Instead he listens to the soft barely there snores with each deep breath for a while hoping it would soothe him.
And it does soothe him, just not enough to fall asleep.
About an hour later, Shane gives up on trying to sleep and slowly extracts himself from Ilya’s arms and the bed. Ilya’s hands grab absently at the air for a moment with a frown before he settles, face pressed into the pillow where Shane’s head was. Shane drops a kiss to his head before heading out of the room.
He pads down the hall, wondering through the cottage. It’s dark but the moonlight streaming through the windows helps him see enough to not run into anything. He opens the door to the guest room, peering inside. Nothing. Or at least not an answer. Then does the same to the other one. No surprise, still nothing. He frowns.
What is this feeling?
He walks back into the guest room and absently touches the pillow. The room smells a little old and stale even though Shane put new sheets on before Ilya had arrived. No one really uses the rooms so it makes sense they don’t really smell like the rest of the house. The pillows and blankets do though. They smell like Shane's laundry detergent. Like Shane.
Then without realizing it, he’s clutching the pillows to his chest and tugging the blanket off the bed. He doesn’t think too much about it as he walks back to his room. He tucks the pillows next to Ilya’s head and puts the blanket against Ilya's back along the edge of the bed. He pitters back to the other guest room and grabs the pillows and blanket from there too. This time he lays the blanket along the opposite edge of the bed.
He stares at the bed.
No, it’s still not right yet.
“What’s missing?” Shane mummers. Ilya mutters something in his sleep, hand absently twitching against the empty space where Shane should be.
He walks out to the living room and grabs the blankets from the basket by the couch - including the one that Ilya was using earlier that day which still smells like him. He tosses them onto the bed before going to the closet and grabbing the extra blankets and pillows from there too.
Ilya doesn’t wake as he arranges things on the bed. It takes him a few tries before he gets an arrangement that feels right. The blankets and pillows form a sort of barrier around the edge of the bed, a bit precarious, like a wrong move in his sleep could tumble them over. Yet, it also feels better, right. More right than before at least.
He stares at his work, not admiring it, just acknowledging it and the way Ilya is half sprawled amungst the particularly placed linens. The moonlight drifting in to shine on Ilya's peaceful face as a reminder. He takes another long glance across the bed, it’s not enough or even close to perfect but it feels softer and he feels settled. Like whatever was keeping him before had been satisfied enough for him to feel tired.
He carefully crawls back into bed - back into Ilya's arms.
Ilya shifts, pushing against Shane until he’s lying on his chest. Shane lets his eyes drift shut as a content purr echoes through the quiet room. Ilya sleepily nuzzles closer to the sound.
---
“мое солнышко.” Moy solnyshko. My Sunshine. Ilya says softly, almost reverently, against Shane’s cheek, “It’s time to wake up.” Followed by a soft kiss.
Shane blearily looks over at the clock on his night stand as a habit, not registering any of the numbers before closing his eyes again. “Not yet.”
Ilya laughs, a bit too loud for early morning in Shane’s opinion – which is saying something because he’s usually the early riser- before peppering kisses across his cheeks where his freckles lay. “Yes, it is time. Your parents called. They will be here soon.” A few inquisitive kissed that Shane instincively returns. “You want to be in bed when they get here?”
Shane furrows his brows, blinking them open to look at Ilya. Ilya who's glowing, a halo of golden curls backlight by the sun that is shining through the open door and around the curtians that are partially drawn. Cheeks rounded in a too big smile. Shane focuses on his eyes that are like warm pools of blue he could drown in. “Parents?” He asks after a few moments longer than it should have taken.
“Yes, your parents. You know, the ones who raised you from little boy who can't skate to man who can skate slightly better but -” His laugh is muffled by the pillow Shane shoves in his face.
“They’re not stopping by till the afternoon.” Ilya places the pillow back where it belongs on the bed, smiling at him - something teasing yet adoring. Ilya's hands rub softly over Shane’s sides, thumbs making sort of half circle motions into Shane’s relaxed stomach muscles.
Everything is warm and cozy and it smells like ShaneIlya and he doesn’t want to move. A struggle he’s never had before.
“Yes.” Ilya comfirms gently, hands pressing firmly yet comfortingly. "It is afternoon."
Shane jerks at the comment, sitting up so quick he almost slams his head into Ilya who – thankfully has the reflexes to move away just in time. He pats around the bed for his phone before remembering that it’s on his nightstand. He fumbles for it and sees that it is indeed, afternoon. Twelve thirty-two to be exact and he’s got a few missed calls and messages from his parents – mostly his mom. “Shit.”
“I answered your mom’s call and explained we slept in." Ilya takes the phone out of Shane’s hand and sets it back down on the nightstand. "She understands but expects us to be ready when she gets here in an hour.”
“You talked to my mom?” Shane asks confused, still working to wake up his brain. “Wait. Why did we sleep so late? I have a routine.”
“You do.” Ilya agrees. “A very boring morning routine,” He comments idly as he pulls Shane back to the middle of the bed, practically in his lap.
“It’s not boring it’s healthy and helps me maintain -”
“Boring.” Ilya interrupts and drags out the word before cupping Shane’s face and planting a big loud kiss to his lips. “So boring” He repeats fondly, lovingly.
“… whatever it’s boring." Shane agrees begrudgingly. "But I have a routine, so why…” Shane looks around the bed, face twisting in confusion. “Wait. Where did all the blankets come from?”
Ilya pulls him close, as close as possible, fully into his lap as nuzzles against his neck. He's rumbling happily as him as he declares, “You made a nest.”
“A nest?” Shane tips his head, looking over the bed again. “It doesn’t look like a nest.” At least not like the examples of nest that he’s seen before. Ones that were had walls and fluffy pillows, ones that you’d sink into the middle like a quicksand of blankets sucking you under.
Ilya wraps his legs around Shane, hands cupping his shoulder and chest tight, rocking softly. A move that is meant to soothe - that Ilya’s done only a few times before - since he’s learned it’s a good way to help Shane stay calm, ground him. Ilya thinks he’s freaking out. Or might freak out. Or is going to freak out. He’s not fully wrong.
Shane is a little...he takes a deep breath and holds it in for four and out for eight, letting himself be rocked slowly and gently, clutched tight to Ilya's chest. Feeling the slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat against his back.
Ilya is content to nuzzle, kiss, and nip along the base of Shane’s neck in a way that implies something. Something very permanent. Something Ilya seems ready for, begging for, without words.
Something that he wants but they can’t have.
God, does Shane want it too. He just needs the courage to do it.
He was never an omega that purred, made nests or needed an alpha's attention. He just needed hockey. And yet…
“You made a nest.” Ilya praises again, this time sounding even more over the moon about it, with his happy rumble. “A nest for us.” He sounds reverent and gleeful.
“I never make nests….” Shane covers Ilya's hands with his own, tightening his grip until the arms pressed against him like a weighted blanket. ”I mean I don’t…” He catches the uptick in his breath the same time Ilya does.
“No. You didn’t make nests before.” Ilya tries to emphasis the past tense. “But you did. Look at what you did.” Ilya keeps a tight hold on him, rocking and nuzzling, doing such a good job at keeping him from being overwhelmed, in a way that no one else has ever done before. It's so much, too much but also, it's nothing at the same time. He's getting worked up over something that other omega's do regularly. It's just he doesn't. Hadn't. And Ilya. Ilya has always seemed to know what to say or do. Shane's fingers dig into Ilya's skin as he focuses on just Ilya. His warmth, his muscle, his smell... his voice.
“So beautiful. So precious. You did it for me.” Ilya murmurs, elated and breathless, mouthing at Shane’s jaw. “For us.”
“For…us?” Shane turns his head to lock eyes with Ilya to make sure he understands everything correctly. “I made this … for us?” He asks but it’s more the like a disbelieving statement than a question.
“любимый” lyubimyy. Darling. Ilya praises, kissing Shane with a hand posed on his neck cupping it gently but enough to anchor Shane and tilt him where Ilya wants him to go.
And Shane would follow anywhere.
The kiss starts of sweet and gentle but shifts as Ilya's tongue swipes into Shane’s mouth - it’s calling, teasing, yearning. Telling him without words how he feels about the nest. Shane has a thing or two he wants to say, right on the tip of tongue, begging to be formed in words. Bite me. Marry me. Love me. Keep me. Be mine forever.
If he was brave enough he would.
When they finally separate, they're both panting with red, puffy lips. “I am so very very tempted to stay in bed all day. Maybe tomorrow too. Or forever because of you. And your beautiful nest.” Another kiss. “So perfect and pretty,” a few more kisses, “Just for me.”
“Just for you.” Shane repeats, flushing deeply, pupils blown, ready to let Ilya do anything he wants. Especially if it means never leaving the nest - that he now realizes smells like them.
He really gets it now. The way he’s heard others talk about their nest. Because it isn’t perfect, not at all. Shane can pin point at least three things he wants to change about it, to make it better. But, it's theirs. It’s comfy and cozy and now smothered in Ilya and Shane’s scent all tangled together into one IlyaShane scent that is the best thing he’s ever smelled.
It's theirs. Shane is alittle stuck and amazed by this fact. Their nest.
Ilya’s eyes darken, nipping at Shane’s lips one last time before forcing himself back. “Why did you make a nest today when we have things to do?" Ilya complains, eyes seeping over Shanes face, looking seconds away from dropping said things to do in placeof something else entirely. "I want to stay in and fuck you. Make sure the nest and you are coated in us.” Ilya pouts, hands cupping Shane’s thighs, rubbing absently. A touch that could border on sexual but feels more comforting.
Shane giggles before tucking his bottom lip between his teeth to stop himself from jumping Ilya. He’s purring again. He’s beginning to think it’s something that’s never going stop if Ilya is around. And he’s not even mad at that thought. “We should.” Shane says, knowing that he's the last one to change plans once they've been made.
“Don’t tempt me.” Ilya narrows his eyes, very tempted.
Shane bats his eyelashes innocently, almost challenging. “I’m just saying …” Shane lets his hand trail up Ilya chest, over his neck to cup his head. He pulls him ever so closer. "We could…"
Ilya leans in, breathing against Shanes lips. Shane knows he’s won whatever game they'd been playing. He shifts ready to close the distance when suddenly Shane's phone goes off, buzzing against the nightstand, startling them both.
Shane instinctively scrambles out of Ilya's arms to answers without looking at who it was. He's immediately embarrassed as his mom tells him they’ll be over in fifteen minutes and he pretends like they aren't still in bed. And yes, they will be ready and dressed when they arrive.
When he hangs up, Ilya has a shit eating grin on his face, probably because he heard the call. Definitely because he heard Shane's lie.
“We have enough time for a quick shower.” Ilya says as he slides out of bed, careful to keep all the pillows and blankets on the bed in their place. “You can even join me.” He suggests, taking a step back, trying to make it seem like an innocent offer. It doesn't work because he’s still naked (half hard) and Shane has to force his eyes away.
“You know we can’t shower quickly, if we shower together.” Though he doesn’t say it very convincingly because Ilya holds out a hand, wiggling his fingers with a raise brow and a challenge. “Do we really need a shower?” Shane asks.
Ilya nods and grabs Shane’s hand tugging him out of the bed, carefully throwing the blanket off Shane and back onto the bed before leading him to the bathroom. “I’m going to blow you as thank you.”
“What – Ilya. Fuck!” Shane shrieks as he shoved in the shower, cold water rushing down his body.
"Then later tonight, show you just how thankful I am." Ilya states as he shuts the shower door, and drops his knees. It takes no time at all for Ilya to get Shane hard and pressing into the back of his throat. The difference between the cool water and Ilya's warm mouth does something to Shane’s brain and has Shane coming before the water fully heats up.
He can’t even be embarrassed because Ilya is a man of many talents, one of which is knowing how to make Shane come, quickly.
“So pretty, любимый” lyubimyy. Darling.
Shane means to ask what the Russian word means but its a distant thought as he focuses on returning the favor. The warm water is nothing compared to the hot cum that splashes down his throat.
--
Shane and Ilya stumble out of the bedroom fully dressed! An accomplishment. Albiet a little damp yet full of smiles, ten minutes after they hear his parents arrive. They don’t mention anything, not the smell or the hickey on Shane’s neck. But everyone is fully aware of what happened before they walked out of that bedroom. It is blatantly obvious to all four grown adults, and to Shane's appreciation, understand disgression.
“What happened to the blankets in the living room? The baskets empty.” Yuna asks as she sets out ingredients on the counter. Shane flushes as Ilya practically skips over to help Yuna.
“I um...” David and Yuna make eye contact and Shane squeezes his eyes shut for a breath.
When Shane opens his eyes again Yuna is back to preparing ingredients. “I heard there’s a sale for… blankets at the store up the road. Might be worth looking into.” She comments.
“Oh, we will.” Ilya agrees instantly. “Shane tried to -”
“Ilya, please.”
“What? Is wonderful news.” Ilya waves the knife around as he speaks before Yuna grabs his hand and puts it safely back to the cutting board.
“It is wonderful news sweetie.” Yuna agrees.
“You don’t even know what the news is.” Shane whines. David, who sat at the table working on a crossword, looks up at Shane.
“Shane,” He waits until Shane looks at him before stating calming and with meaning. “It is wonderful news.”
“See!” Ilya shouts, waving the knife. Yuna tsks, annoyed as she pulls the hand back down again. “Everyone makes nests, it's beautiful.”
“You’ve never made one before. This is wonderful new.” Yuna states. “I’m sure you don’t have enough supplies so we can make a list of things and head over to the store tomorrow that way you can make your perfect nest.” Ilya smiles - like he’s the sun shining rays of happiness on everyone around him - at the idea before turning to Shane with such excitement.
“We can make together!” Ilya exclaims then pauses, “Or by yourself.” He tries to sound casual but it’s obvious he wants to help. "Whatever you want."
Shane wouldn't have even made the stupid thing if it wasn’t for Ilya. So Ilya better help him. “Of course you’re helping.”
Ilya's shining again. Ilya often calls him sun or sunshine in Russian (or so he says but he's been known to lie) but really, its' Ilya. He's the real sunshine when he's like this. He brings such warmth and happiness to everyone.
Shane sits down at the table next to his dad, glancing between his mom and Ilya, who are chatting away happily. “He’s a good one.” David says absently, filling in an answer.
Shane nods, “He is.” There’s a comfortable silence between them for a moment before, “I made a nest.” He states a bit scared and a bit in disbelief.
David’s pencil stops writing and he sets it down, giving his full attention to Shane. “You did.” He says softly. Proudly.
Shane nods, a bit jerkily, eyes darting to Ilya. “I think… I think I might…” Shane rubs at is chest, biting into his cheek.
David waits a moment and when Shane doesn’t finish, he hands him the pencil and pushes the crossword towards him. “I think it’s a great choice.” David states honestly. “He’s a good one.” Like he knows what Shane was imply.
Shane gulps again, “Yeah?” Eyes stinging as he glances over the questions. “I think so too.”
He wasn’t ready yet and he wasn’t sure when he would be. But maybe he was ready to embrace a few omega traits that he’d been sure he didn’t have.
Maybe he’d had them the whole time and just needed someone to share them with.
Someone like Ilya who embraces him – every part of Shane- with his whole being.
His Ilya.