Chapter Text
The locker room was heavy with silence when Ilya suddenly slammed the metal locker door with his fist, his whole body shaking with anger. They had just lost their third match in a row, this time against the Montreal Metros, with a humiliating score of 6-0. Their two previous defeats had already lowered team morale, but this match had been particularly brutal: the Boston Raiders had no reason to lose this match against the Montreal Metros, not since their Captain Shane Hollander had suffered a season-ending injury barely 2 months before the playoffs had even started.
The fans had been devasted when Hollander had been slammed so hard by Cliff Marlow that he had to be transported to the hospital during the match, but not as devastated as Ilya. He could still remember how terrified and powerless he had felt while watching Shane barely conscious on the ice.
Ilya had really been worried sick, and he went to visit Shane in the hospital as soon as possible. Shane had beenextremely high on medication during Ilya’s visit, so he ended up telling Ilya many silly things that had made his heart melt. Shane also invited Ilya to come with him to his cottage during the summer; it had seemed impossible forIlya to accept back then, but just hearing those words from Shane had made him want to cry of happiness.
But his happiness had been short-lived, as Shane had been ignoring him ever since.
Ilya had texted him, had even tried calling him a few times, but he never got any answer. Ilya had tried to convince himself that Shane had a good reason to not answer him, that he wasn’t ignoring him on purpose. He knew that Shane had hit his head pretty hard and that the concussion he had developed had been quite severe, so perhaps he simply hadn’t touched his phone since the accident. That wouldn’t have been surprising, Ilya was well aware of how obsessed Shane was with hockey and how disciplined he was.
So while he had been worried and overthinking constantly during these last two months, Ilya had still tried his best to stay positive and to wait for Shane to reach back, to no avail. But today, just before the start of their match against the Montreal Metros, Ilya had heard Hayden Pike talking with one of his teammates about how Shane had just texted them to wish them luck for the game. So Shane truly was ignoring him, and Ilya had made a fool of himself by texting and calling him repeatedly.
Flashes about how Shane had probably been laughing with Hayden when he showed him all the unanswered phone calls and texts from Ilya kept playing in Ilya’s mind. Hayden had probably made that comment about Shane on purpose, as he was close enough to Ilya to make Ilya overhear what he was saying and make him completely distracted for the game ahead.
And it had worked: Ilya had played like shit today, and his team had suffered an incredibly mortifying loss. The thought made Ilya’s blood boil with rage again and he punched the locker door a second time hard enough to leave a dent.
“Calm down, Rozanov, it’s not the locker’s fault you forgot how to play hockey today,” snickered Connors, one of his teammates, as he was getting changed next to Ilya.
Ilya quickly turned towards Connors, and levelled him with a look that could have turned him into stone. He missed Shane so much, and he felt miserable at the thought of having been ignored and rejected like trash after finally finding the courage to share more of himself with Shane. He hated himself for acting like such a fool. Hated himself for being so lonely and pathetic. He hated himself for being so easily distracted that he would make his team lose 6-0. He hated himself so much, and he just wanted to punch himself in the face for it.
Instead, he punched Connors’ face so hard he heard the sound of his broken nose under the weight of his fist. He punched him, again and again and again. He got punched back a few times, but he couldn’t even feel the pain, as his whole body was too full of rage, hatred and sadness. He could barely hear the screams of his teammates, didn’t even realize there were multiple hands trying to separate him and Connors.
At some point, Ilya realized that Connors wasn’t even there anymore. Someone had probably successfully grabbed him and got him out of the room. Ilya eyes had become blind with rage by that point, and he didn’t even care about who it was that he was hurting anymore. He was just punching and kicking everyone who got close enough. He suddenly felt very, very tired.
“Rozanov, what the fuck are you doing?!” Coach roared as soon as he entered the locker room. “Come with me, right now!”
He didn’t even wait for Ilya to answer before turning around and storming off, as he knew Ilya would follow him right away.
Ilya knew what was coming for him. Fighting with your own team was absolutely prohibited, and with the way Ilya had been attacking everyone who got close enough to get punched, he was definitely on his way to get suspended for the rest of the season. He might even get his contract terminated. No Shane. No Russia. No hockey, Ilya thought to himself. Just how much more pathetic could he get?
***
BOSTON, 2 MONTHS LATER
Ilya was watching the MHL cup final alone in his house in Boston. Svetlana had asked him multiples times to watch it together, but Ilya just wanted to be alone. He was grateful to have Svetlana, she had been nothing but supportive towards him since he got suspended, but he barely had the motivation to get out of bed these days, so he definitely didn’t have the energy to act fine in front of her.
The last time he had let himself be vulnerable and cry in front of someone was with Shane, and it had ended up with him being ghosted not even a month later. Ilya knew better than to make the same mistake again. On the screen, Scott Hunter, the captain of the New York Admirals, was holding the cup for the first time, smiling proudly as he skatedtowards the rest of his teammates to celebrate their victory.
Ilya looked resentfully at Hunter, who was radiant with happiness and glee, while he was sitting alone in his living room, wearing the same clothes he had been wearing for 3 days straight, taking big gulps from the half empty bottle of vodka on the table next to him, and ignoring the ashtray full of cigarette butts that had spilled on the floor last week and Ilya still hadn’t picked up or cleaned. At this point, Ilya didn’t know if he was ever going to.
Shane would hate to see me like this, Ilya thought bitterly. Or maybe he would just hate to see me at all. His attention suddenly got caught up by the television again. On the screen, Scott Hunter was passionately kissing a tall, muscular man on the ice, and even from his couch, Ilya could tell that the mysterious man was an alpha.
Ilya’s brows furrowed as he watched the two men kiss. Homosexual relationships were not as common as heterosexual ones, but they were still openly accepted in society. However, Scott Hunter was a beta, so it was a bit weird to see him kiss an alpha so openly. All the hockey players in the MHL were alphas or betas, so most of them were in relationships with omegas: that was what was generally expected of professional hockey players who made millions a year.
There were a few players who married betas instead of omegas, but their spouses were all women, so they could still carry children. While there was no explicit rule statingthat omegas couldn’t play in the MHL, it was known by everyone that their heat cycle, their unstable pheromones and their weaker constitution made them a poor choice for a team to recruit. On the rare occasions that players of the junior league were openly out as omega, they had never been drafted by the MHL teams.
Being an omega was a death sentence for any hockey player who hoped to become a professional. Ilya never had to worry about that. Being an alpha himself, he was welcomed easily by the MHL. Actually, Ilya had always felt a bit uncomfortable with omegas. The idea of omegas being able to seduce alphas with their pheromones to the point where an alpha could lose his mind was a bit scary to him, and while he knew this was probably an exaggeration, he still preferred to be careful. Omegas also seemed too fragile to him, Ilya preferred people who were strong, with toned and muscular bodies. That’s why he had always slept with betas, he simply wasn’t interested in omegas.
Ilya looked at the television again as it showed Scott Hunter being interviewed.
“How does it feel to take your team all the way up to the final and to finally win the cup?”
“It feels great! We worked so hard all season, and every player on the team has given his all to take us to this point.”
“We saw you kissing a mysterious stranger on the ice earlier, why did you decide to publicly launch your relationship after winning the cup?”
“Everyone on the team was celebrating our win with their partner, I wanted to do the same. I also thought that winning the cup would be the right moment to stop hiding who I am.”
“Hiding who you are?”
“Yes. I’ve been hiding for years ‘cause I was afraid that being honest would ruin my career. Being who I am didn’t stop me from winning the cup, it proves that the whole MHL system needs to change.”
“I’m confused, what do you mean? What are you hiding?”
“I am not a beta. I’m an omega, and I’ve just won the Stanley Cup.”
Ilya stared dumbfounded at Scott Hunter smiling proudly as he answered more of the interviewer’s questions. He never expected that Scott Hunter was actually an omega. Ilya couldn’t help but feel respect for the man. It must have taken a lot of courage to admit so publicly, and even after winning the cup, it could still have had heavy repercussion on Scott’s career.
Ilya suddenly felt even more depressed as he looked at Scott on the screen. Even while being an omega, Scott hadachieved so much. He was the beloved captain of the New York Admirals, he had just won the Cup, he was in love and publicly in a relationship with his boyfriend, and he had just done the most courageous thing Ilya had ever seen someone do in front of the whole world. And what had Ilya achieved?
He had gotten in a stupid fight with his own teammates because he couldn’t handle his anger issues, he had gotten suspended from his team – his contract probably wasn’t going to be renewed after that - he got ghosted by the man he loved after finally admitting to himself that he had feelings for him, his parents were dead, his only living family, his brother, was only after his money, and he kept pushing away the only real friend he had. There wasnothing left for him in Russia, but was there anything for him in Boston? What was he even living for anymore? Ilya felt completely overwhelmed by a wave of despair as he stared blankly at the ceiling. He really wished he could just disappear right now.
His depressive thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing on the table. Ilya grabbed the phone, expecting Svetlana’s name to appear, but instead he saw a name that suddenly made his heart race.
JANE is calling…
Ilya didn’t even think, he pressed answer with a shaky hand.
“Yes.”
“Hello, Ilya.” Shane’s voice was soft and hesitant. Ilyastayed silent for a few seconds, but he was afraid that Shane was going to hang up if he didn’t add something.Ilya didn’t know if he should call him Shane or Hollander, so he chose neither, just to be safe.
“Hello.”
Ilya heard Shane taking a deep breath through the phone.
“Come to my cottage.”
“What?”
“Come to my cottage this summer. We need to talk.”
“We need to talk?” Ilya repeated, incredulous. Now Shane wanted to talk? After ignoring him for months?
“Yes, we do.”
“Is this joke? You ignored me for months and now you want to talk?”
“Hmm, sounds like a familiar strategy,” Shane said dryly.
“Oh.” Ilya suddenly felt very stupid. “This is revenge, yes?” Ilya said, trying not to let the sadness show in his voice.
“No! No, it’s just… We need to talk, okay?”
“Okay.” Ilya closed his eyes to keep the tears from falling down his face.
“I’ll text you the date and the address.”
“Okay.”
“I missed you,” Shane said in a barely audible whisper, then he hung up the phone.
Ilya let the tears run through, his heart beating wildly in a chaotic state of sorrow, happiness and hope.
***
EASTERN QUEBEC, 1 MONTH LATER
Ilya was in a total panic as he finally reached Shane’s cottage. He thought about what Shane could want to talk about constantly while he was driving, and none of the scenarios Ilya could come up with were good. Shane only texted Ilya twice after their call, once to give him the address of the cottage and the date and time he expected Ilya to come, and a second time to confirm that he was still coming. Ilya had wanted to send him at least a thousand texts this last month, but he was so scared to get ignored again that he ended up not sending any besides a short confirmation when he got Shane’s texts.
And now he was here, at the cottage.
Ilya took a deep breath and readied himself as he got out of the car. The cottage looked just as when he saw it during that interview Shane did years ago. Ilya reached hesitantly to the door with his closed fist. Should he knock or ring the doorbell? The doorbell felt impersonal, but were they close enough for Ilya to just knock now? The time when they would secretly meet-up at each other’s hotel rooms felt like a lifetime away. Ilya had finally decided he should just text Shane that he was there when the door suddenly opened in front of him. Shane was looking up to him, his freckles somehow paler than Ilya remembered, and there were new,deep dark circles under his eyes.
“You look like shit. You couldn’t sleep because you missed me, yes?” Ilya awkwardly said, trying not to show how worried he actually felt by seeing Shane look so tired. He regretted the words as soon as he said them. What if Shane laughed at him? Shane probably hadn’t missed him one bit. He probably had just stayed late yesterday to watch a movie or play some boring game with his perfect family.
“You’re the one who looks like shit, Rozanov,” Shane furrowed his brows as he said it, trying to appear angry, butquickly giving up on the act. “What happened to you? Getting in a fight with your team? Getting suspended? This isn’t like you.”
Ilya could feel his throat closing up as he heard the worrying tone in Shane’s voice. Ilya had missed him so much. Now he feared that he wasn’t going to be able to stop himself from crying like a baby at the first question Shane throwed at him. He desperately tried to think of something to say back that would hide the pathetic truth: that Ilya acted like an impulsive idiot because he was madly in love with Shane, and he couldn’t handle the heartbreak of having the man he loved reject him and mock him. That hockey wasn’t fun anymore without Shane. That his relationship with his teammates just seemed so shallow and a waste of time compared to what he had with Shane, what he had lost. That he hated himself so much that he felt the need for the whole world to hate him too, and that hehad sabotaged the few good things he had left in the process.
But even if Ilya wanted to be honest with Shane right now, even if he wanted to tell him the truth and risk making an even bigger fool of himself, Ilya’s English simply wasn’t good enough to explain all of what he felt in that moment. So, instead, he went back to his usual defensiveness.
“So boring, Hollander. This is talk we need to have? Are you my mother now?”
“No. Sorry, this is not… Let’s just go inside.” Shane opened the door wider to let Ilya in, but Ilya’s heart was racing with anxiety, and he didn’t move. “Please,” Shane added, when he saw that Ilya wasn’t moving. Ilya hesitantly entered, mechanically removing his shoes in the process - he knew that Shane hated when people kept their shoes inside - and he followed Shane to the living room.
Ilya looked thoroughly at Shane as he was walking in front of him: he was dressed in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie that looked wrong for the summer heat, but Ilyacould also feel the AC running at full speed. That seemed a bit weird to Ilya, Shane had never seemed to enjoy the cold before. But Ilya had never been to Shane’s cottage, so maybe this was simply how he liked it here. Shane was also moving… wrong. Ilya couldn’t say what exactly was different, but the way Shane was moving wasn’t his usual gait, or speed. They both sat on each extremity of the couch as they finally reached the living room. The silence was heavy, and it made Ilya uncomfortable. He’d rather have been done with this discussion rapidly. Letting himself hope that he could have something with Shane again wascompletely delusional thinking on his part, and it would just have hurt him more the longer he waited.
“So. What is you want to talk about?” Ilya tried to sound nonchalant, but he wasn’t sure he was fooling anyone with the way his throat was closing up with each word.
“I—“ Shane took a deep breath and looked directly at Ilya’s face. “First, I am sorry that I didn’t reach back since the accident. I- I learned something that week at the hospital, it was a lot for me to process and I got very overwhelmed. It was wrong of me to ignore you, but I panicked. I didn’t know what to do,” Shane looked sincerely remorseful as he looked at Ilya. Ilya’s mind immediately started racing. He learned something at the hospital that was a lot to process? He wasn’t sure what “overwhelmed” meant, but it didn’t sound good. What could have made Shane Hollander panic for months? It must have been something heavy, something that could affect his hockey career. Did Shane learn that he was sick? Did he have cancer? Shane did look very tired and he was walking weird. Yes, definitely cancer. Oh god, Shane was dying!
“How bad is it? Healthcare is good in Canada, yes? Have you started treatment?” Ilya asked, not even bothering to hide the deep worry in his voice anymore.
“What?” Shane asked, a confused look on his face.
“The cancer. It is cancer, yes?” Ilya moved closer to Shane on the couch, he grabbed his hand and rubbed it softly. Who cared if he made a fool of himself? The man he loved was dying, he didn’t have time to act cool. Shane could see how pathetically in love Ilya was with him, Ilya didn’t care anymore.
“Cancer? Ilya, no. I—“ Shane took a deep breath and closed his hand around Ilya’s. Ilya waited for him to tell him the bad news, to tell what was even worse than cancer.
“I’m pregnant.”
Shane looked expectingly at Ilya, waiting for him to answer. Ilya suddenly felt as if his brain had frozen. Shane didn’t have cancer, he wasn’t dying. That was good, very good. But Shane was pregnant? No, that couldn’t have been. That made no sense. Ilya must have heard wrong. It must have been an English word he didn’t know that just sounded like pregnant.
“Sorry, I do not know that word in English.”
“Oh. Eh… I— I’m pregnant. I’m having a baby.”
Shane was still looking at Ilya very intently. A light blush was now covering his face, and Ilya would have found it adorable if he wasn’t completely absorbed in trying to understand what the fuck was happening. Shane was having a baby. A baby. That was why he had ignored Ilya, he was busy preparing the arrival of his child with whoever the fuck he had gotten pregnant. So Shane got over his phase of wanting to be fucked by an alpha and he finally found a nice beta or omega girl to settle with and start a family? Shane Hollander, the man he was in love with, was going to have a child with a woman, and he was such a nice guy that he wanted to tell Ilya in person instead of over the phone. Ilya had never felt as stupid as right now. He was on the verge of tears and Shane was still looking at him, as if he was waiting for Ilya to congratulate him.
“Congratulations, Hollander. She is lucky girl.” Ilya could barely whisper the words, his throat closing as he felt the tears coming up.
“What? Who?” Shane looked completely dumbfounded, as if Ilya had just said something ridiculous.
“The girl you got pregnant!” Ilya tried to sound disinterested, but he couldn’t hide the hurt in his voice as he said it.
“What? There’s no girl, Ilya, I’m the one who’s pregnant. You got me pregnant!” Shane scooted even closer to Ilya on the couch, then he took Ilya’s hand and he placed it on his stomach, under his shirt, revealing the already pronounced curve of his belly that he was hiding under his oversized clothes.
“You— I made you pregnant? How—“ Ilya’s voice was shaking, his hand still on Shane’s round stomach. His mind was in complete chaos, nothing made sense anymore. He could clearly see and feel Shane’s round belly, no traces left of his usual abs, but his brain also couldn’t comprehend how Shane could be pregnant. Shane was a beta, beta males couldn’t carry children. Even if they did have sex during one of Ilya’s ruts, there was absolutely no way that Shane could be pregnant. But Shane was clearly pregnant. Or was he? Was this a prank? Maybe Shane had gained weight because he couldn’t train during these last months with his injury. But Shane Hollander would never let himself go like that. Shane would also never think of making a joke like that. But Shane also couldn’t be pregnant. Ilya’s train of thoughts was in complete shambles, and he was feeling the same as when he woke up from a strange, but beautiful dream.
“I’m an omega. I’m sorry I never told you. It’s just… I thought being an omega would make it impossible for me to play for the MHL. And I knew how you disliked omegas, you said you only liked betas, so I thought… I thought I couldn’t tell you. And I thought I would always need to hide it from the MHL. Until I saw Scott Hunter publicly admit that he’s an omega after winning the Cup. It gave me hope.”
Shane was an omega, and he had hid it from Ilya. No, he hadn’t just kept it hidden, he had felt like he had to hide from Ilya, for all these years, because he was afraid that Ilya wouldn’t accept him for who he really was. It broke Ilya’s heart to realize the burden that Shane had to carry all alone, for such a long time.
“Sorry I didn’t make you feel safe enough to tell me. I don’t care that you are omega.”
“You don’t?”
“No. You are same person yesterday and today. I like you because you are you. Not because you are beta or omega.”
Ilya had barely finished talking when Shane grabbed his head and kissed him. Ilya’s heart almost exploded as he opened his mouth to reach for Shane’s tongue. He felt like a man who had finally found water after months of dying of thirst. Ilya had been stuck in the desert, and Shane’s lips were his oasis. It quickly got heated, and Ilya tried to removed Shane’s hoodie while he was kissing his neck.
“Wait!” Shane said with a panicked tone.
“What? I want to touch you. Hoodie is in the way.”
“We— We still have to talk.”
“We fuck now, we talk after. Yes?” Ilya said while still trying to remove the oversized hoodie with one hand.
“It’s just… I don’t look as good as before,” Shane’s voice cracked on the last word as his eyes brimmed with tears.
“Oh, lyubimyy, you always look good to me.” Ilya said softly as he kissed Shane all over his face. “But we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do right now.” He brought Shane closer to him so that he was sitting on Ilya’s lap, one hand on Shane’s thigh and the other rubbing his back. “Talking is nice. We can talk now and fuck later,” Ilya added with a teasing smile that won himself a chuckle from Shane.
“So. For when is the baby?”
“He’s due in October. I’m already at my 28th week.”
“Already? I missed so much,” Ilya moved his hand from Shane’s thigh to his stomach, caressing the baby bump.
“Sorry,” Shane mumbled, his face all red. “So, what do you want to do about it?”
“Time gone is done, is okay. I understand.”
“What about… the future? What do you want to do when the baby gets here?” Ilya furrowed his brows at Shane’s question, not sure about what Shane wanted to know exactly.
“Before and after the baby is here, I want to stay with you. We can be family. I want to be family with you and thelittle one,” Ilya looked earnestly at Shane as he said it. His heart was filled with joy at the thought of starting a family with the man he loved. A family that he would love and care for, that would love him and accept him. What he had always dreamed of.
And then the realisation hit him. This had always beenIlya’s dream, not Shane’s. Shane’s dream was hockey. And a family was a hard thing for a professional hockey player to manage. It was possible, sure, but it had a cost. All the players who had children also had a wife who was willing to stay home, or who had a less demanding job, to take care of them, while the hockey players pursued their dream careers. There was absolutely no way that Shane would happily sacrifice his career to stay home and raise their kid.
“Do you want to keep the baby?” Ilya asked, trying to hide the way his voice trembled, trying to be understanding towards the man he loved and who had been struggling all alone with this for weeks.
“I…” Shane looked away from Ilya, his eyes full of shame.
“Is okay. You can tell me. I will not judge you,” Ilya carefully turned Shane’s face towards himself. They had both lied to each other for too long, so it was about time to be finally honest with each other and with themselves.
“I— I wanted to get an abortion at first, when I was hospitalised and the doctors told me I was pregnant. But I was already twelve weeks along by then, so getting an abortion would have been more… complicated than I thought.” Shane looked hesitantly at Ilya, waiting for a reaction, but Ilya simply continued to rub Shane’s back encouragingly. He didn’t want to rush Shane, and he loved listening to the sound of Shane’s voice after all that time of going without, of starving.
“I couldn’t find a clinic in Montreal that would perform an abortion past twelve weeks, so I looked into the clinics in Ottawa. I found some, but… I got scared.”
“It must have been very scary to deal with that alone. Did your parents know?” Ilya asked softly, knowing how hard it must have been for Shane to deal with something as big and emotional as getting an abortion while also hiding the truth from everyone.
“No. Not at first. I told them eventually; I was panicking, and I couldn’t figure out what to do and how to do it without anyone learning that I was an omega. A pregnant omega…” Shane added bitterly. “Don’t worry, I haven’t told my parents about us, they don’t know who the father is.”
“I never worried about that,” Ilya couldn’t help but feel hurt by Shane’s comment. Would his parents hate him after learning that Ilya was the one who created this obstacle in Shane’s star career? Would Shane even want to tell them that Ilya was the father? Or was he too ashamed of Ilya?
“When I realized I couldn’t go through with the abortion, I decided I would give up the baby for adoption. That way, I would only miss the end of the season and the beginning of the next one, and I could tell everyone it was because of my injury. My mom tried to convince me to keep it, she even said that she would take all the burden of raising him so that my career wouldn’t be affected, but… That felt wrong. I don’t want to saddle my parents with the responsibility oftaking care of my child.” Shane took a deep breath as his voice started to crack. “Even if I didn’t plan on having this baby, I still love him. I want the best for him; I want him to have loving and caring parents who’re willing to give himall the time and attention he deserves, and I know I can’t be the one to do it.”
Shane closed his eyes. His soft voice was determined and full of sorrow as he talked about the child he loved, but not properly, not perfectly. Not without having to give up onhockey, and that was something that Ilya knew Shane couldn’t do without ending up resenting the child that hadcaused the end of his career. Ilya knew Shane well, he knew how practical and methodical Shane was. This was not some impulsive decision that Shane had made, he had thought about this thoroughly, and this was the best case scenario he had come up with. The only possible one, really, in Shane’s mind.
“So, you decided adoption was the best thing you could do?” Ilya desperately tried to keep himself together, to hide the trembling of his voice and the grief he felt after realizing that Shane’s ideal scenario didn’t include Ilya at all.
“Yes, it’s the only valid option. The only solution I could think of that would make everyone happy.”
Hearing it directly from Shane broke something in Ilya. He had barely been holding himself together, and the roller coaster of emotions he had been through during this conversation finally hit him as if he had been punched in the gut. It wasn’t just that Shane thought adoption was the best option, he thought it was the only option.
Shane didn’t even consider Ilya worthy enough to be a father to his child.
Ilya tried to repress the relentless waves of tears and despair that threatened to erupt on his face. He tried to tell himself that he should have been happy, that this was a well thought decision on Shane’s part, one that would ensure both Shane’s and the baby’s happiness. Surely a wonderful family would end up adopting him, and he would grow up being loved and cared for. But Ilya felt robbed. He hadn’teven known about the baby’s existence for a whole day, and he hadn’t even had the opportunity to prove that he could be worthy of being a father, before the very chance of being one was taken away from him. Ilya hated himself for being so pathetic. He hated himself for having believed, even for a second, that he could be with the man he loved and have a family together. He hated himself for foolishly thinking he was worthy of something as wonderful as that,for thinking he could be happy.
Ilya forcefully bit his trembling lips, trying to keep his face from expressing too much of his internal despair, but it was too late. The tears started flowing down with a vengeance,like a hurricane that couldn’t be contained. He was chocking, sobbing so hard that he couldn’t remember how to breath.
“What’s wrong?” Shane looked frantically at Ilya, completely at loss as to what had caused his sudden distress. He hugged Ilya tightly, cradling his head against his chest as he gently played with his hair and pressed soft kisses to his head. They stayed like that for a long moment,Ilya crying relentlessly and Shane patiently holding him, telling him that everything would be okay.
After what had felt like hours to Ilya, the flow of tears gradually stopped. The sadness furtively shifted to a hollow emptiness in Ilya’s heart. He docilely followed Shane to the bed when he was told to, feeling too tired to argue, too tired to even think anymore. He had shed all the tears his body could manage to produce.
He fell asleep almost instantly, with Shane still holding him tightly, as if he would fall apart again if Shane let go of him even for a moment. Ilya wasn’t convinced that he wouldn’t.