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Shane threw his head back into the pillows, exposing his throat as Ilya gripped his hips and thrust deep against his prostate. Their bedroom was full of the sounds and smells of sex: panting and moaning from Shane, grunted praise from Ilya, and the sweat-slick slapping as Ilya’s hips met Shane’s ass with every stroke. Their scents mingled in the air around them, and all Shane could think about besides deeper, more, and please was how good Ilya’s nest would smell when they were done.

“Ilya, I’m-” Shane stuttered out a whine, gripping the sheets with white knuckles, desperate to follow Ilya’s direction of no touching. “I’m so close, I can’t- Ilya-”

“I know, sweetheart. My pretty Alpha, you’re taking me so well,” Ilya said, moving his hand from Shane’s waist to his neglected cock. 

Shane practically screamed at the contact, tears springing up in his eyes.
“Please, come inside, please- please, I-”

“Mm, gonna come in you, gonna put a baby in you.” Ilya leaned forward, changing the angle of his thrusts slightly, as he slotted his teeth over the pretty mating mark on the side of Shane’s neck.

All of the sensation in Shane’s body became too much to bear—Ilya’s hand on his leaking cock, his bruising grip on Shane’s waist, the way Ilya’s teeth sank slightly into his neck to renew the bond they shared there, not to mention the way Ilya’s cock hit Shane’s prostate with every thrust and the promise tumbling from Ilya’s lips. Shane’s orgasm ripped through him; his eyes squeezed shut and his back arched up off the mattress as he spilled over Ilya’s hand and onto his own chest.

Ilya’s thrusts grew erratic before his movements stopped entirely. Even through his haze, Shane could feel Ilya’s cock pulsing within him, filling him in hot spurts. Ilya removed his teeth from Shane’s throat, carefully licking over the pinpricks of blood that rose to the surface. It barely bled anymore, what with how many times the skin around the mark had been broken and healed, but Shane still grinned at the feeling of his Omega taking care of him. He threaded his fingers through Ilya’s hair, dragging his face up so their lips met in a clumsy kiss.

Ilya stayed seated inside of Shane until his cock started to soften, then slowly kissed his way down Shane’s chest and stomach. He lapped at the drying come between kisses, and let out a pleased purr when Shane moaned. He dragged his hands over Shane’s hips until he found his inner thighs, and pressed lightly so Shane would open his legs wider. Ilya crawled backwards, leaving a feathery kiss on the tip of Shane’s spent cock, before leaning down to lick around Shane’s hole, collecting the come that had started to leak out before it could drip onto the sheets. Shane’s thighs started to shake with overstimulation. His breathing grew ragged as Ilya continued to clean him up, fresh tears threatening to spill from the corners of his eyes.

Shane sighed, snuggling deeper into Ilya’s nest. Absently, Shane felt Ilya press a parting kiss to his hole, followed by the mattress shifting. He grinned; his sweet Omega must be getting a warm towel to finish the job. He breathed in the scent of the pillows and sheets around him, replaying the events of the previous hour in his mind, until—

“Gonna put a baby in you.”

Shane gasped, his eyes flying open. He could feel his chin start to wobble as even more tears welled up in his eyes. This time, though, they were not tears of pleasure or overstimulation. The sudden feeling of despair, the agony that filled him at the thought of being unable to carry his and Ilya’s baby... Shane squeezed his eyes closed, as if the darkness behind his eyelids could protect him from the emotions.

A sob escaped Shane’s lips just as Ilya returned to the nest with a warm towel and a glass of water. Ilya was kneeling next to him in an instant, towel and glass placed haphazardly on the nightstand. Shane could feel the barest touch of fingertips grazing over his shoulders, chest, and up to the fresh mating mark.

“Sweetheart, are you hurt?” Ilya asked, his calming scent already cutting through Shane’s anguished thoughts.

Shane shook his head, not yet trusting his voice. He looked up at Ilya, and the concern on his mate’s face sent yet another wave of tears cascading over his cheeks. Shane sniffled, then reached toward Ilya to pull him into a crushing hug. He pressed his nose into the gland behind his ear and sobbed until his breathing returned to normal. Ilya held him and scratched lightly at his scalp and murmured reassurances in both Russian and English the entire time, loving and patient in equal measure.

When Shane was no longer heaving, just little sniffles now and again, Ilya pulled back to gently kiss his jaw, past his ear, up to his freckled cheek, and finally landed with a chaste kiss on his lips.

“I will wipe your stomach now, then we talk. Okay?”

Shane nodded, and laid still while Ilya gently ran the towel—which was more room-temperature than warm by then—over his chest and abs. He passed over Shane’s ass once to collect what he had missed previously before hanging the towel over the post at the foot of the bed. Shane bit his lip to keep from crying all over again. He hated when a wet towel ended up in the laundry pile, making everything musty.

Ilya climbed onto the bed, fixing the pieces of the nest that had been knocked askew before tucking himself into Shane’s side. He settled his head onto Shane’s chest and draped an arm over his waist. Shane’s hand found Ilya’s curls almost immediately. He tipped his head forward slightly to breathe in the scent of his hair, and felt the calming effect smooth the crease between his eyebrows and release the tension in his shoulders.

“You are ready to talk now?” Ilya asked gently.

Shane nodded against his head, and inhaled as if to speak but found he couldn’t force any words across his lips. Instead, he kissed Ilya’s hair as yet more fresh tears rolled down his cheeks, wetting Ilya’s curls.

“Are you hurt?” Ilya prompted.

“No, not hurt,” Shane said, grateful that he didn’t have to come up with words on his own.

“Sad, then?”

“A little.”

“Seems like a little more than ‘a little,’” Ilya teased gently, drawing a wobbly smile across Shane’s face.

“Yeah.”

“Is something I did? or said?”

“Kind of.”

“Well, which?”

“Said. And then did.”

They were both quiet while Shane hoped that Ilya would put it together himself, so he doesn’t have to admit that dirty talk sent him over the edge. Shane could almost feel the heat generated by Ilya’s brain working as he replayed everything he said and did during their evening together, looking through his memory for anything out of the ordinary.

“It was the baby thing?” Ilya’s voice was small when he asked.

He looked up at Shane from where his head was nestled between his pecs. Shane could kiss Ilya for how attentive he was—actually, he could kiss Ilya whenever he wanted and for whatever reason—so he tipped Ilya’s chin up to meet his lips halfway.

Shane nodded once they broke apart, cheeks burning, and pressed their foreheads together.

“I want...” Shane whispered into the space between their lips. It felt safe there. “I wish I could have your baby.”

“Oh, Shane, sweetheart.” Ilya pressed another kiss against Shane’s lips before shifting his body further up the bed, giving him a better position to more fully embrace Shane, who had started shaking slightly.

“And I know our... arrangement, our relationship is unique. And I love it, you know I can’t get enough of you. But I want to have a baby with you, and I can’t do it, and I didn’t realize how much that gutted me until you brought it up, but of course this isn’t your fault and I wouldn’t change anything about you, or how we do things, and-”

“Shane.”

His name on Ilya’s lips immediately derailed Shane’s train of thought. At some point during his rant Ilya had started purring again, and Shane pressed his ear to his chest, letting the soft rumbling consume what was left of his racing thoughts. A few thoughts weaseled their way through, though.

Namely, “I love you.”

“Sweetheart, I love you too. Nothing your body can or cannot do will change this, do you hear me?” Shane nodded against his chest. “I would love to have a baby with you.”

Great, now Shane was crying, again. He was surprised he had any moisture left in his body to spare.

“But I can’t-”

“Shh. Yes. But I can.”

Shane was silent. Then he sniffled. Then, “huh?”

“I have always thought, when I found a mate, I would like to have a baby. Yes, I do prefer, mm, giving, than receiving. But is all it is. Preference. You want to make a baby. I want to make a baby. We make it work. Yes?”

“Okay.” 

“Okay?”

“Yeah. I love you.”

Ilya peppered kisses across Shane’s forehead, purrs growing in intensity with each press of his lips.

“You want to shower? Or you want to sleep?” Ilya asked.

A shower sounded nice, but Shane would rather die than leave Ilya’s warm embrace in Ilya’s perfect nest.

“Sleep,” Shane mumbled, already halfway there.

***

“I made an appointment,” Shane said the next morning as Ilya wandered into the kitchen.

“Okay?” Ilya asked, still wiping sleep from his eyes.

Shane had already been up for over an hour, freshly showered and working on preparing their breakfast.

“A, uh. Family planning appointment.”

Ilya laughed, his sleepy eyes twinkling.

“You think we need an appointment? I tell you plan: we fuck. We make family. Easy.”

“Hey, if we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right. As your Alpha, it’s the least I can do. I’m not the one who has to do any of the actual hard work here.”

“Mmm, my Alpha,” Ilya murmured as he stood behind Shane, arms wrapping around his torso. “Okay, we will go plan the family. When?”

Shane chuckled. He loved when Ilya was too tired to respect the English language.

“Later this week, Thursday.”

They were both quiet while Shane mixed the batter for his high-protein, low-carb, low-sugar pancakes that Ilya ate because he loved Shane very much.

“Have you ever... y’know...” Shane trailed off, hoping Ilya would finish his thought for him again. Sadly, there was much less context to his question than there had been the previous night, so he was out of luck.

“Have I ever won the Stanley Cup? You already know this is yes.”

“That’s not-” Shane grumbled into the mixing bowl. “Have you ever been fucked?”

Ilya laughed, squeezing his arms around Shane’s waist.

“Yes, of course. But I... I thought something was wrong with me,” Ilya admitted. “What kind of Omega am I, not tripping over himself to get Alpha cock up his ass?”

“You didn’t like it?”

“It was fine. You know, my body is made for this.” Shane could practically feel Ilya’s eyes rolling against the back of his neck. “It didn’t hurt or anything. Just... didn’t light a spark in me the way I have learned it does for some people.”

Shane blushed lightly, knowing exactly what Ilya meant. He had definitely tried to be the Alpha he knew the world expected him to be when he presented two weeks before his NHL draft. He definitely left a few disappointed partners in his wake. That is, until he met Ilya.

“I get it,” Shane said, tapping his head against Ilya’s. “And you still want this? Our baby? I can cancel the appointment if-”

“Do not cancel appointment.” Ilya growled into Shane’s neck.

Thank god, Shane thought. 

“Thank god,” Shane said. “Jeez, I didn’t realize how much I wanted this until I said it out loud just now. But I mean, I know this is all happening pretty fast, I totally get it if you want to think about it a little lo-”

“I have wanted to have your baby since the first time you said your name to me, Shane Hollander.” Ilya whispered the words into the refreshed mating mark at the junction of Shane’s neck and shoulder.

“Oh.”

“Since first time I saw your freckles up close,” Ilya breathed, before he began pressing open-mouthed kisses to every bit of skin he could reach.

Shane dropped the whisk, barely registering the splat as it hit the countertop instead of falling into the mixing bowl. He stretched his neck to make more room for Ilya, and sighed happily as Shane felt the tip of his nose nudge over his scent gland. The sharp cold air and woodstove smoke of Ilya’s scent wafted in the air between them, combining with Shane’s ginger, clove, and vanilla to become one scent that just smelled like home.

Ilya’s half-hard cock pressed against Shane’s ass, and Shane scrambled to catch the edge of the counter before his knees gave out completely. Before he could fall, though, Ilya’s hands tightened around his waist. His fingers nearly lined up perfectly with the bruises he left the night before, and Shane whimpered at the reminder.

“N-not right now, Ilya,” Shane said, no matter how much it killed him. “These pancakes will not make themselves.”

“Okay fine, after pancakes then.”

“You’re this insatiable now, how are we going to survive your heat?” Shane joked, picking up the whisk and frowning at the mess on the counter.

“My what?”

Shane could feel Ilya’s spine straighten where he stood with their torsos pressed together.

“Well, I was doing some research while I was doing my cooldown on the treadmill this morning. Apparently, the best chance of pregnancy is on the first-to-third days of a heat, especially if the Omega is in heat and the Alpha is in rut. Plus, if you’re on heat suppressants, it’s almost impossible to get pregnant. In order to stop heats, the pills release pheromones to make your body think it’s always in pre-heat, so even if I did... y’know... inside, there’s a 99% chance nothing would happen. I’m sure the doctor will have more information when we talk to them, but I wanted to get an idea of what to expect.”

Shane could tell he was blushing after the information trade. He wasn’t sure when Ilya moved to lean against the sink, but he turned around to face his mate. As they’d gotten to know each other over the years, Shane had become used to seeing more than just practiced indifference etched into Ilya’s face. He reveled in every expression he could paint across his features, from the smile that rivaled the sun in megawatts, to the way his eyebrows knit together when he was trying to parse Shane's rapidfire English first thing in the morning or last thing at night. But what Shane found on Ilya’s face when he turned was something he had only seen once or twice in recent memory. It took a second to place it but... Ilya was scared.

“Ilya...” Shane started as he took the step and a half to close the distance and wrap him in a tight hug. “I love you. What’s wrong?”

Shane pretended not to notice the stray tears clinging to Ilya’s lower eyelashes, and tucked his head into the crook of Ilya’s neck. Shane’s scent permeated the air between them again, but this time with more prominent notes of clove, the spicy warmth seeping into the strained muscles of Ilya’s shoulders and relieving some of the tension there. The barely audible rumbles of Ilya’s purr satiated Shane’s Alpha’s need to soothe. He pulled back to look at Ilya’s face again.

“I... have not had a heat in... many years.” Ilya said. “Two months after draft, I present as Omega. Okay, this is not a big deal, I think. Plenty of Omegas have upstanding careers in NHL. But then, three months after presenting I have my first heat. I prefer not to remember this. The second I can walk on my own again, I am talking to team doctor to start suppressants.”

Ilya sniffled and tried to turn his head away from Shane’s gaze as the first tear fell in earnest, but Shane’s hands were too quick, already reaching up to brush it away. 

“I know this will not be the same as then,” Ilya said through a smile; a small smile, but still better than the alternative. “Now I have my big, strong, beautiful Alpha to take care of me. I want our baby, Shane. More than anything else. I promise, I am happy about this thing. But is... still a big change. Top to bottom is one thing. No heat for many years to having heat is...”

Ilya trailed off, but his purring grew louder the longer Shane held him. Shane rubbed his cheek over Ilya’s scent gland and was hit with the crisp, cold air of a winter night, and the faintest touch of smoke from a fire in the hearth.

***

Their family planning appointment went well. Shane was glad he brought a notebook, even though Ilya ribbed him about it the whole drive there and most of the drive home. They made a plan to wean Ilya off of his suppressants over the three months until Shane’s next rut, and the doctor patiently explained that he could start feeling the effects of a heat the next month, or maybe not until the pheromones were fully out of his system. Everyone’s body reacts differently, she’d said; it’s best to prepare for any outcome.

So, they waited. Ilya still fucked Shane, rechristening almost every surface in their house. Shane got a little brave one night while kneeling on the living room floor sucking Ilya’s cock. They’d barely gotten through the door after coming back from a rare dinner date when Shane sank to the floor and brought Ilya’s pants down with him.

It wasn’t long before Shane was lost in the familiar task of taking Ilya apart with his mouth. He let his fingers migrate from Ilya’s thighs to squeeze at his ass before brushing against his hole. It had been a little over two months since they’d begun this new journey together, and Ilya had yet to have the symptoms of a full heat, but his body was definitely... adjusting to the lower levels of pheromones in his system. Shane found evidence of one such example when his wandering fingers spread through the slick gathering at Ilya’s entrance.

Shane moaned around Ilya’s cock, took him to the hilt, and pulled off with a wet pop. He brought his hand up to eye level to investigate and sure enough, strings of slick connected his fingers as he spread them apart. Ilya let out a low whine as Shane made eye contact with his Omega and delicately sucked his pointer and middle fingers into his mouth.

“Shane...” Ilya ground out, his voice a reedy whisper. “You like?”

“So wet for me,” Shane said around his own fingers. He cleaned them off completely, making a show of dipping his tongue between each digit. “Taste so good.”

Ilya pulled Shane up from his knees by the back of his neck and their lips met in a filthy kiss. Shane immediately licked into Ilya’s mouth, desperate to share the taste of his slick, to kiss his Omega with his taste on his tongue; Shane quickly lost the rhythm of the kiss. He was too caught up in thinking about the sweet and smoky flavor that was fading from his mouth every second he spent with his tongue in Ilya’s mouth rather than...

Shane began kissing across Ilya’s jaw, down his neck and over his scent gland, dipping down to take a hard nipple between his teeth and tug in the way he knew would have Ilya making beautiful sounds above him. If he focused really hard, he could almost smell the fresh wave of slick brought on by his arousal. He licked a soothing stripe over Ilya’s bitten nipple before leaning back to take in his face.

“Can I... can I taste again?” Shane asked, looking up at Ilya through his eyelashes.

Ilya’s gaze darkened. “Of course, sweetheart.”

Shane immediately dipped his fingers between Ilya’s asscheeks, gathering as much slick as he could on three fingers. Ilya gasped when they grazed over his hole, his hands tightening where they gripped at Shane’s shoulders. Shane brought his fingers to his mouth again, plunging them into his mouth and humming happily as the flavor bloomed across his tongue. Ilya’s breathing was growing more ragged by the second. Shane was having trouble keeping his eyes from slipping shut as he dutifully cleaned his fingers. When he was finished, he presented his open mouth and tongue to show Ilya what a good job he’d done.

“Good boy,” Ilya said, giving into the obvious bait for praise. But who was he to deny his perfect Alpha anything?

“Please, Ilya, can I please have more?” Shane was fully whining and desperate for any taste of Ilya’s slick, eyes wet with the fear that Ilya would say no.

Ilya kissed Shane, who was so far gone with need he could barely kiss back, but boy, did he try. Shane opened his mouth against Ilya’s lips to let his Omega take control, making needy little noises when Ilya sucked on his tongue. Shane chased Ilya’s mouth as he pulled away.

“Wait one second, sweetheart,” Ilya said, extracting himself from where Shane was holding him tightly to his chest. “You can stand on your own? Good boy. Just wait, watch me.”

Shane whined at the command but obeyed, staying statue-still as he watched Ilya take a couple steps toward the closest wall. He turned to face the wall and rested his forearms against it, watching Shane over his shoulder as he hinged at the waist to present his dripping hole for his Alpha.

Shane’s nostrils flared as the scent of their shared arousal spiked in the air between them. His shoulders twitched with the need to run forward and bury himself between Ilya’s cheeks, but his mate’s gaze pinned him in place.

“Do you want?” Ilya asked.

“I want,” Shane said, a low growl escaping with the words.

“Then come and get.”

Ilya’s permission launched Shane into action, crossing the distance between them in a heartbeat. His hands found the crease of Ilya’s hips, where he dug his fingers into the muscle hard enough to bruise, before sinking to his knees again and drawing his hands down to rest on Ilya’s outer thighs.

The first pass of Shane’s tongue over Ilya’s slicked up hole was heaven. He moaned against it as he swallowed, causing another gush of slick to replace what Shane had just lapped up. This vicious cycle continued: Shane licking, humming, swallowing, and teasing mercilessly at Ilya’s hole while Ilya moaned out praises.

Eventually, Ilya grew impatient. Shane barely registered a slight shift in Ilya’s weight as he adjusted to holding himself up with one arm, and the other traveled backward so he could slip a finger into his hole. Shane pulled away to watch as the digit disappeared into Ilya’s opening.

“I didn’t- Ilya I’m so sorry I didn’t even-” Shane was babbling, just this side of incoherent as he was mesmerized by the display in front of him.

“‘s’okay, baby, I know,” Ilya grunted, getting used to the sensation.

Ilya slowly thrust his finger in and out a couple of times before Shane leaned forward once again to lap up the slick that had begun to drip down to Ilya’s balls. His tongue traced the back of his sack and up to meet the—now two fingers stretching his hole.

“Might as well practice, hmm?” Ilya asked.

Shane’s breath came in quick puffs of air through his nose. He made some kind of half-growl, half-moan from deep in his throat as his tongue slipped into Ilya’s hole beside his fingers. He pumped his tongue in time to Ilya’s thrusts a handful of times before Shane’s jaw went slack and his eyes squeezed shut and suddenly he was coming into his pants.

“Shane... did you just-” Ilya started, turning around and pulling his fingers out.

He went to wipe them on his shirt but thought better of it when he saw the look on Shane’s face. Instead, he carefully fed them into Shane’s mouth. Shane sighed happily as he worked to clean them.

“Your face is mess, Alpha,” Ilya said, a reverence in his tone as he used his slick- and spit-slicked hand to finally wrap around his cock. “I should add to mess, maybe?”

Shane’s eyes flew open and he nodded frantically.

“Mm-mm, use words, Shane.”

“Yes, please, need you, need your come, Ilya, please-”

Ilya’s face scrunched up the way Shane knew it did when he focused on chasing his own release.

“Please,” Shane whimpered, and Ilya came, shooting streaks over Shane’s cheeks and chin.

Ilya sank to the floor beside Shane, licking over his freckles to collect as much spend and slick as he could before pressing a filthy kiss to his lips. Ilya purred as they kissed lazily for a few minutes, gently coaxing Shane back from the place that allowed him to let go and beg so wantonly.

“Should I clean your face with my tongue or with towel?” Ilya asked playfully once the haze cleared from Shane’s eyes.

“Gross, Ilya. Towel, please,” Shane said, aware that his face was doing the angry-kitten thing Ilya fawned over.

Sure enough, Ilya departed with a quick kiss to the tip of his nose and a grin on his face. Shane sighed and waited for his perfect Omega to come back to take care of him, letting his mind wander to the weeks ahead. He just hoped he would be ready for Ilya’s heat when it finally arrived.

***

They didn’t usually have any use for a communal calendar in their house, because almost anything they needed to know was readily available on the shared calendar in their phones. But, Ilya had decided that the occasion was momentous enough that he bought a 40-by-70 centimeter calendar to hang on the fridge and draw all sorts of vulgar pictures to delineate the approximate first day of his heat.

Now, less than a week away, Shane was starting to panic a little over the implications of that day. Firstly, he’d never seen Ilya in heat before. Secondly, they’d never been affected by their cycles at the same time before. Thirdly, and perhaps the most distressing, Shane wasn’t sure if he was ready to be the “big strong Alpha” Ilya had mentioned him being. Their initial conversation was now three months in the past, but Shane had been replaying those words in Ilya’s accented voice almost nonstop the entire time.

Even the mention of “practice” during Shane’s first time eating Ilya out had been rattling around Shane’s subconscious thoughts like a pebble in an empty tin can. Sure, they’d done some more... practicing... since that first time, but nothing more than fingering. Ilya hadn’t asked to practice with the real thing, and Shane was never in the mindset during the throes to suggest it, so here they were.

Shane was standing in front of the calendar, staring at the stick figures of himself and Ilya in any number of compromising positions, one hand grasping the fridge handle. He’d forgotten what it was he had come out here for, lost in the same spiraling thoughts that consumed every waking moment for the better part of three months.

He was excited to take this step with Ilya. He wasn’t beside himself with the need to get his cock inside Ilya’s hole; not like Ilya was when it came to Shane’s hole. But he could admit there was a part of him, likely his Alpha’s most primal instinct, that was looking forward to it. If not the vehicle, per se, then the destination. The thought of seeing Ilya as his body grew and changed to accommodate their baby—their baby!—knowing he would have put it there did excite him. But could Shane be the big, strong Alpha Ilya was hoping he would be? Yes, Shane was strong. Over a decade of professional hockey did that to a person. But the Alpha part... Did Ilya expect him to take control like another Alpha might? Display his strength while he was fucking him?

Shane... wasn’t sure he had it in him. But he sure could give it the old college try.

With a sigh, Shane remembered the mission he was in the middle of: getting a glass of cold water for Ilya, who was using the last few days before his heat was due to start to perfect his nest. He had intercepted Shane after his morning workout three days in a row, demanding he hand over his sweaty shirt to add to the pile. There were a couple of old Voyageurs hoodies in there, which caused Ilya to turn up his nose at first, but he couldn’t deny that the worn out material with Shane’s scent practically baked in were perfect for the nest. Shane couldn’t pretend to understand the thought process behind other things that went into the space, nor the meticulous way Ilya had organized everything, but he could certainly bring him water when he asked.

As Shane filled the glass from the pitcher in the fridge, he remembered another thought that had been nagging at his thoughts. Would Ilya want Shane to mark him? It was something that Shane wanted to do. Finally, something both his conscious thoughts and his Alpha could agree upon. He wanted desperately to see Ilya with a mating mark to complement his own. An Omega’s teeth were naturally smaller than an Alpha’s, so Shane’s own mark was less dramatic than most others he had seen. He could barely begin to imagine the way Ilya’s beautiful neck would look adorned with Shane’s bite before he started to get a little weak in the knees. As far as Shane knew, the only reason Ilya didn’t have one yet was because... well, Shane wasn’t usually much more than a human-shaped bundle of pleasure by the time Ilya was coming inside of him. Even if Shane had the wherewithal to bite him, Ilya always beat him to it anyway.

By some miracle, Shane snapped back to himself just before the glass he was pouring began to overflow. He sipped a little off the top so he wouldn’t spill as he walked it back to their bedroom, and decided he would ask Ilya about the mating mark thing. He didn’t think it would be wise to bring it up for the first time when Ilya was already addled with his heat. He wanted everything about this to be perfect, and he could never live with himself if Ilya didn’t want a mating mark and only agreed to it because his brain was high off heat and pheromones.

Shane shook his head to clear his fears, and brought the glass of water to Ilya.

“Thank you, my love,” Ilya said after a refreshing sip, following up with an easy kiss on Shane’s cheek.

“Is it ready? Can we sit for a sec?” Shane asked, and perched on the edge of the nest at Ilya’s go-ahead.

Ilya placed the glass on his nightstand before joining Shane, resting a comforting hand on his knee.

“What is it, sweetheart?” Ilya asked.

“Would you want me to mark you? When we’re... doing it?”

“It? You are twelve? You can say you will be fucking me, this is how you make the baby, Shane. Is not a secret.”

Ilya’s tone was light, but the lack of a straightforward answer was... concerning.

“Okay, fine. When I’m putting a baby in you, can I give you a mating mark?”

Ilya made a deep keening sound that Shane had never heard before. He decided he would do anything he could to hear it again.

Between one breath and the next, Ilya had Shane pinned to the bed. He held both of Shane’s hands above his head with one of his own, and his thighs were pressing deliciously against Shane’s hips. Ilya dove in for a bruising kiss tongue first, barely even waiting for Shane to part his lips before licking into his mouth. They separated for a moment and Shane chased the sensation, pausing when Ilya started to speak.

“I love you,” he murmured in Russian against his lips, before, “Shane, please for the love of God, when you are putting baby in me, please give me a mating mark.”

Suddenly, Shane had a vague idea of why Ilya seemed to enjoy making him beg so much. It was absolutely music to his ears.

***

Four days later, Shane woke to the uncomfortable sensation of a sweat-soaked t-shirt clinging to his skin. He and Ilya had fallen asleep in their nest, freshly showered after a quick round of fucking before bed. They curled around each other as they did almost every night, so safe and comfortable that neither one of them shifted at all during the night.

Shane wrinkled his nose at the feeling of damp cloth shifting over his skin. Ilya usually ran pretty warm compared to Shane, but at that moment he felt as if he was cuddling the engine of one of Ilya’s sports cars after he came back from a drive. He carefully removed his hand from where it had been resting on Ilya’s waist to press the back of his hand to Ilya’s forehead, and sure enough, he was burning up.

Great, just what they needed: one of them coming down with a fever right when they were supposed to have one of the most important moments of their lives.

Shane sighed, shifting to leave the nest to get some flu medicine and a glass of water for when Ilya woke up. As he moved, though, Ilya’s grip turned into a vise around his waist.

And he whimpered.

Shane quickly scented the air around them, easily picking out his own scent and Ilya’s cold air and woodsmoke. But there was something else there; sweeter, almost syrupy, like roasting marshmallows over a fire.

Shane resisted the urge to smack his palm against his forehead.

You fool, Ilya doesn’t have the most inconveniently-timed flu in the world! This is, right now, the beginning of one of the most important moments of your lives!

Shane pressed a gentle kiss against Ilya’s scent gland. He was already starting to feel intoxicated by the new notes brought on by his heat. Dimly, he recalled asking the doctor something along the lines of, what if our cycles don’t start at the same time? and being told that one of them would start first, which would trigger the other’s cycle. Likely, the second cycle would start almost immediately because they were mated. Well, Shane thought. At least the clinic’s information was sound.

“Ilya,” Shane whispered, lightly shaking his shoulder. “Baby, wake up.”

Ilya groaned as he woke, scrunching his face against the warm sunlight streaming into their bedroom.

“Shane?”

“I’m here, moya lyubov',” Shane said, delighting in the sappy grin his clumsy Russian always brought to his mate’s lips. “Good morning.”

“G’mornin, moye solnyshko.” Ilya’s eyes fluttered closed. “Why... so sweaty..?”

Ilya buried his face between Shane’s pecs and inhaled deeply. He started purring, the deep and loud rumbling filling the otherwise quiet room.

“Smell... so good.” Shane could feel more than hear the words spoken into his sternum. 

Shane’s fingers traced up Ilya’s torso to land in his hair. He scratched mindlessly at his Omega’s scalp, content to hold and be held while Ilya shook off his sleep. Before long, a rumble from Ilya’s stomach joined the rhythmic in-out of his purrs, and he groaned as he pulled his head back to meet Shane’s eyes.

“Are you hungry?” Shane asked.

“Yes. No bird food,” Ilya demanded, and Shane laughed.

“Okay, love, no bird food. I think I can relax the rules for the next couple days.”

“Couple days?” Ilya asked. He was suspicious, but also seemed afraid Shane would change his mind.

“Ilya, babe. Your heat started,” Shane said, as gently as he could despite the excitement/fear/elation building in his chest. “You’re burning up, I can smell it, smells so fucking good, Ilya.”

That seemed to shake the last piece of sleep from Ilya’s brain. He let out a guttural sound, somewhere between a moan and a growl, before springing up and pinning Shane to the bed, one strong hand on each of Shane’s biceps and a knee shoved between his thighs. Apparently, his hunger for food was quickly and easily replaced with a far more intimate hunger. Their lips met, first in a tender and almost chaste kiss, so demure that Shane was taken aback. He expected much more fervor, maybe some desperation when Ilya was wrought with his most primal instincts. His usual teasing was a surprise.

Shane supposed that would teach him to try and fit his Omega in a box. 

Ilya grinned into the kiss, still hovering just shy of opening his mouth the way he knew by now that Shane craved. However, instead of giving in, he moved down to kiss Shane’s jaw and down to his neck, jumping back up to nibble at his earlobe and whisper what Shane recognized as some truly horny Russian phrases before continuing his journey. He made it all the way down to mouthing at Shane’s nipple through his sweat-soaked shirt before finally pressing his knee up into Shane’s crotch.

Shane’s back arched off the bed as a moan tore itself from his throat. He hadn’t realized how hard he had gotten just from a couple of grade-school kisses. A violent blush bloomed over his cheeks and down his neck, he was sure of it. The self-satisfied look in Ilya’s eyes confirmed the suspicion.

“Already so hard for me, Alpha,” he teased. “Imagine what it is like when we actually get started?”

“Should we?” Shane asked. “Should we try?”

“Yes, Shane Hollander. Give me this baby we have been going on about for months.”

Ilya shoved his thigh against Shane’s cock again, and held it there for Shane to grind on. He couldn’t move very far with his arms held down, but he made a valiant effort with the leeway he was given.

“Oh, Alpha, so desperate to do something with your cock,” Ilya tutted. “Silly rut drunk Alpha, this is not where cock goes.”

Despite the teasing, Shane couldn’t stop his movements. Maybe the teasing was actually making him more desperate for what little friction he could find against Ilya’s leg through too many layers of fabric. Shane jerked involuntarily in Ilya’s grip, suddenly too hot for the clothes on his body and itching to take them off. Blessedly, Ilya got the message, and dragged his hands over Shane’s torso to grab at the hem of his shirt. He slowly peeled it over his abs and chest, stopping momentarily for Shane to remember how to move his arms so he could get it over his head.

Once it was free, Ilya brought the shirt up to his face, inhaling deeply through his nose. His exhale was a contented sigh. Shane watched as he looked for a spot to add it to the nest, tucking it ceremoniously among the other shirts, hoodies, and blankets. Shane was powerless to move as Ilya repeated the process with the rest of his clothes: slow removal, then a long sniff, followed by its assimilation into the rest of the nest.

Finally, after what felt like an excruciating amount of time, Ilya reached back to pull his own shirt over his head. Shane made a happy chuffing sound at the sight, well aware that his cock visibly shared the same sentiment. Ilya noticed too, his eyes tracking the movement as it twitched and precome dripped onto Shane’s abs.

“You like?” Ilya preened.

“Obviously,” Shane said, desperation coloring his tone.

“Move toward headboard,” Ilya commanded. “Hands at your sides. Watch.”

Shane obeyed, scrambling to crawl backwards until his back hit the array of pillows that lined the edge of their nest. He sat with his back straight and legs open, his hands dutifully flat against the mattress at his sides.

He watched as Ilya gingerly stepped over the side of the bed and turned around. Ilya hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants and pulled them down, just far enough to expose his underwear-clad ass. And the wet spot that was forming as his slick leaked from his entrance. Every muscle in Shane’s body was fighting his base instinct to crawl forward, headfirst down the bed and bury his nose and tongue in the damp fabric, in favor of being good because Ilya told him to sit and watch and wait. Ilya continued to remove his sweats, bending at the waist to push them to the floor, stepping out of them and turning to face Shane.

“You want to taste?” He asked.

Shane nodded.

“Words. Rut drunk Alpha forgot how to use his words?”

“No- I mean yes, I- I want to taste, please Ilya,” Shane babbled.

“Good, Alpha,” Ilya praised. “Beautiful.”

Somewhere in the recesses of Shane’s rut drunk mind, he remembered the fear and uncertainty he’d felt about being Ilya’s big, strong Alpha. Somewhere, he recalled another word Ilya had used that day. 

“Beautiful,” Shane repeated.

He could be beautiful. He could be good. He could be everything Ilya, his Omega, wanted by just being himself: whining, begging, blushing in the way he knew drove Ilya crazy because it highlighted the freckles across his cheeks and down his throat.

Ilya made good on his promise to let Shane taste, but conveniently forgot to mention exactly what he would be tasting. He held his sweatpants up to Shane’s mouth, and Shane put everything he could muster into his glare.

“You want taste or no?”

Shane pouted, but opened his mouth so Ilya could drag the fabric across his tongue. It tasted like cotton, with the barest hint of Ilya’s slick, but even that was enough to have Shane’s eyes rolling back.

“Yes, so good, Alpha.” Ilya frowned. “But is not enough, I know.”

Ilya dropped the sweatpants just out of Shane’s reach before he turned and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs. If Shane could trust his memory, the slick stain had gotten bigger since the last time he’d seen it. He growled at the sight, a desperate thing, as Ilya turned to watch him over his shoulder. Slowly, so slowly Shane was impressed at Ilya’s self control, he peeled back his underwear, revealing inch by tantalizing inch of skin. Again, Ilya bent at the waist, but this time it was to give Shane a better view as the elastic finally made its way over the widest part of Ilya’s hips and his hole was on full display. If Shane thought there was a lot of slick a month ago, there was now a veritable ocean nestled between Ilya’s asscheeks. The scent made his mouth water. The visual to go with it was edging up on too much to handle. Shane closed his eyes and took slow, calming breaths through his mouth.

“Ah-ah, eyes on me,” Ilya scolded, and Shane’s eyes flew open.

He had to fight with everything he had not to immediately snap his eyes shut against the new sight in front of him. Ilya had let go of his briefs, opting instead to take his asscheeks in his large hands and pull them apart. Slick was dripping from his hole and down his inner thighs to collect in his briefs, which were straining against Ilya’s thighs as he spread his legs slightly.

Shane let out a sound that was half moan, half growl. His hands fisted at the blankets on either side of his legs, and his cock was twitching and spilling precome.

“Now, you want a taste?” Ilya asked. “Be specific this time, Alpha.”

“Wanna, wan’ taste. Please, Ilya,” Shane babbled. “Want your slick-soaked panties.”

A deep whine escaped Ilya’s throat, and another wave of slick spilled from his hole.

“G-good boy,” Ilya said.

As an especially good boy, Shane refused to acknowledge the way Ilya’s voice broke around the praise.

Ilya stripped off his briefs and used them to wipe up the excess slick between his cheeks. (There would certainly be more where that came from.) He folded them delicately and took a couple steps toward Shane, whose mouth was already open and waiting for his prize. Ilya was reverent as he placed his underwear inside. Shane closed his eyes to bask in the flavor and the feeling of being full, even if it was only a piece of fabric.

He hummed, temporarily satiated, and his eyes drifted open again to find Ilya kneeling next to him, knees apart and his hand between his legs, collecting slick. Ilya dragged his hand over his own cock once, just enough to send a shiver up his spine, before using the same hand to squeeze one of Shane’s pecs. The slick cooled slightly against his skin. His nipple hardened, and Ilya rolled it between his fingers before doing the same to the other side. Finally, Ilya collected more slick on his fingers, and wrapped his hand around Shane’s cock.

Shane cried out around the underwear in his mouth and tears sprang to the corners of his eyes at the sensation. He nodded, not even sure what he was saying yes to because Ilya didn’t actually ask him anything, but his perfect Omega understood anyway and began moving his hand up and down his length, twisting and squeezing exactly how Shane would’ve done it himself. In no time at all, Shane was a writhing, crying mess.

Ilya was watching him intently, and pulled his hand away just before Shane could come. Shane whined at the loss, but was ultimately grateful that Ilya saved him from blowing his load too early. Ilya leaned down to place a kiss on Shane’s forehead as he kicked one leg over to straddle Shane’s hips. He took Shane’s hand where it was still balled into a fist at his side and gently coaxed his fingers open. Then, Ilya guided his hand back until their fingers brushed against his hole. Shane’s breath caught when he felt it flutter at the touch, and again when Ilya pressed both of their pointer fingers into his hole at the same time. The abundance of slick made the glide easy, and two fingers almost felt like nothing. They pumped their fingers in and out in tandem, before adding one more each.

Ilya groaned and ground down on their hands, finding his voice again to ask Shane, “You are ready?”

Shane’s eyes widened, nodding frantically as their fingers slid out with another wave of slick. Ilya took a deep breath in through his nose, grabbed Shane’s cock to line it up, and exhaled through his mouth as he sank down on it in one fluid motion.

Shane’s world stopped turning. Sure, he’d gotten his fair share of blowjobs in his time as Ilya’s mate, and before that when they were boyfriends, but that could never compare to the feeling of Ilya’s walls around him. He gasped as Ilya adjusted, finding a comfortable position to wait while Shane regained his bearings.

“Good, Alpha,” he praised, “you’re doing- doing so well.”

Shane grunted in response, his shoulders relaxing in increments as Ilya continued to talk him through it.

“You feel so good, Shane, mmm- perfect Alpha cock, exactly what I needed, yes, baby...”

One more shaky inhale through Shane’s nose, and he gave a nod to signal that Ilya could move. He raised himself slowly, grabbing Shane’s biceps so he wouldn’t lose his balance on his already shaking thighs, and slid back down until Ilya’s ass met Shane’s thighs. Shane nodded again, and Ilya repeated the motion, but a little faster this time. They went back and forth like this until Ilya was steadily riding Shane’s cock. Ilya’s cheek fell to Shane’s shoulder, grounding himself by breathing in his scent and teasing his teeth over Shane’s mating mark, the collection of scars pale against the otherwise flushed skin.

Suddenly, Shane’s breath hitched as he felt extra resistance against Ilya’s hole. Ilya lifted his head to meet Shane’s wide, tear-rimmed eyes.

“You are surprised, Alpha?” He asked. “You have all this in your lap, and you are surprised you have knot?”

Shane tried to respond, but quickly grew frustrated at the obstruction still in his mouth. Ilya took pity and removed the underwear, tossing it somewhere over the edge of the nest.

“Can I, nnmmm, can I please-” Shane gasped.

“Please what?”

“Knot, please, wanna give you a baby, wanna knot you, Ilya please, I-”

Ilya slowed, stopping right above the top of Shane’s knot. He pretended to consider for a moment.

“Of course, Shane, yes. Give me baby, give me knot.”

Shane’s hips bucked upward of their own accord, meeting Ilya as he sank down. His knot stretched Ilya’s entrance and pulled a moan from deep in Ilya’s chest, but then it was in.

“C-can I touch you now, please?” Shane asked shyly.

Ilya guided Shane’s hands to rest on his hips. Shane’s fingers dug into the flesh as Ilya continued to grind down onto Shane’s cock. They kissed, neither quite sure who leaned in first.

“Gonna come,” Shane mumbled against Ilya’s lips.

“Come for me,” Ilya agreed.

Shane broke the kiss to tip his head to the side, seeking out the spot where the mating mark should go. He released deep inside of Ilya and sank his teeth into the junction of his neck and shoulder, riding out the longest orgasm he’d ever had in his life. Shane was distantly aware of Ilya jerking himself off over Shane’s abs, and briefly left the planet when he felt Ilya’s hole contracting around his cock as he came.

His consciousness returned to their nest to the sound of Ilya purring and whispering sweet praises as he lazily kissed over his face. 

“Mm, Ilya,” Shane mumbled happily, rubbing his hands in small circles over Ilya’s lower back, like Ilya often did for him when their positions were reversed. “Love you.”

“Love you, too, Shane,” Ilya said, “moye solnyshko.”

Carefully, so no one got too overstimulated—yet—Ilya leaned forward to rest against Shane’s chest until his knot went down.

“Our baby is going to be so beautiful,” Shane said, half asleep already. “Y’take my knot so well, Ilya. Was fun.”

“Mmm, sleep now, moya lyubov,” Ilya replied, content that his heat was satisfied for the time being. “Will need another in a few hours.”

And if that one didn’t work, they had another few days to keep trying again.