Work Text:
Shane shifted in the leather seat, incredible uncomfortably, for what felt like the millionth time.
Despite his persistence, that was coated heavily in a solid amount of pure desperation, no position was comfortable these days and that was largely due to the fact that he was 8 and a half months pregnant and feeling achy and miserable every second.
Having a baby right now hadn’t even remotely been on their radar, hadn’t been a part of his meticulously, well thought out plans that Ilya always made his mission to upend somehow with his chaos. But after what they thought was a flu had knocked him around more than usual, and the team doctor had ordered blood tests, their lives had completely changed in a split second. And so here he was, mere weeks away from giving birth after which point their lives would never be the same again.
He’d been terrified, first and foremost, especially in those early days when they’d found out, many months into the pregnancy. It had settled down into a rumble of worry as they realised Shane had been playing hockey for months with their precious cargo tucked away underneath his skin, and he’d been panicked about what that could mean and if he’d hurt them. And then buzzing underneath all of that, had been a current of doubt that he was even capable of being a good parent and if they were even ready for this.
But every time he looked at Ilya and saw the steady softness and love in his eyes, he couldn’t help but melt into the warmth and excitement of it all.
He thinks he could probably live forever in the way that Ilya looked at him then, and even more so now— the way he handled him so carefully, loved him so easily. If Ilya could keep looking at him like that, then maybe, he thinks, they’d be okay in the end.
But he’d been missing those eyes lately, missing the large strong hands that wrapped him up safely and the perfect man that came with them.
Ilya would of course take leave when the baby came, but they’d decided that until then he was going to keep playing hard on the team, trying to make up for the loss of Shane this season.
The team had already been on the road for over a week, hitting up New York, Buffalo and now Toronto and despite the fact that his parents had been keeping an eye on him, Shane was going crazy without Ilya. Like actually crazy.
He’d never felt this horny, this desperate, this deprived of Ilya in his life. It had been years since they’d been away from each other for this long and he isn’t even sure now how they managed to do it all before.
Which is how he found himself sitting in the back of a sleek black car, sore and restless, and unable to find a good position as someone else drove him all the way to Toronto where the Centaurs would be for a few days.
He would have driven himself and was pretty confident he could still fit behind the wheel, but he knows both Ilya and his mom would have ripped into him if he’d actually done that.
So instead he’d called the car service they sometimes used, handing over his credit card before they even confirmed the price of the extremely last minute ride. He honestly didn’t care how much it would cost, and that he’d have to pay the return trip for the driver as well— he just needed to see Ilya, so so desperately.
“Do you mind if we turn up the air a bit more please?” Shane asked, fanning himself off a little and the driver, Jason, nodded immediately.
“Of course, let me know if it’s still too warm though,” He replied, eyes staying trained on the road as he adjusted the air temperature. “We’re only about 30 minutes out now.”
Thank god, Shane sighed, already realising that his bladder was starting to make itself known again. He was kicked a little sharply in the side as another reminder, and his hands immediately found the culprit, running soothingly over the hard swell of his stomach that little feet were pressing into.
He’d tried to not feel too embarrassed every time he’d asked for them to stop so he could relieve himself, but Jason had complied easily, never making it seem like an inconvenience, and Shane was grateful. He vowed to give him a very generous tip for making their 4 hour trip even longer.
“We’ll be there soon baby, we’ll have him in our arms soon.” He murmured to himself and to the little one nestled safely inside, hoping it brought them as much comfort as it did him. He knows it’s crazy, but just as he claims to Ilya that the baby had certain cravings for certain foods— the baby also craved Ilya’s presence as much as he did.
As if summoned straight from his thoughts, his phone started buzzing with an incoming facetime request from Ilya. Shane panicked and declined it immediately. If he answered, Ilya would know that he was in a car, and not theirs or Yuna and Davids, and then he’d have to explain where he was and he just needed to hang on a little longer.
Hey sorry just catching up with Rose, won’t be long though, will call you soon? ❤️
Yeah, that was pretty convincing, surely?
Ilya’s response was immediate in a series of emojis, something he’d started doing a lot of lately, as if he’d only just discovered them…like really discovered them beyond just a simple smiley face or love heart.
Unfortunately though, they often made very little sense, and Shane was certain they sometimes were chosen just because Ilya liked the look of them in the moment. Like right now, where a bear emoji was followed by a bowl of noodles, floret of broccoli, a person doing a cartwheel and a fish.
Might need you to explain some or all of those choices 😅 talk to you soon. I love you.
Shane sat back, and tried to settle a bit more as a little someone decided to start doing somersaults inside of him.
I love you more, is the response that came through and Shane couldn’t wipe the grin off his face the rest of the drive.
When they arrived, Shane fished out his wallet and handed over a decent wad of cash to Jason who looked delighted, wishing him well as he heaved himself out of the car and grabbed his bag. He waddled, yes actually waddled, into the hotel, his legs stiff and cramped from the long car ride.
“Holzy?”
Shane turned slowly and was met by Troy and Harris coming up behind him, having just jumped out of an Uber themselves.
“Oh, heyyy guys.” He tried to act super casual, like it wasn’t a weird thing for him to be entering their hotel, in a different city to where he was supposed to be, while the team was on the road, when he wasn’t even on the roster for the foreseeable future.
“Oh my god, look at you!” Harris bounded forward, face breaking out in a brilliant smile as he took in Shane and the obnoxiously large stomach he now possessed. It had been a number of weeks since he last saw the team beyond Ilya and he’d well and truly expanded quite significantly since then.
Shane huffed good naturedly, a hand coming up to ease into the small of his back— a vain attempt to ease the never ending ache. “Yes, I legitimately feel like a whale.”
Harris smiled at him kindly. “You’re not a whale. You’re just growing a human.”
“What are you doing here?” Troy sidled up, hand coming around Harris’s torso, his bright eyes creased in concern at the sight of him here. “Are you okay?”
Shane nodded immediately, waving off any concern, because he didn’t need it. “Yes, totally okay. I just…I uhhh…well you see…..okay look, I just really missed Ilya.”
Harris and Troy shared a knowing look.
“He misses you like crazy too.” Troy replied, his face cracking into a friendly smirk. “Kind of won’t shut up about you.”
“I thought a few days while you guys were here wouldn't be too crazy. Because I was pretty legitimately going crazy stuck at home without him, and so I got a car service to drive me here because I can't fly and I know he’d kill me if I drove myself, and I know this is crazy but I…damn I just needed him, you know?”
Normally a long sentence like that would have winded him, so he was surprised when he was able to get through it fine, his lungs clear and full for the first time in a while. It was enough to distract him from the embarrassing rambling trip he’d just taken them on.
“Well then,” Harris took his bag and handed it to Troy, before threading his arm through Shanes and leading him forward. “Let’s get you to your man then.”
“Uhh Shane,” Troy asked as he followed along behind, bag slung over his shoulder easily. “Does he know that you’re here?”
“Nope.” Shane shook his head and Harris laughed. “I’m hoping my presence will overshadow the fact that he thinks I should be resting 100% of the time. I think he’d tie me to the bed if he could.”
“Don’t think we needed to know that.” He heard Troy mumble and Shane felt his cheeks burn.
They finally arrived at a room on the 18th floor and Shane felt the baby kick up a storm as his anxiety reached a whole new level, knowing how close he was to Ilya now.
“Harris! What can I-” he started as he opened the door, trailing off abruptly when he finally clocked who else was standing with Harris.
Ilya stood there, in nothing but low slung sweats, his stupidly cut torso on full display, and Shane had to actively clamp his mouth shut to stop himself drooling.
Ilya just stared at him, mouth open, aghast, and Troy glanced uneasily between him and Shane, probably trying to decide if he needed to leap in and protect the pregnant man from the Russian, who was looking like he could either be raging under the surface or just shocked beyond belief. Knowing him though, Shane felt he was probably oscillating between the two.
“Shane?” Ilya's voice was low and dangerously steady.
“Hi,” Shane's voice broke in betrayal before he promptly burst into tears as it suddenly was all too much.
Seeing Ilya, finally seeing him after several days apart just ripped him right open where he stood. It was like he could finally breathe again.
Any anger that may have been harbouring inside Ilya was abolished immediately as he pulled Shane into him, his strong arms wrapping around him like they were a part of him, like they were always meant to be linked like this.
Shane thinks he hears Troy or Harris say something behind him, and Ilya murmuring something in response before he maneuvered the two of them inside, the door shutting quietly behind with a soft click. One of Ilya’s hands migrated to the nape of his neck, the other running soothing circles across the plane of his back as Shane continued to sob into his chest, everything he’d been feeling these last few days finally pouring out of him.
“Moya Lyubov.”
It was whispered so gently in his ear that it only made him cry a little harder.
“Shane, what is wrong?” Ilya continued after a few more moments. “Please tell me.”
“I….” Shane hiccuped. “I…just…really…fucking…. missed…you.”
He felt Ilya's body shake with laughter then and Shane’s face scrunched up indignantly.
“Don’t…laugh…at…me.” He cried through each word. He knew he sounded crazy, but he also didn’t really have a lot of control over it at the moment— his hormones were just too wild for him to handle right now.
“Oh sweetheart.” Ilya eased him back so they could look at each other, and if Shane had been in a right state of mind, he might have thought to wipe away the tears and snot, but he didn’t, instead snivelling all pathetically in his husband's arms. “I missed you so much too.”
Shane smiled then, large, hot tears rolling down his cheeks at the admission, and Ilya reached up to swipe them away with his thumbs.
A large roll and firm kick to his bladder had him grunting audibly, a hand flying to his stomach in surprise. Ilya’s eyes widened in worry but Shane waved him off, hand smoothing around to his back to try and ease the heavy load that was pulling more pressure down to his pelvis as the days went on.
“Are you okay?” Ilya asked anyway, hands reaching for his stomach and Shane melted into his touch.
“We’re okay,” Shane nodded, head dropping forward onto Ilya's shoulder. “Better now to be here with you.”
“You’ve dropped,” Ilya murmured into his hair. “So much bigger than last week already.”
Shane huffed out a laugh. “I know exactly how big I am, I don't need the reminder thank you very much.”
“You’re perfect, I just mean you’ve grown…they’ve grown. I missed so much in a week.” Ilya sounded a little sad, his voice all wet with emotion.
“I’m here now.”
“You worried me-” Ilya started but trailed off as Shane stepped back, his body reminded him what he needed.
“Just, hold that thought I just need to—” he quickly, well as quickly as one could waddle in such a state, made his way to the bathroom.
When he returned, Ilya had settled down on the end of the King size bed, waiting for him. He sprang to his feet when Shane got closer and helped ease him down as well, a groan coming out long and pained as Shane sat down into the soft mattress.
“Oh my god, that feels good.” He sighed, and Ilya merely smiled tightly, moving to ease off his shoes. Shane thinks he’s a saint when he doesn't even comment on the fact that his sneakers weren’t even close to being tied, merely slipped on. Tied laces were just beyond his capabilities these days.
Shane shifted up onto the bed a little more, with all the grace of a baby hippo, plopping down onto the propped up pillows that Ilya had just assembled for him. He rested back into the softness of it all and felt his body ease.
Ilya crawled up onto the bed beside him, hand splaying out carefully across his stomach, face cracking into a brilliant smile as his efforts were rewarded by another impressive roll. “Oh, hi baby.”
“We missed you,” Shane smiled wetly at him, tears brimming in his eyelashes again, threatening to fall. “I know I'm meant to be resting, but I was going crazy without you, please don’t be mad.”
Ilya glanced up at Shane when he said this, the smile he’d had for their child falling into something far too soft for Shane to handle.
“I’m not mad, just….worried,” he sighed. “God, I've missed you so much though. Missed both of you, more than I’ve been able to admit.”
Shane sniffed back the tears as Ilya’s voice cracked a little. He reached out to run a hand through his golden locks, feeling his body settle more and more with every passing second he had his husband's hands on him.
“I can’t help but feel worried about you,” Ilya continued, pulling Shane's hand down to press a kiss into his palm. “You’re precious cargo right now. But I need to ask, how did you get here exactly?”
“Umm…I got a car service to drive me.”
Ilya's eyes widened again, his jaw clenching shut tightly as he tried to fight back whatever anger was trying to bubble up inside. He let out a long sigh, before pressing another kiss to Shane’s palm. “Okay, that’s a long trip, how are you feeling?”
“Sore,” Shane admitted, knowing he wouldn’t be able to lie to Ilya about this. “But honestly everything hurts these days regardless, so that’s not exactly new.”
“Everything huh?” Ilya smirked now. “Can you be more, what's the word… specific?”
Shane huffed, shifting a touch to ease his back. “Well, my back, definitely. The car was comfortable but it was… you know, a long drive. And there’s a solid amount of pressure in my pelvis right now, and weirdly, even though I haven’t been on my feet, they ache like I've been standing up for days. And then I feel like I have a gross travel smell on me and I’m weirdly super hungry for a massive burger and I really, really, really need you to kiss me, like right now… please?”
Shane knew he’d completely deviated from the “what hurts” question but he was beyond caring. Ilya merely laughed and crawled over, straddling across his lap carefully as he crowded into his space, pressing his lips firmly into Shane's.
Shane made a sound he wasn’t too proud of at the touch, his dick jolting a little in response to his husband kissing him. Ilya reached down and gave it a few tender strokes through his pants and Shane moaned a little more in between gasps of air and feverish kisses.
“I can fix many of these things, some sooner than others.” Ilya murmured into his cheek as he began peppering kiss after kiss across his freckled cheeks. “I think perhaps we will start with a shower, or…this hotel has very nice, large bathtub with jets?”
“God yes,” Shane gasped out as Ilya started on his neck, forcing Shane to tilt his head back and expose the soft skin completely, his body shuddering in delight as Ilya sucked the skin into his mouth gently, teasingly.
He almost cried out with loss of contact when Ilya finally dragged himself off the bed, but he was quickly and carefully heaved up beside him. Ilya shucked his sweats immediately and Shane tried to focus on the task at hand instead of the fact that his husband had opted out of wearing any underwear that evening.
Ilya brushed his hands out of the way as they fumbled at his hem, and took over undressing him, pulling the sweater away carefully, his hands running back down over the large swell of his stomach to the waistband of his very stretchy sweats.
“Come, let me take care of you now baby.” Ilya held out a hand to him and Shane took it greedily, allowing his husband to pull him towards the large bathroom.
Two hours later, Shane lay back in bed on the cusp of sleep as Ilya massaged his feet.
Despite their feverish start, they’d engaged in a very languid and drawn out session in the warm water, taking their time with each other like they had forever and a day.
Once they were full of nothing but sweet bliss and Ilya had cleaned and worshipped every inch of Shane, they’d ordered room service and settled back to watch a movie.
“I still can’t believe you’re here.” Ilya huffed out a small chuckle as he finished with his feet and tucked him into bed.
“I’m sorry…I just needed you. I love you so much.” Shane mumbled, his brain all addled and fuzzy. “Please don’t be mad…with us.”
“Spi spokoyno, lyubov' moya” Ilya murmured as he slid into bed and Shane tucked himself into his side, sighing as Ilya's hands came around him protectively. “ya tozhe tebya lyublyu.”
Sleep well my love. I love you too.
*
“Are you sure you will be okay?” Ilya asked for the 17th time and Shane rolled his eyes.
They’d spent the day together mostly in bed, ordering more food and just enjoying their time with each other. Ilya wanted Shane to do nothing but rest, and honestly, he was happy to comply as long as he had Ilya by his side.
Now though, Ilya was meant to be in the changeroom with the team, getting ready for the game against the Toronto Guardians.
“Yes! Now go, the team is waiting for you,” He shoved lightly as his husband. “Harris and I are going to watch from the box and you’re going to score a dozen goals for us.”
“A dozen huh?”
“Yup, a dozen, I won’t accept any less.” The twinkle in Shane's eye seemed to ease some of the tension that had settled between Ilya’s eyebrows.
Ilya glanced over at their social media manager and fixed him with a look that said something along the lines of ‘look after them with your life or else.”
Harris, unbothered by the intense Russian stare he was receiving, merely smiled brightly. “We’ll keep each other company Ros, don't worry about a thing.”
“Fine,” Ilya finally sighed and pressed a kiss to Shane's cheek before jogging off to the guest changeroom where the rest of The Centaurs were already getting dressed for warmup.
Shane shook his head in wonder. “I swear, you’d think I was made of glass or something.”
“My sister's husband was the exact same way when she was pregnant.” Harris shrugged easily, his expression still warm and understanding as he led them through the stadium and towards the spectators box the team had set aside.
“How are you feeling though?” Harris asked as they settled into the plush box seats.
“Grateful to not be sitting in one of those hard plastic stadium seats right now, I'll tell you that.” Shane exhaled, wincing as his back still twinged with a flash of pain. “Honestly, everything just kind of aches right now.”
Harris screwed his face up in sympathy. “I’m sorry, it must be exciting though, to be so close. Or terrifying maybe?”
If it was anyone else, Shane may have hated the way that had been phrased. Of course it was terrifying, fuck how could it not be?
But this was Harris, the most understanding and kind person he’d ever met. So it wasn't a poke at the inevitable, it was a genuine question of solidarity, of understanding for this situation they were in.
“Both.” Shane smiled over at him, eyes shining. “I mean you guys know, it was very much a surprise. And though I know with all my heart that Ilya was made to be a father, for a very long time I had real doubts about myself.”
“What, seriously?” Harris cocked his head. “Don’t listen to that head of yours. You’ll be a wonderful father Shane.”
“Thank you.” Shane replied genuinely. “I think with Ilya by my side, and us as a team, then yes… I truly hope to be.”
“Well I for one can’t wait to help spoil the heck out of them.” Harris stood to take some footage of the team skating, getting ready for the puck to drop.
Shane sat back, hands caressing the swell of his baby as he smiled at this, knowing that the entire team was going to go overboard, no doubt about it. “Have you and Troy talked about kids?”
A small smile spread across Harris’s face as he continued to take photos and videos. “We have, and it’s definitely on the table for us, a bit further down the track though. I think I'd like to be married for a few years first. I….I think he’s actually going to propose soon.”
“Really!?” Shane squeaked. “How do you—”
But Shane cut himself off with a grunt of pain as a strong, hot throb pulsed through him.
“Shane?”
Shane lifted his head, only now realising that he’d hunched in on his stomach, to see Harris turned back towards him, eyes sharp with concern.
“I’m okay.” He waved him off, trying the best he could to regulate his breathing down to a respectable state. Okay…that was weirdly intense. Probably Braxton Hicks, which his doctor said could happen at any time now. He wasn’t sure he was ready to put up with this over the coming weeks if it was this intense.
He tried to ignore the glances that Harris kept shooting his way as the first period got underway, hoping that the crowd cheering would be enough to mask the fact that Shane was hit a few more times by the same pain.
He isn’t too sure how much of the game he was absorbing as he clenched his teeth and fought like crazy to keep a blank face. He tried to concentrate as Haas made a breakaway for the goal and Ilya was close by his side ready to assist, but it all blurred into a daze of pain, and by the time they entered the 3rd period, he was really having issues hiding it.
“Shane?”
“Hmmm?” He tried to smile up at Harris but failed miserably.
“Buddy, I think we should go get you checked out?” Harris’s voice was quiet and close, like he was trying to not make it a big deal, like Shane was a wild animal on the verge of being spooked, and the softness of it all made him want to cry. God he was a mess these days.
“I’m totally fine, it’s just false contrac—” He had to stop speaking though as he groaned. When it subsided several moments later he exhaled deeply. “—False contractions. Just annoying and all part of the fun you know.”
“I don’t know.” Harris raised an eyebrow. “You’re gripping the arm of the chair so tightly I'm worried you’re going to break it. And I don’t think Braxton Hicks are actually meant to hurt right? I remember my sister telling me about them, and you look like you are in a decent amount of pain?”
Oh…yeah his doctor had said that actually. Curse his pregnancy brain.
Well shit.
“No—” He shook his head quickly. “No, I'm fine, I promise.”
“Shane…”
“Ilya will be so mad.” He shook his head again. “No, I'm not in labour, I promise you. I can’t be. I’m not due for a few weeks. And we’re meant to be in Ottawa with my doctor, and my mom and no Harris, you don't understand. I can’t be in labor."
A few tears streaked down his cheeks now as he felt the familiar painful sensation tighten around his stomach. The crowd was rowdy and wild, deafening in their cheers as he sat there, wrapped in pain and trying to breathe through it.
“Shane.” A warm hand touched his shoulder. “Let’s go find Ilya.”
“But the game.” He found himself mumbling incoherently as Harris helped him up and guided him to the box’s door.
“It’s a few minutes out from finishing, the team will be piling back into the changeroom by the time we get down there.”
Harris was a similar height to Shane, and though not a buff hockey player, was strong in his hold around him, guiding him safely through the hallways that were not yet crowded with the post game chaos.
As they got down to the depths of the stadium where the changerooms were, Shane suddenly felt a surge of panic. He flung out a hand in front of Harris and brought them to an abrupt halt.
“Nope, I can't go in there…Harris, he was so worried about me already and now….God he’s going to be so mad that I came here and that this has happened and no, maybe I just sit somewhere and wait it out and—”
“Shane!” Harris stood in front of him to get his attention. He rarely was someone who raised his voice that it made Shane stop in surprise. “He’s not going to be mad at you. And I don't think you can help the worry. He loves you.”
Instead of taking him to the changeroom though, Harris steered him towards an empty trainers room to the side, guiding him down onto the massage table in the middle.
“Just stay here for a moment, I'll go get him.” Harris held out his hands like he was Chiron, eyes wide in command and Shane merely nodded in response, feeling wrung out already.
As he waited, he whimpered through a few more contractions, desperately wanting to be in Ilya’s arms, despite his argument from mere minutes ago.
“Shane!?”
Ilya came bursting through the door, a hurricane of energy. His feet were bare apart from his thick game socks, like he’d chucked his skates off and bolted through the corridor in reckless abandon, not even stopping to strip the rest of his gear.
“Hi.” Shane said miserably, barely able to meet his eyes as Ilya came to him immediately, positioning himself in between his legs.
“Harris said you have been having contractions.” Ilya grabbed his face gently between his hands, eyes tracking across him, as if searching for any trace of pain.
Shane nodded the best he could. “I think so. I’m sorry.”
Ilya shook his head in amazement. “Fuck, don’t apologise. This could have happened while you were home alone in Ottawa and I was here.”
“But what if I…what if coming here is what made it happen.” Shane choked back a little sob before quickly doubling over, eyes scrunching up in pain as his body tensed.
He sank forward into Ilya's padded chest, his husband's strong arms rubbing around his back in circles as he rode it out. When it finally subsided he pulled back a little, but Ilya’s arms stayed close.
“It doesn't matter.” Ilya tucked a few stray hairs out of Shane’s face. “None of it matters. It’s happening, and you’re here with me.”
“I’m scared.” Shane blubbered a little, and he noticed even Ilya's eyes were glistening, threatening to spill over at any moment.
“Yes, it’s scary. Us as parents…who’d have thought.” Ilya said gently, playfully. “But you are brave. And we will do this together. Well not the birthing part, that’s all on you. But I will be there right beside you, and everything else…together.”
Shane laughed then, the tension in the room easing for a split second before he doubled over in pain once more, forehead hitting Ilya’s padded chest hard. Arm wrapped around him immediately as he breathed through it, strong fingers digging into the planes of his shoulders soothingly.
“Ilya,” He moaned when it finally subsided and he slumped, boneless, further into his husband's arms. “Fuck it hurts.”
“I’ve got you.” Ilya’s hands petted through his hair reassuringly and he forced Shane to breathe with him for a few moments. “But I think we should probably go get you checked out, yes?”
Shane nodded miserably into his chest.
“Okay Moya Lyubov”
He allowed Ilya to lift him to his feet but clenched onto Ilya’s arm as he felt something inside release unpleasantly– like a slow puncture to a water balloon. He felt the liquid run down his pant leg and seep into his shoes and socks before pooling out around his feet.
“Uhhh” Ilya panicked, eyes wide as Shane just stood there, entirely grossed out and perfectly horrified. “Was that?”
“Uhuh,” Shane swallowed back the fear that started screaming at him…loudly. “My waters broke.”
“We should definitely…”
“Yes,” Shane agreed, tears sliding down his cheeks as liquid continued to trickle out of him and he was hit by another contraction.
*
“Do you think she’ll be a hockey player some day?”
Shane blinked lazily at Ilya who was cradling their daughter, his husbands face an absolute puddle of love as he gently squeezed her little feet, as if sussing out their suitability for the sport. Shane could practically make out the hearts in his pupils as he took in her little toes.
“She can do anything.” He smiled, exhaustion washing over him as he sighed down into the pillows propped up behind him.
Ilya glanced over and smiled, the love burning fiercely in his glistening eyes. “Have I told you how amazing you are and that I love you very, very much?”
“You have,” Shane chuckled, wincing as he shifted in the bed. He felt like he’d run several marathons back to back. “But I won't ever tire of hearing it.”
The world outside their room was quiet in the early hours of the morning, the lights dim overhead as they wrapped themselves in a cocoon of love.
It was a welcome calm after what had been a whirlwind birth of their little girl, but she was here now, and Shane couldn’t possibly get caught up in what the pain had been like, now that he had Ilya and her right before him, the perfect picture to focus on.
Ilya ambled over and Shane shifted in the bed to make room for them. He settled into the pillows next to Shane, who immediately let his head fall onto his husband's shoulder, more content than he had any right to be. They watched their sweet girl fuss with the movement, her little face scrunching up momentarily before Ilya's pinky finger feathered over her nose a few times and she re-settled.
“She’s so perfect,” Shane whispered, eyes hungrily crossing over her form as she slept peacefully in Ilya's arms.
“Da,” Ilya whispered back, turning slightly to press a kiss to Shane's forehead. “She’s strong, and beautiful, and sweet and perfect, just like you.”
Shane doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to wipe the smile off his face, even if right now there were tears silently tracking down his cheeks. He’s going to blame it on his crazy hormones and not the fact that Ilya knew how to really make him feel all the feels. He was just pure mush right now, and loving every single second.
“And impatient,” Shane added, sniffing away the tears. “Just like you.”
Ilya huffed out a laugh, careful not to jolt her as she slept.
“She was desperate to meet you,” Shane continued. “Becuase every day I told her just what it was like to be held by you, to be cared for by you, to be loved by you. And I think she just couldn’t wait any longer to see for herself.”
Ilya let out a soft cry and pressed another kiss to Shane’s forehead. Shane tilted his head up and their lips met, all tender and sweet and a little wet with their mingled tears.
“Ya tebya lyublyu.” Ilya sobbed into him. “vas oboih.”
I love you. Both of you.
“My tozhe tebya lyubim.” Shane replied in his accented Russian.
We love you too.