Chapter Text
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13 February 2015
Friday
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Shane wakes to the feeling of soft fingertips dancing across his back.
“Omega, is time to get up,” he hears a voice whisper. “Need to do your one million-step bedtime routine, yes?”
Oh right.
Rozanov. Boston. His fucking rut.
Shane blinks his eyes open, glancing up at the softly smiling alpha, his own lips curling into a small, sleepy grin.
“Time s’it?” He mumbles.
“Little bit before midnight,” Rozanov speaks gently as he helps Shane sit up. “You slept for maybe thirty minutes. You look very pretty when you sleep,” he grins, bopping Shane’s nose.
“Fuck off,” he shoves at the alpha, stretching his arms above his head and climbing out of the bed with a yawn.
“Here, let me,” Rozanov gets up and grabs a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie from his closet, tossing them at Shane as he puts on his own discarded joggers.
Shane gets dressed in the alpha’s clothes, taking a moment to breathe in the deep scent hidden within the collar of the sweatshirt. Glancing over at the alpha, he can tell Rozanov knows exactly what he’s doing.
“Smells good?” He teases with a smirk. His scent is obviously pleased.
“Fuck you,” Shane grumbles, brushing past the laughing alpha and heading to the foyer, grabbing his car keys from his coat.
“Where are you going?” Rozanov is suddenly behind him, chest pressed to Shane’s back, crowding him against the front door.
“My car? My duffel bag’s in there, I wasn’t exactly planning on spending the fucking night when I got here,” he turns in the alpha’s grip.
Rozanov looks upset, his eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed, scent clouding with something displeased.
“Rozanov?”
“I don’t want you to go outside,” the alpha admits in a mumble. He looks like a disgruntled pup.
“Oh my god,” Shane shakes his head with a smile. “Dumb alphas,” he huffs to himself.
“Yes, dumb, stupid alpha,” Rozanov grumbles with a slow, exaggerated nod. “But please humor the poor alpha and let him get your bag. Please,” he pouts at Shane.
“Ugh, fine,” Shane presses his car keys into Rozanov’s open palm, stepping aside so he can reach the door.
“Thank you,” the alpha sighs. He leans forward into Shane’s space for a moment and places a soft peck to Shane’s scent gland, likely in an attempt to subtly scent the omega. He’s out the door before Shane can question him about it.
Fuck.
He should probably prepare himself for an influx of traditional displays of territorial behavior. Rozanov is gonna do way more than lightly scent him when he’s in the throes of his rut.
Shane shivers, biting his lip to trap a smile. He kind of hates himself for being so excited.
He takes advantage of the moment alone to take stock of himself. He feels a little sleepy still, body relaxed and pliant after really good sex and the subsequent nap. His ass isn’t sore, either, which will probably change pretty soon…not that he’s too upset about that.
He’s glad to find that there’s no anxiety simmering under his skin. Just that little tingle of excitement that quickens his heart rate and makes something giddy swoop in his stomach.
He knows Rozanov will take care of him.
Even if he’s a total asshole outside of sex, Shane is one hundred percent certain the alpha will be just as kind, doting, and attentive during his rut as he is every time they fuck. He’s never doubted that Rozanov would be good to him. It’s just who he is as a man, as an alpha.
Shane reaches for his phone that he left in his coat, ignoring a few emails from various brands and several texts from Hayden, clicking first on the message from his coach. Lo and behold, Ilya was right. Sunday’s game is off.
He’s officially free until his flight on Wednesday.
With relief from the scheduling confirmation, he navigates to iMessage, clicking on his thread with Hayden.
From: Hayd [9:56]
Heyyyy buddy
Soooo what are you doing with the wknd off?
In his head, Shane reads the texts in the alpha’s voice, smiling to himself.
From: Hayd [10:13]
Jackie and me and the girls are probably gonna hit up the mtl biodome
And u know Jacks and I would love to have you for dinner
She’ll make your bird food! 🐤🥬
From: Hayd [10:21]
No valentines plans because being in the end of the 3rd trimester and chasing after toddler twins kind of takes the sexiness from marriage for a while
Not for me, I think Jackie is hot as fuck, esp when she’s pregnant but she said she feels like a sentient bean bag chair so…
Not to be tmi
Whoops
From: Hayd [10:56]
Are you ignoring me bc I mentioned fucking my wife?
My b
From: Hayd [11:12]
🥲😝
Rozanov returns with a fluster before he can respond to his idiot best friend, all but slamming the front door behind him and quickly turning the lock.
“Is someone chasing you?” Shane teases with a grin, hoping Rozanov remembers when he asked the same sarcastic question years ago. He pockets his phone for now, giving the obviously on-edge alpha his full attention.
“Yes, yes, I am silly alpha,” he rolls his eyes and repeats his earlier grumble, tossing Shane’s bag to his feet and pulling the omega against his front with a gentle hand around the back of his neck. “Outside is not scary and there is no one here to harm you– I know, I know,” he sighs at his own antics.
“It’s okay,” Shane smiles, wrapping his arms around the alpha’s body. “I know you can’t help it.”
He positively melts into Shane’s arms, tucking Shane closer to his body as he starts to nose at the omega’s neck.
“Can I scent you?” His voice is small, unsure.
Shane sucks in a breath, heart stuttering just a beat.
Scenting is intimate. It’s a gesture rooted in instinct, meant for family or pack members or serious lovers. He and Rozanov are none of the above.
But they’re sharing a cycle—a rut at that, everyone knows how alphas get—they’ll obviously have to scent each other. Rozanov’s alpha won’t be calm until Shane is dripping in his scent.
“Yeah,” he exhales after a moment. He tilts his head back to give Rozanov space, closing his eyes at the first slow, delicate press of his lips against his sensitive gland.
He feels his own body grow pliant as the alpha uses his mouth and his own neck to press his scent into Shane’s skin, spending precious time on each side of Shane’s neck and both his wrists.
Shane has never been scented by someone outside of his family before.
As a pup, his mom scented him regularly, ever the doting mother and pack alpha. She does it less so now that he’s grown up and lives on his own but still, she likes to cover him in the familiar scent of home whenever he visits.
His dad, as a beta, doesn’t scent mark and Shane’s never had a relationship that lasted longer than four months, meaning that he’s only ever been scented by his mother.
Until now.
It feels…kind of like taking a breath of fresh air.
He inhales deeply, mind going a little hazy with the pheromones Rozanov is releasing. Protectiveness, desire, care, dominance, all dance together, woven through the alpha’s scent and sinking into Shane’s skin, into his veins. The alpha is rumbling happily as he works, not a care in the world except making the omega smell like him.
“Oh–” Shane gasps when Rozanov, seemingly satisfied with his work, pulls Shane closer to his chest, nipping at the sensitive skin behind his ear. “Better?” He asks gently.
“Yes,” the alpha pulls back to look Shane in the eye. He’s still fully lucid, Shane’s pretty sure, but he’s definitely creeping toward full rut. “Better.”
“What do you need to do before it starts?”
“I am okay for now, I think,” Rozanov nods. “Bed now,” he starts to herd Shane back down the hall like he had a few hours ago. Shane lets him wrap his arms around his front and press his chest flush to Shane’s back, the pair of them walking like a strange, four-legged creature.
“Oh shit– Wait wait wait,” Shane pulls away from Rozanov’s arms for a second, ignoring the alpha’s little whine of protest. “I need to message Hayden, he texted me like seven times,” he reaches for his phone but the alpha snatches it from him before he can open their message thread.
“What the fuck?” Shane’s head whips up to look at him, noting the sudden icy expression clouding his face.
“No.” Rozanov huffs.
“No?” Shane asks incredulously, reaching for his phone, but the alpha holds it out of his reach. “Rozanov, I just need to text him that I can’t meet up during our break. He’ll worry about me if I go M.I.A. for the whole weekend,” he levels with an unamused stare.
“No,” Rozanov repeats, but it’s less rough this time.
“Why no?” Shane sighs, crossing his arms.
“No other alpha,” Rozanov pouts, looking like a pup again. His shoulders drop and his posturing loses all oomph. “Stupid Pike. Stupid alpha.”
“Oh my God,” Shane has to bite the insides of his cheeks to hold back a smile. “Aw, silly alpha,” he chuckles with just a hint of teasing, watching as Rozanov’s pouts deepens. “He’s not here. I’m not going to him. I’m here with you, okay alpha?” He says softly, hands caressing Rozanov’s jaw to soothe his already territorial wolf.
Rozanov glares down at him, but he presses into Shane’s touch.
“Okay?” Shane asks, slowly reaching for his phone.
“Fine. Text Pike,” the alpha huffs and lets him grab his phone, hiding his displeased face in Shane’s neck, returning to thoroughly scenting the omega as if in retaliation for his texting another alpha.
Shane grins to himself and starts to type.
To: Hayd [12:07]
Hey Hayd, sorry I was busy for a while!
That’s an understatement…
He quickly thinks of a convincing enough lie to get the alpha off his back without arousing any suspicion.
“Hurry, omega,” Rozanov huffs in annoyance, head tilting away from his neck. “Say bye to stupid alpha.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Shane tilts his head down to press a placating kiss to his lips.
To: Hayd [12:09]
You’re fine, buddy, I’ve heard worse in the locker room ha.
I’d love to hang with you and the family, but I’m actually in Ottawa with my parents!
They wanted to see me since they can’t come to All-Stars nxt week.
But thx for the invite :)
“Okay, done,” the alpha grunts, pulling Shane’s phone out of his hands the moment Shane locks the screen. He grabs Shane under his legs and picks him up, ignoring Shane’s shocked gasp.
“Okay—Okay, alpha,” he laughs, obediently wrapping his legs around him. “C’mon, let’s go to your room, huh?” He coos, trying to sound soothing.
Rozanov simply grunts again and reaches for the strap of Shane’s duffel, somehow managing to carry both the omega and his luggage into his bedroom.
He throws the bag onto the ground once they’re inside his space, but takes his time climbing onto his bed and gently setting Shane down in the middle of the mattress, hands carding through his hair once he’s settled.
Shane smiles at his antics, heart fluttering with something fond.
Oh God, if this is Rozanov still in pre-rut, how is he gonna survive the weekend?
“Make nest and then we will talk,” Rozanov instructs, heading to his walk-in closet to get a stack of blankets. Why the alpha has ample nesting material, Shane has no fucking clue.
“A nest?” He watches, slightly confused, as he drops the pile of blankets next to where Shane’s sitting. “I’m– I’m not in heat, do alphas– Do you want…”
“Nest please,” Rozanov just pouts at him from the foot of his bed, eyebrows furrowed and lips downturned. His accent has gotten significantly thicker this close to his rut, Shane notes.
“Yeah okay,” Shane shrugs, reaching for the blanket that looks the softest, running his hand over the material.
“Good,” the alpha nods, satisfied. He retrieves a pile of clothes next, placing them next to the blankets. They all reek of him, clearly recently scented. Shane can’t help but grab the nearest sweatshirt and bring it to his nose.
The alpha smiles at how obvious it is that Shane is enjoying his scent.
“Stay, will be right back,” Rozanov points at Shane with his furrowed eyebrows making a reappearance as he steps out of the room for a moment, dashing like he’s regretful to leave the omega. It gives Shane time to contemplate the stack of cozy items in front of him.
He didn’t think alphas nested during ruts.
Is it comforting to them? A biological pacification for if they don’t have a mate? Or maybe they only nest when there’s an omega to help them. Shane wouldn’t know, he’s never fucking done this before.
Nevertheless, he readies himself to build a simple nest.
He feels incredibly stupid trying to connect with his omega outside of his heat. He’s on so many suppressants to functionally pass as a beta. Rozanov is quite literally the only person besides his parents and doctors who knows the truth about his second gender.
Aside from the annual heat he struggles through every summer, Shane suppresses almost all biological instincts for fear of being found out and ruining his career, everything he’s worked so fucking hard to build.
He supposes it’s kind of freeing to be given permission to display such traditional behavior without judgement.
He just hopes his omega doesn’t get used to it.
Shane hops off the bed and stares down at the mess of comfort items, trying to remember how to build a fucking nest. He usually doesn’t let himself indulge in such Omegan behaviours until he’s deep enough in the throes of heat to justify it, so he’s really not sure how to start…
“I’m back, I’m back,” Rozanov bursts into the bedroom, startling Shane out of his thoughts.
He’s carrying an armful of snacks and various drinks, slamming the door behind him and setting his spoils on the bedside table before taking in the sight before him.
“Okay?” Rozanov asks hesitantly. He can probably smell Shane’s discomfort.
“I…I don’t really know what I’m doing,” Shane admits pathetically, raising one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug.
He feels Rozanov walk over to him, but turns his face away, feeling a tug of shame low in his gut. Rozanov probably regrets inviting him to spend his rut. He probably wishes he had a regular omega who is good at things like making nests and comforting their alpha and being all soft and submissive.
“Omega,” the alpha gently grasps his chin, tilting his head back toward him. Shane looks up, expecting to see Rozanov’s classic teasing expression, but there’s nothing but soft understanding on his face. “Can I help?”
Shane shrugs again, face flushing.
The alpha places a soft peck to Shane’s lips before stepping away. He reaches for the stack of blankets, holding three in his arms, presenting them for Shane’s inspection.
Shane runs his hand over the three different textures, stopping to pay a little more attention to the cream colored blanket in Rozanov’s right hand. It’s a little softer than the other two and something about it calls to Shane’s omega. He tries to not feel too self conscious about that.
“You like this one?”
Shane nods, glancing up at him. Rozanov looks pleased as he sets down the other two blankets and hands the cream one over. Shane takes it hesitantly, eyeing the alpha as he nods toward the bed with an encouraging smile.
Shane feels a little silly, but nevertheless he climbs onto the mattress, handing the pile of Rozanov’s clothes to the alpha and fiddling with the blanket until something in his chest is satisfied.
They continue like this for a while. Rozanov will hand him an item; Shane will inspect it; he’ll place it onto the bed wherever he sees fit, listening to his omega even though he feels a constant tug of embarrassment working under the alpha’s rapt attention.
When he’s tucked the last t-shirt into its rightful place the nest, Shane looks around at his work, trying his hardest not to judge himself.
The nest isn’t anything special. Rozanov’s probably seen way better.
“Okay?” Shane asks hesitantly, feeling brave enough to glance back at him.
“Is perfect, omega,” the alpha whispers reverently. “Thank you for beautiful nest,” he stares at Shane with intent.
“Oh,” Shane’s breath stutters. “Yeah, ‘course, or whatever,” he shrugs.
“I come in?” Rozanov asks, hesitating at the side of the bed.
“Yeah, of course, it’s your bed,” he scoots to the side, making room for the alpha.
“But is your nest,” he carefully joins Shane in the nest, waiting for Shane’s nod of approval before tucking the omega into his side, pressed close together but with enough room for them to chat face to face.
“Okay,” Shane feels his lips tug into a smile without his permission. He breathes in Rozanov’s happy scent.
Rozanov tangles their legs together, arm wrapping around Shane’s shoulders to keep him close. With his free hand, he tilts Shane’s head toward his with a gentle caress of his chin.
“Talk?”
“Yeah, definitely. We should talk boundaries,” Shane nods, clearing his throat.
“Boun-da-ries?” Rozanov repeats in stuttered syllables. He moves his hand to play with the baby hairs at the base of Shane’s neck. It’s like he’s hugging Shane, both arms circled protectively around the omega.
“Boundaries, like do’s and don’ts,” Shane translates. “What you need and what we’re both okay with and stuff.”
“Right,” the alpha agrees. “You first,” he gestures to Shane with a nod.
“Me? No, you first, you’re the one in rut,” he says, confused.
“Yes, but is your first rut and I want you to be comfortable. My alpha, he will not settle if he thinks you are not completely comfortable,” he explains, expression open and honest.
“Oh, um okay," Shane is once again taken aback by the alpha’s consideration. “I guess, I mean, I don’t really know what to expect…” he trails off, hoping he doesn’t look as awkward as he suddenly feels.
“Is okay,” Rozanov reassures, smiling kindly and releasing a soothing scent. He reaches his hand back to lightly scruff Shane.
He melts against Rozanov’s side, head dipping down to rest against his shoulder.
“We try this, then,” the alpha hums, clearing his throat. “Scenting is okay?”
“Mm hmm,” Shane nods.
“Knotting okay?”
“I mean, fuck, of course,” Shane laughs, looking up at Rozanov. “Kinda why I’m here.”
“Just checking, asshole,” he huffs, pinching Shane’s side. “Condoms?”
Shane feels himself blush. He imagines the feeling of the alpha spilling inside him, filling him up with his come without a barrier.
Oh god.
He fucking wants that. He really fucking wants that.
“I am clean and usually do not use them in rut, but is okay if you aren’t comfor–”
“No, no, it’s okay,” Shane interrupts with too much eagerness. “It’s, I mean, I’m clean and I’m on birth control, and won’t it go quicker if you don’t use them?” He mumbles, trying to tamper down his scent, now oozing with want.
The little growl Rozanov lets out makes him wonder how successful he is.
“Yes. Okay. No condoms,” he grunts. “Marks?”
“Scent marking?” Shane’s a little confused, they already agreed to–
“No. Marks.” Rozanov pokes at his neck.
“Ah,” Shane clears his throat again. They’ve always abided by a strict, unspoken ‘No Marks’ rule; he’d kind of forgotten that people usually like leaving hickies during sex. Especially rutting alphas, Shane suspects. “I mean, yeah. You’ve already been acting like a vampire and you’re not in rut yet–”
“Hey–”
“–so I imagine your alpha’ll want to mark me up a bit,” he mumbles with a flutter in his chest.
Rozanov’s eyes darken, honing in on Shane with renewed desire.
“Yes. Probably he will,” he mumbles with a little growl. His hand gently caresses Shane’s neck, fingertips ducking beneath the collar of the hoodie.
“Okay then,” Shane breathes out. “I mean, no mating and no super dark marks though, they have to fade enough before Thursday.”
“Right, yes,” the alpha agrees. His scent spikes. Shane can smell how much the alpha likes the idea of marking him up. The heat pooling low in his gut tells him his omega likes it just as much.
“Omega,” Rozanov growls, ducking down to nose at Shane’s neck.
Shane can’t hold back a whimper as he’s tugged closer to the alpha’s body, basically dragged into his lap.
“Is okay?” He grunts, pausing his actions.
“Yeah,” Shane breathes out, breath catching when Rozanov starts to scent him. He relaxes against his hold, feeling positively owned with one of the alpha’s hands scruffing his neck, the other squeezing at his hip.
“You smell so good, Hollander,” he groans. Shane has no choice but to fully climb on top of him so he can scent him properly.
Now straddling his lap, Shane can feel the alpha is half hard. In fact, he realizes he’s getting there, too.
“Oh fuck–” Shane moans at the first hint of teeth biting behind his ear, body melting into the feeling.
“There you go,” Rozanov growls. “Relax,” he commands gently.
Shane feels himself slick up, unable to hold it back.
“Omega,” Rozanov growls again. He reaches for Shane’s hips with both hands this time, helping him press down onto his cock.
“Fuck. Rozanov,” Shane steadies himself with both hands on the man’s shoulders, grinding his hips in little circles. He pulls back just enough to tug at his hoodie, whining a little when he can’t pull it off fast enough.
The alpha helps him, stripping him of his sweatshirt with a little snarl, tossing it off the bed and returning his hands to their rightful position on Shane’s hips. Rozanov tightens his hold, fingers digging into Shane’s sides as he quickens their pace. He’s fully hard now. Shane wants him inside him yesterday.
“Roz- Rozanov-” he moans. He reaches an unsteady hand between their bodies, fiddling with the alpha’s joggers until he frees his cock. He moans when he gets his fist around it, pumping with uncoordinated strokes that make the alpha rumble low in his chest.
"Da, "Yes, just like that, omega,” he encourages, bucking up into Shane’s fist. He’s starting to leak at the tip. Shane wants to swallow him.
He reaches for Shane’s waistband then, quickly tucking his sweatpants under his balls to fully free his aching cock. Rozanov bats Shane’s hand out of the way, wrapping one of his palms around both their lengths.
“Oh Jesus fuck,” Shane tosses his head back with a moan, hands scrambling for purchase around Rozanov’s neck, fingers tangling in the short curls at the base of his skull. “Feels s’good,” he whimpers.
“You sound so pretty for me, omega,” Rozanov growls, fist moving faster over their cocks. He uses the hand still wrapped around Shane’s body to encourage his hips to buck into the movement.
He plays with the head of Shane’s cock for a moment, gathering the precome that’s dripping out of him and slicking up his own cock with it.
“Rozanov, I want you in me,” Shane whines, eyes locked on the downright filthy sight.
The alpha growls. Shane can practically feel the vibrations in his own chest.
“Not yet, omega,” he groans, fisting their cocks with renewed fervor. “We need to give your pretty hole a break, yes?”
“No,” Shane whines pathetically, hating how needy he is. Isn’t Rozanov the one nearing his cycle? Shouldn’t he be the one desperate for it?
“Hollander–” he growls. “You need to rest. I cannot hurt you. I cannot.” He squeezes his fist just a little harder as if to punctuate his response.
“Oh my God, fine,” Shane pouts, bucking his hips to get the alpha to move again.
“Don’t worry, omega,” he chuckles teasingly, “you’ll be full of my come soon enough,” he gruffs, pulling Shane in for a heady kiss, tasting his responding moan.
Oh fuck. Oh God.
Shane knows his scent is going crazy. He can smell just how affected the alpha is, too. He tucks his nose against Rozanov’s scent gland to soak it in as much as humanly possible, shivering as it washes over him.
“You are close?” Rozanov asks needlessly. They both know he’s moments from orgasm.
“Yeah,” Shane nevertheless answers, moaning high and needy. He’s lost any lingering self-consciousness at this point, desperate to come. Desperate for Rozanov to come, too.
Rozanov curses in Russian, low and under his breath. He captures Shane’s lips in a messy kiss as his hand pumps their cocks with purpose, expertly thumbing over Shane’s cockhead each time, driving the omega insane.
“Alpha, ‘m gonna, gonna—Fuck, I’m coming,” Shane moans, hips stuttering as his orgasm rips through him. His cock spurts a stream of come up the alpha’s chest, landing on his pecs and collarbone.
“Oh omega,” Rozanov growls as he tips over the edge.
Shane shuts his eyes against his will, wanting to watch Rozanov fall apart but unable to keep them open with the rush of pleasure. He feels a spurt of the alpha’s come land on his own chest and shivers with how it feels like he’s claiming him.
"Gospodi, "Jesus Christ, fuck–” Rozanov groans breathlessly.
Shane comes down from his high slowly. He lets the alpha pull him into his chest, wrapping his arms around him and thoroughly scenting him. He distantly registers Rozanov cleaning off the come and sweat from their bodies with a tissue, but he’s content to float in post-orgasm bliss and let the alpha take care of things.
If the constant rumble in Rozanov’s chest is anything to go by, he’s enjoying it as much as Shane is.
“So good for me, Hollander,” he mumbles as he works. “So perfect, what a perfect omega.”
Shane isn’t sure he’s cognizant of what he’s saying, just muttering praises under his breath as he strips them both of their sweats and protectively tucks Shane under his arm.
“Thank you, omega. So good.”
Shane smiles to himself.
Rozanov gets them up a little while later after he makes Shane drink half a bottle of water, ushering him into the en-suite and retrieving Shane’s toiletries from his duffel.
Shane takes his suppressant pill, thankful he always travels with the whole bottle so he has enough for the impromptu sleepover. The only thing he’s unprepared for is extra clothing, but he’s pretty sure they’ll be naked 95% of the time anyway.
They get ready for bed together, brushing their teeth and faces side by side, the alpha making sure they’re always touching at least at one place.
He carries Shane back to the nest once they’re done, tucking him in and spooning him from behind. Shane wiggles around a little to get comfortable, inadvertently jostling the alpha behind him.
“Sleep,” Rozanov mumbles the command against Shane’s ear, squeezing the omega closer to his chest.
“Okay, okay,” Shane chuckles under his breath. “Wake me up when it starts, yeah?” He says through a yawn.
The alpha simply grunts, lips pressed to Shane’s neck.
Shane lets the non-answer slide, closing his eyes and taking a few deep, measured breaths. Sleep catches up with him faster than he expected.
The last thing he registers as he drifts off is the soft kiss pressed to his neck, right over his mating gland.
— — — — 🖤— — — —
14 February 2015
Saturday
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The first thing Shane is aware of as he slowly rejoins the land of the living are strong arms wrapped around his chest.
The next thing is the intense heat emanating from a body behind him. Closely after is the equally intense scent permeating the air.
Finally, he registers the massive cock poking at his soaking wet hole.
Jesus, how the fuck did he not notice that first?
“Omega,” Rozanov growls into his ear, arms tightening around his body. “You are awake?” He starts to grind his cock against Shane’s body in little thrusts of his hips, almost like he’s moving subconsciously.
“Yeah,” Shane whimpers, pressing back against him. “You, are you, is it–”
“Yes,” Rozanov grunts, no further explanation offered. He starts to nibble at Shane’s exposed neck.
“Why didn’t—Oh fuck, Rozanov,” He pants, one hand reaching up to wrap around the alpha’s head as he starts to suck a love bite into Shane’s neck. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“Did not want to disturb you,” he grunts, licking over the bruise once he’s satisfied the omega is properly marked. “Looked so pretty. So peaceful,” he starts to nose at Shane’s scent gland, silently asking for permission to scent him.
That’s…almost sweet, actually.
“Yeah, yeah, go for it,” Shane tilts his head to give him room. He shivers as Rozanov’s scent overtakes him, washing over his body and stinking up the room in rutting-alpha pheromones.
He lets Rozanov roll him onto his front and cover him with his own body, ever-careful to not rest too much of his weight on Shane as he planks over him. He positively drowns Shane in his scent, growling and rumbling as he licks and sucks across Shane’s neck and upper back.
Shane, for his part, takes it in stride. He tilts this way and that, helping the alpha reach as much skin as possible, pliant beneath his commanding touch.
“Good omega,” the alpha growls as Shane melts into the mattress. He’s rutting his cock in between Shane’s cheeks, brushing over his hole with every other thrust and it’s slowly driving the omega insane. He wonders if Rozanov’s even aware he’s doing it, the man is so focused on licking across every freckle dotting his traps and shoulders.
“Fuck, alpha,” Shane groans, tilting his hips back with what little space exists between their bodies, trying to get his cock to catch against his dripping hole with more purpose.
Rozanov growls again, deep in his chest. He starts to kiss down Shane’s back, stopping to lave over the dimples at the base of his spine on his way to his ass. Shane feels Rozanov lift his hips off the bed until he’s placed in a traditional presentation pose, ass on perfect display for the alpha kneeling behind him.
He scrambles for purchase, hands tangling in the sheets by his head as he braces himself for a touch that never comes.
“Rozanov-” Shane whines, looking over his shoulder to see the dark glimmer in the alpha’s eye as he stares down at Shane’s dripping hole like a man starved. A shiver ripples down Shane’s spine.
“So pretty,” the alpha gruffs, eyes never leaving Shane’s hole.
Shane hums happily as Rozanov’s hands come up to caress his ass cheeks, gently kneading them and pulling them apart to get a better view of where he’s aching and open. His body is responding to the close proximity of an alpha in rut, already producing enough slick for him to slide in and breed.
Oh God. Imagine that…Rozanov breeding him.
Shane hides his face into the crook of his arm, trying to bite back a whine at the thought.
Then finally the alpha presses two fingers inside him, wasting no time ensuring he’s stretched enough to take his knot. He doesn’t tease. He scissors his fingers and avoids Shane’s prostate, focusing on loosening the muscle into full relaxation.
“Okay?” Rozanov asks with a hoarse whisper.
“Yeah– yeah, s’okay,” Shane pulls back out of his arm just enough to let out. “Take what you need,” he exhales shakily, forehead dropping back down as the alpha adds a third finger, fucking him with intent now.
“So wet. So beautiful. Smell so good. So pretty,” Rozanov is mumbling more to himself than to Shane, voice low and heated, sounding thoroughly thrown into the depths of rut. His accent is as deep as his scent and he’s resorted to one or two word sentences, growling more than he speaks. It makes something primal in Shane ache.
Shane moans when Rozanov leans over his back, blanketing him with his body and scent.
“You are ready,” he bites at Shane’s ear. It’s half-question, half-statement. Shane chuckles breathlessly.
“Yeah, ‘m ready,” he agrees in case the alpha was actually looking for his go-ahead to take things further. With his track record, he probably was.
Rozanov leans back just enough to place one hand on Shane’s shoulder, the other lining up his cock to Shane’s hole. He presses in slowly, breathing heavily as he tucks himself over Shane’s back again, left hand moving to squeeze at the omega’s hip.
Shane bites his lips to trap a whimper as he enters him.
“Omega,” Rozanov whispers reverently when he’s fully inside, hips pressed to Shane’s ass. He can feel the way the alpha’s cock throbs inside him.
“Yeah,” Shane moans in response, clawing at the bedsheets. “Fuck, alpha–”
Rozanov moans, bracing himself against Shane’s body and pulling out halfway to fuck back into him with little grinds of his hips, letting Shane get used to being filled.
Shane starts to press back onto his cock, meeting his thrusts and spurring the alpha on. Rozanov gets the hint.
He pulls out until the head of his cock teases his rim and slams into him, balls slapping Shane’s ass.
“Oh my fucking God–” Shane groans. “Oh fuck—Fuck, fuck, fuck–” he pants when Rozanov doesn’t let up, keeping the brutal pace with his characteristic athleticism, gripping Shane’s hips like he’s trying to bruise. Shane hopes he does leave marks.
Quicker than Shane’s ready, his orgasm builds with intensity.
A little part of him wants this to last longer, but he supposes this is just the first of many knots he’s gonna be stuffed with by the end of the weekend.
“Fuck, omega–” Rozanov can probably smell how close he is. He leans back over Shane, all but snarling in his ear, hands gripping his hips impossibly tighter. His knot teases at Shane’s rim.
“Kn- knot me–” Shane whines, hiding his blush against the pillow. It only serves to drive his omega more wild with how saturated the fabric is with Rozanov’s scent.
The alpha responds with his body rather than with words.
He growls into Shane’s ear and scents the omega intensely, emitting more of his commanding pheromones, somehow managing to maintain his bruising pace as he works his scent into Shane’s skin.
Shane is a whining mess by the time he feels the knot at the base of his hole start to press inside.
“Yeah, do it, do it,” he keens.
On his next thrust, Rozanov eases his knot inside Shane, resorting to little grinds of his hips as it starts to swell.
Oh God. Oh fuck.
He reaches a shaky hand around his neglected cock, fisting himself frantically as he feels his orgasm swell.
Two more thrusts from the alpha towering behind him, Shane is helpless against his release, shivering and moaning as his orgasm washes over him, distantly aware of Rozanov’s presence on top of him, stuffing him full of his knot as it fully pops and locks them together.
He catches his breath slowly, breathing in the intoxicating scent of satiated alpha as he comes down from his orgasm. Rozanov rolls them onto their sides again, crowding him against the edge of the nest with his body, hiding him away from prying eyes that don’t exist.
“Sleep,” he grunts, licking across the little marks he’s bitten into Shane’s neck and shoulder.
A quick glance over at the nightstand tells Shane it’s just past 6 in the morning. On a normal Saturday, he’d be getting up at this time, completing a gentle workout before starting his day. Today is decidedly not a normal Saturday.
Encouraged by the knot stuffing him full and the warm alpha rumbling behind him, Shane manages to feel sleepy again, giving into his omega’s desire to bask in the presence of his alpha. Well. His for the weekend, at least.
Shane doesn’t want to think about what comes after his rut is over until later. He’ll cross that bridge when he’s forced to.
— — — — 🖤— — — —
For the second time today, Shane wakes up to the press of Rozanov’s achingly hard cock against his ass.
He’s…not complaining. It’s not a terrible way to wake up. Or whatever.
“Omega,” the alpha mumbles against his ear from behind, curling his arm tighter around Shane’s body. “I can?” He asks, pressing his cock against Shane’s hole.
“Yeah, fuck, yeah,” Shane exhales, tilting his hips back. He’s still shaking off the last dregs of sleep as Rozanov slips right back inside of him, sliding all the way to the hilt in one long thrust. “Oh God–”
Rozanov starts to scent Shane as he waits for him to adjust, nipping and licking across the sensitive skin behind his ear.
Shane hums after a minute or so, silently giving his permission to start fucking him. The alpha doesn’t hesitate, pulling out slowly before slamming back into his hole with a groan.
He sets a leisurely but intense pace. What he holds back on in speed the alpha makes up for in depth, pulling all the way out then thrusting all the way in again. Shane feels him in his gut. Feels him in his throat.
Rozanov grabs his thigh under one of his elbows, holding it up to adjust the angle, somehow reaching even deeper inside Shane.
“Holy fuck–”
He mewls at the sensation, one arm snaking back around the alpha’s neck, the other clinging the sheets for dear life, nails threatening the material’s integrity with how hard he’s gripping.
“Omega,” Rozanov mumbles into his ear, sounding positively ruined. He starts mumbling heatedly in Russian, whispering things that Shane doesn’t understand, but nevertheless make him shiver with pleasure.
The alpha is completely at the mercy of his rut—scent deep and primal, growling incessantly, speaking in stuttered words and resorting to his native tongue.
It’s hardly any time before his knot starts to press against Shane’s entrance with each thrust. He feels his body produce more slick in preparation for it, his omega attuned to the alpha’s needs, ready to take his knot with ease.
Before it can inflate, however, Rozanov pulls out all the way.
“Wha—Oh Jesus fuck–” Shane barely has time to process his emptiness as his world is turned sideways. Rozanov has switched their position so he’s sitting further up against the blanket-covered headboard, pulling Shane back onto his cock when they’re face to face. “Fuck–” Shane shivers, melting against the alpha’s chest.
Shane instinctively starts to bounce on the dick splitting him open but Rozanov grips his hips, controlling the pace. Shane tucks his head into Rozanov’s neck, breathing in the delicious scent of rutting alpha now that he’s got access to his scent glands.
Too aroused to be embarrassed, Shane ruts his cock against Rozanov’s chest, dragging his dick against the planes of his abs with little tilts of his hips, taking advantage of the steady pace the alpha has built.
Rozanov is growling in Russian again. Shane assumes he’s saying something dirty, praising Shane or whatever.
He has no clue what he’s actually saying, but he’s taken aback by his tone of voice. There’s a hint of reverence, almost. A little bit of adoration, maybe.
Plus he’s looking at Shane like he’s something…special.
No one’s ever looked at him like this.
It’s probably the rut. Rozanov’s instincts are just clinging to the presence of a willing, eager omega.
And fuck is Shane both willing and eager.
They maintain eye contact as Rozanov’s knot finally swells and Shane’s cock jerks violently against his chest, both of them thrust into orgasm in tandem as if their wolves are tied together, speaking to one another in a language they don’t quite understand.
Shane shuts his eyes, unable to bear another moment of being so seen.
He clenches around the knot inside him, milking the alpha through his release, delighting in the way his cock keeps pumping come deep inside him.
“Omega you are so beautiful,” the words seem drawn out of Rozanov by something deep inside his chest.
Shane opens his eyes, looking down at the alpha as they both come down from their orgasms. He can’t hold back his satisfied smile. It’s okay, though; the alpha smiles up at him, looking as fucked out as Shane feels.
“You are comfortable?” He asks, running both hands up and down Shane’s sweaty back.
“Mm hmm,” Shane nods, shifting so there’s less pressure on his knees and most of his weight carried by Rozanov’s thighs.
“Good.” He nods, scent pleased.
Holding onto Shane to keep him steady, he reaches over to the nightstand and grabs a bottle of Gatorade and a handful of snacks. At a glance, Shane is nearly positive none of them fit into his strict diet.
Rozanov opens the drink first, holding the bottle to Shane’s lips, slapping away Shane’s hands when he tries to grab it and ignoring his huff of annoyance. He keeps the drink at Shane’s lips until half the Gatorade is gone.
After chugging the rest, Rozanov grabs a protein bar. Once again, when Shane tries to take the bar himself, Rozanov lets out a displeased grumble and bats away his hand. He unwraps it and breaks off a bite-sized chunk. Shane eyes the quite frankly ridiculous amount of chocolate chips in the thing.
“I can feed myself,” he hums when the alpha goes to feed him the bite.
“No,” Rozanov pouts. He holds both Shane’s hands in his free hand as he brings the bar to his lips again.
“Okay, okay,” Shane rolls his eyes fondly. He opens his mouth and lets Rozanov feed him the whole protein bar, bite by bite, the alpha rumbling happily the whole time. He feeds Shane a handful of trail mix next, fingertips lingering against Shane’s lips with every pass.
Again, after Rozanov is satisfied Shane is fed, he scarves down two protein bars and a package of peanut butter crackers, barely stopping to chew as he eats.
“Jesus, slow down,” Shane huffs with an amused laugh. Rozanov pouts at him, grumbling with annoyance, but he slows down his last few bites under Shane’s watchful eye.
His knot deflates just after he makes Shane drink half of a bottle of water. He helps Shane climb off his lap and dutifully massages out his quads and hamstrings, a little tight after twenty minutes straddled in his lap.
“Thank you,” Shane whispers when the alpha has begun to rub aimlessly his body, satisfied his muscles are relaxed and happy to simply touch Shane. “You’re taking such good care of me,” he looks up at Rozanov with a shy smile.
Alphas are sensitive about caring for potential mates during their ruts, right? Shane should relax his wolf by letting it know he’s doing a good job. It’s probably what omegas are supposed to do when they share a cycle with an alpha.
And Rozanov does look exceptionally pleased at Shane’s words.
He bundles Shane up in one of the blankets at the edge of the nest, tucking him in with a happy rumble and protective scent. Shane lets him work, biting back his fond smile at his antics.
“Can I scent you?” He asks when Shane’s sufficiently bundled.
“Yeah, go for it,” he nods, half wondering how he’ll reach Shane’s skin now that he’s more blanket than omega, but the alpha climbs over him and pulls back the cocoon he’s made just enough to reach Shane’s neck.
He breathes in deeply to start, nuzzling into Shane’s scent. Shane, for his part, tries to emit his most calming pheromones. Rozanov mumbles something against his skin; Shane can’t hear it, but it sounds happy.
Then he begins to scent Shane in earnest.
Shane can’t hold back the little moan that escapes his lips, body relaxing immediately, comforted by the warmth and protection Rozanov presses into his skin.
“So good, omega,” he grumbles, kissing across Shane’s neck and throat to reach his other side. He suckles gently against Shane’s mating gland, placing delicate pecks to the spot as he works.
Shane wonders if he’s this doting to every omega he spends his rut with.
The thought makes something ugly tug in his stomach so he pushes it away for now.
He can tell the alpha is getting antsy about something after he’s properly drenched Shane in his pheromones. He’s looking a little less ‘out of it’ now too. A bit more lucid.
“You okay?”
“I need…” he sits up on his knees right beside Shane. “Is silly again,” he shrugs, eyes downturned.
Shane remembers one time last season where he was really fucking adamant that ‘Russians do not blush’ when he was absolutely blushing over a comment Shane made.
The alpha is blushing again now.
“Silly like last night?” Shane thinks back to Rozanov snarling at the thought of the omega leaving the house or even texting another alpha last night.
“Yes.”
“Rozanov, it’s okay. It’s– you’re in rut, you’re allowed to, like, give into your instincts.” He’s one to fucking talk, but Rozanov doesn’t need to know that he suppresses every Omegan urge he can, only giving in when it’s impossible not to.
“Need to scent,” Rozanov grumbles.
“You just scented me,” Shane hums with confusion.
“The house. Did not properly scent before rut started because I did not know I would have you with me.”
Oh. That makes sense.
“Do you need to…go do that?” Shane starts to disentangle himself from his blanket cocoon. “I can come with.”
“Stay,” the alpha grumbles again, pointing at Shane with a pout. “No. Come,” he changes his mind, eyes glancing from Shane’s prone form to the door. “No, stay.”
Shane puts him out of his misery.
“I could use a chance to stretch my legs anyway,” he starts to sit up, watching the alpha for any signs of renewed distress.
“Okay fine. Come,” he agrees, carefully climbing out of the nest. He helps unwrap Shane and all but lifts him off the bed, too.
Shane glances down at the two of them once they’re on the hardwood floor. The alpha looks utterly unashamed of his nakedness but Shane can’t help but blush as he takes in his own disheveled, hickey-covered appearance.
“I’m, uh, gonna grab some pants?” He mutters. “Maybe socks, too. It’s kind of, you know, cold.”
Rozanov simply nods and crosses the room to his dresser, coming back with a pair of boxers and socks. He takes his time scenting each piece of clothing, rubbing them across his neck and wrists before kneeling and helping Shane dress.
He kisses each foot after he rolls the socks on and sucks a fresh love bite into the sensitive skin of Shane’s happy trail when he pulls the boxers up. Shane smells his rut intensify, but Rozanov either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.
Standing back up, he reaches into the nest and carefully extracts a throw blanket, once again wrapping Shane into a poor attempt at a fuzzy, oversized burrito.
“Okay, we go,” he nods after Shane’s dressed and bundled. He herds Shane out of the bedroom and into the living room, placing him on the couch as he scrambles to double check every blind is closed and door locked.
Shane watches him move around the space.
He runs his fingertips along every wall and emits a blend of protective and territorial pheromones into the air, warning nonexistent threats to stay back. The alpha keeps looking over his shoulder every other second, making sure Shane stays exactly where he put him.
Any other day, the sight of all six foot three of lethal Russian hockey player, naked as the day he was born and grumbling to himself as he paces around his home, would surely have Shane teasing him mercilessly.
But today, Shane bites his tongue.
He’s spent every second since the awful afternoon he presented as an omega trying to silence his second gender.
Don’t nest. Take suppressant pills daily. Build more muscle. Suppress heats as much as medically possible. Religiously use scent patches and neutralizing soap.
It’s almost refreshing to see someone act in such accordance with their wolf.
Rozanov doesn’t seem to be embarrassed about his territorial instincts as he coats Shane and his house in his scent, placing his omega in the centre of the room and pacing by the curtain-drawn windows with one eye outdoors, the other on Shane.
There’s no actual threat, but Shane finds that his own omega is relaxed by Rozanov’s posturing.
Sensing attentive eyes on him, the alpha turns and fully faces Shane.
“Safe?” He asks with a little grunt.
“Very safe,” Shane nods with a soft smile. “Thank you, alpha. I feel very safe,” he pretends he’s not blushing profusely at the words that feel so fucking foreign on his tongue.
But the smile on Rozanov’s face and wave of happy-alpha scent make it worth it. At least his omega thinks so, purring inside his chest.
Rozanov makes his way toward Shane.
“Happy?”
“Yes, I’m happy.”
“Warm?”
“Yep, super warm.”
“Hungry?”
Shane’s starting to get the sense that the alpha wants something productive to do before the next wave hits. Something that allows him to care for the omega here with him.
“I could eat.” Two rounds of pretty athletic rut-sex probably requires more than a protein bar and handful of mixed nuts, despite his latent desire to avoid any foods that don’t fit his macros.
“Okay, okay,” Rozanov lights up at his words, reaching for Shane. He moves them into the kitchen, sitting Shane at a stool and tucking him into his blanket again while he starts to prepare something that can pass for lunch.
What he ends up with is a platter of sliced fruit, piles of cheese and crackers, and what looks like two pre-made protein shakes. Shane’s glad the mid-rut alpha doesn’t try to use the stove. He doesn’t really wanna test the response time of Rozanov’s fire alarm if something went amiss.
“Okay. Come,” Rozanov nods toward the couch again, making sure Shane is following close behind him. Setting the food down on the coffee table, he pulls the omega onto his lap in a mirror of their earlier position with the notable exception of a knot splitting Shane open.
Shane blinks away the thought of the alpha's cock before his scent betrays his wondering mind.
Like before, Rozanov hand-feeds him bites of the food and sips of the shake in between feeding himself. Shane is blushing the whole time, but his omega continues to purr delightedly inside his chest.
When the alpha holds another piece of pineapple up to his lips, Shane can’t help but take his fingertips into his mouth, sucking the juice off his fingers with a curl of his tongue.
“Omega,” Rozanov’s eyes go dark, scent tinging with want. “Shane–” he growls.
Oh fuck.
Jesus fuck.
They don’t do that. He and Rozanov don’t use each other’s fucking first names. They don’t fucking do that.
Sure, they use designation labels which, for all intents and purposes, is probably worlds more intimate, but using their first names feels like crossing an imaginary line that they’ve created for a fucking reason.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
Shane feels himself start to panic.
His heart rate picks up and there’s a voice in the back of his head screaming at him to run far the fuck away, but Rozanov’s arm holds him steadily in place on his lap and the alpha’s goddamn fingers are still in his fucking mouth.
Rozanov removes them then, running the spit soaked digits over Shane’s bottom lip. He’s still looking at Shane with wonder in his eyes. Does he even know what he said?
“Shane,” he whispers, eyes trained on Shane’s. Oh– He does.
“Ilya–” Shane exhales shakily in response. He doesn’t remember letting himself say that. The name feels like it’s pulled out of his chest.
“Omega,” Rozanov’s eyes shift again, this time clouding over with lust. Shane can smell the shift in pheromones.
“You need me again?” Shane asks breathlessly, feeling his hole slick up in instinctual response to Rozanov’s—to Ilya’s—next wave of rut.
“Always,” the alpha groans. He pulls Shane in with a hand on his scruff, kissing all of Shane’s doubts away. His tongue inside Shane’s mouth soothes his panicking mind until the only thought knocking around in his brain is Ilya Ilya Ilya Ilya…
Nothing has changed since this morning, since one fucking hour ago. But at the same time, everything has changed.
Shane knows the alpha’s borrowed boxers he’s wearing are all but ruined with how slick he’s getting but he can’t seem to bring himself to care. Given his reaction to Shane’s panties yesterday, he’s pretty sure Rozanov won’t be too hard pressed either.
“Nest. Need to knot you,” Ilya growls, helping Shane stand back up and ushering them back into his room with haste.
With the door shut behind them, Ilya is back on Shane, kissing him with renewed passion. He’s stripping Shane of his meager amount of clothing in seconds, hands trailing over every inch of skin he can reach, replacing the blanket in the nest and tucking the boxers and socks in there, too.
Shane’s not much better in terms of desperation. His omega is once again helpless against responding to the scent of an alpha in rut, slicking up and producing his own pheromones meant to seduce what his wolf sees as his mate.
“Shane, omega, fuck–” Ilya moans when he feels Shane start to grind his hardening cock against the alpha’s own.
He ushers Shane into the nest, into their nest, laying him down atop the sheets with care and climbing over him, blanketing the omega with his body.
Ilya starts to desperately kiss down Shane’s jaw, across his collarbones, over his pecs. Shane writhes under the attention, pushing up into the press of his lips. Ilya doesn’t stop until he’s at Shane’s cock, breathing soft puffs of hot air against it, making it twitch.
“Fuck, alpha–”
Ilya glances up, holding eye contact with Shane. He shifts his weight in between Shane’s legs so he’s resting on his knees and Shane is forced to watch with bated breath as Ilya slowly spreads his legs, staring up at him the whole time, eyes blown black.
“Perfect. Perfect for me.” Ilya breathes out, looking Shane up and down. “Mine.”
“Yeah,” Shane keens, squirming under the weight of his gaze. He’s Rozanov’s. At least for this weekend. He can pretend he doesn’t mean it once Ilya’s rut is over. “Yours.”
He shuts his eyes as the alpha starts to kiss across his hip bones, sucking a bite into his skin and placing teasing kisses around the base of his cock. He can’t help but urge Ilya on with his body, silently asking for more.
“I can taste?” The alpha asks, glancing up at Shane with something hungry in his gaze.
“Fuck– yes, Ilya,” Shane groans. “You can do whatever you want.” He’ll feel embarrassed about his neediness later. Hopefully the alpha is too far gone to remember any of this, anyway.
Ilya lays down on his front, hands on Shane’s inner thighs to keep his legs spread and open as he licks into his hole, moaning low in his throat at the first taste of the omega’s slick.
Shane tangles a hand in his curls as he gets into it, eating Shane out like he’s his last meal, like he’ll die if he can’t get his mouth on Shane’s hole.
Jesus fuck, do all alphas get like this? Shouldn’t they be obsessed with breeding their omega during rut?
But Rozanov seems perfectly content to suck Shane’s soul out of his ass right now and who the fuck is Shane to deny him?
Ilya doesn’t let up, lapping each trickle of slick with heady groans, hands gripping Shane’s thighs for dear life as he fucks his tongue into Shane’s hole.
“Fuck Ilya, I need you in me so bad,” Shane pants, creeping close to release. He feels Ilya’s fingers brush further up his sensitive inner thighs, slowly traveling toward where he’s aching for the alpha’s touch.
“Okay omega, okay–” Ilya shushes his whining, kissing the base of his cock. “I have you,” he growls possessively.
Finally he dips two fingertips into Shane and coats his fingers with Shane’s slick, teasing around his hole before slowly pressing three inside. Shane’s breath catches in his chest as Ilya curls them, hitting his prostate dead on.
Fuck—Shane is a little sensitive after taking Ilya’s knot twice today. His hole is puffy and overused, but he still presses back against the alpha’s fingers with a deep, primal desire to be filled.
He whines frantically, hips bucking up into the pressure of Ilya’s fingertips. The alpha doesn’t let up. He quickly adds another finger and stretches the four inside Shane, all the while kissing him and softly whispering praises into his ear.
“You sound so pretty, Shane,” he praises, staring down at Shane.
“Jesus Christ–” Shane feels his heart stutter. He’s still not used to the sound of his name on Ilya’s tongue.
Ilya finally withdraws his fingers after a minute or two, perfunctorily wiping them on the sheets. He lines himself up, the tip of his cock just barely brushing against Shane’s hole, and Shane holds his breath.
“Yeah, c’mon,” Shane keens, nodding enthusiastically. “C’mon, Ilya.”
“Fuck–” Ilya murmurs, rubbing his hands up and down Shane’s torso as he presses inside. “Always feel so good,” he whispers, leaning forward to kiss Shane for a moment or two, slowing down Shane’s racing pulse.
Shane is grateful for the pause. He breathes alongside Ilya’s steady, measured breaths as he slowly enters into him, staring intently into Shane’s eyes with so much emotion Shane thinks he might spontaneously combust.
He shuts his eyes. He can’t fucking take this right now. This can’t mean as much to the alpha as it means to him, right?
Right?
“Doing so good,” Ilya praises against his lips. “Look at me, omega.”
Shane moans at those words, eyes fluttering open and body relaxing enough for Ilya to slip in the final few inches and Shane’s breath catches in his throat once more.
“So perfect. There you go, omega.”
“Alpha–” he keens again, something fluttering in his stomach at how intimate it feels. Part of him wants to run away from the feeling. A bigger part of him wants to fall into it, let it wash over him.
“I’ve got you,” Ilya whispers, taking Shane’s hands into his own, pressing them into the mattress beside his head. The pressure simultaneously grounds him and fills him with the thrilling sense of being totally and completely controlled by the man above him. “You take me so well, omega.”
Shane whimpers, head tossed to the side. He’s so fucking sensitive, but the sting in his ass doesn’t deter the heat building low in his gut.
Ilya breathes heavily against his neck, still tense and unmoving though obviously ready to move whenever Shane gives him the go-ahead. He kisses across Shane’s neck for another minute as Shane breathes through the last of the lingering sensitivity.
“Okay, okay, move,” he finally pants, any discomfort now completely replaced by pleasure and anticipation. “Please fucking move–”
Ilya leans back an inch, getting his hips into a better position, and slowly pulls out of Shane. Shane sucks in a breath as he pushes back in, moving at a glacially steady pace.
“Still so tight,” he gruffs. “Such a good omega,” the praise drips off his tongue.
Ilya slowly gains momentum, holding Shane’s hands against the sheets and periodically kissing him to swallow down Shane’s moans. Heat grows in Shane’s gut, burning through him.
“Fuck, Ilya. Jesus Christ,” he whines as a particularly hard thrust hits his prostate dead on.
Ilya moves his hands so he’s holding the backs of Shane’s thighs, able to pick up the already brutal pace and repeatedly press against his prostate, driving Shane absolutely insane. He wraps his legs around Ilya’s back and squeezes him closer.
He can barely hear himself, but he knows he’s letting out a litany of swears and praises and pleas for more.
Ilya doesn’t let up, doesn’t slow his pace, hands moving all over Shane’s body now—tugging on his cock, rubbing his oversensitive nipples, scraping lines down his waist, tangling in Shane’s hair.
His knot begins to tease Shane’s entrance, threatening to fill him up with every thrust. Shane meets his thrusts with his hips, body silently encouraging the alpha to hurry the fuck up and knot him.
“Going to stuff you full of my pups,” Ilya groans into Shane’s ear, leaning over the omega and taking Shane’s hands into his own once more, pressing them above Shane’s head as he towers over him with every ounce of commanding energy in his body.
Oh Jesus fucking Christ.
“Yeah,” Shane keens, tossing his head back, body shivering head to toe. “Fill me up, alpha. Fill me with your come, with your pups.”
“You want that? You want to be full of me?” Ilya growls, grip tightening against Shane’s hands. “Carry my come and my pups?” He bares his teeth, snarling as he leans down to bite against Shane’s jawline.
“Yeah—Oh my fucking God,” Shane pants. “I want that, I want that Ilya,” he whines, hating how true it is. This is just Ilya’s rut talking. His omega needs to stop getting so fucking turned on by his filthy, fantastical rut-talk.
“Gonna give it to you, omega. Gonna knot you until you’re stuffed full of my come,” Ilya growls. His hips are snapping into Shane with biting ferocity, half-inflated knot just barely pressing past the tight muscle of his entrance with each brutal thrust.
It’s too much. It’s not nearly enough.
“Gonna—Oh fuck, gonna come—Fuck, Ilya,” Shane whines again. “Fuck, I’m so fucking close–” he rambles, uncaring if he comes off as needy or desperate or delirious. That’s what he feels like, anyway.
“Come for me, omega” Ilya commands, murmuring in his ear, leaning over his body completely while still fucking into him with precision. “Come for me and I’ll fill you with my knot.”
And that’s all it takes.
Shane makes a whiny, breathless sound as the world explodes around him. As soon as his cock starts to spill, Shane feels Ilya’s knot pop, pressing so fucking deep and locking them together. Filling him up. Breeding him.
“So gorgeous—You are so beautiful, Shane. Gospodi–” Jesus Christ--" He can hear Ilya whispering to him, encouraging him through his orgasm as his own cock spurts streams of come inside him. “So full of me.”
Shane whimpers. The heat and pleasure and release and intimacy of it all overwhelms him.
All he can do is hold onto any part of the alpha he can reach and pray he doesn’t fall too hard on the come-down.
“Filled me up good, alpha,” Shane mumbles, patting his stomach when Ilya maneuvers them into a more comfortable position, Shane lying halfway on Ilya’s chest.
The alpha growls possessively, releasing a satisfied, satiated scent. He tucks his head into the crook of Shane’s neck and shoulder and licks across his skin, stopping to nibble at his mating gland.
Shane gives him more room to mark up. He sighs contentedly at the alpha’s doting, happy to relax into his hold and let Rozanov handle things from here.
If this will all disappear when Ilya’s out of rut, he might as well soak it in while it lasts.
“Comfy?” Ilya whispers after indulgently scenting the omega.
“Yeah, ‘m comfy,” Shane hums, eyes fluttering closed. Whether with tiredness or pure relaxation, he can’t quite tell, but the alpha will probably—
“Good. Sleep now.”
Yep. That.
“Okay, okay,” Shane chuckles, familiar with the post-knot rut routine by now. “Wake me up when it hits again.”
Ilya hums his agreement, too busy with licking and scenting Shane for words. Shane relaxes into the feeling, breath and heart rate slowing instinctively, everything inside him trusting the alpha will take care of him.
Shane and his omega are on the same page for once.
Hopefully his wolf doesn’t get too attached.
Hopefully Shane doesn’t, either.