Chapter Text
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21 July 2015
Ottawa, ON
Tuesday
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Shane miscalculated.
For once in his life, Shane Hollander miscalculated.
And of-fucking-course it had to be this week.
It’s technically not his fault. His mom booked an extra shoot with one of the cologne companies he has a partnership with (he honestly can’t remember which one, they’re all basically the same to him) and he’d been in Vancouver for four days at the beginning of the month, meaning he had to keep taking his suppressants instead of slowly titrating off them like he does every summer.
It’s usually like clockwork.
Over three carefully planned weeks, he titrates down to every other day, then three times a week, then nothing and, like clockwork, his heat would arrive within three days of stopping altogether.
But this time he went cold turkey off the suppressants knowing he couldn’t ask Ilya to change his flight last minute and not wanting to disrupt the schedule they’d planned.
So he miscalculated. And his body is paying the fucking price.
Ilya is arriving today and they were supposed to have at least four days to settle into things with Shane slowly entering pre-heat. They were supposed to have time to talk. Both about what to expect from Shane’s heat and maybe even about other things.
Shane had been thinking about other things too much since February.
He said nothing when they fucked during the All-Stars weekend and continued to say absolutely nothing when they fucked in Vegas and is probably going to say nothing when Ilya arrives in T-minus three hours because he’s already starting to feel delirious with pre-heat.
It slammed into him early this morning.
His internal clock be damned, the awful mix of desperation and anxiety and a clawing need for comfort woke him up at half past five, shivering and achingly cold despite the late-July weather. He tried to fall back asleep but gave up around seven, climbing out of bed and bundling in cozy loungewear while he self-soothed and watched the clock tick way too slow.
Four hours.
It’s now 11 am. Ilya will be here in just four hours.
He was planning on picking him up from the airport, not minding the four hour round trip excursion, but after a somewhat frantic text exchange this morning, Ilya forced him to stay home and promised he’d be more than fine renting a car at the airport.
That’s probably a smart move, Shane really shouldn’t be driving this deep in pre-heat, but he hates the new wrench in their plan. Why can’t things just work the way he wants them to?
Shane, after pacing back and forth around the living room for who knows how long, treks back upstairs to his bedroom.
He takes in the sight of the pristinely made bed and the organised stacks of blankets and comfort items. His nesting materials.
He’d bought one of those extra large, skinny body pillows that he’s heard omegas raving about but he’s not really sure where that would fit in his nest. Usually he just likes a little stack of blankets and deeply scented hoodies or pillows in a somewhat orderly pile. He’s never really paid much attention to building his nest.
Not until Ilya.
Maybe the alpha will help him this time around too. Hopefully he won’t judge Shane for being so fucking obtuse about nesting. He turns away from the bed, too in his head, feeling like the hospital-cornered sheets were mocking him.
Bad omega. They say. Pathetic, useless omega. Doesn’t even know how to make a simple nest.
He shakes his head and steps into the ensuite, checking for the nth time that he has everything he’ll need for the week. Toothpaste and toothbrush easily accessible. Fancy facial wipes because he’ll be too out of it to keep up his skincare. Unscented body wipes for when he’s feeling gross but can’t find it in him to shower.
Check, check, check.
The mini fridge is next.
He brought his unofficial ‘heat fridge’ out of the hockey rink and into his bedroom last night and stocked it with electrolyte drinks, water, and a whole host of snacks that are healthy enough to fit his diet but nutritious enough to get him through his heat.
Ilya will probably have something to say about his choices. They didn’t really have time to talk about that yet. Whatever. He’ll be stuck munching on things like mixed nuts and plant-based protein smoothies and kale chips for the time being.
He’d also bought enough groceries to feed a small army (or rather, two professional athletes in the midst of intense heat-sex) that are neatly stored in the fridge and pantry for after Shane’s heat or when they’re feeling up for some actual food.
He has everything they’ll need prepped and ready for these next few weeks.
Nesting materials. Check.
Toiletries. Check.
Food. Check.
Alpha. Check.
He’s prepared. Over-prepared, really.
But he still feels incredibly unready for this week. Emotionally mostly, but it doesn’t help that his pre-heat symptoms have doubled since the early morning hours.
His stomach is in knots and he’s simultaneously freezing cold and overheated. He feels incredibly on-edge and wants to cry or scream or something.
He’s bundled in an oversized hoodie, comfortable joggers, and fuzzy socks, but he feels almost naked. On display. He feels like his walls have eyes and he’s being watched as he moves around the cottage.
He goes back to the kitchen. He needs to do something useful before he really starts to spiral. But before he can (triple) check that he has enough food for two weeks, his phone pings.
From: Lily [12:08]
Plane just landed 🛬
Already rented car from the car renting place 🚘
(There is no sportscar emoji, pretend it is a super sexy sportscar, okay?)
You said two hours to your secret sex cottage, yes?
Shane reads the texts in Ilya’s accent.
At least that manages to cut through his anxiety, even just a little bit.
To: Lily [12:09]
Thanks for the update.
Yes, roughly two hours.
You still have the address?
He doesn’t dignify the teasing with a response, simply confirming with the alpha that he still has Shane’s address and will be on the road by 12:45 in what is most likely not a sports car. Although he wouldn’t put it past him.
His omega settles a little at the reminder that Ilya is on his way. There’s an alpha on his way to make it hurt less. His alpha, at least for the next two weeks.
Ilya sends him voice notes throughout the drive. They come every thirty minutes or so and are mostly just updates on where he is and a reminder to drink water and rest while he’s waiting for his arrival.
Shane listens to each note on repeat while waiting for the next.
He doesn’t care how pathetic that seems, the alpha’s voice is the only thing that can soothe the cavernous ache in his gut.
Shane curls up on the couch—yes with a bottle of water—and simply…waits.
He checks his phone for updates and stares vaguely at the TV that’s playing something tennis-y. Wimbledon maybe? He can’t really pay any attention to anything other than the sound of Ilya’s voice and the frost that’s taken hold of his lungs.
He loses time like that, tucked under a throw blanket and shivering until it feels like his bones are rattling against each other. He manages to finish half the bottle of water, though. Small wins.
At the sound of wheels on the gravel driveway, Shane shoots up on shaky legs, water bottle dropping to the floor. He’s opening the front door before Ilya even grabs his suitcase from the trunk, but he stays in the doorway, suddenly wary of stepping outside the safety of the cottage. Well, that and he’s only wearing fuzzy socks on his feet.
“Hi.” Shane tries to smile when Ilya reaches the porch.
“Hello Shane,” Ilya greets with a smile that’s only a little wobbly as he takes in the state of the omega. “Let’s get inside, yes?”
He ushers Shane back inside with a frown and quickly kicks off his shoes before pulling Shane into a tight hug.
“Breathe, omega,” he instructs with a rumble.
On command, Shane takes a deep breath.
Oh. He didn’t realize he wasn’t properly breathing earlier. Now, nose tucked against the alpha’s scent gland, his gasp of air is flooded with the calming scent of a familiar alpha.
“Can I scent you?” Ilya asks gently, one hand reaching up to scratch at the back of Shane’s head. Shane nods his consent, not really trusting his voice.
Ilya scruffs him with one hand, wrapping his palm around the back of Shane’s neck and squeezing until the omega is melting against his front. With his other hand, he maintains the firm embrace keeping him close. Practically keeping him standing, too, at this point.
He ducks down just enough to nose at Shane’s mating gland, starting to slowly scent Shane until the omega is putty in his arms.
“There you go, malysh.” baby." Ilya coos, releasing waves of his soothing scent. Shane’s pretty sure the cottage reeks of anxious omega. Ilya’s probably trying to mitigate some of the stench with his own soft, calming pheromones.
Shane loses track of how long they stand in the entryway simply holding each other. With every breath he takes, he feels more like a person again. He’s still achy and cold and itching for something he can’t name, but it’s easier to breathe and he can tell up from down now that Ilya is here.
What’s that saying about finding True North?
Ilya pulls back after a little while, looking down until Shane tilts his head up to make eye contact.
“Hello Shane.” He smiles. A genuine smile this time.
“Hi Ilya.” Shane doesn’t smile per se, but he feels all the muscles in his face relax. “Glad you’re here.”
“I am glad I’m here, too,” Ilya hums, looking Shane over. “You scared me a little,” he frowns with a little furrow between his eyebrows.
“Oh. Sorry.” Shane didn’t know why he scared the alpha. Not texting back for four hours? Smelling and looking like hell? Waking him up at 5 am to say pre-heat slammed into him and he feels a bit like death?
“No sorries, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Ilya shakes his head. “I just am glad to be here to help you feel better, okay?”
Shane lets out a noncommittal sound.
“You will let me help you?” Ilya presses for a verbal response.
“Yeah. Okay,” he nods, letting Ilya look into his eyes to see he’s telling the truth. The alpha nods, apparently satisfied with whatever he sees.
“Good. Good boy,” Ilya nods, obviously pleased. “Just relax. I will take care of things,” he presses a lingering kiss to the top of Shane’s head.
A part of Shane though the alpha might hold back from the obvious caretaking until Shane was deep in heat. Alphas are naturally protective toward their omegas, sure, but Shane is not Ilya’s omega. Not really. Not in the ways that matter.
But Ilya took one glance at Shane’s disheveled presence and one whiff of his sad scent and has apparently given into his base desires.
Shane also thought he’d need their previously scheduled four days of settling and wading into pre-heat to ease himself into feeling comfortable at being the sole attention of Ilya’s caretaking, but he can’t feel anything but relief that Ilya’s here and taking charge of everything.
He needs to let go. He feels so high strung, like a wire about to snap, and he needs something to catch his fall.
Ilya looks like he’s more than happy to be that someone.
With a final brush of his thumb against Shane’s scent gland, Ilya turns them around and places his arms around Shane’s waist from behind. He walks them further into the cottage, leaving his bags by the door in favor of getting them into the house.
The alpha helps Shane sit at a bar stool and Shane goes easily, content to let Ilya look around for a moment, too tired to offer a full tour.
Ilya glances at the floor-to-ceiling windows with a little frown and walks a few paces to check out the den before turning back around.
“You have lunch yet?” Ilya wanders into the kitchen, glancing at Shane over his shoulder before reaching for the cabinets.
“Um–” Shane swallows uncomfortably. He did not have lunch yet. He’s actually not sure he’s eaten anything today.
Ilya’s hands pause midair. He turns around, assessing Shane with a pointed look and reading him like a fucking book, because of course he does.
“You haven’t had anything today? Shane. Please tell me you ate something,” he walks around the island to stand in front of Shane, grabbing his chin in a gentle hold. Shane fixes his gaze on the floor, unable to look him in the eye, flooded with a sense of shame at being so shit at taking care of himself. “Oh Shane,” Ilya coos sadly. “It’s okay, I’ll make something. You must be feeling awful, huh?”
Shane shrugs half-heartedly.
Maybe that’s where half the cramping in his stomach is coming from. He’s gotten used to feeling so empty inside that he forgot that part of that emptiness is literal.
Ilya places a quick kiss to his temple and mumbles something in Russian, walking back over to the fridge to assess what Shane has. He ends up pulling out two meal-prepped portions of salmon, boiled veggies, and brown rice, only frowning a little with what Shane is sure is mild judgement at Shane’s diet.
Ilya adds half an avocado to each of their portions and tops them with a generous amount of Sriracha and one of Shane’s guilty-pleasure sauces, taking both bowls, cutlery, and two pre-filled reusable water bottles over to the couch before coming back to retrieve Shane.
He probably should’ve walked over to the den on his own, but the feeling of Ilya’s strong arm around his waist as he guides him a few meters feels exceptionally nice.
“One moment, malysh, baby, let me grab one last thing,” Ilya makes sure Shane is comfortable under a heavy blanket before getting up.
He comes back balancing a glass bottle of cold brew, can of ginger ale, and protein bar in one hand and holding a black hoodie in the other.
“Coffee for me, ginger ale and bar for you–” he sits back down, placing the items on the coffee table. “–and sweatshirt for you, too.” Before Shane can process, the alpha is stripping him of his hoodie and tugging the other one over his head, helping Shane wiggle into the new garment.
And—Oh fuck. It smells so heavily of Ilya that it almost makes Shane dizzy.
“You like?” Shane peels his eyes open from where he’d inadvertently closed them and looks at Ilya’s overly pleased smile. He hates to admit it, but smug looks good on him.
Shane rolls his eyes and pulls the drawstrings of the hood just an inch more so he’s further engulfed in Ilya’s scent.
“Shut up, asshole. You know I like it,” he hides his smile behind the collar of the hoodie.
“Ah– There is my Shane,” Ilya teases in response to Shane’s little quip, but something in his expression looks relieved that Shane finally managed to string more than three words together. “Ungrateful omega doesn’t even thank his alpha for being so kind and bringing his clothes all the way to Canada,” he dramatically huffs and reaches for his lunch, but Shane smacks his hand before he can pick up the bowl.
“Thank you for the hoodie and thank you for making lunch,” he smiles when Ilya turns to face him, tucking one leg underneath himself. “And thank you for coming.” Shane adds with a softer tone.
Ilya smiles genuinely though he doesn’t lose that glint in his eye. “Of course. For all of it. I am happy to help.”
Shane hides his blush by turning away and clicking on the TV. He navigates to his ‘Watch List’ and picks a new hockey documentary he’s been meaning to watch.
“This okay?” He glances at the alpha. “It’s a new documentary, ‘Red Army,’ it’s about the Soviet Union national hockey team, which, like, I get if it’s too close to home. Actually maybe we should–”
“No, no, it sounds good,” Ilya interrupts with a supportive smile. “Boring, but good. But boring is probably good for pre-heat, no? Boring hockey movie for my boring omega.” He teases.
“Yeah yeah,” Shane huffs, pressing play on the film and resting back against the cushions. He hears Ilya chuckle beside him.
Feeling more settled both emotionally and physically, Shane tucks into the food, even eating the protein bar that Ilya brought from his own stash without complaint.
It helps him finally ease into pre-heat.
He relaxes underneath the heavy blanket and the comforting scent of the alpha’s sweatshirt, taking slow bites of his food until it’s gone. He’s felt so fucking untethered all day; it’s immensely relieving to be able to breathe without feeling anxiety clawing at his lungs.
“Food okay?” Ilya asks after forty or so minutes. “Ginger ale cold enough?”
“Yeah everything’s great, thank you.” Shane smiles behind the can before taking another sip.
As they finish eating, he notices Ilya’s eyes glancing toward him every so often and the way he incrementally shifts closer to him. He’s trying not to be overbearing. It’s cute.
Whether to put the alpha out of his misery or purely to comfort his still sore omega, Shane closes the gap between them when the end credits roll and they place their empty dishes on the coffee table, tucking his legs onto the couch and resting half on Ilya’s lap.
“Hello.” Ilya smiles when Shane settles, face inches away from his. He wraps his arms around Shane’s middle, keeping him pressed close to his side.
“Hi,” Shane shrugs with a smile of his own.
“We should talk now?” Ilya’s free hand is tracing nonsense into his side. It feels nice.
“Yeah probably,” Shane nods, clearing his throat. “So, I was thinking we stick with the same rules as your rut?”
They talked a little about how things were for both of them back in February and neither had any issues with the way the weekend went. Well. Shane may have had an issue with never wanting the weekend to end, but that’s a different issue entirely.
“Yes, works for me,” Ilya nods. “No condom; yes scenting; yes biting and marks, but no mating,” he counts on his fingers. “That was all of the rules, no?”
“Yeah I think so.” Shane wades through the fog starting to cloud his mind, searching for the meticulous list he’d thought of in preparation for their partnered heat. “Oh, food.”
“Yes, I saw all your bird snacks in the fridge,” Ilya teases. “I assume you have more rabbit food all pre-portioned in your room?”
“Asshole,” Shane huffs, biting the inside of his cheek to stop his smile. “But yes, I have food that fits my diet but also gets me through my heat. I bought groceries, too, including some stuff I thought you’d like, so help yourself whenever and stuff. You don’t have to eat my shit if you don’t want.”
“I will follow your lead, okay?” Ilya smiles reassuringly. “I want you to be comfortable with me when you are in such a vulnerable place. We will eat your rabbit food, okay Hollander?”
Shane nods, knowing he’s probably blushing like crazy. It’s strange how such a simple concept as not messing with Shane’s finicky diet makes him trust the alpha all the more.
“Plus who knows, maybe all the spinach will make me strong like Popeye and I will crush you next season,” Ilya teases with a sly smile.
“Fuck off! We just won the Cup, we’re on fire this–”
“No no no, Montreal is nothing, Boston is coming for you this season,” Ilya cuts off Shane’s protest, tugging him closer to his chest. Shane pretends he doesn’t nuzzle into the alpha’s neck. “Anything else to add?”
Shane rolls his eyes but lets Ilya change the subject. He does have one thing he should probably warn the alpha about.
“I, like,” he worries his lower lip between his teeth for a beat. “Around days three or four or whatever, I kind of get really loopy? Like, I lose time, as in I don’t really remember those days when I’m out of it, so I think I’m really not-lucid during that time. Obviously I don’t know for sure because I’ve never had someone with me during my heat but, um, just a heads up.” He looks firmly down at their laps, not wanting to see the judgement in Ilya’s eyes. “Just ignore me if I say or do something super…clingy or whatever.”
“You are embarrassed?” Ilya tries to pull Shane away from his neck and ducks his head to look at Shane properly.
No fucking shit he’s embarrassed. Shane doesn’t dignify that with a response.
“Shane, look at me.” Ilya uses his free hand, the one that’s not getting tighter around his waist, to tilt his head up. “You are embarrassed about being a little heat-drunk?”
“Oh God, don’t call it that–”
“Is completely normal, Hollander, all omegas get a little,” he waves fluttering fingers around his own head, searching for a word, “fuzzy. During their heat.” He shrugs. As if it’s that easy. As if it’s okay and normal that Shane gets knot-crazy mid-heat.
“Yeah but–”
“Ugh, no ‘but’s, Hollander! ‘But’ is your favorite word,” he blows a raspberry, exaggerating his exasperation. “‘Butt’ with two Ts should be favorite word. Like, this butt,” he lowers his hand to squeeze Shane’s ass.
“Fuck you.” Shane blushes. He’s pouting, knowing Ilya will probably call him a–
“No, my angry little kotenok, kitten, fuck you.”
That. Shane knows that Russian word because Ilya’s called him an ‘angry kitten’ so many times by now.
Shane rolls his eyes, knowing his glare is doing nothing.
“Okay. Hollander, listen. For real,” Ilya moves his hand back to Shane’s lower back, inching him ever so slightly further onto his lap. “You should never ever feel embarrassed by what your omega does. Especially in heat. You have no control over it and it is completely, one-hundred-percent normal,” he hums, the percentage a little clunky with his accent. It makes Shane fight back a smile.
“Right.” Shane shrugs, his shoulder bumping Ilya’s with how close they are. “You said that before.”
“Yes, but you do not believe me,” the alpha hums with a pout. “I’ll just have to keep saying this. You didn’t tease me during my rut and I will never judge you for how your wolf acts. Nature is nature, stubborn omega.”
“Yeah, yeah. Nature is nature,” Shane repeats, willing himself to actually believe Ilya. It’s what his parents say. It’s what his doctors say. It’s what the Internet says. Somehow though, it’s a little more convincing when Ilya says it.
“Speaking of nature,” Ilya pats Shane’s hip, “I assume you didn’t make a nest yet?” The question isn’t judgmental, but it’s not really a question either. They both know Shane hasn’t.
Still, Shane shakes his head to confirm.
“Then let’s go do that. It will help you settle,” Ilya guides Shane up and off his lap, taking his hand and heading toward the front hall to grab his suitcase. He only looks to Shane for directions to the bedroom before leading them up the stairs. Shane is immensely grateful he’s taking charge.
He’s not in heat yet and has already never been one to let go of control without a fight, but it’s still nice to let someone else take the reins for a little while. Fuck knows he could use a break.
Before he can mentally prepare for the shame of the alpha seeing his perfectly made bed, they’re walking into the bedroom, stopping right at the doorway.
Ilya hums, a little displeased sound, when he takes in the sight.
“It’s okay,” Ilya squeezes Shane’s hand. He lets out a soft, comforting scent that immediately has Shane’s shoulders relaxing. It’s only then that he realizes his own scent had turned sour. “We will make it together, yes?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Ilya sits Shane down at the end of the bed as he unzips his suitcase. Shane is just now noticing its size—way too large for what the alpha would reasonably need—but it’s clear why the moment he flips it open.
Half of the thing is filled with nesting material Ilya’s brought all the way from Boston. For Shane. Nesting materials scented and packed and brought for Shane.
His omega preens at the thoughtfulness.
First, Ilya pulls out a little throw blanket. Shane recognizes it as one of the first class blankets that United Airlines passes out. The alpha must’ve stolen it on one of his flights. Typical Rozanov.
“Hold this,” he tosses the blanket at Shane, not bothering to look up from his luggage. Shane catches it and brings it up to his nose, closing his eyes as he breathes in the scent.
He lets himself scent the blanket while Ilya unpacks the rest of the nesting materials, not paying attention as he adds to the pile next to him.
“Okay kotenok,” kitten," Ilya chuckles, standing up in front of the omega. It’s only then that Shane realizes he’s purring as he rubs the blanket over his cheek. “Ready?”
Shane nods, knowing he’s blushing furiously but his head is starting to get really fuzzy. His heat will start by tomorrow, then.
He crawls to the center of the bed, facing Ilya as he walks to the end. Ilya smiles softly at him and Shane can’t hold back his own little grin.
First, the alpha passes him a pillow Shane doesn’t recognize. But one whiff of the thing confirms that it’s Ilya’s that he’s brought from home.
“Yum,” he accidentally lets out when Ilya passes the pillow to him, shoving his face into it before he can quell his instincts.
“Smells good, huh omega?” Ilya chuckles fondly.
Shane nods shyly when he removes his face. He places the pillow on top of his own two, stacking them like a cozy pyramid. He places the airline blanket by the head of the bed, too, turning back to the alpha when he feels it’s sufficiently placed.
Ilya smiles supportively, handing him one of Shane’s fuzzy blankets for him to place next. They continue like that until Shane’s built a little cocoon of blankets, pillows, and Ilya’s soft, deeply scented clothes that takes up the whole upper part of his bed.
His omega purrs happily as he works and Shane finds that as the minutes tick by, he’s less and less embarrassed by the sound. It helps that the sweet smile never leaves Ilya’s face.
“It’s a very pretty nest, omega,” Ilya praises with a soft voice when Shane looks to him, finding his omega is subconsciously looking for approval from who he deems is his alpha.
“Yeah, whatever,” he blushes, trying to maintain some composure, deep in pre-heat but still lucid enough to try and hold his own.
“Very pretty. I say so.” Ilya nods, leaving no room for Shane to minimize the compliment again. He comes to the side of the mattress, reaching a hand out to Shane. “Let’s take a bath, okay? It will help your omega settle.”
Shane follows him into the en suite, watching Ilya familiarize himself with the room and get bath supplies ready.
Something like jealousy tugs in Shane’s gut.
All afternoon, Ilya has been perfect. Too perfect.
The scenting, the scruffing, the bringing his own nesting materials, and now the way he’s creating the perfect cozy ambiance with stupid half-dimmed lights and his soothing scent and the steam rising from the bathtub.
Shane watches him work.
Ilya turns the tap to the hottest setting, tipping a bottle of lavender scented body wash right into the stream to try and make bubbles, frowning with a cute pout when it doesn’t work like proper bubble bath solution would.
He’s perfect.
Plus he’s used that word twice now. ‘Settle.’
That’s exactly what it feels like. It feels like Ilya is gently guiding him into his heat, helping him relax into his cycle whereas he usually feels wildly out of control until he’s officially under, like tumbling off the edge of a cliff into unfriendly water.
He’s suddenly painfully aware that Ilya’s done this before. He’s helped other omegas through their heats, omegas who are not Shane, and learned what helps them feel the most comfortable during their cycles.
The thought makes his omega whine. He quickly pushes it away.
“The bubbles did not really work,” Ilya stands up, pouting with his hands on his hips. Despite his newly sour mood, Shane can’t help but grin a little.
Ilya scents the air, nose prickling as he picks up the downturn in Shane’s pheromones.
“Okay. Come omega, let’s bath,” he walks over to Shane, reaching for the hem of his hoodie.
“It’s ‘bathe,’ Ilya,” Shane corrects, still smiling softly. “Or ‘take a bath’ if you meant that.” He nods his permission for Ilya to undress him.
“Eh, potato tomato,” Ilya shrugs, making a silly face when he gets the hoodie up and over Shane’s head. He knows Ilya knows the correct phrase. The alpha just wants to make him laugh.
It works.
Shane is still smiling like an idiot by the time Ilya has stripped them both, tossing the hoodie Shane was wearing out into the bedroom, but leaving the rest of their clothes in a pile on the floor. Normally Shane would put up a fuss and toss them into the hamper, but he’s too fuzzy to care all that much, happy to ignore everything else and follow Ilya into the bath.
Ilya helps them settle into the tub, Shane cuddled to his front despite the tight-ish fit. The bathtub is standard sized, hardly as big as the alpha’s which easily fit both professional athletes with room to spare.
Shane isn’t one for luxury. Indulgence.
Still, there’s something nice about the way he’s basically in Ilya’s lap. His omega certainly isn’t complaining.
Ilya has them sit in silence for a few minutes, soaking in the bubbles and breathing in the relaxing lavender smell of the bath salt, the one scent that doesn’t have Shane prickling when he’s sensitive with pre-heat.
After Shane officially feels like a puddle of omega-shaped goo, Ilya starts to wash them. He spends extra time running sudsy fingers over every inch of Shane’s skin, whispering softly as he goes. Shane closes his eyes and tips his head against Ilya’s chest.
The last lucid part of his brain warns him that this is way too romantic for their casual relationship. That voice is quickly drowned out by Shane’s omega, happily basking in the caretaking of its alpha.
This close to heat, Shane gives in and agrees with his omega.
When the water starts to cool, Ilya gives himself a quick scrub and guides Shane out of the tub, standing there dripping water onto the bathmat while he dries the omega off with a fluffy towel. He wraps Shane in the towel and helps sit on the rim of the tub to give himself a cursory once-over with his own towel, wrapping it around his hips before leading them back into the bedroom.
“Okay, omega, can you answer a question for me?” Ilya sits Shane at the end of the bed, bending down and looking him in the eye with a little crinkle between his brows. Shane wants to reach out and soothe it away. “Shane?”
What? Oh right, question.
Duh, he can answer a question, he’s not an idiot.
But when he goes to sass the alpha for being obtuse, he finds he can only let out a soft whine.
“It’s okay, pup,” Ilya caresses Shane’s cheek with a gentle palm. “Only question is for pajamas, da?” okay?"
Shane nods, trying to clear the fog from his brain. He doesn’t know why that makes Ilya smile fondly at him.
“Do you want to wear my clothes, your clothes, or no clothes?” The alpha speaks slowly, carefully listing Shane’s options. Shane cocks his head to the side, only halfway understanding. “Okay, wait– Change question, sorry, sorry. Are you feeling hot or do you want fuzzy clothes?”
Shane tries to think about it. He’s starting to get pretty shivery sitting here naked and it would be nice to be bundled in something soft that smells like Ilya. The ‘heat’ part of his heat doesn’t actually start until he’s officially under. Normally he’s actually really fucking cold during pre-heat.
So fuzzy clothes. Ilya’s fuzzy clothes.
He points a shaky finger at Ilya, tapping his damp chest to try and convey his answer.
“My clothes?” Ilya catches his hand and presses a soft kiss to his fingertip.
“Yes please,” Shane smiles, happy the alpha understood.
“Oh how nice, my omega is so polite,” Ilya coos with a gentle pat to Shane’s cheek before he heads over to his luggage and picks out clothes for the two of them.
He ends up dressing Shane in a pair of his boxers, sweats, and a Bears hoodie that normal-Shane would detest, but heat-Shane delights in.
The alpha tugs on a pair of briefs and a plain tee, more appropriately dressed for the late July weather, but he’s not the one flooded with hormones so he doesn’t bat an eye as he picks out a pair of fuzzy socks for Shane and rolls them up his feet.
“Okay, all dressed,” he smiles up at Shane from where he’s kneeled at his feet. “Hungry? It’s–” he tilts his head to glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table, “–just before 8 o’clock. We can eat some food and maybe watch a movie. Sound okay?”
Shane nods with a sleepy grin. At this point, Ilya could probably suggest they go sky diving and Shane would happily nod along.
“Okay, let’s go then,” The alpha brings them both back to the kitchen, grabbing another pre-portioned meal and heading down to the den. Before he settles on the couch though, he grabs a few blankets from the wicker basket and wraps Shane in them, cuddling the omega close when he climbs onto the couch next to him.
Without consulting Shane, Ilya clicks through the ‘Watch Again’ playlist and chooses a random hockey film, something Shane’s already seen and would enjoy regardless so doesn’t have to pay any attention and can tune it out as comforting background noise.
In his burrito form, Shane can’t use his arms, but he has no problem letting Ilya feed him bites of dinner. He only knows it’s one of the quinoa bowls because he prepped it himself, not because he’s paying any attention to it now.
His head is officially too fuzzy for much higher functioning.
Usually, he resents this part of his cycle.
He hates not having control, hates that his brain isn’t working like it should. He has the wherewithal to recognise he’s losing control, but not the energy to do anything about it. It’s insanely frustrating and only adds to the laundry list of reasons Shane dislikes his second gender.
But tucked under Ilya’s arm, head resting on his chest, it’s not so bad.
He lets the alpha feed him dinner and usher him upstairs to the ensuite. Ilya guides him through a quick bedtime routine, making silly faces at him in the mirror as they brush their teeth side by side before he settles them both into the nest, tucking Shane against his chest, lying front to front with Shane splayed on top.
It can’t be more than 10 pm, but Shane feels half asleep already. His eyes flutter closed and he makes a sleepy sound as his body loses its fight for wakefulness.
“Goodnight, omega,” he hears Ilya whisper. He scratches at the back of Shane’s head, massaging into his scalp. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Shane gives a little nod and hums his assent, but feels sleep drag him under before he can actually reply.
It’s fine. He’s sure Ilya doesn’t mind. His happy-alpha scent lets Shane know he’s not all too bothered with how their night is ending.
— — — — 🖤— — — —
22 July 2015
Wednesday
02:10 AM
— — — — — — — —
Shane wakes up slowly. Before he opens his eyes he can tell his heat has officially started.
He first notices the incredible ache deep in his gut, a primal longing that only an alpha can fix. Lucky for him though, the second thing he notices is the alpha spooning him from behind, tucked as close to his body as humanly possible.
“Omega, you are awake, hmm?” Ilya hums gently, kissing across Shane’s neck.
Oh. That feels nice.
“Shane?” Ilya trails his free hand over Shane’s bicep, probably seeing if the omega is really starting to wake up. He leans back just enough to click on the lamp on the bedside table, cutting through the pitch black with the soft light.
Shane tries to confirm that he’s up. Confirm that his heat has officially started. Confirm anything, really.
“Alpha–”
The needy whine is all he can let out.
“Okay, okay, shh,” Ilya shushes gently, helping Shane roll over so he’s on his back. The alpha moves to plank over him, somehow reading Shane’s mind and covering him with his full body just like his omega craves. “Shh shh, I am here. I am here, omega.”
Shane is hot.
He’s so fucking hot. He’s fucking boiling.
“Alpha,” he whines again, trying to convey his discomfort but finding himself lost for words. Any words. “Alpha–” Well. Except for that one, apparently.
Ilya hushes him again, kissing the pleas off his tongue.
“I’m here,” he reassures Shane with a little coo. He kisses Shane again, sitting up on his knees and running both hands over Shane’s torso.
Shane fucking hates this part, too. He’s overheated and achingly empty and entirely unsettled as his body enters its cycle. He’s out of it but still holding onto an ounce of lucidity, a frustrating mix of knowing what he needs but being too uncoordinated to get it quick enough.
“Let's get these clothes off, okay?” Ilya whispers with a soft, reassuring tone.
Shane nods rapidly, lifting his arms to help Ilya strip him off the hoodie. The sweats, boxers, and socks come off next, Ilya kissing across Shane’s feverish skin as he tosses the clothing aside. He strips off his own clothing, too, leaving them both naked.
“Okay. Is better, yes?” He kisses Shane, licking the omega’s responding hum of affirmation of his lips.
Sitting back up, Ilya opens Shane’s legs so he can settle in between them, hands still soothing across his overheated skin. Shane reaches for the alpha, shaky hands grabbing at his shoulders.
“Breathe,” Ilya commands with an exaggerated inhale, demonstrating deep breaths for Shane to copy.
He does his best to follow along, taking several steady gulps of air, letting Ilya’s deep, comforting pheromones enter his lungs and make a home there.
Finally, his body starts to relax.
His shoulders melt into the mattress. His head lolls against the pillow. His eyes flutter half-closed.
“There you go, moy lyubimyy,” my love," Ilya praises. “Settle. Let me take care of you.”
Shane nods lazily, body starting to ease into heat.
Trusting that the omega can breathe on his own, Ilya turns his focus to Shane’s body.
“Oh pretty thing, look at you,” he eyes Shane’s aching cock. It’s only when he touches it that Shane’s brain catches up with his body and suddenly he’s desperate for release, realizing that he’s leaking both from his cock and his hole.
“Alpha,” he whines once again, bucking up into Ilya’s fist. “Touch me. Need it.”
“Of course, I have you” Ilya hushes softly, stroking long and hard over Shane’s length. He doesn’t tease, probably knowing how sensitive Shane is as he enters the full brunt of his cycle. “Let go. Just let go, Shane.”
One hand squeezes at Shane’s thigh, the other jerking him off with a steady pace.
It’s barely minutes later that Shane is tipping over the edge, falling into his first orgasm of his heat. The first of countless, surely.
“Good boy,” Ilya praises him as he shudders through his release. “There you go, malysh.” baby." He uses his thumb to rub Shane’s come into the tip of his cock as he works his hand.
Shane’s hands fall to his sides as he comes down from his high. His heart is racing, breath puffing and blood coursing through his veins with fervor. His cock doesn’t even flag despite his orgasm.
“So beautiful,” the alpha praises, leaning down for a kiss. “Ready for more?” He makes sure he has Shane’s eye when he asks.
“Yes please,” Shane bites his bottom lip, hips lazily thrusting into Ilya’s fist.
The alpha smiles at his politeness, pecking a chaste kiss to his jaw before sitting back up. This time, he helps Shane tilt his hips up and rests Shane’s spread thighs on his own.
With this angle, Ilya can see Shane’s weeping hole. He runs teasing fingertips up Shane’s inner thighs, pinching one of his hips.
“Ilya, please,” Shane whimpers. “Don’t tease.”
“Okay, okay,” Ilya glances up at Shane’s face before fixing his gaze on his hole. He presses both thumbs against Shane’s rim, carefully opening him and watching as a little gush of slick dribbles out.
Shane keens, face flushing at feeling so exposed for his alpha. His alpha. What a lovely idea.
He grows incrementally more desperate as Ilya plays with his hole until he’s finally begging for him to give him more, heat washing over him with fire.
With one more kiss against Shane’s lips, Ilya helps him turn over onto his front, hands gripping his waist to steady him.
“Good omega,” the alpha growls as Shane melts into the mattress. He starts rutting his cock in between Shane’s cheeks, brushing over his hole with every other thrust and it’s only making Shane more delirious with want. “Just breathe. I am here, I’m here.”
“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.
Ilya hums again, deep in his chest. He starts to kiss down Shane’s back, stopping to bite at the dimples at the base of his spine on his way to his ass.
Shane feels the alpha 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.
Oh.
That’s exactly what Shane wants right now. Presenting for his alpha like a good omega should.
He melts against the mattress, chest pressed down against the soft blankets and hands gripping the pillow as he braces himself for a touch that never comes.
“Alpha–” 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 purrs, eyes never leaving Shane’s hole. “I just need to taste you, pretty omega.”
Shane hums happily as Ilya’s hands finally 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.
Ilya spends at least ten minutes just licking and sucking around Shane’s hole, leaving sloppy kisses against his cheeks and little bites across his hips, teasing Shane until his hole truly is begging for it, wet and open and leaking.
When Shane feels like he’s about to go crazy with lust, the alpha adds his hands into the mix. He squeezes Shane’s cheeks and pinches his hips and presses inside with two fingers, immediately seeking out his prostate.
Another ten minutes must go by. Not that Shane can track time all that well anyway.
He feels another orgasm start to build, starting low in his gut with every pass of the alpha’s fingers over his prostate. He moans into the pillow, pressing back against those perfect fingers.
“Are you going to come, sweet thing?” Ilya gruffs behind him, biting at the curve where his ass meets his thigh. “You smell so sweet when you’re close.” He licks a long stripe over Shane’s hole after he whispers the praise.
“Uh huh, gonna come.” Shane mewls, breath stuttering. His hips are now moving in tandem with the alpha, rocking back and forth to meet his hand as he chases his orgasm.
“Let go, malysh,” baby," Ilya coos. He helps keep Shane steady with his free hand gripping his waist. “Come for me.”
“Fuck,” Shane breathes out, a little needy whine escaping as his orgasm rolls through him. The alpha talks him through it, a beautiful mix of Russian and English praising him and whispering something sweet sounding.
“There you go,” Ilya starts to remove his fingers, probably not wanting to overstimulate him, but Shane whines in protest before he can take them all the way out.
“No, please–” he uses what’s left of his dwindling strength to turn his neck and look the alpha in the eye. “More, please. Need more. Need you.” He begs with tears stinging at his eyes, desperation rising at the thought of the alpha leaving him.
“Okay, okay,” Ilya nods, fingers staying where they are. “You can take more? It’s not too much?”
Shane nods, biting his lip. “Please knot me,” he whispers, wiggling his ass. “Need your knot, alpha. Need you.”
Ilya swears in Russian, head coming down to thunk against Shane’s ass. He bites at the cheek with a teasing nibble before looking back up at Shane.
“Okay, perfect omega.” His eyes are pitch black now. “I’ll give you my knot.”
Shane trills happily, letting his head drop down onto the crook of his arm, satisfied his alpha isn’t stopping any time soon. There’s still remnants of that fire under his skin. The first two orgasms didn’t quite quell the flames.
Ilya kisses his hip as he presses another two fingers inside him, wasting no more time ensuring he’s stretched enough to take his knot. He thankfully doesn’t tease anymore. He scissors his fingers and avoids Shane’s prostate, focusing on loosening the muscle into full relaxation.
“Okay?” Ilya asks with a hoarse whisper.
“Yeah—Yeah, s’okay,” Shane pulls back out of the crook of his arm just enough to let out. “Please. Please knot me,” he whines with a shaky breath, forehead dropping back down as the alpha removes his fingers and gets up onto his knees.
“Okay pup, I’ll knot you,” Ilya growls softly. Shane can hear something wet and he thinks the alpha is touching himself, slicking his cock up with Shane’s slick. The picture makes him shiver.
“Yeah.” Shane moans deep in his chest when Ilya leans over his back, blanketing him with his body and scent.
“Are you ready, pretty omega?” Ilya asks with a bitten off growl.
“Yes alpha. Please.” Shane whimpers, biting his lip in anticipation.
Ilya 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 the pillow to trap a whimper as he enters him.
“Omega,” Ilya 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. “Let me hear you.”
Shane moans in response, pawing at the bedsheets. “Fuck, alpha–”
Ilya groans, 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.
He’s missed this.
He can’t believe he went so long without Ilya’s cock splitting him open.
(The rational part of his brain reminds him they fucked not five weeks ago at the NHL Awards, but it’s nowhere near as loud as his omega, singing Ilya’s praises as he fills him up so deliciously.)
Shane starts to press back onto his cock, meeting his thrusts and spurring the alpha on. Ilya, of course, gets the hint. He pulls out until the head of his cock teases his rim and slams back into him, balls slapping Shane’s ass.
“Oh—Oh my fucking God.” Shane groans. “Jesus fuck–” he pants when Ilya doesn’t let up, keeping the brutal pace with his usual athleticism, gripping Shane’s hips like he’s holding on for dear life. Shane knows bruises will appear, just like after Ilya’s rut. He can’t fucking wait to see them.
“There you go, malysh.” baby." Ilya coos, leaning over Shane’s prone body. “Just let go. Let go for me, omega.”
Just as intense as the first two, his third orgasm builds with fervor. A little part of him wants this to last longer, but it’s only the first knot of his heat. He’s got plenty more to come.
It’s like he wills the damn thing because Ilya’s knot starts to bump against Shane’s rim as soon as he pictures it.
“Yes. 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 Ilya’s scent. “Knot me alpha, please fuckin’ fill me up.”
“Of course, omega. Asking so nicely, of course I’ll fill you with my come. With my pups.” He groans into Shane’s ear and scents the omega, emitting more of his commanding pheromones, somehow managing to maintain his biting 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. C’mon.” He keens, pressing his hips back with what limited mobility he has, what with Ilya’s impossibly tight grip on his waist.
On his next thrust, Ilya eases his knot inside Shane, resorting to little grinds of his hips as it starts to swell.
Oh God. Oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck–
Ilya wraps a hand around Shane’s neglected cock, fisting it frantically as Shane feels his orgasm build. He whines into the pillow, cheek smushed against it with how heavy his head feels.
After two more thrusts from the alpha towering behind him, Shane is helpless against his release, shivering and moaning as his orgasm washes over him, all too aware of Ilya’s presence on top of him, stuffing him full of his knot as it fully pops and locks them together.
“Beautiful omega–” Ilya growls as his cock pumps hot come deep inside Shane. “Tak krasivo dlya menya.” "So beautiful for me."
The Russian is lost on Shane, but he gets the gist by the way Ilya is moaning against Shane’s sweaty skin. He bites into the back of his neck, not hard enough to actually hurt, more like he’s trying to ground himself against the onslaught of pleasure. Shane knows the feeling. He’s still biting the pillow, himself.
Ilya keeps whispering as they breathe together, running his hands over Shane’s torso until the omega feels like he knows where up and down are again.
The itching under his skin has stopped for now. He feels fucked-out and sleepy and no longer delirious with want with a knot in his ass and alpha rumbling on top of him.
Shane hums when Ilya tilts them to the side, tucking him to his front and covering the both of them with a soft blanket. It’s one he brought from Boston, Shane can tell. It smells so heavenly, he almost wants to cry.
“Okay, pup. Let’s sleep,” the alpha rumbles, kissing Shane’s neck.
Shane happily obeys, closing his eyes and sighing against the pillow, falling back asleep wrapped in the comforting scent of his alpha.
— — — — 🖤— — — —
When Shane’s fuzzy mind struggles into consciousness the second time this morning, he’s achingly hot again, body shivering yet overheated at the same time.
He needs an alpha.
He needs his alpha.
“Alpha,” no sooner than he whimpers out the word, Ilya is there, turning him on his side so they’re face to face.
“It’s okay, I’m here,” he mumbles, kissing across Shane’s cheekbones until the omega opens his eyes. Ilya is smiling at him. What a nice sight to wake up to.
The niceness doesn’t last though. Shane’s body reminds him he’s way too empty than he needs to be.
He doesn’t have to tell Ilya he needs him, though. The alpha pulls him in for a kiss and wraps an arm around his body, fingers immediately finding Shane’s hole like he’s reading his mind. Shane moans into the kiss, melting against the alpha.
Ilya lets him lick into his mouth and suck his bottom lip until he’s satisfied he’s kissed every millimeter of the alpha’s mouth, pulling back with a hunger for more.
“Good morning, omega,” Ilya smiles, eyes darting over Shane’s face, most likely analyzing how deep into the wave of heat Shane is. “Need me again?”
Shane only whines in response.
“Okay, okay,” Ilya smiles, toothy and boyish, but dutifully rolls them over so he’s planking over Shane, crowding him against the mattress.
Ilya leans down at the same time that Shane arches his back, meeting each other in the middle for a heated kiss.
Shane reaches up to wrap his arms around Ilya’s shoulders, keeping him close as they kiss for a moment or two until the fire in his veins is too much to ignore.
“Ilya please touch me,” he mumbles against the alpha’s lips, bucking up against him to rub his aching cock against his abs.
“Okay, omega.” The alpha trails the hand not bracing himself over Shane down his abs. “Good?” He checks in before touching any more.
Shane nods, biting his lower lip. More than good. Very very good.
Ilya wraps his hand around Shane’s cock, already an angry shade of red and starting to leak at the tip.
“Oh—Yeah,” Shane gasps as the alpha dips his thumb into his slit, gathering the precome beading there and slicking up his shaft with it. He can’t help but shut his eyes as Ilya works him over with expert fingers.
Not long after, Ilya’s hand reaches lower to toy with Shane’s hole, circling his entrance with two eager fingers.
“Okay?” He checks in again, tapping Shane’s thigh so he’ll look down at him.
“Yes, thank you.” Shane sighs breathlessly, legs opening wider to accommodate the alpha. Ilya shifts down so he’s on his knees between them, staring at Shane’s leaking hole.
“So polite.” Ilya smiles up at him. Shane blushes as the praise washes over him.
Ilya returns his attention to Shane’s hole, biting little marks where he pleases and working Shane up until he’s slick and writhing against the sheets. It’s only when Shane knows he’s leaking copious amounts of slick that Ilya adds two searching fingers into the mix, rubbing up and down his taint and circling his hole with teasing touches.
“Yes please,” he’s moaning before the alpha can even ask for his go-ahead.
Ilya lets out a soft grunt as he presses in with those two fingers, not stopping until they’re all the way in.
Shane moans breathlessly, a shaky sound punched out of his lungs, hips pressing back against his hand, body silently demanding more. “More. Please.”
“Okay. Okay pup, I am here.”
The alpha starts to finger Shane with purpose. He’s stretching Shane without reaching for his prostate as if he can read the omega’s mind and can tell Shane is one moment away from begging for his knot.
Shane shuts his eyes as he shivers with pleasure, letting the fire wash over him.
He keeps his eyes closed tight until the alpha is sitting up on his knees, hands bracing under Shane’s thighs and pressing up so he’s splayed out in their nest, body wide open and ready for him.
He peels his eyelids open, knowing Ilya won’t move another muscle until he does so.
“Yes?”
“Yes. Yes please, alpha.”
“Don’t you ask so nicely, pretty omega?” Ilya smiles. “You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?”
Shane isn’t sure if the question is rhetorical. It doesn’t really matter though, he can’t bring himself to respond anyway.
The alpha keeps Shane’s gaze as he presses in. He moves slowly, pushing in inch by inch until his hips meet Shane’s.
“Oh,” Shane gasps, fingers tangling in the blankets underneath his shivering body. He feels his hole flutter around the alpha’s cock and forces his body to relax.
“Feel good?” Ilya leans forward, stretching Shane’s hamstrings even more.
“Mhm.” Shane nods, biting the inside of his lip. He releases it with a wet pop. “Feels perfect,” he somehow manages to breathe out.
“Good.” Ilya smells as pleased as he looks. Shane lets his pheromones soak into his bloodstream, body producing more of his own heat-drenched scent in response.
He doesn’t know if it’s the burn in his thighs or the change in the angle of Ilya’s thrusts that has Shane crying out with a wanton whine, but the sound is pulled out of his chest without his permission.
“Oh—Oh, oh fuck,” He moans, hands clawing down the alpha’s back as he shakes with a full-body shiver.
Ilya moans in tandem with Shane’s intensifying whimpers, biting his lip and breathing heavily through his nose as his hips move.
“Alpha.” Shane reaches for Ilya’s shoulders. He’s getting close. Really really close.
The subtle but distracting change in Ilya’s scent lets him know the alpha is just as aware of Shane’s building orgasm.
“You are going to come, huh omega?” Ilya breathes out, lips brushing against the omega’s as he speaks. Shane feels his knot poke at his hole and inadvertently clenches down harder on his cock. “Oh fuck,” Ilya groans.
“Please—Please, please–” Shane begs, too hazy with heat to formulate a real plea.
“Of course, pup,” Ilya kisses his whines off his lips, sitting back up on his knees so he can ease his half-inflated knot inside.
Shane melts against the blankets when it’s all the way inside, body relaxing at the feeling of being filled. Being claimed.
“There you go,” Ilya praises with a gentle hum. “Just let go, malysh. baby. I have you.”
“Fuck! Oh my—Yeah,” Shane feels the inferno inside him explode.
Ilya’s knot expands at the same time Shane shivers through his orgasm, head tossed back but eyes still trained on the alpha’s face as he’s lost to his own pleasure, tumbling into his own release alongside the omega.
The fog in Shane’s head takes over, clouding his brain and making everything go syrupy smooth for a little while.
The heat under his skin is reduced to a simmer and he’s more than content to relax into the clouds, letting the alpha take care of things for a little while. All he knows is that he's comfortable and safe and cozy and Ilya’s.
When his brain clicks back online, he’s plastered up against Ilya’s front, head tucked into his neck with his knot still tying them together. He hums happily, nosing further into Ilya’s skin.
“Back with me, omega?” Ilya’s fingers dance across Shane’s back, leaving little goosebumps in their wake.
Shane nods, a little tip of his head, but doesn’t make any move to shift positions.
“Feeling okay?” Ilya’s voice is soft and hushed. Shane wants to kiss him, but he wants to scent him more, so he stays where he is.
“Mhm,” Shane hums his agreement. Feeling very okay. More than very okay. Probably perfect, even. Shane tries to convey his thought process through a little trill. He’s not sure how successful he is.
“Okay malysh,” baby," Ilya chuckles. It’s only when he pats at Shane’s hip that Shane realizes he’s purring. Whatever. He’s too content to try and stop it. “I’m going to get us some water, okay?”
Shane doesn’t want him to get up and he makes his displeasure known with a little whine, untucking his face enough to frown at the alpha.
“Don’t give me that look, pup,” Ilya coos sadly, “I put a bottle on the nightstand–” he leans over, only rocking their bodies a few inches before resettling, suddenly holding a water bottle in his hands. Wow. He must be a magician.
Ilya clicks the button to open the cap and places the straw in Shane’s mouth, watching with a smile as he drinks a few gulps.
“There you go, good job,” he hums, only bringing the straw to his own lips when Shane pulls back. He makes Shane finish the last few sips, shaking the bottle to check that it’s empty before placing it just outside the nest.
Shane goes back to scenting the alpha while they wait for his knot to go down, humming happily as he places a few kisses around Ilya’s neck and jaw. Ilya is talking to him, but Shane isn’t really listening.
He’s pretty sure the alpha is aware of that, though, so he doesn’t try to force himself to understand whatever he’s saying.
When his knot finally softens, Ilya pulls out incredibly carefully, shushing Shane’s little whine of protest, and wipes them off with his discarded briefs from last night, tossing them onto the floor when he’s done.
“Okay Shane,” he pats Shane’s lower hip, half his hand on Shane’s ass. “We need some food.”
“No.” Shane shakes his head, grinning to himself when the movement forces him to take in more of Ilya’s scent.
“Yes,” Ilya huffs. Shane can tell he’s smiling, too. “Luckily you are so smart though, huh? You got this fancy refrigerator right here, so I don’t have to go far.” Ilya starts to untangle their limbs, kissing Shane’s whine before it escapes his mouth. “Wait here, dorogoy. sweetheart. I will be two seconds.”
Shane pouts to himself, watching as Ilya steps out of the nest with one foot on the floor, leaning over to open the mini fridge and placing a few items on the bedside table. Shane grabs the ankle still in the nest, squeezing it to make sure the alpha isn’t going to leave him.
“There we go, eh?” Ilya huffs when he’s settled back against the headboard. “Wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“Was.” Shane frowns, crawling back in Ilya’s lap. Ilya laughs, opening his arms and cuddling Shane close.
“Okay, okay,” he placates with a few kisses to Shane’s head. “I will never ever leave the nest again.”
“Good. Thank you.” Shane smiles.
“Of course, omega. I’ll stay right here.” Ilya squeezes Shane for a long moment before letting go with another kiss to his forehead.
Then Ilya, like a lying liar, starts to leave again and Shane has to grab his shoulders to stop him.
“Hey!” Shane squeaks in protest.
“Shh, sorry, sorry–” he soothes Shane’s worried chirp with a peck on his lips. “Just leaning over to get some food, okay?”
Oh. Fine.
“Silly pup,” Ilya smiles knowingly, reaching to the nightstand to get two shaker bottles of protein smoothies and a package of roasted nuts. Right. Ilya said they needed food.
Ilya gives both smoothies a shake, setting one down and opening the other, holding it to Shane’s mouth. Shane drinks for a little while, hands coming up to cup Ilya’s to keep him steady.
In between helping Shane, Ilya gulps down his own drink, keeping a watchful eye on Shane the whole time. They drink in comfortable silence until both bottles are empty. Ilya smiles proudly at Shane when he places them on the nightstand.
“Feeling okay?”
Shane nods, a little sleepy, and tucks his face back into Ilya’s shoulder. The alpha wraps his arms around Shane and cuddles him close, kissing the crown of his head before resting a hand at the back of Shane’s skull, keeping the omega’s nose tucked to his scent gland and encouraging him to scent him some more.
Ilya opens the package of nuts and feeds some to Shane one by one, letting him stay pressed to his neck and suck the salt off his fingers with each bite.
Shane starts to get drowsy, body and soul satisfied now that he’s been fed and bred. Hah. That sounds funny. He feels himself grin a little, smiling around the fingers still in his mouth.
Ilya pulls his fingers out of his mouth, tapping Shane’s lips before he pulls away.
“Sleepy?” He tilts Shane’s head up so he can look him in the eye.
Shane nods, eyes fluttering shut. He is getting pretty sleepy.
“Okay pup. Nap time,” Ilya hums, jostling Shane just a little to wrap them both in a light blanket. Shane stays pressed to his front the whole time, content to let the alpha do all the work.
“You sleep, too?” He asks, words muffled with how half of his face is squished against the alpha’s shoulder.
“Maybe,” Ilya chuckles. “But I’ll stay here the whole time, okay? I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“Hmm okay,” Shane is satisfied with the answer, sighing happily and melting into the alpha’s warmth. “G’night, alpha.” He mumbles, pursing his lips just enough to kiss Ilya’s chest.
“Goodnight, lyubimyy. love. Sleep tight, I won’t let the little bugs bite.” He pinches Shane’s waist as if his fingers were the ‘little bugs,’ but soothes over the teasing nips with soft touches moments later.
Shane smiles sleepily at the alpha’s words.
He drifts off to sleep knowing Ilya will stay true to his promise. He’ll stay with him while he rests and he’ll take care of him when the next wave of heat inevitably strikes.
He’s very good at that. The whole ‘taking care of Shane’ thing.