Chapter Text
June
“I want a baby.”
Ilya startles at Shane’s words, nearly tripping over his feet as he spins them slowly in a circle. They are at some gala for the foundation, the night slowly winding down around them as the patrons slowly make their way out for the night.
It was a tradition of theirs whenever they had these events. They knew they would be pulled in every direction during the actual gala, entertaining their guests and rubbing elbows to help secure even more funding for their charity. Every cent they would get would go to either a donation to a mental health organization or to new gear for the kids at their camps.
But Shane and Ilya always ended the night with a dance, slowly spinning together and enjoying a tiny moment in the chaos.
The years since they were outed, married, and on the same team had been some of the happiest of Ilya’s life. Shane and him were five and three time Stanley Cup champions respectively, two of those earned together in Ottawa, and they were both playing the best hockey of their lives.
So yes, Shane’s words startled him.
They’d talked about kids before, when they first got married. Shane had told him prior to their first hook-up all those years ago that he was a carrier, wanting Ilya to know every risk going into it. It wasn’t uncommon, approximately 60% of males had the carrier gene, and it wasn’t nearly as taboo as it had been even twenty years ago.
But it was still a big deal, something that would affect Shane’s career forever.
He hadn’t been ready at the beginning of their marriage, and honestly Ilya hadn’t been either. He knew he wanted them eventually though, but since it would be Shane that would be most affected, Ilya had been content to wait until Shane approached him with the topic again.
Ilya locks eyes with Shane, a small smile playing on the corner of his mouth.
“I… what?”
“I want a baby,” he says again, his voice just as definite as it had been the first time.
“Any one in particular? Harris and Troy’s is very cute.”
Shane lets out a small laugh as he rolls his eyes, “Yours preferably.”
His eyes scan Shane’s face, looking for any indication that he’s joking or playing a trick on Ilya. Not that he thinks Shane would actually do that in this situation, but Ilya doesn’t want to get his hopes up. Shane could easily change his mind and that would almost be worse.
“Are you… sure?”
Shane nods, breaking eye contact with Ilya to scan the room, landing on where Troy and Harris are also spinning in a slow circle, their young son dressed in a baby sized suit and nestled between their chests.
“I’ve been thinking about it for a while, really since we won the Cup this year. I just wanted to be sure before I said anything.”
They are silent for a moment, Shane’s words washing over him. If he’d been thinking about it since the Cup, it means he has been thinking about this for over a month now. The song playing in the background slowly fades out, signaling the ever closer end of the gala.
“We should talk about this later, when we are not surrounded by people who do not need to know our business. And when I can think about something more than how quickly I can get you out of this suit.” He flashes a wink at Shane, a satisfied buzz thrumming through him when Shane’s cheeks instantly flush red. Even after five years of marriage and the nearly decade long relationship, both casual and serious, it still makes Ilya happy to see the effect he has on Shane.
Shane nods though, pressing a quick kiss to his husband’s lip, before they make their way to their remaining guests to say their goodbyes. Ilya leads him through the room before leading him back home and making good on his promise to get Shane out of his suit.
July
It takes them three weeks to bring the topic back up.
Despite it being the offseason, the one time when they should have time to relax and enjoy slow mornings and even slower evenings, they are constantly being pulled in one direction or another. Between their camps and their various brand deals, both together and individually, it only leaves about a month to actually enjoy the cottage these days.
Shane waits until they are in the car, a half hour into their drive out to the cottage, to talk about it again.
“I still want a baby,” Shane states. It’s a good thing Shane is the one driving the car— Ilya is pretty sure he would’ve crashed when he jumps at Shane’s words again.
“Moya lyubov, you must find a better way to start this conversation.” He huffs out a small laugh, shaking his head. “I’m never prepared.”
Shane’s eyes slide over to his, pink coloring his cheeks, before turning back to the road in front of them. “Sorry, I just… don’t know how else to start it.”
Ilya reaches over to where Shane’s hand rests on the gear shift, threading his fingers through his to quell the rising anxiety he knows Shane is feeling.
“Is okay, I am always happy to talk about this with you.” He gives Shane’s hand a quick squeeze. “Tell me what you are thinking, please.”
They are silent for a moment, letting Shane gather his thoughts.
“It’s been in my head for a while, I suppose. Especially after my birthday, realizing I wasn’t getting any younger. But I think it really hit after Harris gave birth and then Scott and Kip announcing that Kip was pregnant again.” He takes a deep breath before continuing. “I love you, and I don’t regret anything, but every single one of our friends has a partner who isn’t a hockey player. They get to have kids and build their life for after hockey, and what? We have to wait? Again?”
Ilya is silent as Shane rants because he is right. Their entire relationship has been about waiting. Waiting until it was safe to be together, waiting until they could start the foundation and become “friends”, waiting until they were ready to come out.
Waiting until Shane was ready to retire to have kids.
“My knee barely made it through the entire season,” Shane continues, “and we just won the Cup so I could end on a high note.”
That brings Ilya out of his silence.
“You would retire?”
“I can’t exactly play if I’m pregnant.”
“I know this. But you aren’t pregnant yet.”
Shane hums lightly as he mulls over Ilya’s words. Ilya keeps speaking before Shane can get too in his head about it.
“If you want to retire, I will obviously support you,” Ilya interjects hoping that Shane does not perceive his concerns with not supporting him. Ilya would always support Shane in this. “I just want to be sure we have considered everything.”
Shane nods slightly as he takes in Ilya’s words, considering them for a moment before he speaks again.
“A physical contact sport isn’t exactly the best scenario for a pregnancy.”
“No shit,” Ilya snorts a small laugh. He watches Shane’s face closely, watching for any sign that he is joking or not taking this seriously. He knows that Shane wouldn’t do that though, even if his brain refuses to let him fully understand.
“Fuck off.” Shane cuts him a small glare, but it’s missing any heat that would make Ilya think he’s actually annoyed. There is still a softness to his eyes that is present anytime he looks at Ilya and a small tilt to his mouth, the barest hint of a smile.
They drive in silence for a bit, their fingers still tangled on the gear shift between them as they get closer and closer to the cottage.
When Shane finally speaks again, it’s softer, a bit timid even. “I just don’t want to miss something. To not know and accidentally hurt them. It just makes more sense to retire.”
Ilya stays quiet, his mind still not quite believing that Shane is even hinting towards retirement. He supposes it makes sense though, Shane just turned 35 and his knee had kept him off the ice multiple times this past season.
Retirement just always felt like something that would never happen to Shane Hollander. Like he would be playing until he was 85 and being pushed onto the ice in a wheelchair.
He would probably still be better than anyone else.
Ilya squeezes Shane’s hand once, twice, and flashes him a smile before turning to look back out the window and letting the rest of the drive pass in silence.
Later, when they are at the cottage, their bags unpacked and the master bedroom thoroughly christened with their first fuck of the summer, Shane brings it up one more time.
“You haven’t said how you feel about having a baby, you know.” Ilya looks up from the vegetables he is chopping as they prepare dinner. Shane isn’t looking at him, his eyes focused solely on his own portion of vegetables in front of him.
It wasn’t often these days that Shane struggles with meeting Ilya’s eyes, their comfortability and ease allowing him the confidence to look him straight on during their daily conversations. But Ilya could always tell when Shane was nervous, his eyes strategically bouncing around Ilya’s face, never landing anywhere.
“Moya lyubov, if you had wanted children the minute we got married I would’ve said yes, you know this. My mind has not changed.” Shane looks up slowly, meeting his eyes finally. There’s a slight blush to his cheeks causing his freckles to pop. It makes Ilya want to forget dinner and take him back towards the bedroom.
“Really?”
“Mmm, really.” He sets his knife to the side so he can move to Shane’s side. His hands come to Shane’s hips, slowly turning Shane until they are face to face. “There is nothing I want more than to be a parent with you. If you are ready, I am ready.”
Shane’s face lights up with a wide smile. “Okay then, let’s have a baby.”
Ilya can feel a smile just as wide on his own face as he leans in, unable to do anything else in this moment besides kiss Shane. It’s wild, greedy, and so full of love. It’s perfectly them.
Ilya’s hands move from Shane’s waist, grabbing him under his thighs so he can lift him, never letting his lips leave Shane’s. Shane’s legs instinctually wrap around Ilya, ankles locking behind his back.
He spins them slightly, setting Shane down on the counter of the island behind them. He pulls away just slightly, Shane looking at him in confusion when Ilya reaches behind him. He rifles around slightly, looking for something specific.
His fingers skim various pill bottles, his own anti-depressants, Shane’s anti-anxiety, a pain killer for Shane’s knee, until he finally finds the one he is looking for. Really it should’ve been easier, it’s the only medication in a bubble pack.
Shane’s birth control.
He lifts it slowly, showing it to Shane before he opens the drawer beside them and drops them in the trash can. Shane shakes his head, his face still bright with his smile.
“You’re ridiculous, come back.”
Ilya lifts him back up, carrying him back to their room.
“Put me down you asshole,” Shane laughs, pushing gently on Ilya’s shoulders though he makes no real attempt to get down. He loves everything about their sex life, but it’s always undeniably hot when Ilya manhandles him a bit.
“You are with child, Hollander, I would be a bad husband if I let you walk.”
Shane laughs loudly as Ilya practically throws him on the bed. “I’m not pregnant yet.”
Ilya crawls on top of Shane, pushing him gently into the mattress. He waves a hand, rolling his eyes slightly.
“Easily fixed.”
August
Shane knows he’s being eager.
Knows that the likelihood of his hormones actually leveling out enough in a month to allow him to be pregnant is slim. He knows the stats, he looked them up more times than he cares to admit. The average person takes about three months to regulate after stopping the pill to be able to get pregnant.
And he doesn’t even have any symptoms that would lead him to believe he’s pregnant. No nausea, no tiredness, no cravings. Nothing.
But sue him, he’s excited.
Ilya’s not home, out taking Anya on her daily walk, so he knows this might be his only chance to take a test without getting his hopes up. If Shane actually thought he was pregnant, he’d wait.
If by some miracle it is positive, Shane thinks he could probably put on enough of an act that Ilya would never know he found out without him. All of the commercials he does must’ve been worth something.
So he sits there, his pants around his ankles, as he takes the test. Shane only feels a little ridiculous about the whole thing.
He cleans up after, setting the test beside the sink as he washes his hands, and sets a timer on his phone for five minutes.
Shane tries very hard to keep himself busy so that he doesn’t look early. He walks to the kitchen, filling up Anya’s food and water bowls. She’s always thirsty after a walk.
That only takes about a minute and he’s stuck staring out the windows of the cottage, watching the water slowly lap at the shoreline while he waits.
When Shane hears the alarm on his phone go off, he practically runs back into the bathroom eagerly grabbing the test. He flips it over, the words Not Pregnant clearly showing on the digital screen of the test.
His stomach drops, and he feels a bit silly for being upset, because he knew he wasn’t. But he can’t help wishing that it had said something different.
He hears the door open, Anya’s nails clicking on the hardwood and Ilya speaking rapid Russian towards the dog. Telling her to slow down and calm herself down.
Shane quickly stuffs the negative test into the trash can, crumpling a tissue and putting it on top of it so hopefully Ilya doesn’t see it. He washes his hands, before greeting Ilya in the living room. He’s sitting on the couch, pulling up British Bake Off on Netflix, and getting ready to play the next episode.
They’ve been working their way through all the old seasons.
Shane leans down, pressing a kiss to the top of Ilya’s head before flopping down on top of Ilya on the couch. Shane cuddles in close, enjoying the warmth of his husband beneath him and Ilya’s fingers carding through his hair immediately.
He might not be pregnant yet, but he knows it’ll happen soon. And until then, he’s content with this.
September
Telling the team he wasn’t coming back was probably the hardest thing Shane had ever done. He honestly expected them to be mad or hurt that he was retiring. Frustrated that he was leaving them after winning them a Stanley Cup.
The official story they would tell would be that his knee was shot, that even surgery only had a small chance of letting him return to gameplay. And so he was stepping away from the ice while he still had enough use of his knee to enjoy the rest of his 30s.
They had already had enough pushback and hostility in the sports world when they were outed and when they got married, that if the press even got a small hint of the true reason he was stepping away, it would be bad.
Shane’s name would be dragged through the mud if the media learned that he was really retiring to have a baby.
So the fact that they were trying for a baby would stay between them.
The team however, understood fully.
Ilya tells him later that he is pretty sure Luca cried, no matter how much he denies it later.
Bood has a cookout in his backyard to celebrate. They toast to Shane, celebrating his career, his accomplishments, and to thank him for helping bring Ottawa the respect they always knew it deserved as a franchise.
Shane is sitting around the fire, taking a moment to himself to breathe. He loves this team, he really does. But they are still loud, especially when they have been drinking, and sometimes he just needs a moment to himself.
“Not drinking tonight?” Harris asks him, plopping down in the seat beside him. He raises an eyebrow slightly, lifting his son towards Shane and silently asking if Shane wanted to hold him.
He accepts greedily, cradling him close.
“Nope,” Shane responds, adjusting slightly so he can sit back with the baby resting on his chest. “Never really do, you know this.”
Harris chuckles, his eyes still bright even with the permanent tiredness that seems to be present in any couple with a newborn. “True, but this is a party for you. You could probably have one drink if you wanted to.”
Shane smiles slightly, his finger gently running down the cheek of the baby on his chest. He can’t wait to have this with his own baby.
He can already picture it.
A small son or daughter, he’s really not picky, with a full head of blonde curls and Ilya’s bright blue eyes. Probably inherited his stubbornness and Ilya’s sass. A recipe for the most spoiled child on the planet.
He loves them already.
“Yeah, well…” Shane lets his voice trail off. He doesn’t really have a good reason to not drink tonight. Nobody knows that they have been trying for a baby.
Not that he is pregnant yet anyways. The test he took before they left mocking him with the huge Not Pregnant that stared back at him.
He can’t help the small pit of disappointment that he had felt when he saw that. And sure he’s still within the first three months of stopping his birth control, so maybe his hormones still aren’t back to normal levels, but he had half hoped that somehow his body would’ve done it faster.
“Do you guys want kids?” Harris asks him after a few moments of silence.
“Oh, yes,” Shane says, nodding slightly. Harris’s son snuffles slightly against him, burying himself deeper into his chest. Shane smiles down at him. “Maybe once Ilya retires.”
Harris hums, but doesn’t push and Shane knows he doesn’t fully buy that it’s his knee that is keeping him off the ice. Maybe he just knows the signs of wanting a baby, also being a carrier. But Harris is nice and won’t call Shane out.
And while Shane might not be pregnant with their own baby, he can enjoy these snuggles for as long as Harris will let him.
Ilya and Troy find them later, the baby passed out on Shane’s chest still, and Harris and Shane discussing the team’s chances at repeating a Cup win without Shane on the ice.
“Hi baby,” Troy says, plucking his son from Shane’s chest and pressing a kiss on the top of his head. “And hi baby.” He turns, pressing a kiss to the top of Harris’s head.
“Ready to head out? He’s been out for about an hour now.” Harris gestures to the baby in his husband's arms.
Troy nods, “Night Hollander. It'll be weird not seeing you on the ice this season.” He turns and begins to make his way towards Bood, wanting to say goodbye to the hosts for the evening.
“Ah, Barrett? No love for your captain?” Ilya protests.
“Fuck no, I’ll see you tomorrow at practice.”
Ilya has the audacity to look offended, even as Shane and Harris laugh, but the smile that breaks only a few moments later betrays him.
Once Harris and Troy have left, Ilya’s arms wrap around Shane. He pulls him close, the warmth of the fire and the warmth of his husband fighting off the cool summer night air.
“You looked very beautiful with a baby on your chest,” Ilya whispers in his ear.
Shane’s head falls back, landing against Ilya’s shoulder so he can look up at him.
“Soon,” Shane says.
“Soon,” Ilya agrees.
October
“What are you doing?” Ilya lets out a startled laugh as he walks back into their bedroom with a wet warm cloth, ready to help Shane clean up following their most recent fuck. They might be trying to get pregnant, but that doesn’t mean Shane wants his own cum drying on his chest.
Shane is laying on his back on the bed, a pillow under his hip to elevate them slightly, and his legs straight up in the air resting against the headboard.
Shane’s cheeks go a little pink as he tilts his head backwards so he can look at Ilya. Even completely upside down, Ilya is still the hottest man Shane has ever seen. He still can’t believe this is his husband.
“It’s probably a little silly, but I read on a blog online that doing this after sex can help you get pregnant. Gravity forcing the sperm to be near my cervix or something like that.” Shane shrugs slightly.
Ilya smiles, laying down on the bed and mimicking Shane’s position. “So what? We just stay like this forever?”
“Well you have a game tomorrow so probably not forever.”
“Okay Mr. Know-it-all, how long then?” Ilya nudges Shane’s foot with his, reminding Shane of all the times they have done something similar during their relationship.
“Fifteen to twenty minutes apparently.”
Ilya hums in acknowledgement, but in his head he only gives Shane ten minutes before the feeling of cum and sweat on his skin is too much and he has to get out of bed for a shower.
Shane makes it fifteen surprisingly and when he comes back to bed following his shower, he’s all warm and snuggly as he settles beside Ilya. He cuddles in close, his head on Ilya’s chest.
“I love you,” Shane sighs into Ilya’s collarbone.
Ilya leans in close, his nose in Shane’s hair as he presses a kiss to the top of his head. “I love you too.
The next day, Shane shoots Ilya a message as their game is ending. They just beat Florida, a close match that ended on a lucky tie breaking goal from Ilya with only a minute left in the game.
Shane
Can you pick up Mucinex on your way home?
Ilya
Mucinex? Are you feeling sick?
Shane
No. The Mom blogs say it could help with conceiving though
Something about thinning the cervical mucus
Ilya
That doesn’t sound real, Hollander
But whatever you want, solnyshko ♥️
The thing is, Shane knows that these “tricks” probably don’t actually do anything to help people get pregnant. Probably a placebo, or a coincidence, but he feels like he has to do something.
He’s now three months post stopping his birth control and has hit the average month someone gets pregnant. But Shane Hollander has never been average. He has always been above-average. One of the best around.
So the fact that he hasn’t gotten pregnant yet makes him want to crawl out of his skin.
This led him to turning to the Mommy blogs, trying to find anything he might have missed when trying to get pregnant. The tricks might be silly, but it makes him feel like he is doing something so he is going to keep using them.
Only sex in the middle of the day because that's when hormones are supposedly at their highest. A new sleep mask so that Shane is sleeping in perfect darkness after reading that regulating his melatonin production which would in turn regulate his own hormones.
He knows it’s a little frustrating for Ilya, all the new rules. Not that Ilya would tell him that. He’s willing to do anything if it calms Shane’s mind.
Well almost anything— he draws the line at changing from his standard boxer briefs to regular boxers because “you might be restricting the flow of sperm Ilya.”
“Are you coming to the game tonight?” Ilya asks him one afternoon, both of their legs in the air again. Ilya does it with him every time.
He cuts a small glare towards Ilya, “Of course I am.” He goes to every single home game, sitting with the WAGs and trying to keep his face off the jumbotron. He’s there to support Ilya, not show off.
Ilya shrugs, “I was not sure if it was against your new rules. Vibrations from the arena lower your chance of getting pregnant or whatever.”
Shane’s eyes widened in concern, “Do you think that’s true?” Shit. Shane loves going to the games, he doesn’t think he wants to give that up.
Ilya sighs, “No Shane, I don’t.” He reaches out, running a hand down Shane’s cheek. “If it was, hockey players would have no children and we both know that isn’t true.”
Shane lets out an unsteady breath, nodding slowly. “Yeah, yeah. You’re right.”
“I think maybe you are doing too much,” Ilya says after a moment.
Shane’s mind flashes to the test he took yesterday, Not Pregnant, and feels like maybe he isn’t doing enough.
“What do you mean?”
“This is meant to be fun, yes? You cannot tell me you are having fun right now.”
Shane quietly considers his words for a moment before he reaches out, nudging Ilya’s foot with his own.
“Well some it is pretty fun,” he murmurs.
Ilya smiles, nudging his foot back. The two of them look at each other, small smiles on their faces.
“It will happen when it happens, I do not think you need to be doing all of this.”
Shane sighs, “You’re probably right. That stupid mask was so uncomfortable to sleep in anyways.”
“Thank you! I have missed being able to see your freckles in the mornings. The mask covers them up.”
Shane laughs, the timer on his phone going off to let him know it’s been at least fifteen minutes. “Okay, okay. I get it.”
Ilya rolls over, hovering over Shane so they are chest to chest. He leans in, giving Shane a slow, deep kiss. Shane melts into it, he loves the feel of Ilya’s mouth against his.
Ilya pulls back, pressing one more quick kiss to Shane’s lips.
“It’ll happen when it happens.”
He rolls off the bed, leaving Shane still laying upside down as he heads into the bathroom to start running a shower for Shane.
Shane lets out a slow deep breath, nodding to himself. Ilya’s right. It’ll happen when it happens.
November
“Shaneyyy…” Rose whines over Facetime. “It’s perfect, Ilya is playing in New York this week, I’m in New York filming. You have to come!”
Shane is in the kitchen, his phone propped up in front of him as he prepares lunch for himself and Ilya who should be home from practice soon. It’s weird being retired and having nowhere to go each day. He can wake up whenever he wants to, eat whatever he wants, and do whatever he wants. Turns out, he likes waking up early to work out and eat his healthy food even without the incentive of hockey.
“I don’t know Rose…” He really doesn’t have any reason to not go besides just not wanting to travel. If there’s one thing he hasn’t missed about hockey, it’s the constant travel.
“Please!” Her eyes go wide and she looks like she might only be half a second away from begging. “I haven’t seen you in so long!”
Shane sighs as he briefly glances away from the strawberries he is cutting the tops off of. He catches her jutting her lower lip out and her eyes instantly well-up with tears. He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head.
She’s an actress and a drama queen it seems.
“Fine, fine!” Rose cheers loudly, her eyes drying instantly. “But only because it has been so long.”
He hears the front door open, a loud Russian greeting echoing through the house as Anya meets Ilya in the hall, and quickly wraps up his call with Rose, promising to text her when he knows his flight details.
Ilya walks into the kitchen, pressing a kiss to Shane’s cheek as he grabs his plate with a turkey sandwich and half the strawberries on it from the counter before sitting down at their kitchen island.
“Going somewhere?” Ilya asks as Shane sits down next to him.
“New York,” Shane explains, “You have a game on Thursday and Rose is filming there right now so she convinced me to spend a few days in the city.”
Shane pulls out his phone, sending his mother a quick text asking her if they would be able to watch Anya for a few days. Ilya is leaving Tuesday night for a short roadie: a game against Boston on Wednesday, New York on Thursday, a day off on Friday, and then an afternoon game against Philadelphia before returning home.
“You should text Kip, take Rose to the Kingfisher to watch the game. You’ll have to put up with old man Hunter but Rose will have fun.”
“You don’t want me at the arena?”
Ilya smiles, running a hand down the side of Shane’s face. “Of course I do, solnyshko. But I’ll end up at the Kingfisher anyways and this way you do not have to deal with Madison Square Garden traffic.”
It’s a good plan, and honestly, Shane really does hate dealing with Manhattan traffic. It isn’t so bad when he was on the team bus, bypassing most of the traffic with the escorts provided to the team, but it could take forever to get there in peak traffic.
“You’ll meet us there?” Shane asks.
“Of course.”
And so, three days later, Shane and Rose are sitting at the Kingfisher with Kip and watching Ilya’s game on the TVs. Scott is actually at the arena too— the Admirals finally putting his number in the rafters five years after Scott’s retirement.
Shane can’t prove it, but he’s sure Scott specifically requested it happen against Ottawa just to piss Ilya off.
This is normally the type of ceremony Kip would’ve gone to, but this pregnancy has apparently been hard on him. It’s rare for him to have a nausea-free day and at least at the bar, he can go home quickly if it gets to be too much for him.
Shane tries really hard not to stare at the gentle curve in Kip’s stomach. He’s about six months along now Shane thinks. His eyes quickly move away from Kip and he takes a sip of his beer to try and wash down the bitter taste of jealousy that floods his mouth.
Shane isn’t a big drinker, and that hasn’t changed since retiring, but he needs something stronger than ginger ale to get through a whole night with someone who is currently the very picture of everything Shane doesn’t have.
Besides, there’s a Not Pregnant test at the bottom of his hotel trashcan that tells him it’s fine to drink alcohol tonight.
He puts on a brave face, laughing when appropriate and cheering as Ilya scores to bring the Cens lead to 2 right before the second period ends. Rose knows him all too well though, if the concerned looks she keeps shooting him is anything to go by.
She’s merciful luckily and waits until Kip gets up during the second intermission, stating he needed the bathroom and wanted to check on the bartenders.
“Alright spill,” she says, turning to look at him.
“There’s nothing to ‘spill’, Rose,” Shane protests.
“Shaney,” she starts, raising an eyebrow in disbelief, “You’ve been staring at Kip like he kicked your dog all night. You were down yesterday when we went shopping but I ignored it since you had to deal with the airport. But there is definitely something.”
He sighs, glancing around to make sure no one seems like they are listening before he looks back at Rose. He leans in slightly, reducing the space between them to try and keep their conversation as private as possible in a loud bar.
“Ilya and I… we’ve been trying to have a baby and it’s…” Shane sighs, “Taking longer than I think either of us expected it to.”
Rose squeals loudly causing Shane to flinch and more than a few patrons to turn to look at them. He shushes her quickly before anyone can look too quickly and recognize who either of them are.
“Rose!” He scolds her slightly. “The whole bar doesn’t need to know.”
She rolls her eyes, taking a sip of her gin and tonic, before grinning back at him.
“Sorry, sorry! This is exciting though! You guys are going to be amazing parents.”
He scoffs slightly.
“Did you miss the part where I said it hasn’t happened yet?”
She waves her hand slightly dismissively. “How long have you been trying?”
He blushes slightly, it sounds ridiculous when he says it outloud. “Five months.”
“Shane! That’s literally nothing. Doctors don’t even get worried until after a year.”
He crosses his arms, leaning back in his seat. The thing is that he knows this. He knows there isn’t technically any cause for concern.
But Shane can’t help the little voice in his head that tells him that they waited too long, that he’s too old now. That the years of hockey have impacted his ability to get pregnant somehow.
“I know,” he says finally, shaking his head as he reaches out and takes another sip of his beer. “I know. But I just… We are both professional athletes. In peak physical condition and health. I guess I just expected it to happen quickly.”
“Wait, is this why you retired?” She asks.
“Not completely. My knee really is fucked.” His twice weekly physical therapy appointment is a testament to that. “But it definitely played a part.”
“Shane,” she reaches out, grabbing his hand, “I say this because I love you. But you need to calm the hell down.”
He lets out a sharp laugh.
“I mean it!” She continues, her own laugh joining his. “One of the biggest roadblocks to getting pregnant is stress. The more you stress yourself out about it, the harder it’s going to be. Just enjoy the journey, have fun getting dicked down by your husband, it’ll happen when it’s supposed to.”
“You sound like Ilya.” She’s saying the exact same things Ilya told Shane recently.
“Well,” she shrugs, letting go of his hand to lean back in her own seat. “Maybe it’s because we are both right.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
When Kip rejoins them a few moments later, slightly out of breath but grinning, Shane finds himself feeling less jealous than before. He still is, his eyes watching Kip’s hands where he absentmindedly rubs the top of his bump, but being open with Rose about what has been bothering him is enough to get him through the rest of the night.
And when Ilya pulls Shane into his side an hour and one victory later, he feels that just maybe he can be a little more patient.
December
“Maybe you should talk to your mother, yes?” Ilya says as they lay in bed two days before Christmas. Ilya is home for the next few days with the Christmas break in games and this is one of the first days in a long time that neither of them have to leave the house for one reason or another.
He’s curled around Shane, his arm keeping Shane locked against his chest. They are having a lazy morning, a rare commodity during the season. Or as lazy of a morning as one can have when they are woken up with their husband’s mouth wrapped around their cock.
Ilya had taken it slow though anyways. He’d used his tongue, then his fingers, to worship at the altar that was Shane’s body. And after he’d drawn one orgasm out of him, he’d fucked Shane so throughly that this had to be the one that caught.
“My mom? About what?” Shane’s fingers are slowly tracing patterns on Ilya’s forearms, his head still slightly fuzzy as he comes down from his post-orgasm bliss.
Ilya sighs, pressing a kiss to the back of Shane’s head. “Your father told me on our wedding day that they also had trouble with… Ah… word for when baby is created?” Shane stiffens slightly, his fingers stumbling in their nonsensical patterns. .
“Conception,” Shane murmurs, his voice quiet.
“Yes,” Ilya whispers.
Shane resumes his patterns, the air in their room tense and a little sad almost. They don’t speak for a while, their breaths the only sounds besides the distant noise of Anya playing with a toy downstairs.
“I do not like you being sad, sweetheart,” Ilya says finally, his arm tightening just slightly against Shane, locking him in place. Like he is afraid Shane might run from this conversation.
“I’m fine,” Shane protests immediately.
“You think just because you wait until I’m on the road that I do not know you have been taking tests? That I do not notice when you are sad for a few days? Do not lie to me Shane.”
Shane’s breath catches. “How did you know about the tests?”
“You keep them under the sink, not exactly a secret, no?”
“Fuck off, I’m fine.” Shane squirms slightly, wanting to be anywhere but here and having this conversation. He doesn’t need to know how disappointed Ilya is; in Shane, in his body’s ability to get pregnant, or in Shane’s ability to not be a normal fucking person about the whole thing.
“Fine,” Ilya says, letting go when Shane squirms too much. “You do not have to talk to me, or Yuna, but you have to talk to someone.”
Shane knows that Ilya is right. But just talking to someone only helps for so long. The patience he thought he could have after his conversation with Rose only lasted until last week when he had another fucking Not Pregnant test.
He sits up, his feet dangling off the side of the bed but he doesn’t stand. He suddenly feels heavy, the weight of the rest of their lives feeling like it is solely on Shane’s shoulders.
His head hangs slightly, his breaths coming a little faster, and he squeezes his eyes shut to try to contain the wetness he can feel growing there.
“I just don’t want to get anyone else’s hopes up. I’ve already gotten mine and yours up. If it never happens, it’s just another person who is disappointed in me,” he says, his voice tight and controlled.
Ilya comes up behind him, setting one hand on Shane’s shoulder light enough that he could shake him off if he didn’t want to be touched. When he doesn’t, Ilya squeezes lightly, hoping to provide some grounding to Shane.
“Nobody is disappointed in you Shane.”
“You should be though. My body is literally made for this and I can’t fucking do it.”
Ilya moves off the bed, kneeling between Shane’s legs so he can look up at him. He brings his hands up to cup his face, forcing Shane to face him.
“Shane, moya lyubov, look at me please.” It takes Shane a moment, his eyes expertly avoiding Ilya’s before they finally settle and meet his eyes. “I need you to look at me when I say this so that you believe me. I do not need a baby to be happy with you.”
Shane opens his mouth to interrupt.
“Nyet, I do not need one. Do I want one? Of course. But I do not need one.” His thumbs brush over Shane’s freckles, catching the single tear that has escaped Shane’s eyes. “I only need you. If we never have a baby, I will still be happy because I have you. Okay?”
Shane nods slowly. “I… yeah okay.”
Ilya leans forward, kissing each of Shane’s cheeks, then his nose, before finally landing on his mouth.
“Ya tebya lyublyu,” he murmurs after he pulls away.
The corner of Shane’s mouth quirks up. He will never get tired of hearing those words. “Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu.”
Shane thinks about that conversation for the next two days though, Ilya’s words of encouragement to talk to his mother ring in his head. He hesitates to bring it up though when they see them on Christmas day.
It’s not that Shane doesn’t believe him, Ilya would have no reason to lie to him about this, it’s just that he hadn’t known this and it doesn’t exactly seem like something you just bring up on Christmas day.
He works up the courage to bring it up after dinner, his mother and him are in the kitchen doing dishes while Ilya and his father are in the other room beginning one of the many puzzles Ilya got him for Christmas.
“Can I ask you something?” Shane says finally, blatantly not looking at his mother as he rubs a towel over an already dry plate.
“Of course Ottawa has a chance at the cup, even without you,” his mother jokes.
He huffs out a small laugh, “Of course they do, but uhh no, not about hockey.”
She casts a sidelong look at him and knows he is nervous, considering he is still drying the same plate. She picks up another dish from the sink, following his lead.
“What’s wrong?”
He lets out a small frustrated noise, “I don’t know. Maybe nothing. Maybe everything.”
They are quiet again, Yuna giving him space to continue speaking when he is ready.
“How long did it take you to get pregnant with me?” He asks.
“Oh!” She startles slightly, not expecting this line of conversation. “Well, a while I suppose.” She places a newly cleaned plate in the drying rack in front of him.
“I don’t think I’ve ever talked to you about this, but you weren’t my first pregnancy.”
Shane’s eyes go wide as he looks at his mom. He sets the plate down, forgoing any pretense that the dishes are going to get done soon. This conversation is suddenly very important.
“I wasn’t?”
“No, you were my third. The first one was lost around six weeks. Barely even knew I was pregnant. The second was different. Harder. I was about 15 weeks at that point. I’d told people, we were excited.” She takes a deep breath, the emotions of that time still hard even all these years later. “So with you, I felt like I couldn’t be excited. I don’t think it even really hit me until they were placing you in my arms that it was real. That you were real.”
“Oh. I didn’t know,” Shane says.
“We didn’t want you to know really. Not because we were ashamed, or anything. We just didn’t want you to feel like you were growing up in the shadow of a different child.” She shrugs slightly. “Once you were old enough for that not to matter, it just… never really came up.”
“That makes sense, I guess.”
“Why do you ask, honey?”
Shane sighs loudly. “Me and Ilya have been trying to have a baby and it’s just… taking a lot longer than I expected.”
Yuna reaches out, squeezing his bicep. “You are allowed to be frustrated, Shane. You are allowed to be mad at your body for not doing what you expect it to.”
A confused look crosses his face. “I am?”
She nods sharply. “You are. But you can’t give up. If I gave up, I’d never have you.”
He smiles now, feeling immensely lighter than he has since his most recent test. Yuna pulls him into a hug, his forehead landing on her shoulder as he revels in the comfort he has always found with her.
“It’ll happen when it happens,” she says, her hand petting his hair.
Shane groans loudly, pulling away. “I am so fucking tired of hearing that.”
“Sorry honey, it’s true though. The first rule of babies is that they do whatever the hell they want, and that includes conception.”
He laughs, shaking his head slightly. Yuna pulls him back into another hug.
“You and Ilya are going to be fantastic parents, and your dad and I will be here every step of the way, no matter what.”
Shane catches Ilya’s eyes from where he sits at the dining table that is now covered in puzzle pieces. He smiles at Shane, who returns it quickly.
Shane feels settled in a way he hasn’t since he retired really. Hearing Ilya or Rose tell him that it’ll happen when it happens had helped slightly, but hearing his mother, who had had to be patient when waiting for her own baby, say it.
That was healing in a way he couldn’t put into words.
Hearing the validation that he was allowed to be upset, allowed to be frustrated that it hasn’t happened makes him feel truly seen for the first time since they began trying to have a baby.
He breaks eye contact with Ilya, tucking his face into his mother’s neck.
“Thank you, mom.”
For the first time in months, Shane feels like he can breathe a bit better.