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Ilya woke up in an unfamiliar, though comfy bed. He looked over to the opposite side table and saw a bookmarked hockey book and a pair of reading glasses. Did he go home with a man last night? Unusual, but fine.
He heard the muted sound of laughter coming from elsewhere in the house and smelled… pancakes? Okay, does this man cook? He didn’t usually eat breakfast with his one night stands, but sure, why not. Come to think of it, he couldn't even remember the last time he had a one night stand.
As he made his way downstairs he started to notice picture frames along the walls, and- holy shit, was that him and… Hollander?? His heart started thumping wildly.
The first framed picture was the two of them together, looking lazy in a hammock, both shirtless with just smiles and sunglasses.
Another with them raising a - a Cup together? His mind vaguely registered they were wearing Centaurs jerseys, but he didn’t even care, didn’t even question it.
Below that, one of Hollander and his parents, with Ilya in the middle, out at dinner, out in public?
His heart continued to race, but not from panic, not from fear, but... excitement?
His feet stopped altogether in front of the last picture in the hallway, his finger shaking as he reached out to trace the frame.
“Oh,” he whispered.
He was holding a little girl with straight black hair, freckles dotting the bridge of her nose. Shane was holding a small bundle in a blue blanket, and the three of them were gazing down adoringly at the baby with wisps of blonde curly hair. He instinctively reached for his mother’s cross on his neck, and was dumbfounded to feel a smooth metal ring next to it.
“Ilya?” He heard Hollander’s voice, heard Shane’s voice, slightly teasing, “Did you sleep in enough yet?”
Ilya pressed his palms to his eyelids.
Please don’t wake up, please don’t wake up, please-
The last time he heard Shane say his first name was when everything was perfect for a blissful minute, right before everything was ruined and now- now he’s saying his first name like he doesn’t even realize what a gift it is.
Ilya turned quickly on his heel, holding himself back from running to them, from flat out sprinting to them, following the voice and the laughter and the babbling into a kitchen.
“Papa!” the little girl’s face lit up as she ran towards him. “Daddy made pancakes!” He caught her as she launched herself up into his arms. She pressed her hands onto either side of his face and gave him a big kiss on his forehead.
“Good morning,” he choked out, overwhelmed by seeing her freckles, her beautiful brown eyes up close.
Shane gave him a curious look but smiled. “Hey, give me a hand?” He nodded towards the high chair. “He’s got that look in his eye that he’s about to smear yogurt in his hair. Again.”
Setting down the girl (his daughter, bozhe moy,) he moved towards Shane and the high chair that was angled towards the counter. The baby from the picture was a little older, sitting up, and- his steps faltered for a second- his eyes, his mother’s eyes were looking back at him.
“Hello, solnyshko,” he breathed out. The baby shrieked happily and reached out his yogurt covered hands. Shane handed him a wet paper towel before turning around to flip more pancakes onto a plate.
Ilya stared at Shane’s back for a beat before gently wiping the baby’s hands, pressing kisses to his chubby knuckles when he was done.
“Sleep good?” Shane turned his head and asked over his shoulder. Ilya walked over, took the spatula out of his hand, and turned him by his waist. His eyes greedily roved over Shane’s face before taking it in his hands and gently pressing a kiss against his lips, feeling a tear roll down his own cheek.
“Ilya,” Shane whispered with a soft smile as he pulled back, searching his husband's eyes. “Are you okay?”
Ilya leaned into Shane's touch as he wiped his tear away with his thumb.
“I am- I am just happy to see you. To see them. I missed you. While I was sleeping...I missed you.”
“We missed you too,” Shane murmured, giving him another soft kiss before turning off the stove.
“Eat, papa!” the little girl chirped. “Big day today!”
“Oh, is it?” Ilya’s eyes bounced from Shane to her to the baby, trying to drink in every detail of the three of them.
“Breakfast, library, park, family movie night,” she counted off the activities on her fingers.
“Big day,” Shane agreed with her. He looked at Ilya. “Sounds good?”
Ilya swallowed the lump in his throat, nodding.
“Sounds perfect.”