Chapter Text
Shane has a pep in his step today.
Everyone can see it, the certain spark in the alpha’s eyes that isn’t usually there. He knows they can tell that something is going on when he walks into the Montreal locker room for practice. He isn’t the first one here today (strange), he is barely fighting a smile (stranger), and he’s so ecstatic that even his scent smells different (strangest).
Not that anyone would ever comment on it except for Hayden.
The beta leans over, eyeing him curiously for a moment. Shane pretends to ignore it and starts getting ready, changing into his gear.
“What’s got you so happy?” He asks, a smile on his lips.
“Nothing,” Shane lies.
“Something,” Hayden contradicts.
“Maybe I’m excited for practice,” Shane lies again, making Hayden scoff.
“Right. I know you’re a freak about hockey but we’ve been on this team for over ten years, you’ve never been this happy about practice.”
Shane ignores him, continuing to gear up. It isn’t until he’s lacing up his skates that he tells the truth. “I’m excited about the break.”
Four days.
Four whole days of no interruptions.
Shane has no idea how it happened honestly. Sure, Ottawa and Montreal have some overlap, they’re in the same conference after all, but usually, they are lucky to sneak in a day or a weekend or a few hours together in between flights and trainings and practices and brand deals and photoshoots and games. It’s better than it was when Ilya was still in Boston, he’s not complaining at all, but this is going to be incredible. Four whole days. Ilya had called him early this morning to confirm it, which led into phone sex, which turned into Shane splayed out on his mattress with his phone propped up enough for Ilya to see him knotting his hand. And then it ended with the reminder that in a few days, Shane would get uninterrupted time with the alpha.
It was a really good morning.
The thought keeps echoing in his mind. In two days, he will have Ilya in his bed, in his den, in his home, right where the other alpha belongs. There won’t be any rushing out the door or any sleep deprived nights because they’re clinging onto dwindling seconds. Four days.
Shane has been thinking about it for weeks now, they were just waiting to make sure that nothing might pop up before getting their hopes up. He has the dates highlighted and now they’re about to be a reality.
“Oh, is your Lily coming over?” Hayden asks, making J.J perk up.
“Lily?” He asks with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows. “Is she coming from Boston to see you?”
Shane’s cheeks twinge. “Maybe.”
His friends don’t need to know his Lily didn’t just come to visit from Boston. His team didn't need to know that Lily now lives in Ottawa for him. It would be too dangerous no matter how much he wants to tell them. At least Hayden knows the full trust, who is giving him an almost smirk, though there’s a certain look about it that he gets every time Ilya is involved in something.
He already has a plan, which consists of turning his phone off completely and locking the doors behind them. He’s going to get to his house first and wait patiently in bed, open and ready so when his alpha finally walks in there is no lost time. He wants his knot- something usually reserved for the rare days they can spend plenty of time together.
Practice goes well. Shane throws himself into it whole heartedly the same way he does every time his skates touch the ice. He doesn’t let thoughts of Ilya distract him, or the fact that he is going to buy groceries for them today, or that he’s going to start building a nice den for them to surprise Ilya with.
Excitedly, he holds it all in until he’s off the ice and sitting in the locker room fresh out of the shower, eagerly texting him.
Jane: I think I will go get groceries today. Want anything specific?
Lily: no, thank you.
Lily: I will stay at my house for the break
Jane: ok. I will meet you there then. Still want me to bring groceries?
Shane quirks his eyebrows up at the message. It’s weird, but he doesn't mind. He likes Ilya’s house in Ottawa, it’s warm and inviting, reminiscent of the cottage. He can’t surprise Ilya with a den, but that just means they can build one together instead which is just as nice.
Shane gets dressed slowly, thoughtfully, and only when all of his clothes are on and he is ready to leave does he check his messages again.
Lily: no. I cannot see you for a few days.
Shane’s heart plummets.
Jane: why?
Lily: Call me later when you are alone
Oh.
Shane frowns softly, slipping his phone into his back pocket. He looks around, wondering if anyone noticed the sudden shift in his attitude, but Hayden is gone and no one else really cares enough to glance in his direction.
Did something come up after all?
Even if something did pop up on one of the days that they had planned together, why couldn’t Ilya take care of it and then come to Shane’s? Or Shane could stay with Ilya and wait at home for him to finish and come back.
Did something come up?
It’s Ilya’s first year as a Centaur. Did he misread the calendar somehow or did his coach insist on more practice? That doesn’t make much sense. And Shane had read over the calendars too to double check. There is no way they could have both missed something big that would take up four days.
Did Shane do something wrong? Is Ilya upset with him? Just this morning everything was fine. What could have changed?
Shane bites the inside of his cheek, a million questions swirling around his head.
The walk to his car is far too long and too short at the same time. He puts one foot in front of the other for what feels like forever but then suddenly he is sitting in the passenger side of his boring car questioning himself on if he should call Ilya now or wait.
If something is really wrong, he doesn’t want to try and drive and have a conversation at the same time. If it’s something urgent, he doesn’t want to make Ilya wait.
Eventually, he decides to just wait, and starts his car, his mind continuing to race as he makes his way home.
It doesn’t take long to make it home at least. As soon as the door to his Montreal apartment shuts behind him, Shane is kicking his shoes off and hitting call.
It rings twice before it clicks. “Moy lyubimiy.”
“Why can’t you see me for a few days?” Shane asks immediately.
Ilya hesitates. “How was practice?”
“Fine. Why can’t you see me?” Shane demands.
Ilya stays quiet for a moment, and for a terrifying second, Shane thinks that he won’t give him an answer.
“I will be in rut during our time together. Probably some time after too. I am in pre-rut now, I did not notice until after your show this morning.”
Shane’s face twinges at the reminder of their phone call before Ilya’s words settle over him.
Oh.
Shane Hollander is an alpha.
He has never felt any particular way about his designation, it just is what it is. It is a fact. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and Shane is an alpha.
He never wished to be anything different when he was growing up. It was one of the few things about himself that seemed to be saved from the mean spirited jokes others would make towards him. They teased him about his awkwardness, and the way he folded his clothes in the locker room, they threw homophobic jabs that no one knew held any merit. None of that really changed once he moved up into the NHL either. Some of his teammates would occasionally try to challenge him, when he was a rookie and better than the seasoned players and once he became captain it wasn’t unusual for someone to ask how much of an alpha he really was. They challenged his authority, challenged how he led the team, challenged him on the ice. But even then he could recognize how much harder it would have been for him if he had been anything other than an alpha.
He used to be grateful for being an alpha. There have only been a handful of times he ever regretted it.
“I could marry Svetlana. She is American, it would be easy citizenship.” Ilya says casually.
Shane looks up, feeling as if the rug had been ripped from beneath him.
“She would do it. She would help me.”
“But… is she someone you would want to marry?”
Svetlana is an omega and a woman. She’s everything Shane is not. She’s someone Ilya could be safe with, someone who already knows him and his family and his childhood and Russia and she’s someone he could marry and bond with. She’s not a Canadian professional hockey player, she’s not a man or an alpha. She is not someone that society would consider wrong for Ilya. She is everything Shane cannot ever be.
She can have so much more than Shane could ever have.
“We are friends, it would be fine. And it would be for the passport.”
“Okay but…”
“But what?”
“You like omegas, right? You could find someone you want to marry for real, even if it was a man as long as they’re an omega. And still get the passport.”
Because that was the problem right? Any woman would be safe for Ilya, and even a male omega would be acceptable to most people. Everything about Shane is wrong though.
The only time he ever wanted to be someone other than himself, was when he was afraid of losing Ilya. There have been smaller moments since that day at the cottage a year ago, but Ilya has always been quick to reassure him that he wants no one other than Shane, alpha or not. Shane just wishes he could remember that when he feels that familiar insecurity creeping through his veins.
Shane swallows. “I can help during your rut,” he offers weakly, though he knows what Ilya will say. It is the same thing he always says when either one of them goes through a rut.
“No. I do not think so.”
Shane swallows down a whimper. “But what about our days together? Four days, Ilya.”
“I know. I am sorry.”
He does sound sorry. In fact, he sounds defeated.
Shane slumps down, feeling like a selfish brat. He swallows again, throat feeling too thick with the lump building in it.
“Can we at least talk about it?” Shane asks.
There is no way that they are the only alpha couple in the world trying to make things work. Shane has read about it before the first time this happened, right after All Stars. There are ways, things they can do to make it through a rut together, he knows there has to be.
Shane wants to share a rut. He has wanted it for years. He wants to be vulnerable with Ilya like that, he wants to feel close to him and valuable as a mate, helping him through it.
Not being able to help him the way everyone else in the world helps their mate makes him feel… useless. Inadequate.
It makes him wish he was anything but an alpha.
“No,” Ilya says with finality.
Tears prickle at the corners of his eyes, but he doesn’t dare let them fall.
It isn’t fair though. How can they do this forever? Even if they do eventually retire and get to mate with one another, even if he does eventually wear Ilya’s bite on his nape, will they never be able to share a rut with one another?
It’s ridiculous.
“Okay,” he says, surprised to hear how even his voice comes out. “I’m going to go. Laundry. Love you.”
He doesn’t give Ilya time to give whatever retort he had cooking up for the lame lie that Shane had given him. He doesn’t really want to hear Ilya tease him right now, and he does feel bad for not letting him say he loves him back, but Shane’s bottom lip is wobbling and his eyes are burning and he thinks hearing that might just push him over the edge.
So he hangs up.
He at least makes it over to the couch to sit down, staring blankly at the TV that is nothing but a black screen. His phone continues to buzz with texts, but he ignores it.
There is a certain fear that accompanies his insecurities in moments like this. It washes over him, making the nerves in his arms prickle and his heart beat a little too fast in his chest. It’s the fear that Ilya will realize that Shane cannot give him what he needs, and it's not like it is for Shane who is only attracted to alpha men. Ilya could have anyone. He could have someone easier, softer, better suited for an alpha. He could go find someone who can help him through his ruts. He could have an easier life with an easier partner than Shane ever will be.
His heart aches, head pounding.
Shane doesn’t cry. Crying would not fix anything, and he can’t bring himself to be that pathetic even in the privacy of his own home. But still, his eyes burn, and he has to bite down on his tongue to keep from choking on a sob.
He wishes Ilya would just hear him out. Would he listen if he came up with a plan? He has in the past, Shane reasons with himself. Hell, he agreed to move to a losing team when Shane had woken him up in the middle of the night with a grand plan.
He needs to do research, he tells himself. As soon as his chest stops heaving and his waterline stops stinging, then he’s going to sit down and figure this out. He’s going to find a way to help Ilya through his rut, so he doesn’t one day wake up and realize he doesn’t need Shane.
_____
It’s two in the morning before Shane closes his computer and crawls into bed. He knows he’s going to regret it when he has to be at practice in the morning, but at least he has something he can give to Ilya to prove himself.
Jane: Can I come over tomorrow?
He doesn’t expect an immediate answer, but Ilya always has a way of surprising him.
Lily: that is not a good idea
Jane: I did some research and I want to show you what I found.
Lily: what about the game?
He has a point, Shane supposes. They have practice tomorrow (a glance at the clock tells him technically today), and then a home game the following day, leading into the four day break. He might be tired traveling to Ottawa just to see Ilya, but he doesn’t really care. He’s played through worse than just being tired. He’ll crack open the smelling salts during the game like everyone else and power through.
Jane: It’ll be fine. Please.
Lily: I will come to you instead, ok?
Shane nods to himself. That’s fine, he can work with that. He's going to prove to Ilya that he can be a good mate.
_____
Shane thinks he might throw up.
Ilya is waiting for him in his apartment. He got there almost an hour ago now, ready to have a conversation about why Shane can’t help him through a rut.
It’s so… complicated. Will their relationship ever not be so complicated?
Shane rehearses what he’s going to say in his head the entire drive home from practice, repeating the words to himself until they don’t make sense anymore and then forcing them into something more cohesive. He files away bits of information, categorizes it and puts it in order of what he should bring up first and hopes desperately that he can remember it all when he comes face to face with Ilya. At least if he can’t remember it all, he has it written down in a notebook tucked away in his nightstand. He had started to make a Word document, and then an Excel spreadsheet, but the fear of it ever getting leaked on to the internet had him taking notes in an old spiral notebook he found in the kitchen drawer instead.
Shane hesitates outside his own front door, feeling ridiculous and anxious at the same time. He just… he wants this to go well. He wants Ilya to want him still. He wants him to say yes so Shane doesn’t have to fear a future where Ilya eventually leaves him.
Walking into his home though, he can feel the tension that had worked up inside bleeding from him at the sight of his boyfriend.
Ilya is stretched out on his couch, a blanket thrown over his lap looking completely and totally at home. He’s wearing a tank top that shows off his incredible arms, and his scent hits Shane like a wall. It’s mixed in with his, making drool pool in his mouth.
Ilya has always smelt like amber and smoke, and somehow like snow, though Shane can’t describe the scent exactly. There’s something richer beneath it too, masculine and enticing. Shane on the other hand smells like pink pepper, and something earthy he’s never been able to put a name to. His scent is spicy and warm, and it compliments Ilya’s a little too well.
Sometimes when two alphas are together, their scents clash. It makes the locker room downright offensive after games or intense practices, and the air fresheners they hang can only do so much. It’s why some alpha couples do not work out in the end even. Shane learned that after Googling ways to make an alpha/alpha relationship work. Scent blockers had been listed in one of the articles he had read, along with perfumes and oils that smelt sweeter like a beta or omega. He likes their scents together though, they compliment each other.
He did put together a shopping cart though of supplies that they will need to get through a rut together and included scent patches just in case.
“Hi,” Shane smiles at him.
Comeau had teased him earlier today that he smiles like a freak, caught between smiling too wide and not showing enough teeth. Shane had rolled his eyes at the time, but now he finds himself trying to tame the grin into something less weird.
“Solnyshko,” Ilya coos, soft and sweet, accent thick like he had just woken up. Now that Shane is getting a better look at him, he can see how his curls have been mussed up, and there’s a sleepiness in his bright eyes that makes Shane melt a little inside.
“You can go back to sleep,” Shane offers. He knows how exhausting pre-rut can be.
“Mmm, why, so you can watch me sleep? Pervert.” Ilya giggles softly at his own joke, snuggling down further into the couch. He’s so fucking cute Shane gets hit with the intense urge to bite him.
Shane chuckles. “Yeah, I get off on you drooling on my couch.”
“I do not drool,” Ilya grumbles, though he wipes at the corners of his mouth to be safe. “That is sweat,” he lies.
“Sweat on your mouth?” Shane asks incredulously.
“Yes.”
Shane fights a smile. “No it’s not.”
“Yes. It is,” Ilya raises his eyebrows at him.
“Ilya.”
“Shane.”
He isn’t really sure which one of them breaks first, only that soon he’s climbing on top of Ilya to eagerly kiss his smirking mouth, whispering ‘shut up’ against his lips.
Kissing Ilya feels like coming home. He hasn’t seen him in a few weeks now despite living so close to one another and the thought only makes his heart ache impossibly more at the thought of spending Ilya’s rut with him.
Ilya deepens the kiss faster than Shane can comprehend, a big hand sliding from his nape up the back of his head, threading his fingers through Shane’s hair. He scratches lightly at his scalp, slipping his tongue into Shane’s mouth and dominating the kiss until Shane whimpers against his teeth.
“Fuck,” Ilya groans, muffled and distorted as he dives in for another filthy kiss. He sits up, chasing after Shane who can only cling to Ilya, letting himself be backed up until his back hits the couch and Ilya looms above, pinning him down.
The kiss is slick and wet, open mouthed and far too lewd for a ‘hello’ kiss. Shane does his best to keep up, but when he can’t, Ilya begins working down his chin and neck, sucking hickeys into his skin that Shane barely has a mind to put a stop to.
“Wait, wait-” Shane tugs at Ilya’s hair.
“Missed you,” Ilya ignores him, licking a broad stripe over his Adam’s apple. “Smell so fucking good, Shane. I want to fucking eat you.” He bites out through gritted teeth like he’s restraining himself from biting down and not letting go.
“I can tell,” Shane tries to joke, still doing his best to squirm away. “We need to talk-”
“After I taste you,” Ilya demands.
Shane whimpers, soft and low in his throat. Ilya’s hands are everywhere now, roaming over his body and rucking up his shirt, working beneath the hem of his shorts and trying to pull them down. He’s overwhelmed, surrounded by Ilya. Ilya’s hands and Ilya’s mouth and Ilya’s scent. Ilya’s body pressed against his, Ilya’s hard cock trapped against his hip.
He’s completely surrounded by the man, engulfing all of his senses until his head spins.
“No seriously-” Shane tries, but the words die in his throat when Ilya sinks his teeth into his neck, a delicious mix of pain and pleasure electrifying his nerves.
“We… fuck,” he groans. “Ilya stop. Stop, get off.”
Something snaps.
Ilya sits up, an alert look on his face. He takes in Shane and his flushed cheeks and wild hair, and then clambers off of him as quickly as he came on, embarrassment and guilt clinging to his limbs.
“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” Shane quickly tries to assure the rising panic on his alpha’s face. “I just meant we needed to stop so we could talk. We can do that after.”
Ilya rubs at his face, tugging on his earlobe as he tries to calm down. “It is hard to control myself with you. Is why I said we should not see each other for a few days.”
Shane sits up, watching as Ilya puts a good amount of space between them, obviously wishing for more with the way he turns his body into the arm of the couch, like it’s not quite far enough away from Shane.
“Do you want to spend your rut with me?” Shane asks.
A pained expression crosses Ilya’s face. “No.”
Shane flinches, and he can see the regret on Ilya’s face in an instant. He has that purposefully blank expression on his face, the one he wears when he’s scared, and it makes Shane want to hold him close.
“I didn’t ask if we could spend your rut together,” Shane clarifies, fighting past the fear that Ilya does not want him at all. “I’m asking if you want to spend it together.”
“What the fuck does it matter, Shane?” Ilya growls, a low warning rumble starting in his chest.
Shane prickles at the sound, but he’s known Ilya too long for the growl to do much to him.
“I need to know.”
“You don’t need to know anything,” Ilya rolls his eyes.
Shane glares at him. “Such an asshole.”
The name makes Ilya snort, and the tension breaks at least a little. “You like it.”
“I do,” Shane agrees easily. “But I don’t like it right now. Do you want to spend your rut with me?” He pushes again.
Ilya sighs, frustration rolling off of him in waves. “We cannot do that.”
“Why?”
“You know why, Shane,” Ilya shakes his head.
Shane blinks innocently at him, waiting for an explanation. He knows what they’ve talked about in the past, he knows the excuses they’ve both made up, but he wants to hear what Ilya has to say now.
“I would hurt you,” Ilya answers miserably, the faux anger he was hiding behind melting away in an instant.
“How do you know that?”
Ilya fixes him with an unamused look. “You are not stupid.”
“Maybe I am,” Shane argues back.
Ilya’s eyebrows shoot up. “Mmm, okay, fine. Maybe you are stupid.”
“Ilya.”
Ilya flops his head back against the couch, curls splaying out wildly. “Do I really need to explain it? I am an alpha. You are an alpha. I could be aggressive, I could see you as a threat, I could try to fight you.”
“You aren’t aggressive right now though,” Shane points out. “And you’re in pre-rut. You just tried to fuck me.”
“Okay. Fine. And if I am not aggressive, what if I am so out of my mind I try to fuck you without taking care of you? What if I force myself on you?”
Shane shivers at the thought, a certain curl of arousal in his stomach that makes Ilya’s nose flare at the change in his scent.
Shane at least has the decency to blush. It’s hot to imagine though, Ilya pinning him down and not letting him back up, and the only option Shane has is to take it. And he would. He would take everything Ilya gave him with greed and still beg for more.
“You are a freak,” Ilya states earnestly, eyebrows high on his face. “I thought I was a freak, but you are way worse than me.”
“Shut up,” Shane shakes his head, fighting a smile.
“It would not be so hot in reality,” Ilya says solemnly. “I have never spent a rut with someone. What if I am too rough? Or too demanding? I could seriously hurt you, and I would not forgive myself if I hurt you. You are not… your body is not built for knots. If I knot you without prep-”
Shane wilts. He knows that Ilya is not throwing it in his face to hurt him right now, but his chest still stings. If he was an omega, this would be so much more simple.
“I um…” he struggles for the best way to phrase things, and then decides it would be better to blurt it all out. “I researched last night how this could work. And I think I have a good plan.”
He expects for Ilya to immediately shut him down, but instead he says, “you and your plans,” with a smile on his face so fond it makes Shane’s heart hurt.
“I found a lot of things that would help us. Um… I have a list, I can go get it and we can run through all of the choices and maybe we could try it?” Shane asks hopefully.
Ilya seems to consider it, bright eyes roaming over Shane’s body.
He wonders for a moment if Ilya knows his insecurities. If he can see the way he wishes he were anything other than himself in moments like this. Ilya has always been able to read him better than anyone else in the world.
He wonders if that is why Ilya agrees to hear him out. “Okay,” he nods, slumping down into the couch impossibly further, a tiredness in his bones that comes with pre-rut. “Only if you put your glasses on though. To read your list.”
“I don’t think that would help us right now,” Shane shakes his head.
Ilya grunts. “You are probably right. I would want to fuck you twice as bad as I already do.”
Shane’s eyes drift down to where the lump in Ilya’s gray sweats makes itself known. It hasn’t gone away hardly at all from their brief makeout session, and his arousal sharpens his scent, deepens it, masculine and so heavy that if Shane takes in a deep enough breath he can feel it on his tongue.
“I um… I’ll be right back,” Shane steels himself, forcing his body away from the couch and towards the bedroom.
Shane uses the moment to calm himself down, though it’s hard. He’s torn between being turned on and nervous. His fingers hesitate around the metal spiral of the notebook, and for a moment he considers what will happen when Ilya tells him no.
He’s going to tell him no, and it’s going to hurt. He won’t give it a chance, Shane is sure.
There is a little flicker of hope though that his plan is strong enough that he can convince him, and that hope has him grabbing the notebook and walking back to the couch.
Shane drops down on the opposite side of the couch to put a semblance of distance between them. While he was gone, Ilya situated himself better, sitting up taller and looking more alert, though there’s still a certain look in his eyes that puts a flare of heat in Shane’s groin.
“Promise to listen?” Shane asks seriously. “Just… hear me out, is all I’m asking. I think we can make this work.”
Ilya swallows. “I will try,” he agrees in an uncharacteristically serious tone. “But I am not doing anything that could hurt you.”
Shane nods. That’s fine, that is understandable. He can work with that.
He flips open to the page he had jotted notes down on, cheeks warming as Ilya gets a glance at the various sex toys written in his chicken scratch handwriting.
“What is a concern you have with sharing a rut?” Shane decides to start, voice even and ready to address his worries.
“... Only you could make this sound like a business deal,” Ilya chides softly. “Fine. What if I think you are a threat? Growl at you? Try to fight you?”
Shane nods. Alpha-alpha interactions during a rut can be tense. Even in pre-rut it is advised to avoid one another. Heightened hormones and emotions make it all too common for two alphas to snarl at one another.
“Okay, for that there are these scent blockers, so maybe if you can’t smell me, I would seem more like a beta to you if you are really that out of it. But even if you just hate my scent, this would help. I also found these oils that mimic omega pheromones I can put on. The blockers don’t do anything but mask my scent,” Shane assures at the look of hesitation already crossing Ilya’s features. “And your reaction just now makes it seem like it won’t be an issue, but I read about how to appear more… submissive…” more like an omega. “So I can act a certain way to be less threatening.”
“Okay,” Ilya nods. “And if I am too demanding? Sex crazed?”
He’s trying to poke fun, but Shane stays sober. “There is lube that mimics omega slick. I can keep myself open with a-” his face burns. “A plug and you can use me whenever you want. If I can’t take it, I found a toy for you to knot. You probably already have one but I looked just in case. You can use it, or me, or both if you need it. But I can stay open and ready for you. And I don’t think there is ever a time that I don’t want it, so. We don’t have to worry about that.”
Shane’s ears are starting to burn, and there’s an uncomfortable knot in his stomach; a mix of arousal and anxiety.
Ilya gives him an uncertain look and Shane sighs. Ilya has always liked it when Shane said exactly what he wants, no matter how embarrassing. “It’s really hot to imagine you fucking me whenever you want. I want it. And if you were really so out of it that you don’t listen when I say to stop, it’s not like I’m weak and can’t defend myself.”
“You are incredibly strong,” Ilya agrees, a little coo in his voice that makes Shane’s cheeks burn.
“Shut up. I don’t think you would do that though. I think you would stop if I said to, even in rut.”
Ilya looks thoughtful for a moment before a realization crosses his face that Shane is probably right. “What if I try to bite you?”
Shane blinks.
Ilya stares intensely as Shane forces his brain to work. “I don’t think you would.”
“Oh, I would,” Ilya assures. “If I had you underneath me I might just claim you without thinking.”
He looks down, heart pounding. He wants Ilya to give him a mating bite. He wants to wear the claim of another alpha on his body and he knows it’s not possible right now. They’ve talked about this before, last year during those amazing few weeks at the cottage. Retirement, Shane had said. They could claim each other when they’re both retired, when no one gives a damn what they do and who they mate with.
Shane thinks back to the online cart he has, filled with all of these items. “I found a bite guard.”
“You would wear one?” Ilya asks.
Shane nods. Just the look of the contraption online looked miserable. It’s a stiff looking collar, again, meant for an omega in heat, perfectly blocking the nape of his neck where a claiming bite would go. He had looked at it but didn’t put it in the cart with the other things.
“The one I saw last night was meant for an omega. I can look for one for an alpha but I’m sure it wouldn’t be that different,” Shane nods again slowly, thinking.
“You have said the word omega a lot,” Ilya points out.
Shane winces, a deep ache filling his chest.
“Shane.”
Shane curls in on himself impossibly more. He stares down at his notes, trying to think if there is anything he missed. The majority of it is ‘what if’ scenarios, and notes on how to appear more submissive, more desirable to an alpha in rut.
Not for the first time today, Shane finds himself wishing he was different. He wishes he was softer, and that his body was meant to match Ilya’s. He wishes he didn’t have to do all of this research and buy all of these extra things to be able to satisfy his boyfriend and be allowed to take care of him. It isn’t fair, he thinks petulantly.
“I can show you what I have in the cart,” Shane says, trying to change the subject. He pulls his phone out, quickly opening his browser where the tab sits from last night. “I looked and there is an option for overnight shipping. It costs more but that isn’t an issue,” he explains as if he and Ilya do not have similar bank accounts after so many years as pro athletes. “How long do you think before you go into rut?”
“I am not sure. Soon. Is why I did not want to meet you at my place. I would be chasing your scent after you left,” Ilya has a knowing look in his eye, but he doesn’t force Shane to talk about it, and for that he is grateful.
“We have the four days coming up, and I can take some personal time too.”
“Shane Hollander? Taking personal time?” Ilya teases.
“It’s not a big deal,” Shane lies.
Ilya tilts his head, regarding him. “You would miss games for me?”
“It would only be one, maybe two,” Shane shrugs. It does kind of make him feel like dying to miss a game, but it’s early in the season still, and they’ve been on a win streak the past four games. And for the first time in his life, he thinks he might have found something he wants more than hockey. “I think they will survive without me.”
He says it casually. He wants it to be casual. It’s anything but that though and they both know it.
“Okay,” Ilya nods. “I will consider it. Show me this cart.”
It’s not a yes, but it’s a start. It fuels that little flame of hope in his heart.