Chapter Text
Since leaving the university heat clinic hand in hand, a few things happened. First was a very awkward dinner with Hayden who grilled Ilya about his intentions with Shane like he was a teenage girl in an 80s movie. He seemed partially convinced that Ilya had kidnapped and brainwashed him when they had lunch together without Ilya.
“We hated him!” He insisted. It wasn’t completely wrong, but it was entirely unhelpful.
“Hayden, we made up a personality based off his most annoying chirps to hate.”
“So??? I hate that guy I made up!” Hayden throws his hands up, gesturing wildly around like there was some important point that he was making.
“Well good thing that guy you made up isn’t actually Ilya!” Shane doubles down. Hayden will get there eventually.
It took a week of Hayden realizing that Ilya was actually quite nice to Shane to come around on the ides, though he grumbled about protection and how they couldn’t ruin Shane’s hockey career. As if Shane hasn’t had a nagging voice in the back of his head reminding him of that every heat since he presented.
The rest of the team was shocked, but otherwise supportive when they announced their relationship. JJ had clapped them on the shoulder, grinning wildly and shouting into the locker room.
“Capitane finally found someone good enough, eh?”
“Of course it was Rozy.” Troy laughed though it didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Shane wouldn’t settle for anything other than the best.”
Shane rolled his eyes and Ilya beamed. Because as much as Shane felt like a strange omega. Too bulky and masculine, his team talked about him like he was a prize. And Ilya was very proud to have won him.
Over the past few months they had basically moved in with each other. Shane and Hayden originally shared a room, but Hayden had been staying with his girlfriend Jackie more often than not. He insisted it was solely due to him and Jackie getting more serious, though the trend started suspiciously after Hayden had walked in on them half naked on the couch, rutting against each other. For the third time. That week. He had also taken to knocking loudly and announcing his presence, which Shane appreciated. Ilya had only shrugged, offering to show Hayden ‘how to treat an omega’ with waggling eyebrows.
The dorm slowly became their combined space. Shane put down everything on their fridge calendar. Practices, games, chores, and grocery lists. Ilya complained loudly about how not everything had to be scheduled, but took extra care to ensure everything was done on the date Shane had written.
The only thing missing from the shared calendar was, notably, Ilya’s rut. He had been meaning to ask Shane when they had a moment, maybe a calm home dinner after practice or something. But lately things have been so busy with midterms last week & their schedules had gotten misaligned and Ilya just hadn’t had a chance to bring it up.
He did now, he supposed. They were sitting on the cough, though it was technically a love seat, watching love is blind which had quickly become Shane’s favorite ‘brain off’ show for when he was too tired to think.
“Do you have any plans this week?” Ilya asks in what is hopefully a very normal and casual voice.
“Besides practice this week?” Shane asks, mentally running through his calendar. “Ive got lunch with Hayden on Thursday but that’s it.” Shane stops to look at Ilya, eyes narrowing suspiciously.
“Why?”
Ilya grabs a glass, hiding behind it as he takes a long drink of water.
“No reason. Just-” He sips again, shrugging. “My rut is supposed to start on Friday.”
Shane’s mouth falls open and he stares at Ilya incredulously.
“Ilya! That’s in 3 days!” He exclaims, moving to straddle the alpha, pinning his hands to his body so Ilya has no choice but to face Shane.
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Shane demanded to know. It was really unfair how cute he looked when he was angry, Ilya thought. He was destined to lose any argument the moment things got heated.
“I didn’t want to assume you wanted to share it.”
It was a flimsy excuse at best, but it was better than admitting to Shane that he was scared of how vulnerable he would be during his rut, stripped to his bare instincts.
Shane just sat in his lap, looking back and forth between his eyes like he would find a clear, logical answer to his question there.
“Ilya I have directly told you I want to share your rut with you. What is this really about?”
There was one downside to dating Shane Hollander. He couldn’t use his bullshit excuses for avoiding hard conversations anymore. He pried his hands out of Shane’s grip and brought them around his waist, pulling their bodies flush together. It would be easier to talk like this, not looking into Shane’s eyes.
“I’ve never spent it with someone before. I do not want to hurt you.” He mutters, inhaling Shane’s scent from the source and relaxing slightly.
“Ilya we have rough sex all the time.” Shane cards his hand through Ilya’s hair and scratches his scalp. Ilya hums and leans into the touch.
“I am afraid.” Ilya states, not sure exactly how to explain how he feels.
“Afraid of what?” Shane asks.
Ilya pauses, choosing his words carefully.
“Afraid I will be too much, too rough. Afraid that -” his voice drops, quieter. “that I will not listen if you tell me to stop.”
Shane pulls back, eyes boring into Ilya’s crumpled expression. His eyebrows are knitted together and he looks scared in a way he’s never seen before.
“You know I’m pretty strong, right?” Shane asks, jostling Ilya slightly. “I can punch you or something if I really don’t want something. I may not fight often,” Shane smiles. “But I lose even less.”
“Plus,” Shane adds, bringing his hand to cup Ilya’s jaw “I can’t think of anything you could possibly do to me that I wouldn’t like.”
“Ok, well don’t like, stab me.”
The laugh Ilya lets out is genuine, pulled out of him from the absolute ridiculousness of Shane’s suggestion.
“I’m not going to fucking stab you.” He bites playfully at Shane’s neck.
“Then we’re good.” Shane laughs too, smiling brightly now that he had shaken Ilya out of whatever thought spiral he had been spinning down.
“I also have a thing. What do you call it, ah. Muzzle. So I don’t claim you.”
Shane’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He had been a bit worried after his heat about that, especially with Ilya’s love of sucking hickies into his neck. But the image of Ilya in a fucking muzzle, desperately trying to bite into his scent gland did something to him. He shifted in Ilya’s lap, breath hitching at the way Ilya rubbed against him.
“You like it eh? Want to see me try to claim my pretty omega?” Ilya sniffs the air thoroughly permeated with Shane’s scent.
“Fuck, Ilya.” Shane grits out, grinding down against the alpha and pulling their lips together in a bruising kiss.
It doesn’t take long before they’re both naked, Shane’s folded stack of clothes next to Ilya’s crumpled heap. Ilya bites all over Shane’s shoulders and traps, sucking deep red marks that will be visible when Shane changes in the locker room before practice. He lets out a pleased noise knowing that their teammates will see just how well he takes care of his omega.
Ilya lifts them up and Shane’s legs clamp around his waist as he leads them to the bedroom. He indulges himself a bit, leaning Shane against the door and kissing him deeply. Shane pulls back and his face is flushed, making his freckles appear even clearer, much to Ilya’s delight.
“Bed?”
Ilya kisses Shane once more before pulling them off the door and tossing the omega on the bed. Shane moves to flip on his hands and knees but Ilya stops him with a firm hand on his hip.
“Wanna see you.” Is all he says before trailing kisses down Shane’s abdomen.
Ilya’s mouth is hot and so wet when he sucks Shane’s dick into his mouth, sinking easily to the base. Shane’s eyes screw shut, clearly overwhelmed by the pleasure and Ilya is in no hurry, shaking his head gently to get Shane just a tiny bit deeper down his throat before stilling completely. His breath fans out hot over Shane’s abdomen, and the omega whines above him, tugging on Ilya’s curls to goad him into moving.
“Ilya please.” Shane begs, body pitching forward in another futile attempt to spur him into motion.
Ilya does, however, bring a finger between Shane’s cheeks and rubs it against his slick hole. Shane’s hips buck again, and Ilya splays his hand over Shane’s stomach, lifting off Shane’s dick with an obscenely wet sound.
“If you move” his voice is low and gravelly. “I stop. You stay still?”
Ilya sinks his finger into the second knuckle, earning him an appreciative moan.
“I continue. Understood?”
Shane nods desperately, eager for more. “Da, ser” Yes, sir.
Shane didn’t pull out Russian phrases often when they had sex, only when he especially wanted to rile Ilya up. And it worked every time, if the low growl was anything to go off of.
“My kotik is such a little slut, all for me.” Ilya coos, sliding in a second finger and brushing, just barely against his prostate.
Shane’s hands reached above and behind him to grip the headboard firmly. Ilya sank back down all the way and it was so much, all at once. Shane couldn’t help but twitch his hips, which way he wasn’t certain. Just somewhere, chasing more. True to his word though, Ilya stilled completely and the onslaught of pleasure fell down to a comfortable baseline. But it wasn’t enough. Shane furrowed his brows and concentrated on stilling completely. Ilya didn’t move right away, and waited long enough for Shane to look curiously down at Ilya. His mouth, stretched wide over Shane’s dick and two fingers buried inside of him. He looked beautiful like this. Their eyes locked for a moment and Ilya fucking winked, then resumed his ministrations eagerly.
The moans that fell out of Shane were desperate and needy things. His grip on the headboard tightened and his knuckles turned white under the strain. He can’t help it when things get too much, when Ilya brushes his prostate just right. He moves. And Ilya stops moving. It’s agony, Ilya’s fingers still pressed against his prostate but his mouth is still, tongue limp against him and it is so, so much but not nearly enough.
Once the third finger is inside him, Shane starts getting really desperate. His muscles ache with the constant tension forcing him still, but he can’t help it. He needs more, needs so desperately to squirm and drink and fuck up into Ilya’s hot wet mouth.
“Please, fuck Ilya Please.”
Then Ilya’s mouth slips off Shane’s dick and he hisses at the cold air. He sucks a mark into Shane’s thigh, breath hot and labored.
“So good for me Kotik.” Ilya praises, kissing up the length of Shane’s body until they’re face to face. “You know, if you moved, fucked my face, I wouldn’t have moved either.”
“huh?” Shane blinks, not entirely sure what Ilya means.
“You are so good you didn’t even think of taking advantage of the rules.”Ilya’s voice is so sweet and dripping with condescension.
“But you said-” Shane tries to justify himself.
“Could have fucked yourself down on my fingers. Made yourself cum. But you wanted to be so good for me.” Ilya kisses Shane and pushes his thighs up, presenting himself with Shane’s hole.
“My little rule follower.”
Shane’s chest tightens in embarrassment and his cheeks are warm. Ilya knew him too well, his desire to rise to a challenge and never look for loopholes or dirty tricks. He was told the rules, and followed them at face value.
He was ultimately rewarded for it, as Ilya finally sank into him with one fluid movement. They both moaned in deep satisfaction. Ilya glanced down between them, watching himself getting swallowed into Shane’s tight wet heat and lets out a shaky exhale.
“How do you want it kotik?” Ilya asked
“Hard?” he thrusts sharply, making Shane’s eyes fly open. “Or soft?” He rolls his hips and Shane’s eyelids flutter closed as his chest rises and falls with each breath.
“Soft, Ilya please.”
He wanted to feel delicate, to feel like something to be handled with care before things got too crazy. Before he lost the softness Ilya was capable of in the haze of alpha hormones.
Ilya kissed Shane softly and nodded his head in acknowledgment. He pulled out slowly and pushed back in, wiggling his sips side to side once he bottomed out. Ilya’s dick brushed tantalizingly against Shane’s prostate, making him leak messily on his stomach.
“Feel so fucking good around me baby.” Ilya groaned, rolling his hips slightly faster and more insistently against that spot inside of him.
Shane moaned loudly, it really wasn’t fair how good Ilya was at hitting his prostate every time they had sex. He felt wrung out and he hadn’t even cum yet, though his dick throbbed between his legs. He moved to grab it, to alleviate some of the mounting pressure but paused, looking wide eyed at the alpha.
“Can I?” Shane asked, breathless.
“Oh my sweet Kotik.” Ilya was looking at him that way he does sometimes, soft and amazed like he can’t quite believe that Shane’s real. It makes his heart beat out of his chest.
“Of course you can. But only if you cum on my dick.” Ilya adds, as if Shane would have wanted it any other way.
He nods eagerly, accepting his terms. Shane starts stroking himself slowly, just enough that his whines edge towards desperate and a bright blush dusts his cheeks.
“Close.” Shane sounds drunk, looks drunk with the way his head is lolled to the side. He grips slightly harder, timing each stroke with Ilya’s thrusts.
Ilya knows Shane needs it a little bit faster. He can see it in the way his hips try to meet Ilya half way, to spur him into action. And Shane has been so very good, it would only be right. So he picks up the pace and Shane’s mouth falls open, sounds of pleasure simply falling out of him. Ilya loves when he’s like this, lost in the feeling of being fucked, chasing the high of an orgasm so fiercely that he loses speech. The hand on his dick picks up speed in response to Ilya’s thrusts and it only takes a minute before he’s crying out, spilling onto his stomach.
For all of Ilya’s teasing about Shane coming quickly, Ilya is always just barely behind. The omega clenches around his cock like a vice grip and there’s nothing he can do to stop himself from spilling into Shane. His hips still and his fingers dig into the meat of Shane’s thighs hard enough to bruise as he rides out his orgasm.
They stay there for a moment, catching their breaths. Ilya pulls out slowly and cleans Shane up and they fall into bed, exhausted but content.
“Can’t believe you want to see me in muzzle so bad. Is turn on?”
Shane laughs, pulling Ilya closer to lay on his chest.
“It’s just hot, the idea that you’d lose control around me.”
Ilya hummed in understanding. “Was kind of same for your heat.” Ilya nods into his skin. “Was fantasy for a while you know. What perfect Canadian hockey player would be like without his perfect control.”
Shane smiles. He isn’t quite as high strung as before they got together but he’s still himself, heavily regimented and disciplined in everything hockey related, even flimsily.
“You may not be as boring as me usually,” Shane emphasizes, using Ilya’s favorite adjective to describe him. “But even checking everyone into the boards, I can tell you keep some of yourself hidden away.” Shane trails off, rubbing soothing circles into the alpha’s skin.
“I’m excited to see those parts.”
Ilya’s jaw tightens little enough that Shane doesn’t notice. But Ilya had been worried of that most of all, how emotional and needy he might get without all the cocky bravado, when it’s only his alpha and the only person that he has felt at home with since his mother died. It was a terrifying risk, being known.
But for Shane? He would try. He would lay himself out at the altar of Shane’s soul and hope that he would be taken in, scars and all.