Chapter Text
Chapter 1 – Welcome back surprise
Ilya dialled "1919" on the door's digital lock, receiving a confirmative unlocking sound as an answer.
The russian had just headed back from Moscow after his father's death and had his first game after a week off. Ilya subconsciously thanked god for it being against Montreal Metros because he – embarrassingly – couldn't wait to see the other team's captain.
Ilya even felt a little guilty for wanting it so bad, because his father had just died but all he wanted since was to leave Russia as soon as possible to go back to his gorgeous vile archrival, Shane Hollander.
And there he was – finally –, after fighting the urge to touch Shane, to hold him, to kiss him everytime the canadian threw the sweetest smiles at him – because he knew they were meant for him – during the entire game that night. The least he could do was look at the metro and tease him on the ice.
Oh how he'd missed it.
But now – right in front Hollander's front door –, now was time for what he missed the most.
Having him.
Not just as in a mind blowing hook up, but having him as if he was actually his. His to love, to care and to cherish. His, boring, stunning, part asian omega rival that he was deeply in love with and whose freckles were the most beautiful he has ever seen.
Although Ilya knew he needed to end things with Hollander, he kind of decided to let himself have a little "praise" after he came back from the trip. That night wouldn't be the night, couldn't be the night.
Not after the way Shane was there for him, not right after he listened to his complains and confessions so carefully.
Not when Ilya misses him so much it feels like someone's squeezing and pinching and then wrenching his heart out of his chest.
He was going to give himself a little break and just enjoy the way being around Shane made him feel. Plus, he heard the Metro's star hasn't been feeling well lately – something about stomach problems – so he just wanted to be nice to him.
As soon as the door unlocks, Ilya carefully pushes it open, muttering a "hello" while finally being able to look inside. Shane quickly popped from the stairs, smilling widely when he saw Ilya. The canadian went straight forward to the other – that stepped inside, letting the door close behind him – and attached their mouths together in between giggles and smiles.
Shane melted into Ilya with the other's response and wasn't being able to hold noises.
After a long peck he broke the kiss, hugging Ilya tight and breathing his neck as if his scent was the best thing he has ever smelled – it was, actually.
The other way atound, Ilya smelled him like he could finally breath and, at the same time, as if Shane was gonna disappear.
He felt like he was actually home now.
"I missed you." Hollander let it slip in a slurred voice.
Ilya kissed the crock of his neck again, tightening the enlace as if saying he had missed Shane too. He wishes he could say it out loud. Fuck, he wishes he could give up on everything.
Shane proceeded to give him small little kisses all over his face, not full of burning desire – yet, at least – like he once did, but caring and loving soft kisses.
Fuck, Hollander was gonna make it hard wasn't him? Ilya loved when Shane was affectionate towards him.
But it also made him terrified.
It made him terrified, that Shane always wore his heart on a sleeve, no matter how much he tried to deny it and it was the most lovely thing ever.
"I'm so sorry. How are you?" The canadian cupped his face and rested their foreheads together.
How could Shane talk to him in such a sweet tone like that, what the fuck.
"Better now, yes?" He gripped Shane's chin and kissed him for a moment. "Kicking your ass today put me in good mood." He whispered in the asians ear, briefly bitting his earlobe with a smirk Shane knew was on the russian's face, even if not seeing it.
"Asshole" Shane retorted slapping Ilyas chest, but not being able to hold his own big smile. Ilya grinned, connecting their mouths together again.
"I'm serious!" Shane insisted, talking between the kisses, what made the other step away for a moment. Ilya sighed before cupping Hollander's face and looking him dead in the eyes.
"Me too. I feel better, okay?" He said calmly as he caressed shanes cheek, letting a little curve slip in his lips. "Thank you."
It was sincere. The words left Ilyas mouth full of admiration and actual gratitude.
Ilya finished kissing shane slow and tender on the lips.
That night it was clear some things had cheanged already. Starting by the sex, that obviously was more of a "making love" thing by now, but neither of them would actually admit it. Tender, careful, romantic touches. They both would just go in eachothers pace – a little more free now – but still trying not to hit some sort of limit they didn't know about.
But it was just... beautiful.
Shane tought Ilya was beautiful, Ilya tought Shane was beautiful, the way they shared eachother was beautiful.
×××
What Shane and Ilya didnt expect was that their night would end up turning into a teary scary chaos.
Shane was doing them dinner while Ilya observed him from the counter – Shane got all scary and said he wasn't allowed to help –, when suddenly the russian saw the other weirdly frowning his face and leaning on the counter.
"You okay?" Ilya asked immediatly, getting closer to him.
"Yeah, yeah, just a little dizz-" Before he finished, Shane ran to the bathroom – hand over his mouth –, just in time to leave everything in his stomach into the toilet.
"Shane!" A worried Ilya exclamed as he followed the canadian to the bathroom. "Hey, hey..." he kneeled on the floor, caressing shanes back until he finished.
Then Shane seated back against the wall, panting and sweating from the effort. "Sorry."
Ilya just denied with his head, reaching for a hand towel and extending it to Shane.
"How long you been feeling unwell?"
"I dont know, it just... the food smell made me sick suddenly." He looked at Ilya one last time before resting his head back on the wall, closing his eyes.
It was weird. Shane was the one making the food – and it smelled amazing – so it made no sense for him to feel sick. Ilya put his hand on Shane's knee caressing it with his thumb.
"You've been feeling sick lately, havent you? I've seen it on the news."
Shane nodded, not bothering to open his eyes or change his position. Some gossip pages had published about it.
"What is it, havent you gone to doctor?"
"Yes, they gave me some medication at the hospital and some stomach pills." He was finally able to look back at Ilya.
Shane went to the emergency, so they basically treated his symptoms and everyone assumed he was having gastritis or something because of some weird stuff he had been eating.
"And it didnt stop? Why?"
"I dont know just... my stomach seems not wanting to hold anything lately." Shane shrugged. "I'm sorry, it usually happens in the morning. I took medicine so it didn't happen-"
"Shane... I do not care if you vomit or whatever, it just does not look normal, yes?" He scrapped the back of his fingers on the canadian's cheek. "Feeling sick for weeks, your team does not have doctor too? Is he stupid?"
"Stop." Captain Shane on board to defend his team. "The hospital doctor said it was probably gastritis and that I didn't had much to do about it but eat well, do some allergie exams and take some pills. I've not like... kept my team aware that I still feel sick too..."
"Fuck Hollander, you think you what? Fucking Iron Men? And how are you supposed to eat even more healthy? You starting only water diet?"
Shane wanted to laugh but was still nauseus. "Shut up, my stomach still hurts."
"Im serious."
Ilya thought about it for a moment.
Morning sickeness for weeks. Maybe he could say Shane was more clingy lately too, right? His texts were just so sweet – or angry – now and he started to be just so openly affectionate with Ilya. Maybe... could it be?
"When was your last heat?" Ilya asked.
"I dont know, maybe seven weeks ago? Im almost a month late by now." Shane still had no clue.
"A month?" Ilya said in disbelief.
"Yeah, team's doc said it was normal, probably because I changed supressants."
"You changed supressants?" Ilya's eyes were now wide. At this point did they even need any more information?
"Yeah, this one was better for sports performance."
"Shane." The serious tone called the Metro's attention. "Did you take a pregnancy test?"
"What? Why would-" Shane started but soon realization hit him. "Shit... do you think I could? I-I couldn't right? God, I feel sick again."
"Hey." Ilya wabbled his knee gently. "It's okay. I'll get you some water and have a test delivered here, yes?" Ilya lifted shanes chin for a moment. "Can you stand?"
Shane agreed and Ilya kissed his head before they parted different ways. Shane washed his face, brushing his teeth next.
Meanwhile, Ilya bought the test and put away the food shane was cooking. As soon as the asian hit the sofa then, Ilya brought him a glass of water.
Shane took a sip, facing the ceiling next.
"I cant be... I cant right? I mean, we use condoms too, it makes no sense." He said but his mind was already going through a spiral.
He did have morning sickness for a few weeks now. Maybe he has gotten emotional – as in >emotional< – about not being able to have an ice cream cone. His skin was a little less perfect lately and he has been craving weird seasoning. He cried more than his mother over a drama movie they've watched a million times a couple days ago.
He cried about Ilya. A lot.
He was late, he was considerably late.
Shit.
Ilya didn't actually have time to respond because the intercom announced the delivery guy was there. They asked him to leave it by the door and so he did.
"Do you want me to help somehow?"
"I'm just gonna take a piss, Ilya!" Shane's tone was definetly mad, what made Ilya just raise his hands up in redemption.
"I'll wait here then." The other didn't bother to answer and just slammed the door.
Shane took a few minutes reading the instructions.
As soon as he finished all he was supposed to, he kept staring at it waiting for the results. He had shaking hands, and was nevoursly tapping his foot. He waited what did feel like a lifetime, but was actually two minutes.
"Pregnant 4-8 weeks".
No. No no no no no.
Shane's head was spinning. Tears were rolling down his cheeks and he started hiperventilanting. Fuck no.
His stomach only had to remember him it existed once, before he dropped to his knees again, throwing up whatever was left out to.
Ilya entered the bathroom instantly after the noise. "Fuck. Hey, hey, hey..." he kneeled on the floor again, putting a hand on Shanes back. He saw the test on the floor and got it, taking a quick look. Ilya took a deep breath and closed it in his palm, returning his attention to Shane. They couldnt be both freaking out at the same time, Shane needed him right now and he was his alpha – or at least he wanted to, even if he knew that would never happen.
"I can't, I can't, Ilya, I can't..." Shane uttered in a weak cracked voice, while leaning against the toilet sit.
"Hey." Ilya pulled Shane back so he could craddle him, and placed a kiss on his shoulder. "It will be okay, yes?"
"How?! How will it be okay Ilya?! I can't just appear pregnant by my biggest rival! I dont even know how- oh my god my parents..."
Ilya tightened the enlace between them twisting Shane and putting a hand on his face to look at him in the eye.
"Hollander I've never, ever, seen something you can't actually do. It's not gonna be easy, but we will find solution, yes?"
Shane sobbed before his face just crumpled.
Fuck it made the russian's heart sting.
Ilya held him against his chest, placing a kiss on the top of his head. "We will figure this out. Together. I'm not leaving you alone in this, okay?"
Shane nodded on Ilya's chest, sniffing. "Promise?"
"Promise Hollander."