Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Heated Rivalry (TV)

Relationships:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander/Hayden Pike - mentioned

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov

Additional Tags:

Morning Sickness, Unplanned Pregnancy, Discussion of Abortion, Consensual Infidelity, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Shane Hollander, Alpha Ilya Rozanov, Alpha Hayden Pike, accidental bitching, Hurt No Comfort, Non-graphic vomiting, Ambiguous/Open Ending

Language:

English

Series:

Part 5 of [challenge] Heated Rivalry Febuwhump 2026

Stats:

Published: 2026-02-05 Words: 1,385 Chapters: 1/1

lines in the snow

Summary

Shane has been getting sick in the mornings. But he’s an alpha, so it can’t mean anything – right?

Notes

Day 5: Chose the first ALT prompt in pregnancy.

The first time it happens, Shane thinks nothing about it. It’s their first game back after Christmas break, and if he’s been a bit queasy over the holidays – well, that’s only to be expected with the copious amounts of barely-in-plan meals. It’s been a gruelling season so far, and he’d been ravenous, and of course his body hadn’t been used to it.

So when he wakes up in Buffalo on game day and barely makes it to the bathroom before he’s throwing up – well, he grimaces at himself while brushing his teeth and vows that next year, he’ll stick to his meal plan, even if his mom encourages him to deviate.

Hayden, thank god, sleeps through the whole mortifying ordeal.

The second time is two days later, this time thankfully at home. He’s been queasy ever since Buffalo, adjusting his diet accordingly to make it as bland-yet-serviceable as possible, and so when he’s kneeling in front of the toilet again, all he can think is shit. He’s probably caught something.

For once, he calls out of morning skate – no use getting the rest of the team sick – and by game time, he’s good to go. Hopefully, his body will get over whatever this is quickly.

Shane keeps waking up nauseous, and some days it’s worse than others, but it’s… okay. Bearable. He keeps throwing up every once in a while, which is unpleasant every time, but mostly, he learns to breathe past the nausea until his body wakes up and gets over it.

And then they play in Boston.

Hayden waggles his eyebrows when Shane leaves, so Shane rolls his eyes in response, and is actually smiling by the time he rings the doorbell at Rozanov’s house.

“Hi.”

“Hello, Hollander.” Rozanov smiles and leans in for a slow kiss that he turns into a series of little nips along Shane’s jaw, his throat, down to the scent gland – not a proper scenting, but something like it. Something good. A quick swipe of Rozanov’s tongue, and Shane’s knees almost buckle as he tips into him.

“Hm,” Rozanov says against his jugular, nosing his way up to the sensitive spot behind Shane’s ear. “You smell… different. Off.”

“Been under the weather,” Shane says, half ready to explain the saying, but Rozanov chuckles.

“Maybe you miss me.”

I did, Shane thinks, and drags Rozanov’s head back to his so he can bury the words in his mouth before he says them out loud. He did. He missed this – Hayden helped him through his surprise rut in early December, but that was his best mate helping him through an unfortunate out-of-rhythm cycle. Hayden doesn’t compare to Ilya, to the way Ilya reels him in and kisses him like he owns him.

They fall into each other like puzzle pieces, even though they haven’t seen each other since last season, because their December game had been postponed due to a freak snowstorm that kept the Boston team grounded, and something unclenches in Shane’s body. It’s familiar. It’s safe. He’s fine.

That feeling of being fine lasts all the way to Rozanov making them lunch – tuna melts – at which point Shane’s body decides to rebel violently. He just barely spares himself the indignity of throwing up right there, but he still can’t convince himself to come out of the bathroom even at Rozanov’s coaxing until Rozanov has put the tuna away.

Shit.

What the fuck.

“I do not like this,” Ilya says where he’s hovering around Shane while Shane takes tiny, shaky sips of ginger ale that he prays his body won’t immediately reject again.

“I’m fine.”

“You are not fine! You smell off, you are throwing up – you need to go see team doctor! Deal with this, not avoid it!”

“Like you’re dealing with your family?” Shane regrets the words the moment they’re out of his mouth, but Ilya’s face only hardens.

“You are not well, so I will let this go. Go to team doctors, Shane. It is no fun to beat you when you are so sick.”

“I’m fine,” Shane repeats, because he is, and he doesn’t want to leave Ilya’s side. They’ve had sex once, and he’d been banking on at least a second round, and it’s probably only that the tuna was off –

He gags again at the mere thought, hastily takes another sip of his ginger ale. Breathes through his nose until his stomach is settled again. What the hell is going on with his body?

“You have to go see team doctor now, Shane,” Ilya says, and there’s something in his voice that tells Shane there is no getting out of this one. Not when Ilya looks at him like this. Not when Ilya calls him by his first name. “I – I cannot worry about you on top of everything else.”

All the fight goes out of Shane. “Fine,” he says grudgingly. “I probably ate something off, but – fine. If it’s not better tomorrow morning, I’ll talk to them.”

Ilya hmphs, but he does follow Shane back out of the bathroom. He throws together simple pasta with inoffensive chicken, which Shane’s body does accept, and then cuddles Shane aggressively on the couch. It’s – really fucking good. Slow in a way they’ve never been, and Shane doesn’t even protest when Ilya herds him to his bed and fucks him again, and spoons him before Shane can try to leave.

It’s not better by the next morning, though Shane makes it to the rink and through morning skate without bigger issue. He’s maybe a little fatigued, but that’s to be expected, and so the travelling medics clear him to play for the night but tell him to report to the medical facility the next morning once they’re home.

Ilya glowers at the face-off, but he doesn’t coddle Shane during the game or single him out, so Shane counts it as a win, over-all.

When he sends Ilya a picture of the plaque next to the team doctor’s office before practice the next morning, he sends back a simple, Proud of you.

Shane stuffs his phone in his pocket without replying, and definitely does not blush.

“What?” Shane asks faintly when Martha, their team doctor, falls silent. “I – what. That’s – impossible, I’m – I’m an alpha –” For all his other differences, no one’s ever question that part: he has the build, the on-ice aggressiveness, the natural leadership that people ascribe to a typical alpha. He has the voice, too, for all that he doesn’t like using it; doesn’t have the lubrication glands that omegas have.

Martha smiles apologetically. “It’s rare,” she says, in her soothing beta voice. Almost all the staff are betas, because it’s safer – easier – when a lot of your players are alphas. Like they’re all mindless assholes. “But it does happen. If you’re around… other alphas, or engage in specific sex acts with them, it can trigger a spontaneous change in your hormone balance. It’ll take a while for the full effects to take hold, but fertility often is an early one. So yes, Shane, I’m afraid you are pregnant.”

Pregnant.

It’s no easier hearing it a second time, sends the world spinning anew and blood rushing in Shane’s ears.

Pregnant. And there’s no chance it’s Ilya’s. Fuck. It’s Hayden’s.

Shane feels like throwing up, though for an entirely different reason this time.

He’s pregnant with Hayden’s baby after he and Ilya are finally on their way to figuring shit out – and Shane wasn’t kidding: he still has too much hockey left in him.

“You don’t need to make a decision right now,” Martha tells him, like there’s any question what his decision will be – has to be. Fuck. Does he need to tell Hayden? He’ll have to tell Ilya, just to get him to lay off, but – fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“I – need to make a call.” He’s not gonna keep it, but he needs to talk to Ilya. Needs to hear his voice, needs someone to talk this over with. And for once, it can’t be either his parents or Hayden. It can’t.

“Of course. Do what you need to do. But I want you back to talk about contraception going forward.”

“Yes,” Shane says, and then turns around and flees. He has a call to make – everything else has to wait.