Chapter 1: kill me softly like you want me euthanized

“You’re starting to sound like him.” Shane blinked down at Hunter from where he was standing,” What did you mean by that?” Where before there had been the roar of fans and players, now there was muffled noise and a cold sort of terror Shane thought only came with death. He could feel it slithering down his spine and settling into his veins, icing out all the heat that came from a win. How had it fallen apart so fast? Logically he knew there was never the chance for a future between him and the Russian alpha, but he thought they had more time. Maybe not much given what happened in Vegas, but more, nonetheless. Now Scott Hunter was going to take that from them- him. Suddenly his hands felt the cold as his gloves dropped and he was lunging at the older alpha. He could see the surprise on his face at the attack, fuck, he could hear the surprise in the arena. Everything came rushing in all at once as the cacophony of voices kept climbing, excited shouts from fans at this new side of Shane. An angry, desperate side of Shane. His fist barely had time to skim the side of Hunter’s jaw before there were bodies between them, but that didn’t stop his momentum. Trying to buck the hands off of him and get at Hunter, needing to shut him up. He kept yelling as he was dragged off, not sure what was coming out of his mouth but enjoying the way Hunter’s face was twisting up. Good. Shane knew this wasn’t a fight he would win but why would that stop him. He lived for a challenge. - As soon as his skates left the ice, his body deflated. All the anger holding him up rushed out and left him standing in the middle of a circle of surely disappointed teammates and coaches. He could faintly hear Pike at his back - What happened? What did he say to you? - but all he could do was look at the piece of snow still stuck to his blades. Moving in any capacity felt impossible. “Hollander.” God, he hated it when other people called him that. It was missing a curl around the L’s, how it was said like the goal was to swallow him whole. But his coach was still talking. “- done. We can finish this without you.” Ah. Fair enough. He nodded his head and slowly forced his legs forward, pushing his body to move towards the tunnel when all he wanted was to collapse. (A small part of him knew this intense of a reaction was indicative of a likely larger problem, but he ignored it). Making his way through claps on his shoulders that made him want to crawl out of his skin and half- hearted feel better’s, Shane found his way into the dark of the walkway. Out of the view of thousands of eyes, he let his shoulders drop. He’d fucked up. He’d fucked up and he could feel his eyes welling with the thought. It was expected of most hockey players to fight- it was part of why everyone who entered the stadium was required to wear scent patches, to try and keep the tension contained to the game and out of instinct. Though, Shane had never had a problem with instinct. He’d never presented. Not presenting meant he couldn’t smell anyone other than his parents, and even then it was a faint thing. It was probably his closest, (well one of two), secret. He wasn’t an in control, smooth alpha- he was an error, and tonight he’d let himself go over something that was barely his to fight for. There was no way Hunter didn’t know what he and Rozanov were doing now, Shane’s reaction had kind of confirmed it. The locker room was empty, of course. He stumbled over to his locker and began to strip mechanically, pulling off each pad by muscle memory and no real choice of his own. His phone was lighting up where it sat in his cubby, but there wasn’t a single part of him that wanted to see what was waiting. Mom had probably sent six messages by now- starting with concern over him and quickly devolving into concern over PR, with his dad not far behind. While he wanted there to be a text waiting for him from Lily, the months of silence laughed at him. Turning away from the string of unanswered texts, Shane wandered his way into the showers and rinsed off with the same level of autonomy, putting himself through his routine because one more deviation from it today would almost definitely end with him in a breakdown. He was almost there as he was right now, and anything else would push him out of his spiral and into a full-blown free fall. An ugly thing clawed at his throat as he redressed, pulling on his hoodie that happened to have been on Rozanov’s floor at one point. Tears had kept gathering on his waterline since he’d left the rink, and now they slipped down his cheeks. A frantic gasp escaped him as he rushed to rub at his eyes, “Come on, man. Get it together.” His whisper landed dead in the locker room and he sucked in a deep breath. Grabbing his bag and still buzzing phone Shane hurried through the halls of the stadium to the players garage and slid himself into the driver’s seat of his Wrangler. He took another deep breath and held it, waiting for some of the pressure in his chest to release before blowing out and starting the engine with tears still sitting pretty on his lashes. The drive took him longer than it normally did, but everything felt like he was moving through molasses, sticking to his skin and clothes and trying to hold him in place. The sight of his front door gave him a burst of energy and he moved the fastest he had since he was playing to get inside. Slamming the door behind him and dropping to the ground with his back against the door. Head between his knees, he stayed there breathing shallowly with unfocused eyes for an unknowable amount of time, mind shut off behind tired doors. When Shane lifted his head a loud pop rang through his empty apartment, neck cracking after being bent for so long. He unfurled himself from his ball on the floor and reached for his bag, dragging himself to his bedroom to put his things away. In the bottom left drawer of his cabinet was a set of pajamas that he’d bought on a whim, that were soft and perfect and necessary for when his eyes were seeing too much and he could feel every inch of his skin pulled taut on his body. Fuck, I haven’t felt this bad in a while, not since- A whine interrupted his train of thought. He glanced around the room, searching for where the continuous trill could be coming and froze when he felt the vibration in his throat producing the sound. Never had he made a sound like that before. Panic began clawing at him again, closely accompanied by confusion. Trying to snap out of it, he pulled on the new shirt and pants and curled up with his pile of pillows. To get comfortable he kneaded at them, pushing them around until he was in the middle of the pile and pulled heavy blankets over him, sinking into the firm hold of the mattress. He could feel as his eyes fluttered closed and the noise he’d been making slowly trailed off, falling off into an uneasy sleep with it. - Shane woke up to sweat pooling under him and a vicious heat clinging to his bones. Getting out from his little fortress of pillows, he stumbled to the kitchen to get water, downing three cups before he slowed enough to notice a new ache at his neck and a new smell drifting through his apartment. The distant scent of sweet citrus, sea salt, and a heady warmth shocked him still. He’d read about this in school, everyone read about this in the mandatory classes on presentations and sex ed. When children presented, the first thing to change would be their vocal chords, slowly shifting to produce the sounds associated with their designation- purrs for omegas then growls for alphas, while betas were left blissfully unchanged. Then the first cycle would hit, either a heat or a rut. It would be the longest one of their life, normally lasting up to a week, but Shane had presented almost impossibly late that there was no telling how long he’d be stuck like this. He felt like he was drowning and every part of him ached. Needing a kind touch to soothe whatever parts of him felt too raw to even exist. The panic from last night quickly reared its head. Being unpresented was fine, was preferred even. He didn’t have to combat the same instincts that his peers did. Being an Omega was a little less fine. There wasn’t much discrimination left in the league at this point, but it would certainly earn him some side eyes, and questions on the legitimacy to his rise to stardom, (which would make no sense because everyone could see the way he played, the way he shined). But he couldn’t afford to be ostracized anymore, he already fell behind with his teammates socially- with his weird habits, strange diet, and an inability to not follow a nightly routine of staying in, being an Omega on a team full of Betas and Alphas would nail that coffin shut. Shane spun around, spying his phone where he’d left it on the counter yesterday. He shakily typed out his password and found the number for the team doctor, hitting the button to voice record because his hands had only started shaking harder the longer he stood there. “Hey- um, I’m not sure what triggered it but I think I’m presenting? I woke up feverish and, uh,” he bit his lip, fighting against the embarrassment clawing at his cheeks,” achy?” Hitting send, he checked the time and saw it was nine in the morning, meaning he’d be getting a response within 15 minutes. Still anxiously chewing at his lip, he almost threw his phone when the chime sounded, a new message from the doctor popping up. There was a link to a survey that detailed heat symptoms and asked for a scaled response then a final tally, thankfully letting him show what was happening to him without having to explain it out loud, I think I’d rather die like this, he mused to himself. Sending off the final score, he waited less than a minute more before the next response came. “You have the next two weeks off. No exception, do not come to practice. Will tell the media it’s time off for fighting.” A breath of equal parts relief and fear escaped Shane. For one, he didn’t have to worry about anyone finding out yet, but now he had to deal with a heat at his ripe age with only one dildo and no food prep. Fuck. He was feeling hotter by the second, his normally perfect pajamas now too much on his slick skin. Filling a large water bottle and pocketing his phone, he made a trip to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face. If I have to do this I can at least go into it clean. His routine was falling apart around him but he was more focused on getting back to his pillows as soon as possible. Taking every towel he could find, he made his way back to his bed- or what he supposed was now his nest. He laid the towels on top of the covers, then stripped down to nothing and got back onto the bed. Exhaustion from the morning and previous day filtered back into his brain, letting him slip back into sleep before the heat truly began. - Ilya had had a knot in his chest since yesterday. Watching Hollander play had always been enjoyable, he was a good player- had to be to be mentioned in the same breath as Ilya. The game yesterday hadn’t left him with that same satisfaction as it usually would have, not after watching Shane’s first fight happen against fucking Scott Hunter. A nasty feeling was finding a home in his chest the longer he thought about it. Fire and hunger had been drawn all over Hollander’s pretty face during the fight, a look that had never been directed at him. A look that should have only ever been directed at him- his alpha had been agitated since. It felt like there was tension coiled under his skin, like the alpha would only need a little nudge to go over the edge. Then the Voyager’s released the press statement- Due to the events that occurred yesterday, Shane Hollander will be serving an in-team suspension for the following week. What. Hollander didn’t even land a real punch and he was suspended. So many little rules followed that man around that he couldn’t even get into a barely-fight without suspension? Stupid Canadians, suspending their best player, he scoffed. His phone sat on the couch next to him, the string of unanswered texts haunting the back of his mind but he put them off for now. Opening the chat with Jane, he scrolled past the read messages with guilt before starting his own, for the first time in months. Hollander’s worry for him was cute as it was off-putting, pushing Ilya into a corner he didn’t know how to get out of without blowing up. Little hit and you are out? So silly, Jane. Was not even real fight The last message sent and he exhaled. Now he just had to wait for his Hollander to bite. Patience is a virtue. – Shane jolted out of his bed for the second time that day, but this time he was on fire. Hot, burning desire sat behind his teeth and in his stomach, begging for anything. Thick thighs were soaked and slipping where they pressed together, his new scent covering everything in the room and suffocating him. Another long, high whine left his throat as an aching flush covered his body. In his bedside drawer was his only dildo, and he rolled onto his side to yank it out of its spot. It was a small seven inches and not as thick compared to what he wanted, but beggars can’t be choosers. Shane dropped it next to him and slid onto his stomach, pressing his sore chest down into the towels with a moan. His nipples rubbed against the scratchy fabric and his mouth dropped, drool starting to pool under his tongue. As heat kept building Shane let his hips arch in the air and knees slip wide, back bowing to keep his chest pressed into the bed. He squirmed to rub his nipples harder against the bed, a wandering hand sliding down his side and ghosting a touch against an aching cock. Oh God. If he gathered all the fluid dripping off his tip someone would think it came from a pussy with how wet he was. The sheer amount of liquid would have been enough on its own to act as lube. Shane moaned again, high and desperate for a touch that he couldn’t have. The hand by his cock twitched, nudging the rigid length and sparking shivers up his back. Tentatively, he grasped his cock in his hand. A loud gasp echoed and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to fight off the orgasm sneaking through his body. Slowly moving his hand, he kept his shaking hand loose and gentle, painfully aware of how keyed up he was. In time with his strokes, Shane’s other hand also followed a path down his body, ghosting fingernails over raw nipples and yelping at the feeling. Continuing down, his other hand found its way to his hole, hesitantly prodding at where he was swollen and- Ding. The alert from his phone snapped him out of the haze he’d drifted into. Forcing himself to let go of his cock, Shane moved toward where his phone rested on the ground, expecting a follow-up text from the doctor. Carefully maneuvering so he didn’t accidentally cum with a light brush, he reached out to the floor and grabbed his phone. He flopped backwards with his phone in his hands, shivering as sweat began cooling on his body. Shaky fingers tapped in his passcode and the name he saw at the top of his messages almost threw him off a cliff. Lily - 2 new messages. A whine escaped him, loud through the silent room and reverbing with the need now seeping out of his pores. His scent spiked and thickened to the point of a smog on his senses, barely able to function past the thought of his alph- Rozanov. Swiping open the chat all he could see was that accent in his head, smoky and deep- heavy on the consonants and light over vowels, dragging against his brain like a balm. Fuck. Shane’s cock could have been crying for how wet it was, and he kept leaking more and more slick. The messages seemed normal for them but it’s not like Shane could read right now. He doubted he could speak if he wanted to. Another whine trickled out, lower and needy, like he was calling for someone in the same room as him. His fingers were moving but he’s not sure what typed by the time he hit send. All he knew now was the ocean of want he’d been dropped into. - Ilya’s phone chimed. Glancing down half-heartedly, he moved much quicker when he saw the name next to the message- Jane. A smirk made its way onto his face as he opened the phone, only to pause again when he was met by a two messages- 5687 Maple St. pelaes Ilya’s mouth dropped. Hollander hadn’t initiated a hook up at this point, and he’d certainly never fucked up spelling please that bad before. A mix of dread and satisfaction curled in his stomach, his alpha inexplicably pleased that Shane had texted him back so fast, with an address and an unspoken invitation to fuck him until his eyes rolled back in his pretty little head. But something was also wrong, and Ilya wasn’t one to turn down a request like this. Throwing on a hoodie and grabbing his car keys, he got in his Aston Martin and started the drive to Hollander. The whole way Hollander’s place was filled with anxious tapping- Ilya was concerned but also curious. Shane Hollander was a man with a plan for everything, living and dying by his rulebook, endearingly boring in his life. So where had all of his plans gone awry? Ilya would not delude himself into thinking this was one of Hollander’s many plans, but he wasn’t opposed to being a potential emergency option. You are safe for him, his instincts sing in his head. Pulling into the driveway felt like walking up to a portal, unsure of what state his boy would be in when he got inside. The closer Ilya got to the door he could smell the scent of a heat. A warm, salty-sweet citrus slamming into him- genuinely knocking him back a step. Was there an omega inside with Shane- is that why he’d sent his address in a clear panic? To help him? Anger replaced the previous anxiety and he pushed closer to the source of the heady scent. Holding on to the thought of Hollander with someone else kept his disgust at the forefront and everything else slipped away, no thought was given to the owner of this scent other than rage. How dare someone else touch what’s his? Ilya slammed his palm against the door twice, rattling it where it was locked into its hinges. He could hear the echo inside from where he stood, and a sort of scattered tapping- like someone was falling over their feet. Small clicks could be heard as the door unlatched, and Ilya thinks the sounds of those clicks were the opening of heaven’s gates. What was previously a nice scent in passing was now everything he could have ever wanted, pouring from the man in the doorway. Pure, sweet summer rolled off Shane’s skin and coiled around Ilya’s lungs, trapping him where he stood. Fuck, he would dose that scent if he could- lick it off of Shane’s lips and neck like good Russian vodka. It was clear that there was only one person in the house now, and it was his omega. A low growl rumbled through his chest as he eyed Hollander. His skin was shining with sweat, dripping down and disappearing beneath the towel haphazardly wrapped around his waist. The normally clear, deep brown eyes were now staring up at him, glazed over and low with want, tears sitting on his waterline that only added to the allure of his gaze. Ilya was captured by the pink tongue that darted out to wet full lips, drawing attention to their fullness, and then letting his eyes wander down Shane’s body. He looked like every dream Ilya had ever had. A small noise broke through the haze in his head - a whine. Shane was whining for him. Ilya’s eyes snapped back up to the omega’s face, finding tears now tracking down his face and a precious pout on his lips, peaking at him through wet strands of inky hair. A bright blush sat high on cheeks, pushing his freckles into the limelight and fuck he had to have this boy underneath him.” My English improves, yours does worse, da?” Shane blinked up at him adorably, pout twisting into a little frown. “What?” Ilya inched closer to where he stood, slowly moving them both further into the house. He shut the door behind him with a click. “Cannot send easy text. Spelled like you were dead.” The jest flew right over his head and he nodded dumbly,” Yeah, feels like I’m dying.” Tears were still steadily marking his face, gleaming over the perfect stars on his face and Ilya was gone. He shut the distance between them in one large stride. Grasping the omega’s delicious waist in his hands he buried his face in his neck, taking a deep breath right against Shane’s new and swollen scent gland. Loud moans sounded above him as Ilya pushed deeper into his skin, running teeth and tongue gently over irritated skin. If he never smoked again Shane’s scent could fill that addiction. His hands squeezed against his waist, leaving imprints of his fingertips in the skin as Shane’s hands made a home in his curls to pull him further in. ” Why does this happen now, Omega?” Shane’s head fell back at the word. Baring his throat in submission with a breathy gasp, Ilya (regrettably) let go of his waist to grab his chin in one hand and rest the palm of his hand against his throat with the other. “Answer. Now.” Neck pushing further into Ilya’s hold, Shane let out a hum,” Hunter-” He was cut off by the tightening of the hand at his throat, and all the rage Ilya had let go of came flooding back in, harder and heavier than before. What. “What.”

Chapter 2: hot like rising sun, burning everything he touch

Chapter Notes

my bad on the complete-but-not-complete thing i dont know what im doing also didnt mean to leave it on a cliffhanger didnt realize it was that bad wont do it again 🙏 See the end of the chapter for more notes Shane was pretty sure he went through brain death as soon as he saw- smelled Rozanov on the other side of that door. Deep and rich- sweet whisky mixing with dark chocolate to flay his mind apart, left open and panting in front of him. The alpha just looked so good, curls messy on his head and a hoodie that barely tried to hide the bulk underneath, shoulders and arms pushing against the cloth. Grey sweats on his legs signed his death warrant, shadows painting over the length of his cock. To look back at his eyes was a monumental task but the heat that met him there hit him like a shot. A small whine escaped him and his blush worsened, equal parts want and embarrassment over how weak Rozanov had him. He was looking at him like a meal after fasting. Overwhelmed tears fell, everything about the alpha in front of him pulling him deeper and deeper into his heat, so much so that the towel around his waist had to have been soaked through with slick and precum. The heady growl that he’d heard when he opened the door hadn’t helped his case either. “ My English improves, yours does worse, da?” Oh, his voice. Shane almost came at the accented tease in his words, nothing processing other than his need to feel Rozanov in his fucking bones. “What?” He mumbled up at him, focus lost to his heat- speaking of, why was Rozanov still standing outside and not inside of him yet? As if he could read his mind, Rozanov began closing the distance between them, walking Shane backwards until they were firmly inside, the door clicking behind Rozanov’s back. “ Cannot send easy text. Spelled like you were dead.” Shane could only nod distractedly,” Yeah, feels like I’m dying.” God, he needed this man like air. They were so close that their scents started to blend, smelling like hot summer nights and sin. Then Rozanov was on him, hands bruising at his waist and crowding into his space, taking over any thought that wasn’t Alpha, Alpha, Alpha. In the next breath Shane had a face full of curls and a nose pressing into his sensitive skin, drawing needy moans from his throat. It felt like Rozanov was trying to burrow into his scent gland. Their proximity left him with a mouthful of the alphas scent as well, knees locked with the effort it took to stay standing. His hand ran through the blond mess, encouraging Rozanov to get closer and closer and closer. With a squeeze to his waist, Shane felt the glancing movements of Rozanov’s lips against his neck,” Why does this happen now, Omega?” Shane could feel the way his cock jerked, hard, under the towel and tipped his head back with a loud whine. Throat bare for the taking and what he wouldn’t give for Rozanov to stop talking and just take. The hands left his waist (and hopefully marks) only to prop up against his neck and jaw. Holding him gently but forcing him to look into Rozanov’s eyes.” Answer. Now.” That breath of a command drew Shane further in, forcing himself closer to Rozanov and the hand on his neck. He breathed out,” Hunter-” Sinful nights quickly turned darker, bearing down on him in a way that could have forced his submission without help. The hand at his throat tightened. Static beginning to crowd at the edges of his mind, making him feel floaty where he stood. His lids dropped so he was looking up at Rozanov through his eyelashes. From where they were pressed together, he felt a growl tear through the alpha's chest,” What.” Shane pushed into the hand on his cheek, nuzzling closer and breathing in Rozanov’s spiking scent like a drug, unaware of the snarl carving itself onto the alpha’s cheeks,” Mhmm, Hunter-” The hand on his cheek ripped away, shocking him back to reality a little bit, while the hand on his throat shifted into an actual grip. His breathing turned shallow and he panted lightly as Rozanov leaned down into his face,” You are telling me, Hollander, that first heat was by Scott Hunter?” Gun to his head, Shane would not be able to tell you what Rozanov had just said. Everything was too much for him right now. For the first time that night he pushed back against Rozanov’s hold, breaking it to mold into his chest. He tried to tuck his face into the alpha’s neck just to be ripped backward by a harsh hand back in his hair. Oh. Shane’s mouth hung open as he abruptly came- the rough treatment easily hurling him over the edge he’d been walking. Hand still in his hair, Shane shivered when Rozanov released him to slip his grip to the nape of his neck, a slight tremble felt in his fingers. “Such a slut, Hollander. You would let anyone touch like this, hm? Would cum for them too?” The hand settling over his nape left him floaty. The alphas strong, shaky fingers almost scruffing him where he stood. Shane’s eyes were closed where he stood swaying on his feet, vaguely aware that there was a question he should answer but distracted by the cum dripping down his legs from his still hard dick. A hard squeeze to his neck shot his eyes open, Rozanov’s scent still turning harsher and heavier, hinting at a burning anger. He found the darkened blue eyes in front of him and whimpered, the hard look rocketing through his body- please his Alpha, disappointed him, have to make it better. Shane tilted forward, baring his neck - again - at the same time he brushed his lips to Rozanov’s chin, sweetly asking for forgiveness. He’d have to stand on his toes to reach his lips and balance was not on the list of things he was capable of right now. But falling to his knees? That he could do. There was a harsh smack as skin and bone landed on the hard wood floors, but it was the least noticeable of the sensations in his body at the moment. All he could feel was the saliva pooling in his mouth and how he was still fucking leaking. Guttural Russian sounded from above him, a curse or something similar he was sure. In front of him was what he wanted, Rozanov’s hard cock, straining up into the fabric of his sweats and tenting them obscenely. Shane inched forward and nosed against the growing wet spot, inhaling deeply and briefly flicking his tongue out to try and get a taste. He let his body fall forwards, hands coming up to grasp onto strong thighs as he panted into Rozanov’s groin, adding to the wet spot while he kissed at his hidden prize. Undeterred by the barrier, Shane tried to take the head into his mouth, whimpering when he could feel the shape between his lips. A hand pushed him deeper from above,” Moi idealnyi malchik, you will kill me.” He moaned out, finally detaching from the now drenched patch around Rozanov’s cock and peered up at where he stood above him to beg,” Please.” “Blyat.” Quickly, he was pushed away only for Rozanov to yank down his pants and drag him back onto his now bare dick. He moaned again in appreciation, then immediately began licking up and down the rigid length, desperately trying to get as much of Rozanov’s scent and musk as he could. There were faint sounds of groaning and heavy breathing above him but it didn’t matter- all he cared about was making his alpha happy and getting that heavy bitterness out of his scent. Rozanov was the only person he had ever done this for, likely the only person he’d ever do this for. That being said, he knew how to make it good for him. “ Come, Hollander, you can take it.” He could and he would. Shane pulled off from where he was licking at a vein under the head and kissed his tip. His eyes crossed where he was staring at this beautiful cock, all hard with beads of precum leaking at the tip, just for him. With a heady moan he dove back in, wrapping his mouth around the head but with nothing in his way he kept sliding down. Pausing briefly when he felt it hit the back of his throat, he looked up to watch Rozanov’s face. There was a harsh pinch between his brows and a small smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. He looked gorgeous and dangerous and hungry. Shane took a deep breath through his nose then pushed through, only stopping when he could bury his nose in Rozanov’s happy trail. It was Rozanov’s turn to moan now, hands petting through his hair as he held himself there, adjusting to the blockage of his throat and shallowly breathing through his nose. He was rocking gently in the waves of his heat now; Rozanov’s scent had mellowed out of the anger and his hands in his hair and cock down his throat were doing wonders for the buzzing under his skin. He moaned around the length down his throat and the calmness broke. Shane started bobbing his head, moving hard and fast, swallowing around the length every time it sank into his throat. He kept going and shifted one of his hands from a thick thigh to the hands in his hair, pressing the fingers into the back of his head in permission. “So good- fuck, taking me all the way.” Tears fell again, all nine inches of Rozanov’s cock slamming down his throat as he started to fuck his face. The harsh thrusts were definitely bruising, and that was all Shane wanted. A memory - a reminder - of their time and how he felt, small and pretty on his knees for his alpha. A growl sounded above him and suddenly he was wrenched off the alpha’s dick. Whimpering, he pulled against the hand in his hair, trying to get his mouth back to work. He wanted to feel full again- wanted to have to work to breathe and surround himself with the smell of his alpha’s want. Shane was fully crying now, small hiccupping sobs echoing through the foyer of his apartment. The hand tensed in his hair released to slide around his cheek, cupping his face in a callused hand. Rozanov’s thumb brushed along his cheekbone before slipping into his mouth to press down on his tongue, partially sating the emptiness in Shane’s throat. “ You want more, da?” Yes. Shane whined out, sucking on the thumb in his mouth like he was his cock a minute ago. Nodding his head so fast he might get whiplash, he locked eyes with his alpha and tried to speak around the digit in his mouth,” Yes- anything, please-” He was cut off by his own gasp as Rozanov bent down to pull him up by his arms, then grabbing his ass and standing” Anything, huh?”, he murmured,” Wrap your legs around me, dorogoy.” Shane tightened his thighs around Rozanov’s waist in a vice grip, holding himself as close as he could in his alpha’s arms. They started moving through the space towards Shane’s bedroom (how Rozanov remembered it after being here once, who knows), and the ease that Rozanov carried him with sweetened Shane down to nothing. He bent down to kiss at his cheek, nosing into the strong jawline and inhaling that strong scent like it was the air he needed. His head felt hollowed out, there was only room for what would be done to him once they reached his bed. - Ilya was going to lose his mind. He had been called here and met with a newly presented omega in heat at the door. An omega in heat that he dreamt about more often than he did not and wanted to hide away from anyone else who could see him. This omega who was sitting pretty in his arms and breathing in at his scent gland like he would suffocate without it. Who had dropped to his knees without a question and came when he’d pulled his hair a little too hard. The same omega who had his first heat triggered by Scott Hunter. Fuck. He could feel himself getting possessive over the mess in his hands- on his hands where he could feel how damp the towel was with slick. Shane Hollander would kill him. Teeth were nipping at his neck, light enough to not leave a mark but still stirring his alpha into a frenzy at how close it was to where they could bond. Something he wanted and clearly something Shane did not. Whatever, he would have him while he was wanted then he would leave. Once the bed was insight he let Hollander slide from his hands back to the floor, feeling up his thighs to his ass to his waist on the way down. He was just so soft- where Ilya knew the hard lines of his own body he was starving for the give in Shane’s, how his muscle was just hidden by just enough to provide a hold for Ilya’s wandering hands. The softness in his body was matched by his face- deep, brown eyes shimmering under the lowlight from tears and a plush mouth swollen from sucking his dick, freckles taunting him from his cheeks. Ilya leaned down to bite at the swell of one of those cheeks, digging his teeth in just enough to leave an indent around one of the clusters. He swore again and finally, finally, pressed their mouths together. Shane’s scent managed to thicken in the air, worming its way into his head until it felt like he was moving through molasses. What started as a nice slide of their mouths together quickly turned deep and rough, Ilya coaxing Hollander’s mouth open with his tongue. He ran his tongue over his teeth and mapped out the roof of his mouth, trying to memorize every inch of the man in front of him. Ilya bit his lower lip hard enough to bleed then sucked the wound into his mouth, drinking down the whine and pants Shane made for him. It took effort to pull away but it was worth it to see how dazed Hollander was, how his mouth was still hanging open and bloodied spit made his lips shine like he’d applied a pretty pink lip gloss. He groaned and grabbed Shane’s chin to pull his mouth open further, then leant forward and spit on his tongue. A loud gasp was pulled from Hollander but he held his mouth open, still, listening even though no words had been said. No one deserved this perfect thing. Ilya took a heavy breath and closed Shane’s mouth for him,” Swallow, lyubovnik.” And o bozhe he did. He swallowed and met his eyes with a happy little hum as if he’d been given a gift. Ilya had to grab his dick - that was still fucking wet from Shane’s throat - to hold off his orgasm. “ Oh, you will kill me. Ty prosish' chto ugodno i vosprinimayesh' eto tak legko, detka.” Hazy eyes looked up at him, slow blinks showing just how far gone Hollander was. Ilya pushed softly at his chest to get him down to the bed. Now looking down at him, all he could feel was just how much we wanted. He wanted to be the only one Hollander ever came to, or for, he wanted to be the only thing on his mind and maybe he’d be generous enough to leave room for hockey. He wanted to consume him. One time, Ilya promised himself, you can have him one time like this. Because as much as he wanted, Hollander did not. Not in the same way. Leaning down, he planted a short kiss on Hollander's lips, then moved lower. He made his way down his jaw, to the spot just below his scent gland, still swollen and releasing sweet summers into the room. With a deep inhale, Ilya kissed that spot gently before sucking down, hard. It was low enough to not trigger an accidental bond but still teased at the danger. Hollander’s hands were in his hair, pulling him closer and petting through his curls as he moaned encouragingly. He kept working the soft, tan skin between his teeth and lips, determined to leave his mark for whoever could see. After a minute, he could feel a vibration under Hollander’s skin. Giving a final kiss to the now purple splotch against previously perfect skin, Ilya raised his head to see where Hollander was now purring for him. A small little thing but still there. His face was serene, tilted back so Ilya would have more room and beautiful eyes closed, long black lashes laying straight against his cheeks. His cute little mouth was slightly open, breathing soft and shallow. Ilya was hit by a wave of need so bad he had to take a step back. Hollander’s eyes snapped open at his retreat, purr easily giving way to a whine at the distance. A shaky hand reached out for him, grasping for the hem of his hoodie to pull him closer. Ilya gently brushed the hand off, resolutely ignoring how the omega's eyes began to shine with the promise of more tears. He rucked the hoodie up over his head and stepped out of the pants pooled at his ankles,” Your turn, I want to see you.” Gesturing to the towel pooled around Hollander’s waist, he watched greedily as he slowly uncinched it at his hips, shuffling backwards on the bed until he was naked tucked into the monstrosity of pillows at the headboard. Nothing stood between Ilya and the sight of Hollander’s pretty little cock. It was hard and aching, with dried cum mixing with wet slick visible on his thighs. He looked like a feast. Ilya growled out a curse and crawled up the bed after him. He grabbed a slim ankle and pulled, dragging Hollander until he was between his braced arms, surrounded. Doe eyes broke him down and he leaned down to steal another kiss, pressing hard enough that he could feel himself forcing Hollander deeper into the mattress. He wanted to reach so far into his mouth that he could feel the imprint of his cock in the omega's throat. Ilya took every moan and gasp he was given, drinking them straight from Hollander’s mouth. The sounds of their kissing filled the room, layering on top of the mixed scents in a sinful way. He lingered a second longer at that sweet mouth then pulled away- watching hungrily as a line of spit still connected their mouths. “ You want me, da?” Hollander gave a shaky nod,” Krasivyy- on your stomach.” Hollander rolled over so fast Ilya almost caught an elbow. Once on his front, Ilya could feel when he pushed onto his knees and accidentally grinding back into his dick. A gasp sounded, and he did it again, rocking his hips in small aborted jerks and panting. Ilya let him move a little longer, watching with a lingering fondness as Hollander instinctually worked himself up. When he began to lose his little rhythm Ilya took over. Using a large hand on his nape to push him into the sheets, he looped an arm around his waist to hike up his hips, knocking his knees apart so his ass was high in the air for Ilya’s hungry eyes. - Shane was in the same position he’d been in this morning, before Rozanov’s text and his call to come over. But, now he had his strong alpha behind him, and a beautiful cock sitting between his back dimples. He could feel the alpha’s stare at his wet hole, where he could feel rivers of slick still dripping out of him, but he hadn’t done anything to ease the burn yet. Peeking over his shoulder, Shane was struck by how dark Rozanov’s eyes had become, pupils completely dilated and covering up any glimpse of blue that had been there before. He could hear the heavy breaths that matched his own and could feel the length against his back twitch the longer Rozanov looked. Letting his torso collapse into the bed, Shane slowly reached a hand back to grip the side of his ass, baring his empty hole even further. He pushed out more of his scent and shook as he watched the alpha’s control fray,” Please.” A growl pulsed through his body and he let out a brief purr that was quickly cut off by a cry when two fingers quickly entered his pliant body. Open-mouthed and panting into the bed, Shane let his eyes roll as Rozanov set a harsh cadence, pushing in every time he inhaled and punching his breath right back out. He pushed back into each thrust because it was so good but he needed more. He needed it deeper, where he would wake up tomorrow morning and feel it in his stomach- feel it drip from his fucked-out hole. Shane whined,” More, more, please! Please, I’ll be good.” “ Bozhe, I know- know you’ll be perfect malenkiy malchik for me- need to get you ready, da? Can’t have you ruined.” Oh. That was a nice thought. Get fucked so good by his alpha that no one else would come close to him, marked and claimed. The guttural Russian only fueled his need and Shane pulled his cheeks wider. “ Ready now- I promise, I promise, need yo-” The heavy body behind him left and he whimpered. Where was he going why was he leaving, bad for Alpha, come back come back come back- Before he had time to process the heat now back behind him he was being split open on those perfect nine inches. He came again, as soon as Rozanov’s hips smacked into the backs of his thighs and the hand on his nape tightened with restraint. It felt like he was pinned to the boards after a hard check and he knew that this was all he would think about next time Rozanov slammed him in a game. Shane thought he could hear a huffed laugh behind him,” Mm, so easy, Hollander.” And, yeah, he was so easy for his Alpha, would stumble his way over hot coals just to have him look his way. Shane nodded and wiggled his hips, feeling where Rozanov was still hard inside him, the small suggestion of his knot beginning to form at the base of his cock. He could feel himself clenching around the length, squeezing at every twitch.” Keep going, I can take it- knot me, please.” A loud growl ricocheted through his body,” Ty ub'yosh' menya, shlyukha. Come, deeper for me.” Large hands traveled to his shoulders and pushed, forcing his spine into a deeper arch and hiking his hips in the air. It felt like worship- the way Rozanov’s hands trailed over his spine to the dimples of his back and around to cup his ass. His rough calluses scraped over sweaty skin and left a burning path behind them. Shane whimpered as he felt cold air rush to where the alpha was gripping his ass, spreading his cheeks apart to stare at where he was split open. He felt exposed, like an ant under a microscope, every little twitch and breath categorized to strategically take him apart. Shane gasped as he felt something wet hit his rim. With a stuttered breath, he turned to peer over his shoulder and really there was no hope for him. Rozanov was staring - which he knew - but he didn’t know that he would be met by a vicious stare and a line of saliva hanging from his lips from where he’d spat on his hole. Not for the first time that night he felt like he was unmoored, just left to float adrift in the waves of his heat. The noise he let out might be considered a mewl by some, but he had enough pride left to lie to himself about it- still did the job for Rozanov, though. “I’ve got you, just lay there and take it for me, krasivyy,” Shane couldn’t do anything but that, helpless under the force of Rozanov’s hips. Every push in knocked him further up the bed, wrecking the walls of his makeshift nest. His hands kicked out, grasping uselessly at the pillows and clawing at the sheets, keening every time Rozanov hit that spot inside him, (he hadn’t missed it yet). Drool was beginning to sit heavy under his tongue, leaking out and onto the mussed towels below him.”Don’tstopdon’tstop- please- I’m so close-” His begging was met by harder and harder thrusts, the slapping of their skin would sound like a fight to people who couldn’t see them- couldn’t hear where Shane was pinned to the bed and desperately whining for more,” I need it, need you, keep going!” “I’ve got you, dorogoy. Let go for me, da?” Rozanov’s hands crept up from where they were spreading him apart and settled at his pecs, tweaking his nipples lightly. Shane’s back strained further in its arch, trying to keep his sore nipples away from cruel hands but he couldn’t escape. When he pushed away the alpha just collapsed over him, giving him no chance to get away from curious hands. With one harsh pinch, he came, loudly, onto the bed. The rhythm behind him didn’t slow. He was crying, sobs echoing out with each harsh thrust; he could feel how he was spasming around the length inside him, overstimulation clawing at the floaty feeling in his chest. Tears blinded him but he could still feel the base of the alpha’s cock growing against his rim. He needed that inside him. Now. Even with the discomfort ringing through him he pressed back, meeting every thrust and trying to lock that knot inside him. He could feel as it started to catch, moaning with the stretch when it finally fully entered him, locking him in place under his alpha. With a tired whine he dragged one of Rozanov’s hands to his face, kissing his palm and promptly passing out with his nose buried in the scent gland at the alpha’s wrist. -

Ilya stared at the side of Hollander’s face, his profile laying stark and so fucking beautiful against the sheets. His straight nose and full lips casting a pretty shadow over the bed, and his eyelashes fluttered on freckled cheeks, his boy looked like an angel. But he wasn’t his boy. Ilya would have to leave once they were able to separate. The condom he’d put on was uncomfortable against his skin but he’d manage, Hollander mattered more and he wasn’t about to risk cumming in someone he wouldn’t - couldn’t keep. Fucking Scott Hunter. Ilya sighed and pulled his hand from where it was cushioning Hollander’s face, cooing softly when his brows furrowed and lips twisted up. He looked like a little kitten. Carefully, Ilya wrapped an arm around his waist and shifted so they were laying on their sides, pressed tightly back-to-chest. He nosed at the back of the omega’s neck, taking in his scent and letting it wash through him. There was a vague bitterness that hinted at discomfort, but that wasn’t uncommon for a heat and he still smelled so good. Trust Hollander to make pain smell tantalizing. Ilya wasn’t sure how long he laid there just taking Hollander in but he wished it never had to end. When his knot went down it felt like his heart went with it, slowly dripping out of his chest. He eased away from the omega, planting a lingering kiss over a group of freckles that looked like Ursa Major. Hollander let out a bruised little whine as he pulled away, but Ilya ignored it in favor of finding his clothes. The need to leave was boiling up under his skin- right next to an anger he couldn’t place. It could’ve been at himself, at Hunter, at Hollander, at the universe for giving him a taste of a dream and then ripping it away- but Hollander felt safest right now. He could be angry with him for pulling apart their routine, for putting him in this position and then asking him to walk away. How dare he ask him to walk away from this. Ilya huffed to himself as he wandered through the empty house, set on finding food and water for them both before he left. He could be as mad as he wanted, he wouldn’t leave Hollander without feeding him- his alpha rioted at just the thought. There was a disturbing lack of real food in Hollander’s fridge, the space reserved for protein shakes and prepped meals that look dry and sad. Like styrofoam- not good for heat. Shaking his head, Ilya grabbed the carton of eggs and bacon. He scrambled the eggs in the bacon fat and put it all in a bowl, wary of spilling anything in Hollander’s perfect home. The walk back to the bedroom felt like a death march. Slowly creaking the door open, Ilya was assaulted by the acrid smell of distressed omega. Hollander was now up - maybe not alert - and curled in a ball surrounded by pillows. Where he normally looked strong he looked small, fragile, like one wrong breath could lay waste to him. There was no hiding now that his scent would give everything away, and Ilya could smell the grating mix of desperation and loss brewing under Hollander’s skin. Maybe it was for the best that he left before he had to face what had happened. Sneak out of the bedroom and the front door without speaking to Hollander, leave the food on the nightstand and vanish. He could do it- but he just looked so sad where he was prone on the bed. Fuck it. Ilya set the food down and made to reach out but was stopped by Hollander’s head whipping to face him. Pretty tears dripped down his cheeks but they didn’t herald the same satisfaction as before.”You left- I woke up and you were gone and I didn’t know where you were or if you were coming back and I couldn’t breathe because you were gone-” his breathing turned heavy and uncontrolled, tears falling faster,” You were supposed to stay. I thought you would stay.” His feet were frozen to the floor, unable to move from where he stood next to the bed, staring helplessly as Hollander broke down in front of him. Doe eyes looked back at him aimlessly, searching his face for something- anything, Ilya didn’t know. It had to be confusion from the heat, Hollander latching on to the nearest alpha he could even if it wasn’t the one he wanted. ”Hollander, you are confused. I stay and help but I leave now, you can call who you need,” his eyes widened, mouth dropping open and a sad whine worming its way into Ilya’s head,” It is okay, you will be okay and I will leave, da? I won’t tell, am not mad.” A little white lie never hurt- anger still burned at his throat. The scent the omega was releasing was horrific, deep and aching, calling out for comfort. Ilya stealed himself to turn away, ignoring the way his own alpha cried to reach for Hollander,” See you, Holl-” ”I wanted you.” - Shane couldn’t move. It felt like a ton of bricks had slammed into his shoulders, even blinking felt like a chore- he had to force his eyes closed when they started to get too itchy from staring. He felt like a husk. The walls were swaying around him and the bed wasn’t safe anymore, all he could feel was the yawning chasm he’d been thrown into. He had really thought the alpha wanted him and he felt stupid for it. It was a little silly of him to ask for more, Rozanov had made it clear he meant nothing more- was nothing more than a good fuck. But he’d fucked him so good and held him so close that now any distance felt like a world away. Not touching the alpha opened a hole in his chest that gaped further and further with every second they were separated. He could hear noises from where he was immobile, but they all sounded like they were underwater, cast through an ocean before reaching him. When the door opened he was jerked back to the surface. He could see Rozanov moving out of the corner of his eye, plate of food in hand. The alpha’s face was blank, only a crinkle in his brow showing any emotion and Shane’s mouth opened before he knew it,” You left- I woke up and you were gone and I didn’t know where you were or if you were coming back and I couldn’t breathe because you were gone-” oh god, he was babbling. He had no idea what was coming out of him but he couldn’t stop his lips from moving, vomiting out words as his panic mounted,” You were supposed to stay. I thought you would stay.” Rozanov looked stunned at the door, food forgotten on the desk. His face gave nothing away and Shane just wished the Russian wasn’t so Russian, that he would crack for once and give him anything to show that he mattered- that Shane wasn’t wasting time dreaming about lazy days together and a house with a dog. ”Hollander, you are confused. I stay and help but I leave now, you can call who you need,” Who the fuck else was he supposed to need? He whined pitifully,” It is okay, you will be okay and I will leave, da? I won’t tell, am not mad. See you, Holl-” Why was he leaving, he wasn’t supposed to leave. Shane had ruined it and he’d lost the only thing he’d ever wanted other than hockey and who did Rozanov think he could ever want that wasn’t him? It would always be him.”I wanted you.” The alpha stared down at him. Shane started shivering, the stress breaking down into a cold that had replaced the throbbing heat, icing him to nothing.” I just wanted you, why would I want anyone else? Who else would I call- I know you’ve seen the press there’s nothing,” he was choking on his tears, hopelessly trying to force understanding. It felt like his life was slipping through his fingers. “Hunter triggered your heat,” Yes? Why did that matter, he didn’t want Hunter. He stared up at Rozanov, waiting for more,” If you wanted me, it would have happened the first time we fucked. Your Omega wants Hunter.” Shane could feel his omega cry at that- all it wanted was Ilya Rozanov. “No.” “No? It is what happened, da?” “I mean yes, but I thought I was going to lose you- when it happened I thought I was going to lose you.” - Ilya had no idea what that meant,” Explain for me, please.” The please might have been extra but he had to know. A flailing sort of hope was filling the hole in his chest, even as Hollander broke apart beneath him- beautiful even through his pain. “ He said I was starting to sound like you and I thought that meant he knew about us and he was going to tell and I couldn’t lose you- even though I don’t even have you and you don’t even want me like that- but I wanted more time and he was going to take it and I couldn’t- I couldn’t-” Hollander stuttered off with a choked gasp and buried his head in his knees. Ilya could see where his shoulders were shaking and as soon as he rebooted he was going to beg for forgiveness. How could he not want Shane Hollander? It was all he thought about- when he was with Sveta or his team or back home in Russia the only thing he could think about was Hollander and the way he was so uptight but when you poked just right he would poke back and his eyes would flutter and flit around like he was scared of being seen happy and a little light would gleam in his eyes or how his lips curled just so when he was annoyed and his head would list to the side when he was tired and the long, smooth line of his neck would be exposed- Hollander was his drug of choice. But big, sad eyes were still looking at him- clearly braced for a rejection. Ilya rebooted and collapsed over Hollander, elation soaring through his veins. He smothered him, gathering him into his arms from where he was balled up and pulled him into his lap, hooking his chin over his shoulder and kissing at his cheek and neck and any bit of skin he could reach. “ Moy sladkiy malchik, you are perfect for me, da? Fighting for me, so brave, so precious- perfect, moya lyubov’. You are all I want.” Hollander’s scent bloomed again the longer he was in his arms- where he belonged. He was never letting him leave as long as his scent stayed bright and happy. Ilya breathed in deeply, washing away the rot that had sat in his lungs before. The omega squirmed in his lap, twisting so he could face the alpha,” You want me?” He had to kill himself. The hope in Hollander’s voice was deadly- he sounded so sweet and unsure and Ilya had done that.” Da- yes, dorogoy, I want you.” A loud purr burst from Hollander’s throat, meeting with the happy rumble in Ilya’s chest. He wrapped his arms around the omega’s waist and tugged him closer, nosing at his cheek,” Let me show you, da? I have time to make up for.”

Chapter End Notes

this is the playlist i made for writing them if you want to listen https://open.spotify.com/playlist/36kjbqLiAXDd63ibghYgh9 i don't speak russian moi idealnyi malchik - my perfect boy blyat - fuck dorogoy - sweetheart lyubovnik - lover o bozhe - oh god ty prosish' chto ugodno i vosprinimayesh' eto tak legko, detka - you ask for anything and take it so easily, baby krasivyy - perfect malenkiy malchik - little boy ty ub'yosh' menya, shlyukha - you'll kill me, fuck moy sladkiy malchik - my sweet boy moya lyubov - my love Please drop by the Archive and comment to let the creator know if you enjoyed their work!