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When Ilya stepped into the kitchen, his heart stopped.
Well, maybe that was dramatic. He was definitely still alive. But the sight in front of him was like nothing he’d ever seen before, and while he had no doubt he would see it again, hopefully many times, it would never hit him as hard as it did then.
Shane stood in front of the large bay windows, bathed in the soft glow of the early morning light. It made his skin look luminescent, all the chiselled edges of his bare chest and wide shoulders softened. He was wearing a pair of Ilya’s sweatpants, slung low on his hips, and was cradling Elena gently against his chest. Ilya could see the mess of golden curls, not so unlike his own, sprawled over Shane’s broad shoulder.
Ilya stayed half-hidden in the doorway, almost afraid to disturb the scene. Shane was pacing slowly, rocking the baby gently, and humming what sounded a lot like his old entry music from his time on the Voyageurs. It took Ilya’s breath away. His husband, and his daughter, quietly enjoying the early morning together.
His daughter. It made Ilya’s stomach do three consecutive backflips just to think about it. One day, they would have to explain to Elena what had happened, and why she was a Rozanov by blood, but not by Ilya’s blood.
But that day was many years away, Ilya was sure, and by then he hoped that she would understand that any circumstance or situation that had occurred in the past meant absolutely nothing, and that she had been their daughter from the very second they both set eyes on her. Tiny, and perfect, and screaming her little lungs out. Perfect.
“And there’s papa,” Shane muttered, still bouncing Elena gently against his chest, “Standing in the dark and staring at us like a big Russian serial killer.”
Ilya frowned, immediately stepping into the living room, hands on his hips. “You tell her lies about me. I am not serial killer, Lenochka. Your dada is much more likely to be serial killer. As you will see, he puts labels on everything.”
”The labels are useful!” Shane protested, but he still kept his scandalised voice low enough that he wouldn’t disturb Elena. “If we didn’t have those, you’d still be doing laundry with dishwasher tablets, and—“
“Is no matter,” Ilya brushed off. Even if he could keep the smile off his face, he realised he didn’t want to. “We both put aside our serial killer ways for parenthood.”
”Parenthood,” Shane agreed, nodding slightly. He looked up at Ilya through his dark lashes, absolute content sprawled across his features. Despite the sleepless nights, despite the consistent and high-level stress of the past few weeks, Ilya was almost surprised to realise that Shane was happy.
Almost surprised. Because knew, deep down, that past all of his husband’s neuroses and anxieties was a man who thrived on chaos and making plans. And again, below that, there was a man who genuinely, truly loved him. A man who wanted to start a family with him, even if it was sudden, even if they hadn’t been planning on reaching out to adoption agencies for a few years yet.
Ilya hummed, and wrapped his arms lightly around Shane and Elena, burying his nose in his husband’s neck and breathing deeply. He smelled like the sage shower gel he was obsessed with, a familiar constant throughout their years together; but now there were hints of something else. Baby powder, and formula. Ilya smiled against him.
“Thank you for taking her this morning, moya dorogoy,” He muttered, the words muffled by Shane’s skin. His husband only snorted in response, elbowing him gently in the ribs.
“Jackass. Like you’re the only one allowed quality time with our daughter,” Shane continued to rock Elena side to side, and pressed a light kiss to her curls, “Your papa is so selfish.”
”So selfish. Very, very selfish, I think,” Ilya agreed.
They fell into a comfortable silence, the three of them rocking gently together in front of the window. Ilya couldn’t help but think of all the times they’d hastily closed the blinds or curtains, or shuffled together into windowless rooms or corridors for fear of being caught. A wave of deep, unyielding gratitude washed over him, and he took another deep inhale.
He knew the next few weeks would be hard. Now that everything was settled legally— Passport, visa, citizenship, legal guardianship, and everything else that comes with moving a tiny, perfect angel from Moscow to Ottawa —It would be time to face the media.
They knew it was possible to play good hockey and have a family. Ilya had watched Hayden Pike play at least semi-decent hockey with a whole pack of wonderful, tiny Pikes. But then, he had Jackie at home, being similarly wonderful. It would be harder when they were both on the road, and definitely unfair on Elena.
Yuna and David had offered to help out, while things settled, which had made Ilya’s heart glow. Even after all those years, the love and support they offer never failed to come as a most welcome surprise. So, at least Elena would be with someone familiar, or at least as familiar to her as they were themselves.
It had left Ilya with a lot to think about. Retirement. Family. Shane. He didn’t want Shane to retire, though he could see the thought bouncing around in that beautiful, overthinking head of his from time to time. They both knew it would be untenable to have full, professional hockey careers and be in the same country as Elena, let alone in the same home.
Ilya pressed a quick kiss to the side of Shane’s jaw, and pushed away from them, padding into the kitchen to start some coffee. They were due at the rink the next day, if only for a small meeting with Weibe and some of Centaurs’ management. They’d given them both two months off, unquestioned, when Shane had asked. Ilya was too shell-shocked at the time to say anything, and he suspected that if he had been the one to ask, there may have been more questions.
Two months had passed, and Ilya wasn’t sure he was ready to leave the chaotic, familiar bubble of routine that they had fallen into. He wasn’t sure he was ready to face the real world, with its cruelty, and grief, and so much time away from Lenochka and Anya.
He splayed his palms against the cool marble of the countertop, and took a slow, steadying breath. The coffee maker beeped to life, and he could hear Shane humming something absently over his shoulder.
They would be fine. All of the surprises and problems and heartache they had survived thus far had only brought them further into the light, hadn’t it? All the suffering had been worth it in the end.
The knot in Ilya’s chest began to loosen; he felt the tension in his shoulders drop. Yes, he thought; We are good here.