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They told him getting older made mornings harder. That getting out of bed would become a chore, and that stairs would become enemy number one. Ilya didn’t buy that. Only because he’d never been a morning person in the first place. Usually woken up harshly by his husband’s alarm clock just before the sun even kissed the horizon.
He cracked his eyes open. Weirdly the room was completely covered in sunlight, the birds outside singing. And even weirder, his husband’s side of the bed was empty. Gone.
Ilya stretched, listening to his bones settle, and with a groan he rubbed the back of his head. What time was it? He grabbed his phone. 9:30am. No wonder Shane was gone, he must’ve slept through Shane’s 6:00am alarm. His husband was probably already finished with his run, showered, and already finished with breakfast. Well if you counted a ‘green smoothie’ as breakfast. Though as of late Shane had been into chia pudding, something Ilya wouldn’t admit to liking but it was one of the better healthy concoctions Shane made.
Ilya made his way to the bathroom. 35. Thirty-five. In his mind that number is huge. Especially for a man who never expected to see that number other than on the back of someone’s jersey. Especially for a teen who was so overcome with grief and hardship that the concept of another year was another hurdle to climb.
Shane, therapy, his team, his fans, his children. They all helped make those hurdles and hardships easier to manage. Still in the back of his head, were thoughts of his mother. Would she be proud? Would she be proud of the man he was today? He hoped so.
Rinsing his face off, he took a long look in the mirror. Wrinkles that didn’t exist ten years ago had cropped up around his eyes, evidence of a new found happiness and peace. Something that worried Shane when he found the same lines on his own face, but only made Ilya smile lightly.
“Papa! Papa!” He heard the hurried knocks on the door. Impatient. He thought with a shake of his head and a smile. Though he’s sure Shane gave him the go ahead to go and wake him. Ilya had slept in after all. He knew the kids had probably been up ever since Shane got out of his shower, around 7:30 or so. Maybe earlier depending on how the baby slept.
He stepped out of the bathroom, and slid on a pair of last night's sweatpants before opening the door.
“Good morning, synochek” Ilya greeted with a bright smile as he opened the door for his son.
“Happy birthday papa! You have to come downstairs!” Nikolai was already grabbing at Ilya’s hand, pulling desperately to drag his father downstairs.
“Ok, ok.” Ilya replied with a laugh, his son was the light of his life, an accident both him and Shane welcomed with loving arms. The two hadn’t been trying for kids when Nikolai came into their lives.
Now recently turned three, Nikolai was an energetic little kid. He kept both Shane and him on their toes. Ilya wouldn’t have it any other way.
When they reached the steps, Ilya lifted Nikolai in his arms, carrying his son down the stairs as the toddler went on and on about his morning. How his stuffed bear got stuck between his bed and the wall. How Anya tripped him on his walk with daddy. But she didn’t mean it papa, she gave me sorry kisses. Ilya felt a tug in his heart.
The medium sized dog wasn’t quite used to being around such a small human, and as such occasionally had accidents with Nikolai. Ilya always assured his son that Anya didn’t mean to be so excited.
As he reached the bottom of the stairs his breath caught in his throat. If his morning was good before it was great now.
How he didn’t notice the smell of bacon and eggs before was beyond him. But it wasn’t the spread of bacon, eggs, and potatoes that made the scene before him so precious.
No, it was his beautiful husband, clad in his well worn “King of the Grill” apron as he swirled the pan in front of him with a spatula. Their beautiful daughter tucked tight on his shoulder, eyes heavy with sleep, and probably milk if Ilya had to guess. That’s the scene that made him stop and take a mental photograph.
The sound of his son rambling on about his morning, the smell of a delicious breakfast, and the angelic scene of his husband and daughter. If he were dying this is the scene he’d want replayed. This exact moment.
“Papa? Papa, did you hear me? Me and daddy made you breakfast. Well mostly daddy, but I helped crack the eggs!” Nikolai seemed to pause and sniff the air. “Papa, are you sad? Why are you crying.” His pup lightly tapped at the singular tear on his cheek.
“No, Kolya, papa is very happy.” Ilya whispered, giving his son a kiss on the head. He took a small inhale, Nikolai smelled like the perfect mix of him and Shane. His own unique scent was just beginning to peak through the linen and cedar.
“Morning!” This time the greeting was from Shane, who had turned around to pour the eggs into a bowl. “I hope Niko let you sleep in a little.”
“Yes, I think you let me sleep in a little too long. I would’ve loved to help you with breakfast, moya lyubov.“
“On your birthday? No.” Shane smirked. “It’s your day, the least I can do is spoil you.”
“All you do is spoil me Shanya” Ilya replied, setting Nikolai down and placing a kiss on Shane’s lips, and then pressing a small one on Sophie’s head. Their daughter had been planned. She had just turned six months old yesterday. barely missing sharing her half birthday with her papa.
She was so much quieter than her older brother. Carrying on a schedule of feeding, pooping, and napping. Though he was sure that they already had their own inside jokes. He had recently taught his daughter the joys of blowing raspberries. Unfortunately Shane was the usual target of these spit-full attempts.
She still smelled heavily of Shane and milk, and she’d continue to until about a year, when she’d starting taking on more attributes of Ilya’s and her own unique scent. Ilya was absolutely addicted to the smell, often stealing the baby to scent and talk to.
He assumed she got her peaceful and quiet demeanor from Shane, but Yuna had assured the both of them that Shane was anything but a quiet baby. Rambling on and on about how fussy he had been.
Ilya loved his family. He was grateful for the lives Shane brought into his life. Not just his children. Yuna, David, if it weren’t for Shane he wouldn’t have any of his friends on the Centaurs. Maybe he would’ve stayed in Boston. Maybe he would’ve married Svetlana.
“I made the potatoes the way my dad does, I know how much you liked them the last time he made them.” Shane mentioned, making a plate for himself and Nikolai.
Ilya helped the toddler into his chair. He perked up at the mention of David’s potatoes. “Oh yeah? With the seasonings?”
“Yeah, I actually called him and asked what he puts on them.” Shane chuckled. “He just sorta laughed and told me whatever’s in the spice cabinet. So hopefully they taste somewhat the same.”
“Anything you cook for me is delicious, Shane.” Ilya assured, grabbing the small Moana themed plate from his husband to place in front of his son. The plate had a nice scoop of eggs, a piece of bacon, and a smaller portion of the ‘new’ potatoes. Ilya silently hoped Nikolai wouldn’t be too offended by their offer of something other than his usual breakfast. His son wasn’t picky per se, but it did take a lot of coaxing to get him to try anything new. He almost always ended up with a new “Favorite” food.
“Can you cut him some fruit while I get our plates? I think we have a few more bananas left, and maybe some strawberries in the fridge.” Shane mentioned pointing to the two bananas in their fruit bowl.
“Shane, sit, I can get the rest of it ready.” He knew the answer would be no. But what kind of alpha would Ilya be watching his omega and baby standing and working? Even on his birthday the instinctual need to provide for his mate and pups was all consuming. He even caught himself beginning to herd the other man to the kitchen table.
“Ilya, I told you, let me do this.” Shane replied, moving around the other man, only moving back to the table to place Sophie in her high chair, the baby now awake at the sight of food she couldn’t quite eat yet.
Ilya still remembers worrying anxiously when introducing Nikolai to solids. Shane had been more confident, assuring the alpha that mashed avocado was no more a danger to their son than a piece of lint.
Ilya was just as anxious at the prospect of his daughter starting solids. The baby was clearly interested in the food on her brother’s plate. Instead she was given a small, fridge chilled, teething ring which she happily gnawed on.
Ilya turned around and began cutting half of a banana, the other half was set aside. Shane would probably add it to his smoothie if he hadn’t had one after his walk.
To the small little bowl he added cut strawberries that Shane had already cut earlier in the week, and brought it to sit next to his son’s plate. As suspected: eggs demolished, no evidence of bacon, and the exact same amount of potatoes left on the plate.
“More bacon papa?” Nikolai asked, his big eyes looked up at him pleadingly. Ilya usually couldn’t help but concede. He never won when it came to those eyes, almost an exact copy of Shane’s. He loved that Nikolai was a little mini Shane. He was ecstatic when Nikolai’s little freckles had begun to show a year ago. The only evidence Ilya had any hand in his son’s creation were his soft curls. Even his daughter was looking like she would favor Shane, though her blue eyes were undeniably from him.
“What about your potatoes? You can’t try them for papa?” Ilya asked, encouraging the toddler to investigate the cubes.
He scrunched his nose—he was Shane's son for sure—and stuck his tongue out. “Blegh! I don’t like potatoes, papa.”
Ilya rolled his eyes and couldn’t help but smile. So dramatic. Maybe it wasn’t just the curls.
“You don’t like hashbrowns? Papa can start having his hashbrowns to himself now?”
“No!” Nikolai panicked, a big fan of ‘helping’ his papa finish his McDonald hashbrowns.
“Potatoes are like hashbrowns, hashbrowns are made from potatoes. They’re super yummy, Kolya” Ilya assured, picking one up and eating it. Shane had done an amazing job, they were crispy on the outside, but soft and creamy on the inside, and perfectly salty.
He didn’t even need to exaggerate the little moan that slipped out. “So yummy, your daddy did such a good job making these for papa’s birthday.”
It seemed to work, Nikolai was now looking down at his plate in a tentative interest, grabbing one with his tiny fingers and taking a tiny bite. He mimicked Ilya little Yumm, before returning to his plate with renewed interest.
Shane placed Ilya;s plate in front of him. Eggs, bacon, potatoes, and a slice of toast perfectly buttered. Shane had his own plate, in addition to the remainder of the banana Nikolai didn’t get in his bowl.
Ilya placed one of his bacon strips on Nikolai’s plate. “Help papa eat his bacon, daddy gave me too much.” Ilya lied as the toddler squealed in delight.
— — — — —
Ilya had been banned from the kitchen, the living room, and the back deck. The kitchen was an unfortunate addition, he had made the mistake of attempting to help clean up. That ended with Shane insisting he could take care of it, he would clean the dishes and the children.
“Go relax.”
Ilya thought he knew what relaxation meant. Driving a fast car, going to a bar or club, sleeping past noon. Things he quite honestly hasn’t done in awhile. Shane and him would hit a bar with the Centaurs after a game, or a team meeting. But they usually wrapped it up before it got too late. Leaving the rookies and younger members to enjoy the night.
He could hear doors opening downstairs and greetings. He assumed by Nikolai’s scream it must’ve been Yuna and David.
He was tempted to head downstairs. But he didn’t want to ruin Shane’s plans. He knew Shane worked hard on the ‘surprise.’ Despite Nikolai telling him everything the two of them were planning.
Granted he could never be sure how much of what the three year old told him was fact or fiction. “The whole world is coming!” Fiction. “I told daddy to buy every cake!” Fact, not that Shane would buy every cake, but he knew Nikolai would certainly try and convince him.
His phone finally pinged, notifying him that he could leave his prison and join everyone downstairs.
When he got to the last step, David and Yuna were waiting by the front door, enveloping him in a long tight hug.
“Happy birthday, son.” He heard one of them whisper, he was too busy focusing on not crying to distinguish who.
Yuna handed him a small card, with “Son” written neatly on one side. He’d open it later, he didn’t want to risk losing the contents during the party that was planned. He also didn’t want to start his party with more tears, and knowing Yuna and David’s habit of writing meaningful notes most likely whatever their card held would turn him into a blubbering mess.
When he entered the kitchen and the living area, it was decorated with a banner wishing him a ‘HAPPY 35TH BIRTHDAY’. Balloons and streamers. He almost couldn’t contain his laughter. Hot Wheels decorations were littered everywhere: plates, napkins, balloons. If he didn’t know any better it was his fifth birthday. The cake on the counter was the cherry on top. Brightly colored in blues, reds, and oranges. Two toy cars bordered the “Happy Birthday” writing in the middle.
“Niko helped pick out the cake. Dad made the mistake of letting him see the cake book in the store–he wouldn’t let us get anything but a ‘car cake’ for you.” Shane mentioned clearly holding in his own laughter.
Ilya smiled warmly. Of course. He had assumed the three year old had a hand on the decor. He’s sure Shane actually didn’t put up too much of a fight, based on his reaction.
Nikolai took that moment to run in from the open back door, pants already stained green from playing in the yard.
“Happy birthday, papa! Car cake!” Nikolai was addressing the cake more than he was addressing Ilya. Nikolai had recently learned that the happy birthday song usually resulted in a copious amount of sugar, cake included.
“No cake yet Niko, papa’s friends are coming, and after dinner we’ll have cake. How does that sound?” Shane offered, scooping the toddler up and ruffling his hair.
Maybe it was the fact it was his birthday. Maybe it was some morbid joke his brain wanted to play on him. But he couldn’t help but feel each moment with his family was precious. He watched as Shane and his parents messed with Nikolai, teasing and playing with the toddler just outside the back door on the deck, the toddler squealing in joy. This was his pack. His people. He wanted to bottle it up and keep it on his nightstand. He wanted to replace each and every bad memory with these.
He watched with a bittersweet ache in his chest. Did he squeal in delight with his mother? Did his father ever have the same ache he did watching his wife and children? Was it ever better? Was it ever good?
He saw Shane stand slowly and turn to him, Nikolai busy with the elder Hollanders.
“You ok?” Shane mouthed, a worried expression on his face.
Ilya rubbed the scent gland on his neck. He knew his worry was probably making itself known, Shane only picking up on it first because of their bond.
“Yes.” Ilya said and nodded as Shane walked closer. “Maybe. Probably.”
Shane looked at him with a mournful look. Ilya wishes he could keep that face away from his mate. Instead he buried his face in the crook of Shane’s neck.
He didn’t smell like the Shane he first scented in that hotel gym, what? Give or take seventeen years? Sweat, fear, medicinal. It had been so heavy he wouldn’t have picked up on an omega scent even if he had been looking for it.
But today, Shane wore his natural scent proudly. And after all these years, Shane smelled like home. A comforting hug, a warm embrace.
Lost in thought he hadn’t noticed he had been crying. Shane’s hands carding through his hair as the omega purred and murmured sweet words.
“Hey, everything ok in there?” Shane asked pulling back, tears building up in his own eyes.
“Yeah. Just. Lots of thinking.” Ilya murmured, rubbing his eyes. He was grateful that Yuna and David distracted Nikolai. The pup had a knack for smelling out Ilya’s distress. Hyperaware of both of his father’s emotions.
“I get it. I think.” Shane drew his eyebrows in. “If it’s the existential ‘I’m almost forty’ thing.” He clarified.
“Something like that.” Ilya supplied. He took one more deep inhale of his mate’s calming scent. Shaking off the early feelings the best he could and creating the best smile he could.
“Ok, Ok.” He sniffled. “No more crying, I can’t cry at my Hot Wheels birthday party.”
Shane laughed, full bodied and beautiful. “Yeah. C’mere.” Shane brought him into a quick kiss. Squeezing his arm. “I love you. I’m here when you want to talk.”
“I know. I love you too.” Ilya replied.
— — — — —
The party was a success. Everyone who they were expecting had shown up. Mates, partners, kids. Ilya had spent most of the afternoon being corralled from group to group. The Hot Wheels decor had been a major hit with the kids and adults. Especially Cliff, who made Ilya wear one of the Hot Wheels party hats with him and take a couple hundred selfies.
Beers, hamburgers, the sun. Ilya couldn’t have asked for a better birthday. Here he sat, around the fire, the sound of crickets and the rustling of the trees had lulled Sophie to sleep, curled up on Ilya’s chest, her little hands bunched in his t-shirt. Yuna had attempted to take her up over an hour ago, but Ilya had insisted that his daughter could stay as long as the party had died down enough.
He had promised Nikolai he’d make pancakes in the morning as an apology for missing bedtime. The tuckered pup was crying with exhausted tears when Yuna insisted it was his bedtime. He had argued that he wasn’t tired, but Ilya had seen him rub his eyes and yawn more than enough.
“I think it’s time I go. Harris left with the pups hours ago. Bood said he’d give me a ride.” Troy said, getting up and grabbing his empty beer bottles.
Ilya nodded, standing up to say his goodbyes, he was sure Bood, Cassie, and Troy were the last of the party goers. Bood had stayed insisting he help clean up.
“Happy birthday, Cap.” Troy offered with a smile. “Old man.”
“I am not old.” Ilya replied, scandalized. “Shane is old. He is thirty-five and thirty-six days. That is old.”
Troy huffed out a laugh. “Ok. Whatever you say, old man.” Tory began to walk a little faster, clearly abusing the fact Ilya had a sleeping pup in his arms.
“If I did not have precious cargo.” Is all Ilya replied, repositioning his daughter.
“It’s probably his old knees, not the pup.” This time the chirp was from Shane, who was leaning against the backdoor.
“Ouch, friendly fire.” Troy laughed.
All Ilya could do was shake his head. A dramatic frown on his face. “My own husband. My mate. So cruel.”
Shane rolled his eyes. “C’mon, it’s getting colder, Sophie doesn’t need to be outside. She needs to be in her crib.”
Ilya nodded, finishing his goodbyes with Troy, Cassie, and Bood, before carefully making his way up the stairs.
Shane had begun his nightly routine. Checking that Nikolai was really sleeping, before showering, and brushing his teeth.
Ilya quietly slipped into Sophie's room. Every step with her in his arms always felt so heavy. One wrong jostle or trip would wake up the small pup. She wasn’t fussy, but Ilya hated the little whines she made when she was woken up before she intended on being awake.
Laying her down in her crib, he took a moment to appreciate her tiny form. How, even in her sleep, she sought out Ilya’s hand. Papa’s girl. He grabbed the blanket in her bed, lightly scenting it before placing it back in her crib.
He took a deep breath and looked around the dark room. Photos, stuffed animals, an attempt at a ‘forest’ theme. “Goodnight, Sonechka.”
— — — — —
Shane was already in bed when Ilya walked in. His glasses on, reading with only the nightstand light on.
“I brought these up.” Shane said, putting his book down, and holding up a stack of cards.
Ilya took them before sitting on the edge of the bed. A variety of colors and hand writings. Ilya shuffled through them. He was too tired to go through them all tonight, but there was one he wanted to open now.
He looked for the one labeled “Son.” He held it in his hands for a moment, setting the others off to the side. He carefully opened the card, trying his best not to tear the envelope.
It was a white card. A dog wearing a birthday hat was on the front. “Bark Bark” In bright colorful lettering was written obnoxiously big. Both him and Shane laughed a little at the ridiculousness of it. When he opened it up, bright colorful words on the left “That means Happy Birthday in dog!!!”
Below “Happy Birthday! Love, David & Yuna!” was signed nice and neat.
On the right, was a longer paragraph. He tried reading it, but his eyes got blurry. Only able to take in the words:
“We’re so proud of you, son…”