Archive of Our Own

"Nieto, can you stop playing and actually do your job? My toddler can shoot better than you right now - and he's never been on the ice. Never skated. Still would be better than you right now. You gotta get it together, Nieto."

Shane sighs loudly as he skates to center ice. The rookie, Joaquin Nieto, stares at him like a deer in headlights despite having definitely played hockey for longer than the time he's spent fucking up today. Nieto is a good player and all, just a little lazy when he's not motivated by Shane shit-talking him.

Shane drags a hand down his face.

These rookies are going to kill him now if Troy doesn't kill him first. The first practice after the holidays is always the roughest for the rookies - and Troy, because Harris' family goes all the way out for Christmas.

This is the first practice of 2031 after a week-long break away to spend the holidays with loved ones and doing nothing but eating, drinking, and basking in the holiday glow. Everyone's exhausted - the rookies most of all, and Troy right after them because the Drover family celebrates Christmas for days. They may be energized and excited for the new year, especially since a Stanley Cup win is on everyone's mind, but there's still some post-holiday exhaustion looming over the entire team.

Shane is exhausted too. Unlike his rookies, he has a toddler at home and a husband who loves to go all the way out for the holidays, just to see said toddler smile. He took three naps with Lev during Christmas break, which isn’t like him at all. He hasn’t taken a nap with Lev since he was a baby.

"Yes, Coach Hollander-Rozanov!" Nieto responds, nodding his head pointedly. This is why Shane likes him - despite being a young and reckless outside the rink (Shane has received many texts from Harris about the PR nightmare that has been Nieto - nothing illegal, just stupid shit like getting caught outside a sex club), he's a good kid overall. He doesn't talk back, doesn't fight back with any other team players, and wants to listen to his coach.

Shane's only been coaching for a little over a year now. When he retired, he hadn't planned on coming back to the ice as a coach or even as a commentator. He thought his time on the ice was over. He was content to stay home with his baby and husband, watching the games and cheering for their friends with a sleepy, milk-drunk Lev on his chest.

Yet, life seemed to find a way to bring Shane back to the ice.

Wiebe had called Shane a little less than a year and a half ago to ask if he wanted an associate coaching position. Shane accepted without a second thought. Lev was eighteen months old at the time. He wasn't nursing anymore and was sleeping through the night, but he had never been without Shane for more than five hours.

It seemed impossible at first to juggle a new job and clingy toddler, but if there's one thing Shane can handle, it's the impossible. He could make it work, and he did. Ilya and Lev followed him around that first season, going from game to game and arena to arena.

The nights were long, the days longer, but being able to look over and see his husband and baby in matching Centaurs jerseys meant more to Shane than anything else in the world. Shane loves his life. It’s nearly perfect.

Now, all he needs is another baby.

Shane's mid-sentence, explaining to Nieto on his defensive slide, when Troy completely fucks up a routine, basic pass to Bood. The puck slides past the bottom of his stick and straight under his skates, sending Troy flat on his face in front of Shane, the few rookies, and other veteran players.

"Jesus Christ, Barrett!" Dykstra wheezes from the corner of the ice where he's been stretching. He practically falls over onto the ice, laughing his ass off. "Holy shit! Where is Harris? Was anyone filming that shit?! We gotta put that on Instagram!"

A few of the other players burst into a loud fit of laughter. Troy rolls his eyes and mumbles a curse as he gets back onto his feet, but Shane shakes his head and takes a deep breath in.

And suddenly, Shane's stomach rolls. He didn't eat anything this morning that would have given him any stomach problems. Actually, he barely could stomach anything this morning other than peanut butter toast. He caught some weird bug from Lev a few weeks ago, and the nausea still hasn't left.

If anything, it suddenly comes over him like a wave, crawling up from the pit of his stomach and into his throat until his throat twists.

Shane turns away from the team. He needs to get off the ice. He needs to get out - now.

"Coach?" Nieto's voice breaks the laughter, and suddenly, everyone is silent.

He skates off towards the boards, keeping his mouth covered with his elbow. He tries to make it look casual, but nothing about Shane looks casual right now. His stomach gives him one violent heave the moment he gets to the boards, and Shane bends forward and throws up.

“TROY SUCKS SO BAD! HE'S MAKING HOLLYWOOD SICK!” Wyatt yells from the goalie post as he pushes his goalie mask off.

Shane rolls his eyes at Wyatt, wiping away the leftovers of saliva from the corner of his mouth.

"It's not because of Troy," he mumbles right as bile begins to build up in his throat again. He swallows it, because he is not throwing up on the side of the rink for a second time today.

"Hollzy, you sure you're okay? You've looked like shit all week," Bood says, looking Shane up and down from behind the board.

"Yeah, you've looked bad all week, Hollzy," Dykstra agrees, hitting his stick on the board absentmindedly.

Usually, Shane wouldn't care much about Dykstra's habit. He's used to it; sometimes Dykstra hits his hockey stick on the board as if it were a fidget toy rather than a $400 piece of equipment. However, today, the vibration and the sound make Shane feel worse.

"Yeah," he coughs, holding a hand up to his mouth. Now the rink stinks, and that's making him sick. "Lev had a cold a few weeks ago. I probably caught it, because kids and germs, you know? They get sick, you get sick, it's a whole thing."

Dykstra and Bood exchange a glance. Evan makes a so-so hand signal, frown prominent across his face, and Bood shakes his head as a silent response.

"Something you guys want to share?" Shane huffs, leaning on the board. He decides to ignore the mess behind the wall for now and makes a mental note to apologize profusely to the janitor later. For the moment, he focuses on swallowing the bitter bile that keeps rising in his throat.

"Nothing," Dykstra says, shaking his head. "I didn't say anything."

Shane shoots him a glare. Dykstra knows, without Shane having to say anything, that he sees right through him. They played together for years, and after two years of being the associate coach, Shane knows him better than Evan thinks he does.

"I didn't say anything," Dykstra repeats, shaking his head.

Bood nods in response. Shane frowns at them both. He knows what they're thinking, knows what everyone staring at him is thinking, because why else would Shane be throwing up in the morning?

"Get back to your drills," Shane scoffs before swallowing the saliva that's started building in his throat now. What the fuck is wrong with him?

A few of the players mumble as they skate off, back to their positions and back to their jobs. Shane knows what they're all thinking. It's not every day that an omega throws up randomly at the rink. Most of the players are parents too, so they know the sign of a pregnant omega almost as well as Shane does.

The only problem is, Shane knows he's not pregnant.

Sure, they've been trying for a second child for six months now, but nothing has happened. Shane got pregnant on the first try with Lev; only one heat, and a month later, he saw those two pink lines. It feels like a fluke now, though. Not even a false positive test to get their hopes up or an answer from doctors as to why it's taking so much longer to have a baby this time.

When he saw the first negative test four and a half months ago, Ilya held him in their bathroom, pressing kisses to the top of Shane's head as he sobbed loudly. It felt ridiculous to cry over something as trivial as not being pregnant, but fuck, Shane wanted it so badly. He wanted another baby so badly. 

His doctor said they shouldn't discuss fertility treatment until nine months of trying. "It may take a few more months," she told him when he went to an appointment before his heat in December.

Supplements, tracking his ovulation, and even keeping his legs up after a quick round of morning sex- trying wasn't fun anymore. It was work, another job he had to do every day, just to have another baby. It was so easy the first time; why wasn't it easy this time too? What was he doing wrong?

He's not pregnant. His heat isn't until next month and the test last month came back as negative. The test he took a week and a half ago came back as negative too. Every test has been negative.

So, there's no way Shane is pregnant.

But still… if he is pregnant… if he could be pregnant after all this time...

Shane bites his tongue, fighting through the sudden urge to vomit again.

He thinks about it for a second as he watches the rest of the team continue their drills. He's been throwing up a lot lately, not only today. His breasts started feeling tender. He's been more exhausted lately, but he chalked that up to the holidays.

However, he took three naps with Lev during the holiday break, and Shane never takes a nap. Well, he didn't start napping until he got pregnant with Lev, and he was tired all the time…

"Shit"

"You say something, Shane?" Troy asks, raising an eyebrow at him. Shane hadn't noticed that Troy was beside him now; he was certain he was still on the other side of the rink.

"I'm okay," Shane lies, fighting the urge to throw up again. Was this ever going to end? This was just like when he was pregnant with Lev.

Just like…

"You smell different," Troy blurts out, wrinkling his nose slightly. He frowns, looking Shane up and down as if he's expecting to notice something different about his coach, but nothing outwardly has changed about him. "Do you know that? That you smell different?"

Shane closes his mouth. He hadn't noticed it. Fuck - Ilya hadn't noticed it either. They had spent the last few weeks so busy with Lev and the holidays that neither of them had noticed if there was a sudden change in his scent.

He can barely smell himself whenever he was at the rink due to how many scents flood his nose, but he can smell himself now - the sweet, soft, vanilla subnote and his usual amber scent. A hint of lavender.

And most importantly, milk.

It's subtle, but when Shane focuses hard enough, he can smell it. The milky scent.

Shane didn't notice. Fuck, Ilya didn't notice yet that Shane's scent had turned milky and sweet. Omegas usually had some milky undertones to their scent after having children, even decades after their child was born, but this isn't the milky undertone that Shane's become accustomed to for almost three years. The last time Shane's scent was this milky was right after he had Lev…

"I've always smelt like this. Get your nose checked, Barrett." Shane grumbles, keeping his eyes on the wall, not his rookies. Troy cannot be the first person to know he's pregnant before he can even take a test to find out himself.

For all Shane knows, he isn't pregnant. He went down the rabbit hole of phantom pregnancies a few months ago. Some omegas smell milky when they're experiencing a phantom pregnancy. It's rare, and Shane's pretty sure his body and mind know he's not pregnant.

"No," Troy hums, eyeing Shane. "You haven't."

God damn it, Troy.

Shane shoots Troy a side-eye. Troy gets what the look means - he doesn't need to be told to get the hell away from him before he skates off to work back on his passing drills with another player. Shane huffs as he watches him leave, ignoring the burning sensation moving from the pit of his stomach to his throat again.

Pregnant.

Yeah, right. Shane huffs and skates away, pretending as though nothing is wrong with him.

Practice lasts only an hour longer. For the remainder of the hour, Shane barely speaks. He focuses on swallowing the bitter bile that continues to rise the entire time. A few times, he even has to.

He storms through, taking his skates off the fastest he's ever done and throwing them in his skate bag, ignoring Wyatt as he asks Shane whether they should go work out in the gym now. He doesn't care what they do for once; Wyatt could force the entire team to act out the fight scene from Captain America: Civil War for all Shane cares.

He throws his overcoat on, quickly typing up a text to Wiebe about how he's calling it an early day since he's not feeling his best. It's not entirely a lie. He doesn't feel like complete shit, but his throat is still burning.

Shoppers is only about a five-minute drive from the rink, tucked beside a furniture store. He's been here before a few times - mostly for Lev, a couple of times because Ilya needed Benadryl. He wonders if he should go to a pharmacy closer to home, even though it's stupid to have that idea. All the tests will be the same, so it shouldn't matter if he buys one here or from the pharmacy twenty miles away.

Shane grabs the first test he sees, not realizing until he's checking out that it's the same brand he took when he found out he was pregnant with Lev, and a bottle of water. The teenage cashier doesn't seem to recognize him, which is good, but it still feels like it takes an hour to check out. Shane has to tap his card twice before the payment goes through and mumbles a quick 'thank you' as he rushes out before anyone else has a chance to see him.

When he gets back to the training facility, Shane sneaks into one of the office bathrooms. He counts himself lucky that no one uses this particular bathroom on training days. The team prefers to use the bathroom in the locker rooms or near the gym, and most of the staff is either working from home or on holiday break right now. The chance of someone walking in while he takes the test is next to none, but he still wants to make sure no one comes in.

Shane knows he should probably take it at home, but he can't handle seeing Ilya's disappointed smile again. He loves his husband, but he knows all the negative tests have been killing him too. Every month, like clockwork, he's had to watch Ilya's hopeful smile drop to a disappointed frown as another month goes by without a baby.

Even if Shane doesn't tell him, Ilya will know. Another month without a positive test means another month they need to continue trying. Another month of trying means one more month where Shane wonders if something is wrong with him.

Shane quickly pees on the test, having done this many times already; he's already accustomed to the best way to do it. He sighs as he leans back on the toilet.

It'll probably be negative, just like every single test has been since they started trying. Shane doesn't want to get his hopes up. What's the point in thinking he'll see something different this time? He probably just has the flu or that cold from Lev. Lev can't close his mouth when he sneezes anyway.

Shane bites the inside of his cheek and desperately tries to ignore the ache in his chest.

Oh, how badly he wants those two pink lines, more than he's ever wanted anything else in this world. He's wanted this for months now, and if this test doesn't turn positive, he's not sure what he'll do.

Probably cry. Again. Like he did last week and last month, and every month since they started trying.

He closes his eyes, counting in his head so that he doesn't have to use a timer in case someone enters the bathroom. It's unlikely, but it could happen. It's not like this is Shane's private bathroom at home, and even then, he has a dog and a toddler who definitely would have followed him into the bathroom.

He loses track of the time somewhere between a minute and three minutes, because when he opens his eyes, he's greeted with the best thing he's ever seen.

Double pink lines.

He blinks, certain that his eyes are playing a trick on him or he accidentally bought a joint text. He waits for the second line to fade, because in his brain, that's the only logical sense after six months of nothing, but it doesn't fade. If anything, the second, pink line gets darker the longer he stares at it.

Shane takes a shaky breath in and presses a hand to his open mouth to keep quiet, even though he's completely alone in the bathroom. A single tear rolls down from his dark brown eyes to his cheek as his shoulders shudder.

He sits there a while longer than he probably should, staring at the positive pregnancy. Two lines. Two vibrant pink lines. It's not a trick. He doesn't need to pinch himself to make sure he's not dreaming. It's real.

They're having another baby.

He smiles - grinning like a fool as he stares at the double pink lines. His heart feels so heavy, and his body feels light at the same time, like he's both floating and weighted down to the ground.

He wraps the pregnancy test in a handful of paper towels when he goes to wash his hands. Rummaging through his workout bag, Shane pulls out an empty ziplock bag leftover from the last time he brought Lev to practice to watch his favorite players skate and stuffs the pregnancy test inside. Hey, he's a parent. He has to bring a random empty ziplock bag everywhere he goes in case of trash or Lev finds some random rock he wants to bring home. Wouldn't be the first time he tried to bring something from the ground home. Shane stuffs the ziplock bag into his coat pocket before washing his hands thoroughly.

Shane doesn't notice it, but he's smiling the entire drive home.

He imagines Ilya crying out of joy or picking him up and kissing him until all the air is out of both of their lungs. He thinks of all the ways he could tell Ilya that they do have another baby on the way.

Maybe he can put Lev in a 'big brother shirt' when Ilya takes Anya to her vet checkup? No, wait, her appointment is in two weeks, and Shane can't wait that long. Maybe a 'world's best papa' mug… Ilya has about four of those. Two that Shane bought, one that David got Ilya on his first Father's Day, and the fourth was a gift from Wyatt a few months back.

Shane wants Ilya at the first ultrasound, so there goes any idea to surprise him with the ultrasound picture.

Most of their conversations revolved around having another child now. It really has taken over their lives, but what can Shane say? They had been excited about their future child. All the negative pregnancy tests that lined up on their bathroom counter are in the past now. All that matters now is the positive test in his pocket and the baby growing in his belly.

He catches his own reflection in the rearview mirror - lovesick and giddy, a grin spread wide across his face.

When Shane pulls into the driveway, the garage door is open. Ilya's car is running, and the diaper bag is strung on one of the alphas' shoulders as he's putting their toddler in his car seat. Shane just nearly missed them. Shane can't help but think about how much he looks like a dad - and how sexy he's going to look with another one on his hip.

"Hey, what are you two handsome boys doing?" Shane asks as he rolls down the window of his SUV, bringing the car to a stop.

"Well, look at that," he teases, winking at his husband as he clips Lev into his car seat. "We were about to have very fun Papa and Lev time at the park, but I guess you can come along."

"Rude." Shane jumps out of the car, quickly locking it with his key before stuffing the key ring into his pocket, right beside the ziplock baggie tucked safely inside. The plastic crinkles faintly, and his heart beats a little faster as he remembers the little secret he's hiding from his husband and their pup.

"Daddy!" Lev chirps from the backseat. He lifts his arms towards Shane when he pops up beside Ilya, grinning from ear to ear. A single toy truck in the cup holder of his car seat, as Lev's newest obsession was bringing his cars everywhere he went. There were a few times Shane found a fire truck or a random sports car in his backpack. "We goin' to park!"

He looks so much like Ilya when he smiles. The same blond curls, the same sweet and big smile, and even the same way he laughs. Shane loves it. He fights the urge to rest his hand on his still-flat stomach, but he thinks about whether this baby will have the same smile too.

He hopes so.

"I heard, baby," Shane softly says. He kisses the top of Lev's head, eliciting a giggle from the toddler as he rapidly kicks his legs back and forth. Out of habit, Shane presses his wrist to Lev's cheek and scents his baby.

Lev giggles as he leans into Shane's wrist, pressing his little cheek into the inside of his wrist to scent himself even more. "I gonna go down the big slide!" He exclaims.

"You are?"

For the last couple of months, every time they go to the park, Lev asks if he can go down the 'big slide'. It's not actually that big; it's just at the top of the play set, but to a two-year-old, it is big. Lev tried to go down it the last couple of times that they've gone to the playground, and each time, he's become a puddle of tears, and Ilya or Shane have had to rescue him.

Lev nods in response. Shane brushes a hand across his baby's face, smiling as he thinks about how lucky he is that he gets to do this all over again.

"Such a brave boy," Shane praises his son, kissing the top of his curly blond head gently. Lev giggles once more. How about Daddy joins you and Papa?"

"No work?"

"No, practice is done." Although he probably should review some footage from their game before the Christmas break, Shane doesn't want to. "I'm all free all day, baby."

Shane presses one more kiss to Lev's forehead before shutting the car door. He turns around to Ilya, noticing that he's been watching him intensely from behind. There's a small grin on his face, arms crossed across his chest, as if he knows the secret Shane has in his pocket.

"What?" Shane asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing," Ilya smiles, tilting his head slightly. He looks at Shane, studying him, as though something might have changed since he kissed him goodbye in the same garage a few hours earlier. "You look very happy, moy lyubimy."

"I am, baby," Shane smirks back, unable to hide his excitement now. He leans in to press a quick and soft kiss to his husband's lips. "I love you very much, you know that, right?"

Ilya presses his lips together in thought. "I love you too, lubimiy," he says, humming quietly to himself. He presses a second, quick kiss to Shane's lips, resting a hand on the small of his back. As Ilya pulls away, he wrinkles his nose. "You smell very nice."

"Do I? That's weird." Shane laughs, which elicits a confused reaction from Ilya. Shane realizes that his husband must have the start of a stuffy nose, probably a late Christmas gift from Lev or his parents. Explains why Ilya hasn't noticed the milky scent like Troy had. He pats Ilya's ass once. "We should probably go though, shouldn't we?"

The drive to the park is short, but Shane can't stop smiling. He realizes, after looking at himself in the passenger mirror, that he hasn't stopped smiling since the two pink lines appeared on the test. Time has escaped him for how long it's been. Maybe half an hour, maybe an hour. All he knows is that he's the happiest he's been in months.

Ilya seems to notice it too. He keeps looking over at Shane whenever the car comes to a stop, taking a second to look at him.

But he doesn't say anything to Shane. He doesn't ask what the smile is about or why he could be so happy.

Lev narrates the entire way, letting Shane and Ilya know what color car they passed was. He swears the black sedan they pass is his Nana's, even though Yuna drives a white Bentley. Shane twists around at one point when Lev begins to talk about a dog he saw on the television that morning.

He thinks about when they brought Lev home from the hospital. He looked so small in the car seat, despite being 10 pounds and a full chunk when he was a newborn. Shane spent that entire drive home sitting beside their newborn, watching his chest rise as he breathed in and out until he finally fell asleep exactly 93 seconds away from their driveway.

Soon, there'll be a second car seat in the back of the car, right beside Lev's. Another pair of hands reaching out. Another little voice yapping about everything their little mind can think of.

There's nobody else at the park when the family walks in. Lev's standing between them, holding both Shane and Ilya's large hands in his little hand, swinging their hands back and forth as he hums a Russian song Ilya sings to him every night.

January is always cold in Ottawa. Today is a little warmer than usual, but there are still no children at the park. The snow crunches under the family of three's boots. Lev thinks it's the funniest thing ever. He giggles at every crunch, especially when Shane takes an exaggerated step. It doesn't take too long for Lev's little toddler brain to have the sudden urge to run, dropping his hand from Shane and Ilya's grasp.

"Lyovushka, do not run!" Ilya frantically calls after their toddler. "You may fall and get hurt! Then, Papa will be very sad!"

Shane chuckles softly, pulling his beanie over his ears. It's pretty cold outside, but he doesn't mind much. The cold air feels nice on his skin, especially after what he now realizes is morning sickness. He doesn't miss that part of pregnancy.

"He's fine, baby," Shane says calmly as he replaces Lev's hand with Ilya's. "He's not going to fall or anything."

As if on cue, Lev trips face-first into a small pile of snow. Shane snorts as his son lies there, looking like a giant star in his yellow puffer jacket. Lev's fine; Shane knows he is. But Ilya, on the other hand…

"Lyovushka!" Ilya calls, picking up his pace to rush to where his son had tripped. "Lyovushka, are you okay, solnyshko? Papa is coming to kiss away your boo-boos, my sweet angel!"

"I otay, Papa!" Lev calls back as he pops his head up. He grins at them both before jumping up and rushing to the swings.

One thing about Lev is that he can easily play by himself, even when he's barely three.

Shane touches the plastic baggie in his coat pocket, grounding himself as he watches Lev climb up to the slide. It's crazy for him to think that by this time next year, there should be a baby strapped to either his or Ilya's chest. Hopefully sleeping, maybe awake and cooing at them as the three of them watch Lev run around the playground.

He imagines Lev already being the best big brother. Cuddling the baby, talking to his bump when he finally starts showing, and being the best brother their youngest will look up to. Lev's so loving, so affectionate, that Shane knows he would love on his baby brother or sister the day they bring the baby home.

Shane's never had a sibling. The closest he's gotten to having brothers is Hayden and J.J., and that's only because their rookie years were spent together. It's different than having a sibling that you've spent your entire life knowing.

Shane wonders sometimes about Ilya's own brother. Not that he wants to reach out to the man; Shane never wants to meet, or even hear, about the man. But sometimes, especially since they started trying for a second child, Shane wonders what it was like to have a brother. Ilya rarely speaks of his childhood in Russia, rarely mentions his brother nowadays. But the occasional glimpses into his husband's childhood provided enough to show that the brotherly bond was far from the idealized version Shane would daydream about when he was seven and lonely.

Whoever this baby is will get a brother much better than Ilya's. They'll get Lev. Shane can't think of anyone who will be a better big brother than Lev.

"Papa! Lookie me!" Lev shouts from the top of the open slide, readying himself to go down it.

"Papa sees!" Ilya smiles, bright and proud of his boy. "Wow - you went down the slide so well, malysh! You are so amazing. Show Papa again! Papa wants to see you go down again!"

Shane decides that he doesn't want to wait to tell him until after they get home now.

"I got you something." Shane smiles. He pulls the plastic baggie from his coat pocket and hands it to his husband. Shane can barely hide his excitement. He's grinning like a fool, and the red flush on his cheeks isn't from the cold air.

Ilya looks at the bag for a moment, just a moment, in total confusion. He raises an eyebrow as he flips the baggie over. The pregnancy test is still under the paper towels, perfectly waiting for him to unwrap it for a surprise.

"Shane Hollander," Ilya's voice deepens as he stares at it, "did you bring fucking drugs to a playground?"

"What the fuck - no!" Shane snatches the ziplock baggie from Ilya's hand. "This is not drugs!"

"Looks like drugs," Ilya hums, side-eyeing Shane as he goes back to watching Lev happily slides down. "Bringing drugs to the playground. How could you Shane? How will I explain to our baby that you are in jail for drugs? Who will watch our baby? David? David has work; he is very busy man. It would be rude to make him and your mother raise Lev while we are in jail for drugs."

"We won't be in jail, because this isn't drugs!" Shane rolls his eyes and pushes the ziplock bag back into his husband's hands.

"It look like drugs."

"Well, it's not! Look in the baggie!"

Ilya scoffs and shakes his head. He lets out a "tsk" sound at his husband, mocking him. "Fine, fine. I will look. But if this is drugs, Shane, I am calling David right now. I will need alibi."

Shane rolls his eyes for the second time. This time, they go back so far he might as well just get stuck in the back of his head. "Just open the damn bag, you doofus."

"This is very suspicious," Ilya comments as he pulls the wad of paper towels out, but doesn't take the item out of the paper towels. "Very amateur. If you are going to commit crimes, get a proper bag. Little ziploc bag like this; they will make fun of you in prison."

"Ilya." Shane wants to grab his husband and shake him by the shoulder, but he stops himself.

"I am just saying. Presentation matters." He mumbles, clearly enjoying himself with a shit-eating grin. "Lev, look, your daddy is about to go to jail -"

"Don't say that out loud!" Shane hisses. Wait a second - why the fuck does he care so much suddenly? It is not drugs!

"And Papa will have to raise you all alone. Papa will never cut the crusts off your sandwich the way you like. You will grow up wondering, 'oh, why couldn't my Daddy be here? Why did he go to prison for putting drugs in a stupidly large ziplock bag?' and Papa will say it is your father's fault."

"Ilya, shut up!"

"'Ilya, shut up.' That is how you sound. Silly Shane," Ilya laughs to himself, finally unwrapping the paper towels that surround the test. Shane can hardly contain his excitement; he's just smiling like a fool, in a nearly freezing park. He must look ridiculous, maybe even crazy.

Doesn't matter though. Shane feels like the world is just him, Ilya, and their two children.

When Ilya unwraps the paper towels, his face drops suddenly. He looks up at Shane,

"What is this?" He asks, his voice as soft as a whisper. "Shane, what is this?"

"Ilya, I'm pregnant." Shane's voice cracks on the word 'pregnant'. It's the first time he's said it out loud since the test came back positive. His chest feels like it's about to burst open.

Once the sentence escapes Shane's lips, Ilya's breathing stops for a moment. Ilya stares at him in disbelief, as if Shane just told him he had three heads and was part mermaid. It's been months of trying, months of waiting, and months of Ilya wondering if there was something wrong with him. Not Shane, but him. Because what other reason could there be that he couldn't give his husband another baby?

"You are pregnant?" Ilya repeats, tilting his head to the side, almost as if the test in his hands is not enough proof.

Shane takes the pregnancy test from his husband and holds the two pink lines up, right in front of Ilya's eyes. Ilya looks between the test and his mate, as if his eyes are playing a trick on him. But each time he looks away from Shane's slowly growing smile, the pink lines seem to get darker.

"You are pregnant!" Ilya exclaims, staring at Shane with wide eyes. He looks like he's about to cry, but Russians don't cry. At least, they don't cry in public.

"I am pregnant!" Shane joyfully laughs, resting two hands on his husband's shoulders. "I'm pregnant, Ilya!"

Ilya can't believe it. He wraps his arms around Shane tightly, pulling him into a hug. He kisses his neck, then the side of his face, over and over again until Shane's nothing but a laughing mess in his arms.

Six months. Six months of trying, of wondering what they were doing wrong, of wishing to make Lev a big brother, and now it's happening. They're having another baby - another perfect, beautiful, wonderful child.

Just like Lev.

"I fucking love you," the alpha whispers into his omega's neck. He gently kisses his neck, making Shane let out a loud sigh as he melts into his touch. Ilya tries to hold back tears, but he can't. He silently cries into Shane's shoulder, ignoring the little voice in his head that tells him to keep it all inside. How could he not? Shane's giving the best gift for the second time.

"I fucking love you too, baby," Shane whispers back. He pulls back from Ilya's grasp and cups his husband's face with tender, loving hands. Who cares if they're in public right now? No one else is around

Everything from the last few hours hit Shane right there at the park. His eyes start to water as he stares into Ilya's tear-filled eyes, watching in adoration as Ilya's eyes twinkle in the winter sunlight.

One more baby to love. One more person who is half him, half Ilya, and fully loved by them and their family.

Their family is finally complete. Two kids - just like they always talked about. Two perfect, beautiful, happy children who Shane wants nothing more than to give the world to.

He presses a kiss to Ilya's lips tenderly, lovingly, basking in the warmth and his husband's scent. Ilya strokes a finger along Shane's cheek, all the way to his chin, keeping his face steady as they gently kiss in the nearly empty playground. They probably look like fools - they definitely look like fools. But what do either of them care?

They break apart after a few quiet moments, still grinning at each other like idiots. Both Shane's and Ilya's cheeks are wet and cold, but neither of them cares. The world doesn't exist outside of their little bubble anymore.

Ilya looks down at Shane's stomach that's covered by his jacket, staring at it in wonder as if a bump will magically appear any second now. Gently, he presses a hand to his husband's stomach, spreading his hand over the flat stomach. He waits patiently, as if he's waiting for a kick or some slow movement, or even a baby's body to slightly press against his stomach, but nothing happens.

Still too early. Just a little too early to feel anything, but not too early to love with both their whole hearts.

"Hello," Ilya whispers breathlessly. "I love you too. So much already."

Shane's eyes start to water as he tries not to cry too.

He loves his family. He loves his mate, his alpha, his husband who has given him this wonderful, perfect, domestic life. A part of him can't believe this is his life, but it is. God, it is.

The parents turn back to look at Lev, watching as he walks all the way up to the top of the play area. Shane's breath turns shaky as he watches his son, his little baby who isn't so little or a baby anymore, look like a big kid. It hits him as a reminder that he'll be three next month.

Time surely has moved fast.

"You ready to do it all over again from the beginning?" Shane asks with a grin, leaning into Ilya's touch. "Late nights, diaper changes, and all that spit-up on your clothes?"

"I am ready," Ilya whispers, resting a hand on Shane's shoulder. He's ready for it all - for all the sleepless nights and all the diaper changes. For all the mornings that he spends twenty minutes on the floor with a baby, trying to coax them to enjoy tummy time, and for all the mid-afternoon tussles with Anya to get a pacifier or baby sock out of her mouth.

"Even if this new baby only wants to have contact naps like Lev did?"

"I love contact naps," Ilya hums softly, reminiscing about the newborn Lev days. He rubs his wrist against Shane's overcoat absentmindedly and scents his husband.

His favorite part of the day was always when a milk-drunk Lev fell asleep on his chest. And now he gets to have that again? How lucky is Ilya that he gets to love another person who is half Shane, half him, all over again.

God - he hopes this baby gets Shane's pretty eyes, as Lev had inherited. Is that too soon to ask for? Shane's pretty eyes, beautiful freckles, and his intelligence. Okay, so Ilya wants a mini version of his husband this time around. It's only fair since Lev takes after him so much.

Shane chuckles fondly. "Me too." He whispers, leaning into Ilya's chest. He closes his eyes, breathing in Ilya's comforting scent. "Me too, baby."

They stand there for the next ten minutes, watching Lev play without a care in the world. His laughter echoes in the empty park. Every so often, Shane can hear Ilya sniff a few times. Each time, he just presses his body closer to Ilya's, scenting him with that milky, vanilla scent they both are so grateful for.

Shane watches as Lev babbles something from the top of the playground; his little fists in the air like he just scored the winning goal for the Stanley Cup. He looks so big up there, so different than the toddler he was in the car yapping away, but still their baby.

Lev doesn't hesitate and finally goes down the 'big slide' all by himself. Ilya and Shane loudly applaud him, cheering him on as he slowly moves down the slide, because hey, they're the only ones at this park. They aren't bothering anyone.

Lev comes barreling across the playground, freckled cheeks flushed pink from the cold and from running around. His blonde curls stick out from under his hat and bounce as he runs. He crashes into Ilya's legs, his arms wrapping around both his papa's knees, and a joyful screech escapes his throat.

"Papa! Papa!" He says, staring up at Ilya with the same grin. "I go down the big slide all by myself!"

"By yourself, malysh? You are such a brave boy; Papa and Mama are so proud." Ilya scoops Lev up into his arms and presses several rapid kisses to his toddler's chubby cheeks. Lev bursts into a fit of giggles, tugging on Ilya's beard.

Lev's happy giggles soon stop as his little fingers touch Ilya's tear-stained cheeks. He pulls away, slightly concerned, and presses a hand to Ilya's face. "Papa cryin'. Papa otay?" Lev asks solemnly.

"Papa is very happy, Lyovushka," Ilya smiles, wiping a tear from his glistening blue eyes. "Papa is very, very happy."

Lev tilts his head, confused. "Why?" He asks another question, then turns Shane for an answer. "Why Papa cryin'?"

"Because Papa is very happy, baby." Shane can't help but smile too. He looks at Ilya, full of nothing but adoration for his husband, for the little, peaceful life they've created together. He still can't believe they're having another baby. "And sometimes, when Papa is happy, he cries."

"Oh." The toddler says, nodding his head as he understands. He then turns back to Ilya, grabbing a hold of Ilya's jacket. "Why Papa happy?"

"Because you and your daddy are two of the best people to enter my life, Lyovushka. Papa loves you very much. You made Papa's entire life." Ilya whispers, pressing a soft kiss to his baby boy's head. "You are the best part of us together, Lyovushka. I am so lucky to be your Papa."

And so will your sibling.

Shane rests a hand on Ilya's waist and sets his head on the crook of Ilya's neck, right above his own bond mark. His fingers trace the faded scars of his teeth marks on Ilya's skin, but only for a moment.

"How about getting some hot chocolate on the way home, Lev?" He asks, already craving something warm and sweet. Blame the baby; it's the baby. He sets his other hand on Lev's back, rubbing his son's back in small circles, just like how Lev has liked since the day he first entered the world.

Lev considers the question for approximately twenty seconds before nodding. "Otay. Ha' choco now?"

"Da, hot choco now," Ilya agrees as Shane laughs, wiping his own eyes with the back of his wrist.

Five days later, Shane's flat on his back, shirt shoved up above his belly button as he waits for the doctor to start the appointment.

Lev's with Yuna for the afternoon. Shane had to be a little sly to get his mother to watch Lev for the afternoon since they weren't ready to tell her or his father yet. They decided to wait until the ultrasound before they told them - and Lev.

They both knew if they told Lev before the ultrasound, that the first thing he would say to Yuna that morning would be 'Daddy has a baby in his belly'. That wasn't how Shane wanted to announce to his mother that he was pregnant, so they decided to tell Lev after the appointment; then, they would tell Yuna and David when they're out of the first trimester.

"Well, Shane, you are definitely pregnant." Dr. Collins, his OBGYN, chuckles as she reviews his chart. "The pregnancy test did come back as positive, so congratulations, you two. I know you must be excited."

"We're more than excited," Shane grins, turning to look at Ilya. The room smells sweet, like other pregnant omegas and their partners, but it's not overwhelming. If anything, it's comforting to both of them.

It feels a little bittersweet to Shane. He's already decided that this will (probably) be their last baby. The last time that Shane and Ilya get to experience seeing their baby for the first time. After this baby, they'll be done, unless Shane decides three kids is the right number between sleepless nights and the mountain of diapers.

Dr. Collins squirts a little bit of gel onto Shane's stomach, where a small bump was already growing. He's chalked that little bump up to either being bloated or his second pregnancy. His brow furrows slightly from the sudden chill, having completely forgotten how cold the gel is at first. He'll have to get used to it again, although he never really did during his first pregnancy.

"Are you two ready to see your baby?" Dr Collins asks as she turns on the ultrasound machine.

Both men nod their heads enthusiastically. It's all they've been talking about for the last five days. All they've been able to think about. Even when Shane was throwing up this morning, his head in the toilet as Ilya rubbed his back in soothing circles, all he could think was that they get to meet their newest bundle of joy today.

Dr. Collins presses the ultrasound wand to Shane's stomach, and for a moment, everything is still. Shane and Ilya watch with bated breath as the screen flickers on and the unmistakable shape of their unborn child appears.

"There's your baby…" Dr. Collins begins, pointing to the small flickering shape that Shane knows very well. "Right there." She flips on the audio for the ultrasound machine, and the room is filled with the beautiful sound of their baby's steady, sturdy, and loud heartbeat. "And it looks like you're measuring at seven weeks currently."

Finally seeing the baby that's been giving him terrible morning sickness, Shane's breath hitches. He's thought it so many times since that positive pregnancy test that there's no way this is all real, but it is. It really is. His heart feels so full that Shane fights the urge to curl into a ball and sob.

"Our baby…" Shane whispers, watching their baby on the screen. "That's our baby."

Ilya's hand finds his, and he presses a kiss to his knuckles gently. He presses his forehead to Shane's hand before he kisses it a second time.

"I love you," the alpha whispers as he looks up to the monitor again. A silent sob escapes his throat, because how the hell is he meant to keep all this love bottled up inside his heart?

"I love you and our babies too," Shane purrs, turning to face Ilya. He brushes a finger across Ilya's cheek, wiping a single tear away with just his middle finger. "I love you three so much. I'm so happy, Ilya. We're really having another baby, baby!"

Ilya leans in, kissing Shane on the mouth for a few uninterrupted seconds. It's a soft, loving kiss, nothing too dramatic or too intimate that might make Dr. Collins uncomfortable. Not that she hasn't seen everything in her practice.

"Oh!" Dr. Collins suddenly says, breaking the silence in the room. "That is a second heartbeat!"

"Second heartbeat?" Shane whips his head to the monitor, and his heart drops to the pit of his stomach. "Our baby has two hearts?"

That can't be - what does a baby with two hearts even do? Shane will love them regardless of how many hearts they have, but two hearts? Holy shit - Shane's never heard of a baby with two hearts.

"Da, because we love them so much, they grew two hearts," Ilya says softly, definitely not realizing what the hell those two heartbeats actually mean. "That is so amazing."

Dr. Collins chuckles softly. She moves the wand slightly to the left, which better shows another a second figure to the side. Shane can just barely make it out, but it looks the same as the first figure.

"That's Baby A," she says, pointing her finger at the flickering bean that Shane and Ilya have been staring at for a few seconds. "And this," she moves her finger to the second little dot on the screen, "is Baby B."

Shane's breath hitches as he watches the two little fetuses on the screen. A laugh escapes his throat after a few seconds, somewhat between a wheeze and a laugh. Two. Fucking two.

He doesn't want to think about how big he'll be this time around or how bad his hips are going to hurt once the twins decide to move down. Lev was huge as a newborn, so the chances of the twins being as big… oh, Shane's going to need to think about that down the road.

"I am not following you." Ilya squints his eyes as he stares at the two fetuses on the screen.

"Twins," Shane repeats after her, his breath being taken away by such a realization. Two car seats. Two cribs. Two hockey sticks they'll have to buy when the twins start playing. That's one more baby than they were planning to have. "We're having twins, Ilya."

"Identical twins, by the look of it," the doctor confirms, pointing to the gray structure surrounding the uterus. Shane and Ilya squint to look at where she's pointing. "If you look closely, you can see them sharing a placenta."

A breathy "oh" escapes Ilya's lips as reality officially hits him. He stares at the two fetuses on the screen, unable to look away from the two of them. Two of them - that seems so strange to think about. Ilya will be a father of three. To go from being afraid that Lev will be their only child to suddenly being the father of three, Ilya feels as though every part of his soul may combust into a million pieces.

He stands up from his seat, making both Dr. Collins and Shane jump slightly. The alpha leans in and hugs Shane tightly, pressing his face into his husband's neck. A shaky cry escapes his throat, sobs mixing with the sound of their twin's heartbeats. Who gives a fuck if Ilya is being dramatic? They're having twins - it's a miracle!

"I fucking love you," Ilya mutters into Shane's neck. He presses a kiss to Shane's bond mark, rubbing his nose into his husband's scent gland. "Two babies. We are having two of them!"

"Two." Shane laughs awkwardly, moving his hands up to rub Ilya's back in large circles. His neck is now wet from Ilya's tears, but that doesn't matter right now. There's only one thing he can think of. "We are so fucked."