It’s the morning after a wonderful night filled with sex and cuddles when it all goes wrong.

Shane wakes up to find the space beside him empty. Maybe that’s better, it gives him some time to gather his thoughts and start on the mission he’s set for himself today. He grabs the items carefully hidden at the back of his nightstand and goes out in search of Ilya. He finds him in the kitchen, sitting at the table, looking grave. Before he can ask what’s wrong, Ilya’s mouth opens and he shatters the tranquil moment.

“I think we should not do this anymore.” Ilya's words cut through Shane's heart like a well sharpened knife. He's always been able to do that painfully well - bringing down all of Shane's defenses only to leave him behind, alone and vulnerable.

“Oh.” Shane's knees go weak and he has to grab onto the counter to stop his body from collapsing onto the floor. Even as he’s dizzy, he makes sure the two plastic sticks clutched in his hand stay hidden behind his back. Ilya stares at the floor, waiting for more, but he remains silent. Because really, what is he supposed to say?

Please don't do this?

Please stay?

Please don’t leave me?

He's not above begging, but the look on Ilya's face conveys he won't be easily swayed. The worst part is - he really thought they were getting somewhere. Sure, the relationship wasn’t ideal, it probably wasn’t even a relationship at all, but it was something. Something real and raw enough that losing it brings about pain.

The familiar sting of his eyes right before he starts crying makes him turn his head away. There's no way he's letting Ilya witness his demise. “Okay.” He chokes out, and hates how crestfallen he sounds. “I'm just- I'm gonna go.” He rushes before turning on his heel and walking out. It's only when he's outside, the door closed behind him, does he realize this is his home. The pregnancy tests weigh heavy in his hand and he shoves them into the front pocket of his hoodie.

He wasn’t expecting fanfare, or even Ilya to be happy, but he did think he’d at least get a chance to tell him. Should he even do that, though? Seeing as Ilya finally got bored of him, maybe it’ll be better if he just deals with it by himself. Alone and quietly, just like always. As he contemplates on what to do, the doors open and Ilya, wearing a tight expression, emerges from the apartment.

“Hollander.” You called me Shane only yesterday. “Stay, I will go.” He exits and holds the door open for Shane to get in. It feels surreal. How is it that last night they were holding each other tight, whispering sweet nothings, still a little too scared to put a name to what has been growing between them, and now Ilya won’t even look at him properly?

“You're such an asshole.” Shane bites out, unable to contain the sudden flow of anger, and takes a step forward.

Before he can fully get in, he's pushed into the apartment and hears the doors slam close. He yelps as Ilya turns him around and presses him up against the wall.

“I am an asshole, yes?” Ilya’s hot breath warms his cheeks as he speaks inches away from his face, finally looking him in the eyes. With a startle, Shane realises Ilya's are glossed over with tears. “And you are not, hmm? Still letting me fuck you while having a girlfriend?” They’ve been over this already. Exasperated, Shane lets out a sigh.

“I'm gay, Ilya.” He replies, but that only makes Ilya scoff.

“Not so gay you can't fuck Rose Landry.” The crude accusation makes Shane pause. Ilya sounds… genuinely hurt. There’s anger there too, of course, but the hurt is much more prominent. Looking at him now, he can see the way his shoulders are drawn up, as if he’s expecting a blow. His body is taut, almost rigid as he cages Shane in with his arms. His whole stance is screaming - distraught.

“What are you talking about?” There must be something to make him react this way. To make his emotions boil over to the point of throwing baseless claims.

Shane gets his answer soon enough as Ilya shoves a phone in front of his face, the bright screen showing some sort of article. He blinks away the tears blurring his vision and reads.

Shane stares at the photos, dumbfounded, and diverts his eyes from the phone to Ilya’s face. His expression is expectant, and Shane can hear the silent question.

What do you have to say for yourself now?

This is ridiculous, but as he eyes the pap-pics again, he kind of understands how they might be misleading. The thing is, he met Rose yesterday to talk about what he should do. Pregnant while still not out, and not in a fully-committed relationship with the baby’s father. He had no one else to really talk to about this except Rose.

”You should just tell him.” She offered while squeezing his hand in comfort. ”You can’t decide his reaction for yourself. Give him the benefit of the doubt. You’ve been hooking-up with him for a long time. He must not be so bad if you keep going back.”

Determined to clear the misunderstanding, and simultaneously follow Rose’s advice, he slips a hand inside his hoodie’s pocket and grabs the tests tightly before pulling them out. He brings them up to Ilya’s face and watches as his expression falls. There's a slight quiver to Ilya's lips as he fully takes in what he’s looking at, before his gaze shifts to Shane.

”She's pregnant?” He whispers, eyes boring into Shane’s soul. “You got her pregnant?” Any emotions showing on his face get replaced by a mask of feigned indifference. “Why are you showing me this, should I congratulate you on the baby?” No, this is not how they’re going to do this. He’s not letting Ilya pull wool over his eyes so he can later go cry in the corner.

”You asshole, you absolute fucking idiot.” He shoves Ilya back with all his strength, the tests falling to the ground, and hits his chest while he speaks. He doesn't look at Ilya’s face but it must be sporting an expression of utter confusion. “I’m the one pregnant.”

”What?” Ilya asks, breathless, and no longer tries to stop Shane’s arms from attacking his chest.

”I am pregnant.” Shane speaks while pointing to himself. “I met with Rose yesterday to talk about what I should do. She gave terrible advice by the way, as she told me to just let the father know.” His arms are no longer moving, the hands formed into fists now only resting on Ilya's chest. “I stupidly decided to do it. I should’ve seriously reconsidered it since the father seems to lack common sense.”

”You're pregnant?” Ilya questions, staring at him in disbelief.

How much more clear can he make it? With a heavy exhale he steps away from Ilya’s space and slides down the wall until he’s crouching on the hallway floor before replying. ”Yes.”

”And Landry is not your girlfriend?” Ilya sinks down to his level, and, purposefully or not, gets on his knees.

”Yes, we established that already. And the father is stupid, an asshole.” Throwing the insults around does make him feel a little bit better. Ilya, though, seems unfazed by them, rightfully recognising the vague description.

”Me? You're having my baby?” Tentatively, he places his hands on Shane’s thighs, keeping the touch light. He exhales with relief as Shane graciously doesn’t shove them away.

”No, I’m pregnant with a stupid asshole’s baby. You, on the other hand, are a ginormously idiotic bastard.” Those are synonyms, Ilya knows as much, and by the way Shane’s cheeks are flushed with warranted anger as he stares him down, this really is his baby.

“Shane, fuck. What the fuck?” Mere minutes ago he was on the verge of a breakdown accepting the man he’s come to greatly care about has chosen someone else. The whiplash is frankly insane.

Shane doesn’t seem as elated by the sudden change of the narrative. “No, that's what I should be saying. What the fuck, Ilya?” He calls out, finally letting the tears fall. Ilya curses himself for causing this, for making this beautiful man, pregnant with his child, cry because of his own inability to be vulnerable and speak about his emotions.

”Sorry, so sorry. I-” He stutters, running his fingers through his hair as he tries to put his feelings into words. It’s hard, something he’s learned to avoid, but for Shane, he will try. “I saw the photos and I thought- I thought she could be better for you.” He speaks, choking on words. “You always said how it scared you, how your career as it is would be over, you'd be reduced to a label.” The words, beside the obvious meaning, seem to scream: I care about you enough to leave if it means you’ll be happy. They also scream: I’m a ginormous idiot., but Shane’s got that one already. “Being with Rose Landry would make all of that fear disappear.” His sweet, sweet Ilya, choosing heartbreak over selfishly claiming Shane as his own. Trying to sacrifice his own happiness, while unknowingly attempting to do the same to Shane’s.

Shane places his warm palms over Ilya’s hands and makes him look up. ”Once again, Ilya, I am a gay man. I cannot, even if I wanted to - which I don't, by the way - be with Rose.” He explains it to Ilya like he’s five, hoping it sticks.

”I know that, I just-” Ilya pauses, seemingly at a loss.

”You decided to jump to your own conclusions without talking to me.” Shane continues for him, and Ilya hangs his head down in shame.

”I am sorry.” He apologises, sounding solemn.

”You should be.” Despite his harsh tone, Shane can't find it in him to stay mad at Ilya for long.

”I- you really are pregnant?” Ilya slips one of his hands from under Shane’s and gathers the discarded tests. He studies them with great focus, marveling at the pink plus signs.

”Yes. If you ask me who the father is I swear to god, Rozanov.” Ilya puts the test to the side with ceremonial tenderness and goes back to Shane's thigh, this time clasping his own hand over Shane’s in a tight embrace.

”Is this real? I tried to break things off, to set you free from myself, and you're going to give me a family? Tie yourself to me in such an unbreakable way?” He’s always dreamt of having a family of his own, people he could offer unconditional love to and receive as much of it back.

”Yes. Maybe.” Shane replies, bringing him back to reality. “I haven’t really decided on what to do yet.” And right, this isn’t just a question of ‘baby’ or ‘no baby’. This is about Shane’s whole career and how bringing a life into it would forever alter it.

”Fuck. You wouldn’t be able to play hockey.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, Ilya feels his heart sink. The decision is inevitable.

”I don't know. Players come back after having babies.” Shane reasons, fiddling with Ilya’s fingers.

”They do.” There have been multiple cases of that happening, although with varying results.

”But it could seriously mess up my body. I might not come back as good.” Knowing Shane he’d put in all his effort to come back even better.

Still, Ilya doesn’t want to influence him. This is not his choice to make, so he simply agrees. “That’s true.”

”Is it bad that I kind of want to keep it?” Shane whispers, and without thinking, Ilya pulls him into a hug.

”No, whatever you decide, is all good. You can choose yourself here, is not bad to do so. Maybe we will cry a little, yes, but I would cry more if you decided to do what’s ‘right’. There is no right and wrong here, Shane.” He mumbles into Shane’s hair, his throat tight. To think that Shane would even consider hindering his career to have a baby with him makes him crazy with affection.

”How are you so good at this?” Shane wraps his arms around Ilya’s body, bringing him closer.

”At what?” Ilya asks, rubbing his back up and down, satisfied as he feels Shane melt into the touch.

”I don’t know. Making me calm?” He almost purrs along with Ilya’s movements across his skin.

”Ah, special trick. Not saying.” Ilya maneuvers them around and ends up against the wall with his lap full of Shane, his face tucked safely into Ilya’s neck. He puts his lips to Shane's temple and simply rests them there, finding comfort in the small action.

They sit on the floor, bodies tangled together as want mixes with reason. The day continues to move but they stay frozen in place, grappling with reality. Whatever the outcome, after all is said and done, it looks like they’ll still have each other.