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Shane vibrates with anxiety as he paces nervously back and forth in front of the TV. He can’t do this. He really can’t do this. Hands wringing, he stops and stares at the screen in horror as a commercial advertises baby food.
Oh fuck.
Ilya is going to be so mad at him, so fucking mad at him. This was never supposed to happen. Ilya specifically told him he didn’t want this to happen, and yet here Shane is. But it takes two to tango, so maybe Ilya won’t be too mad, or at least he’ll have to take his part of the blame in this.
Swallowing harshly, Shane resumes his pacing, subconsciously covering his stomach with both hands, breathing shakily. No. Ilya is going to lose it, he’s going to tell Shane what a fuck up and bad mate he is. Maybe he won’t want Shane anymore...
Jesus, he needs to take a deep breath and calm down. The omega runs a hand down his face and lets out a trembling breath. Maybe he can hide it for a while until he can figure out a way to tell Ilya so that the alpha won’t disown him. Maybe he can—
“Shane? I’m home, moy lyubimyy.”
Shit.
The Canadian freezes, his eyes clenching shut as he hears the front door close. Ilya’s footsteps seem to echo in the otherwise quiet house, each footstep sounding more and more like the thunder of doom. The scent of muscular alpha and mate fill Shane’s nostrils, and he shakes as the alpha enters their shared bedroom.
He really, really can’t do this.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Ilya smiles, nearing the omega and pulling him in for a heartfelt kiss. “How was your day?”
Shane squirms in his grasp, not making eye contact. “It—it was alright...”
Ilya frowns. “Did something happen? Do I need to talk to coach about giving you more time off?”
“Uh... well... Um. No. No, everything’s fine. I just, uh...” Should Shane tell Ilya now? No! Lie, lie, lie! Just think of something. “I, um, I just feel a little under the weather.”
Ilya’s frown deepens and he shoves his face into the crook of Shane’s neck, inhaling deeply.
Oh fucking christ, he’s going to figure it out.
“Hmm,” Ilya pulls back and caresses Shane’s cheek with his hand. He looks so fucking concerned. “I thought you smelled a little different. Come here,” he murmurs softly, gently pulling the omega towards the bed. “I’ll take care of you, malysh.”
Malysh. Baby.
Shane is going to have a baby.
He watches as Ilya fiddles with the throw blanket at the end of the bed, belatedly noticing that he’s shivering as the alpha tucks the blanket around him and maneuvers him into a comfortable position. He harshly bites the insides of his cheeks when Ilya places a tender kiss on his forehead.
“I’ll be right back, okay? I will make you soup,” Ilya smiles before turning to leave. “Then I will feed you like you are my baby.”
Baby.
Shane freaks. “I’m going to have your baby!” he shouts.
Ilya spins and stares at him in disbelief.“Wh-what?”
Wow. Great job, Shane, just yell it in his face.
“I—” Tears spill from the omega’s eyes as his distress stinks up the room. “I’m going to have your baby. Ou-our baby. I—I—” Shane can’t speak, sobs over taking his body as he draws up his knees to bury his face in them, crying his heart out. This is it. Ilya is going to leave him now.
It’s only a few short seconds before Shane is pulled into his mate’s strong arms and his face is pressed against Ilya’s neck, right next to their mate mark where their scents are the most potent. Shane expects for Ilya to smell angry, livid, filled with fury, but, instead, the alpha smells happy and is emitting calming pheromones to sooth his distraught omega. It just makes Shane cry harder. Ilya is trying to console him when all Shane has done is fuck up, and here Ilya is trying to be considerate.
“Shane, sweetheart,” Ilya whispers into his ear. “What is the matter, moya lyubov? Are you not happy?”
“Wh-what?” Shane asks weakly, removing his face from where he’s plastered it against the alpha’s neck. “What?”
Ilya wipes away stray tears from Shane’s cheeks with his thumb. He smiles at the crying omega softly. “We are going to have a baby! I’m so happy!” his smile filters off into a concerned frown. “Are you not excited, moy lyubimmy?”
“I—” Shane stares into Ilya’s earnest eyes with confusion. “I thought you didn’t want to have a baby.”
Now it’s Ilya’s turn to look confused. “What? Why would you think this?”
Shane leans into the alpha’s touch as Ilya strokes his hair. “You said you didn’t. The other night when we were getting ready for bed and I was joking around about how it would be to have pups and you said you didn’t want to have pups with me right now. You don’t want to have a baby with me!” His voice hitches and breaks at the end and he lets out another heart-breaking sob.
“No, no, no, Shane! Of course I want to have a baby with you, you are my mate,” Ilya holds him close and runs a hand down his back. “I am so happy you’re going to have my baby. But, sweetheart, what does this have to do with puppy dogs?”
Shane’s mind glitches. Puppy dogs? “What are you talking about?” he asks after gathering himself a bit. “What puppy dogs?”
They stare at each other blankly before Ilya finally stutters out. “I— well I thought you were joking about getting a puppy, but I know you are not really a dog person and we are so busy with hockey and away from home a lot, so I was just joking back with you. What—uh—” the alpha coughs and clears his throat. “What were you talking about?”
“Babies,” Shane says blandly, carefully watching the alpha’s reaction. “I was talking about babies. Pups.”
“Oh,” Ilya sits and stares at him for a moment. “Oh,” he says again slowly. “I—I did not know,” his voice turns desperate, his face pleading. “Fuck, sweetheart, I did not know! We do not call babies pups in Russia. I thought you were joking about getting a dog. I’m sorry! I’m so, so sorry! I want this baby, of course, I do. This is our baby,” He gently runs his hands over Shane’s stomach. “We are going to have a baby.”
Shane beams at his silly mate. “Yes, we’re going to have a baby. Thank god you want this,” he says as he gets the stuffing squeezed out of him from the suffocating hug Ilya has tugged him into. “I was really freaking out,” he laughs while Ilya places kisses all over his face. “Even thought you might leave me.”
Ilya stops and looks at his mate directly in the eyes. “Never,” he vows. “Never ever,” then he flips them over until Shane’s back hits the bed and Ilya is looming over him, grinning warmly. “I love you so much, Shane.”
The omega grins back, looping his arms around the alpha’s neck and he yanks him down into a searing kiss. “I love you too, you big doofus.”
Ilya snorts and shakes his smiling head. “I am so sorry, moya lyubov. Was a translation problem.”
“I know it's okay,” Shane smiles brightly as his alpha’s hands wonder under his shirt to rub his belly. “I’m going to have your baby.”
Ilya smirks at him playfully. “You’re going to have my pup.”
Shane giggles and Ilya joins in, both ending the laughter by their lips meeting once again. The omega nips at the alpha’s ear teasingly and pulls at it. “Just don’t tell anyone that you called our baby a dog.”
“You’re pregnant?”
The mated pair sit up and see David standing to the doorway of their room in shock, mouth agape, charger cable in hand.
Oh hell.
“Hi, Dad,” Shane waves. “We didn’t know you were here.”
“You’re pregnant,” David repeats in bewilderment. “And Ilya called your baby a dog? Oh man, I have to tell Yuna.”
“Wait,” Ilya calls urgently, a hand outstretched. “David, don’t—”
But it’s too late, Shane’s dad is long gone.
“Well,” Shane smiles. “This should be interesting.”
Ilya signs and rests his head on top of Shane’s. “He’s going to tell your mother that I called our baby a dog.”
Delighted, Shane giggles. “We’ll explain what actually happened, nothing to worry about.”
The pair gazes lovingly into each other’s eyes until the front door slams and Yuna Hollander's voice rings out loudly through the entire house. “Ilya Grigorovich Rozanov! My darling boy is pregnant with your child and you have the nerve to call that precious baby a dog?!”
The room is silent for a moment as the alpha and omega glance at each other wide-eyed before bursting out laughing.
This is going to be one hell of a story to tell their child one day, or, ahem, their pup.