Archive of Our Own

It's been years since Shane said, "hi," to him outside an ice rink in Saskatchewan. Years since every choice, wether conscious or not has been made in revolution of one another. The moon does not know that it orbits the earth, Ilya thinks that for years back then, that is how they moved around each other. Every extra gym session, every extra optional practice attended, every milisecond shaved off their skating records. Ilya following Shane. Shane following Ilya. Things changed later on. They've changed drastically since then. The first visit to the cottage so so far back in the rear view mirror. The first time he went through a heat with somebody else so long ago. It has been a long time since his nest has been permanently built, never neglected in his and Shane's room. And it has been a long time since they've been talking about, planning the logistics of having pups.

Ilya never really thought about what it would mean for him to have kids before he and Shane got serious. The idea of being with an alpha made his skin roil. They so rarely gave up power the way that Ilya needed them to. And it was a rare occurance for him to end up in bed with an omega and enjoy it. But Shane, has never failed to go docile in just the way that Ilya has needed him to. Never failed to fight back when Ilya wanted him to. And on the rare occasions that he did take control, it lacked the callousness that previous partners had tried to employ.

They fit like a hole and a peg. Though Ilya supposes that if people knew he was an omega they would look at him and see a hole, see a conquest, see an inherent right to claim. And somehow, despite making up a decently large percentage of the population, people would look at a beta like Shane and see neither hole nor peg. They would overlook that aspect of him entirely. Nonetheless, Ilya has grown quite fond of his hole.

Though, tonight is not about that.

He knows when his heats come and go. He has to. It would be irresponsible not to track them in his line of work, with his status a secret. And even if it wasn't a priority of his, Shane's neurotic and compulsive nature would not allow Ilya to forget. So it was no surprise to either of them when Ilya felt the tell tale cramping in his gut a month into their off season. It was as though his intestines were trying to strangle themselves. He hated this part of having heats. He'd forgotten about the cramps in the days that lead up to a heat when he was on suppressants. Maybe forgot is the wrong word for it. After his presentation, Alexei and Grigory had made sure that he started suppressants, immediately. Ilya's had complicated thoughts about the speed with which they foisted the pills on him. But in the end he knows he would have been laughed out of the league if they hadn't made sure he was on them. So even though he resents the shame that fueled the rashness of their decisions, he reaps the thorny rewards of what smothering a part of himself has gotten him. Not that it matters, he's been off of them since Shane was traded to Ottawa. Since they married. Since Shane's fangs dropped, and Ilya's ruptured the barrier of his skin, over the dull woodsy smell of his mating gland. And now he's had his heats with regularity, twice a year. And every time he wants to reach inside his abdomen and pull and pull until the pain goes away. And every time after the cramps comes the insatiable need to reach behind his scrotum and shove a false knot into his pussy, keeping the gnawing hunger of his omega clamp quenched, while he bends Shane over the nearest surface and carves a path inside of him.

It will be strange to be the one getting fucked. It's not as though he's never had another person inside of him. But it is not his usual preference. And it is not Shane's. Though, maybe getting fucked is not the right way to refer to what they're doing. Not with with the way that Shane already has that cloudy, half-glazed look in his eyes. Mouth open, lips puckered around his favorite false knotted dildo. His drool dripping a path down his neck. The straps holding the false knot in place will leave marks on Shane's face. Ilya's cock kicks at the thought of fucking his mouth later, running his fingers along the depressions in the skin that the leather will leave as he does so. He feels slick drip out of him at the thought, and he can't help himself. He's giddy with excitement as he meets Shane's deep brown eyes, stares into them and grabs him by the wrist. Ilya drags Shane's hand down past his cock, under his balls, lets Shane's fingers settle against his folds. Let's Shane feel where the slick is dripping out of him, let's him feel what he does to him. And when Shane's chest heaves with a whimper, Ilya sinks two of his fingers in. He's had the false knot that's made a home in Shane's throat inside of him all day, and his pussy gives with ease, as he pumps Shane's fingers into himself. He pulls Shane as deep into him as he can, buries him there. And he thinks that any other time he'd be hard pressed to breathe, but right now all he wants is more.

He wants Shane deeper, harder, but he can't leave his puppy empty and gaping while he fills himself. Ilya is an ambitious man, greedy some would say. But he is not an unfair lover. He never has been. And as much as it almost hurts, the way that his cunt tries to clamp down on Shane's fingers, trying to pull him back in when Ilya moves Shane's wrist away from his body, his neglected cock weeping at the pang of emptiness, he feels almost high. Like he's taken too much adderall. He thinks every hair on his body is standing on end and he lets himself rut his hips up to chase Shane's retreating fingers, teases his beta.

It works. Shane can't speak around the cock in his mouth, but the high pitched squeal he lets out as he tries—weakly—to work against Ilya's grip, sets the omega's body on fire.

"Oh puppy. You are being so greedy for me. Doing so well, trying to take what you want, baby. Do you think I should let you?" Ilya draws his wrist closer, stops short of plunging Shane's long fingers inside himself.

"Mmmgh. Mmmhhmmph!" Shane moans out, nodding his head enthusiastically.

"What was that, baby?" Ilya asks, clenching his hand tight around Shane's, not to hurt him, but to stop himself from pushing Shane onto his back and climbing him. It would ruin all of the fun he's planned for them.

Shane lets out a high pitched whine, begging Ilya.

"Okay. Okay! You've done so well for me baby. And you know what good boys get don't you?" Ilya can see Shane's eyes light up behind the daze that he's in. He takes in the way that he nods his head, like a dandelion bending in a slight breeze. Already so cock drunk, and he isn't even the one who'll be taking it tonight.

Ilya drops Shane's wrist to the bed, and before his confusion can take grip and turn to panic he gets on his knees, pushes Shane, letting him flop on his back in their nest and leans over him in between his knees. Ilya gathers both of Shane's hands in his own. Leans down to kiss along the skin running along Shane's arms, bites at his ulnar heads with little teasing nips. Feels himself grow hotter and more desperate with every shuddering breath and moan that Shane lets out below him.

"So good for me puppy. So good." Ilya breathes against his skin, sinks his teeth into his arm at Shane's moan. He keeps Shane's hands locked together in one of his as he reaches down to finger himself. Ilya lets himself ride his fingers for a bit, gathering as much slick as he can and relieving some of the pressure.

"Ah—" he breathes out. "Fuck!" Ilya runs his soaking fingers along the length of his cock before dipping back into his cunt and gathering more slick.

He lets it pool on the width of his fingers, freeing one of Shane's hands and leaning more of his weight onto him, until he's whispering into his ear.

"Are you ready, Puppy?" He asks him, lets his voice drop lower, waits for Shane's impatient whine, for his sharp tap. Always so bad at controlling his pressure when he's this fucked out. This excited for more. The sting grounds Ilya and he nips at Shane's neck before bringing his fingers to circle around the furl of Shane's hole. He can feel the flutter of the skin underneath his fingers and it causes Ilya to buck up against Shane's abs.

He lets out a high pitched sound at the same time that Ilya mutters a strained, "блядь!"

He increases the pressure on Shane's hole with one finger, keeps his body angled away from Shane's as best he can in this position, as he sinks his finger into the tight give of Shane's body. Ilya goes slow, though he knows he does not have to. Knows that Shane likes it fast and hard. He mouths along the stretch of leather along Shane's cheek as he lets Shane get used to the intrusion. He goes slow. Lets his own spit congeal with Shane's, licks against the rough skin in need of a shave, until Shane is begging below him, trying to impale himself further along Ilya's finger.

"You want more baby?" Ilya teases as he dips his finger further in and then withdraws it from the warmth of Shane's hole. Fucks back into him with two fingers, pistoning them until they hit Shane in just the right spot and his entire body tenses up.

"Think you can take one more for me? Will let you have a reward if you do." Ilya tells Shane, and when Shane taps him roughly against his deltoid, Ilya sinks a third finger into him. He moves them in and out slowly, speeding up with each thrust, until Shane is a quaking mess beneath him, and Ilya can feel his own legs running with slick, the mattress beneath them getting soaked. He pulls his fingers out of Shane.

"I know. I know, is hard. But it's time for your reward, moya lyubov." Ilya coos at Shane when he lets out dejected whimpers beneath him, runs his mouth up against Shane's scarred mating gland, grounding him as best he can.

It takes a minute, but Ilya finds Shane's favorite plug buried in the sheets of their nest and lifts it so that Shane can see before bringing it down to his center. The metal is cold against his pussy and Ilya shivers as he pushes the weight into himself. It's not exactly what his body wants, but he can feel his cunt try to clamp down on the plug anyways. He lets himself sit like that for a second, plugged up before easing the plug out. His hand comes away soaked, and the plug drips slick onto his thigh. Ilya can't help the chirp that he lets out as he looks at it. He breathes in, holds it, and lets it loose. Brings it to the pucker of Shane's hole, runs the tip along where Shane is clenching around nothing.

Shane nods at Ilya once, taps him again. It's lighter than before, but no less sure. And Ilya pushes the plug in. Taps the tapered end once it's fully settled inside Shane. Watches his eyes as he puts more pressure on the plug.

He moves his hand away, runs it along his hairy thigh as he maneuvers himself to straddle his wide waist, always hovering over Shane. He settles his pussy along the length of Shane's cock. Groans at the tingling sensation he feels, at the way his stomach somersaults in anticipation. He lets himself rut along it, huffing moans in harmony with Shane as he lowers himself until he can kiss Shane through the false knot in his mouth. Ilya licks at the silicone. Laps at Shane's saliva as it runs. Exalts in the fact that he's making his beta crumble beneath him. And then he's reaching to undo the fasteners on either side of Shane's head. Ilya lets the false knot slip out of Shane's mouth. Balls his saliva on his tongue and spits into the red heat of it wide open below him. Shane presses up against him. It's an inelegant motion and he digs his nails into Ilya's skin as he meets him in a bruising kiss, lets Ilya fuck his mouth with his tongue while he grinds against his cock, against his abdomen.

"Fuck, Ilya." Shane breathes out when Ilya finally pulls back.

Ilya wants to say something, but he's too wired, too close to getting what he needs, to making Shane come, to being filled with Shane's come, to being pupped. He feels like his body is glowing, like he's in overdrive and primed for this. He supposes he is in a way.

He lifts himself up a little, lining Shane's cock up with his entrance and, pawing at his tits, digging a thumbnail into Shane's nipple he lowers himself, lets Shane fill him.

"Fuck! Fucking, shit fuck! Ah-" Shane lets out a string of curses at the overstimulation, as Ilya surrounds him in every way. Ilya's sure he's making inelegant and desperate sounds, but his focus is on Shane as he sinks down until he's sitting fully sheathing Shane's cock. His own sorely neglected. And yet all he can think about is the way Shane's breath is rasping around him. The way the walls of his cunt are clenching as he rocks himself up and down, speeding up as he bounces atop Shane, desperate to make him come before Ilya does, before he bursts the bubble. He doesn't even realize how close he is, dialed in only on the wavelength of Shane's gorgeous moans, as he rides him into the mattress. It's only when Ilya feels the ever familiar kick of Shane's cock deep inside him, followed by a wet heat and Shane's fingers sliding up against his cock, still inside Ilya, making a knot of his own, that he realizes he's been on the edge this entire time.

It's all too much at once and not enough. And Ilya is barreling towards a white fuzzed cliffside, and then he's falling off over it and his body is convulsing. And he doesn't know where he ends and Shane begins.

It takes a minute for his hearing to come back, longer still for his sense of self, but he finds himself plastered to Shane, purring, their chests vibrating where Ilya's rumbles against his. He feels like he has to say something, and he's not sure what.

"Sorry, moya luybov." He settles on. Apologizing for what he knows is an extremely uncomfortable position for Shane. His arm sandwiched between them and undoubtedly cramping based on the way his eyes are creased at the edges. Ilya wishes the omega lock didn't physically force them to be stuck together in such a painful way, though he does not mind that he and Shane are entwined.

He says as much, and Shane laughs a little, his eyes clearing as he comes into himself. He moves his head back and Ilya can see his eyes bigger than ever, filled with tears in a way that they rarely are. He feels a stab of worry that Shane is dropping and there's not much he can do. But his concern is short lived, when he smiles radiant and warm and Ilya can't help but chirp at the sight.

" Я тебя люблю" Shane tells him, accent thick on the words even though they are well practiced. Ilya drops his forehead to Shane's, leaving his eyes open even though his vision is swimming and his ciliary muscles can't actually accommodate his sight this close up.

"я тебя люблю." He says it back.