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Drugs are fantastic.
All the weight from life, the fans, the team, and the need to always look and act perfect is nowhere in sight. There’s a constant, pleasant buzz in his body, and Shane is thankful for all the pillows or he wouldn’t be able to sit up. His neck would strain, but he can’t think about that right now. He’s positive the world could come out from under him, and he’d be happy as a clam. He’s on a cloud, floating too high for anything to hurt him.
The door opens, and Shane forces his head up once the scent of lavender and sandalwood hits his nose. His alpha is here. His alpha is here.
He is bubbly all over with excitement - or it might be the drugs. “Ilya! Ilyaaa! Ilyaaa…”
His alpha shushes him, and Shane giggles. He’s giddy at the sight of Ilya, and if his legs weren’t made of bricks, they’d be kicking under the blankets. His toes wiggle. A success.
Ilya shuts the door behind him. Shane beams at him, smiling wide at his handsome alpha. He's tall and gorgeous, and blond curls have never looked so good on someone before. Well - that’s not true, maybe, but everyone that matters is him and Ilya. He tries to remember anyone else, and he can’t, and he giggles.
“I, uh, I just wanted to,” Ilya starts. “Are you okay?”
He’s dressed in black, and his collar covers a small part of his neck. His long, pretty neck, and Shane wants to touch and bite and rub his nose against his skin. His scent is the strongest there, and Shane is absolutely sure he has the best smell in the world.
Shane almost asks what he means, but then he looks down at the hospital gown he’s wearing. Plus all the wrapping and bandages. His arm was in a sling - oh!
“Concussion, fractured collarbone, out for the playoffs,” Shane lists airily.
“It could’ve been worse,” Ilya murmurs.
Shane huffs a laugh. His alpha is so right. He’s intelligent and handsome. “It could’ve been worse.”
“Marleau did not mean to hurt you,” Ilya says.
“I know,” Shane says. He can’t stop smiling. His alpha was here! He’s the most lucky omega in the world - injuries and all. “It’s part of the game. We all get our bell rung eventually, right?”
“Right.”
Shane sniffs and tilts his head. Ilya smells…wrong. He smells sad, which should be illegal for Ilya to be anything besides happy. His omega uncoils in his chest, for once uninhibited by rules and fear, and he reaches out for his distressed alpha. His scent intensifies, pheromones working double time to entice his alpha to him. He needs to fix and soothe because while his alpha looks handsome with his usual stern frown, he looks infinitely better happy.
“Hey…” Shane says with a lopsided grin. When his alpha doesn’t come like he should, Shane holds out a hand, speaking louder with a whine because his alpha always does what he wants. It’s Ilya’s fault if he’s a brat. “Hey…”
Ilya shushes him and rushes over. He gives Shane his hands. “Okay. Okay.”
Shane’s toes wiggle, and he beams bright. He intertwines their fingers. The scent of a happy, pleased omega comes off in waves. “Yes. Bet-ter,” he giggles.
Some of the hardness of Ilya’s facial features soften. His blue eyes shine. “You scared me.”
Shane’s omega whines at the words. The drugs are still going strong. Shane brings Ilya’s hand to his face. He kisses his palm, all five fingertips, and his wrist. He sticks his nose there, another place his scent is strongest. Shane inhales deeply, confidently doing something he’s denied himself for too long.
Shane marks him with his scent. He rubs his nose on the sensitive side of his wrist, scraping his teeth against the spot. A privilege only an omega can do to their alpha, and Shane was his omega. He rubs his cheek, purring in content, flooding every inch of the room with happy omega pheromones.
If his alpha smells Shane on him, he’ll know he’s there, safe and sound. He will no longer be so sad. He’ll smell like Shane, and the thought makes Shane sigh happily and giddy.
“I’m sorry I didn’t text you last night.”
Ilya shakes his head. “No, it’s okay.”
Then his alpha caresses his face. He runs his knuckles over his cheek and below his jaw, going back and forth. His alpha is scenting him back. Shane’s heart quickens, and the machine beeps louder. His omega has melted into a pool of bliss, submitting entirely while his alpha marks him with his scent. His chest vibrates.
He’s purring. He's never done that before.
“I was excited about last night,” Shane admits, voice slurring slightly. He can’t be expected to speak properly with his alpha scenting him. “I’m mostly mad at Marleau for fucking that up.”
Ilya pulls away. “He feels really bad.”
“You know, I had a whole plan to ask you something,” Shane says. His alpha still looks sad and smells distressed, but it’s not bad anymore. He also smells heavily like Shane. To the point where it’d be obvious where he’s been and who he visited for a week.
Possessiveness whirls through Shane, and he can’t say he’s not delighted by that.
“Maybe it’s better if you just rest right now,” Ilya suggests kindly.
“I was going to ask you…”
“Hollander.”
“Will you come to my cottage this summer?” Shane asks.
His chest has sunshine trapped inside, and it seeps out. His feet kick under the covers. He could build a nest - something he’s itched to do in every hotel room but didn’t feel safe enough to do so. Too many outside smells.
Ilya will tell him he likes his nest, and Shane will pull him in. They can cuddle in it every day and night. His alpha could fuck him in the nest he made just for them, and all the blankets and pillows will smell exclusively like them.
“Don’t go to Russia,” he slurs. The drugs are kicking in harder. “Come to my house. We’ll have so much fun. It’s so private - no one will know.”
“Hollander, you know I can’t do that.”
“We could have a week or maybe even two,” Shane goes on. Ilya’s argument hitting walls. “We’d be completely alone. Together.”
“Maybe.” Ilya hesitates. “Maybe.”
The door opens.
“Uh oh!” Shane says.
The nurse grins at them. “You’re not going to smother him with a pillow, are you, Mr. Rozanov?”
“Ah, no. No,” Ilya denies with a matching grin. It doesn’t meet his eyes like when he’s joking normally. “But good thinking. I was just leaving.”
The nurse’s grin slips, and she looks between them again with different eyes. She takes a breath - a couple to be sure - and she blinks several times. Ilya might’ve stepped back, but Shane already drenched him with his scent. It’ll take a few baths to get rid of every trace of him, and Shane beams proudly at his work.
“Bye-bye,” Shane sings. My alpha smells like me.
“Goodbye.”
“See you next season,” Shane says.
“Get well soon, Hollander.”
His alpha leaves with his finger pressed to his lips. He disappears out the door.
Shane grins at the nurse. “Hello!”