Chapter Text
__________
Year 2003
Shane wasn't supposed to be an Omega.
He wasn't supposed to become the thing despised by the sports leagues, and especially the NHL. Wasn't supposed to have his life directed by his designation. Playing in the league was his dream.
Truthfully, Shane was aware of Omega Hockey Leagues. However the NHL is THE league, and knowing Shane's abilities, neither he nor his mother doubted he could be drafted at some point. But in leagues like that, Omegas are seen as a subordinate species to betas, and, of course, alphas. Everything about them screams weak, and wrong.
One example that the NHL provides as an explanation is "too many heat leaves" (declared in a professional manner and language, just to hide the old-fashioned beliefs it follows). Which when Yuna read it, she could only scoff, considering how summer ruts for Alphas are a thing, and therefore summer heats could work perfectly fine. Other than that, the NHL's report of why Omegas are not allowed in sport continues to list all physical disadvantages, and health risks which is just made up, discriminatory bullshit.
Both Yuna and David Hollanders knew that, and knew how much it affected young Shane when he realized his only dream has been crushed because of his second designation.
They visited plenty hospitals, went through tons of appointments with various expensive doctors to ensure that his designation is indeed an Omega.
"It's rare, yes, but clear" is all the specialists said, over and over again.
That was, until one day young Shane has grown sick of the horrible, sterile smell filling the white rooms and too bright head lights.
Yuna, being the mother she was and having experienced racism, would never let something as disrespectful as discrimination stop her only son from pursuing his dream.
So although the appointments and visits
resumed, the topic switched from 'is his body weaker than average' to 'how to hide his weakness?' - at least according to 13 year old Shane. Which all in all was a relief, considering how the smell and his over sensitivity still were a pain (literally).
Through his teenage years, he has learned (or added to his measured routine) to take pills, use scent blockers and navigate life without the scents. The scents which made communication easier until he started swallowing the pills. The scent patches always had to be perfectly placed on his skin, fully covering his scent gland, as nothing could be ever thrown out of order in his little orbit.
340 days in a year were going well, with constant switching between school and trainings, to which Yuna has always ensured to attend. The other 25 were a little bit more difficult.
His heats became worse and worse with each year. The society has put a pressure onto him, pushing into hiding so severely that Shane himself is ashamed of his designation.
His whole life he's been living up to proving other's wrong (even if it was mostly in his head) that just because he's an Omega, doesnt mean he's weaker. And damn some days he proved well, but it never lasted more than a few days. Over the years he's won many trophies and medals, whether it was for him or with his team. But some other days he felt like hiding in his little cave.
Yuna and David have learned to not enter Shane's room when he's in heat. He panics, tries to cover himself with the sheets - just to be as far away from the world as possible. If Shane could, he would dig a hole to the center of earth, and spend the few days there.
He won't nest, wanting to prevent any unnecessary action that will further tie him to his designation. He will go as far as starve himself just out of pure hatered towards his body, and his Omega needs.
Overtime, as Shane turned 18 and has been drafted to the NHL, he decided to switch from a couple of days in heat, to a one, prolonged, miserable duration of insufferable pain. At least his purple dildo makes it more manageable.
What? He's had to reach the drastic measures. It's not like he's ever had an Alpha to take care of him. Well, he's not even had any Alpha, period. An 18 year old virgin is not rare, especially when taken into consideration his future career, and the time he's dedicated into hockey. And it's paying off, because now he's a rookie in the NHL!
The switch was.. intense. It's not like Shane wasn't used to the heavy Alpha pheromones filling up the ice, and especially the changing room. The mandatory scent patches were a massive plus, as inhaling so much enraged scents was not on Shane's 'happy to do' list.
Obviously he keeps various lists in his house. Everything is perfectly planned out.
But the realization that this is his dream, right now, he's living his dream, would be more exciting if not for the secret that could ruin all of that in a mere week. Fucking hell, 3 days if his fame kept growing. It was slowly suffocating.
But everything's been going fine. The higher dosage of pills hasn't impacted him negatively.. yet. The scent blockers seem to do their job, and nobody at the team suspects anything. He's been slowly growing accustomed to his new, hockey family.
__________
Year 2009
Well, the peace couldn't stay forever, could it?
It all started to fall apart when his rival, Ilya Rozanov, had jerked off while admiring Shane's body in the shower (blatantly, he may add), and then invited himself over to Shane's hotel room. Well, Shane had spent the hour before wishing that he will see the Russian pinning him to the door. "To talk" he tried to excuse his thoughts.
The night went surprisingly..well. He couldn't smell Rozanov though his blockers, and than God, couldn't smell himself. Although Rozanov's a major asshole, he didn't leave Shane unsated either. Shane hoped that his earlier practices with his purple friend had paid off, and the Russian was satisfied with the blow job. And the praises which the Russian has drowned him in, proved him right, along with going straight to his dick. Apparently the bed wasn't a place Shane's competitiveness subdued - it was the opposite.
Shane hoped that this would be the last time they hooked up, but that was quickly scratched by the second time. Which for the record, went so much fucking worse.
__________
Four months later
Shane barged into Rozanov's hotel room, putting himself all over the Alpha. The Russian quickly reciprocated the eagerness, grabbing his hips, and sliding further to knead at Shane's cheeks.
"On your knees" Rozanov mumbled the instruction through the aggressive clash of their mouths. Shane happily obeyed.
He quickly fumbled with Rozanov's belt, before taking his rigid cock straight to the back of his throat. The Alpha groaned, playing with, and pulling at the roots of Shane's hair.
Shane kept bobbing his mouth and let his right hand slide down towards his own hard on. The more he kept licking and listening to Rozanov's huffs, the more he smelled it. The rough edge of fresh wood and lavender coming straight from Rozanov's scent glands. His everyday pills block out most of the scents, especially at such high doses. So the only reasonable explanation is that Rozanov is so turned on, he willingly releases the pheromones which densely fill up the whole room.
At the realization, Shane moans around Rozanov dick, and the new beautiful smell that makes him want to hide his nose at the crook of the Russian's neck.
Rozanov's lightly taps on Shane's open jaw, "Enough, enough, dont want to come yet"
Shane releases it with a pop, and raises up on his wobbly legs. Gosh, this was just a blow job and he's already gone.
Rozanov's hand comes up to wipe the saliva off his face. Shane doesn't even realize when he's moved onto Rozanov's neck, nibbing around the scent patch. For a second he stills, remembering that Betas don't smell pheromones like Alphas or Omegas. But Rozanov's hands keep wandering, exploring his body and each freckle on top, allowing him to continue his own exploration with his mouth.
Soon enough the men were naked at the hotel bed, unable to take off their mouths of each other.
Shane's nostrils filled the faint scent of the turned on Alpha. Shane was wanting, needing that scent, needing him closer to his burning with desire body.
Between the heat of their tongues, Shane felt Rozanov's hand skip his dick entirely, and move further down.
"Still okay?" he whispered in the rough accent, making Shane's blood boil underneath.
"Yeah, yeah" Shane answered with a groan.
Then, Rozanov's finger was on Shane's hole, "Have you ever..?".
Shane exhaled with anticipation, but before he could answer, the Alpha stilled.
Rozanov looked at him with wide eyes, still having his finger circling his entrance.
"..What?" he asked confused at the sudden change.
"You're Omega"
Shane froze.
They both looked straight in each other's eyes, afraid to be the first one to inhale.
Shane's head started filling up with empty excuses, and he quickly sat up on the bed to escape the Alpha's touch (no matter how much his instincts despised that).
"N-no.." Shane smiled and scoffed trying to laugh it off.
Rozanov didn't smile, "Yes", he kept staring at Shane.
Fuck. This was a stupid fucking idea. Fucking your arch rival, who now also is aware of your biggest fucking secret.
"No, why would you even think that?"
"Hollander, you're wet"
If not for the seriousness in Rozanov's tone, Shane might've really just jumped out the window from embarrassment. He could physically feel his cheeks getting redder.
He had to think of some excuse, but now that Rozanov mentioned it, he does feel moist. Can he say it's some disease? Some atypical Beta function that he's inherrited? "I-"
"Now it makes sense, I thought today you were more..." Rozanov gazed around, looking for a word, "wanting.. than usual. I should've known better than to release my scent, but I thought you're Beta. Got you all-"
Rozanov must've noticed the furrowed brows and rapidly wandering eyes.
"No, is okay" he tried to reach out, his scent slowly transforming into a cozy campfire as an obvious means to calm the Omega down.
"Don't touch me...this was clearly a mistake" Shane rapidly looked for his clothes before getting off the bed and attempt to put them on and flee the room.
His Omega traits should not be fucking present. Was this all because of the pheromones in the air? How much did that asshole release?
Rozanov grabbed his wrist, "No..No, Hollander. I will not tell anyone" His tone deeper, more controlling, but not sounding like the other Alphas on ice. Different. As if he was trying to help control the parts of Shane that are slowly slipping away.
Shane looked into his blue eyes, and then realized the view is more blurry than normal. Shit, he cannot cry right now.
As much as Shane hates (or not) to admit, the calming scent of the Alpha does help to take a few breaths through the panic.
"You won't?" he mumbled a bit more pleadingly than he wanted to. He sounded so small. So... Omega-like.
Rozanov shook his head, still grounding the panicked man with his eye contact, "I won't", he released Shane's wrist, and stood up next to him, slowly wandering up his arm. A small peck landed on his cheek, "It's okay", next one on his jaw, and then in the corner of Shane's lips.
Shane leaned into the warm touch, warm sensation of Alpha's lips on his skin. Engulfed by the calming pheromones that his instincts have accepted. His heart beat slowing down.
"Mhh, such a beautiful Omega" Rozanov peppered him with praises through every kiss, "So good on the ice, the second best rookie ever"
"The second best?" Corners of his lips curved in amusement.
"The second best" obvious way of trying to distract Shane, which ultimately is working.
"Who's first? Vincent LeMaire?"
Rozanov groaned in disagreement against Shane's collarbone, "Don't talk about other rookies when you're in bed with me"
"Oh, so you want to say you're the first best?"
He felt the Russian smile against his scent patch, and leave a few more affectionate kisses. "Always Hollander"
"I think I'm better than you" Shane's fingers grabbed the blonde curls and started playing with them.
"Well you are wrong" Rozanov broke away from Hollander's hot skin, and looked past the beautiful warm-colored dots scattered across his face into the brown eyes, "But it's okay Omega, I take care of you" he let a finger brush at the smile-stretched freckles.
The label coming out of Rozanov's mouth should have an opposite effect than it does. He shouldn't like it, he hates his designation - it ruined his life. But the way it comes out the Alpha's lips like a praise, worship, makes him want to do something as stupid as purr.
Shane hadn't realized when both men made their way back to the bed. When his legs opened willingly, letting the Russian settle in between. But he didn't mind, and neither did his unsated Omega.
A few long, messy kisses later they were both rock hard again. The room was still filled with the scent of faint, hot wood, but no longer coming from the source himself.
Shane didn't know how to feel about that. About Rozanov, holding his scent inside from the him. His instinct was bothered, wanting to search for more of the scent. But that's not something that one-night stands... one-time stands, do.
"Okay?" It took Shane a while to realize what Rozanov's referring to, before noticing he's grinding against his fingers on top of his entrance. Unconsciously inviting. Wanting them inside.
"Yeah, yeah, sorry... keep going" he groaned out.
Shane's sight, and mind from there focused only on the small ring of blue surrounding Alpha's dilated pupils. Rozanov clenched his nipple in between his teeth, and was rewarded with a moan coming from Shane's plump lips.
"Fuck, you're so wet, not gonna need lube when we fuck"
It sounded heavenly - inviting his future Alpha inside with no lube, but pure bodily arousal.
He hooked his legs over Rozanov's hips, pulling him in. Then, the finger entered him. His back arched with an exhale, and closed his eyes.
"Still okay?"
"Yeah, fuck" He pulled Rozanov in, and merged their lips in a messy, needy kiss, and in return received another finger.
Rozanov used his fingers like a fucking sex god, knowing exactly where to push. And fuck, Shane's legs were trembling, his back arching and he was constantly trying to breathe through his moans.
The Alpha not once stopped asking if everything's okay, and in between the questions he peppered Shane with praises about how good he takes his fingers, how beautiful he is, how prettily the noises come out his lips.
Shane felt more comfortable with Rozanov about his designation rather than with himself.
Rozanov sent Hollander to heaven, even if it was for the mere 5 minutes it took him to come on top of their stomachs. If this much stimulation comes from his fingers alone, how much...
"Shower?" Rozanov asked, scattering little kisses on Shane's sweaty and disgusting body.
"Yeah" Shane exhaustedly exhaled. "God why was this so hot?"
Rozanov just chuckled beneath his jaw, and kept tasting his skin.
Before the shower the Alpha opened up the windows to get rid of his scent suffocating the room. Now that Shane knew what the Russian smells like, especially aroused, it ached him to wash off the scent. Wash off the memory of their earlier activity clinging to his body.
After the shower, where Shane had to return the favor by gladly getting on his knees, both men lay in the oversized hotel bed for one hockey player.
"You shouldn't be smoking" he mumbled out while puting shirt back on.
"I can't smell you"
Shane had to think for a second if that was an answer to the accusation or just a swift change of topic. "Well yeah, I wear my patches and blockers. Not sure if you realized but I don't really wanna go around and advertise my designation", the words got more of an angry tone than he would've liked.
"I take too but you could still smell me"
Shane didn't answer to that.
"Is it safe?"
"Yeah. Maybe. I don't know, all that matters right now is my NHL career, and if that shit comes out, I'm fucking lost. So Rozanov, I need you to understand that you cannot fucking tell anybody"
"I will not" he searched for Shane's eyes to ensure he understands how serious he is about this. "It would just make my situation bad too, I shouldn't be messing with men"
At that, Shane stopped his frantic fidgeting with his fingers. Rozanov also has loads to lose. "Why? The NHL probably will still have you"
"The league doesn't matter."
"It doesn't? It seems like it's pretty important to you"
"No"
"What is it then?"
"Hollander, enough. I'm tired." is what Rozanov said after a string of Russian. He laid his hand down on the Omega's knee, slightly rubbing the pad of his thumb on the skin.
"Right. Umm.." Shane got off the bed, and gathered his clothes, "Well then, I should probably go"
"Meet up next time?" He exhaled smoke through his mouth.
"Uhh, next time?"
"When I'm playing in Montreal"
"Right"
Rozanov got up, and exchanged phone numbers between the two of them, as Shane stood dumbfounded watching the half naked Russian do as he pleased.
Before leaving the hotel room, Shane looked back, said "Until next time then" at which the Alpha smirked, and the Omega then fleed the den.
'Next time' they were supposed to talk, maybe end it. But now, both hockey players were not just sex buddies, (which was never supposed to happen) but the mutual secret keeps them stuck in each other's lifes. Shane's beautiful orbit of perfectness has now a floating chaotic Russian within, which Hollander obeys and follows too easily.
This is not ideal.