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Shane sighs softly as he shifts in his spot on the exam chair for what has to be the tenth time, kicking one leg out as he tries to find some comfort today. He's been waiting for the doctor for nearly twenty minutes now, all by himself. This is the first appointment in both his pregnancies that Ilya hasn't been able to attend.8,640
He doesn't mind Ilya not being with him as much as he thought he would. There's a bigger issue today than the empty chair beside him, not stinking up the room with worried alpha scent while Shane tries his hardest to not have a full-blown panic attack.
Yuna had made plans to take Lev to the children's museum so Shane could go to his appointment and Ilya could have his meeting without either of them having a toddler attached to their hip. It would be less stressful for Shane, and it would give Lev some one-on-one time with Yuna before the twins arrive. Besides, Lev loves spending time with Yuna. He adores both his grandparents fiercely, second only to his parents.
Still, Shane's a tad jealous that he can't join his mother and son on their adventure today. He's been getting updates, of course, because he told Yuna to send him pictures of everything. Luckily for him, his phone buzzes before he can start overthinking everything again.
Ilya was supposed to join him for this appointment, but the camp meeting came up, and one of them had to join it. Shane wouldn't have been able to participate in it if he had a regular doctor's appointment anyway.
Shane exhales loudly, leaning back in the chair and resting a hand on the top of his large baby bump. That's what this is. Just a regular doctor's appointment. Nothing more. Nothing less. His phone vibrates as another text comes in.
One of the twins kicks Shane sharply, as if she has some kind of intuition that her Papa mentioned her. Shane shifts his hand to rest right where she kicked. This twin - the one they have decided is their Isla - is always active while Inessa seems to follow her. Ilya likes to joke that Isla will be in charge of them one day. Shane doesn't think it's a joke.
Right on cue, the other twin rolls and kicks lazily in Shane's belly. Shane chuckles to himself, rereading the last few messages between him and Ilya. The only way to tell the girls apart currently is from their movements. It's a nice distraction from the reality in the little doctor's office.
A few weeks ago, Shane got the call that he had failed his glucose test. The call came right after a lunch where Shane inhaled an oven-roasted chicken and cheese sandwich with chipotle mayo that Ilya lovingly made for him, complete with two large pickles, crunchy lettuce, and the tomato on the side (because a wet, ripe tomato touching the bread sounded revolting to Shane, but not if it was on the side of his plate). Shane was a little surprised by it, but mostly annoyed.
He knew there was a risk - his blood sugar was slightly elevated at his previous appointment. He's 40, pregnant with twins, and high risk enough as it is.
Then came the three hour test. Shane was restless the entire time. At one point, he thought he might pass out from his anxiety alone.
Then came the waiting. It was barely 48 hours before the doctor's office called him to come in, but to Shane, it felt like years. This was his health and his daughters'.
In Shane's non-medical opinion, failing the first glucose test made no sense. He didn't eat a lot of sugar, even though his biggest pregnancy craving this time was caramel sauce. Just caramel sauce. Didn't matter what it was on top of; caramel sauce sounded delicious in general.
Vanilla ice cream, a rice cake, hell, Shane even thought about drizzling caramel sauce on top of snap peas while driving one day and had to pull over to the side of the road to watch an Instagram reel about homemade caramel sauce. He's not sure why, but he started crying when he got home, opened his cupboard, and realized there was no caramel sauce in the house.
He cried for an hour about the lack of caramel sauce while Ilya took Lev to the store to buy some. Shane wasn't planning to eat it, he just needed to know it existed in their pantry and was somewhere in his house for if he did decide to devour it.
He's typing out a reply to Ilya about how they should start looking into karate or soccer lessons for one of the girls, when there's a knock on the door. He looks up and his doctor, Dr. Collins, peaks her head in.
"Shane," Dr. Collins greets him with a smile as she closes the door behind him. It's not a pleasant smile, her smile is more sad than anything. Shane usually struggles with reading her face.
Shane can feel his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach.
Shit. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck -
"Hello, Dr. Collins," he manages to reply as calmly as he can with a quick nod.
"Your labs came back and I want to go over a few things together." She says, taking a seat across from him and setting her iPad on her knee. "The three hour test confirms gestational diabetes. To begin, we will need to begin testing your sugars after you eat at home and monitor how the twins are growing. I don't want to start you off on any insulin, but we can discuss other options. The most important thing is making sure your twins continue to grow."
Shane nods slowly, biting back his tongue. He's not happy about this, but he should have seen this coming. High risk and all.
"There's also something else. Your blood pressure has been elevated at the last two appointments and your urine came back with protein today. Have you been experiencing any headaches or vision issues recently?"
Shane blinks, thinking back to a few days ago when a migraine hit. He couldn't get out of bed for about two hours that morning, and he made Ilya keep the blinds shut. It went away, though - because he's pregnant. Pregnancy is weird.
"I -" Shane's voice breaks, coming out much smaller than he meant it to. "I thought it was regular pregnancy symptoms."
"Sometimes, it is. But it's preeclampsia."
"You're fucking serious?" He asks, not realizing how loud he says that. He's embarrassed instantly by his cursing and tries to adjust himself. It's not Dr. Collins' fault that he has gestational diabetes or preeclampsia.
(It's Ilya's fault. Ilya and his big-headed babies.)
(Well… it's probably not Ilya's fault, but Ilya seems easier to blame right now.)
"With how baby A is positioned a little lower in your uterus than I would like to see at this week in your pregnancy, on top of your blood pressure and the preeclampsia diagnosis," she begins gently, "I'm recommending strict bed rest until about thirty-six weeks when it's safe to induce. Potentially sooner if your blood pressure does not start to. Bed and couch only. No getting up unless you need to use the bathroom or move from bed to couch, starting today. "
Bed rest.
Shane knew there was a possibility of him going on some form of bed rest, judging by his age and the fact he was carrying twins, but he thought it would be like him needing to sit down more often.
Not strict bed rest where he can't even leave his house to take his son swimming or to the park or anywhere Lev would love to visit for an afternoon trip, just the two of them.
No cottage. No baby moon - not like he would have been able to go on one anyway between camp and extra monitoring. No camp next month like he and Ilya had planned, with Shane coaching off-ice as the twins happily stayed put and kicked over and over and Lev stayed beside him.
He could deal with not skating. He could cope with not being able to pick up Lev and hold him tight in his arms, letting his baby sit on his bump as he rocked him back and forth. Fuck, he might have been able to deal with no sex until the twins were born.
But bed rest, where he can't do anything at all? Where he can't go on a walk with his dog or have the freedom to leave the house when nesting becomes overwhelming?
"And I would be on bed rest until thirty-six weeks?" Shane asks to clarify. That's six weeks of bed rest, give or take a few days. Six weeks of lying in bed, watching as the world goes by and Lev and Ilya enjoy the summer. "Thirty-six weeks, is that right?"
His eyes start to burn and he swallows a lump that's growing in his throat. This has to be a joke, right? A joke - or a mistake. Maybe they mixed up his chart with another Shane Hollander who was also pregnant with twin girls and due in August.
As if Shane would be that lucky.
"Thirty-six weeks." Dr. Collins repeats with a curt nod. "We'll have to monitor you very closely. If your blood pressure keeps climbing, we may need to induce you sooner."
It should make sense, but Shane's mind is a mess. He knew his blood pressure would be an issue. He's 40 and pregnant with twins: both factors are considered high risk on their own. He knew that there was a chance of either diagnosis, but he thought if he ate healthy and followed the doctor's orders like he had been doing, he would be fine.
"I had plans." He mumbles. Shane made an entire list of things he wanted to do with Lev before the babies arrived. One last trip to the cottage, an adventure to Build-a-Bear so Lev could finally make his own, and maybe even a few days of museum trips.
All he's done so far is take his son to the zoo and attempt another skating lesson with him sitting on the sidelines. He wanted more time with just him and Lev. He needed more time that was just him and Lev before his son was no longer the center of his life.
One of the twins kicks hard, bringing Shane's mind back to the doctor's office. Shane's hand automatically raises to the spot where she kicked, rubbing in circles to calm her down. The twins always kick or move when he's anxious now.
"I understand it must be difficult, but it's important that you take care of yourself so the babies aren't born too early," Dr. Collin sympathetically says. She sets the iPad down and folds her hands in her lap. "But this is for your and the twins' safety and health, Shane. Bed rest is the best thing to do to keep both you and the babies safe."
Shane nods as the twins kick him at the same time.
He can do six weeks in bed or on the couch, as long as it means he gets to hold two babies by the end of it. He'd do whatever it takes for his babies.
"Well, now that the bad news is over, how about we see those girls?" Dr. Collins smiles as she helps Shane out of the chair.
Shane nods again, his throat suddenly feeling too dry to speak. He barely registers what Dr. Collins says as she demonstrates how the glucometer works. There's a referral to a specialist and an appointment next week, because now he'll have to do weekly appointments.
The only good part of the appointment is that Shane gets to see his twins. Inessa is moving more than Isla is, but Shane isn't able to smile as he watches his girls on the monitor: kicking, moving, and so safe inside his belly. The twins' heartbeats are strong and loud - a good sign. Dr. Collins calls them strong, says something about how they will make it to thirty-six weeks as long as Shane stays in bed.
Shane spends the remainder of the appointment fighting the urge to cry. His hands are shaking as he's given the ultrasounds of his girls. Usually, Ilya would be right beside him and happily snatch the pictures of their girls out of his hands. But he's not here.
Shane wishes he was. Shane wishes he didn't have to go home and tell Ilya the news all by himself, and he didn't have to explain everything all over again. The headache wasn't normal. He has to test his blood sugar at least three times a day. Worse of all, he has to tell him that all their summer plans are cancelled.
The cottage, their plans with Lev, and even camp. Everything was gone in a 45-minute doctor visit.
By the time he reaches his car, Shane's hardly able to contain himself anymore, huffing and holding back tears in the Canadian summer heat. He gets the car door open, gets himself seated, turns the car on because he's already overheated because he's always hot now, and the second he rests his hands on the steering wheel, everything he's tried to keep inside falls apart.
All the anger, all the frustration, all the disappointment he's felt in himself since he first failed the glucose test comes rushing out at once. Shane slams both palms on the leather steering wheel for a second time, ignoring the sting of the impact. The urge to scream rises in his throat, but he doesn't scream. Only sobs escape from his throat.
He must look like a fool. A heavily pregnant omega, alone in the parking lot, wailing over a diagnosis instead of driving home to his mate to tell him the news. Screaming, crying, blaming himself for being so stupid to be diagnosed with preeclampsia, as if he made the choice himself and it wasn't just something that happens during pregnancy.
It takes a full ten minutes for Shane's breathing to finally even out, and his heart stops feeling like it's beating a thousand miles a minute. He grabs a hold of his chest with one hand, the other landing on the bottom of his pregnant bump.
Shane catches his reflection in the rearview mirror. All the color has drained from his face. His face is puffy, eyes bloodshot and sunken in - but the puffiness is from the pregnancy, not from all that crying he did; that's what Shane tells himself.
Fuck.
Shane drags a hand down his face. He's not sure if he can face Ilya like this. Not that Ilya hadn't seen him this upset before in the past, but this is their daughters' lives at stake too. Preeclampsia isn't something people recover from by drinking more water or stretching. The only cure is to give birth.
One of the twins moves - a swift and sharp kick where his hand rests and a turn as she rolls. The other twin follows quickly with two rapid kicks.
"I'm sorry, baby girl," he apologizes, gaze turning down to his extended stomach. One of the twins (Inessa, he thinks; it has to be Inessa) responds with a low shift, as if she accepts his apology for something he has no control over.
The drive home is quiet. Shane doesn't turn on his audiobook or one of his podcasts. He needs to be alone with his thoughts, replaying the events from the appointment to himself. Twice, he catches himself thinking about how disappointed Lev was going to be when he tells him they can't go to the cottage or Montreal.
He was really looking forward to the cottage.
By the time he's pulled into the driveway, Shane's eyes aren't bloodshot anymore. His face is still puffy, but he can blame that on the pregnancy and not his crying. He's exhausted, not just the normal pregnancy exhaustion.
The engine is turned off before Shane's brain registers what he's doing. He's on autopilot: climbing out of the car, grabbing his keys, and closing the garage door as he walks inside. The twins both seem to be asleep now - car rides always left them tired.
Lev's not home yet, which is good. Gives Shane some time to talk to Ilya by himself and make a plan on how to tell their three-year-old son the plans he was excited about are no longer happening.
"Ilya?" He calls as he kicks his slides off - they're easier to take off and on at this point in pregnancy. He steps from the entryway into their kitchen, hand resting high on his bump to remind him that this is for them: his daughters. "Are you out of your meeting, baby?"
On cue, Ilya rounds the corner into the kitchen. He has a cup of water in one hand and some sweat beading down his forehead. Anya isn't following him like usual, which is weird. Shane looks over to the windows to see her happily zooming around the backyard without a care in the world.
"Hi," the alpha greets his mate with a raspy voice. "I was outside."
"Yeah. I can tell." He doesn't mean it to come out that bluntly, but he's too exhausted to soften his speech.
Ilya stares at him for a beat, already sensing something is off with his husband. "Shane?" He asks, concerned. "What is wrong?"
Shane exhales. Well, he was going to have to tell Ilya sometime anyway. "I have bad news."
"I also have bad news." Ilya shuffles on his feet, then sighs loudly as his shoulders fall. "I will tell mine first, okay?"
Shane raises an eyebrow at his husband and nods slowly. "Okay, sure, baby." He grunts, a little annoyed at his husband.
Ilya lets out another loud sigh, hanging his head down. "You will not believe this," Ilya begins, shaking his head as his curls bounce. "But Anya killed a squirrel in the backyard."
Shane can feel his lip start to wobble. He sucks in a breath as he tries to keep himself calm from an immediate meltdown. He doesn't want to cry again, but fucking hell, he can't control his own emotions anymore.
"Oh, Shanya," Ilya whispers, gently cupping Shane's face with his hands, "don't cry! I buried the squirrel. I gave him a very nice funeral! He is buried far away in the corner of the backyard, so Lev will not find his grave!"
"Fuck that," Shane says between rapid breaths. "I don't fucking care about a squirrel." He rubs his eyes with his fists to stop himself from crying, but it doesn't work. He starts sobbing, chest heaving as the meltdown begins.
It's fucking stupid! Fucking terrible!
"You don't?" Ilya asks.
"No!" Shane hiccups between sobs, shaking his head slightly.
Ilya blinks, a concerned crease forming between his furrowed brows. "Then why are you crying, moya lyubov?"
Shane huffs, throwing his hands up in the air. "I'm going on bed rest, Ilya!" He exclaims. "I have preeclampsia and gestational diabetes, and I'm going on bed rest until I'm thirty-six weeks pregnant and I can give birth to the girls safely! But who knows if that's going to happen!
Something breaks inside Shane the second he says those words. He begins to sob harder than he had in the car, his hands coming down to his sides. Ilya turns into a blur as the tears fall down his face.
His chest hurts, whether it's from the crying or the insane heartburn he's had for the last few months, Shane's not sure. He can barely breathe, chest heaving and shoulders falling, as he leans into Ilya's chest. Ilya automatically wraps his arms around his pregnant mate, mumbling sentences mixed in English and Russian as he tries to tell him it's okay, everything will be okay, they're okay.
They're okay.
Shane's not sure if they are okay. His daughters, his sweet daughters, are now at risk of being born before their lungs are properly developed. Before they're ready, before they're fully baked. All because
"Bed rest is not bad," Ilya murmurs once Shane's wails have turned into soft cries. The alpha presses a kiss onto Shane's hair. "Is just a way to keep you and our princesses safe until they're born. You do want to make sure Inessa and Isla are born healthy, yes?"
"Of course I do!"
"Then bed rest is what you must do. It is safest for you and our daughters," the alpha nods, reminding Shane too much of his conversation with Dr. Collins today.
"We can't even go to the cottage next weekend!" It was their one chance to go before the twins arrived. They hadn't been able to go during Shane's birthday because he had a doctor's appointment the day before and the n. "I promised Lev we would go to the cottage and the aquarium and one last time to the park before the girls come, and we can't go!"
He lied to his son. He promised Lev that they would get more time together before Shane's entire focus is on two little beings who depend on him for survival. That they would have more time together, just the two of them. Now, he'll have to tell Lev and watch his smile falter, and his hopes for a fun summer implode on themselves.
"I did everything right," he whispers into Ilya's shoulder. Tears wet the collar of his husband's shirt, but he doesn't care. He noses at Ilya's scent gland in an attempt to calm himself with the sandalwood and tobacco scent. It usually works, but it just makes Shane more upset. "I ate right. I drank those stupid kale smoothies."
"Shane, are you more upset about having gestational diabetes than preeclampsia?"
"This is serious, Ilya!" Shane yells, pulling back from his husband's shoulder. He puts his hands in his face and sobs loudly. "I did everything right for this pregnancy!"
He ate right. He got the proper amount of sleep every night - well, as much sleep as he could get with two hyperactive, big Russian babies growing inside him. He only went on short walks on the treadmill with his giant water bottle so he wouldn't get dehydrated and risk his unborn daughters' lives.
"I didn't get to try peas and caramel sauce," Shane whines, pressing his cheek into Ilya's shoulder. He wishes he could just lie on top of Ilya, press himself chest to chest with Ilya so that he could feel Ilya's heartbeat along with his, but his belly already makes it hard to hug his husband properly. He instead opts to cling to Ilya as best he can.
"That sounds disgusting!"
"I don't care," Shane sniffs, trying to stop himself from crying about the most repulsive craving he's ever had. "I wanted to eat it."
Ilya's glad Shane can't see his face, because Ilya is trying not to gag. "I would not let you eat that."
"It sounds so good, baby!" Shane groans with a slight whine in his voice. He slightly cringes at himself.
"It sounds like torture method!"
Okay, maybe peas drenched in caramel sauce sounds incredibly disgusting, but it was all that Shane had been craving for days. And he didn't get to try it because he wanted to eat healthy! Fuck that!
Fuck eating healthy because he now has gestational diabetes. Fuck trying to be the healthiest he is because he is still high risk!
A soft chuckle from Ilya breaks the silence. Shane looks up, cheeks flushed red and his lashes wet from all the tears. Ilya wipes a tear from Shane's cheek before leaning down to kiss his lips softly.
"I am sorry, Shane," he whispers as he wipes another tear from Shane's cheek. His frown is sincere. "I will make sure you are very happy while on bed rest, okay? Anything you want, you tell me, and I will get it for you."
Shane smiles and wipes his face with the back of his hand. "So, you'll take Lev and me to the cottage and say fuck it to my bed rest?"
"No."
"Asshole," Shane huffs.
Within forty-eight hours of mandatory bed rest, Shane realizes one thing: bed rest fucking sucks.
Ilya tries to make him feel better in little ways. He brings everything to Shane while he's lying in bed or on the couch. Lev copies Ilya, but what he brings is his toy cars or his stuffed animals so Shane can have "friends".
Sometimes, Shane puts on a movie for him and Lev to watch together, his son snuggled up to him with one hand on his belly and giggling every time one of his sister's kicks or moves.
Almost on clockwork, by midafternoon, Lev starts getting antsy and itching to play outside. Ilya usually takes him to play outside with him and Anya, meaning that Shane's left alone in the house.
Just him, alone, with the twins and his thoughts for a little less than an hour as Ilya and Lev enjoy their summer outside.
But that hour alone is the most painful hour of his day.
It's hard on Lev the first two days when Ilya takes him outside. Both times, he stops at the back door and looks back towards Shane, lip already wobbling. "Mama, play wif me too?"
It breaks Shane's heart. He sucks in a breath, pressing a hand to the side of his belly where a twin will kick or roll or just move any second now.
"Daddy has to stay inside, Lev." Ilya softly says to the toddler as s he slips Lev's shoes onto his feet. "Remembers? Daddy needs to lie down so Ness and Issie can grow big and strong like you."
Lev pouts, dark eyes not leaving Shane's from the couch. It makes Shane feel, honestly, like shit. But before a toddler tantrum can begin, Ilya takes Lev by the hands and steers him outside, Anya running ahead. Lev looks back over his shoulder one last time, his freckled cheek poking out in his pout, like he's hoping Shane will change his mind. He can't. Doctor's orders.
Shane wants to be out there, chasing after Lev with Ilya, swooping him up in his arms and listening to his son's beautiful giggles as he smothers him in kisses. He wants to take his son by the hand and run away from Ilya and the water guns.
He wants to enjoy the summer sun on his skin. Wants to go to the cottage with his son and husband, put his feet in the cool lake water as he whispers to their unborn daughters about how much they'll love the cottage, just like their big brother does now.
But he can't. He can't even get up from the couch and walk to the fridge without Ilya chasing him out. He can't use the treadmill or the walking pad or even pace around his house for hours. Shane has to just sit there, on the couch, and watch Lev giggle as Ilya presses kisses to the top of his blond curls.
By the end of that first week of bed rest, Shane is inching for anything to change.
He not-so silently hopes that Dr. Collin will see that his blood pressure results are now near perfect at his next appointment. Maybe they did mess up his chart with another pregnant omega's chart. Anything to get him out of bed rest and back to living his life.
Shane's so sure that bed rest is over that he grins while they wait for the doctor. He pats his stomach, teasing who he assumes is Isla kicking against his stretched skin, waiting not so patiently to be told the news he's manifested for himself.
"Your blood pressure is the same." Dr. Collins announces within forty-five seconds of walking into the exam room.
Shane's grin automatically drops to a frown.
"Not good?" He guesses. Ilya reaches out and sets a hand on his thigh, squeezing lightly. He's been like this for days. Just always touching Shane, grounding him, reminding him that he's here too. They're in this together.
"It's not terrible, Shane," which doesn't really mean much to the pregnant omega right now.
"I've been lying in bed all week, though. Shouldn't it have gone down?" Shane mumbles just a little too loudly.
"You do have preeclampsia, Shane," Dr. Collins reminds him. "It can fluctuate, but as long as your blood pressure doesn't go into a dangerous range, we should be expecting the girls at thirty-six weeks."
Shane bites his tongue from snapping at her that he does know; he remembers, because it's all Ilya tells him nowadays. You have preeclampsia, Shane, you must lay down, blah blah blah. He knows it's just a diagnosis, but that doesn't mean it doesn't sting whenever someone reminds him. Even Lev started copying Ilya, reminding Shane every time he tried to move that daddy has 'pre lamp see ya'.
Ilya watches him from the corner of his eye on their drive home. His hand finds Shane's knee, thumb circling in small motions as an attempt to comfort his mate. But Shane doesn't cry during the drive home or when they finally arrive back home - he just goes straight to the couch and lies there, eyes glued to the ceiling, until one of the twins starts pressing on his bladder.
At least he still can get up to pee.
That night, while Ilya is in the shower and he thinks he won't hear, Shane sobs into his pillow. He hates it. Hates that he's stuck at home and can only leave for the weekly appointments until his babies are born. Hates that he can't pace freely around his house.
Shane doesn't hear the water turn off or Ilya call his name. He does feel the bed dip slightly as Ilya sits down on the edge, hair still wet from the shower and his sweatpants put on half-heartedly when he heard his omega cry.
"I'm fine. Leave me alone," Shane lies with a huff when he feels Ilya's hand start rubbing his back in small circles.
But Ilya knows him too well. He climbs into the bed now, not saying a word, and pulls Shane's tear-stained face into his chest. The alpha rests a hand low on Shane's bump where their daughters have finally settled for the night.
"Talk to me," Ilya whispers as he presses a kiss to Shane's hair.
"I said I'm fine," he mumbles into the pillow, so cold against his face and wet from his tears.
"Talk to me," he repeats, voice vibrating against the top of Shane's head. "I am here, Shane. I am here. Is okay to talk."
Shane sniffs, moving his head up slightly to look Ilya in the eyes. "I'm just tired, Ilya," he confesses, voice quiet as he wraps his arms around his husband the best he can do with the belly in the way. "I'm so tired of being in the house and not being able to do anything with you and Lev anymore. I'm not even allowed to use the treadmill or go outside!"
"I know." Ilya tips Shane's chin up slightly. He leans in, presses a kiss to his husband's nose. "But you have to do what is best for Inessa and Isla, lyubov."
"I know, but I wish I could go outside with you two," he sighs, slowly closing his eyes as the sound of Ilya's heartbeat calms him slightly. "I just want to go outside, Ilya. I miss you so much."
He can't spend five more weeks feeling like he's serving a prison sentence. Ilya can't fix this with kisses and sweet words about how strong and selfless he is whispered in his ear.
So instead of trying, Ilya just holds Shane a little tighter, kisses him a little longer, and runs his fingers through Shane's hair until his breathing evens out. By the time Shane's dead asleep in his arms, Ilya has a plan.
"I have surprise today," Ilya announces proudly at seven in the morning two days later. He already brought Shane everything he needs for the morning: his prenatals, an ice-cold glass of water with four (FOUR - it has to be four) ice cubes, and pre-breakfast smooches.
Shane scoffs teasingly, wrapping his arms around his husband's neck and pulling him in close for another small kiss. "A surprise?" He asks, already interested in whatever Ilya has been planning. "You know we can't have sex right now."
Doctor's orders - and officially Shane's least favorite rule of bed rest. If he has to spend all day in bed, he might as well be getting eaten out or fucked sometimes. But nooo, no sex. No orgasms. Couldn't even masturbate anymore.
"No, no. Not sex. Better than sex." Ilya stops for a second to think about it before shaking his head 'no'. "Actually, not better than sex. But better than this." His hand gestures at the bed, the room, Shane, looking oddly frazzled for a second before calming back down.
"Better than me being on bed rest?" Shane asks, raising an eyebrow. "Whatever this is has to be amazing, right?"
"Well, maybe not better, but you will be happier when you see my surprise."
"Ilya, we can't have sex -"
"Not sex," Ilya corrects Shane with a bop to his nose. "Is not sex. I am not lying. Is not sex, or anything sexual. Is for you -" he bends down to Shane's level and kisses his lips lightly. It's a small action, but it makes Shane grin like a fool and chuckle softly. "And for Lev."
"For Lev?" Shane can't help but laugh as Ilya gives him a peck on the lips again. "What the hell do you have planned, silly?"
"You will see, lyubimyy. Is surprise, after all."
Shane rolls his eyes. Lev isn't awake yet to be excited about some kind of surprise that Ilya's planned, but the grin on Ilya's face tells Shane enough. It's a good surprise. Shane can tell by just his grin that he definitely spent a long time thinking about it."
"I will bring you and Lev to see the surprise when I finish it, but I will need privacy to put it together." Ilya hums as Shane runs his hair through Ilya's curls. "Think you and Lev can wait for me to set everything up?"
"Maybe," Shane teases. "But you better be fast."
"I will be the fastest."
Sure enough, at ten on the dot, Ilya ushers Shane and Lev into the bedroom and tells them not to open the blinds, no matter what. Lev pouts, but his attention span is soon turned to Shane when Shane asks him to come cuddle in bed while they watch a movie. He crawls into Shane and Ilya's, toy truck in one hand and a determined grin on his face.
For an hour, Shane and Lev sit in the bedroom, waiting not so patiently for Ilya to finish the surprise. The movie turns into background noise as Lev decides to start using the curve of Shane's bump as a hill for his trucks.
"Vroom - beep beep," Lev murmurs as he dramatically rolls the toy truck up the swell of Shane's bump. "Uh oh! Road close!"
"Road closed?" Shane asks, raising an eyebrow and glancing at his bump like there's a reason for the 'closure'.
"Uh huh, Daddy! Road close! Earthquake comin' through!" Lev announces, as if it's obvious. He sets the truck on the top of the bump and moves to lie on his stomach, waiting for something.
Almost as if they all share a sibling neurological link that Shane doesn't know, one of the twins firmly kicks under the truck's wheels.
"Ness kick!" Lev giggles after the toy truck falls. Even though he doesn't know which twin kicked, Lev always says it's Inessa. It's cute, sweet, and makes Shane excited to see Lev interact with his baby sisters once they're earthside. "Ness kick, Daddy! Diddya see that? Baby Ness kick my truck, Daddy!"
"I did," Shane smiles, wincing as his daughter kicks again before rolling obnoxiously. He'll have to talk with her once she's born, but she could be practicing for her future career in the NHL. He only hopes she and her sister, and Lev, spend their lives doing whatever they want. Even if it's not hockey.
"Again! Again, Daddy!" Lev giggles as he places the truck back onto Shane's stomach.
The other twin decides it's a great time to flex her own muscles and kicks outward for her audience. Lev shrieks with delight as he rolls onto his back, kicking his legs up with joy.
"Alright girls, calm down," Shane says to his stomach, smoothing his shirt over his bump. Both twins kick him. Shane rolls his eyes at his daughters. Not even out of the womb and already arguing with him.
"Surprise is ready, Shane and Lev~" Ilya calls out suddenly as he swings the door open. He's only wearing a pair of basketball shorts with his black Nike shoes, and his skin is shiny and sweaty. Shane has to hold in a laugh at how ridiculously handsome Ilya looks.
"Already?" Shane teases as he scoots to sit up. Lev jumps off the bed and sprints to Ilya, holding both hands up for Ilya to pick him up.
"I told you, I would be fast." Ilya teases back as he scoops Lev into his arms before blowing a raspberry on the toddler's stomach.
"Papa! Papa itchy!" Lev giggles, kicking his legs back and forth as he tries to wiggle out of Ilya's grasp. "Papa! Put me down! Down! You're too itchy!"
"Fine, fine, Papa will put you down, Lyovushka." Ilya presses one last dramatic kiss to his son's belly before dropping him onto the floor. He moves quickly to Shane's side, helping Shane out of the bed while Lev makes grabby hand motions to Shane's other hand. "You ready to see your surprise?"
Shane huffs as his feet hit the hardwood floor, resting a hand on his lower back as Lev grabs the other one. "Alright, show me this surprise you say is better than -"
"Shane. Lev is here."
"I was going to say better than caramel sauce, you weirdo." Shane scoffs in a teasing manner. Ilya grins at him, quickly stealing a kiss from Shane's soft lips.
What Shane expects is his favorite lunch at the kitchen table or maybe a new car as an early push present. Hell, he would even take the entire Centaurs' players and their spouses sitting in the living room for a surprise party at this point.
What he doesn't expect is to be taken past their kitchen, their living room empty, and no strange keys on the kitchen table. He doesn't expect Ilya to drag him past the couch and to the backyard doors, whose blinds are covered.
"Your surprise, moya lyubov," Ilya whispers as he leans in to kiss the side of Shane's temple.
When Ilya opens the doors, Shane blinks.
There's a small kiddie pool in their backyard with a few small pool toys and Anya's favorite tennis ball. The water looks to be just about ankle-deep to Shane. Low enough that Lev won't struggle with swimming, but high enough for him to have fun playing in the water.
A glass of water with four ice cubes, just like he likes his water, is on the table next to the chair. Besides the water is a small plate with apple slices and strawberries as a small snack for Shane and Lev to share. There's an ottoman next to the chair and the book Shane's been reading.
Ilya really went all the way out.
"Daddy! Look!" Lev starts pulling Shane's hand, bouncing on his heels. Lev can barely contain his excitement; he keeps looking between Shane and the kiddie pool, dark eyes glimmering under the bright sunlight. "It your surprise from Papa!"
"I see, Lev," Shane says, standing still but grinning widely at the sight. Lev's hand drops as he rushes to the pool. Shane doesn't have the energy to tell Ilya to put Lev in his swimsuit so he doesn't get his clothes wet. And besides, Lev's only this little once. Why not let him have as much fun?
Ilya's doing all the laundry now anyway. His problem.
"What's this?" Shane asks as he turns to Ilya, resting a hand on the underside of his bump. One of the twins moves swiftly, and her sister kicks back in response.
"Is not the lake at the cottage, but close enough. There is a pool to dip your feet in, snacks, book, and your water," Ilya confidently says. "Dr. Collins said you must sit and rest all day, so you are sitting and resting outside." The alpha fluffs the pillow once, twice, thrice to make sure it's perfectly comfortable for his mate and unborn daughters. "Anything you want, I bring to you. Anything you need, I get."
"I don't think this is necessarily allowed. Strict bed rest, remember?" Shane smirks, but he doesn't get up from the chair. Instead, he leans all the way back and closes his eyes, letting the sun beam freely down on him. Fuck, he didn't realize how much he would miss being outdoors during a heatwave until he was forced to be stuck inside.
"You are sitting down. You are resting, are you not?"
"Yeah, but Dr. Collins said couch and bed only -"
"I do not care; you are on staycation. And I am spoiling you. Husband orders over doctor orders." Ilya presses a kiss to the top of Shane's head. He brushes his hands through Shane's hair, pausing for a second as he notices for the first time how long Shane's hair has gotten in this pregnancy. It's barely to his shoulders, but his hair is still pretty long. "Scrunchie?"
"Hmm?" Shane looks up with a mouthful of an apple slice. He covers his mouth with one hand as he crunches. "Whadya say, Ilya?"
"Scrunchie. Would you like a scrunchie to put your hair up so it does not stick to the back of your neck?"
"Oh." Shane's cheeks burn, and it's definitely not from the summer sun beaming down on them. "Yes. I'd like that. Do you have one? If not, I can go back to the house. I think I left one on the coffee table yesterday."
"I have one." Ilya snaps a black scrunchie off his wrist. Shane blinks as he leans his head slightly to the left to look at Ilya above him, not sure why he didn't notice the hair tie on his wrist.
Ilya pulls the long black hair back and ties it in a ponytail in one swift motion, having done this hundreds of times before. His fingers trace the back of his neck gently until they are inches above the bond mark. Bending down, Ilya kisses the skin before nosing Shane's scent gland. The milky scent, mixed with vanilla and lavender, fills the air.
"Love how good you smell pregnant," The alpha mumbles into Shane's skin.
Shane rolls his eyes, then looks back at Lev, watching him throw Anya's ball from the kiddie pool. The tennis ball only lands a few feet away from him, but Anya still goes wild with barking and running around.
"Аня, принеси мяч!" "Anya, bring the ball!" Lev yells between giggles - just like how Ilya has done thousands of times before. "Мяч здесь, Аня!""The ball is here, Anya!"
Shane smiles softly at the sight. He's missed this.
Ilya bends down onto one knee and takes Shane's slides off for him, setting them beside the chair. He kisses his thigh, right where Shane's basketball shorts end, then moves to kiss the highest point of Shane's bump, and finally Shane's lips.
"Inessa and Isla deserve to feel the sun too," he mumbles, pulling Shane's shirt up slightly. Shane's bare stomach glistens under the Canadian summer sun.
His stretch marks glow under the sun as well, highlighting just what he's put his body through to bring not only Lev into the world, but Inessa and Isla as well. His body is proof of his growth, of change, of how beautiful it is to bring a child into the world. Changed so much, in fact, that Shane sometimes has a hard time remembering this is his new body that birthed one child and is carrying two more.
Shane stares down at his bump, resting a hand on the top of his extended bump. One of the twins kicks hard where his hand is, and Shane can just barely make out his baby's little foot, stretching his skin as far as it can go. "I look like a whale."
"You look like a pretty whale, lyubimy. You are carrying our twins and so beautiful. You drive me wild. Especially those stretch marks. I love them; I want to lick them." Ilya wolf-whistles.
"Ilya, I'm going to kill you."
"Okay."
Ilya bends down to the highest part of Shane's belly. He kisses the bump where their daughters are sleeping gently, softly, and ever so tenderly. Lips linger on the highest part of the bump before a tiny foot kicks upwards and gently hits Ilya on the chin.
"Malyshki," Ilya whispers to the bump, lips still pressed against Shane's bare skin. His beard tickles Shane's skin, making the omega smile softly as he plays with his mate's curls. "Your papa is trying to have a moment here. "
That makes Shane burst into a fit of laughter.
"They love you." he brushes a curl from Ilya's face. "Love you like I do."
"They better. I have been carefully making sure that your water always has four ice cubes."
"Ilya, it's me who wants four ice cubes."
"Damn."
Shane's grin goes wider. This may not be how he wanted to spend the last weeks before they become a family of five, but at least he has Ilya. A husband who is saying fuck doctor's orders and now is spoiling him rotten.
The twins start moving in his belly excessively, and Shane smiles slightly, fighting off a laugh. Ilya grabs a bottle of sunscreen from the side table and squeezes a dab onto his finger, tracing it slowly across the top of the bump before he seems to change his mind halfway through. Instead, he writes 'I ♡ U' just above Shane's belly button.
"You're silly," Shane says, feeling his heart flutter. If he had to redo his life, he'd still find Ilya and end up here. Every single time.
Ilya looks up from Shane's belly, eyes growing ever softer and warmer. "I am your silly husband," he teases before rubbing the sunscreen into Shane's skin. "Must keep our girls from being sunburnt."
"You're gonna put some on Lev too, right?"
"Soon." Ilya squeezes another dab of sunscreen onto his finger. He inches closer to Shane, close enough that Shane can smell the strong scent of banana, mixed with Ilya's comforting sandalwood scent. "I must protect my sweet, pregnant, very strong omega." He taps Shane's nose once as Shane pulls a face at him.
"You're being a lot."
"You love me."
Ilya leans in now, his mouth finding Shane's, and kisses him softly. He cradles the back of Shane's head, careful not to pull his hair out of its pristine ponytail. Shane melts into the kiss, smiling hard against his husband's lips for the first time in over a week.
The kiss doesn't fix anything, but for a moment, with Ilya's lips on his and the sun beaming down on them, it doesn't feel as terrible as it has.
"I love you," he whispers once Ilya's pulled back from the kiss, pressing their foreheads together. "Thank you for this."
"No, thank you, Shane." Ilya smiles back, giving Shane the same smile he fell in love with years ago. That soft, tender, adoring smile. "For giving me our family. For giving me Lev. For giving me our Inessa Rae and Isla Sofia."
They agreed on the names weeks ago, long before the health concerns became risks and preeclampsia ever crossed his mind, but hearing their daughters' full names come out of Ilya's mouth still makes Shane feel giddy.
"You used their full names," Shane whispers, holding back tears.
What has pregnancy done to him? He's softer than he was ten years ago, bigger than he was five years ago, but he isn't ashamed of the changes to his body and soul. Ilya made him this way - Ilya made him this soft-hearted, tender man. He's fallen in love with Ilya all over again and again since the day they agreed to have children. The first time he saw Lev in Ilya's arms, only an hour old and still unable to hold his head up or know who Ilya was, he fell in love with him again.
And now, he gets to do that for a second time.
"Of course." Ilya's eyes glisten in the sunlight, his hair like a golden ray of light. He looks like an angel - Shane's angel. "They are our girls."
"Papa!" Lev calls from the pool, making the parents turn in unison. Lev's soaking wet in his clothes, curls drenched, but his smile is bigger than it's been in a week. "Play wif me, Papa!"
"You okay for a few minutes?" Ilya asks in a soft voice, resting a hand on Shane's knee.
"We'll be okay," he whispers back, making sure to enunciate the 'we'. A little foot kicks outward and presses against his skin.
It's weird, but Ilya grins like a madman as he watches the unborn baby's foot ripple across Shane's belly.
"Tell me if you need anything," Ilya whispers, fondly and warmly, kissing Shane's already red cheek. "Lev! Papa is gonna get you!"
For a while, Shane sits there in the sun, book open but unread in one hand, the other on his belly as his daughters roll wildly, watching as his son and husband play in the little pool. He smiles when Lev sprays Ilya with the water gun, them both dripping in water and laughing manically, before Ilya lifts Lev into his arms and presses hundreds of kisses to the toddler's freckled face.
Soon, he'll get too tired and need to go back inside. Soon, he'll have to go check his blood sugar to make sure it didn't spike from the recommended gestational diabetes snack before downing water in hopes that he didn't accidentally overheat himself.
Soon, he'll be back inside, confined to the couch, but at least he'll be smiling and happy he got just one last summer day with Lev.