Chapter Text
Their little dynamic had started almost as a joke before spiraling into something real, before any of them really grasped it. Luca was the team baby, so it was natural for some teasing surrounding that. Particularly the fact that he couldn’t technically legally drink yet since he was only 18 years old.
And then there was the simple fact that Shane and Ilya were both so much older, 8 or 9 years his seniors? Yeah. They were naturally a little more gentle with him. A little softer, a little more encouraging than teasing. They kept close tabs on Luca when they went out, always jumped to his defense when an opposing team got a bit too rough, didn’t let the others tease him too much.
So, really, it shouldn’t have been shocking that they were dubbed his “Mommy” and “Daddy” by teasing players. Still, it mortified Luca. Shane and Ilya were less mortified, more amused than anything, and they often played into it.
“Listen to your mama,” Ilya would say, a smirk gracing his lips when Shane told Luca to do something.
“Hide behind your daddy!” Said by an opposing player when Ilya had jumped to Luca’s defense after a hard check.
It stirred a lot of feelings for him. Made his tummy swirl with heat, a little bit of embarrassment or shame and a little bit of want too. And boy was that a lot to unpack.
The first time Luca had played into it was unintentional, he actually had spent a lot of time avoiding it like the plague. But, leave it to Young and LaPointe to get him so drunk he could hardly see straight.
They had been drinking together but Bood and Hazy had distracted his glorified parents, leaving lots of time for Young and LaPointe to get Luca to down shots in a corner booth of the bar. By the time Ilya had found them, Luca was hammered.
Flashback:
“Hi,” he hiccuped, giggling, as his eyes blinked up at Ilya.
“Hello, Haasy,” Ilya replied flatly, looking unimpressed. “Why is my baby rookie drunk?”
“It’s ’Kay, I’m not that drunk,” Luca slurred as LaPointe snickered.
The lights were so bright and blurry and mixing all together all at once. Pretty.
Shane materialized then, looking equally unimpressed. And really, how did he always do that? “Party’s over, let’s go Luca,” he said, gently pulling him from the booth.
Luca stumbled, feet uncooperative. Faintly, he registered the floor was sticky.
“Uh oh,” he giggled, swaying. He blinked up at them a bit dumbly. “Yuck.”
Shane exhaled deeply, his eyes closing for a moment before his hands slid beneath Luca’s armpits, hauling him up onto his hip. He splayed a warm hand across Luca’s back, patting gently.
“That’s enough,” he murmured.
Luca dropped his head to Shane’s shoulder, sucking in a breath as he nosed his shirt. “You smell gooooddd,” he stretched the word, yawning.
“Thank you baby,” Shane said, lips twitching.
Luca was squirmy, restless, as they waited for Ilya to get the car. He kept fidgeting, wriggling and tensing his body on Shane’s hip. Shane swayed a bit to settle him, letting one hand rake through Luca’s messy curls.
“Settle down honey, I don’t want to drop you,” Shane told him, voice soft as the car pulled up.
“I don’t feel good,” Luca whined, brows furrowed.
His tummy was all weird and sloshy like someone was shaking a water bottle around. Ilya stepped out of the drivers side, rushing to open the backdoor for his husband and rookie. Shane was gentle, sliding in and carefully buckling Luca into his seat.
“No, sit with you,” the pouty boy scowled. Lips all pink and shiny, pressed into an angry pout.
“Sorry, baby,” Shane murmured without really thinking, smoothing the blonde curls back from Luca’s forehead. “Safety first.”
Of course Shane, the stickler for rules, wouldn’t let Luca ride in his lap. Still, rude, if you asked Luca. Ilya must’ve climbed back in at some point because suddenly the car was moving. His eyes drooped shut almost instantly, too warm and drunk and sleepy to fight the pull.
He didn’t stir again until they came to a gentle stop, soft sounds of murmuring between Ilya and Shane breaking the quiet. Gravel crunched. His door opened. Hands unfastened his seatbelt and tugged him forward.
“Mmm,” Luca groaned, swallowing.
His eyes fluttered, taking in the little pin pricks of light throughout the sky. That would make a good painting, probably.
Someone pulled him up a little too fast, his stomach rebelled. The nausea climbed fast, spilling over before he had much time to process it. He retched, trembling, head tipped towards the gravel.
“Daddy,” he whimpered.
A sharp intake of breath sounded but he was swimming inside his own brain, too muddled and heavy to notice it fully.
He gagged again, coughing. Salty tears slid down his face. Someone thumbed them away.
“Shh,” Shane murmured, voice soft. So soft.
“Mommy,” he rasped, broken and small. A sniffle cut through the aftershocks. He swayed on his feet, certain he wouldn’t be standing at all if it weren’t for Ilya supporting 99% of his weight.
“Not now,” Shane hissed, above him. Ilya laughed in response, choked on it really, as if he was attempting to smother the sound.
“Is just. So cute.”
Luca could hear the smile behind the Russian accent. “He is like. Our baby.”
“He needs to go to bed,” Shane replied, exasperated. “It’s late.”
Ilya snorted a bit gleefully. “Yes, mommy.”
End Flashback
The next morning had been more than awkward, to say the least. Luca was painfully humiliated over the snippets of the night that he remembered. Shane and Ilya, for their credit, let him be and didn’t tease TOO much. But, the gears were already in motion. There was a sudden itch of want, a new desire unearthed. And they were going to get it.