Chapter Text
It was pretty obvious something was up with the boys. It was their second night in Minnesota, and they had spent the day practicing for the big game tomorrow night. All day Shane and Luca had complained of a stomachache, but refused to let Ilya do anything about it. No dropping, no coddling, and absolutely no sitting out. They both popped a tylenol and ignored all of their needs while Ilya grumbled about it to their teammates.
“And I keep telling them, it is just going to get worse if they keep ignoring it,” Ilya complains to Troy as the team walks to the hotel restaurant for dinner that night, Shane and Luca lagging behind everyone else.
Troy nods and glances back at the pair, noticing their pale complexion and tired eyes. “Yeah…they look like they could use some rest, especially if they’re planning on playing tomorrow?”
“Oh they are. They won’t let me do anything to prevent that.”
“Seriously? You’d think Shane would at least try to see a doctor.”
“Mm, no, he has no common sense for that right now, because sickness makes him crazy. Both of them have fevers, and stomachaches, but suddenly I am crazy when I suggest they take break from practice today.”
“We can hear you guys, you know.” Shane grumbles from behind them, taking a few too many deep breaths when they finally reach the restaurant, like the short walk wore him out, which it probably did.
The whole group stops as Harris gets a table for the team, and Ilya turns around to face them, arms crossed over his chest.
“All of what I said was true. You two are being stubborn and dumb. You are clearly sick, and should have taken the day to rest.”
Shane flips him off and Luca just stares out into the space beyond Ilya, looking a little too green for his liking.
Ilya softened just a little bit, and put the back of his hand to Luca’s forehead to feel the temperature. “Luca, baby, why don’t you have some more medicine.” He fished the tylenol bottle out of his backpack and shook out a few pills, handing two to Shane as well.
Luca swallowed them easily but only managed to say, “Not a baby.”
Ilya sighed and looked them both over. “I do think tonight it would be good idea to have little time. That way you are nice and relaxed and feel better for tomorrow’s game, hm?”
His idea was immediately shot down by the two men, with a resounding ‘NO!’
He closed his eyes and took a breath. “You boys are killing me.”
---
Dinner went okay. Shane and Luca barely touched their plates but that was to be expected. Once back to the room Ilya tried to give them a bath, and maybe get them to drop, but Shane insisted he take a shower because he was a ‘big boy.’ Luca folded the second Ilya handed him his soska, and promptly threw up all over himself in the bath. Better there than the hotel floor.
After everyone was bathed and clothed, Ilya turned on a nice Disney movie for them to watch, and got them all tucked into bed. Luca was curled up in the pack n play on the floor, already whining about getting his bottle, while Shane laid flat on his stomach in the big bed, looking pale and queasy.
“Shanya, you tell me if you start to feel like you will throw up, yes?” Ilya demanded gently. It was already late, he did not want to clean up hotel sheets at this hour.
Shane didn’t bother to look up, just threw a backhanded thumbs up at Ilya and groaned against the pillow.
Ilya shook his head and turned to Luca. The kid was looking a little bit better after emptying his stomach, but now he was tired, hungry, and angry. Not the best combination for a sick little.
“Papa…”
“Yes, yes, I know. One second, malysh.” He hurried, getting the milk supplies out of the backpack and tossing Luca’s blankie and bear his way while they waited.
Once the milk was ready, Ilya laid on his side next to the boy in the pack n play, and held the bottle for him while he drank, soothing his fingers through his hair and humming softly, trying to help him fall asleep.
The earlier he got to sleep the better. As much as Luca wanted to, if he was as sick tomorrow as he was today, Ilya was going to pull him from the game. As a rookie, there is no need for him to overexert himself and play through it, especially because it was a regular season game and not a playoff.
Shane however, was going to be a different story. He was refusing to drop now, (though he clearly needed it) which meant that most likely tomorrow would be just as bad as today for him. But there was nothing Ilya could do if Shane decided he was going to play. The only time he could step in for Shane’s decision here, was if Shane dropped on the ice or before the game. Otherwise he was the assistant captain, and had power over his decision making for the game.
Luca drank about half of the bottle before falling asleep, which was unusual for him, he usually sucked it down, but Ilya cracked it up to the fact that he wasn’t feeling good. He kissed the boy’s hair and fixed his paci for him before very carefully standing and stepping over the low, but very solid, walls of the cot. He learned the hard way the first couple of times that those walls are easy to trip on.
Ilya climbed onto the big bed, where Shane hadn’t moved an inch, but he also hadn’t fallen asleep, and gave his husband a knowing look.
“Shanya…”
“Nope, ‘am fine.” Shane murmured, his face still smushed into the pillow.
Ilya exhaled for a long time and tried to keep his eyerolling at bay. “Since you will not listen to your own body, I will. Sit up.”
Shane groaned and took way too long, but he raised himself enough to slump back against the headboard and glare at Ilya.
“Good. Now, you will take more medicine, drink whole glass of water, have at least some crackers, then it is bedtime. And I will not force, but I think it would do you well to be little, hm?”
Shane let out a whine and a grumble, but let Ilya put a soska in his mouth before looking around for the tylenol and snacks.
Eventually he got Shane to do what he asked. Two pills, one glass of water, five crackers, and a very cute, ‘Papa cuddle with me’ later, Shane fell asleep. He was burning hot with fever, and breathing all over Ilya, probably spreading the plague he had, but Ilya didn’t care. Tomorrow would be exponentially better, even if they didn’t feel one hundred percent, his boys were accepting help even at their lowest, and that’s all Ilya could ask for.