Chapter Text
The feel of the car rolling to a halt woke Ilya, whose eyes sprang open as his entire body shivered. The blanket that he didn’t remember throwing over himself slipped from his shoulders onto his lap. He coughed harshly to clear his throat, twisting in the passenger seat to find Shane staring at him, corners of his mouth twisted in a tender smile.
“Nice of you to join me on this trip,” Shane joked fondly. “I thought it was going to be just myself and the radio this whole time.”
Ilya’s cheeks darkened, flushed red with embarrassment. “Did not mean to fall asleep.”
“I know. One second I was talking to you and the next you were snoring like a freight train. Everything okay?”
No, everything was not okay. Ilya woke up early that morning to a faintly scratchy throat and a sniffly nose. He did his best to hide all the evidence, eating all the breakfast Shane made him and carrying all their bags to the car without struggle. Shane didn’t appear to suspect that Ilya may be coming down ill, which was a relief as this was the weekend they were going to the Hollander home to spend time with Yuna and David during the offseason. Ilya wasn’t about to ruin it because he was sick. He just needed to push through and no one would know.
However, that whole plan hinged on one very observant Shane Hollander not catching on.
“M’fine,” Ilya grumbled, kicking the blanket to the floor. “Need to take a leak.”
Shane nodded. “Okay, I’m gonna get gas and then I’ll be right in.”
Ilya gave a curt nod as he swung the passenger door open and stepped out into the Canada sunshine. It warmed his whole body as he arched his back in a massive stretch, arms poised over his head. He felt a slight twinge in his back that he hadn’t quite been able to work out in the offseason yet. Head shaking, he crossed the parking lot into the gas station and made a beeline for the restroom.
He shouldered his way in, thankful that it was a single restroom and not a whole row of stalls or urinals. He locked the door behind himself and grabbed a wad of paper towels, blowing his nose heavily into the rough material. It scraped against his nose as he sniffled a few times for good measures. It still felt full and threatened to leak around the edges, though there wasn’t much else he could do for it.
A few stray coughs burst free from his lips, echoing in the small, hollow room. Each cough shook his shoulders, leaving him hunched over the small sink. Eyes narrowed, he surveyed his reflection in the mirror and hoped that the paleness he saw was just his imagination playing tricks on him. Despite the nap he took in the car, he was exhausted, he very effort of washing his hands feeling like too much.
However, he’d be damned if he made this trip anything but perfect for Shane. He’d been talking about it for weeks and all the plans he had to show Ilya around his childhood town. Shane planned and packed so much in that Ilya doubted they’d be able to do it all in a single weekend. Shane was determined, though, so who was Ilya to say otherwise?
Knowing that he couldn’t say here forever, Ilya unlocked the door and stepped out, the bright fluorescent lights overhead doing his headache no favors. Squinting against the harsh lights, he wandered back and forth through various isles aimlessly. He didn’t try and grab anything, nor show any interest in anything. He just kept pacing with the increasing soreness of his throat his only companion.
“Il?”
Ilya turned his head at the sound of Shane’s voice, seeing him jog up with a bag of sunflower seeds in his hand. “You didn’t find anything?”
Glancing down at his empty hands, Ilya frowned. “No?”
“C’mon, I know you have to be hungry. Breakfast was a whole three hours ago,” Shane teased, shoulder brushing against Ilya’s own. “This is a vacation for you. I won’t even complain if you want to eat a gas station hotdog.”
The idea of a hotdog nearly had Ilya’s stomach churning. He doubted he could stomach something like that right now. However, he needed to grab something or Shane would become even more suspicious. He supposed he could grab something that may help his sore throat, something cold and flavorful.
Ilya drifted over to the slushee machine and poured himself one, ignoring Shane’s wrinkled nose. He wasn’t hungry, though he grabbed a bag of sour candy to go along with it. Maybe he could suck on it and it would help his throat. At least these options were more typical of him so that Shane wouldn’t ask questions.
The two placed their items on the counter, Shane adding a bottle of water for himself. Ilya was hardly paying attention, eyelids growing heavy once more. He just woke up from a nap and now his body seemed to want another. He was never one to sleep during the day no matter how late he stayed up the night before. A nap usually only meant one thing.
Ilya almost jumped when Shane nudged him to grab his items off the counter. He practically lunged for his slushee and sour candy, following Shane out of the gas station. They closed the distance between themselves and their car easily with Ilya motioning to the driver’s side.
“Want me to drive?”
Shane shook his head. “That’s alright. You still don’t seem completely awake.”
Ilya couldn’t argue as he swiped at his eyes to see if that would rouse him. He still felt like he could lay his head down on the window and fall right back asleep. There wasn’t enough sugar in the world that would help. Still, he took a few greedy sips of his cheery slushee, reveling on how it felt on his throat. Perhaps it would keep the most of the soreness at bay so he didn’t start coughing like he did in the restroom. Confined in a car with Shane while he had a coughing fit wasn’t about to help him prove that he was feeling fine for the busy weekend Shane had planned.
The two took their usual spots with Ilya sticking his drink in the cup holder and tearing open the corner of his sour candy. He popped a few in his mouth and held out the bag to Shane, who politely pushed it back towards Ilya’s lap. Ilya shrugged and alternated between sucking on a sour piece of candy and taking a huge gulp of his slushee. To his dismay, it hardly did anything to soothe the soreness, only gave him a brain freeze after one too many sips.
When they pulled back on the highway, Ilya set his drink aside in favor of rubbing at his nose with a curled finger. Soft sniffles started to sound in the space, almost automatic as Ilya fought to keep the mucus inside his nose. He wasn’t even aware he was doing it until Shane reached his hand into the center console and pulled out a stack of napkins.
Ilya looked at them in confusion.
“Blow your nose,” Shane instructed, eyes flickering in his direction. “Your sniffling is driving me crazy!”
Ilya blushed despite himself, lifting the stack of napkins to his nose. “Cold drink,” he explained as he blew softly, not nearly like how he had in the bathroom. It helped with the worst of the sniffling, though Ilya still felt like his nose was about to drip at any second. He settled for swiping at it with his wrist or cuff of his sleep, only sniffling when he also shifted to disguise the sound. Shane wasn’t stupid by any means, but if he clocked what Ilya was doing, he didn’t call him on it.
It didn’t take long for the soft hum of the radio and the lull of tires speeding over solid ground for Ilya to start to drift off again. His head pressed against the window as a shiver racked his frame. He tugged the blanket back into place around his body, only partially aware that Shane might be watching him. It wasn’t as unusual for Ilya to fall asleep in the car, though twice in the same trip without any attempt at conversation with Shane surely was. Ilya was just too tired and throat too sore to care.
Time passed by in a blur by the time Shane reached over to shake Ilya’s shoulder. It took a few attempts before Ilya woke, breath catching as a cough left his lips, partially covered by blanket clad hands.
“Easy,” Shane chided, face drawn in worry. “Bad dream?”
It was easier to lie, so Ilya nodded, knowing that Shane wouldn’t press him on it. For once his dreams had been peaceful as he slept, but Shane didn’t need to know that.
“You can sleep some more when we get inside,” he offered, ever the amazing boyfriend as he was. “I’m sure my parents won’t mind.”
Ilya shook his head. “I am fine. Better now.”
Shane looked less than convinced, but he didn’t call him out on it. Instead, he kicked open his door with Ilya doing the same, blanket wrapped in a ball and tucked under his arm. It was a Boston Raider’s blanket, which Shane always complained about him using. However, it was soft and familiar, two things that Ilya craved. It was probably only for that reason did Shane allow him to bring it on overnights trip and not banish it to their home where no one could see their affiliation.
Ilya rounded the back of the car to the trunk and began to pull out their luggage, muscles straining. He couldn’t show Shane just how tired he was if a few bags of luggage were enough to offset his balance. Jaw set in determination, Ilya unloaded the rest of the bags quickly before Shane could even join him.
“Looks like someone is eager,” Shane teased as he bent down to grab one of his duffles.
Ilya grabbed his own, chest puffed out in pride. He loved doing things like this for Shane, whether it was out of genuine affection or to prove that he was strong and capable, Ilya didn’t know. Either way, he would be content if Shane never shouldered another bag in his life so long as Shane kept looking at him with those beautiful eyes that made his freckles sparkle in the sunlight. Oh yeah, he’d do anything for that look.
Despite his weariness, Ilya managed to grab the rest of the bags without Shane’s assistance. Shane knew better than to argue when Ilya was in this mindset, so he came behind his boyfriend to trail a hand against Ilya’s lower back. Ilya tried not to shiver at Shane’s touch, to show just how much discomfort he was feeling. If anything he tried to lean back into Shane’s hand as they scaled the stairs side-by-side.
Ilya stopped at the front door, attempting to regain his composure and will his lungs not to betray him. Shane rang the doorbell and the two didn’t need to wait long before David opened the door wide, smiling when he saw the two men standing at the door.
“Hey, boys! Good to see you!” David brought Shane in for a hug before doing the same with Ilya. It was quite common now, but Ilya still tensed when David’s arms encompassed him. Ilya held his breath until David released him, a tight smile tugging on his lips.
“Hi, Dad.” Shane smiled at his father’s affection. “We aren’t late, are we?”
David waved him off. “No, not at all. Come in.” He reached forward to grasp Ilya’s suitcase and Shane’s duffle, which was set down when David hugged them. Ilya managed with the rest of the bags and carried them inside, following both Shane and David as he tried to push down his discomfort for the facade he was trying to keep up.
“Yuna, the boys are here,” David called as he led them into the kitchen.
Yuna ducked around the corner, eyes shinning when she saw both Ilya and Shane. She reached for her son, pulling him into the same strong hug as David. The two shared soft words before she moved to Ilya, hugging him a bit awkwardly as he was still holding most of their bags.
“Did you have a nice drive,” she questioned with a look between Shane and Ilya.
Shane nodded with a mischievous glance to Ilya. “Very, though Ilya slept through most of it.” He nudged his hip against Ilya’s playfully before waiting for Ilya retaliation.
“Did not sleep well last night,” Ilya protested.
Yuna’s face turned sympathetic. “Hopefully you sleep better tonight. Maybe it was all the traveling jitters.”
Ilya didn’t point out that’s all that he seemed to do in his life was travel, that and play hockey. He would agree to whatever he could to take a small break from the family welcoming as he needed to blow his nose desperately.
“These in your room,” Ilya questioned with a look at Shane.
“Yeah, down the hall to the left.”
Ilya gave a brief nod and started down the hall with their bags balanced in his arms and on his back. It was a relief to finally set them down in Shane’s room, which looked the same as he remembered except instead of a twin bed, there was now a queen. Ilya couldn’t help a smile from gracing his lips at the thoughtfulness. They’d shared the twin bed together before, but it had been a tight fit. It seemed that someone, either Yuna or Shane, decided to remedy that by replacing it with a queen bed. Although they didn’t spend all that much time at the Hollander house, it was still nice that they would always have their own shared space here all the same.
Once the bags were set down, Ilya located a tissue box on the nightstand. He closed the door behind him and went for the box, giving his nose a few harsh blows as quietly as he could manage. He cursed his hooked nose, the one that had been broken more times than he could count. Due to the impact and lack of traditional healing, any illness he ever got always targeted his nose. Even the littlest bit of congestion would turn him into a panting mess, nose unable to handle the very act of breathing. He feared he was marching off to the same pattern as even after he rubbed his nose dry, he felt the congestion seeping in once more.
Ilya threw the tissues away and sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. His fingers trailed through his curls, which were flatted on one side thanks to how he fell asleep in the car. He hoped he didn’t look as disheveled as he felt, a tightness gripped around his lungs and throat yowling in protest every time he spoke or swallowed.
Ilya wasn’t sure how long he was sitting there when he heard a knock at the closed door. His head lifted as he caught sight of Shane leaning against the cracked open door. “Ilya?”
“Yes, sorry,” Ilya replied quickly, hoping he didn’t sound as hoarse as he sounded.
Shane slipped into the room and closed the door behind them. “You okay? Thought you got lost there for a minute,” he joked warmly.
Ilya didn’t comment as Shane came to sit beside him. Shane’s hand rested over Ilya’s knee, giving it a tight squeeze. “No, just thinking,” Ilya answered after a moment.
Shane leaned over and kissed Ilya’s cheek. A smile spread over Ilya’s face at the feel of his boyfriend. There was nothing he loved more than Shane’s touch. A small voice at the back of his head warned him about Shane being so close, yet he couldn’t bring himself to push him away.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
Ilya turned his neck to look Shane in the eyes. There he found a flicker of worry, and something perhaps even deeper. It only took a moment for Ilya to realize that sickness wasn’t what Shane’s mind was going to, at least not physical sickness. His depression was always at the forefront of Shane’s worry as even now with him on regular medication that eased his symptoms, it was still the elephant in the room that Shane never wanted to bring up. Ilya sometimes wished that he would talk about it instead of tiptoeing around it, but then again, he’d never said that to Shane either, so how was his boyfriend to know? While stronger, their communication still needed some work.
“I’m fine, Lyubov’ moya. Only tried.” Ilya felt the need to add the last part as he needed something for Shane to fixate on. Perhaps he could pass this whole thing off as just being tired.
Shane’s eyes crinkled at the corner as he pulled Ilya’s head close to plant a kiss to the center of his curls. Ilya was partially relieved that Shane didn’t kiss him on the lips. Although it was just a sore throat and sniffles for now, he doubted that it would last. Futile as it was with them sharing the same bed and practically always in each other’s space, Ilya still felt the need to try protect Shane in some sense.
“Do you want to lay down for a little bit before dinner? I can catch up with my parents while you nap,” Shane offered, hand roaming along the back of Ilya’s neck and giving it a gentle squeeze.
Ilya’s eyes closed at the bliss of the touch against his tight muscles. “No need. I am fine.”
“I know, but this is your vacation too.” Shane stroked at Ilya’s cheek when he lifted his head from his chest. “You eyes look so tired. Maybe it’s a side effect from the meds.”
Ilya rubbed at the side of his face. “Meds….maybe.”
Despite himself, Ilya’s jaws stretched wide in a yawn. He didn’t want to lay down and take a nap like some child, but he had to admit that it sounded tempting. Maybe if he closed his eyes for a half an hour or so the soreness in his throat and the heaviness in his sinuses may dissipate.
“Okay,” Ilya finally decided.
Shane kissed Ilya’s temple before standing. “Do you need anything?”
Ilya shook his head as he reached for the covers and pulled them aside to crawl within. He was thankful he already kicked off his shoes when he walked in. Shane may argue with him sleeping in his day clothes in the bed, but he was thankful that Shane didn’t complain about it. He was frustrated with his body at how easily he was able to drift off.
When Ilya opened his eyes again, he didn’t recall where he was. This didn’t look like his room, not at all. The mattress was comfortable enough but these weren’t his sheets nor his pillow. It smelled of laundry detergent instead of Shane. It took a full minute before he recalled their car trip to the Hollander household and that he was in Shane’s childhood room. How long was he asleep?
Ilya groaned as he sat up in bed, blinking against the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm him. He sniffed experimentally and found his nose hopelessly clogged. The rest of his head felt stuffed with cotton too, a buzzing echoing in his ears. The soreness of his throat was back with a fiery vengeance, a cough rattling through his lungs that did nothing to improve how he felt.
Reaching out, he tugged a few tissues from the box on the nightstand and pressed them to his nose. He blocked each nostril in turn as he blowed, thankful that he was able to clear something out even if it just took the edge off from the worst of the congestion. Part of him wanted to stay in his room for the remainder of the evening and go back to sleep, but he couldn’t do that to Shane. He needed to at least pretend that he wasn’t sick. It may be futile in the long run, but he at least had to try.
Slowly, surprisingly painfully, Ilya rose to his feet and felt his muscles ache in protest. He pulled his hoodie from over his head and started to shuffle out of the room, socks sliding easily against the tile floor. By the time he rounded the corner of the hallway, laughter greeted his ears. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Shane laughing along with his parents while they prepared dinner.
Upon seeing Ilya, Shane instantly brightened. He abandoned the stack of plates he spread across the table in favor of joining his boyfriend. “Hey,” he exclaimed happily. “I was just about to wake you for dinner. How was your nap?”
“Good, good,” Ilya replied with a gravelly undertone to his voice.
Shane looked as though he wanted to press the matter more, but he dropped it in favor of taking Ilya by the hand and leading him over to the table.
Ilya slumped down heavily in his seat, wanting to offer to help set the table along with Shane, but not trusting his voice not to break on any syllable. It also didn’t help that Russian and English were milling around his head in a tornado of noise. He feared he was just as lightly to respond to a question in Russian at this point instead of English, which would unleash a whole new slew of questions.
“So, Ilya, how was this season,” David asked as he sat down a bowl of green beans on the table.
Ilya swallowed the lump in his throat. “Good, good. Will do better next year.”
“I think you did great this year,” David exclaimed before Ilya could continue self deprecating himself. “How many goals did you have?”
Despite his usual boasting, he didn’t want to speak anymore than he wanted to. “Will do many more next year.”
“He was amazing.” Shane beamed as he returned to handing out the plates while Yuna placed a stack of burgers on the table. “That hat trick you did against Buffalo was next level. In the same period too!”
Ilya felt his cheeks flame at Shane’s praise. There was so much he wanted to gush about Shane from his overtime victories to that last second win against New York. Yet, all his words stayed lodged in his throat for he knew that if he tried to speak, he would start coughing. All he could manage was the same goofy smile with a hand stretched out for when Shane sat beside him, already reaching to scoop a burger onto the bun that was splayed out on Ilya’s plate.
Yuna took her spot beside David and started to serve the green beans. “Ilya, can I get you something to drink besides water?”
“No, is fine,” Ilya answered. He gratefully lifted the glass to his lips and took a few tender sips, trying not to grimace at the way it struck his throat. A Ginger Ale like the one Shane had might be a better option, though he never drank it before, so requesting one now would be super out of the ordinary.
Ilya barely managed to keep up appearance through dinner, giving curt nods and short answers when necessary. He managed half a burger and some of his green beans, mostly moving the food around his plate to make it look like he ate more than he actually did. Stealthily, he pawned off the green beans onto Shane’s plate, relieved that the Canadian nor his parents didn’t question him on that. Usually it was Ilya that would finish whatever food Shane didn’t eat out of habit. It was rare for it to be the other way around.
When dinner finally finished, Ilya offered to help clear the table. Shane protested, instead suggesting that he make himself comfortable in the living room and Shane would join him there in a little bit. Ilya weakly protested, but a stern look from Yuna quashed any hope he had of helping.
Ilya rose to his feet and shuffled back to the living room, landing with a sigh in the middle of the couch. He groaned as he rubbed a furious fist against his nose. It was beginning to fill again after all the weak sniffling he’d done through dinner between bites. No one had commented, though he had caught Shane’s gaze wandering to him every so often. It could just be one of his usual looks, or it could’ve been so much more.
When the rubbing wasn’t sufficient, Ilya kept sniffling with minimal success. He wasn’t even sure how long he sat there waiting for the rest of the family before they all trailed in after one another. Yuna and David sat on the opposite couch while Shane flopped down beside Ilya, arm outstretched just behind the Russian’s shoulders.
Conversation flowed easily around Ilya. He didn’t add much to it, but he still tried to show that he was engaged. He nodded along when he needed to or answered Yuna’s questions as briefly as possible. It wasn’t until later that Ilya noticed Shane’s hand migrated closer to him to rub small circles against his shoulder. The faint brush of Shane’s fingers against him momentarily stole his concentration from where he was trying to abate the budding itch that had taken residence in his nose.
A sudden, sharp inhale was all it took for Ilya to realize that he lost the battle. Nose twitching like mad, Ilya crunched himself away from Shane, both hands steepled over his nose and mouth. “HrCSh’Tschoo!” Ilya’s back muscles spasmed with the force, the itch blossoming throughout his sinuses no matter how much he tried to will the sensation away. “HcshCh’TcsHoo! RHcsh’TcSHoo!”
“Bless you,” Yuna exclaimed.
Shane rested his palm between Ilya’s shoulders. “Babe, you alright?”
Ilya was too caught up in his own struggle to answer. He didn’t dare bring his hands down from his nose, the mess evident on his upper lip. Unfortunately, he still had to sneeze even after three impressive sneezes. He wasn’t exactly unused to his fits lasting this long, nor being this intense. A broken, irritated nose would do that to him. Still, he didn’t want it to happen in front of his boyfriend’s parents.
“HRchs’Tcshoo! Hrcsh’TH’Shoo!”
“Goodness gracious,” Yuna exclaimed with a hand on her chest. “Bless you, Ilya!”
Head shaking as his eyes fluttered, Ilya forced himself to his feet and trudged off towards the bathroom. Heat flared in his cheeks as he shut the door and locked it behind him. He grabbed an entire roll of toilet paper and held it under his arms, pulling out a whole length before breaking it off and forcing it against his nose to blow hard. Maybe that would chase away the worst of the sensation.
Sure enough, the feeling finally started to fade, though Ilya kept blowing until he was certain there was nothing else left in his nose to expel. It wouldn’t last, that much he knew, but if he could stop himself from having that sort of his display in front of Shane’s family, then it would be worth it.
However, the truth that he so desperately tried to ignore was staring at him right in the face. He was sick and now everyone would know.