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Ilya awoke to the sounds of Shane getting dressed to go running. Shane, ever the early riser, had been doing his best not to wake Ilya as he was finishing up. Ilya, already missing the warmth of Shane’s body next to him, had woken up not much later.
“Maybe I go running with you this morning, yes?” Ilya asked, stretching leisurely across the bed, watching Shane. It was their second day at the cottage. They were planning on spending three weeks here this summer.
Shane’s head popped up from where he was putting on his socks, not realizing Ilya had woken up. “Really? That would be great!” He smiled fondly at Ilya.
Ilya got out of bed, brushed his teeth, and pulled on some running shorts before joining Shane downstairs to put on their shoes.
The nice thing about being at the cottage during the summer was that they could go wherever they wanted without running into anyone. They jogged through the forest nearby, a path already carved into the floor by themselves and other people who clearly had the same ideas as them, but were never seen.
“How about we race?” Ilya suggested after they had been running for about 30 minutes, and were starting to turn and head back. “Let’s go up this hill and see beautiful view of the lake, and race back down to the cottage. Loser has to make lunch.” He wiggled his eyebrows at Shane, suggesting there was more to this bet than he let on.
“I don’t know,” Shane said, coming to a stop beside him. “There’s no path where you’re pointing, even back down to the cottage from that viewpoint.”
Ilya could feel a bead of sweat roll between his bare shoulder blades and down his back as he was mapping the route in his mind. “Come on,” he grinned, already taking off, mind set on winning. He could hear Shane picking up speed behind him. He knew he would take the bait, never one to back down from a challenge.
They crashed through trees, flinging dirt from underneath their shoes, throwing their arms out wide, trying to block each other from getting up the hill first. Anyone watching would say it was a tie, but Ilya knew he got there first.
Panting in the clearing, they both stood looking out over the lake. The sun had risen more since they left this morning and was now casting rays of light glittering over the water.
“I won,” Ilya panted, threading his fingers through Shane’s, wiping sweat off his brow with the back of his other hand.
“Oh, bullshit!” Shane laughed, slapping his hand away. “You cheated! You kept trying to push me backwards, but I wouldn’t let you.”
They both laughed and looked out over the water again. Ilya’s arm snaking around Shane’s waist. This time, he didn’t get smacked away. He loved playing around with Shane like this. Totally unguarded, just getting to let loose and be themselves.
“Okay,” he said, slapping Shane lightly on the stomach. “Race you back down.” And without another glance back, he took off. He went racing through the trees, not even bothering to check if Shane was behind him. He could feel that he was moving too fast, unable to slow down. And that’s when gravity went ahead and took care of that situation for him.
“Blyat!” His foot caught the root of a tree sticking up, and he went tumbling, ass over teakettle through the forest, landing on his back unceremoniously at the bottom of the hill in a patch of green leaves.
He lay there for a moment, catching his breath, mentally checking in with himself. Head still on, arms and legs still attached, ankle really sore but not broken. I will survive.
Shane arrived a few moments later, kicking up leaves and dirt, but in a much better presentation than Ilya had. “Oh my god,” he said, coming to a stop next to Ilya’s head. “I saw all of that. Are you alright?”
Ilya was looking at him upside down through his sunglasses and was about to answer him when he saw Shane’s eyes widen to the size of dinner plates.
“Holy shit!” He exclaimed, running around Ilya and holding out a hand, motioning for him to get up quickly. “Get up, get up! I think that’s poison ivy!”
“Bozhe,” Ilya whispered as he took his hand and stood up, only putting some pressure on his right ankle. “I have never seen poison ivy.”
“Me either,” Shane said, crouching down to look closer, but not touching it. “But I’ve heard they grow in groups of three, and that’s what this looks like.” He walked back to Ilya, inspecting his back. “It looks like half of your back and your upper right arm landed in it. And you have some stuck to you.” Shane frowned and looked around for a stick to scrape the leaves off of Ilya’s back.
Ilya closed his eyes as Shane knocked the leaves off and hoped this was not poison ivy, just some harmless leaf in the forest. Thankful they had decided to leave Anya with Harris for the summer so she could spend some time with their dogs. She could’ve been tangled up with Ilya in his fall.
“Alright, let’s get you home. Can you walk?” Shane asked, still scanning Ilya for more leaves, their race all but forgotten.
Ilya tested the weight on his ankle cautiously. “Ah, probably slowly.” He hissed in pain on the first real step, but the rest were marginally easier as they got moving. He would’ve liked to have Shane’s arm around him to support him, but he could understand Shane’s caution and not wanting to touch anything that could have come in contact with poison ivy. If that’s what it was. Surely not, though.
“We’re not too far,” Shane assured him. “You made sure to get as close to the cottage as you could when you fell the whole way down the hill.”
Ilya looked over from where he had been keeping a focused stare on the path in front of him to look at Shane, who had a cheeky little smirk on his face as he chirped at Ilya. “Wow-“ he started, a grin forming on his face, too.
“Hey, I’m the one who said it wasn’t a good idea,” he chuckled.
“Yes, but you went along with my hair-brained scheme. You’re supposed to be keeping me in check.” Ilya sighed in relief when the cottage came into view.
“I don’t think anyone has learned how to do that. You are a certified agent of chaos,” Shane said, picking up his speed so he could grab the door for Ilya.
Ilya, tired and sore from falling down the hill and trudging home, angled for the couch, ready to flop down.
“Ah-ah, shorts immediately in the trash and go take a shower. I don’t want anything that’s touched poison ivy touching anything in the house.”
“Might,” Ilya retorted, pulling his shorts off, heading to the trash can.
“What?”
“Might be poison ivy. We do not know for sure.” Ilya retorted, tired and now wanting to argue with everything.
“Okay, well, just in case it was, go take a shower.” Shane was not going to budge, and all Ilya wanted to do was get off his ankle and lie down. “I’ve heard it can take like two hours to appear,” Shane added, already digging through the medicine cabinet as Ilya went into their room.
~~~~~~
After Ilya had showered, he lay on the couch with Shane, finally allowed to be near him again. Shane had made him an ice pack for his ankle, and they watched a movie into the afternoon.
After the movie, Shane made Ilya sit up and take his shirt off, inspecting his back and shoulder for any signs of rash.
“Nothing,” he said, almost sounding confused.
“Really?” Ilya asked, trying to turn his arm and shoulder over to get a look.
“Yeah,” Shane continued. “It’s been four hours. Nothing but some little scrapes and cuts from falling.” Shane smoothed the shirt back down over Ilya’s back, and they lay back down together.
“Weird,” Ilya remarked. He flipped the channel a few more times until they found something else to watch, leaning back into Shane’s chest.
~~~~~~
They really didn’t think about the poison ivy again. Just under two weeks had gone by, and nothing had changed. Until one night, after dinner, Ilya couldn’t stop squirming around on the couch. He felt like ants were crawling all over him. He kept reaching up to scratch at his neck, his arm, his shoulder, to no avail. That’s when he decided to just ignore it. He could outlast whatever it was that was bothering him. And that lasted all of five minutes. He started glancing quickly around the room, looking for the easiest thing he could grab to scratch himself with, when he caught Shane’s watchful eyes.
“What?” He asked, a little too much edge in his voice, one hand desperately going down the back collar of his shirt, trying to scratch an itch he just couldn’t reach.
“What is the matter with you?” Shane asked from the chair he was in next to the couch.
“Nothing,” Ilya clipped, trying for a different angle from the bottom of the shirt with no success. He let out a frustrated growl before reaching for the TV remote to shove down the back of his shirt.
“Nope, stop,” Shane said, getting up, trying to snatch the remote from Ilya’s hands.
Ilya reached backwards and held the remote away from Shane, kicking a leg out intentionally to extend his reach. This was a game to him now, even if he was in itchy misery. The move caused Shane to fall forward onto the couch and onto Ilya’s lap. “No, is mine now!” Ilya joked, holding the remote still just out of Shane’s reach.
“Come on!” Shane struggled to reach the remote, grabbing Ilya’s shoulder with one hand and hoisting himself up and over him, grabbing the remote away from him successfully. He looked at Ilya with suspicion. “What has gotten into you?”
Ilya tried to come up with a way to keep messing with Shane, but the incessant need to SCRATCH was crawling up his back, his neck, and his arm. And that’s when he noticed Shane’s gaze slip from his eyes to his neck, pulling the collar of his t-shirt down.
“Holy shit,” Shane breathed, gently running his fingertips over the skin. The contact made the hair stand up on Ilya’s neck. “Take your shirt off, Ilya.”
Ilya sat forward and pulled his shirt up and off over his head, the sensation of cold air on his itchy skin sending chills down his spine. Shane gasped when he could see Ilya’s back. “What, what do you see?”
“It’s gonna be bad, Ilya,” Shane said quietly, guiding Ilya to turn more so he could take full stock of the situation. “Almost your whole back is covered in little red hives. It starts on your right side, just above your lower back, and goes all the way up to your ear. It spreads almost across your left shoulder and down your right shoulder to your elbow.” Shane lightly outlined the areas so Ilya knew where he was talking about, and the sensation made his back arch away from the touch. It made him want to take a rake to his skin; it itched so bad. “Sorry,” Shane said.
“Fuck,” Ilya muttered. “It was poison ivy.” He turned back to Shane, shirt disregarded on the floor. “What do we do now? Why did it take this long to show up?”
“I-I don’t know,” Shane muttered, grabbing for his phone. Ilya knew Shane was already looking up how to treat the rash, when to seek medical attention, and anything else they needed to know.
Ilya, now free from the constraints of a shirt, was able to reach most of his back and scratch freely, the relief only present for a few moments before another area needed his attention. Scratch, scratch, scratch, scratch was all he could think. This was going to be miserable. “I’m going to die a horrible, itchy death.”
“You’re not going to die,” Shane said from behind his phone. “Stop scratching.”
Ilya leaned back against the couch in frustration, the fabric giving him an idea. He still hadn’t been able to reach the spot between his shoulder blades. Should he stoop this low? Using the furniture? He glanced at Shane, still researching and opening what can only be assumed was at least ten tabs on his browser. He shifted his body to the left and felt exactly what he was looking for. He shifted his shoulders back to the right, and it felt just as good. Stealing one last glance at Shane and apologizing silently, he scratched his back on the couch. And it felt goooood.
“Okay, it looks like we can-- Stop!! Stop, stop, stop!” Shane exclaimed, sitting forward and pulling Ilya away from the couch.
“I can’t stop!” Ilya pouted. “Is like torture!”
“I understand,” Shane said, grabbing the hand closest to him and kissing his knuckles. “But you have to do your best not to scratch.” Ilya groaned in frustration. “It looks like if it’s your first time with poison ivy, it can take two to four weeks for the rash to appear. I just looked up some remedies we can use. We can use cortisone cream for the itching, which I think I have in the medicine cabinet for bug bites. You can also take Benadryl, but that can make you sleepy. I have that too. And we can put cold compresses on the areas. Hot showers can feel good, but cold showers are better because they reduce inflammation and numb the nerve endings that trigger itching. Same thing with the compresses.” Shane squeezed Ilya’s hand. “We’ve got this.”
Ilya squeezed back, some of the frustration leaving him. He looked at Shane like he hung the moon, only hearing about half of what he told him, but trusting that he would be taken care of regardless. His brain was starting to override everything with scratch, scratch, scratch again, and it was getting hard to focus.
“It says we don’t need to go to the emergency room unless you have trouble breathing or develop a fever.” Shane stood up and went to the medicine cabinet, bringing with him the cream, a glass of water, and the Benadryl. “Here, take two of these and let’s go to bed. You might fall asleep, and I don’t want you to stay on the couch all night.”
Ilya took the Benadryl and went to their room, the large glass windows covered up already by the retractable window shade. He lay on his stomach, already wearing lounge pants, and waited as his husband got ready for bed.
Shane climbed in from his side of the bed, cortisone cream in hand, and knelt next to Ilya. He uncapped the cream and began spreading it across the irritated skin on Ilya’s back in generous quantities; the coolness of the cream dragging out a sigh of relief from Ilya.
Ilya turned his head so he could watch Shane work from the corner of his eye. He had that focused look on his face like he was watching tape, looking for any spot that needed to be covered and smoothing it over swiftly. A small smile formed on Ilyas's lips as he closed his eyes and felt his body relax into Shane’s gentle swirling touch; the cream deliciously sinking in and relieving him, for now, from the itching. Before he knew it, Shane had emptied almost half the tube of cream covering Ilya’s back, shoulders, and arm, and had mentioned needing to go to the store in the morning to get more, when Ilya realized he had drifted off and only replied with a sleepy “Hmmm,” in response.
Shane chuckled, turned out the light, and snuggled up as close to Ilya as he could without touching him and wiping off the ointment. “Stay on your stomach as long as you can so that sinks in and doesn’t get on the sheets. Goodnight.”
“Mmmmhmmm….” was Ilya’s only response.
~~~~~~
By the time Ilya woke up the next morning, the sun was already high in the sky. Not quite noon, but by no means early morning. He had, of course, flipped onto his back at some point during the night. He sat up and peeled himself away from the sheets. No cream had stuck to them, but the sheets wanted to cling to his irritated skin.
He walked to the bathroom and turned so he could see his back in the mirror. He was prepared to see little red dots covering his skin. He was not prepared to see that these dots had grown in size overnight, and the skin surrounding them was pink on the edges of the rash and reddening at the center. He ran a hand over his face and groaned. Scratch, scratch, scratch, need to scratch… He looked around, wishing they had a back scratcher, and his eyes landed on the tube of toothpaste, the hard corners looking enticing. And before he could make a decision he would regret, he turned on a cold shower, remembering Shane mentioning they would help. It did, but a cold shower is never fun, and the second he got out, the need to scratch started gnawing at him again. The towel was becoming too tempting by the second. He quickly got dressed and went out to meet Shane.
“Morning,” he grumbled, flopping down on the couch.
“Morning,” Shane replied, muting the hockey game that was being rerun on TV. “I already ran to the store and got us a couple more tubes of the cortisone cream and some other things. How are you feeling this morning?”
“Itchy,” Ilya replied flatly, absentmindedly scratching his upper arm, watching the screen.
“Let’s fix that,” Shane said, standing up. “I got you some Claritin that you can take during the day so it doesn’t knock you out like the Benadryl did last night. And Aveeno makes an oatmeal bath soak for irritated skin, especially for poison ivy. It might be nice to try that. And we can put more cream on?”
Ilya stood and kissed his husband. He was so overwhelmed with love for Shane in this moment. Then he turned so Shane could see how the rash had progressed during the night.
“Oh, geez. That does not look good.” Shane reached his hand out and felt the skin on Ilya’s back with the back of his hand. It was warm, but not bad. He then stood and checked Ilya’s forehead for any signs of fever with his palm.
Ilya began to pull away then, grumpy and just wanting the itching to stop. “I’m fine, moya lyubov. I feel okay, just itchy.”
“Okay, well, I know you just took a shower, but how about we try that oatmeal soak?”
“I don’t want to sit in oatmeal like a breakfast food,” Ilya stated, scratching at his back. It stung a little bit when he scratched too long, but he didn’t bring it up. It’s probably nothing.
“It’s not actually oatmeal, Ilya. It’s a bath mixture that has an oatmeal base, made from the grain. Come on, it’ll feel good,” Shane coaxed, grabbing Ilya’s hand.
“Fine,” Ilya conceded, walking with Shane to their bathroom. “But only if you join me.” He smirked. He was starting to feel a little needy and wanted to be close to Shane.
Shane seemed to consider this, not needing the oatmeal soak himself, and decided to get in the bath with Ilya anyway, the tub at the cottage big enough to fit two people.
Ilya closed his eyes and tried to relax as Shane used a cup to pour the bath soak over his arms and back from behind him, gently massaging it into his skin. The hot water and gentle massaging felt good on the irritated skin. He sighed happily and leaned into Shane when he felt him pressing little kisses into the areas of his skin that weren’t irritated by the rash. They stayed like this for over half an hour, until the water started to cool.
“I called my mom this morning and told her what happened,” Shane said, patting Ilya’s back down with a towel instead of wiping it and irritating the skin more.
“What did she say?”
“She said, of course, that she’s sorry to hear what happened, and that we should try using calamine lotion along with the cortisone cream; that it could help soothe your skin. I picked that up at the store, too.”
Shane got dressed, and Ilya put another pair of shorts on, still needing to leave his back and shoulders open and available to whatever order of creams, lotions, and compresses needed to happen.
And that’s how they spent the day: monitoring the rash and the redness deepening in his skin, taking one of the two antihistamines when it was time, putting on either the cortisone cream or the calamine lotion, and once that soaked in, covering him in cold compresses for 20 minutes at a time or until they went warm. Rinse, and repeat. Anything to keep the itching at bay.
~~~~~~
It was the middle of the night that night when Ilya began to stir in his sleep. Something didn’t feel quite right. In the haze from the two Benadryl he’d taken a couple of hours before, he couldn’t quite figure out what it was. He was sweating; he could tell that much. He tried to move from lying on his stomach, and the skin on his back, neck, and shoulder screamed; it felt like it had been pulled taut.
Maybe if he just ignored it, it will go away. Because that has always worked in the past. A few minutes went by, and the itching sensation started to return. Okay, ignoring it isn’t going to work.
“Sssshaaneee…” he mumbled, trying to get Shane’s attention, his eyes not even open. He was too groggy, sore, itchy, and miserable to do more.
His husband only slightly stirred. He wasn’t a heavy sleeper like Ilya usually was, but he was probably just as tired from dealing with this rash as Ilya.
Ilya cracked his eyes open to look at him and kicked a leg out to wake him up. “Shane!”
He startled awake that time. “What? What is it?” Shane sat up, clicking on the lamp, causing Ilya’s eyes to slam shut.
“I don’t know. It hurts. Something’s wrong. I’m sweaty…” Ilya tried to move again and grimaced when he felt his body respond the same way it had just minutes before.
Shane got up from the bed and pulled the blankets back from Ilya, gasping at what he saw. “Holy shit, Ilya. You have blisters now. There aren’t even dots anymore, just big dark-red patches.”
Ilya turned his face into his pillow, groaning in pain. “The devil leaves are trying to kill me. This is torture! It itches so bad, solynshko, and now it hurts too.” His eyes watered in frustration momentarily, but the pillow hid any evidence.
Shane put a comforting hand on Ilya’s calf, sitting down on the bed. Ilya never let his guard down this much, and being this miserable was chipping away at his resolve.
“Can you put some more of the calomine lotion on me, please?” Ilya asked quietly.
“Sure,” Shane soothed, grabbing some from the nightstand. He reached over and felt Ilya’s forehead. He could tell by how Shane’s hand tensed what he was going to say next. “Ilya, you have a fever.”
Ilya sighed and turned his head to look at him. “What should we do?”
“Everything said if you got a fever, we needed to seek medical attention. And with this blistering now and starting to cause you pain, I think we should go to the emergency room and see if they can help us.”
Ilya groaned. “No, I think is fine to stay here.”
Shane looked at him incredulously. “You can’t stop scratching unless you’re unconscious, your skin is swollen, and in pain, and now you’re covered in a bunch of blisters, and you can barely move. Oh, and you have a fever. But this is all fine to you?”
“...Yes,” Ilya replied, doing his best to sound like he hadn’t dragged his metaphorical feet answering that question.
“Come on,” Shane said, standing up. “Let’s get you up. We’re going.”
They quickly spread a layer of the lotion on his back to hold him over, but not too much so it wouldn’t stick to any clothes or the car seats. Getting up was painful, and Ilya regretted ever suggesting a race two weeks ago. Shane found an oversized shirt in the closet for Ilya to wear, something soft that wouldn’t cling to his skin and irritate him, or press on the blisters decorating his back, shoulder, and arm. Thankfully, none had appeared on his neck, and he could still wear his mother’s necklace.
~~~~~~
The emergency room was empty when they got there, thankfully. It was, after all, the middle of the night. Still, somehow, being the only two people in the waiting area, it took about an hour to be called back to a private room, and another thirty minutes to see a doctor. Ilya was practically vibrating out of his skin, trying to restrain himself from scratching on every surface in the emergency room waiting area, as well as the private room. Shane had his hand on Ilya’s knee the whole time, rubbing comforting patterns into his skin with his thumb.
The doctor examined his back, shoulders, neck, and upper right arm extensively, Shane watching from the chair.
“Well, Mr. Rozanov-” The doctor began.
“Hollander-Rozanov,” Ilya and Shane both corrected at the same time, eyes meeting each other quickly before returning to the doctor.
“Right,” the doctor smiled reassuringly at him. “I’m happy with how you two have managed to take care of this up until now.” Ilya smiled softly at Shane, his whole world, who had researched poison ivy and started taking care of this rash immediately, no questions asked. “But,” he continued, “because this has taken up so much of your back and shoulders, and with it blistering now, your body is having a hard time keeping up with it and trying to fend it off. That’s why you’ve developed a fever and some pain. We’re going to give you something to bring that fever down, and a steroid shot that should greatly bring down the symptoms you’ve been experiencing.”
Ilya grimaced at the mention of the steroid shot. He knew he needed it, but damn, he knew where it was going to go, and it wasn’t pleasant.
~~~~~~
Forty-five minutes, some ibuprofen, and a shot in the ass later, and they were on their way home. The sun was starting to peak over the horizon as they made their way back toward the cottage. Ilya had his eyes closed, his hand resting on Shane’s thigh as he drove, tired from waking up in the middle of the night and staying awake for hours.
They got inside and ate some eggs for breakfast before Ilya lay on the couch, ready for Shane to apply more cortisone cream on his back before he falls asleep.
“How are you feeling now?” Shane asked him, uncapping the cream and beginning to carefully massage it into his skin.
“Better,” Ilya sighed. “The shot is definitely helping. I don’t feel like crawling out of my skin anymore. Just kind of itchy every now and then.” He could tell Shane was being especially careful wherever there was a blister, but the massage felt so good it was going to lull him to sleep. Thank you, he thought he said out loud, his eyes already closed. He barely registered that Shane had finished applying the cream to his rash and was just massaging his arms, palms, and fingers as he began to drift off. He managed to scooch closer to the edge of the couch as he felt Shane wedge himself between his body and the cushions behind him. The couch was just big enough for the two of them to lay together, and Ilya finally fell asleep as Shane ran his hands through his curls.
~~~~~~
The next couple of days were a slow but steady repetition of the previous ones: an alternating pattern of switching between the cortisone cream and calamine lotion, cold compresses, and oatmeal bath soaks. Thanks to the steroid shot, the blisters went down, and gradually the pain went away; the itching was just a thought in the back of Ilya’s mind. Thankfully, even though they had only planned on spending three weeks at the cottage, they had all summer and didn’t need to be back to Ottawa until August.
Right now, they were lounging in bed in the early morning, Ilya finally able to lie on his back again. He looked over at Shane, lying beside him with his eyes shut, but awake regardless. He moved closer and draped his arm over Shane’s waist, his head resting on Shane’s chest. He felt Shane’s arms reflexively come up to embrace him, his head turning down to press a kiss into Ilya’s curls. “Thank you for saving me from the poison ivy,” Ilya sighed contentedly. “Ya tebya lyublyu.”
“I love you, too,” Shane said. “And, of course. I know you would do the same for me.” Shane waited a moment before continuing. “You know, if I had decided to race you down a hill in the middle of a forest with no clear path and tons of poison ivy.” Ilya could hear the smile in his voice without even needing to see it.
“You are never going to let this go, are you?” Ilya chuckled, reaching up to kiss Shane.
“Nope, especially because I won by getting to the cottage first and opening the door for you,” Shane said, eyes sparkling as he leaned in to Ilya’s kiss.