Work Text:
Shane stood at the checkout window, accepting the packet of information (a very THICK packet) and instructions from the clerk. She sounded fairly bored as she explained the recovery information...leave the gauze in place for at least thirty minutes, rest, ice, keep the extraction sites clean, no straws, no lifting, no exercise, no eating hard or crunchy foods, no pop or alcohol...
Ilya was going to be super fun to deal with for at least the next three to five days, and possibly up to two weeks after the extractions. The not being able to do anything was going to drive him batty. And if Ilya was being driven batty, he would no doubt pass that on to Shane.
He zoned out a little on the dry socket information... they'd both lost enough teeth that he was familiar with not removing the clots to avoid it. He signed the appropriate paperwork just as Ilya was being walked out to the waiting room.
It only took one look him to know he was high as a kite. His pupils were blown and his eyes were glassy. He also had this dopy-ass look on his face that said he'd had the good stuff.
The dental surgeon explained everything went well, the stitches wouldn't dissolve, but could probably come out in about 10 days, since the procedure had been a little more invasive than usual. He'd have a followup appointment for that, and if they followed the instructions they were given, everything should be fine. Call if he spiked a fever or if pain worsened, and other than that, he was pretty much free to go.
"How're you feeling?" Shane asked.
Ilya gave him an enthusiastic double thumbs up and a bloody grin.
Shane laughed just a little before getting himself quickly under control.
"Oh, he'll be fine until the anesthesia completely wears off," the dental surgeon, a kind-looking guy in his early forties told them. "Then he'll want to start on the pain killers... PLEASE take them as directed."
Shane looked at the bottle in his hand. "Yeah. Not our first rodeo," he assured the guy.
"I'm just saying," the surgeon said. He was probably obligated to convey the seriousness of the situation to everyone.
"He tolerates pain pretty well. As you can imagine. We might not even need that many."
Ilya was staring at the light fixtures like they held the secrets of the universe.
"Make sure he takes them if he needs them. AS DIRECTED. No need to be a hero."
Shane nodded and took Ilya's arm. "Ok, dude. Let's get you home."
Ilya looked at him and frowned. "Wait. Why?"
The surgeon smirked. "Give it an hour, he should be fine. Till then... well, he's been having a good time. No idea who Jane is, but he likes her a lot."
Ilya sighed wistfully. "Jane's the best."
Shane's cheek twitched with half a smile. "That's good." He turned to Ilya. "Jane likes you too, buddy. Thanks," he told the guy. "I'll get him home and get him settled."
After a few more instructions, Shane directed Ilya out of the surgeon's office, down the hall, and out the front door without Ilya saying another word.
It wasn't until he was getting Ilya into the car that he spoke again. "Where are we going?"
"Home," Shane told him.
Blinking rapidly, Ilya thought about it for a moment. "Do you know where I live?"
"Yeah. I live there too." He reached across Ilya and plugged his seatbelt in.
Ilya's head fell back on the headrest and rolled to the left, so he was looking at Shane. Well, not really at him. More like staring through him. "Aww, that is so nice."
Oh yeah, he was still drugged out of his mind. "Yeah, I think it's nice." He made sure all of Ilya's parts were inside the car and gently shut the door. Coming around the car, he got in and started it then glanced over at his husband. "Still good?"
"Where we going?"
Shane tried not to laugh at him as he backed out of the parking stall. "Home."
"Oh. Where do I live?" Ilya's eyes grew wide. "WHERE DO I LIVE? I FORGOT."
Shane gave Ilya a pat on the leg. "It's ok. I know where you live."
Ilya visibly relaxed into the seat. "Ok. Good. Ok. Good. Ok."
They were silent as Shane pulled out of the lot and started toward their house.
In fact, it got so quiet, Shane thought Ilya may have fallen asleep, until Ilya's head popped up off the headrest. "Are you kidnapping me?"
Shane sighed. "Yes, Ilya. I'm kidnapping you and taking you to your house," he answered playfully.
"Oh." Ilya sounded audibly distressed with that one word.
"Ilya, I'm kidding," Shane corrected himself. "I live with you, remember?"
"DO you?"
"I do."
"That is so nice."
It was quiet again for a little bit. Shane knew was going to tease the shit out of Ilya for forgetting where they lived. And, apparently, for forgetting Shane. That part was even funnier, as far as Shane was concerned. He had no idea why.
"Do you know my Jane?" Ilya asked when they got into their neighborhood.
"Yes, Ilya."
"I like that. My Jane is very pretty and has a good mouth."
Shane blinked rapidly. That's what Ilya remembered? Also, why was Shane not recording this? This was quality material for future teasing and harassment.
In fact, as soon as he got past their gate and got the car stopped, he pulled out his phone and flipped to the camera. Ilya's face was swollen already. He looked like a chipmunk. "Ok, Ilya, we're home now. What do you think?"
Ilya looked the house over. "Wowwwww. It is... very blue."
Shane snickered. "We painted it last year. This was the compromise color."
"Orange would be better," Ilya said sadly. "Can we paint it orange?"
"Sure, bud."
Ilya's face contorted. "No. Green."
"Ok."
"My Jane likes green."
"He sure does."
"You know my Jane?"
"Sure do."
Ilya's head flopped back on the seat. "Do you like Jane?"
"LOVE Jane," Shane assured his husband with another pat to the leg. "You ready to get out of the car?"
Ilya looked up at the house again. "Is this Jane's house?"
Shane managed to hold back an ugly laugh and keep his voice serious when he spoke. "Yes, Ilya. This is your house with Jane."
"I live with Jane?"
"You married Jane."
Ilya's eyes grew round, like this was the softest and best thing he'd ever heard. "That. Is. So. Nice." With each word, Ilya's loose and floppy hand whacked Shane's side.
"It's very nice," Shane assured him. "Now, let's get you in the house."
"It is very blue."
"It is VERY blue," Shane repeated. "Alright. I'm going to come around and get you out."
Shane kept the recording going as he came around and opened the door. "Are you excited to see Jane?"
Ilya's eyes grew wide in alarm, and then he let out a hot breath, in Shane's face. "Is my breath ok?"
"Smells like old blood," Shane told him honestly.
"I need good breath for Jane."
Shane thought back to the hookup era. Yeah, he'd never had any complaints about Ilya's breath. Huh. "You can rinse your mouth out when we get inside."
"What if I need to blow Jane?"
Drawing in a deep, steadying breath, Shane ignored the stinging in his eyes where tears were threatening to leak out and didn't laugh. "You can rinse your mouth out first, I promise."
"What if... he needs emergency blowjobs?"
Shane clenched his eyes shut, trying like mad not to cry with repressed laughter. "You will not need to give an emergency blowjob. I can say that as an absolute fact." He reached across Ilya and unbuckled his seatbelt. "Ok. Can you get out on your own, or what're we doing here?"
Blinking a few times, Ilya looked Shane over. "You know my Jane?"
"Yes, Ilya."
"You have freckles like Jane. I love Jane's freckles."
Shane did crack a smile at that. "Good. Jane loves that you love his freckles."
"And his mouth," Ilya reiterated.
"And his mouth," Shane repeated indulgently.
"And...other stuff."
Shane watched him through the phone screen for a moment. "What stuff?"
"Um... things."
"Ok."
"He is very flexible."
"Oh, so does that mean you're not going to make fun of his yoga anymore?" Good thing he was filming this.
Ilya's head rolled from side to side. "I love his yoga." He made a groping gesture with both hands. "I watch him from behind."
Shane slid a hand under Ilya's arm. "Alright. I am going to remember that. You ready to go inside?"
"Where are we going?"
Was he supposed to still be this out of it? "To go see Jane."
Ilya got a little misty. "I love Jane."
"I know."
"Shh. Is secret."
"I won't tell," Shane promised. "Let's go inside," he said, trying to get back on track. "You can see Jane."
"Ok." He let Shane steady him while he got out of the SUV. "Where are we?"
Shane shook his head. "We're home."
"Oh. You know where I live." He sounded so pleasantly surprised. "Is good. I do not."
WIth a roll of his eyes, Shane nudged Ilya, trying to prompt him to get out. "Ok, ok. We're getting you inside."
Ilya slowly raised an unsteady hand, and wiped it down Shane's face. "You are very pretty."
"Thank you."
"But I am taken," he said. "You are nice. I will fix you up with someone." His uncoordinated hand slapped Shane's cheek twice. "Someone very good looking and tall. Like Marlow. He likes guys." Ilya bent in and whispered, "he does not know he likes guys."
Shane made a face. "Not Marlow. No. Come on."
He got Ilya to start walking, but before they reached the door, Ilya stopped again. "Oh. I know a good one. But you will have to go to Montreal."
"Oh?" Shane really wanted to hear this.
"Pike. He is fifteenth best. But he has a smooth face."
Shane had no idea what that meant, or its importance to the situation. "Oh my God, no. He's married."
This caused Ilya to frown. "Oh. Yes. Maybe they will like a third?"
He was definitely clipping that part and sending it to Jackie. She would absolutely die laughing. "I don't think so, Ilya."
With just a little effort, he got Ilya walking up the brick steps. "What about..." Ilya wracked his addled brain.
"What about Shane Hollander?"
Ilya shook his head slowly. "He is a hockey monk."
Shane sputtered, then cracked, unable to hold back the laughter as he opened the front door. "How do you know that?"
"He is..." Ilya crossed the threshold and waved his hand in front of his face. "Mystical."
"Oh. Is he?" Shane closed the door behind them and started walking Ilya into the house, toward the sofa, a hand on the small of his back, directing him onward.
Ilya got this beatific sort of smile. "He has stars in his eyes."
That made Shane melt a little. "What about Jane?"
"Jane has a good mouth." Ilya sat down on the sofa, then pulled one of the pillows over toward him. "You know my Jane?"
"Yup."
Patting the pillow a few times, Ilya tipped himself over in the most uncoordinated fashion and put his head on it. "Jane is very nice. Jane will find you a boyfriend."
"I have a husband," Shane told him.
"Is it Pike?" Ilya closed his eyes.
Shane rolled his eyes. "It's you, dummy."
"Does Jane know?"
Pulling a blanket off the back of the back of the sofa and covered his husband. "Jane knows."
"Jane is not mad?"
"Jane is definitely not mad."
"I want to marry Jane. It will be like... Sister Wives," Ilya said with a yawn.
Shane bent and budged Ilya over a little so he could sit beside him. "Sure. Just like that."
"Are you a good husband?" Ilya asked around a yawn.
"I think I'm pretty decent."
"Oh. That's good. Am I a good husband?"
"The best," Shane assured him, brushing the hair from Ilya's forehead. "The funniest, of course. And the absolute best."
THE END