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Shane wouldn’t ever call Ilya a liar, but he knew when Ilya was bullshitting him.
I don’t even miss you that much, Hollander.
It's not like I'm still smoking.
Russians don’t get sick.
Shane could tell when Ilya was putting himself on mute to cough or clear his throat. Ilya wasn’t anywhere near as slick as he thought he was, and Shane could tell when Ilya went from loudly sorting his laundry to dead silence.
The Admirals were the first team to go down with the flu. Shane had watched as Eric Bennett had to be pulled off mid game, the cameras picking up his hacking cough from across the rink. All Stars weekend had been four days later, and Shane was sure that was how everybody had gotten sick.
Boys from Detroit, LA and Edmonton all dropped like flies by Thursday. Shane was sure he had escaped infection until Ilya had called him earlier that night and sounded congested, no matter how many times he said he was fine.
Shane suspected it was only a matter of time before he was sick, too. He'd upped his vitamin dosage, but he and Ilya had been all over each other in Tampa. Ilya had put his tongue everywhere; if Ilya was already sick, there was no chance Shane wouldn’t be going down, too.
At the very least, Shane was glad that if he did get sick, it wouldn’t just be him and Ilya, and it wouldn’t look suspicious. Having half the league out for the flu at least wouldn’t draw any attention to the two of them.
Small mercies, Shane supposed as Ilya went suspiciously silent again.
“You know I can tell when you mute me, right?” Shane asked flatly.
“I’m not muting you,” Ilya scoffed. “It’s a bad connection down this side of the house.”
“You know I'm seeing you in two days, right?” Shane said as he moved the broccoli from the pan to his plate. “If you're sick, you won’t be able to hide it from me.”
Ilya scoffed again, and Shane flinched at how phlegmy it sounded. “Good thing I am not sick.”
“Yeah, you sound so healthy,” Shane deadpanned.
“Yes,” Ilya agreed. “Soon you will see that I am big sexy healthy Russian who has never been sick a day in my life.”
“Do you have honey?” Shane ignored him. “Hot water and honey, as often as you can. And take those vitamins I got you.”
Ilya sighed, but Shane thought that it sounded like one of his happy sighs. Shane was sure he was starting to understand what all of Ilya’s sounds meant. He’d heard the happy sigh plenty of times, he thought proudly.
“Yes, I have honey,” Ilya said, his voice quieter.
“Maybe skip practise tomorrow,” Shane said gently.
Ilya hummed. “Maybe. One of the rookies wants help with their slapshot. I said I'd get there early to work with him.”
“I’m sure he won’t mind waiting a few days until you’re better,” Shane said, walking his plate to the table and sitting.
“You just want me out of practise so Montreal has a chance against me,” Ilya teased.
Shane laughed. “Oh yeah, I'm real worried about Boston.”
Ilya hummed. Shane listened as Ilya shuffled around in his laundry room, material rustling and the washing machine beeping.
“I can’t wait to see you,” Shane said softly.
“Me too,” Ilya said.
He sounded like he was smiling. Shane was sure he knew Ilya well enough to know that, at least.
“Will you at least see how you feel in the morning?” Shane asked.
Ilya said he would, but Shane knew that Ilya would be at the skate tomorrow. He just hoped he’d be okay for the Boston vs Ottawa game.
>>>
Shane was sick.
He woke up the morning of his game against Boston with a heavy head, a scratchy throat and an ache that stretched from his neck to his knees.
Ilya was at the airport, at least. All Shane had to do was make it through the day, play the game, and then he would be home with Ilya. They could rest together, and they could talk about all the little things that Shane had forgotten to ask about in Tampa.
Maybe they could have a hot bath together while they did that. Maybe Ilya would drink one of his extra vitamin heavy smoothies tonight. Maybe Shane could order some of that spicy soup from the Thai place six blocks over while they watched the replay of their game together.
Ilya was still adamant that he wasn't sick. Shane was too tired to tell him that he'd seen a video a fan had posted of the Boston team at the airport on Twitter, everyone looking pale and tired, Ilya at the back, coughing for the entire seventeen seconds of the video.
It didn't matter so much. Shane placed an order online for some chicken, broth, cokes and some of those wasabi peas that he'd noticed Ilya had in his kitchen when he was at his house in Boston. Then he added a bunch of other spicy snacks along with cold medicine, tea and a new tub of honey. He went to his indoor gym, doing a light walk while he waited for his food to arrive in the dark, hoping that he could work up a light sweat and help move the flu out of his system faster.
Shane flinched at a loud noise, realising too slow that his phone was ringing. He answered without checking the caller ID, sighing in resignation when he heard his mother's voice and not Ilya's.
"I sent you over a pitch for this company that does these vitamin drinks that would be good for us," Yuna's voice came through the phone. So loud. Shane flinched, keeping his eyes closed.
"Okay," Shane sighed.
"I know you have a game today, but maybe you can look at it tonight?" Yuna suggested. "They want an answer by noon tomorrow."
Shane hummed, hitting the pause button on the treadmill. He wasn't going to waste his precious time with Ilya by reading a contract that his mother had already read ten times over. "I'll try."
"Shane, are you okay?" she asked. "You don't sound good."
"I'm fine," he lied. "Just a bit run down."
"Have you got the flu?" Yuna pressed. "I knew you'd get sick after All Stars. Everybody else has. Did you see LA yesterday?"
"I'm fine," Shane said, firmer this time. He couldn't be sick, he was seeing Ilya tonight. He was just tired. "It'll be an easy game today, anyways. I'll just come straight home and sleep."
Yuna tutted. "It's Boston, Shane."
"They're all sick too," Shane sighed. "I saw it on Twitter."
"You're on Twitter?"
"They're sick, JJ is out sick tonight, Miitty might be out too, everyone is tired," Shane said, ignoring her. "It's gonna be a half assed game today either way."
"Like every other game this week," Yuna said sympathetically. "Can you play tonight?"
"Yeah," Shane said. "Probably won't be my best game ever, but I'll be fine. I have tomorrow off, so I'll just sleep it off."
"If you're sure," she said. "Let me know if you need anything."
"Thanks, mom," he said, hanging up and getting off the treadmill, intent on a scalding shower and a nap before the game tonight.
>>>
He could hear Ilya sniffle from across the rink.
Shane just wanted to force feed him oranges and tea with honey and wrap him in a blanket and curl up with him in bed. He hated that he thought it was so cute how red Ilya's nose was as he constantly rubbed at it, even if he was paler than usual.
Ilya had messaged him about fucking him over the dining table and sucking Shane's soul out of his dick, but looking at Ilya from across the rink, Shane figured they'd be lucky if they even managed to kiss tonight without needing to stop for air.
The game was absolutely terrible. The only saving grace was that Shane was definitely not the sickest player in the rink.
Shane ached every time he got on the ice. He could feel how slow he was, but so was everyone else. He started to resign himself to the idea that he might be sick when he scored a goal and breathed into shout in celebration and ended up sputtering and choking instead. He thought he heard Ilya laugh, but when he looked over at him, Ilya was coughing, too.
Ilya was pulled off the ice for longer and longer stretches, mercifully removed for the third period entirely. It was a relief for Shane, at least, to play without worrying that Ilya would keel over on the ice.
Montreal won 2-1, but Shane couldn't even bring himself to care. He let himself catch Ilya's eye as their teams filtered into their respective tunnels, blinking slowly to try and communicate how tired he was.
Ilya slow blinked back, and Shane felt a rush of calm that even in front of more than twenty one thousand people, the two of them had their own secret language that nobody would ever understand.
>>>
"Not a great showing today, hey, Shane?"
Shane blinked against the bright light of the camera. He was sure that voice belonged to Rajat Hagan from the Sun.
"Considering everyone is either sick or getting sick, I think both teams did a pretty good job," Shane said diplomatically, trying his best not to cough. He cleared his throat as quietly as he could, but he could see the sympathetic looks angled his way.
"How are you feeling? Are you planning on taking time off?"
Shane didn't even try to parse that voice or the insinuation that he would be bested by the fucking flu.
"Like every hockey player, we take it day by day," Shane said. "I'm sure with a bit of sleep and vitamin C everyone will be back to their best selves in no time at all."
When in doubt, speak in cliches and generalities, his mother had always told him.
"Ilya Rozanov didn't even play in the third period," someone said, not even bothering to ask a question.
"No," Shane sighed, deciding to give into the bait just a little, hoping that if he gave them a decent soundbite he could leave. "It was the quietest Boston game I've ever played."
He answered a few more questions, doing his best to keep the snippiness out of his voice before he was tagged out by Julianne from the PR team. Shane sighed when he got back to the locker room, half the boys sitting on the benches, still yet to make it into the showers.
"Okay boys," Theriault said, opening the door behind Shane. "Good win tonight. I know it hasn't been a good week. Rest up over the next couple of days, we'll need as many of you healthy to play Toronto on the weekend, okay?"
Shane nodded as Coach clapped him on the shoulder and left, making his way to his locker. He grabbed his phone and ignored the messages from his parents, going straight to his message thread with Ilya.
Lily [16:47]
Hurry up
So boring being home alone
If you're not home in fifteen minutes I will start our marathon sex night without you
Shane smiled as he tossed his phone into his bag, knowing there was no way anyone would be having sex tonight, coughing as he undressed and felt a chill zip through him. Why didn't they have heaters back here?
"I can't wait to get out of here," Hayden said, walking in from the showers and shivering. "Jackie made soup. I swear soup can cure anything."
Shane hummed, thankful for the reminder to pick up Thai on his way home. He was glad he had a stack of medication waiting for him at home. All he wanted was soup, Ilya, and that night time stuff that knocked him out. In that order.
"Could you imagine being on a roadie sick like that?" Hayden said. "I never thought I'd feel bad for Boston."
"I know," Shane agreed. "Fuck being in a hotel feeling like this."
Hayden said goodbye as Shane made his way into the showers, standing in there a minute longer than necessary as he breathed in the steam, coughing as he tried to clear his sinuses. He could hear the rest of the boys doing the same, and tried not to cringe when he heard the other boys coughing and spitting into the shower drain. God knows it wasn't the worst thing Shane had done in a locker room shower before, but he felt bad for the cleaners who would be coming in later that night.
He forced himself to get out, dry off and dressing quickly, thinking about being home. Shane was so close to being home with Ilya. So close. He couldn't let himself be sick yet.
>>>
Shane toed off his shoes as he walked into the condo, smiling when Ilya came in from the living room wrapped in his cosiest sweater and the thick winter socks that Shane always wore when he was home alone.
"You went shopping in my closet," Shane said.
Ilya scoffed, flinching when it turned into a cough. "You took so long."
"Sorry," Shane grimaced, stepping into Ilya's space and giving him a soft kiss on the lips. "They made me do media. Then I stopped for dinner."
He held up the bag of containers, nodding for Ilya to follow him into the living area. Ilya followed, sitting back on the couch as Shane unpacked the bag.
"Tom Yum, Tom Kha, red curry," Shane pointed. "Rice, veggies. This one is spicy, and I ordered this extra spicy, so be careful. Do you eat spicy food?" Shane asked, realising he didn't know the answer.
"Yes," Ilya said softly.
"Okay, so try and have a little of everything, but if you can stomach the spice, it'll be good for your sinuses," Shane said. "I'm gonna get spoons, you wanna just eat family style?"
"If we share food you'll get my germs," Ilya teased, reaching out to wrap his hand around Shane's calf.
Shane sighed as Ilya pulled him in for a hug, pressing his face to Shane's stomach. He held onto Ilya, running his hand through Ilya's still damp hair. He pulled back a little, pressing his hand to Ilya's forehead.
"How are you feeling?" Shane asked.
He could see the way Ilya's face twitched, probably deciding between telling a lie and telling the truth.
"My head hurts," Ilya said in a soft, sad voice. "And I'm tired."
"Okay," Shane said soothingly. "Have you taken anything yet?"
Ilya shook his head, both his arms wrapped around Shane's thighs. "How are you feeling?"
"Better than you, I think," Shane teased. "But I think tomorrow I'm gonna feel how you do right now, which is kind of like staring down the barrel of a gun."
Ilya snorted a laugh, pulling away when it turned into a cough.
"Okay," Shane soothed, rubbing Ilya's back. "We're gonna get down as much of this soup as we can, and I got flu medication. We're just gonna rest tonight."
He knew Ilya really was sick when he didn't argue. Shane grabbed spoons and ginger ale from the kitchen, sitting close to Ilya as he pulled the medication out of his pocket. He popped two cold and flu tablets into Ilya’s hand before taking two himself, cheersing Ilya with a wink before swallowing. He handed Ilya the spicy soup, watching out of the corner of his eye as Ilya flinched at the first hit of spice before digging in.
>>>
Looking after Ilya was kind of a dream.
Sure, Shane felt like shit, too, but Ilya was a lot sicker than he was. He let Shane wrap him up in his fluffiest blanket and take his temperature and bring him tea that was really more melted honey than anything else, and he didn't even complain when Shane said that they weren't having sex tonight.
But sick Ilya was adorable. He was clingy and sweet and cuddly and Shane only wished that he wasn't also sick so he could do a better job of hauling Ilya up the stairs to bed when he fell asleep against him on the couch. Instead, Shane arranged them both to lie on the couch, turning off the overhead lights and turning down the Minnesota game that was currently playing, holding Ilya close to his chest while he snored into his neck.
Maybe it wasn't the sexy, romantic reunion Shane had been looking forward to after Tampa, but somehow, it was even better. They hadn't even kissed yet, but Shane didn't even care.
>>>
Ilya fell asleep pretty much as soon as they demolished their dinner. Shane let him sleep for a while, heading upstairs to run the bath before he went back downstairs to clean up the mess of tissues all over the couch. He made sure to wake up Ilya gently, running his hand through Ilya’s sweaty curls.
Watching Ilya wake up groggy and confused made Shane’s heart clench. He thought about their conversation in Tampa and wondered when the last time somebody looked after Ilya was.
“Hey,” Shane whispered, pushing Ilya's hair out of his face and frowning when he realised how sweaty he was. “You wanna take a bath?”
Ilya perked up a little, smirking. Even sick and pale with his nose red and runny, lines from the throw cushion etched into his face, Ilya was the most beautiful person Shane had ever seen.
“Not that kind of bath,” Shane clarified. They hadn’t done that yet, Shane realised. He hoped that next time, they could play around with bath sex.
Ilya grumbled, his face falling. “So you won’t be in the bath with me?”
He looked so genuinely sad that Shane felt his heart break a little.
"I’ll be there,” Shane gave in. “But it won’t be a sexy bath.”
“If you’re there it’ll be sexy,” Ilya mumbled, his eyes drifting closed.
Shane laughed softly. “Come on, it’s running now. Let's shower first.”
Ilya nodded, letting Shane lead him slowly up the stairs and herd him into the shower. Shane turned the shower on to scalding hot, helping Ilya undress and stripping his own clothes off. Shane made sure to slow the bath tap, letting it run hot as he pushed Ilya into the shower, making quick work of washing themselves.
Shane felt his breath catch when Ilya nestled his head into the crook of his neck, soft little sounds vibrating against Shane’s shoulder as he washed Ilya’s hair. Ilya wrapped his arms around Shane’s waist, hugging him close. If it were anyone else, Shane would be disgusted by how tacky and sweaty they felt, breathing their germs all over him, but Shane realised that he kind of loved it. If it was Ilya, he loved everything.
That revelation would have been terrifying a few months ago. But now, holding Ilya like this while he inhaled the steam, his hand pressed to Ilya's chest to make sure he was doing the same, Shane just felt like it was right.
All of this was right. There was something so intimate about Ilya trusting him like this that made Shane want to cradle him like this forever. He rinsed the conditioner out of Ilya’s hair, careful not to get any in his eyes, and turned off the shower, pausing for a moment to listen to their heartbeats pressed together.
Shane was pretty sure they were synced up.
“Come on,” Shane said softly. “Let's get in the bath.”
He didn’t say a word as Ilya traipsed from the shower to the bath, leaving a trail of water all over the tiles. Shane couldn’t bring himself to care about mess as he turned off the tap, testing it and pouring in some bath oil that his mother had given him god knows how long ago.
Shane climbed in first, settling against the back of the tub as Ilya climbed in after him, sitting between his legs. Shane held him close, sighing as they baked in the hot water. Maybe it was too hot, but neither of them said a word. Shane just turned on the inline heater and sank lower into the water, making sure Ilya was comfortable.
“Hollander,” Ilya said softly. "Shane."
Shane hummed, brushing his hands down Ilya’s chest.
“This is nice,” Ilya sighed.
“Yeah,” Shane agreed quietly.
“It is nice being sick with you,” Ilya said.
Shane kissed the side of Ilya’s head and let his eyes close. “It is,” he agreed.
>>>
Shane only realised he fell asleep when Ilya’s snores jolted him awake. The water was still hot, at least, but Shane figured he should probably get Ilya into bed. He had no idea what time it was, but he was sure they were due for one last cup of tea and their night time medication. With any luck, they'd both get a restorative sleep and feel better in the morning.
Maybe they'd finally be able to kiss without coughing or choking.
“Ilya,” he said gently, rubbing Ilya’s arm.
Ilya stirred slowly, grunting softly.
“Come on, let’s go to bed,” Shane said.
“Bed,” Ilya nodded. “Gonna fuck you.”
“Sure you are,” Shane said, trying not to laugh. “Yes, so let’s get to bed.”
Ilya let him help him climb out of the bath, drying off quickly and following Shane into his closet. Shane gave him his softest pair of sweats, redressing Ilya in the sweater he had stolen earlier, and a thick pair of socks, pushing Ilya towards the bed as he threw on his own clothes.
"I’m gonna make some tea,” Shane said as he tucked Ilya into bed. “I’ll be back in five minutes, okay?”
Ilya nodded as he pulled the covers over him. Shane bent down to kiss his temple, taking a second to just look at him before he left the room, turning off the light and making his way downstairs.
The kettle had just clicked off when there was a knock at his door. Shane froze, debating whether to ignore it or not, when a soft knock sounded again.
His light was on. Whoever was on the other side of the door could surely tell that he was home. Ilya was in bed; he could just tell whoever it was that he was sick and send them on his way. It would be fine.
The knock sounded again. Shane made his way to the door, opening it a crack and balking when he saw his parents on the other side, smiling sympathetically at him.
"What are you doing here?" he hissed in a whisper.
Yuna frowned at him as she pointed to the containers his father was holding. “We caught the post game interview, we were worried. I brought you soup.”
“Sorry, did we wake you up?” David asked.
Shane glanced back into the condo, but it was completely silent. Maybe Ilya had already fallen asleep and Shane could get rid of his parents without anyone running into each other. “Um, no, I wasn't. I ordered soup, I've already eaten."
David took a step forward, but Shane didn't move. He coughed as he reached for the containers, keeping himself angled in front of the door.
“I don’t want you to come in, I’m pretty sick,” he said, trying to sound like he was worried about them.
“It’s okay, we got our flu shots,” David smiled.
“I just –”
Shane froze at the sound of Ilya’s loud, hacking cough coming from upstairs. He saw the exact moment his parents registered that someone was in the condo with him, his mother’s eyes widening in shock.
“Oh, do you have someone over?” she asked, faux innocence dripping from her words.
“Yeah,” Shane said, grimacing and rubbing his forehead. “Listen, I’ve gotta make tea, can you just give me a minute?”
He left them by the door, rushing into the kitchen and turning the kettle back on. Shane could hear his parents step inside, conscious of Ilya still coughing upstairs.
He wanted to tell them to fuck off, that he was busy taking care of Ilya, but he knew that wouldn't go over well. Shane hoped that he could give them a couple of minutes of his time, convince them that he was fine, and send them on their way. Then he could go back to looking after Ilya.
It would be fine.
“Sorry, kid,” David said as he opened the fridge and stacked the containers inside. “We didn’t realised you were indisposed.”
Shane snorted, which caused him to cough as he grabbed the extra large mug for Ilya, putting in two tea bags in and a ridiculous amount of honey.
“I brought you some medication, I wasn’t sure if you’d have a chance to get any today,” Yuna said, reaching into her handbag and depositing boxes, a syrup and a small tub of VapoRub onto the counter.
Shane reached for the VapoRub, kicking himself for forgetting to buy it. “Oh, this is great, thanks mom. I didn't even think to get this.”
He frowned as his mother whipped around, realising too late that Ilya was padding down the stairs, coughing loudly.
“Shane, you promised me tea,” his voice came, pouty and sad as he made his way down the landing. Ilya froze when he saw that Shane wasn’t alone, blinking rapidly when he got to the bottom of the stairs.
Yuna turned to look at Shane, her eyes wide and confused. Shane sighed to himself, wishing he had just never answered the door. He could have just run upstairs and hidden in his bedroom. His parents probably would have just used their emergency key to drop off the soup and leave quietly.
"Ilya was sick, so –"
"Ilya?" Yuna asked.
Shane nodded, beckoning Ilya to come forward. Ilya stepped into the main room slowly, watching his parents warily.
"Sorry," Ilya said, his voice scratchy, moving to lean against the centre of the kitchen island opposite Shane.
“My parents came to drop off some soup,” Shane explained.
“Oh,” Ilya said, turning away to cough into his elbow. “That’s nice.”
It was nice. They had seen him looking like shit on television and driven all the way from Ottawa to Montreal to bring him soup and medicine. It wasn't at all ridiculous to expect Shane to look after himself like the grown man he was.
I can look after myself, he wanted to say to his parents. I'm looking after someone else! I'm not a child. I've got this. Ilya and I have got each other.
Shane looked over to Ilya, who was looking down at the floor.
They really did have each other. They hadn’t gotten a chance to talk about what they were yet, but that was okay. They had time. Shane knew, even in Tampa, that what they had was real. It was tangible and solid, even if they didn't have a label yet. But it was theirs.
"This is Ilya," Shane introduced, nodding to Ilya. "Rozanov. But you knew that already."
"Hi," Ilya said with a slow blink and what Shane thought was probably meant to be a polite nod.
David nodded back with a smile, but Yuna hadn't moved, her eyes flicking back and forth between him and Ilya.
“Here,” Shane said, pouring him his tea and passing it to Ilya.
Ilya smiled and took it with a quiet thank you, sipping it gingerly. “Can I have more honey?” he asked, holding his mug out.
Shane did his best not to roll his eyes. The squeeze bottle he’d bought that morning was almost half empty already.
“Sure,” he said instead, grabbing the honey and reaching over to pour some more in. Shane realised too late that Ilya was just making fun of him, smirking as Shane sighed and recapped the honey.
He chanced a look at his parents, who were watching Ilya curiously. He knew they must have a million questions but Shane didn’t have any answers for them tonight.
“Are you driving back home tonight?” Shane asked them.
He caught the amused look on Ilya’s face that he covered up with a cough. Yuna looked offended, but David smiled at him.
“Yes,” he said. “We just came to check on you.”
Shane could tell from his mother’s face that David was lying. He sighed, looking at Ilya, who was smiling softly at him.
“You can stay here if you want,” Shane said petulantly. He heard Ilya cough again.
“If you’re sure,” Yuna said, but her voice made it clear that the offer had been expected.
“It's fine. We’re going to bed, though,” Shane said, rounding the counter. "Don't wake us up."
He stopped next to his mother, grabbing the VapoRub and tucking it into his pocket before he looped his free arm around Ilya's shoulders and steered him to the stairs. Ilya was tired enough to let him.
“Okay, well, we’ll uh –”
“Take the spare room,” Shane said tiredly, not looking back at his parents. “We can talk in the morning.”
He knew what he was admitting to. His mother knew his condo was only a two bedroom.
He knew that she’d be making all sorts of assumptions about why Ilya was here.
He knew that he wasn’t helping himself by wrapping his arm around Ilya’s waist and guiding him up the stairs.
He knew that he'd basically admitted that he and Ilya were sharing a bed.
He just didn't fucking care right now.
Shane shut the door once they were in the bedroom, putting their cups of tea down on the nightstand and pushing Ilya to sit up against the headboard.
“So,” Ilya said as Shane sat next to him, pulling the VapoRub out of his pocket.
“Lift up your shirt,” Shane said.
Ilya lit up as he pulled his shirt up to his neck, smirking as Shane dipped his fingers into the tub and spreading it across Ilya’s chest.
“Are you going to tell them?” Ilya asked quietly.
Shane shrugged. He couldn’t really think about anything other than Ilya’s warm skin beneath his hands, his ab muscles twitching as Shane spread the VapoRub across his stomach.
“My lungs are up here, Hollander,” Ilya teased.
Shane laughed softly as he made his way back up Ilya’s chest, kneading at his pecs, being careful to spread the VapoRub everywhere.
“I’ll worry about it tomorrow,” Shane said. "But I'm guessing they already worked it out."
Ilya nodded.
"Lean forward," Shane instructed.
Ilya bent forward, resting his arms over his legs. Shane lifted the neck of Ilya's shirt and rubbed more ointment down the back of his neck to his shoulder blades, annoyed at himself for not buying this and using it on Ilya earlier that day. He patted Ilya's sweater back down when he was done and helped Ilya sit back up.
Shane held up the VapoRub and raised his eyebrows at Ilya.
“Do you want to do me?”
Ilya drew in an excited breath, coughing again. Shane rubbed his back, kissing his shoulder as Ilya settled.
“Drink your tea, I’ll wash up,” Shane ordered.
He shuffled into the bathroom, rubbing himself down quickly with the ointment before he washed his hands. He turned off the lights as he went, popping two night time pills into Ilya’s hand and two into his own.
“Do you need anything before we go to sleep?” Shane asked after he swallowed his pills.
Ilya shook his head, taking a large swig of his tea before he shuffled to lie down. Shane climbed in next to him, smiling when Ilya rolled onto his side, turning his back to Shane and wriggling backwards. Shane turned to his side and curled up against Ilya’s back, holding him close. They absolutely reeked like eucalyptus and menthol. Shane hoped that tomorrow Ilya would smell more like himself. He missed that smell already.
“Thank you for taking care of me,” Ilya said quietly.
“I like doing it,” Shane admitted.
“But you are sick too,” Ilya said. Shane was sure Ilya was frowning. He could hear it in his voice, he was sure.
“You’re more sick than me,” Shane shrugged. “Next time I'm sicker, you can take care of me.”
He held his breath, realising that this was the closest they’d gotten all night to talking about whatever was going on between them. Shane wondered if it was too much, if he should walk it back or laugh it off, but Ilya relaxed in his arms, one word echoing in Shane’s ears as he fell asleep.
“Deal.”
>>>
It took Shane longer than usual to wake up. He was hot and his body still ached, but his throat wasn’t as scratchy as it was yesterday. He opened his eyes, smiling when he saw Ilya curled into his side, his face slack with sleep.
He was still pale, and his nose was still red, but his breathing was less laboured than yesterday. Shane listened carefully as Ilya breathed, noting that it was much less heavy already.
The air in the bedroom was kind of stale. They smelled like VapoRub and sweat, but Shane found that he didn't hate it as much as he thought he would. He'd probably endure any shitty smell for Ilya.
Shane twisted slightly to get closer to Ilya, closing his eyes and hoping that Ilya felt better when he finally woke up, too.
>>>
The room was lighter when Shane woke up. Ilya had shifted to the other side of the bed, lying flat on his back, but his leg was draped over Shane's thighs like a starfish. Shane watched Ilya for a moment, relieved to hear his breathing was a little easier when he heard footsteps past his bedroom door.
His parents were definitely awake. At least they were trying to be quiet.
Shane sat up slowly, extricating himself carefully from Ilya, being careful not to wake him before he tiptoed to his bathroom. He washed his face and brushed his teeth, relieved to feel less pressure in his head and less pain in his throat.
Slightly better than yesterday, at least. He would be much better tomorrow, he was sure of it.
Shane snuck out of the ensuite quietly, making sure Ilya was tucked in before he left the bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind him. He could hear his parents moving around downstairs, whispering to each other as they carefully opened kitchen cupboards.
He squared his shoulders, taking a deep breath before he started down the stairs.
His parents looked up when they saw him, both of them standing by the stove. Shane waited for them to say something, but David just smiled at him.
"Morning," Shane tried.
"Morning," Yuna greeted quietly.
Shane inched closer to the kitchen, thankful when Yuna turned on the kettle and reached for the mugs. He watched as she took out four, placing them on the counter.
He moved to sit on the stools, unsure of what to say.
"Feel any better today?" David asked, cutting through Shane's rapidly spiralling thoughts.
"A bit, actually," he nodded.
"Good," Yuna said, putting chamomile tea bags into each mug and adding honey to two fo them. "You slept okay?"
"Yeah, those meds knocked us out," Shane nodded.
He realised that he'd left the medicine upstairs. He debated going back upstairs, but he didn't want to risk waking Ilya up.
Shane looked up when the kettle clicked off, watching as his mother poured water into three mugs. She slid one over to Shane and pointed to the medicine she brought last night, still on the counter where Shane had left it.
"Take some," she said quietly.
Shane popped two AM pills and swallowed, reaching for his tea to wash it down. He sighed at the smooth feeling of honey down his throat, relieved that it didn't hurt to swallow today.
"Does Rozanov have any allergies?" David asked from the stove.
Shane shook his head. "No."
"Good," David hummed, turning back to the food.
Shane could feel Yuna staring at him. He knew she wanted answers. He wanted to give them to her. He just wanted to do it on his own terms.
"What are the odds we can just...not talk about it?" Shane tried, looking up at his parents.
David laughed quietly, not even bothering to look at them.
"Why don't you want to talk about it?" Yuna asked, the displeasure evident in her voice.
"Why do I have to?" Shane shot at her.
Yuna's eyes narrowed. Shane braced himself, ready to argue, but he heard the bedroom door open. He deflated as Yuna flicked the kettle back on again, watching it click off quickly and fill the fourth mug.
Shane smiled as Ilya walked into the kitchen, still holding himself a little rigid. He could feel the moment Ilya paused, deciding whether to sit next to Shane or sit further away from him.
Shane made the decision for him, kicking out the stool next to him for Ilya to sit.
It was oddly domestic in a way that Shane had never experienced before, as his mother passed Ilya his tea and Shane gave him his morning medication. Ilya thanked them both quietly, looking at Shane uncertainly.
"Do you feel better?" Shane asked.
Ilya nodded. "Head is clearer. I can breathe a bit better."
"You snored all night," Shane complained.
"I don't snore," Ilya muttered as he sipped his tea.
"It was like when dad used to mow the lawn right outside my window at seven in the morning," Shane teased.
Both his parents laughed at that. Shane grimaced internally at the reminder that he and Ilya weren't alone.
“How are you?” Ilya asked, resting his hand on Shane’s thigh.
“Better,” Shane said.
Ilya squeezed his thigh with a smile before he pulled his hand away. Shane could see that his mother was watching them out of the corner of his eye.
He wished Ilya would put his hand back.
"I made eggs and sausages," David said, turning off the stove and snapping Shane out of the moment. "You need protein and energy."
Ilya looked surprised, looking between the Hollanders. "You did not have to –"
"Shush," Yuna said, reaching for plates. "Eat."
Shane was silent as his parents split the food between two plates, passing one to each of them. He watched as they began pulling out chicken, fish and vegetables, spreading everything all over the counter.
"This is very good, thank you, Mr Hollander," Ilya said, digging into his eggs.
"David, please," David said.
"Yeah, thanks Dad," Shane said. "What are you guys doing?"
"Just prepping some stuff for you to add to the soup when you have it for lunch and dinner," Yuna shrugged. "Is there anything you don't eat?"
Ilya blinked when he realised Yuna was talking to him. "I don't like mushrooms."
Shane looked at him curiously. "Really?"
Ilya snorted as he sliced up a sausage. "Mm. Used to drive my parents crazy. Mama would sneak mushrooms into everything to make me eat them and proved that I liked them, but I could always tell."
Shane smiled at the mention of Ilya's mother. Ilya had mentioned that he was an orphan in Tampa, but Shane didn't know the details yet.
"No mushrooms then," Yuna said, pushing a small paper bag to the side. "When's your next game?"
"Two days," Ilya said.
"Plenty of time to recover," Shane said.
Ilya smiled at him as he finished his eggs, looking over at David, who was putting the chicken in the oven.
"Do you need help?" Ilya offered.
Yuna wrinkled her nose at him. "You two are sick. Go freshen up. We'll handle the food."
Shane finished the last of his eggs, draining the remainder of his tea as Ilya finished his, both of them racing to see who would swallow first before they both stood.
"Thank you," Ilya said. "Breakfast was great."
Shane nodded to his parents as he followed Ilya up the stairs, shutting the bedroom door behind them and taking a deep breath.
"Are you okay?" Ilya asked.
Shane nodded, then shook his head, then shrugged. "We haven't talked yet."
Ilya raised his eyebrows in surprise. “At all?”
“I woke up like five minutes before you,” Shane whined.
“You should have stayed in bed with me,” Ilya said, pulling Shane in for a hug.
Shane wrapped his arms around Ilya’s shoulders, letting himself melt into him.
“Are you really feeling better?” he asked.
“Yes,” Ilya said, muffled against Shane’s shoulder. “You took very good care of me. I feel healthier today.”
Shane felt his entire body go warm at the praise. “Really?”
Ilya hummed, pressing a soft kiss to Shane’s neck. “Yes. Thank you, Shane.”
Shane let out a soft noise as Ilya’s nose trailed up his jaw, pressing another soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.
Shane hated that he was sick. He hated that Ilya was sick. He hated that they smelled like VapoRub and germs and that Ilya’s throat was still sore. He moved to kiss Ilya, just a sweet press of their lips together.
“Shower?” he suggested.
Ilya nodded, following him into the bathroom. Shane turned the shower on, watching through the mirror behind him as Ilya undressed. He stripped off and followed Ilya in, basking in the heat as Ilya dumped shampoo in his hair and ran his fingers through gently.
“Are you going to tell them about me?” Ilya asked.
If Shane wasn’t pressed right up against Ilya, he might not have heard him.
“Yes,” Shane said definitively. “I just don’t know exactly what to tell them.”
“We can just say we are friends,” Ilya suggested.
“Friends who slept together last night,” Shane rolled his eyes.
“Sometimes friends sleep together,” Ilya teased.
Shane smiled, but he really didn’t know what to say. “Well, I mean. We are friends. Right?”
Ilya kissed him, firm and sure, for the first time since Tampa. Shane melted into Ilya, all the tension he didn’t realise that he was holding in his body draining out of him. Shane pressed closer, kissing Ilya back with force. Ilya pulled away with a smirk.
“Okay, so, maybe not friends,” Shane gasped.
Ilya coughed out a laugh, angling away from Shane. “Maybe best friends,” Ilya suggested, clearing his throat.
Shane shook his head as he rinsed the shampoo out, sighing.
“Best friends,” Shane said with a laugh. “I’m sure they’ll buy that.”
Ilya hummed as he stole the water from Shane, shaking out his hair and making sure to hit Shane in the face like a dog. Shane smiled as he watched Ilya move around, glad to see him goofing around like normal.
He realised, with clearer sinuses and a clearer head, that he was excited to introduce his parents to Ilya. Shane might not have known exactly what to call Ilya, but he could at least show his parents how important Ilya was to him.
“Come on,” Shane said, stepping out of the shower and reaching for their towels. “Let’s get this over with.”
Ilya took his towel and dried himself off, making his way to Shane’s closet with his hair still dripping down his back.
“I’m going to steal your blue hoodie,” Ilya announced.
They dressed quietly, only the sound of Ilya’s soft coughs filling the air. Shane froze by the bedroom door, taking a deep breath. Ilya reached for his hand, interlocking their dingers and bringing Shane’s hand up to his mouth, kissing his knuckles.
“You ready?” Ilya asked.
Shane nodded and opened the door, ready to talk to his parents.