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“Shane”, Ilya says softly but sternly, shaking his head. He places the tray he’s carrying on the coffee table and grabs the phone from Shane’s hands, pocketing it. “You have to stay off your phone.”
They’ve only been home for about 20 minutes after spending hours at the hospital where Yuna and Ilya took turns pacing nervously in the small room. Shane had collided with another player during practice, hitting his head on the cold, hard ice on the way down. He was eventually discharged with a concussion and a packet of care instructions that were tucked safely in Ilya’s back pocket.
Ilya had just gotten Shane set up on the couch, wearing his most comfortable t-shirt and sweats. The lights were dimmed low, the flickering TV switched off as soon as Shane squinted at it. He was propped up on a few throw pillows with a blanket thrown over his lap, his hands in the same position as they were before his phone was taken, almost as if he hadn't yet registered it was no longer there.
“Mhm”, Shane hums, looking up at Ilya, eyes half-lidded. “I wanted to check the score.” He finally registers his phone is gone and makes grabby hands for it, but Ilya shoves the bowl of crackers from the tray into his hands instead.
“Ah, no. Your phone privileges have been revoked.” Ilya chuckles when Shane grumbles, stuffing a cracker into his mouth.
“Thirsty?”, Ilya asks.
Shane nods his head but then winces, his fingers reaching up to rest on his temple . “Hurts,” he rasps around a mouth full of crumbs.
“Easy”, Ilya lowers himself to his knees so he’s face to face with Shane. He drops two pills into Shane’s hand and brings the glass of water closer, grasping the straw to bring it to Shane’s lips. “Drink. Slowly.”
Shane pops the pills into his mouth and leans ever so slightly forward to take the straw between his lips, drinking as slowly and carefully as he can. Once he’s done, Ilya places the glass back onto the coffee table, wiping the condensation from his hands onto the leg of his jeans.
Shane flinches at the sound the metal straw makes when it clinks back against the glass, making his head throb.
Ilya hums sympathetically. “Are you feeling dizzy? I should check your pupils.” He slips his phone from his jeans pocket and turns on the flashlight.
“If you shine a light in my eye right now I will throw up”, Shane groans. ‘I’m fine. Promise.”
Ilya looks at him skeptically, his gaze bouncing from one of Shane’s pupils to the other. They seem fine. He’ll keep an eye on them. “Fine. Please try to rest.”
Ilya shuts the door as quietly as he can, shuffling into the living room carrying the grocery bags just delivered by Instacart.
He sets two bags down next to the coffee table and brings the rest into the kitchen. A 24 pack of ginger ale cans and two bottles of Gatorade are placed in the fridge. He unpacks a bottle of extra strength Tylenol, ginger chews, crackers, three cans of soup, and a box of chamomile tea onto the counter.
Once everything is unpacked in the kitchen, he makes his way back into the living room. He grabs one of the bags he left there, pulling out a gallon of distilled water and a small humidifier.
“Wha-?”, Shane groans, cracking open one eye when he hears the rustling of plastic bags.
“Go back to sleep, moya lyubov”, Ilya says softly, filling the humidifier tank with water. He re-caps the gallon, plugs in the humidifier, and sets it to high. An almost comedically heavy mist swirls into the air as Ilya moves the nozzle to point in Shane’s direction.
“The fuck is that?” Shane asks, confused.
“Is humidifier”, Ilya says simply.
“I know”, Shane says sleepily. “Why? I have a concussion, not a cold.”
“Google said humidifier will keep your nose from drying out. Dry nose can cause headache. You already have headache, you don’t need more”, Ilya explains like it makes perfect sense.
“Okay”, Shane says after a moment, a small smile on his face. He’s too exhausted to explain why what Ilya just said makes absolutely no sense. Even with his nagging headache, he can see how badly Ilya needs to make himself useful and do whatever he can to make Shane feel better. “Thank you”, he drifts back to sleep before he can hear Ilya’s reply.
Shane wakes slowly, his eyes fluttering open to find Ilya asleep slumped against the opposite arm of the couch. He starts to sit up but the movement causes his head to pound so hard he gasps out a, “fuck”.
Ilya startles awake, asking Shane if he’s okay before both of his eyes are even open. He swears when he sees what time it is. “Yebat,” Ilya swears, standing to grab Shane’s pain medication from the coffee table. “You should have taken these an hour ago, I’m sorry.” He places two pills in the palm of Shane’s hand and brings the glass of water to his lips to drink.
Once Shane swallows, he looks up at Ilya fondly. “‘S’okay. You needed to rest too.” He yawns, doing his best not to set off more pounding in his head. “Can we go to bed?”, he asks.
“No sex until your headache is gone”, Ilya replies with a stern shake of his head.
“No-”, Shane grumbles. “I just want to cuddle and go to sleep. Promise.”
“Moving hurts you”, Ilya reaches down to run his fingers over Shane’s cheek. “You should stay here.”
“Don’t want to”, Shane whines. “I miss you. Please?”
Ilya laughs softly, bending down to shove one hand against Shane’s lower back and the other under his knees.
Shane’s lifted gently into Ilya’s arms before he even realizes what’s just happened. After a second he groans, forehead gently tucked into Ilya’s neck. “Come on, I can walk.”
“You will fall”, Ilya says. “Grocery store was out of life alert necklace. I will help until Amazon delivers. Tracking says tomorrow.”
Shane can’t tell if Ilya is serious. He doesn’t get the chance to think about it too hard before he finds himself placed gently into bed, the soft duvet thrown over him from chin to toe.
Ilya bends down to place the most delicate of kisses to his forehead, his hand drifting up to card through Shane’s hair gently. “Do you need anything? I can make you some tea?”
“Mm, no. Just you”, Shane hums settling into the pillows. He hears the click of a knob turning and cracks an eye open to see Ilya positioning the humidifier nozzle, until he feels the heavy mist drift across his face.
“You bought two?”, Shane laughs. The movement makes him wince and press his fingers briefly to his temple. He’s going to make fun of Ilya for this. Just as soon as he can think without a splitting headache.
“Ah, yes”, Ilya confirms, smoothing the blanket higher over Shane’s shoulders. He makes his way around to his side of the bed and slides in under the covers. “Was on sale. BOGO. Couldn’t resist.”
Shane hums thoughtfully, blinking slowly as he pulls Ilya closer. He goes willingly, taking a moment to find the perfect position that won’t jostle Shane too much. He settles on letting Shane’s head rest on his chest, their legs tangling under the warm covers.
Shane is quiet for a moment, his fingers drifting down to twine them together with Ilya’s. “What’s my word?”
Ilya’s thumb traces a slow pattern on the back of Shane’s hand.“Your word?”, he asks, brow furrowing.
“Of the day. Russian.” Shane hums, his voice already thick with sleep.
Ilya has been teaching Shane Russian with one word a day for the last few weeks. He thinks a moment before deciding. “Solnste”, Ilya says softly. “Means sunshine.”
“Solnste”, Shane repeats slowly, trying to get it right.
“Perfect,” Ilya praises, not having the heart to tell him his pronunciation was terrible. “Sleep, moya lyubov. I’m right here if you need me.” He lifts their intertwined fingers to his lips to kiss Shane’s knuckles softly.
“Always need you,” Shane murmurs, drifting off. “Love you so much”. Shane’s breathing evens out almost immediately, slow and warm against Ilya’s chest.
Ilya’s heart swells, a soft grin spreading over his lips. “I love you more, moe solntse”, he whispers into the night.