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Ilya is watching coffee percolate on the counter when he hears Shane sniffling and coughing his way into the kitchen.
He drops his duffle on the floor before dropping into a chair and placing his head on top of his arms on the table, clearly exhausted.
"You are going to see Terry? Good choice," Ilya says, knowing that Shane probably had no intention of doing that. He probably planned to go through practice like normal. Shane doesn't even bother to argue about it, though, which Ilya considers concerning.
Ilya gets in their medicine cabinet and puts Advil and something for Cold & Flu in front of Shane before placing his hand against Shane's forehead. "You are warm, moy luvboya."
"I don't feel great," Shane admits, his voice hoarse, and Ilya hums. Definitely concerning.
"Let's get to practice early so I can bring you back home when Terry benches you," Ilya says.
Shane just nods.
Shane is listless and quiet on the way to the rink, and it takes Terry approximately two minutes to tell him he's benched at least until he's fever free.
Ilya is ready to take him back home when Terry insists on looking him over too. "You might be okay now, Ilya, but you live with Shane. I'm sure this is contagious."
Ilya knows it's true but rolls his eyes about it.
He takes Shane home and tucks him in on the couch. "I am calling Yuna and telling her to check on you."
"My mom doesn't need to come," Shane whines, and Ilya remembers Shane complaining about his parents getting overbearing when he broke his collarbone.
Ilya has a hard time relating. He can't imagine being fretted over enough that it becomes a problem.
"Your fever disagrees," Ilya says. "Let your mom take care of you."
"Fine," Shane says.
XXX
When Ilya gets home, it's to the smell of chicken noodle soup, and the sound of ESPN on low in the background.
Yuna is sitting at the far end of the couch, tablet in hand, while Shane dozes. His breathing, even in his sleep, is erratic, and Ilya hates it.
"There's soup on the stove," Yuna says. "Shane barely ate any, so there's plenty."
"I can't believe he didn't want you to come," Ilya says as he sets his bowl of soup on the coffee table and sits down on the floor next to it. "Your soup is delicious."
"Shane just doesn't like being fussed over," Yuna says. "It makes him feel managed."
"His loss," Ilya says around a spoonful of soup.
"I'll remember you said that when I'm fussing over you in a day or two," Yuna says.
"You will fuss over me?" Ilya asks. He should have been expecting it. He knows he's like Yuna and David's second son. But somehow he still wasn't.
He wishes he could blame his suddenly watering eyes on the soup that isn't even a little spicy.
"Of course, sweetheart," Yuna says. "Me and Shane both will, if he's feeling up to it."
"Okay," Ilya says, mostly to the table.
XXX
He doesn't have to wait long to be fussed over.
The next morning, he wakes to a pounding headache and an incredibly sore throat, feeling like he hasn't slept in days.
Shane stirs next to him and asks, "you feel like shit too? You were coughing in your sleep."
Ilya groans. "Is going to be miserable day."
Shane hums in agreement before placing his hand against Ilya's forehead. "Shit. You probably have a fever too, but I can't even tell. My hand's too clammy."
"Where is thermometer?" Ilya asks as he staggers towards the bedroom door.
"You too, huh?" Yuna says from the doorway, where she's holding ginger ale and medicine. "I knew you wouldn't last long. This is for Shane, though. What do you want to drink? Water? Gatorade?"
"Gatorade is fine. There's blue ones in the fridge," Ilya says.
Yuna returns a few minutes later and insists on getting both their temperatures.
"Well nothing fever reducers won't fix," Yuna says as she puts the thermometer away. "You boys want to stay in bed or want me to set you up on the couch?"
They both groan at the thought of leaving their bed and having to navigate the steps. The living room feels miles away.
"Well, take care of each other up here and call me if you need me," Yuna says. "I'm walking Anya then going through the details of some pride brand details, making sure these brands have their money where their mouth is."
"Thank you, Yuna," Ilya says before prodding Shane who then adds, "Thanks, mom."
Ilya lays his head on Shane's chest and Shane runs his fingers through his curls until he has a coughing fit that knocks Ilya's head from his chest.
Ilya's head spins as he tries to reach for Shane's back. He wants to rub soothing circles against it but instead finds his hand rubbing against their sheets.
"Can't even cuddle with you," Ilya laments.
"Yeah, this sucks," Shane says. "But it's better than the last time I was sick."
"Oh?" Ilya asks.
"Yeah, don't you remember when I was in Pittsburg and refused to FaceTime with you last year?" Shane asks.
"I thought that was because of Pike," Ilya says.
"Well, yeah, Hayden being there was part of it, but I also had a stupid sinus infection in a stupid hotel in Pittsburgh, and you weren't there to even try to snuggle with."
"I am here now," Ilya says before brushing Shane's bangs back from his forehead. "We can have stupid cold together and have your mom fuss over us."
"This is probably the flu, Ilya," Shane says.
"Flu, then," Ilya amends before snuggling against Shane's side.