Chapter Text
The next time Ilya woke it was to a cold space in front of him. His arm flopped down on the empty side of the bed, fingers sprawled where Shane once laid. His own limbs ached all the way to the bone, joints clicking when he twisted his hips until he was laying on his side instead of flat on his back. A bubble of congestion burst deep in his chest, sending him on a coughing jar that forced him to sit up quickly.
The world dimmed for half a second, head swimming at the sudden movement. The congestion shifted around his swollen sinuses, a hundred tiny pinpricks swarming through his nostrils until he was forced to duck his head down towards his chest, not even enough time to grab a bundle of tissues that were perched on the nightstand.
“HRcH’Shoo! HrcHS’Shoo! Hrcsh’SHC’Shoo!”
Ilya’s head gave a frantic shake with his wrist pressed against the undersides of his flaring nostrils, the need immense even after three powerful sneezes. There were certainly more lurking just below the surface, any small increase in breath through his nose threatening to tip him over the edge.
Ilya was so sick and tired of being sick and tired.
The small displace in concentration was all that his nose needed to make its displeasure known. Breath stollen from parted lips, Ilya settled for squeezing his nostrils shut with a shaking right hand, uncaring about just how much this was about to hurt so long as he kept the noise and mess in check.
“Hghcxxht! Hghxxxht!Htghth! Htchght! Htrcsh’shoo!” The final sneeze managed a small exhale in the aftermath, not fully contained. Pressure built behind his eyes as his jaw when slack, the only way he was able to breathe. All the thick mucus lodged itself in his sinuses while Ilya blindly reached for where he hoped the tissue box was. Tears of discomfort obstructed his vision as two fingers snagged into the top of the box and carried it over onto his lap. He pulled a few free and shoved them under his nose, blowing hard to clear the worst of it from his head. It would only be a few sharp moments later when it would all settle again, but he would take those few peaceful seconds when he could.
The smart thing to do would be to lay back down and rest his head, potentially drift back up to sleep until someone woke him for more meds. However, Ilya wasn’t always known for doing the smart thing.
Despite his muscles howling in protest, Ilya managed to rise back up to a seated position, the vice around his lungs tightening. He coughed, harsh and sharp with his ribs jutting against his skin. His flank burned with the sensation and he gripped his middle tightly as even his stomach made its displeasure known. If only he had water, but he’d drank it all the previous night when he woke up at almost 4 am parched.
Determined as he was, Ilya swung his legs over the side of the bed and started to stand, ignoring the pressure that pounded behind his eyes. He hardly made it to a standing position when he heard the door open and could feel eyes boring into him. He couldn’t turn to look, but there was only person who would come into this room without knocking first.
“Ilya! What are you doing,” Shane exclaimed as he rushed forward, a hand finding itself buried between Ilya’s shoulder blades, hip checked against his side. “Easy. Just breathe.”
Ilya wanted to snap that if he could ‘just breathe’ then he would, but he found it pointless. Instead he swallowed around the lump in his throat as he pleaded with his body to release him from the furious coughing. He wasn’t sure what was worse, the coughing or the sneezing, but he did know that he would be perfectly content if his body never did either function ever again.
When the worst of the hacks tapered off so that not every breath brought a new wave to the surface, Shane began to ease him down into a seated position. Ilya’s eyes lit with a furious fire as though embers were igniting in those blue eyes. It looked as though he was about to argue, to put up some semblance of a fight, when the fight left his body just as quickly. He slumped back down, bringing Shane with him. His cheek found its way to Shane’s shoulder, the smell of Shane’s aftershave faint through his clogged sinuses.
Lips brushed against his temple, trailing to his brow. “You’re warmer,” Shane assessed.
Ilya closed his eyes, face buried deeper into the crook of Shane’s neck, sniffling softly.
“You need to see a doctor, Ilya. I already found an Urgent Care on the way back home. They’ll be discrete and quick. I think you need some antibiotics in you,” Shane explained, his hand tracing a line down Ilya’s spine through his thin t-shirt.
Ilya shuddered, unable to stop his face from twisting further into Shane’s neck. “Dno pills,” Ilya breathed in a voice that was lower than a whisper.
“They have liquid that we can ask for,” Shane chirped hopefully. “We’ll figure it out. We don’t want it getting worse or moving deeper into your chest.”
The sinus infections were something the two of them were used to when it came to Ilya; bronchitis or pneumonia was something completely different. Ilya could tell from the look Shane gave him, the weary expression in his eyes just how worried he was. Ilya pointedly kept his face tucked away so he couldn’t see the plea in Shane’s eyes. His touch was enough to convey that message enough and Ilya knew he couldn’t hide forever.
They stayed sat on the edge of the bed for what felt like a lifetime, Ilya nearly drifting off again when Shane’s lips brushed against his temple once more in the softest kiss.
“We should get going,” Shane urged.
Ilya squeezed his eyes shut briefly. “Need to pack.”
“I already took care of that.”
“I could’ve helped.” Ilya rubbed the side of his hand against his nose, stealing a quick glance to Shane’s neck to make sure he hadn’t accidentally dripped onto him.
Shane’s eyes grew warm. “You helped enough by getting some rest. I know you were up half the night last night.”
If Shane knew that, then that could only mean that he was also up when Ilya was. He tried to keep himself as quiet as possible, though now when he looked at Shane’s face, he could see the paleness on his face, the faint creases in the corners of his eyes as his eyelids drooped. He hated that he was the cause of it as his hand reached up to cup Shane’s cheek, thumb trailing directly under his left eye.
Shane chuckled fondly, face twisting to kiss along Ilya’s warm palm. “It’s fine,” he breathed as though reading Ilya’s mind. “Will you please let me take you to the doctor?”
Every instinct in Ilya’s head was screaming at him to refuse, to put his head down and force his way through with the Tylenol and liquid decongestants until he finally felt better. That’s what he would typically do especially in the offseason. It was only the fearful look in Shane’s eyes that caused his heart to flutter and his mind to weigh his options more than previously. Shane could give him a run for his money in stubbornness and he was just too tried for that sort of fight.
“Fine,” Ilya grumbled with his body hunched forward.
Shane did his best to hide his excitement, but Ilya noticed immediately. Shane’s hand rubbed at Ilya’s upper back. “Do you want to take a shower before we go?”
“No.” Ilya rose to his feet despite the aching in his joints. He would not stumble, not with Shane watching him like a hawk. His eyes locked on the bare wall across from him with his feet settling against the carpet before he took a step. Despite the ache, he managed to take a few steps without worrying that he would need Shane to steady him. Shane would be there without hesitation if he stumbling, but his pride couldn’t take much else. “Will change.”
He pushed the bedroom door open before Shane could call after him, feet shuffling against the floor. He ducked into the bathroom to find a change of clothes already waiting for him, composed of sweatpants, a thin t-shirt, a fresh pair of boxers, and one of Shane’s hoodies. A ghost of a smile toyed at Ilya’s lips as he changed quickly and brushed his teeth, blowing his nose a few times too for good measure. He had half a mind to take the tissue box in the bathroom with them on their travels, but he didn’t want to leave the Hollanders with nothing. He’d already depleted their stash with alarming efficiency.
After running his fingers through his curls in a futile attempt to calm the worst of them, he reemerged back into the hallway to find Shane carrying the last of their bags to the front door. Ilya fell into step behind him, cheeks coloring when he saw Yuna and David standing at the island, an array of medications, vapor rub, nasal sprays, cough drops, and a few other things that Ilya didn’t recognize spread out in front of her.
“I don’t know what you both already have at home but we have some extra things you can take with you.”
Shane rolled his eyes, his duffle falling from his shoulder to land on the floor with a solid thump. “Mom,” Shane complained, voice borderline whining. “I know how to take care of my boyfriend.”
“I know you do. But, there’s no harm in having a surplus of supplies.”
Shane struggled not to roll his eyes as he deflated and started to set the items into a plastic bag. Ilya didn’t know if he needed all of that considering Shane kept their own home heavily stocked with every over-the-counter medicine one could ever want. He doubted that Yuna would allow them to leave otherwise and despite the pounding behind his eyes and the buzzing in the back of his nose, he managed a thankful nod in Yuna’s direction.
Harsh lines tugged on the edges of Yuna’s mouth when she gazed upon Ilya. She took a step forward, and before Ilya could warn her away so she didn’t end up with the same fate as him, Yuna’s arms wrapped around his shoulders in a tight hug. He didn’t have the heart to push her away, body limp in her grasp as she held him tight.
“I’m sorry you’re not feeling well, Ilya. I know this was supposed to be a vacation for you and then this had to go and happen.” She took a step back and offered a sympathetic smile. “Come back anytime, alright? We’ll show you all the sights and make up for this time.”
“Thank you,” Ilya rasped.
David came to stand behind his wife. “Call if you boys need anything. We’re only a few hours drive away.”
“We will. Thanks for everything. Love you.” Shane motioned for Ilya to follow as he grabbed the last of their bags, Ilya holding the clothes he changed out of tucked under his arm. It took all of his self control not to pull his hood over his head as he followed Shane out the door while his parents called after them how much they loved both of them. It was something Ilya was gradually becoming used to as expressing any sort of outward affection in his family wasn’t typical. In fact, even when his mother was alive he couldn’t remember his parents ever saying they loved each other. His mother may have told him, but that was the extent of it.
The two headed down the steps and across the sidewalk to their parked car. Shane set the last of their luggage in the trunk while Ilya reluctantly took his spot in the passenger side. Although it was more typical for Shane to drive than him, he hated being sidelined for the better part of this trip. Then again, if he got behind the wheel he would drive the two of them directly home and bypass the Urgent Care entirely, if he didn’t accidentally fall asleep at the wheel and drive them straight into a tree. Something told him that Shane was well aware of this fact.
By the time Shane climbed into the driver’s side, Ilya was pitched forward, hands steepled over the lower half of his face. “HrSH’Shoo! HRcHS’Shoo! HrcSH’Tchoo!”
“Bless you,” Shane exclaimed as he stretched his arm across Ilya’s headrest as he backed the car down the driveway. “How long were you holding those back for?”
Ilya barely managed to flip him off before he crunched forward in on himself, shoulders heaving with each hitching breath. Both hands were swapped out for a single fist as he patted at his hoodie pocket in search of the few tissues he’d stashed in there precisely for this moment.
“Hih…huh…..TRcsh’Tchoo!” The next sneeze came out in almost three separate syllables, scraping Ilya’s raw throat in the process. Tears pricked in his eyes as his fingers enclosed around a single sheet while Shane steered them onto the main road, hand outstretched to squeeze Ilya’s knee reassuringly in lieu of blessing him when he was ratcheting up for more.
“RcHS’CShoo!” Ilya’s head snapped down into the tissue, a single sneeze all it took to render it obsolete. Ilya grumbled to himself, wrist used instead to contain the moisture that threatened to stream as he reached back into his pocket for the rest of the stack. Conserving them would no longer be an option when it felt like the itch had lodged itself so far deep into his irritated sinuses that he would never be able to sneeze it out.
“HRcHS’Shoo! TcSH’Shoo! RcSh’Shoo!” The next three seemed to bound out of him, one after the other with only a few breaths in between. Hot tears stained his cheeks before Ilya even realized they were watering. That was a later issue as he found a sparse dry section in the wilted tissues as his body geared up for yet another round of sneezes, no matter how much his throat and lungs protested.
“Hrchgxght!” That one hurt, Ilya’s eyes wide and watering and lungs seizing as he let out a few sharp coughs against his chest. It didn’t stop his hand from finding its way back to his nose, pinching his nostrils so hard that his knuckles grew white. “Ghxxght! Hrxght! Hgxght!”
“Fucking stop that!” Shane’s voice rose behind him. Not quite at a yell, but louder than Ilya anticipated. He jumped at the sound, jaw slack and brow knit together as the burn ignited through his sinuses as though someone lit a match. His fingers stayed clamped around his nostrils despite Shane’s harsh words, rather dealing with the consequences of rupturing an eardrum than subjecting Shane to his disgusting self one more time.
“Hrsh’ght!” Hrs’ght!” The next two were barely contained, breathier yet no less painful.
Ilya was so lost in his own misery that he didn’t even realize the car had slowed to a stop, nor that they were pulled off on the side of the road as cars whizzed past them.
“Wha’,” Ilya began as he felt strong hands grasp his shoulder and pull him close. His first instinct was to pull away, to yank himself free and press so tight against the passenger door that he feared he might break it. Anything was better than collapsing into the man he loved more than anything and showing him just how disgusting he could be.
Shane had stood by him the entire time they were at his parents, but even he had to have a limit.
“It’s alright,” Shane soothed, a weary rasp in his words. “It’s okay.”
Ilya’s face crushed into Shane’s chest with Shane’s arms around his shoulders to hold him close. Ilya’s hand managed to reach up, nose held so tight no air could pass through.
“Hixght! Hgcxth!”
“Stop. Stop.” Shane’s voice cracked, breath wavering on a thready exhale. “Please stop. You’re going to hurt yourself. It’s alright. You’re okay. I don’t care whatever germs you have. Just let them out.”
Ilya was hardly aware of what Shane was doing even when he felt his face become crushed into Shane’s own sweatshirt covered chest. Shane’s grip was strong, unyielding even when Ilya gave a halfhearted attempt to free himself.
“You’re hurting yourself,” Shane continued in the same gentle voice that Ilya knew only too well. “It’s just us. You don’t need to do that. I love you and I’m not going to think any less of you because you have a sinus infection from hell. What I won’t tolerate is you fucking holding them in like that. You think your nose can handle anymore abuse you subject it to?”
Ilya felt his nose give a twitch at that observation. It was true he’d broken it far more times that he could count, and none of those times was it properly reset. The coaches in Russia often made him play right after, claiming that it was only cartilage and would heal on it’s own. They weren’t totally wrong, but they had left out the part that it would heal crooked, Ilya’s septum forever deviated so that even on the best of days he sometimes struggled to breathe through it. At even the slightest bit of congestion, the appendage would become useless and hopelessly congested for the foreseeable future.
All of that Ilya could handle. What he couldn’t handle was Shane finding him disgusting.
“Hih…..Shade,” Ilya warned, breath caught in a vicarious pull and release as the sensation he thought he abated resurfaced with a vengeance.
“It’s alright,” Shane chided, refusing to release his hold on Ilya. “Just sneeze. We want everything out, not in.”
Easier said than done when instinct had Ilya grasping at the edges of his nostrils in a iron grip. Shane’s tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth as he reached now hand down to pull Ilya’s down by the wrist. Instead he pushed a wad of tissues from his own pocket into Ilya’s hand, which he wedged between his nose and Shane’s chest. Ilya briefly contemplated trying to tear himself free of Shane’s hold before thinking better of it when Shane’s arm came right back around to join the other, anchoring Ilya close.
“Hih….HRcsh’Shoo! HrcHs’Shoo!” Ilya gasped at the two sneezes that barreled out of him, caught in the folds of the tissues. He still felt Shane’s chest, a solid foundation against him, absorb the brunt of the impact. Ilya just hoped nothing escaped the tissues as that would be where he drew the line to how much Shane could tolerate his illness. “HRcH’Shoo! RtChs’Tschoo!”
“Bless you, bless you, bless you.” Shane kissed the top of Ilya’s head, thick curls tickling the underside of his throat. “Those felt better, right?”
Ilya felt he couldn’t dignity that question with an answer as he turned the tissues over to a dryer section to blow weakly into them. He wasn’t going to clear his sinuses being pressed this close to Shane no matter how much Shane coaxed him. The sneezing was bad enough as it made Ilya wish a hole could open in front of him and swallow him whole. How would he ever look Shane in the eye after this egregious display?
“HrTRSH’Shoo!”
The last one snuck up on him so that Ilya sneezed in his sleeve—Shane’s hoodie sleeve— and kept it pressed there. He snuffled back around it, tissues completely damp and useless in his other hand. A low groan sounded in the back of his throat that he was hopeless to stop, even as his mind finally caught up with the rest of his body.
“Bless you, Ilya. Jesus, that was a lot even for you.”
“Dnot by mosdt by far,” Ilya croaked, sniffling again as mucus turned to sludge in his sinuses, sucked partially back though most of it still threatened to seep right through his sweatshirt.
Shane rolled his eyes. “The fact that you can even say that is insane.”
Ilya shrugged. He was used to the severity of his sneezing attacks especially with a sinus infection too. If only someone had insisted on setting his nose any of the several times he broke it, perhaps they wouldn’t be having this conversation now.
When Shane’s grip finally started to loosen around his shoulders, Ilya slumped back into his seat. He didn’t dare lower his wrist from his nose, unwilling to subject Shane to just how messy that bout was. There were no more tissues in his pocket and any clothing he would be willing to sacrifice was in the trunk. That left only sitting as he was now, head tipped back with the hope the mucus would drip back inside his nose. A horrible decision for his postnasal drip and already rough cough, but it was that or have his nose run freely.
Shane twisted back in his own seat, back arched with his arm grasping blindly. His eyes brightened when his fingers grasped his prize, pulling a box of tissues by the edge and tossing it into Ilya’s lap. “Grabbed a few boxes before we left.”
Relief surged through Ilya so strong that if he wasn’t currently dealing with the worst runny nose he’d ever experienced in his life, he would kiss Shane right now. Instead he settled for pulling out perhaps more tissues than was currently necessary and switching his sleeve out for them. He blew so hard his left ear popped and deep, rumbling coughs rolled through him. Tears shone in his eyes with the effort, going through three more rounds with varying amounts of tissues before he felt truly satisfied.
Ilya sagged back against the seat, eyes half open as he stared out the opposite window. Cars continued to rush past them, oblivious to his struggle in the safety of Shane’s car.
The tightening grip on his thigh had Ilya’s gaze flickering down, his own hand coming down to rest on top of Shane’s. Their fingers intertwined together briefly before Shane was forced to pull his hand back in favor of the wheel.
“Ready to keep going,” Shane questioned.
Ilya swallowed around the growing lump in his throat. What he was ready for was to crawl into their bed and not move for the foreseeable future. Unfortunately, that was less of an option than ever now that Shane saw that episode. Any hope of convincing Shane he didn’t need to see a doctor went up in smoke. Even Ilya himself was resigned to the fact that antibiotics may be the only thing to kick this thing before it killed him. Could someone die of excessive snot? Ilya didn’t want to find out.
Not trusting his voice not to sound like gravel, Ilya gave his head the tiniest of nods. His ears were starting to thrum alongside his sinuses, pulsating in turn with his heartbeat. Uncomfortable didn’t even scratch the surface to how that felt and Ilya could only squeeze his eyes shut as the car started to move. Carsick wasn’t quite how he felt when they peeled onto the highway, more like dizziness with flair.
Eyes still closed, Ilya attempted to control his breathing through his mouth as his nose had long since stopped being an option. The tissue box was gripped against his chest. He didn’t think sleep would claim him after Shane switched on the radio to some hockey commentary about the draft, yet Ilya felt himself drift off with the feel of the car lulling him off.
It wasn’t long before a hand was enclosing around his shoulder and giving him a knowing shake that Ilya opened his eyes, lungs seizing with a congested gasp. A volley of phlegmy coughs erupted from him, elbow barely able to protect the man beside him from the full onslaught of his germs. The coughs turned into gruesome hacks, ones that caused his eyes to water and his nose to run even more than it already was.
“Here,” the worried voice of Shane sounded as a billow of soft tissues grazed against his opposite hand. “Try blowing your nose. It might help.”
Ilya took the offered tissues in shaking hands and cupped them over his nose and mouth as he continued to cough. It took all of his concentration to hold back the hacks in turn with blowing each nostril in turn into the tissue again and again. Some of the mucus began to loosen and the coughing tapered off, but he still wasn’t able to take a complete breath through his nose, tears glistening down his cheeks.
“Fuck, Ilya,” Shane exclaimed as his own hands reached out, thumbs lightly curling over his cheeks to wick away the tears. “That cough is getting worse.”
Ilya squinted his eyes at his boyfriend, well aware that his nose was steadily dripping again. “Dno…..is because of this.” Ilya motioned to his nose and sniffed for emphasis. “Drip.”
“Postnasal drip? I think this goes way beyond that, Il.” Shane’s head gave a small shake. “They’ll say more when the doctor sees you.”
At the mention of a doctor, Ilya’s heart plummeted into his stomach. It was only then that he twisted his neck to spy out the opposite window to the Urgent Care looming in front of them. The car was parked now that he was more aware, a cold sweat breaking out down his back until he longed to rip Shane’s sweatshirt from over his head. Hands shaking, Ilya’s fingers dug hard into his thighs through his sweatpants until there was sure to be bruises left behind.
“Hey, hey, look at me.” Shane’s hand enclosed on either side of Ilya’s cheeks, thumbs trailing over his boyfriend’s chapped lips. The light touch was enough for Ilya’s frantic eyes to meet Shane’s own, lost in the dark pool of brown that promised reprieve and kindness. “Copy my breaths, alright? You’re starting to hyperventilate.”
Now that Shane mentioned it, his chest was feeling tighter, the breath a low whistle that dragged from his windpipe. His palms grew sweaty from their position latched onto his thighs, heart hammering in his chest. The nausea he pushed down from earlier was back with a vengeance and each breath he took in through his mouth aggravated his sore throat.
“Lyubov moya, sweetheart…..Ilya you have to listen to me. I know it feels frightening and everything is wrong, but I need you to calm down. You’re going to pass out if you keep this up,” Shane continued, hoping that the Russian phrase that Ilya always used for him would snap him out of whatever haze of panic he felt he was trapped in.
A lump formed in Ilya’s throat, one that he couldn’t dislodge with a single swallow. His head tried to snap off to the side, perhaps in embarrassment or necessity, but Shane’s grip held him steady. He kept holding him even when Ilya’s face crumbled further and the tears flowed more freely. The tears mixed with the snot and Ilya could not remember a time he felt more disgusting than he was now. He wanted to hide, to turn as far away from Shane as possible so that he never had to see him like this again.
“Hey…..no.” Shane shifted so that he wrapped one arm around Ilya’s shoulders and across his upper back to pull him over. Ilya’s chin found it’s way onto Shane’s shoulder, the scent of his shampoo faint through his muted senses but still detectable. It was a scent he could get lost in, if only his thoughts were screaming at him not to step foot into that Urgent Care.
Ilya couldn’t stop the tears from flowing, Shane’s shoulder growing damp with a mix of fluids. Ilya was shaking so hard to truly be aware, face pressed against the soft material, seeking out the strength of Shane’s presence. He let out a string of Russian phrases, damn well knowing that Shane wouldn’t understand. That was somehow easier than admitting in English that the world was shattering in front of his very eyes.
Shane didn’t press him to translate the phrases. A sure palm trailed along his spine through the sweatshirt, Shane whispering a few reassuring phrases both in English and French. Ilya’s body slumped against the Canadian, sobs finally beginning to taper off to frantic sniffles so not to make an ever bigger mess on Shane’s clothing than he already had.
Unfortunately for Ilya, his nose wouldn’t give him any semblance of a break as the loosening congestion only served to irritate his already inflamed nasal tract, bringing with it a burn so intense that Ilya couldn’t convey the urgency to Shane. His body went rigid as a board and his hand just managed to cup over his nose and mouth as the feeling tipped into all consuming need that wouldn’t be quelled no matter what he tried.
“HrCHS’SH’RSHoo!”
Shane almost jumped at the sound, much louder than even the more vicious of Ilya’s sneezes. If only that was the only byproduct.
It was almost enough to cause Ilya to cry once more, but he knew that adding even more tears to the mix would not be helpful. Skin crawling with disgust, Ilya leaned back and ducked down desperately for the tissues, cleaning his hands first which were coated in more mucus than he knew his body could produce. It took a few tissues before he deemed his hand acceptable, quick to grab another few handfuls to first wipe then blow his nose, surprised at how much congestion was still left in his sinuses. Despite all of that he still couldn’t breathe and even more sniffles emitted deep from within his sinuses.
“Sorry,” Ilya croaked, well aware that some of whatever he sneezed had to have caught Shane somewhere.
Shane chuckled lightly. “Bless you. That was big even for you. Your body really needed that.”
“Sorry.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for.” Shane reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a small bottle of hand sanitizer. Ilya was usually against using it, but considering how gross he felt, he obediently held out both hands for Shane to squirt a generous amount onto his open palms. The second it dried, Shane took Ilya’s hand in his own. “We have to go to see the doctor. You need antibiotics or maybe something more and we can’t get that on our own. Can you tell me what about this got you so upset?”
Ilya was unable to meet Shane’s gaze no matter how patient it was. He couldn’t say everything that he was feeling, as truthfully he didn’t know if he could put it into words. However, he needed to tell Shane something or he would never find a way out of this conversation.
“Pills,” he mumbled.
“Pills? You think the doctor is going to prescribe you pills?”
Ilya gave a tiny nod.
“We can ask him for liquid instead. That has to be an option what with people who have trouble swallowing and stuff. It’ll probably taste like shit, but if it gets you to take it.”
That was an easy enough solution for a problem that wasn’t exactly at the forefront of Ilya’s mind. It would have to do.
“Is there anything else?”
Nothing that Ilya particularly wanted to share, so no.
Ilya settled for shaking his head quickly until the burning intensity behind his eyes bloomed brighter. His eyes were quick to squeeze shut as he focused on his trembling breaths. No matter how his body protested, they were going inside whether he wanted to or not.
“I’ll be with you the whole time if that’s what you want. Or I can wait in the waiting room if you need privacy. Whatever you need.” Shane started to ramble, words bubbling from his lips like a fountain, desperate for Ilya to give any sign that he understood and agreed with what he was saying.
With one more furious rub at his nose with the side of his hand, Ilya reached down to grasp the handle on the passenger door and forced it open.
If they were going to do this, they had to do it now before he changed his mind.