Alright, alright....it's not particularly original or revelatory but it's some more content so I am sharing cause I cannot get enough of the idea of this man sick with a cold.
I present I/lya with a cold, set during his time in Ottawa while S/hane still plays in Montreal. With the headcanon that I/lya doesn't give a fuck about snot/spit/etc lol
--
J: Good luck tonight (4:46)
Shane glances at his phone as he climbs into his Jeep. It's now nearly six and the text is unanswered, and though it isn't unlike Ilya to disappear for long stretches, it irritates Shanes. He's just finished up his own afternoon game in Montreal and there's a long stretch of highway between him and Ilya's condo in Ottawa.
Hair still damp from the showers, he pulls out of the arena's private parking and heads for the on-ramp of Route 40. He's done this drive so many times now, it's practically muscle memory. With a podcast on and the sun setting as he drives, he goes into auto-pilot, his mind quiet and focused on the familiar stretch of road.
It isn't until he's pulled into Ilya's garage (beside the ridiculous orange Porsche) and he's shouldering his weekend bag that he notices that Ilya has finally replied to his text.
L: Maybe you should stay in Montreal tonight (6:37)
Brow furrowing, he texts back.
J: What? I just got here. I know you're on the ice -- we can talk after. (8:38)
Shane lets himself in to the house and tosses his bag in the bedroom. Ilya's generally pretty neat, but the bed is unmade and there are clothes scattered on the floor and an empty plastic water bottle on the nightstand. In the kitchen, several mugs and dishes are in the sink along with remains of a sandwich half-eaten on the table. Shane turns the TV on to TSN to catch the rest of Ilya's game while he loads the dishes into the dishwasher.
The second quarter has just ended and the commentators are discussing the game. Ottawa is behind 1 to 3.
“Rosanov's just not looking his best tonight,” one of the commentators remarks. “He's been slow on his skates all evening.”
“And with Ilya Rosanov playing poorly, the rest of the team just can't seem to pick up the slack,” the other broadcaster replies.
“It's going to be tough for Ottawa to regain control in this third period. Detroit is absolutely dominating the puck and the pace.”
Shane searches the screen for a glimpse of Ilya as the players start entering the ice for the last twenty minutes of the game. The camera pans across to the Centaur's bench as Ilya enters the ice for the face off.
Shane's stomach sinks as he sees exactly why Ilya is playing poorly. He's barely off the bench before the camera catches him pausing and sneezing violently.
“Oooh,” the commentator groans as Ilya is captured with a thick rope of snot dribbling out of his nose. The Russian turns around and grabs a towel from the bench, wiping his face. He spits impatiently onto the ice and skates to the centre.
“That was gross,” the commentator continues. “Clearly Rosanov isn't feeling well tonight. Let's hope it's not contagious.”
Shane watches anxiously as Ilya struggles through his rotation on the ice and then heads for the bench, clearly exhausted. The camera catches him coughing as several of his teammates inch away along the crowded bench.
There's a simultaneous mix of intense sympathy, care, and disgust fighting in Shane's mind. He is just here for a day and then he has to drive back to Montreal for practice and to catch a flight to Tampa for a game series in Florida. Ilya is clearly very sick and Shane definitely does not want to catch whatever he's got. But at the same time, the idea of Ilya sick and alone in an empty house kills Shane to think about.
He grabs his phone and texts Ilya.
J: Oh I see what you meant. I'm at your place anyway. Are you okay??
Ilya is benched for the rest of the game and the period ends with Ottawa losing 1-5. Shane switches off the TV and goes into the bedroom, stripping off the bed sheets and making the bed fresh. He fills up a water bottle and puts it on Ilya's side with a box of tissues.
Ilya's bathroom cupboards are woefully bare when it comes to cold medicine of any kind. Shane considers running out to Shoppers, but if anyone in Ottawa saw him buying cold medicine after that display on TV...would they connect the dots? He considers calling his mom and asking her to drop some off. He's scrolling UberEats for options when he hears Ilya's car pull up.
Ilya slumps in from the garage bundled in sweatpants and a hoodie and looking a mess. His nose is red and shiny underneath and his lips are chapped. He makes an awful snorting sniffling sound at the back of his throat that turns Shane's stomach with both sympathy and disgust.
“Hey,” Shane says softly.
“Harris has given me the plague,” Ilya scowls. “Don't get close. It's – you don't want this.”
His voice is gravelly and muddled with congestion, making his accent sound thicker than usual.
“I made the bed up,” Shane offers, standing awkwardly by the kitchen island, not used to staying so physically separate from Ilya when they're reunited. “Do you want a shower first or-?”
“Yes I should – I -” Ilya begins but his breath catches sharply and he shakes his head with an irritated expression. “Fuck....”
Hehh-TSGHTT! Ehh-TSGHHT!
Two sneezes tumble out and he doesn't move to cover them or turn away. Shane can see the spray visible in the room and he shudders.
“Bless you?” he offers tentatively.
“Not – not done,” Ilya stammers, reaching for a towel that's hanging on the kitchen stove.
Ehh-TSGCGXHHT! Eh-GHSXTT!
He sneezes the second two outbursts partially into the towel and sniffles thickly in the aftermath.
“Ugh,” he groans, closing his eyes and rubbing them with his hand. “Please put me in the shower and drown me, Hollander.”
Shane can't help but laugh a little at the dramatics.
“Sounds like you're already halfway to drowning,” he says. “Have you taken anything? Medicine?”
“Team Doctor gave me pills, yes,” Ilya says wearily. “And an IV fluids before the game. Didn't really help. He sent some more medicine. I took one before I left.”
“Is it a cold or the flu?” Shane asks. “Did you have a fever?”
Ilya shakes his head. “No. Bad cold he said. Boring. Stupid. Who can't play with a cold?”
Ilya is leaning against the kitchen counter looking dead on his feet. He sways a little, catching himself with a steadying hand on the fridge.
“Hey,” Shane says, stepping forward, his worry outweighing his fear of catching this. “C'mon.”
He puts a hand on Ilya's shoulder and before he knows it, he's holding the man tightly and Ilya is trying to pull away.
“Stop,” Shane says, pressing a kiss to Ilya's temple. “Let me take care of you.”
“You will get this stupid cold,” Ilya grumbles.
“Well, I guess you'll have to return this favour later,” Shane replies. “Let's get you showered and in bed.”
Ilya melts against his shoulder, sighing heavily.
“Ugh,” he mutters into Shane's sweatshirt. “Boring boring boring. You're here and trying to get me in bed and it's not even for good reason.”
Shane chuckles.
“If you're a good patient, maybe you'll get a reward later,” Shane teases, stroking Ilya's back.
Ilya's breath catches in surprise and he coughs raggedly, breath hot against Shane's neck.
“Eww,” Shane says, leaning away. “Not if you do that.”
“You suck my dick,” Ilya growls. “Now it's gross if I cough?”
“Your dick doesn't spread the flu,” Shane retorts. “C'mon, nasty.”
Ilya follows him begrudgingly and allows himself to be undressed and led into the steamy shower. He's like putty in Shane's hands, melting at his touch, leaning heavily against the cool tiles as the hot water courses down his body. Shane massages shampoo through his curls, guiding Ilya under the spray to rinse out the suds. Then they stand, arms wrapped around each other, Ilya heavy against Shane, sleepy and warm in the water's heat.
Shane holds tight, letting Ilya relax against him as he runs his fingers along the ridge of Ilya's spine and across his shoulders. Then, without warning, Ilya jerks in Shane's arms and sneezes.
Eh-CGHXTT!
It's a thick, wet sneeze and Shane pulls away to see that Ilya's nose is dripping. The man presses a hand to his nostril and blows, sending a gurgle of snot flowing out and down the drain.
“Kleenex exists for a reason,” Shane says, reaching to turn off the taps.
“Ah yes, very smart,” Ilya quips, shaking water from his hair. “In the shower. Good idea.”
He reaches for a towel and starts to dry himself off but it's clear he's practically asleep on his feet. Shane wraps a towel around his own hips and reaches to help Ilya.
He towels off Ilya's curls and gets him into the bedroom, sitting him on the edge of the bed while he rummages in Ilya's dresser.
“What do you want to sleep in?” he asks.
“Sweatshirt and those blue sweatpants,” he says.
Shane retrieves the clothes and helps Ilya dress before tugging back the covers. The bedroom isn't unusually cold, but Ilya is clearly seeking warmth. For someone who usually sleeps in boxers, it is a funny sight to Shane to see him so bundled up under the blankets.
“Okay,” Shane says, slipping on a pair of sweatpants and climbing into bed beside Ilya. “C'mere, you.”
He pulls Ilya into his arms, tucking the man against his chest.
“Shane...” Ilya grumbles. “You shouldn't...”
He doesn't roll away from Shane's embrace but he keeps his head turned, coughing into his pillow.
“I'll sleep in the other room,” Ilya offers between coughs.
“Shut up,” Shane counters, pressing a kiss to Ilya's damp hair.
“I'm not worth getting sick for,” Ilya continues. “C'mon, Hollander.”
The vibration of Ilya's phone on the nightstand interrupts their arguing and Ilya squints towards the screen.
“Is your mom,” he says.
“She probably watched your game,” Shane says. “D'want me to answer it?”
“No, she likes me more,” Ilya teases, reaching for the phone and swiping to answer it.
“Hello Mrs. Hollander.....yes, Yuna, sorry...yes...I'm fine. A cold only. Yes....ya Shane is here....okay, yes.”
Ilya passes the phone to Shane.
“Hi mom,” Shane says, taking the phone.
“I wasn't sure if you were in Ottawa tonight,” his mom says. “I was calling to see if he needed anything dropped off.”
“No, I'm here. We're good,” Shane says, reaching out with his free arm to tuck Ilya back against his chest and idly running his fingers through Ilya's hair.
“It's just a cold?” Yuna asks. “He didn't look very well during the game tonight.”
“Just a cold,” Shane confirms. “Team doctor checked him out and everything.”
“Okay,” Yuna replies. “Call me if you need anything. Drink lots of lemon water, Shane. You don't want to be out for the Florida series.”
“Yes, mom,” Shane says.
“Okay, I love you. Give my love to Ilya. I hope he feels better.”
“Okay, love you too. Bye.”
Shane hangs up and sets the phone down on his nightstand.
“She says she loves you and she hopes you feel better,” he murmurs, kissing Ilya's temple.
“And for you to not get sick,” Ilya says bitterly.
“Just to try not to get sick,” Shane says. “Stop it. I'm fine. You need to sleep.”
Ilya lets out a long sigh, closing his eyes.
“Cannot breathe through my nose,” he grumbles.
“Well, is that so new?” Shane counters. “Didn't you break it twice? That's why you snore.”
“I do not snore, you liar,” Ilya says, his voice slurring with sleepiness. “My throat is so dry. I keep breathing through my mouth.”
“There's a water bottle on the nightstand,” Shane says. “I filled it up before you got home.”
“Yes, but last night I kept drinking water because my throat would be dry and then I would fall asleep and then wake up cause I needed to piss and repeat again all night. I just want to sleep. 'm so tired.”
“Then stop talking and sleep,” Shane says. “C'mere.”
He urges Ilya to roll over to face him, tucking the man's face against his chest, creating a little pocket of warm air for Ilya to breathe. He runs his hands across Ilya's back, up and down the ridge of his spine through the heavy sweatshirt. It isn't long before he can feel Ilya's breathing even out and his body slacken with sleep.
Manifesting a man who gets so adorably miserable when sick that he’ll try to work on his laptop from bed, only to give up and curl into my side for “just a minute.” 😈
my grandma used to recite the saying "is it better to have loved and lost or to have never loved at all?" and every time my answer would be that i would have rather not loved at all.
she would smile then, and say "then you did not love". i didn't understand what she meant. of course i had loved. i had a broken heart, didn't i? i had the scar to prove it, the inability to eat. i had loved and wished i hadn't. i loved, i thought.
and then i met you, and i fell in love and then i lost you and now i understand because i would feel this pain over and over again just to love you for five extra minutes. i would fix my heart and hand it back to you without hesitation. "look! it's all better now! you can try again" i would tell you, i would cry it out hysterically while waving my taped heart in the air. i would love you a million times knowing i would lose you and i would not care as long as i got to do it. i have loved. i have loved so completely.
Someone who doesn’t sneeze super regularly being sneezy. Each sneeze gets stronger and they can feel the congestion build up, already feeling a headache come on. By the end of the day, their head is pounding and feet are dragging with each step. Slowly beginning to not be able to pronounce certain letters and the sniffing getting more frequent and soupier/stuffed up. Having to open the unopened and rarely used tissues from the closet. Usually being able to sneeze without a tissue to NEEDING one with each fit. The beginnings of a headcold </3
If someone held a gun to my head and said to choose between pathetic men with colds who might sneeze on you accidentally bc they’re too tired and weak to cover in time, and dominant men with colds who will sneeze on you on purpose because they know it drives you insane, then I’d just have to take a bullet tbh.
My boyfriend caught his first cold in our relationship
My boyfriend went to a wedding on Friday and came home with a hoarse voice from all the singing and screaming.
On Saturday, his throat was just still a little sore, but that's normal after screaming every song you know.
When I came over on Sunday, he greeted me with a hug and almost instantly told me that he was going to be chewing gum a lot that day because his throat hurt. I told him that was fine, of course. Though I did think it was weird that his throat still hurt on Sunday afternoon when the wedding was Friday night.
The day was normal, but when we were winding down for the night, I asked him if he wanted me to stay over. Because even at that point when he was pretty sure it was just from using his voice too much, he still didn't feel great.
He said that he wanted me to stay over and that he would call out of work tomorrow. And he was glad he called out because he got a horrible night's sleep. He got up once to take some ibuprofen, and then we cuddled for a bit when he returned. He slept very fitfully and got up another time to get a spoon of honey because the meds did nothing for him.
When morning came, I woke up alone in bed, which is not entirely unusual because he gets up much earlier than me, but that morning I didnt hear him doing anything upstairs.
I got up and went to the living room and to my surprise he's laying cuddled up on the couch. And he was passed tf out.
So I refilled his water bottle, laid down on the other side of the couch, and watched tiktoks on silent until he woke up.
He woke up dazed and I asked him why he went to the couch as I switched the blanket he was using to a comfier one from bed. And he said that he didn't mean to fall asleep up there. He just woke up, went upstairs and decided he was going to be awake. But he eventually sat down on the couch and fell asleep again.
We cuddled for a little while before I told him I was going to run to town to get breakfast for us.
I ended up picking us up some donuts, but I got him some cough drops and a chamomile mint tea from caribou as well.
When I got back, he was much more awake. We ate our food. His voice was just as bad as the night before, if not worse, but now he was also sniffly.
He took a hot shower after we ate. I sat on the couch again, but I could hear him coughing from the shower, and my heart just ached for him.
The rest of the day was filled with cuddles, movies, sniffles, and nose blows (which he mostly excused himself to the bathroom to do, unfortunately)
The few times he did blow his nose in front of me was with a paper towel when we were eating lunch. His blows were always very soft and he almost always pinched his nose from the middle of his bridge down in a swiping motion that was really rough on his nose because he was using paper towel.
It left his nose so cute and red though. A few other things of note are that sometime after lunch, he decided to take his temperature, and he had a low-grade fever. And for those of you who like it (me included) the night I stayed over, he said out loud that he "might be getting sick" and then when his dad called him the next morning to ask why he wasn't at work (life360) he told him that he was sick.
Also, he knows about my kink, but I honestly think he forgets about it sometimes and I don't know if I should really remind him right now haha.
But yeah I'll post again if anything happens when I go over today. No sneezing yet, just absolutely adorable fluff
I came over after he got home from work. He was putting his lunch away in the fridge. I asked him why he hadn't eaten it (almost hoping it was because he didn't feel well enough to) but he said it was because he took a nap during his break because he was dead tired.
After we hugged and finished our greetings, we went downstairs. I turned on the TV and looked for something easy to fall asleep to. We settled on a nature documentary.
We had been cuddling for probably close to 20 minutes, my head on his shoulder with both his arms wrapped around me, when he sneezed. And he never let go. He didn't even try to move away.
He stifled the sneeze, and it sounded like huh'nxt.
It came out of nowhere. There was no hitching, no announcement, hardly any tensing when it actually happened.
I felt immediately hot, my whole body taken over by the unexpected pleasure.
I blessed him and he said thank you. Then he said he had to "keep that one in because he didn't want to sneeze on me."
He was clueless as to just how much I would've enjoyed that.
My boyfriend caught his first cold in our relationship
My boyfriend went to a wedding on Friday and came home with a hoarse voice from all the singing and screaming.
On Saturday, his throat was just still a little sore, but that's normal after screaming every song you know.
When I came over on Sunday, he greeted me with a hug and almost instantly told me that he was going to be chewing gum a lot that day because his throat hurt. I told him that was fine, of course. Though I did think it was weird that his throat still hurt on Sunday afternoon when the wedding was Friday night.
The day was normal, but when we were winding down for the night, I asked him if he wanted me to stay over. Because even at that point when he was pretty sure it was just from using his voice too much, he still didn't feel great.
He said that he wanted me to stay over and that he would call out of work tomorrow. And he was glad he called out because he got a horrible night's sleep. He got up once to take some ibuprofen, and then we cuddled for a bit when he returned. He slept very fitfully and got up another time to get a spoon of honey because the meds did nothing for him.
When morning came, I woke up alone in bed, which is not entirely unusual because he gets up much earlier than me, but that morning I didnt hear him doing anything upstairs.
I got up and went to the living room and to my surprise he's laying cuddled up on the couch. And he was passed tf out.
So I refilled his water bottle, laid down on the other side of the couch, and watched tiktoks on silent until he woke up.
He woke up dazed and I asked him why he went to the couch as I switched the blanket he was using to a comfier one from bed. And he said that he didn't mean to fall asleep up there. He just woke up, went upstairs and decided he was going to be awake. But he eventually sat down on the couch and fell asleep again.
We cuddled for a little while before I told him I was going to run to town to get breakfast for us.
I ended up picking us up some donuts, but I got him some cough drops and a chamomile mint tea from caribou as well.
When I got back, he was much more awake. We ate our food. His voice was just as bad as the night before, if not worse, but now he was also sniffly.
He took a hot shower after we ate. I sat on the couch again, but I could hear him coughing from the shower, and my heart just ached for him.
The rest of the day was filled with cuddles, movies, sniffles, and nose blows (which he mostly excused himself to the bathroom to do, unfortunately)
The few times he did blow his nose in front of me was with a paper towel when we were eating lunch. His blows were always very soft and he almost always pinched his nose from the middle of his bridge down in a swiping motion that was really rough on his nose because he was using paper towel.
It left his nose so cute and red though. A few other things of note are that sometime after lunch, he decided to take his temperature, and he had a low-grade fever. And for those of you who like it (me included) the night I stayed over, he said out loud that he "might be getting sick" and then when his dad called him the next morning to ask why he wasn't at work (life360) he told him that he was sick.
Also, he knows about my kink, but I honestly think he forgets about it sometimes and I don't know if I should really remind him right now haha.
But yeah I'll post again if anything happens when I go over today. No sneezing yet, just absolutely adorable fluff
if you have any more content for k/az 👀 i would love love love to see it
OOOOO OFC NONNIE!!!
However, I currently have three fics in mind progress for that little bastard. I’ll make it a pill so you don’t have to reveal yourself (I’m pretty sure)
Idk ab y’all, but sleepy sneezes… those are my favorites
A character just waking up needing to sneeze… but they aren’t awake enough to comprehend that fact, so they’re laying there with their eyes half lidded and their mouth his hanging open. When it finally comes, they either:
- Sneeze openly, not really awake enough to think it through.
- Muffle it into their pillow/blanket
- Or if they have a partner, muffle it against their partner’s chest/shoulder/back/belly (depending on the cuddle position they’re in)
