Work Text:
At 6:17 on Tuesday morning, Ilya’s phone began vibrating insistently against the nightstand.
Ilya did not move. The man could sleep through thunderstorms, construction, and apparently three consecutive phone calls from someone who had no concept of acceptable morning etiquette. Shane, unfortunately, could not. On the third call, he reached across Ilya and grabbed the phone before the buzzing drove him insane.
The screen lit up with LUCA 👶.
Shane frowned. Luca was the youngest player on the Centaurs and still painfully shy despite having been around long enough that Shane figured he should have stopped looking vaguely startled whenever one of the veterans spoke directly to him. Around Ilya, though, it was worse. Even though Ilya was his captain, he apparently was still enough of a mythical figure in Luca’s mind that a casual compliment from him could leave the kid blushing for five minutes.
So Luca calling Ilya at six in the morning on one of the increasingly rare days when none of them had anywhere to be was unusual enough that Shane answered.
“Hello?”
There was silence.
Then, cautiously, “...Captain?”
“No. Sorry. It’s Shane.”
Another silence, somehow much worse than the first.
“Oh.”
Shane had to bite the inside of his cheek.
“Hi, Luca.”
“Hi.” Luca sounded horrified.
“Sorry. I thought—I called Roz.”
“You did. He’s asleep.”
Beside him, Ilya remained completely unconscious, one arm shoved under his pillow and most of his face buried in it.
“I can wake him up.”
“No! No, it’s okay. Sorry. I shouldn’t have called this early.”
“Luca.”
“I can call later.”
“You’ve called three times.”
That shut him up.
Shane sat up against the headboard.
“What’s wrong?”
There was a long breath on the other end. When Luca finally spoke, his voice was quieter.
“You know how I said I wouldn’t be at practice tomorrow?”
“Yeah.”
“I told Roz yesterday. Because I was supposed to be recovering from the appointment today.”
It took Shane a moment to remember what appointment he meant. Then it clicked.
“Your wisdom teeth.”
“Yeah.” Another pause.
“I’m going to cancel it. So I can come to practice tomorrow. So yeah. That was it.”
Shane looked down at Ilya with a small smile.
There was something so earnestly Luca about that explanation.Of course Luca had been lying awake panicking about dental surgery and had somehow decided the urgent administrative issue was making sure his captain knew he would, in fact, be available for practice the following morning.
“Okay,” Shane said. “Why are you canceling?”
“I don’t want to go.”
The whispered answer came so quickly that Shane stopped smiling. Luca sounded embarrassed by it too. Shane could practically hear him wishing he could pull the words back.
“I know that sounds— I shouldn’t be freaking out about getting my wisdom teeth out.”
“Says who?”
Luca didn't answer. Shane glanced at the clock.
“How long have you been awake?”
A reluctant pause. “Since three.”
“Jesus, Luca.”
“I tried to go back to sleep, I just couldn't. I’m sorry. Forget about it okay? I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
“Luca wait. Do you want me to wake him?”
“No.” The answer was immediate.
Then, much more quietly, “Maybe.”
Shane smiled. “Hold on.”
He put his right hand against Ilya’s arm.
“Ilya.” Nothing.
“Ilya.” A grunt.
“Somebody is having a crisis.” One eye opened.
“What?” Shane held out the phone. “Luca.”
That got the other eye open. Ilya took the phone, his voice rough with sleep.
“Haas?”
Shane could hear Luca’s relief even from where he was sitting.
“Hi. Sorry.” Ilya frowned.
“Why you sorry?”
“I know I said I wouldn’t be at practice tomorrow because I’d be recovering from my appointment, but I’m going to cancel it. So I’ll be there.”
Ilya stared blankly at the ceiling for several seconds. Then he looked at Shane. Shane mouthed, He's scared.
Ilya's expression changed. Not dramatically. Just enough.
“No,” he said into the phone. Luca went quiet.
“No?”
“No practice.”
“But if I cancel—”
“You are not canceling.”
“But—”
“Haas. What time is appointment?”
“Nine.”
“And you have ride?” Another pause. Ilya closed his eyes. “Luca.”
“I was going to Uber.”
Ilya sat up.
“No.” Shane covered his mouth, already knowing where this was going.
“You are not taking Uber alone to have four teeth pulled while you are terrified.”
“I’m not terrified.”
“You called me at six in morning.”
“Okay, maybe a little. You don't have to—”
“Luca.” The captain voice. Even Shane straightened a little.
“Good. We pick you up at eight.”
“We?” Ilya looked at Shane. Shane raised his eyebrows. Apparently he had just been volunteered.
“Yes. We.”
“Seriously, you guys don't have to do that.”
“We know.”
“I can just reschedule.”
“No. Stop screwing around. You already spent whole night being scared. You do not get to do it again next week.”
Luca made a small, miserable sound. Ilya softened. “You don't have to want to go. You just have to get dressed and let us take you.”
There was silence. Then Luca said, very quietly, “Okay.”
“Good. Try sleep for one hour.”
“I don't think I can.”
“Then lie down and be miserable horizontally.”
That finally got a small laugh out of him.
“Okay.”
“We see you at eight.”
“Thanks.”
Ilya hung up and dropped the phone onto the bed. For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.
Then Shane said, “We?” Ilya pulled the sheet back over himself.
“You answered phone. Now involved. He’s gonna need both of his parents.”
Shane laughed. Ilya glanced at the clock, then back at Shane. A slow smile appeared.
“And good news. Daddy and Mommy do not have to be responsible for another hour. Plenty of time.”
“For what?” said Shane. Ilya finally looked at him. There was a beat before one corner of his mouth lifted. “I see two options. We go back to sleep...”
Ilya rolled onto his side and slid an arm around Shane’s waist, pulling him closer beneath the sheets.
“Or we find more interesting way to spend next hour.”
Shane laughed. “You were literally unconscious thirty seconds ago.”
“I recover quickly.”
“Apparently.”
Ilya pressed a lazy kiss below his ear.
“Your choice, Hollander.”
“You're ridiculous.”
“Mm. But now you are not moving away.”
Shane looked at the clock, then back at him.
“We have to leave by seven forty-five.”
Ilya's smile widened. “Plenty of time.”
———————————————————————-
Ninety minutes later, Luca opened his apartment door looking like he had slept in his clothes. He had a hoodie pulled over his head and his hands shoved deep into the front pocket. He was shivering slightly, though Shane couldn't tell if it was from the cold or nerves, and somehow the oversized hoodie made him look impossibly small. It was ridiculous. Luca was a professional hockey player, not a kid, but he looked so thoroughly miserable standing there that Shane felt a sudden, almost overwhelming urge to pull him into a hug. He resisted. Mostly because Luca already looked embarrassed enough to spontaneously combust, and Shane suspected being hugged on the doorstep might actually finish him off.
Instead, he settled for a quiet, “Oh, buddy.”
Ilya walked past Shane and looked Luca up and down.
"You have wallet?"
"Yes."
"Phone?"
"Yes."
"Health card?"
Luca patted his pocket.
"Good. Shoes."
"I'm wearing shoes."
"Excellent. Already doing better than expected."
Luca gave him a miserable look. Ilya clapped him on the shoulder.
"Come."
———————————————————————-
The drive started quietly. Too quietly. Luca sat in the back seat with his hands locked together so tightly his knuckles had gone white. Every few minutes Shane caught him taking a deep breath that did absolutely nothing to calm him down.
Finally Ilya looked over his shoulder.
"Haas."
"Yeah?"
"If you keep staring out window like that, people will think we are driving you to execution."
Luca gave him a wounded look.
"Stop making face."
"I can't help it."
"Sure you can."
Luca crossed his arms and huffed out something that was almost a laugh, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. A second later, a tiny, miserable whimper slipped out of him. Luca froze. His eyes went wide with horror, as if he couldn't believe the sound had actually made it out of his body and, worse, into a car containing both his captain and Shane. Neither of them said anything. Shane caught Ilya watching him in the rearview mirror. The teasing vanished from Ilya’s face.
He remembered that feeling. Not the wisdom teeth specifically. Just being twenty, alone in a country that wasn’t yours, trying to convince yourself that you were grown enough to handle everything because there wasn’t anybody close enough to take care of you if you couldn’t. He remembered translating medical forms in his head, pretending he understood everything, wishing someone older would simply tell him where to stand and what to do. His chest tightened. He was strangely glad Luca had called. Ilya twisted around in his seat.
“Hey.” Luca looked up.
“You don’t have to be brave today.”
Luca frowned. “I’m trying to be.”
“I know.” Ilya’s voice was quieter now. “I get it.” The car fell silent again, but it was a different kind of silence.
”When I moved here,” Ilya said after a moment, “I used to avoid appointments for months because I hated doing serious things in English. Doctor. Insurance. Dentist. All of it.”
“You?”
“Yes, me.”
“I thought you were just... good at everything.”
Ilya barked a laugh. “You called me,” Ilya continued. “I’m happy you did.”
Luca looked down at his hands.
“I almost didn’t.”
“I know.”
“I felt stupid.”
“You called your captain because you were scared. That is significantly less stupid than getting into an Uber alone and pretending you were fine.”
Luca finally looked up. “You really don’t mind?”
Ilya shook his head. “No. Sometimes being captain is giving speeches. Sometimes it’s dragging you to dentist.”
A tiny smile appeared.
———————————————————————-
The clinic was quiet when they arrived. Luca filled out his forms, then sat between Shane and Ilya with one knee bouncing hard enough to shake the row of chairs.
Shane put a hand on it. "You're okay."
Luca nodded, but his eyes stayed fixed on the closed door leading to the treatment rooms. “You know what I don’t understand?” he said after a moment. “In the States, don’t they usually put you to sleep for this?”
“Not always,” Shane said. “But sedation seems to be more common there, yeah.”
Luca stared at the door. “I should’ve done that.”
Ilya looked over. “What?”
“I should’ve asked them to put me to sleep.”
“You specifically said you didn’t want sedation when you booked this,” Shane reminded him.
“I was an idiot when I booked this.”
“That was two weeks ago.”
“I was a different person.”
Ilya snorted. Luca ignored him. “Why did I think staying awake was better? I’m going to know what they’re doing.”
“You’re not going to feel them taking the teeth out,” Shane said. “You’ll feel pressure and movement, but they’ll make sure you’re properly numb first.”
“That’s the part I’m scared of. The needles.”
Ilya's expression flickered. Shane noticed. Luca, fortunately, did not.
“What does it feel like?” Neither of them answered immediately.
Luca looked between them. “Why did you both just do that?”
“Do what?” Shane asked.
“That pause.”
“There was no pause.”
“There was absolutely a pause.”
Ilya sighed. “Is like when they freeze you for cavity.”
Luca stared at him. “I’ve never had a cavity.”
Ilya blinked. Then he looked at Shane.
Shane shrugged. “Neither have I.”
Ilya rolled his eyes dramatically. “Oh, I am so sorry, Mister Perfect.”
Shane gave him an innocent look while shaking his head. “Such a dirty mouth on you, Rozanov.”
Luca made a startled noise that turned into a laugh before he could stop it.
Ilya looked deeply offended. “You love my dirty mouth.”
Luca turned deep red, but he was actually smiling now. For approximately four seconds.
Then his gaze drifted back to the treatment-room door, and the smile disappeared. “Okay, but seriously. What did it feel like?”
Ilya’s amusement faded too. “The freezing?”
“All of it.”
“Well, for cavity, first they freeze you. Then you get drilling, which is mostly noise, but you can feel vibration through whole tooth. Very strange. Sometimes you smell—”
Luca’s eyes widened. “You smell it?”
“Dude,” Shane cut in.
Ilya looked at him.
“What?”
“Stop.”
“I am explaining.”
“You are actively making it worse.”
“I am giving useful information.”
Luca looked slightly horrified now, which Ilya clearly found just funny enough to keep going. “Anyway, needle is scary part, but honestly, much better than alternative.”
Luca hesitated. “What alternative?”
Ilya gestured vaguely toward his mouth.
“Having them pull four teeth without it while you're screaming.”
Luca went completely still.
Shane stared at Ilya. “Ilya.”
“What? Is true.”
“Why would you put that image in his head?”
“I am helping him appreciate modern dentistry.”
“You’re terrorizing him.”
Luca made a quiet, distressed sound. That wiped the smile off Ilya’s face. “Okay, okay.” He shifted closer, his shoulder bumping Luca’s. “No more.”
Luca eyed him suspiciously. Ilya lowered his voice. “Needle is not nice. I won't lie to you. But it is a few seconds, and then you get numb. They check before they do anything, and if you feel something you tell them. That’s it.”
“A few seconds?”
“Yes. For each one.”
“How many needles?”
“Well this I don’t know. I’m not dentist.”
Luca looked at Shane.
“Depends on what they need to numb,” Shane said. “You have four teeth in different areas, so probably more than one. But you can ask them to explain everything before they start. You can also ask them to stop if you need a second.”
Luca swallowed. “What if I panic?”
“Then you panic,” Ilya said.
Luca frowned at him. “That’s your advice?”
“Yes. You panic, they stop, you breathe, then you keep going. Nobody gives trophy for sitting perfectly still and pretending you are not scared.”
Something in Luca’s face softened, though his knee was still bouncing under Shane’s hand. Then the treatment-room door opened. Every trace of color disappeared from his face.
The assistant smiled. "Luca?"
He stood slowly. Then looked at Shane. Then Ilya.
"Can one of you come?"
Ilya immediately pointed at Shane. "Him."
Shane blinked. "What?"
"He is comforting."
"You've known him longer."
"I am not comforting."
Luca looked between them. "Please… Captain?"
Ilya’s face did something almost comical, a mixture of disbelief and mild horror.
"Me?"
"Please."
Ilya looked at Shane with the expression of a man being asked to defuse an explosive.
Shane stood and squeezed his shoulder. "Go."
"I don't know what to do."
"Sit there. Let him crush your hand. Tell him he's fine."
"This is terrible plan."
Shane got to his feet and started toward the exit. "I’ll be back before he’s done.”
Ilya frowned. “You’re not waiting here?”
“No. I’m going to get supplies.”
“What supplies?”
Shane was already reaching for his coat. “Recovery supplies.”
Ilya narrowed his eyes. “Do not go crazy.”
Shane gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Just some stuff for the baby.” And gave a wink in Luca’s direction.
The assistant led Ilya and Luca through the door.
Shane watched them disappear.
Then he went shopping.
———————————————————————-
The pharmacy was next door to a grocery store, which meant Shane could theoretically acquire everything in one efficient and reasonable trip.
Instead, he lost his mind.
He started with sensible things. Ibuprofen, after checking the surgeon's printed instructions Luca had forwarded him. Extra gauze. A flexible cold pack. Then Shane saw a second cold pack shaped like a smiling blue penguin. Haasy would like that. He put it in the basket.
Soft foods came next: applesauce, yogurt, pudding, instant mashed potatoes, broth, soup, protein shakes, bananas, eggs. He stood in front of the ice cream freezer for several minutes trying to remember Luca's favorite flavor. Ilya would know.
Shane texted him. What ice cream does Luca like?
No response. Of course there was no response. Ilya was currently trapped in oral surgery. Shane got vanilla, chocolate, and cookie dough. Then he remembered that crunchy pieces were probably a terrible idea immediately after extractions. He bought strawberry instead.
He passed the home section. This was where things deteriorated. There was a soft gray throw blanket on sale. Luca owned blankets. Obviously Luca owned blankets. Probably. Shane put it in the cart.
Beside the blankets were microwaveable heat-and-cold plush animals. One was a stuffed sloth filled with something that could be chilled. Shane picked it up. "This is ridiculous," he told himself. He put it in the cart.
Pajamas. He absolutely did not need to buy Luca pajamas. Then again, Luca was twenty-one, lived alone, and seemed to own almost exclusively Centaurs-issued clothing. There was a very real chance the kid normally slept in nothing but boxers and an old team T-shirt. Shane, personally, always felt better when he was miserable and wearing something ridiculously soft, and apparently that was enough evidence to justify buying sleepwear for another grown man.
Five minutes later, Shane was comparing two pairs because one had tiny hockey sticks on it and the other had cartoon sharks. The sharks won.
Baby shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo—
“Oh, fuck off,” Shane muttered to his own brain as he dropped them into the cart.
He added fuzzy socks. Then lip balm. Then a new toothbrush because apparently he had become somebody's mother. He found electrolyte drinks. A reusable water bottle with a straw went into the cart before he remembered straws were usually discouraged after extractions because suction could disturb the clots. He put it back with such force that another shopper looked at him. "No straws," Shane muttered.
By the time he reached checkout, the cart looked as though a small child had been diagnosed with a combination of influenza, heartbreak, and winter was coming. The cashier looked over the mountain of soft food, ice packs, fuzzy socks, shark pajamas, and the stuffed sloth, then gave Shane a small, sympathetic smile.
"Someone sick?"
"Wisdom teeth."
"Oof."
"He's twenty-one."
The cashier’s eyes dropped to the shark pajamas. Shane followed her gaze.
“Oh,” she said.
“Yeah.”
She scanned the pajamas.
Shane stared very intently at the card reader.
———————————————————————-
While Shane was buying enough supplies to establish a minor recovery ward, Ilya was having one of the worst mornings of his life. Not because anything was going wrong. That was the problem. Everything was completely normal, and Luca was still terrified. The treatment room was bright and aggressively clean. Luca sat in the dental chair while the oral surgeon reviewed the plan: all four wisdom teeth were sufficiently erupted or accessible that he expected a straightforward procedure. They would use local anesthetic only, as discussed beforehand. Luca would remain awake. If he needed a break at any point, he could raise his hand. Ilya sat in the chair against the wall. He hated every word. Not because the surgeon was doing anything wrong. He was calm and clear and apparently excellent. But Luca kept looking at Ilya. Every explanation ended with Luca glancing sideways as if Ilya had some authority over the situation. Ilya had none. He was a hockey player. He had been selected for this role because Shane had abandoned him to buy pudding.
"You okay?" Ilya asked.
Luca nodded too quickly. The assistant clipped the bib into place. The surgeon applied topical anesthetic. Luca's fingers tightened around the chair arms. Ilya stood. He did not know why. He just did.
"Hey."
Luca looked at him.
"Give hand."
"What?"
"You are going to destroy chair. Destroy me instead."
Luca laughed once, shakily, and held out his hand. This was Ilya's second mistake. Luca had the grip strength of a professional athlete experiencing mortal terror. The first local anesthetic injection went into the upper right. Luca's hand closed around Ilya's. Ilya nearly swore. The surgeon worked slowly, warning Luca before the pinch and explaining that the pressure afterward was normal. Luca's eyes stayed fixed on Ilya.
"Ow."
"I know."
Luca's grip tightened. Ilya reconsidered every choice that had brought him here. The second upper injection was similar. Then came the lower blocks. Luca visibly tensed when the surgeon explained that these injections were farther back.
"I don't like this."
"I know," Ilya said.
"I really don't like this."
"Look at me baby. Not needle. Me."
Luca's breathing was getting too fast. Ilya leaned closer.
"Slow."
The needle went in. Luca crushed his hand. Ilya let him.
"Slow breath."
The anesthetic deposited. Luca's eyes watered. Ilya's stomach turned over. He had taken hits at full speed from men who weighed two hundred and thirty pounds. He had played through a fractured finger. He had watched teammates get stitched on benches. This was somehow worse. Because Luca was scared. Because Luca trusted him. Because Ilya could not fix it. When the injections were finished, they waited for the numbness. Luca's lower lip gradually became heavy. He touched it.
"That's so weird."
"Do not chew it."
"I wasn't going to."
"You absolutely were."
The surgeon tested the areas carefully. No sharp sensation. Then the procedure began. There was pressure. There were instruments. There were sounds Ilya deeply preferred not to identify. The first upper tooth came out quickly. Luca made a startled noise.
"That's one," the surgeon said.
"Already?"
"Already."
Ilya smiled. "See? You are excellent at losing teeth."
Luca rolled his eyes. The second upper tooth took longer. Luca's hand remained locked around Ilya's. By the time they moved to the lower teeth, Ilya's fingers were numb. Then Luca’s face changed. It happened quickly. He had been tense and pale all morning, but suddenly the color drained even further from his face. His hand loosened. Ilya noticed immediately. "Luca?" Luca swallowed and lifted his left hand. The surgeon stopped.
"I feel weird."
"What kind of weird?"
"Hot."
The assistant was already watching him closely. Luca's forehead had gone damp.
"I think I'm going to throw up." His eyes unfocused slightly. Ilya's heart slammed against his ribs. The clinical team moved with reassuring speed. The chair was repositioned so Luca was flatter, his legs slightly elevated. The surgeon explained calmly that it looked like a vasovagal response, something that could happen with anxiety, needles, or stress. Luca's breathing became shallow.
"Captain."
"I'm here."
"I don't—"
"Hey." Ilya moved closer. Luca looked at him. Ilya took his hand again, this time enclosing it between both of his. "You are okay."
"I feel like I'm going to pass out."
"Then pass out. Very dramatic. I will tell everyone."
Luca gave the weakest possible laugh.
"Seriously."
"Seriously. They know what this is. You are safe."
The assistant placed a cool cloth against Luca's forehead. Ilya kept talking. He had no idea what he was saying half the time. He just knew that whenever he stopped, Luca’s eyes started drifting and his breathing got shallow again, so Ilya filled every second of silence he could. And when he ran out of stories, he started telling Luca the truth.
“You’re doing so good, Haasy.”
Luca swallowed, his fingers tightening weakly around Ilya’s hand.
“Seriously. I know this sucks. I know you’re scared, but you’re doing everything they ask.”
Ilya squeezed his hand. “I’m proud of you.”
Something in Luca’s expression shifted. It was small, almost hidden beneath the lingering fear and the embarrassment of having nearly passed out in front of his captain, but Ilya saw it. Luca’s eyes dropped for a second.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Ilya nudged his knee with his own. “Very proud.”
Luca looked back at him.
“You just need to keep looking at me.”
“I am.”
“Good boy.”
A faint flush crept across Luca’s cheeks.
Ilya paused.
Interesting.
Luca’s eyes narrowed immediately.
“Don’t.”
“I didn't say anything.”
“You’re thinking something.”
“I am thinking you have more color now. This is medically good.”
Luca’s blush deepened.
“Shut up.” Ilya grinned and squeezed his hand again.
“See? Much better.”
Luca's color gradually returned. The surgeon waited until he felt completely steady before discussing whether to continue.
"We can stop and finish another day," he said. Luca looked at Ilya. Ilya deliberately gave him nothing.
"No opinion?"
"This is your mouth."
Luca breathed in. Then out. "I want to finish."
The surgeon nodded. "Okay. We take it slowly."
The remaining teeth came out without another episode. Ilya's hand did not survive. When the last one was finished and the gauze was placed, Luca looked exhausted, numb, and deeply offended by the universe. Ilya stood and flexed his fingers.
"You owe me new hand."
Luca tried to answer around the gauze. It sounded like, "Fuck you."
———————————————————————-
Ilya walked Luca out of the clinic slowly, one hand hovering near his elbow even though Luca seemed steady enough now. He was pale, quiet, and swollen around the gauze, but at least he was upright. Shane was waiting for them in the car, parked directly in front of the clinic. Ilya opened the back door and helped Luca inside.
“Easy.”
Luca sank into the seat with a tired little groan. Ilya made sure he was settled, closed the door, then walked around the car and opened the passenger door. He stopped. The entire seat was buried under shopping bags. Ilya stared at them. Then he stared at Shane.
“What the fuck?”
Shane looked entirely unapologetic.
“I got supplies.”
“This is supplies?”
From the back seat came a faint, muffled sound that might have been a laugh. Ilya looked at the bags one more time, apparently decided there was no point fighting whatever had happened while he was gone, and shut the passenger door again. He climbed into the back beside Luca instead.
Shane twisted around in his seat. His face softened immediately when he saw Luca.
"Hey. How'd it go?"
"He almost fainted."
Shane's eyes widened. "What? You okay?"
Luca nodded. His eyes looked suspiciously wet. Shane pretended not to notice. Then Ilya looked at the bags once again.
"What did you buy?"
"Stuff."
"Why six bags? You bought store?"
"Basically."
———————————————————————-
At Luca's apartment, Shane unpacked everything across the kitchen counter. Ilya watched in mounting disbelief.
"Three ice creams?"
"I didn't know what he liked."
Luca, who had changed into the shark pajamas with absolutely no resistance, was sitting on the couch wrapped in the gray blanket, the stuffed sloth pressed against his cheek. Ilya pointed at it.
“Why sloth? It’s for kids.”
Shane glanced at Luca. “He seems pretty happy with it."
Ilya considered this, then nodded. “You’re right. Our small baby deserves it.”
Luca slowly gave him the finger without moving the sloth. Ilya grinned. “You see? My son.”
Shane arranged medications according to the surgeon's written instructions and set alarms on Luca's phone so nobody had to rely on memory.
"Water?" Luca nodded. "Small sips." Luca drank. "Food later when you're ready." Another nod.
Ilya dropped onto the couch beside him. Luca leaned against him immediately. Ilya looked down. Then at Shane. Shane smiled. Ilya mouthed, Baby.
Shane's smile widened.
Luca mumbled something.
"What?" Ilya asked.
"Movie."
"You want movie?"
Luca nodded.
"What movie?"
There was a long pause. Then, around the gauze and numbness: "Ratatouille."
Ilya stared at him. "Of course."
Twenty minutes into the movie, Luca was asleep. His head had migrated from Ilya's shoulder to a pillow. The sloth was still pressed against one cheek. The gray blanket covered him up to his chin. The shark pajamas were visible at the ankles above the fuzzy socks. Ilya stood carefully.
They moved into the kitchen. Shane kept his voice low. "Tell me what happened."
Ilya leaned against the counter.
"He scared me."
Shane's expression changed. "The fainting?"
"Yes and before. All of it really."
Ilya looked toward the living room.
"He was holding my hand so hard. He kept looking at me like I know what to do."
"You did know."
"No. I absolutely did not."
"You stayed."
"That's not the same."
"It kind of is."
Ilya rubbed his face.
"When he went white, I thought something went really wrong."
Shane stepped closer.
"You handled it."
"Doctors handled it."
"And you handled him."
Ilya looked down at his hand. There were crescent-shaped marks in his skin from Luca's nails.
Shane took it gently. "Jesus."
"Strong little man."
Shane traced one of the marks with his thumb.
"He asked for you because he trusts you and he needed you."
"Bad judgment."
Shane smiled. “No. I’d choose you to come with me too.”
Ilya smiled faintly. It felt good to be wanted. Needed.
Shane leaned against him. For a minute they listened to the quiet sounds from the living room and the movie playing low on the television.
Then Ilya said, "You bought him pajamas."
Shane immediately became defensive. "He needed comfortable clothes."
"He owns comfortable clothes."
"You don't know that."
"I have seen him wear sweatpants."
"Those aren't recovery pajamas."
Ilya stared. "Recovery pajamas."
"Shut up."
"And emotional support sloth."
Ilya kissed the side of his head. "You went full mother."
"I panicked."
"You were not even at appointment."
"I panicked remotely."
Ilya laughed quietly.
Then his eyes moved back toward Luca. "He really is like our kid today."
Shane went still. The sentence hung between them. Ilya had meant it as a joke. Mostly. But Shane didn't laugh. "Yeah," he said.
Ilya looked at him. Shane was still watching Luca. Ilya’s chest tightened with a sudden rush of affection. God, he couldn’t wait to have kids with Shane.
A soft, uncomfortable groan came from the living room. They both moved instantly.
Shane reached Luca first and crouched beside the couch. “Any pain?”
Luca answered with a muffled, miserable noise. “Is that a yes?” Another noise.
Ilya leaned over the back of the couch, his expression immediately softening. “Oh, sweet baby.”
Luca’s face scrunched up into an offended little angry-kitten expression that could almost rival Shane’s. Then, without saying a word, he slowly pulled one hand out from under the blanket and raised his middle finger.
Ilya stared at him, then at Shane.
“Wow. Genetics. He really is our son.”