Chapter Text
Shane couldn’t believe that Ilya was giggling as he lazily traced his tongue from Shane’s belly button to his nipple. It was actually so rude. You can't do something that hot and then laugh.
“Somethi-” Shane stammered out as Ilya’s tongue circled his nipple, “-something funny, Rozanov?”
Ilya’s eyes looked up at him deviously, half-lidded as he proceeded to continue his tongue’s journey up Shane’s chest. And still with the laughing! Even as Ilya nipped at his collarbone! He'd just woken up! Jesus christ.
Reaching Shane’s mouth, Ilya stopped just short of kissing him, hovering and chuckling.
“You are so whipped.” Ilya smiled, tongue between his teeth.
“What’s so funny about that?” Shane stared at Ilya’s lips.
“It’s funny ‘cause it’s true.” Ilya said matter-of-factly, eyes locked on Shane’s.
The only option was a sneak attack. His reputation was at stake.
Shane grabbed Ilya’s shoulders and flipped him on the bed beside him, grasping at Ilya’s wrists and pushing them into the pillow above his head. He delighted in Ilya’s stoic expression breaking into a surprised “oh” as he knocked the wind out of him, jumping to sit on Ilya’s hips. Now Shane just had to say something, really drive home his dominance.
“Maybe you are the one that is whipped.”
Yeah nailed it.
Ilya’s giggles turned into full on belly laughs as he threw his head back.
“Oh please, somebody save me from my boyfriend! He is going to do sex on me! Help!” Ilya chuckled out, dramatically wiggling in his grasp like a damsel in distress caught on train tracks except if the damsel was a big Russian asshole.
Shane could be intimidating! Of course he could! Here he goes!
“No-one is coming to save you,” Shane growled in a tone that he hoped sounded scary but probably just came off raspy, “You’re MINE... and… you’re… going to do whatever I say.”
Ilya stopped laughing. He cocked his head and looked up at Shane with a crooked smile.
“Please… Hollander…” Ilya put on his best impression of a damsel who definitely didn’t want this, “Have mercy… I was laughing because of a funny joke someone told me. I remembered it and it made me laugh. Not laughing at you. I would never laugh at how easy you are. At how you turn into wobbly jelly with a glance. That when I touch you, your entire body shakes. At the way you get hard when I breathe in your direction-”
Shane broke the monologue with a kiss. It was messy and desperate and not befitting of the character he had taken on of Not-Whipped-Man. Illya chuckled into the kiss, deepening it with that tongue of his. The absolute cheek.
“Somebody! Anybody!” Illya broke the kiss to shout to the empty hotel room, “I am being kissed!”
Suddenly a siren sounded in the room.
Shane jumped off Illya and stood from the bed in one fluid movement. Illya shuffled back to sit up against the pillows, eyes darting to the source of the noise. The tiny speakers in the hotel’s ceiling sure did pack a punch.
“I did not expect the authorities to be that quick,” Illya shouted over the alarm, amused, “Usually they let kisses go with a fine like when you park your car in the wrong spot but instead of car it’s mouth on someone’s face. $300 fine. But Canadian money, so not real money-”
“-can you shut-up a second?” Shane was trying to find where he put his phone and glancing frantically out the hotel window, looking for smoke.
“You did tell me to do whatever you say,” Illya shouted back, rifling around the bedsheets for his underwear, “So no, I will not shut-up. So that I can be punished later for my bad manners. With sex stuff-”
“-Ilya, for real, be quiet! I’m trying to think! If we have to evacuate we can’t leave at the same time,” Shane pulled his shirt on backwards.
“It’s going to be a false alarm, it always is,” Illya somehow cooed and shouted at the same time, continuing the fruitless search for his underwear, “Just come back to bed so I can pretend you’re not whipped for two minutes before you beg me to-”
“ATTTENTION PLEASE!” The siren was broken up by a very stern voice.
Shane stopped trying to turn his shirt around the right way while still being in it.
“DUE TO AN ORDER FROM THE PUBLIC HEALTH AGENCY OF CANADA, THIS HOTEL IS UNDER STRICT QUARANTINE CONDITIONS.”
Ilya stopped looking for his underwear.
“YOU MUST NOT LEAVE YOUR ROOMS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.”
Shane was in the calm before the panic attack.
“A HEALTH OFFICIAL WILL BE VISITING EACH OF YOUR ROOMS WITH MORE INFORMATION. IF THERE ARE ANY EMERGENCIES, PLEASE CALL HOTEL RECEPTION. THANK YOU FOR YOUR CO-OPERATION.”
The sound of doorways being opened and chatter began rising in the hallway. Good luck getting hockey players to listen and follow health instructions. Shane was better at that sort of thing. He’ll stay put.
Shane sunk to the ground as the panic attack took hold.
Ilya, who had thankfully somehow found his underwear, was suddenly beside him, rubbing circles on his back.
“Okay-” Ilya started and stopped.
“Not okay,” Shane breathed out through his knees, “You aren’t supposed to be in this hotel. You’re meant to be- I don’t know where- at that other hotel they split us all between… shit-”
“It’s okay, I will just say I came over to watch movie-”
“-Ilya, it’s 6am. You came over to watch a movie at 6am?”
“Being able to see a really early movie is actually smart, they could make breakfast popcorn-”
“-ILYA.”
“Shane, it’s okay!” Illya was still laughing, “We’ll say… we’ll say… I came to talk about the Foundation! An emergency!”
Shane stilled and started nodding.
“Yeah. Yeah that could work. Alright what? What about the Foundation?”
“Something about… the numbers?” Ilya grasped at straws and then clapped as he thought of an idea, “You’re stealing money! I came to confront you! Thief!”
Shane punched Ilya in the arm.
A knock sounded at the door.
The look of shock on Ilya’s face would have been satisfying if it didn’t match Shane’s own.
Someone knocked at the door again.
“Hello?” A muffled friendly voice called out from behind the door.
Shit. No plan. No time. Maybe Shane can say he was stealing from charity. It explains so many things about their situation. Ilya is topless because they are about to fight. People do that sometimes, take off their tops to fight? Probably not their pants though.
Another knock at the door.
Ilya punched Shane in the arm and gestured for him to say something, ANYTHING.
“One moment!” Shane said and dipped his head between his knees again.
Illya shook him back to reality and Shane sat up quickly. Which was good because Shane looked up just in time to see Ilya attempt to dive under the bed and smack his head on the wooden frame.
Despite everything Shane let out a “HA!”
“Are you okay?” The muffled voice from the door kindly asked.
“Yes, sorry just hit my funny bone!” Shane said knowing full well that hitting your funny bone didn’t make you laugh but his mouth was just saying stuff. Full panic mode.
Ilya, clutching his head with one hand, used the rest of his limbs to scramble fully under the bed. Shane tidied up the sheets so they hung down around Ilya’s bed-based hiding spot. He went to pull on a hoodie before realising it had ‘Ottawa Centaurs’ emblazoned across it and instead chucked it violently into the bathroom. He pulled on a pair of jeans and flattened out his hair, taking a deep breath.
Shane strolled towards the door like a normal guy doing normal guy things.
He opened it to reveal a doctor who despite wearing a face mask, was clearly smiling with her eyes.
“Hello…” the doctor’s eyes searched the iPad she was holding in front of her, “...Shane Hollander! Nice to meet you, my name is Dr Becca, sorry for the rude awakening.”
“That’s no problem, what is going on?” Shane leaned casually against the doorframe like a casual guy.
“Well, I’m sorry to be the one to tell you but unfortunately there is a disease outbreak at the hotel,” Dr Becca tapped at the iPad eyes frowning, “We wouldn’t be holding you if it wasn’t serious.”
“What disease? What are the symptoms? Is it airborne?” Shane’s already spiking fear kicked into top gear.
“It’s a new one, the symptoms are flu-like and we’re not sure if it’s airborne, hence the precautions,” Dr Becca tapped her face mask with the iPad stylus, “But if I could get your temperature that would be great. We’re monitoring everybody, it’s just one person who is confirmed sick but they were at the hotel bar last night so…”
Shane, completely frozen, let the doctor record his temperature with the fancy thermometer gun she had.
“Are you feeling unwell at all?” Dr Becca asked.
Yeah but mostly due to the man hiding under my bed, Shane thought.
“No.” Shane said.
“Well let’s keep it that way!” Dr Becca handed him a little shopping bag of drinks and snacks. “Here’s some supplies, there will be more coming soon. What brings you to Toronto? Holiday?”
Shane was taken aback. He wasn’t used to answering this question so he almost didn’t know what to say. Thankfully his mouth blurted out-
“Hockey. I’m a hockey player and I was here for the All-Star game.”
“Oh that’s fun! I loved hockey growing up but my arms did not,” Dr Becca said before noticing Shane’s quizzical expression, “I broke both my arms like three times. Some say I’m clumsy, I say I was pushed. By who, still not sure. My nemesis was invisible. But one day I’ll track them down…”
Dr Becca was just idly chitchatting as she put information in the iPad. Shane was continuing to be very normal and fine even though he heard a small sneeze from under the bed. Thankfully Dr Becca took that moment to say-
“Oooookie dokie!”
She reached into another bag and handed Shane an info sheet, “So you can find out more about what’s happening on this sheet. If you need absolutely anything, call hotel reception and they’ll bring it up. Hopefully you won’t be stuck here too long!”
“How long do you think this will take?” Shane said calmly.
“Oh, it’s hard to say. I think you’re looking at at least three days.”
Shane hoped his expression was neutral. He was going for neutral.
“Hey! But maybe sooner! Hopefully!” Dr Becca said comfortingly at Shane’s incredibly neutral expression, “Bye for now! Call hotel reception if you feel even the slightest bit sick! See you later, Mr Hollander!”
Dr Becca wandered off down the hall as Shane shut the door. He immediately ran to the bathroom to throw up.
Hovering over the toilet but holding back an anxiety vomit, Shane watched Ilya peer out from under the bed and crawl towards him.
“Are you okay?” Ilya whispered.
“Oh so now you’re being quiet!” Shane whispered back but a bit louder.
“First time for everything!” Ilya failed to whisper.
They sat for a beat on the bathroom floor next to each other. Ilya reached out a hand to rest on Shane’s knee. Shane put his hand on top and gave Ilya’s fingers a squeeze.
“So…” Ilya swallowed, actually looking a little worried, “Is now a bad time to say that I have been feeling a bit sick this morning? What did the doctor say - flu symptoms? I think I have some of those. But no big deal, right?”
If at first you don’t succeed - Shane vomited in the toilet.