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They're playing three on three scrimmages when it happens. Shane and Ilya are reffing, and the kids are in a scrum in one corner against the boards. One of the players breaks away and Shane skates after him, determined to keep up with his youthful speed, and mid-sprint up the ice, Shane’s blade clips off.
His fall is spectacular – he goes sprawling, face pressed into the ice, and skids into the boards. Everything in the arena stops because no one knows what to do. Finally one of the children breaks the ice by fucking laughing, and Shane would think they were making fun of him if he didn’t know it was actually hilarious. Like he’s sure that it is probably one of the funniest falls that has ever happened to him, and now with his face squished against the boards, Shane can’t help it – he joins in the laughter.
Shane pushes himself up onto his knees, and as he does so a pair of skates comes into view. Immediately he recognizes the laces and huffs out a breath as he uses the boards to climb up from his knees and onto his one good skate.
“If you’re here to make fun of me, I don’t wanna hear it,” Shane grouses as he pokes Ilya in the chest. His husband catches his hand, and Shane’s breath catches at the contact, even through the thick hockey gloves they’re wearing.
“Aww, would never make fun of you, Hollander,” Ilya says as he presses a kiss to Shane’s cheek. “I came to offer assistance.”
Assistance would be nice, he must admit. So Shane sighs and nods, and offers his gloved hands to Ilya, expecting him to pull him over to the benches. But of course, Ilya has to do this his way. Instead of taking Shane’s hands Ilya bends at the knees, then his strong arms wrap around Shane’s middle and he’s being hauled up in the air. “Ah, god d– darn it, what the… heck? Ilya what the heck?” Shane cries out, careful to tailor his speech to make it appropriate for the children, as he’s tossed over Ilya’s shoulder like he’s a goddamn rag doll.
The kids on the ice are laughing as Ilya skates across the rink to the bench like carrying Shane is nothing. Shane, as much as he loathes this, can’t help but notice that he has a very nice view of Ilya’s ass. If they were anywhere else he might give it a nice slap, but around the children that feels inappropriate, so he just lets his arms dangle, hair standing on end, as he’s fucking carried to the other side of the arena. Once they make it over, Ilya deposits Shane at the exit, and Shane hobbles onto the bench, where he huffs as he sits down.
“I will go get your blade,” Ilya promises, then presses a kiss directly to the tip of Shane’s nose before skating off. He returns moments later, blade in hand, and offers it to Shane.
“Thanks,” Shane grumbles as he accepts the useless piece of metal.
“Hayden, come ref until Shane gets his blade fixed,” Ilya calls, and Hayden is happy to jump into the action.
As Shane’s cooking them dinner that night, his thoughts are interrupted by the sound of Ilya’s laughter from the living room. He assumes his husband is watching tiktoks again, but he can’t help wanting to be in the loop on what’s so funny.
“What are you laughing at in there?” Shane calls, and it only takes a few seconds before Ilya is padding into the kitchen in his sweats and an Irina Foundation hoodie, his phone in one hand and his water bottle in the other. He leans against the kitchen counter and holds his phone out for Shane to watch the video playing. It’s a clip from earlier today when he’d lost a blade, from the vantage point of the stands, as he’s fireman carried across the ice to safety. The video is short, and the song ‘Big Boy’ by Sza plays as Ilya skates him over to the bench, and Shane’s cheeks flush at how prominently his ass is featured in this edit.
“Oh my god. Who posted that?” Shane asks as he stirs his red sauce.
“Harris posted it to the Centaurs tiktok,” Ilya says gleefully. He notices belatedly that it already has 50.1k likes, and thousands of comments, and…
“Fuuuuck,” Shane groans as he rubs his eyes with his hand. He didn’t want to break the internet this way today.
“They think I am very hot,” Ilya preens, and Shane glowers at him. “They also like your ass!” he says as he holds his hands up placatingly.
Shane sighs, but leans in and steals a kiss from Ilya anyway. Ilya grabs the wooden spoon Shane is stirring with and tastes the sauce, nodding his approval.
“Well, I’m glad the general public likes my ass,” Shane grumbles as Ilya slides up and sits on the counter top. Shane sets his spoon aside and parts Ilya’s thighs, stepping between them and resting his hands on Ilya’s knees. Ilya bends down and presses light kisses all across the bridge of Shane’s nose, his cheeks, and his forehead, finally landing a solid, loving kiss on his lips.
“I think they like more of you than just your ass,” Ilya reassures him as he cups Shane’s cheeks in his hands and catches his gaze. “But your ass is especially nice in this video, I think.” Shane squeezes Ilya’s knees and laughs, head falling back as he looks up at his husband.
“Good thing I’m more than just a pretty ass,” Shane teases, chuckling as Ilya’s lips brush against his again.