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Trash Talk
Scott Hunter sat on the bench beside Shane and watched the curious sight unfolding in front of him. He kept one eye on the game of course, but his attention was split between his teammates on the ice and the exchange that Shane was having with none other than Ilya Rozanov.
Between the sounds of the ref and the players and the screams of the fans he couldn’t make out what they were saying but Scott wasn’t an idiot. He watched a smirk curl over the russian's lips as he said something that made Shane tense beside him on the bench.
Finally, when Ilya got off the bench and skated past them he leaned down low to whisper into Shane’s ear and Scott watched his teammate’s eyes light up with anticipation and challenge. He hurried to look away before either one of them could notice.
Once Rozanov was gone Scott turned to Hollander and asked in mock-confusion, “what did he want?”
“Oh, uh, just trash talk, you know…” Shane answered distractedly.
Scott hummed, “he’s an asshole right?”
“Oh yeah totally.” Shane said without any heat behind the words, his eyes glued to where the russian skated across the ice.
Once Shane got off the bench Scott went back to focusing on the game and didn’t think about it anymore until later that night when he watched the post-game press conference.
Laying on his bed in the hotel room Scott clicked through the channels until he found the post-game interview with both captains. His eyes narrowed in concentration as he watched the two of them answering questions.
Shane looked nervous, which he always did in interviews no matter how well the team was doing. His eyes flitted around the room, trying to take in the reporter’s questions. Ilya, sitting too close to him in his own chair at the table, looked almost worse. Scott knew that their rival team's captain didn’t speak English as a first language but usually he only watched Shane’s interviews so it hadn’t occurred to him until now just how little the other captain spoke English.
“Ilya, what do you think about the consequences of trying out new techniques on the ice today?” One reporter asked, shoving a camera into Rozanov’s face.
Scott watched as the russian tried valiantly to understand her words and formulate an answer, his eyes shone with desperation despite his best attempts to appear calm and collected. Then his eyes widened as he watched Shane lean close and whisper something encouragingly into the other man’s ear.
“I think that as a team we need to be more…together when we play, all do same thing.” He said and Scott didn’t miss the way his foot bumped against Shane’s underneath the table in thanks. Shane nodded and to the reporters Scott was sure it appeared thoughtful but Scott knew that it meant something more, it had to.
Emergency Contact
It was mid-season the day that Shane Hollander stumbled into practice looking green. JJ and everyone else watched with concern as their captain took longer than usual to lace up his skates and get onto the ice.
From a distance he saw their coach approach Shane and they exchanged a few words before Coach nodded and patted Shane on the shoulder, gesturing for him to catch up with the rest of them in drills.
“Dude, he looks totally sick today,” JJ mumbled to the teammate next to him as they skated laps to warm up.
“Hollander? Yeah he looks like he’s gonna puke.”
Sure enough, about halfway through the practice Shane rushed off the ice towards the locker room looking pale as a ghost.
When he didn’t return for a long minute their coach finally called a timeout and went to find him. Worriedly, JJ followed behind him.
They found Shane laying on a bench in the locker room, his skates beside him and sweat pouring down his pale face.
“Alright son,” their coach said patiently, “I’m gonna need you to take the rest of today off.”
When Shane sat up and began to argue with him, Coach shook his head firmly, “it’s alright, we don’t have a game until this weekend, you just rest up until then. Is there someone who can come pick you up?”
Weakly, Shane nodded.
“Okay,” Coach said, patting his back, “JJ will stay with you until someone gets here.”
For some reason panic flashed across Shane’s face at those words and JJ flinched, did Shane not like him?
Before he could say anything their coach disappeared and left Shane and JJ alone in the locker room.
Shane groaned, flopping down against the bench again and raising one hand to his eyes to block out the glare of the fluorescent lights. JJ decided to forget about it.
“Do you want to call someone?” he asked quietly when Shane hadn’t moved for a minute.
“Oh yeah fuck I forgot about that can you hand me my phone?” Shane muttered, gesturing to where his phone sat on the opposite bench.
JJ nodded and stood up to grab it. Just as he reached for it the screen lit up with a notification from someone named Lily.
Are you still planning on coming over tonight? The text read.
JJ grinned as he tossed the phone to Shane.
“Someone’s gonna be very disappointed that you're sick,” he remarked.
Once again fear flashed across Shane’s face, twisting his brow and making him frown and JJ instantly felt bad again.
“Hey, I’m sorry, I’m sure she won’t mind and I mean if she does like fuck her right?” He said quickly.
Shane seemed to relax, “um yeah, fuck her.”
He watched as Shane typed out a message in response and then leaned back against the bench again.
“Someone will be here in a minute,” he said.
JJ nodded, “that’s good.”
They sat in companionable silence until Shane’s phone buzzed again a moment later and he sat up with a groan. JJ handed him his shoes and offered his arm to help his teammate stand but Shane shook his head, “it’s fine,” he mumbled, “he’s here now you can go back to practice.”
“Are you sure? At least let me walk you to the car.”
Shane shook his head firmly, wobbling slightly as he strode quickly to the back door.
“Thanks again JJ,” he said as he pulled the door open and let it close behind him.
Before the door shut all the way JJ caught a glimpse of bright blonde hair peeking out of the driver's side of a very nice sports car.
Him.
He rolled the word around in his head.
What Are You Doing Here?
Hayden Pike wasn’t used to seeing Shane laying on a heap on the ice. His captain was always composed, always in control, even when Hayden’s kids were tackling him to the floor and demanding his attention.
So it took a minute for the reality of the situation to hit him. Shane was on the ice, he wasn’t moving, the paramedics were rushing over and Illya Rozanov was still fucking standing there. It had been a clean hit, just a nasty one and Hayden had to urge to yell at Rozanov to go stand with the rest of the team and celebrate the fact that they’d just taken their biggest competition off the ice for the rest of the season. Instead of saying that, Hayden shoved it down in favor of demanding that the paramedics let him come with Shane to the hospital.
“I’m on his emergency contact list,” he insisted as he followed them off the ice, “his parents won’t be able to make it here for hours.”
“Okay fine,” They relented, “just stay out of the way.”
Shane looked very pale and very bruised as they loaded him onto the ambulance.
“Shane, we need you to keep your eyes open buddy,” the paramedics said.
Shane did not open his eyes, instead he mumbled, “you need to tell him, he’ll worry.”
Hayden pulled his phone out to show Shane, “I already texted your parents, they’re on their way, don’t worry,” he said reassuringly.
Shane reached one weak hand up to grasp at Hayden’s shirt as the paramedics moved around them, “not them, Roz…” his voice trailed off and his eyes slipped shut and Hayden was shoved aside by the paramedics as they sped towards the hospital.
Hours later when Hayden paced the halls of the hospital, leaving Shane and his parents to talk to each other, his mind raced. Was he crazy or was the next word out of Shane’s mouth going to be ‘Rozanov’? He immediately dismissed the idea, why would Shane care what Rozanov thought?
His phone buzzed with a text from Yuna, “we’re going to leave Shane to get some more rest, come say goodbye.”
He smiled at his phone and the relationship that he’d built with Shane’s parents over the years of knowing them, and started walking back to Shane’s room.
He caught them in the hallway outside of Shane’s room and Yuna smiled gratefully at Hayden, pulling him into another hug.
“Thank you so much for taking care of him,” she said.
“Of course,” Hayden nodded, “let me know if you guys need anything.”
David patted him on the back, “thank you.”
They said their goodbyes and Hayden slipped back into Shane’s room, taking his place in the chair next to Shane’s bed.
No sooner had he sat down then the door opened again.
Hayden jumped up, “what are you doing here?”
His voice came off harshed then he meant it to but fuck that was his best friend in the hospital bed next to him and he had no idea why Rozanov of all people would be here.
The russian shrugged coolly, “I need to see if my rival is dead or alive.”
Hayden opened his mouth to say something but a sound behind him cut him off.
“Illlyaaa,” Shane smiled, holding his arms out towards the hulking man that was glaring at Hayden.
Hayden froze, whipping around to see Shane’s pleased expression. He’d never seen Shane that happy to see anyone and sure he was on a lot of drugs but…
Ilya stepped forward like he couldn’t ignore Shane’s demand and Hayden watched his teammate’s arms come up to circle around his arch rival’s back before deciding that he’d better leave.
Out in the hallway once more he breathed out a quiet, “what the fuck,” and vowed not to say a single word to Shane who would surely not remember any of this.
Jealousy, Jealousy
Miles might not have known much but by god did he recognize that look on Shane’s face. They were here to dance, to celebrate, to get drunk, and Shane looked like he’d just watched someone kill his dog.
The star hockey player’s thoughts were far from where they should be, which was his girlfriend sitting next to him at the bar begging him to dance, to pay attention to her the same way he was paying attention to something on the other side of the club.
“Did you hear what I said?” Rose asked.
Shane turned back toward her, mouth open as he tried to formulate some kind of an answer. He was cute that way, dumbstruck.
“Um, no sorry.” he muttered distractedly.
Rose sighed and Miles spoke for both of them, dragging them away from the bar determinedly, “Let’s dance.”
On the dance floor Rose seemed happy, swaying her hips to the beat and dragging Shane along with her but Miles watched as Shane’s expression turned more and more unhappy, he looked like he was about to cry.
Wordlessly, he followed Shane’s eyes to where they were drilling holes into a tall blonde guy across the dance floor with his arms around an equally as attractive girl. Oh.
He knew enough from listening to Rose that this guy also played hockey which even in his drunken mind he knew was very very bad for Shane.
Poor Shane. His eyes drifted back to the man in front of him whose entire body was tensed and shaking. He opened his mouth to say something then thought better of it, what could he possibly say that wouldn’t cause more damage to both Shane and Rose?
So when Shane made his excuses and left quickly a moment later Miles held Rose in his arms and danced with her and didn’t say anything.
Jet Lag
Conners knew that Ilya had to be tired. He’d just gotten back from Russia and despite his teammate’s claim, he knew that the blonde still suffered from jet lag even after all these years of flying back and forth between time zones.
Which is why he wasn’t surprised that his teammate had passed out on their flight to Florida. What he was surprised about was the fact that Shane Hollander was also asleep, head tucked into Ilya’s shoulder and drooling on him.
They’d all found it funny when both teams were put on the same flight to the tournament and most of them had been trading barbs back and forth during the flight much to the annoyance of the other passengers who hadn’t signed up to fly with a bunch of rowdy hockey players.
Ilya had fallen asleep almost instantly as soon as they’d taken off, his head tipped back against the seat and mouth open. Conners had watched curiously as Shane sitting next to him fought to stay awake before ultimately slumping forward, his eyes closed and neck at an uncomfortable angle.
Then, his eyes had widened as Shane shifted in his sleep until his cheek was pillowed on Ilya’s shoulder and his hand fisted in the other player’s shirt. Ilya never stirred, in fact both of them seemed to let out relieved sighs and sleep more deeply in each other’s arms.
Soon enough he knew that the other players would notice, likely laugh and take pictures, joking at how they ‘didn’t seem so tough now’. And he knew that when the pictures were posted both Ilya and Shane could laugh and give some speech about the importance of friendships and brotherhood and rest. But…Conners knew, he knew from the way they slotted so easily into each other like they’d spent a lifetime in each other’s arms already.
He just knew.
And he hoped the world would be kind to them.
Summer Sun
It felt a lot easier after telling his parents to call him team up and tell them to come to the cottage for a summer party. It felt easy, saying it on the phone was easy, but actually doing it was another thing entirely.
“You will be ok?” Ilya asked for the hundredth time.
Shane nodded as he hung up the phone, squeezing Ilya’s hand where it rested on his thigh. “Yeah I think so.”
It was easier to tell his teammates who were his best friends and hold off on telling the whole world.
They were going to come over at five and Shane definitely didn’t spend the rest of the day anxiously pacing around the cottage and annoying the shit out of Ilya. By the time the doorbell rang he could tell that Ilya was ready to be done with all of this.
“Thank god,” his boyfriend muttered as they both stood up.
“Let me answer the door,” Shane said and Ilya waved his hands like, go right ahead.
“So much goddamn secrecy out here Hollander,” JJ remarked when he pulled the door open.
“Seriosuly dude do you not have any neighbors out here, that doesn’t freak you out?” Hayden added.
The whole team paused when they saw Shane’s face.
“Are you ok?” Hayden asked.
“Yeah um, I will be, I just gotta tell you guys something,” he said quickly.
He led them back into the living room where Ilya was standing and he felt them all freeze behind him.
Ilya smiled and waved.
“Um,” he said, turning to face them. “I thought-we thought, that we should tell you guys that we’ve kinda been seeing each other like romantically for a while…”
He trailed off, watching their faces for a reaction.
“Not kinda,” Ilya added, unhelpfully.
Shane resisted the urge to smack him.
It was JJ who broke first, “Ohhh so your Lily,” he exclaimed.
“What?” Shane said, “how did you-nevermind.”
“Is that why you came to the hospital?” Hayden said, “you guys were seeing each other then?”
“Way before then,” Ilya said and Shane whipped around towards Hayden.
“You saw him at the hospital?”
“Da, yes, he was very worried about our Shane, I was more worried of course.” Ilya said, shooting Hayden a possessive look.
Hayden threw his hands up with a glare and Shane turned back to Ilya.
“You never told me he saw you there.”
“Didn’t want you to worry, you would not have remembered anyway, were like poor little humpty-dumpty broke your head open.”
Shane scoffed.
“But do not worry, we put you back together again.” He leaned down to press a chaste kiss to Shane’s cheek and the room erupted into gasps and relieved laughter at the joke and the gesture.
His teammates relaxed a little and went to sit down in the living room and Shane and Ilya followed, Shane squeezed Ilya’s hand in silent thanks and his boyfriend squeezed back.
“So that photo of you guys asleep on the plane, that was more than just a friends thing right?” Someone asked.
“Much more,” Ilya said at the same time Shane said, “what photo?!”