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Despite his yearslong reputation as the league’s best troublemaker, Ilya Rozanov usually avoids the penalty box. He lets other players strike first, chirping insults, intercepting plays and scoring goals until his opponents’ tempers get the better of them. Ilya usually skates away unpenalized while his opponents get sent to the box for whatever stupid move they thought was worth it.
Usually. Not tonight, though.
Tonight they were two down and Haas was injured and the players on Buffalo wouldn’t shut up about Ilya and Shane and how they—
Ilya had let his emotions get the better of himself. Five minutes for fighting.
He should focus on the game, Ilya thinks before letting his head stare at the ground. Instead he sits there, letting his thoughts run him through. The game continues: skates whir and boards clatter and the crowd screams on.
Ilya only looks up when the box door opens, sure his five minutes aren’t even close to up.
“Hi.” Shane says with a grin, taking a seat next to him.
It takes Ilya a moment to process all of it. Shane Hollander. Sitting in the penalty box. Grinning during a game they were losing. None of those things add up.
“What—what did you do?” Ilya asks, incredulous.
Shane, still grinning, responds “You weren’t watching the game, Rozanov? I thought you were supposed to be team captain.”
Ilya’s gaze flickers to the ice he should be watching—and notes the lack of players on Buffalo’s side. Then, he looks to the other team’s penalty box, which has a lot more players than just the five that should be on the ice. Which meant that Shane had managed to piss off enough people that they thought jumping the ice was worth it.
Shane.
When Ilya’s focus returns to his husband, Shane just shrugs. “Two for unsportsmanlike behavior,” Shane says, not even trying to hide the smugness on his face.
Unsportsmanlike behavior? Ilya blinks at him, trying to decide if he’s a bad influence on his husband. “What did you do, Hollander?” he repeats.
“I defended my captain.” Shane replies, “And if the other team couldn’t handle their emotions, then it’s their fault they all got boxed, not mine.”
And the absurdity that Shane Hollander, the nicest boy in the entire League, is sitting here in the penalty box, bragging about his unsportsmanlike behavior because he was defending Ilya makes his heart swell. Ilya produces a grin that matches his husband’s. “I love you.”
Shane leans his head against his husband. “Love you too.”
He is definitely a bad influence, Ilya decides.