Chapter Text
‘Something is wrong with Shane Hollander.’
Scott looks up from the text that his fiancé, Kip, sent him a little before the second intermission. Was there something wrong with Shane Hollander that he didn’t pick up on? If so, what could it be?
Sure, the Admirals were beating the Metros with Scott taking credit for two goals scored. That didn’t mean that there was something wrong with their Captain, Shane Hollander. He wasn’t playing his best game by far, but there could be numerous reasons for that. Things didn’t always go everyone’s way any given game depending on the team dynamics or even outside circumstances. Scott was sure that was all it was.
‘I’m sure he’s fine.’ Scott shot Kip a quick text back. ‘Gotta get back on the ice. Love you.’
Scott set his phone back in his locker before rising to his feet. Soreness spread across his shoulders, shooting down into his lower back. He couldn’t wait for this game to be over and for him to return home to Kip and kiss him silly. All his pain from the game would be forgotten once he got Kip into bed.
Shaking his head to clear it, Scott walked down the locker room and back to the bench, ready for the final period. He could get through this as he got through every other game. Knowing Kip was in the stands watching him only encouraged him further, gaze racking the crowd for where he knew Kip was sitting. His heart fluttered in his chest when he saw him, nibbling on a pretzel he must’ve gotten during the intermission.
Scott was called out and he stepped onto the ice, skating to the center of the rink where Shane Hollander, Captain of the Metros skated up to meet him. His head was bowed, appearing much more tired than he should be for just coming off of halftime. His stick wasn’t even pressed to the ice yet, and when he finally did lift his head, Scott was surprised to see how sunken his eyes appeared and how pale his skin was.
“Hollander,” he started as he dropped into position.
Shane gave a small nod of his head. “Hunder.”
Scott winced at Shane’s congested words. How hadn’t he noticed that earlier? Maybe because he was so in his head the first period that he didn’t even notice the catch in Shane’s voice when they faced off the first time. Perhaps it wasn’t this bad when they first started the game and all this exhilaration drained him. It also didn’t help how cold it was and all the padding in the world wasn’t going to warm them up on the ice.
“You good, Hollander,” Scott found himself asking. Kip would kill him if he didn’t at least try and engage with him. They may have never seen eye-to-eye in the past but ever since Shane disclosed his most coveted secret with him one night, Shane felt a wave of protectiveness for him. He was so young to carry such a secret, one that Scott himself carried for his entire career. He knew why Shane was still reluctant to say anything as even with Scott out, that didn’t mean that Shane’s situation was any less complicated. Scott gave him space and became an ear to listen to, along with Kip if Shane ever needed to vent.
Shane looked up, sniffling against the rising congestion that pooled in his sinuses. When that didn’t work, he swiped the back of is glove against his runny nose, Scott making a note not to shake his hand after the game was over.
“Never bedder.”
Although Scott wanted to press more, they had a game to start and the ref was waiting on them. Scott hunched his shoulders forward, ready for the puck to drop. Shane did the same, yet when the puck finally struck the ice, Scott easily overtook him with Shane struggling to keep up.
The rest of the game continued much like that with the Metros scrambling to account for their Captain’s sluggishness. It was a surprisingly easy win for the Admirals, one that Scott could hardly take all the credit for. Still, he celebrated along with his teammates before lining up to shake hands with the Metros and congratulate them on their attempts. Scott was civil with everyone until he reached Shane.
The dark haired man looked even worse than before, a coughing fit unable to be contained through tightly pressed lips. He turned away into his elbow to smother the worst of the fit, turning back to eye Scott warily before offering his hand to shake.
Scott did so out of mere politeness (and because the cameras were still rolling) making a mental note to wash his hands at the soonest possible moment. His suspicions were only confirmed a moment later when Shane sneezed helplessly on his way back to the locker room, a few of his teammates looking on while also keeping their distance. Clearly they didn’t want whatever bug Shane was tangling with.
The rest of the evening was a blur between press and their after game meeting. By the time Scott was finally free from his responsibilities and ready to find Kip, almost everyone else already left. He grinned from ear to ear when he saw Kip waiting for him where he always did, checking his phone until he heard Scott’s approach.
Kip launched himself at Scott, the two kissing deeply with Scott’s fingers finding themself tangled into Kip’s short hair. Kip moaned against him, deepening the kiss until they both reluctantly pulled away. There was something so freeing about Scott being able to kiss the love of his life without the fear of people finding out. He wished the same for Shane and Ilya when they finally decided to tell the world that they were together.
Speaking of which….
“Are we ready to go,” Scott asked, reaching for Kip’s hand.
Kip stayed planted on the spot, pulling Scott back when he tried to walk away. “Hey, we can’t leave just yet,” he argued.
“And why not?”
Kip shot him a knowing look. “I know that you read my text at intermission. C’mon, you know something is off with him as much as I do.” Kip lowered his voice just in case the odd person actually heard them. “Your team is great and all, but even you guys can’t beat the Metros by that many goals without something not being right with their star player.”
As much as Scott hated to agree, Kip was right. He saw firsthand how Shane was really feeling if that coughing fit from earlier was any indication. He could practically feel the heat radiating off of him when they shook hands at the end of the game.
“I think he’s sick, Kip. Probably a cold or the flu or something,” Scott replied with an unbothered roll of his shoulders in an effort to release the tight knot of muscle below his left shoulder blade.
Kip’s brow furrowed in sympathy. “Poor kid. Does he have anyone to look after him?”
“You know as well as I do that Boston is on the other side of the country right now. Hell, they may not even be in this country.”
Kip brightened. “All the more reason to invite him to stay with us for the night.”
“He….what?”
Kip chuckled as he nudged his shoulder against Scott’s, nearly causing the taller man to topple over. “C’mon, Scott. He’s all alone out here without Ilya when he obviously feels like crap. You really want to send him to an empty hotel room and let him take care of himself? Clearly he hasn’t done so already, so why would he do it now?”
“He has his teammates,” Scott argued quickly. “Surely they can take care of their Captain. Or their team medic or something? Why the hell does it have to be us?”
Kip shot Scott a patient look. It was one that Scott recognized almost immediately, powerless to do anything but hear his fiancé out as he had a point to be made.
“You know why. He needs someone to care for him who isn’t going to just set some orange juice in his fridge and wish him the best. We’re in New York City; do you really think the rest of the team isn’t going to take advantage of it even with their loss?”
Scott certainly couldn’t argue that. He knew what he did when he was in a new city even if it was for one night after a loss. That was before Kip that is, and although he couldn’t see Shane going crazy, he could see each and everyone of his teammates taking full advantage.
Kip leaned in closer to Scott until their shoulders brushed. Scott’s heart ached as his chin tipped down as he stole a quick kiss to the top of Kip’s hair. “I don’t know why I even bother getting into these discussions with you. I know that I never win.”
“Well, good to know that this graduate education my scholarship is paying for is being put to good use,” he teased.
Scott nudged him playfully, longing to throw him up against the wall and fuck him silly. He would never be that brazen in public, though he guessed that if Shane stayed with them for the night that there would be no chance of that when they got home either. It was a small price to pay if it meant Shane’s comfort, though he didn’t even know if he would be able to convince him to stay. He would need to turn on the charm for that.
“Go on,” Kip coaxed as he nodded in the direction of the visitor’s locker room. “I’ll be waiting out here for you both.”
Scott snagged an arm around Kip’s waist to pull him in for one more kiss, this one lingering as Scott savored the taste of Kip from his mint toothpaste to the faint saltiness of his pretzel he ate earlier. Kip groaned as he pushed his palms hard against Scott’s chest until the Admirals player finally broke away with a mischievous grin of his own.
“Go,” Kip called fondly.
Scott waved back over his shoulder and jogged off, rolling his eyes. How did Kip always get him into these sort of situations? He was so much more observant than Scott was when it came to anything other than the game of hockey. He could learn a thing or two from him, that’s for sure. Right now he was about to learn just how persuasive he could be.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Scott approached the visitor’s locker room and was thankful that a majority of the players and staff were gone. There were a few outliers who were still showering or talking with staff, eyes drawn to him the moment he walked through the door.
“Can I help you,” a blonde player that Scott didn’t recognize questioned.
Scott shoved his hands into his sweatshirt pockets. “Uh, yeah, I’m just looking for Shane Hollander. I wanted to ask him a question,” he offered lamely.
The player narrowed his eyes in scrutiny. Just when Scott was certain this player was about to tell him to fuck off, he motioned further down the hallway. “Think he’s still in the equipment room.”
“Thanks,” Scott called over his shoulder as he continued down the hallway before the player could change his mind. The less people asking questions right now the better.
Scott heard Shane before he saw him, the same coughs from on the rink sounding now. He rounded the corner to see Shane sitting on a bench, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a matching Metros sweatshirt. His hair was damp from either a shower or sweat, a clear weariness engulfing the young player.
“Hollander!”
Shane spun around, almost falling off the bench. He wretched away with his face buried back into the crook of his arm, overtaken by a new round of coughing. “Sc—ott,” he sputtered around coughs.
Scott winced. “Those sounds like those hurt, kid.”
Shane shrugged as Scott came to sit beside him. “M’fine, just a tickle,” he protested, voice hoarse and lacking it’s usual timbre.
“Hmm, doesn’t sound like it to me. Maybe it would be more convincing if you weren’t throwing off such heatwaves,” Scott pointed out.
Shane screwed up his face at the suggestion. Though, when Scott reached out towards his forehead, the Metro’s Captain evaded his touch. “I wouldn’t get that close,” he warned.
“Now you tell me? You shook my hand on the fucking ice.”
“That was for show,” Shane argued, eyes widening in distress. “Can you imagine what everyone would’ve asked me if I didn’t?”
Scott shook his head. Of course, Shane Hollander, the poster boy for everything would think about that. He was perfect in the eyes of everyone, and certainly wouldn’t be seen refusing to shake the hand of the Captain of the opposite team, sick or not. Confined in here was different no matter what Shane tried to say otherwise.
“I guess I can’t,” Scott replied after a while, hands tucked back into the pocket of his sweatshirt. “Good thing you shouldn’t have to worry about that for a bit.”
Shane shrugged. “M’guess.”
“Speaking about tonight, Kip wanted to know if you had any plans.”
Shane raised an eyebrow in clear confusion. “Um, no, but I really don’t think I should be out like this.”
“That’s exactly why I’m here.” Scott cursed at himself for not saying this outright. Shane needed everything to be laid out exactly the way that Scott meant. He knew this about the Canadian and yet he still felt like he was fumbling for his words. “Look, Shane, Kip is worried about you. He saw you on the ice and we agreed that we think it would be a good idea if you came and stayed with us for the night so that we can look after you.”
If Shane looked surprised before, he was downright shocked now. Mouth gaped open, eyes rounded like two round saucers, his head started to shake before Shane even finished his sentence.
“I can’t do that,” Shane exclaimed before remembering where he was and dropping his voice down low. “I can’t impose like that! You have an away game next week….and I’m sick.”
“Oh, now you admit you’re sick when I bring up Kip. Damn, he really is smart.” Scott took a moment to revel in the fact that Kip was his no matter how many stupid mistakes he made. He was a keeper, that’s for sure.
Shane’s barking coughs pulled him away from his own thoughts. Scott looked around madly before locating Shane’s water bottle, which he handed over to the star player and watched him finish half the bottle in a matter of seconds. Shane resurfaced panting, sweat staring to drip down his brow.
“I can look after myself.”
“I know, but you don’t have to, not when you have us.” Scott looked around to make sure that they were alone, head bowed so close that his breath was warm on Shane’s ear. “I know it sucks not having Ilya here when you’re sick to take care of you. Just, let us make things a little easier on you.”
At the mention of Ilya, Shane’s face fell. It was then that Scott could tell just how much Shane missed the Russian, even if he had no one that he could voice that to besides Ilya. He wouldn’t tell Ilya how much he missed him, or that he was sick in case it risked Ilya’s own concentration in his own games. Still, it didn’t mean it hurt any less to keep these details from him when they were separated on their own teams.
“C’mon, kid,” Scott encouraged once more, practically hearing Kip’s voice in his head. “It’s only for one night. Kip has our medicine cabinet stocked better than a Walgreens. I even think he has some leftover vegetable soup that he made this morning.”
Shane slightly perked up at the mention of soup, nose twitching. He hadn’t been hungry all day, but Kip’s cooking was something else entirely.
Scott waited patiently until Shane’s head bowed in defeat. “Okay,” he mumbled. “But just for tonight.”
Scott punched the air in relief as he jumped to his feet after scooping Shane’s duffle over his back. No need for Shane to overexert himself walking to the car.
“C’mon, kid. Let’s get you feeling better.”