Chapter Text
Jane: I’ll be quick I promise.
Ilya: Aren’t u always ;)
Jane:....I am getting my allergy medicine.
Ilya: Yes hurry the fuck up
Jane: Hold your horses.
Ilya: ????
Ilya frowned at his phone. English expressions were weird. He flopped back onto the sofa, thumb hovering as he typed hold your horses meaning into his browser.He skimmed the definition. Still didn’t make sense. Why would Shane be holding horses? He sighed and tossed his phone onto the cushion beside him, stretching out his long legs.There was time to kill anyway. Neither of them had to be at the arena until tomorrow. He flipped on the TV and let some dumb late-night sports recap wash over him.Five minutes passed.Then ten.Then twenty.His phone stayed stubbornly silent.Ilya picked it back up.
Ilya: Did you get lost?
He supposed Shane could have gotten delayed by a teammate at the hotel. He was their beloved Captain or in some cases Captaine. Or perhaps there was traffic. But fear had gripped him. Usually his Jane always texted if something delayed him.Thirty minutes.Forty-five.
Knock. Knock. Knock. Someone is impatient. Ilya flicked off the television, schooled his expressions to be less worried, and sauntered towards the door. The moment the door unopened, Shane barreled into the door, his face red and panting as though he’d just finished the Boston Marathon.
“Someone chasing you again?” Ilya teased, hoping to see the flash of what he called Shane’s angry kitten face. It was adorable. Not that Shane wasn’t capable, he just never quite looked threatening. But no such luck. Shane kept breathing, his eyes wide, and Ilya can feel his own amusement falling off his face. He reached forward to hold Shane’s forearms, “what’s wrong?”
Shane kept breathing, not giving an answer.
“Tell me. You need hospital?”
Shane shook his head again, more violently this time.Ilya had no idea what else to do except keep grounding him, hands steady, voice low, thumbs tracing over the freckles like a map he’d memorized.
“He’s going to kill me,” Shane muttered.
That was not comforting. Ilya could only respond with, “what?”
Shane swallowed, his breathing finally calming, “Marlow,”
Ilya could not help but tilt his head, “what….why would Marly kill you?”
Marly was a bit of an idiot sometimes, sure but outside of Shane, he was Ilya’s best friend. And off the ice, he was not a bad person.
Shane looked pained. He looked upward as if praying silently.
“Talk to me,” Ilya demanded.
Shane swallowed again, “fuck. You can’t say anything ok?”
Ilya kissed his neck and then his warm cheek just under his freckles, “can keep secret yes?”
Shane’s phone buzzed again. He fished it out of his pocket. Cursed at it, and threw it down on the table.
“You are avoiding Pike?” Ilya tried to keep the delight out of his tone.
Shane groaned. “This is not funny.”
And then Shane began to blurt out, a rather intriguing tale. Shane and Pike were rooming together as usual. Pike was told Shane was out to see his Boston Lily. Shane needed that allergy medication.
“Yes I know this,” Ilya really wanted to know how his teammate was involved in this whole story.
“Okay…,” Shane heaved in a deep breath, “I should have knocked…and well…they were both there,”
“Where?”
“In. The. Hotel. Room. Rozanov,” Shane hissed out, “together,”
It took Ilya a moment to realize what Shane was intending. He let out a rather undignified grunt, “Marly can do better,”
“That’s your response?!” Shane roared.
“What?” Ilya said, shrugging. “Is true.”
Shane released a long breath out of his nose, the kind that carried his soul with it. He straightened to his full height, rolling his shoulders like he was bracing himself for impact, or judgment.Meanwhile, Ilya’s brain was still trying to process the image of Marly and Pike. Together. In a hotel room. Naked, presumably.He had a pretty good radar for these things. He always had. He’d known before Shane knew himself. He’d clocked Hunter from a mile away. He’d even quietly suspected something about Marly for a while now, in that vague, huh, that explains some stuff way.But Pike? Pretty much all-Canadian, aggressively straight-coded, golden-retriever boy Pike?
That was… genuinely surprising.
“Surprised Marly did not punch you,” Ilya said without fully meaning to.
Because honestly. Marly was one of their enforcers. A human brick wall with anger issues and a protective streak a mile wide. Shane walking in on his romantic encounter with another man felt like extremely reasonable grounds for a punch to the face.But Shane looked unharmed.
“He was tied up,” Shane said flatly.
He stared into the middle distance like a man who had seen God and found Him deeply, personally disappointing.
Ilya froze,“…What.”
Shane pinched the bridge of his nose. “I regret ever being born with eyes.”
Ilya could not stop laughing. Really. The idea of it all was hilarious. And slightly alarming. So, Shane stumbled upon their fellow hockey players in a delicate situation, and he’d run off. On the table, Hollander’s phone rang again.
“You should answer Pike,” Ilya said gently, “assure him. I think if he saw us, he’d do same for you,”
*******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
“I am going to kill him,” Marly announced for what had to be the millionth time.He was pacing the length of the hotel room like a caged animal, bare feet slapping against the hardwood, hands raking through his hair hard enough that Hayden was mildly concerned he might start pulling chunks out. His voice wasn’t even loud anymore. It had gone quiet in that deeply unsettling way that meant he was past yelling and into planning.
Hayden felt like he was going to puke, pass out, and cry all at the same time.His body was heavy and weightless all at once, stomach flipping like he’d just gone over the first drop of a roller coaster he never agreed to get on. His ears were ringing faintly. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking. He did not think he would ever get the look of shock off his best friend’s face. Ever. That wide-eyed, horrified, oh my god I just saw something I can never unsee expression was burned directly into Hayden’s soul.
He wanted, desperately, to tell Marly not to commit manslaughter. He wanted to say please don’t go to prison, I just started catching feels for you and this feels like a bad omen. But somehow that felt… counterproductive. Suspicious, even. Like it would only confirm that yes, actually, a murder was on the table.
“He won’t say anything,” Hayden blurted instead.
He wasn’t entirely sure if he was reassuring Marly or desperately trying to talk himself off the ledge.Marly stopped pacing so abruptly it was like he’d hit an invisible wall. He turned, eyes wild.
“Is that so?” Marly roared. “He hasn’t even answered your phone calls!”
Hayden flinched. “He, he might just be busy,” he said weakly. “You know Shane. He gets… weird when he’s stressed.”
Marly dragged both hands down his face. “I swear to God, if Hollander breathes one word of this to anyone—”
“He won’t,” Hayden said quickly, more force in his voice now. “He’s not like that. He’s discreet. He’s…he’s emotionally constipated, if anything. He would rather die than have an awkward conversation.”
Marly stared at him,“…That is not comforting.”
Hayden let out a thin, hysterical laugh. “It’s the best I’ve got,” and now his phone is lighting up, “oh shit he’s calling back,”