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It was an old argument.
Truthfully, Shane had forgotten about it. He'd thought Ilya had forgotten about it. It was such a blip of a moment, years had passed, he and Scott never even talked about it. Ilya had enough going on between him and Scott, that Shane didn't even think to think about worrying about it.
Until the Centaurs played in New York after they had been outed to the world and Shane was traded to Ottawa. Scott had invited the team out to the Kingfisher because many of the Centaurs were buddies with the Admirals for one reason or another. Shane liked Scott, he liked Kip, Kyle, and the usual crowd at the Kingfisher. There was no reason to say no.
Right up until Scott Hunter was sitting across from his husband, two beers in for each other them, and absolutely no barriers to prevent questions being asked.
"So I have to know—"
Shane whipped his head to glare at his husband pre-emptively because he absolutely knew that tone. And it was only confirmed by the slant of his eyes and the not-smirk smirk on his lips.
"Ilya," he said, low and warning. But Shane could already sense Scott alerting to Ilya's usual brand of chaos.
"Shane refuses to tell me—"
"Hollander not giving you answers?" Scott drawled around another drink of his beer. "Can't imagine why that would ever happen." Kip elbowed him and Scott smirked into his beer.
"I want to know what you said to make my perfect, golden boy, Mr. Polite Canadian husband drop his gloves on the ice for the only time ever," he punctuated those last few words with smacks to the table. Shane groaned, hiding his face in his hands.
"Oh man," Scott grumbled.
"I remember that!" Kip chimed in brightly, smacking Scott's arm. "That was the night before our first date. It was crazy, the game was over, and you two just freaked out!"
"Okay, now I want a real drink," Shane muttered, trying to get up. Except Ilya pulled him back down.
"No, no, no, I have been good and patient and I have waited and waited—"
"Oh my god Hollander, how do you listen to this?"
"Just barely."
"Hey! I mean it! What did you say to him?" Ilya begged. "I have said everything! All the things! All I do is make fun of him! And he has never, ever tried to fight me! Not even when he was pissed at me off the ice! Please Hunter!"
"Hunter, I will never forgive you—"
"I will do anything," Ilya pleaded. "Anything, you name it. I will tell everyone you the are the best player in the League. I will never call you old again! I will streak at our next game—!"
"Nobody wants to see that," Scott argued.
"Actually…" Kip chimed in, until Scott glared. He put his hands up. "I'm just saying—"
"No," Shane and Scott intoned at the same time. They raised their respective glasses and clinked before drinking.
"You see?" Ilya insisted to Kip, gesturing to the pair of them. "It makes no sense! They are too nice to each other!"
"You're right, it makes no sense."
"Shane can't even chirp!"
"That's true," Scott agreed.
"I can," Shane argued, "I don't like to." He looked at Kip. "It takes away from the hockey."
"No it doesn't," Ilya argued hands flailing and exasperated, "it's the fun part of hockey. You are so boring, Hollander."
"Well now I don't wanna tell you," Scott said.
"Ha, ha!" Shane mocked. "That's what you get for being an asshole!"
"I'm surprised you didn't tell him," Scott directed toward Shane.
"He nagged me about it for awhile. I actually thought he forgot."
"I forget nothing."
"It's not that big of a deal."
"Well…"
"Scott!"
"It wasn't not a big deal, Shane. It was a dick move. And you never fight."
"A dick move?" Kip demanded. "From you?"
Scott shrugged. "Rough week."
"Yeah you played like shit," Shane sniped. Scott wagged a finger at him.
"See, that's how it got started the first time."
Ilya whipped his head back and forth between him.
"What? Shane started it?" He pointed to his own chest. "My Shane?" He grabbed Shane's chin and squeezed. "This Shane?"
Shane smacked his hands away, but only managed to get Ilya to kiss his cheek loudly.
"Even I find that hard to believe," Kip agreed.
"I did."
"What?!" Ilya practically exploded in his seat, body rocking forward with it. "You have to tell me!" He was practically climbing out of his seat and into Shane's lap, much to Scott and Kip's amusement. He got his arms around Shane and was shaking him. "Tell me!"
"No," he argued, but made the mistake of looking at his husband and was impossibly endeared by his ridiculousness. He'd had a hard few weeks, mentally. Shane was just happy to see that gorgeous light in his eyes, and he was more than willing to do just about anything to keep it there for awhile longer. Shane sighed.
"But Hunter can, if he wants to."
Ilya immediately whipped around, folding his hands together under his chin a little too cutely, to a much-chagrined Scott.
"Please please please please Hunter!"
"It's kinda cute when you beg. Like a dog."
"I wanna know too!" Kip said, jostling his husband eagerly. "Shane said you could, just tell us!"
"Dick move, Hollander." Shane shrugged. Scott just laughed and drained his beer.
"All right." He put a hand out on the table toward Ilya. "First, you are not slick."
"Chto?"
Shane started laughing and couldn't stop when he saw the indignant look on Ilya's face. Even Scott chuckled, finally having the upper hand probably felt great after all these years. Unfortunately, Shane knew it was mostly because Ilya didn't know what slick meant. He put a hand to his husband's wrist.
"He's saying that he noticed you flirting with me. Which was a lot, by the way."
"Yeah. All-Stars? 2011. Tossing your room number to Hollander like it was drive by?"
"Noooo," Ilya moaned, dropping his head back. "You knew that long?"
"Wait," Kip interrupted, "2011? That was 12 years ago, how old were you?"
"Twenty," he and Ilya answered at the same time. Shane reached for his hand, just to meet Ilya's in the middle. Ilya clasped it tight, tugged their hands into his lap.
"They were rookies," Scott informed him gleefully. "And so fucking obvious."
"Just to you, apparently," Ilya groused, leaning into Shane.
"I was sitting right there!" Scott laughed. "Shane wasn't exactly subtle. And you," he tossed a hand at Ilya, "didn't pay attention to anybody else."
"Okay, he's making points." He bonked his head against Shane's. "You are not subtle."
"Whatever."
"So," Kip intoned, "you knew they were hooking up the whole time."
"I suspected that they had hooked up at least once. I didn't know anything. And like I said, it was a rough week, it was a dick move…" he gestured vaguely. "Shane gave a weak ass chirp, I was in a bad mood—"
"Oh my god just tell us!" Kip said before even Ilya could complain. Scott opened his mouth and shut it, clearly hesitant to reveal that weak moment. Shane felt bad.
"He said I was starting to sound like you," Shane told Ilya evenly. His husband swung and locked his gaze on him. People got unnerved by their eye contact, Shane knew that, but he also knew that Ilya might need this. Just a little bit. Ilya pulled his lips in, not looking away even when Scott started to argue.
"To be clear, I implied it was you. I never said your name."
"But it was kind of a threat, Scott. People freaked when they said they were just friends! Like your phone was blowing up that day, it was nuts!" Kip snapped heatedly. They got into their own little spat while Shane and Ilya kept staring at each other.
"You got in a fight for me."
"No I didn't."
"You kind of did."
"Only a little."
"You liked me."
"We're married, Ilya."
"You had a crush on me. That's so embarrassing."
"Oh my god, I hate you."
"No you don't," he teased through gritted teeth, squeezing Shane's thigh. Shane just shook his head, annoyed that he was blushing, then Ilya tugged him over for a kiss, chaste but possessive. And even in public, Shane was kind of a sucker for it.
"See? Look what you almost fucked up! You coulda scared him back in the closet!" Kip exclaimed. Shane pushed back into Ilya's kiss, nudged against his forehead, and pushed him off.
"I did not almost fuck up anything! I wasn't going to tell anyone anything!" Scott attempted to defend himself. "It was just the shittiest thing I could think of at the time. And it wasn't even that shitty!"
"He apologized," Shane offered. Scott gestured toward him.
"Yeah, Shane decked me and I apologized, it's fine."
"It is. I definitely overreacted." He tossed his head. "I basically confirmed it."
"Oh yeah," Scott nodded as a waitress brought them another round. "I mean, before you punched me in the face, I thought it was a one off. I was shocked when you traded to Ottawa," he told Ilya. "You were always with women so I didn't realize it was serious. I guess I thought it was just a fling or whatever."
"No," Shane said quietly. "It kinda was at first, but, obviously not," he dipped his head in Ilya's direction. Naturally, Ilya's answer to this was to wrap his arms around Shane's waist and tug him close. Kissed his cheek a few times, which Shane squinted against. Harris called it cuteness aggression, whenever Ilya got roughly affectionate with him.
"I cannot believe you almost outed them over a chirp," Kip said.
"I didn't!" Scott insisted. "It was an implication! And I felt bad about it the second I said it, but nobody else would have any idea what it meant."
"That's true, actually. I was pissed at myself for not assuming you were talking about…literally anyone else."
"You are not subtle," Ilya repeated. And it clicked that Ilya was using context clues to figure out what that word meant.
"Yeah, I was obvious." Ilya's mouth pulled down as he filed that away. "Thanks. So now you know. You happy?
"Mmhmmmm," he agreed enthusiastically. "Very happy. Very very happy."
"You are never going to let this go, are you?"
"I'm going to put it in my will that our grandchildren have to remind you about it once a week until you die of a broken heart because you miss me too much."
Shane's brain immediately skirted the word grandchildren because he could not and would not get teary-eyed about the very idea that he and Ilya might even have children one day, let alone grandchildren, in front of two whole hockey teams, including one of his idols/mentors, in public.
"You've already decided one, that you're dying first, and two, how I die?"
"Yes of course. And preferably the week after me." Shane scoffed. "What? You will be too sad anyway and I don't like sleeping alone!"
"What are we even talking about?" Shane laughed. He was pulled out of his staring contest with his goofy husband, when Kip thwacked Scott again.
"Look what you almost broke up!"
"I didn't!"