Chapter Text
Come As You Are - Nirvana
Eric Whittaker rose quickly through the rookie ranks, craving out a name for himself and racking up a respectable amount of goals and assists as the new center with the Brooklyn Scouts. His quick success and popularity compared to his fellow rookies instills the expectation of fast-tracking his name in with the league ‘big boys’. It’s this expectation that feeds Whittaker’s rapidly growing superiority complex and is the catalyst for announcing his intention to hijack Shane Hollander’s standing as one of the league's top players to reporters following his team’s landslide win.
“Whittaker, you performed better than you have ever before tonight, have you changed anything recently to achieve this success?” the reporter asks the stock standard questions, expecting the same stock standard answers.
“Just putting in the work, running overtime on practice and focusing on filling the gaps in the team”.
“Do you think that will be enough to secure a win for the Scouts game next week against the Metros?” another generic question aiming to prompt more competition and spark a spectacle between players.
“HA! Metro’s will be light work, I have no worries on that front”, this is an unexpected answer, such outright confidence from a unseasoned rookie when going against a team with 2 straight Stanley Cup wins is jarring and immediately gets the reporters attention.
“The Metro’s have 2 back to back wins on the back of their captain Shane Hollander, who is statistically one of the best players in the league currently, do you think you can overcome that to get your team a win?”
“Like I said, I have no worries going into our game next week against the Metro’s, Hollander is one person in the team and I think it’s time for someone to knock him off his pedestal”
The room sits for a moment in incredulous silence, bemused by the rookies cocksure statement.
“And do you think you’ll be the one to do that?”
“Sure, who else?”
The Metros vs Scouts game arrives with immense fanfare, media and fans eagerly awaiting the start of the game, anticipation for a showdown drawing out more spectators.
Eric Whittaker had made a bold statement in challenging Shane Hollander, and everyone has turned up or tuned in to see if the rookie could put his money where his mouth is and dethrone Hollander.
The Metros locker room is buzzing with the same anticipation, the team split between indignation on Shane’s behalf from the gall of Whittaker, and eager to see Shane demolish to cocky little shit. Meanwhile, Shane putters through his pregame routine, quietly taping his stick, double and triple checking the laces on his skates, listening to the banter between his teammates.
“I hope Hollander destroys that kid,”
“You’re telling me, what an obnoxious turd,”
“Shane will knock him back into his place, teach him not to run his mouth,”
Internally Shane is smirking to himself, he knows who they are talking about but doesn’t let on that he’s playing attention. Shane has been on the receiving end of shit talking players the entire duration of his hockey career, usually he ignores them, they never manage to come close to taking his place as no. 1 player. But tonight Shane is in a devious mood and plans on making it clear that if you're going to call him out, you better have the skill to back it up.
“HOLLANDER!” JJ yells out, “ready to take down that cocky shit?”
Shane looks up from where he was focused on finishing up the handle of his stick, eyes flicking to JJ, who is standing with Hayden, both sporting eager grins. Shane’s brows furrow, playing up his bewildered expression and all he can get out is a innocent confused “huh?”, before their coach is in hustling them into the rest of their gear and forcing the team out to the arena, the time to puck drop rapidly approaching.
As the teams starting centers the game begins with a face off between none other than Shane Hollander and Eric Whittaker. The energetic noise from the crowd gets pushed into the back of Shane’s head as he bends into position across from his opponent, eyes already focused on where the puck will land.
“Ready to lose Hollander?” The words aren’t anything Shane hasn’t already heard before, so he doesn’t bother looking up at the Scouts center as he replies.
“Uh-huh,” Shane wants the rookie to feel like a child begging for someone to notice him.
Shane’s dismissive reply riles Whittaker into more provoking, hoping to get Hollander’s attention.
“You know, I don’t quite get how you are at the top of the league”, it’s not true, Whittaker has been following Shane Hollander’s career for as long as he’s played in the NHL, the man is infamously skilled and consistent. Still though Whittaker’s chirp doesn’t get the response he was after, so he digs again.
“I plan on wiping all your records, shouldn’t take too long,”
This gets Shane to finally look up at Whittaker, dragging his eye judgementally over him, scanning the opposing player from head to toe, then back up again, a subtle quirk ticks up the corner of his lips, amused.
It’s not the first time that some rookie riding the high of their first season has attempted to one up Shane, nor will it be the last. Frankly Shane usually wouldn't spare the kid a thought, he has yet to see anything from the rookie that suggests he could hold a candle to Shane. Shane did not appreciate being called out by someone he's never played against before though, let alone a rookie in their first season. So instead of Whittaker knocking Shane from his pedestal, Shane is going to knock Whittaker off his ego trip, and take great amusement in it while doing so. But he plans on doing it subtly, so no one can say that Shane Hollander is spiteful or intentionally embarrasses those who challenge him. Besides, if Whittaker actually has the skills to 'wipe all of his records', then he has nothing to worry about.
“Good luck with that.”
With that Shane refocuses his attention to the game, the referee approaching to drop the puck, all the while Eric fumes to himself at being shut down so easily.
The puck drops and Shane slings the puck off and is gone before Whittaker knows what’s happening, a blur of colours and a rush of air all the rookie registers before he finally reacts and takes off after Hollander.
For the entire game between the Metros and the Scouts, Whittaker spends his shifts on the ice trying to keep up with Hollander, attempts to block plays, attempts to take possession of the puck, attempts to pin Hollander to the boards to separate him from the puck. Whittaker is shut down every time. He's left frazzled and exhausted, like a child thrown to the wolves, the wolves being Shane Hollander.
Whittaker attempts to reclaim the puck from Hollander but instead nearly trips over his own skates from falling for Hollander’s fake out, stumbling to right himself like a drunk, arms flailing.
Whittaker at one point has the puck, but has Hollander on him like a second skin, Whittaker attempts to pass to his winger, instead Hollander intercepts with the handle of his stick then slips past him using Whittaker’s momentum against him, like taking candy from a baby.
Whittaker attempts to intercept Hollander speeding toward the goal with the puck, instead he’s left scrambling to keep up with Hollander’s pace, unable to match his speed and Hollander leaves him in the dust with ease.
Whittaker attempts to pin Hollander to the boards, hoping to force him to give up possession of the puck and break his momentum, instead somehow Hollander absorbs the hit and Whittaker is the one ricocheting off him onto the ice.
In the final seconds of the game Hollander has the puck again rapidly approaching the goal, Whittaker attempts to snatch the puck from him desperately, instead Hollander swoops around him with a spray of ice and Whittaker is on his ass while Hollander sinks the puck into the net.
Shane loops around the back of the net to where Whittaker is still laying on the ice, panting out exhausted breaths, “On your feet buddy”, Shane remarks to the rookie joyfully then skates off as the buzzer signals the end of the game.
Metros take the win from the Scouts 7 - 0. 3 goals and 2 assists coming off Shane Hollander’s stick in an astounding display of prowess, focus and experience. Child's play.
Shane doesn’t get much time to celebrate their win with his team before being ushered to clean up and get to the post game interview. Reporters already waiting with anticipation for Hollander’s presence. Questions already coming before he’s stopped before the microphones.
“Shane impressive performance out there tonight,”
“Thank you,”
“Is this the kind of game we can expect from the Metros from here on out?”
“The Metros are always pushing to improve our game, I’m very happy with how the team played tonight, I couldn’t have asked for a better result,”
“Did Eric Whittaker’s statement last week influence the way you played the game tonight?”, finally someone asks the question, addresses the elephant in the room.
It's at this moment that Shane put the final nail in Eric Whittaker's coffin for the day. Shane let's a baffled almost judgemental look pass over his face before he answers.
“...Who?”
“Whittaker… number 43,”
Shane let's a beat pass, looking as though he's digging deep to remember who they are talking about, Shane wants them to think Whittaker was never even on his radar.
“Oh right, well I haven’t seen anything from him... so no to answer your question,”
“He claimed tonight's game would be light work and had plans to ‘knock you off your pedestal,” the reporter is digging for a reaction from Shane, looking for any hostility.
“Ah, well I'd say it was light work for one of us, not sure how he went with the rest of it though,” Shane’s response is delivered with such nonchalance and playful tone that everyone in the room doesn’t process the sass of his words, then with a clap of his hands Shane adds, "next time hey champ". Then Shane is making his way out of the room, leaving everyone to mull over his complete and total shut down of Eric Whittaker.
When Shane finally gets home he finds Ilya in the kitchen leaning against the counter, waiting for him, arms crossed over his chest and smug grin stretched over his pretty face.
“Well, well, look who it is, lying liar who lies”, Ilya knows for a fact that Shane lied about not knowing who the rookie was, because he was the one that showed Shane the video of the interview in the first place. Watched amused as Shane huffed and squinted at Ilya's phone at the audacity of the rookie, listened to him grumbling about letting children on the ice.
"I don't know what you're talking about", Shane sniffs back, smirk already building on Shane's face, unable to conceal his wicked glee, pleased with himself.
Ilya's smile grows even larger and has to cover it with his hand to try and stop the cackle wanting to slip out, he adores when Shane gets sassy and snarky, especially when it's not aimed at him. Something about the way Shane's eyes glitter with the threat of mischief sets Ilya's heart racing.
“I thought I was supposed to be naughty one, Milen’kiy lev”, Ilya is stirring Shane up now, wanting to see him get even more smug. Ilya watches as Shane's eyebrow ticks up with a overly pleased smile on his face, and has to let out the laugh that's been trapped in his chest since he watched the post game interview.
