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*
"Christ alive."
Troy rested his elbows on his knees, bent in half to catch his breath and looked to Wyatt Hayes, cursing in the goal. "When does Ilya get back?"
Hazy grimaced behind his facemask. "Tomorrow."
"I know he led Montreal to three cup wins, but I'm not sure this is worth it," Bood said, skating up. "Another day of this?"
"We're fucking doomed." Troy said.
*
The air in the locker room was stiff, overheated. Troy didn't know if the thermostat was broken, or if it was the tension of twenty men afraid of making notice of themselves.
The cause stood calmly at his stall, a small smile on his face as he checked his phone. The large A on his jersey glared at them all, hidden as he suddenly turned toward the door.
"Ilya!"
Shane dropped his phone and ran the few steps to the doorway, where his husband stood.
The Centaurs all breathed a sigh of relief.
After their long and intimate reunion, which earned more than a few whistles from the team, Ilya and Shane separated with a grin. "So, how was Captaining while I was gone? Miss it?"
Troy turned away quickly, hoping Ilya hadn't seen the grimace on his face, and saw Hazy doing the same thing. Haas' face was bright red as he pulled on his jersey.
"Can't say I did, I'm glad you're back. I forgot how exhausting it is to be the Captain," Shane said.
Ilya grinned, tossing his bag at his stall. "Did you tire them all out, why is it so quiet? Hazy!" Ilya slapped a hand Hazy's shoulder. "You are not happy to see me?"
"Opposite, Cap," Hazy said. "Couldn't be happier."
"Then where is my hug?"
Hazy turned quickly and wrapped his arms around Ilya, and Troy heard the words he whispered.
"Do not ever leave us alone again."
"What?" Ilya laughed.
"You're one brave man, Rozy," Hazy said, and Ilya glanced around at the rest of them, his eyes landing on a shaking Luca.
"Jesus Christ, Hollander," Ilya said, turning back to his husband. "What did you do to my team?"
Shane's face scrunched, confused. "We ran drills. That's what you do in practice."
Troy shuffled uncomfortably and Ilya noticed. He raised his eyebrows and Troy shook his head.
"Were these drills from hell?" Ilya asked, walking back over to Shane.
"Maybe they were a little intense," Shane said. "But sometimes that's needed. I don't know how we win as much as we do with how you run the team."
"Oh really?"
Shane grinned. "But, not my business. I'm just Ass Cap."
"Oh, ass captain is right," Ilya said, slipping an arm around Shane's waist while the team groaned. "So you're not after my job?"
"As if I'd want to do that again. I have grown to like not being in charge, its relaxing."
Troy and the rest of the team breathed a sigh of relief, leaning against their stalls.
"Thank fuck" Troy said, and Ilya laughed.
*