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The crowd at the Montreal Bell Centre was on their feet as they counted down the final seconds of the game.
“3! 2! 1!”
The buzzer sounded and the sold-out arena roared with applause and cheers for Montreal’s victory.
With a score of 2-1, the Ottawa Centaurs had lost to the Montreal Voyageurs, but as Ilya Rozanov’s eyes tracked Shane Hollander toward center ice for the handshake line, he couldn’t help but smile.
“Good game, Hollander,” Ilya said. “Too bad you miss out on hat trick!”
Shane laughed and shook his hand.
“Losers don’t get to chirp, Rozanov!” he yelled as he skated down the line.
Ilya had played away games on Montreal’s ice as a Centaur for a few seasons now, and though it took some time to shake out, Shane and Ilya had found a better rhythm for what their more toned-down rivalry looked like now during games. At least, compared to what that rivalry had looked like when Ilya played for Boston.
The media (and social media) knew they were colleagues and co-founders of the Irina Foundation, but they were still competitive as hell and didn't show much of any friendly affection on the ice.
As players started exiting the ice to change out and shower, Shane circled back to the Centaurs’ bench and caught Ilya.
“I’m probably going to be late getting back,” Shane said. “Captains meeting after the press conference.”
Ilya nodded knowingly. “I need to check on my rookie anyway. I thought he’d make it back on the ice before the end of third period.”
Shane grimaced. “Oof, yeah. That looked like a pretty good gash. I hope his hand is ok. Campbell feels awful.”
It had happened at the beginning of third period when Centaurs rookie Luca Haas had hit the boards while chasing a puck around the perimeter toward Montreal’s goal.
The hit was clean, and it had actually come from Montreal rookie Matthew Campbell, but because of their speed and unrefined control, when Luca’s stick was ripped from his hand, his glove went with it.
The two of them ended up tangled in a crash, and Luca walked away a nasty, bloody cut on the top of his hand.
Ilya shook his head. “You’re lucky it was your baby player Campbell, or I would not have been so restrained.”
“You know it was an accident.”
Ilya sighed but couldn’t help the small eye roll that crept across his face. “Yes, I know. Luca should be wrapped up by now. I’ll text you.”
Shane nodded as Ilya stepped up into the box, heading back to the visiting team’s locker room.
Ilya changed out of his skates, jersey, pads, and base layer. He grabbed the towel from his stall and wrapped it around his waist, but just as he turned to walk to the showers, he felt a hand on the back of his shoulder.
It was Terry, the Centaurs’ team doctor.
“Rozanov, you need to come with me. Throw on some clothes.”
Ilya spoke softly. “What? Luca is ok, yes? Was just a cut on his hand.”
“I’ll explain outside. Just… we need to be quick. I’m concerned he’s going to run.”
Ilya put on briefs, sweatpants, and a t-shirt. He tucked his phone in his pocket and then shoved his feet into his Adidas sneakers.
He was sweaty and smelly, but decent, and he followed Terry hurriedly out of the locker room and down the hallway.
“What is happening? Why am I stolen?”
Terry stopped just outside the door to medical. He turned to face Ilya and sighed.
“He seemed ok at first, and he let me clean out his hand.”
Ilya took a step toward the door, but Terry gestured for him to wait.
“It’s a clean, easy cut -- and he’s lucky it didn’t hit any tendons -- but it’s deep. Ilya, when I told Luca he needed a few stitches, he just…” Terry glanced toward the medical room. “I think he had a panic attack. He won’t let me near his hand.”
Ilya’s heart sank. “What did he say?”
“He didn’t. He looked like he was having trouble breathing, but touching him seemed to make it worse. I covered the laceration and told him we’d wait. He was shaking and he wouldn’t talk.”
Ilya's eyebrows furrowed as he processed everything Terry was saying.
“I eventually was able to help him off the table, and I think he might have felt dizzy because he wanted to sit on the floor. But when he finally spoke a few minutes ago, the only thing he said was ‘Ilya’. That’s why I came and grabbed you after the buzzer.”
Ilya ran his hand through his hair.
“He has problems with anxiety sometimes," Ilya said. "I didn’t know this was extra scary thing for him. I think I should talk to him alone.”
Terry nodded. "Text me when you're ready."
Ilya knocked three times on the door and paused a beat before he walked into the medical room.
“Luca? It’s just me. It’s Ilya.”
Ilya scanned the room for a few seconds before he spotted the rookie.
Luca was sitting on the floor against the far wall with his arms crossed tight against his body and his head tucked down into his chest. His pads, blood-stained jersey, helmet and skates had been discarded next to him. He was left wearing his black base layer and socks.
Ilya saw Luca’s shoulders move and then heard a small whimper.
He crossed the room quickly. “Oh, rook.”
Ilya kneeled in front of Luca and gently rested his hand on the boy’s knee.
“I’m right here, Luca. No one else is here. Can you look at me?”
Luca kept his eyes down and shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, hey. Is ok. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
Ilya wasn’t entirely sure what to do next. He had helped Luca a few times with his anxiety around game day jitters and homesickness, but this felt like uncharted territory in his role as the Centaurs' captain.
But then Ilya thought about what he would do if it were Shane in the same panicked situation, and suddenly the pieces for how to move forward locked into place.
“I’m going to move and sit next to you.”
Ilya moved so that he was sitting along the wall beside Luca and scooted right up against him. He put his arm around the boy’s shoulders and slowly pulled him in.
Ilya felt a small ping of relief when Luca accepted the hug and seemed to seek out the pressure, tucking his face further into Ilya’s neck.
With one hand running circles over Luca’s back, Ilya brought up his other hand and carded his fingers through the boy’s hair.
“Can you take deep breaths with me?”
Ilya felt Luca nod against his chest. He took several deep breaths and could feel Luca trying his best to match him.
“You’re doing great job.” Ilya waited another minute before lifting his hand away from Luca’s hair.
Ilya spoke very softly. “Can you tell me what was so scary? I want to help.”
“He wanted to…” Luca sniffled.
"Wanted to what?"
“He wanted to put needles in my hand. In the cut.”
Ilya resumed carding Luca’s hair. “Oh, that is scary. But he doesn’t want to hurt you. You know that, yes? He just wants to help.”
Luca’s voice cracked as he kept going.
“I don’t usually get scared like that.” He sniffled. “But I’ve never had stitches before. And I don’t…”
Ilya was surprised that Luca wanted to keep opening up.
“You don’t what, Haasy?”
“I don’t know this place. Feels weird in here.”
Ilya looked around the Voyageurs' medical room. It did feel very different compared to what they had back in Ottawa.
Montreal had so much more money to throw around than Ottawa did, and the stadium had been through more renovations.
Now the room just looked so sterilized and corporate. Too fancy and silent.
“Yes, medical room is not my favorite place to be either.”
This got a small laugh from Luca.
“Can I text Terry to come back if he stays far away from your hand?”
Luca looked up at Ilya for the first time. “You won’t leave?”
Ilya gently put his finger under Luca’s chin and held eye contact with the boy. “Never. We figure out best plan to fix your hand. We work to make sure you feel nothing sharp in there.” Ilya smiled. “And then you can go order every dessert on the room service menu at the hotel. And maybe share some with LaPointe. Ok?”
Ilya searched Luca’s face as the boy thought it over.
“Ok.”
“Good. I need my arm back now.” Ilya unwrapped his arm from around Luca and pulled his phone out of his pocket.
“That’s ok,” Luca said softly as he uncurled from Ilya’s chest and sat up straighter. “You kind of smell anyway.”
Ilya finished the text to Terry before gawking dramatically at his rookie.
“I don’t think you want me to chirp back about why I skip shower after the game today.”
Ilya took the moment to send a quick text to LaPointe, letting him know Luca would be another hour or two before he’d get back to the hotel.
There was a knock on the door and then Terry came back inside. He sat over on a rolling stool at the table across from Ilya and Luca.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better, Luca."
Luca nodded. “Thank you for getting Ilya.”
Ilya put his hand on Luca’s knee. “So we are thinking of best way to numb his hand without feeling any needles. We are especially nervous about… on the inside.” Ilya made a pointing gesture with his hand to animate what he was saying as he advocated for Luca. “Do you know our options for this and then we can talk?”
Terry smiled. He’d never really seen Ilya so protective before, and he looked so young sitting on the floor tucked up next to Luca.
“Oh. Well, it’s best practice to numb from the outside inward, so you won’t feel anything sharp in that broken skin, Luca. But, we can also maybe freeze a little spot on your hand where I'm going to start. That way you don’t feel those first few pinches. I don’t have any anesthetic freeze spray quite like that with me, but I can try to find out if the Voyageurs have something here.”
“Ah ok, one second.” Ilya was already texting. Luca peered over at the phone screen, but Ilya angled it away from his view.
Within a few seconds, Ilya’s phone was ringing.
“Hi, yes… Yes, ok… I know, but we need you, Solnyshko… Yes, bring spray from Hayden’s stupid muscle spasms… And you still have weighted blanket in physio room?... Bring that too, please… Ok… He will be excited to see you I think… See you soon.”
Ilya hung up the call and saw that both Terry and Luca were equally puzzled by the conversation.
“Ok. Someone is coming to help us. You are a very lucky rookie, Luca. He knows this place better than anyone.”
“Who?” Luca said.
“You just played him. Shane Hollander.”
“You’re friends with Shane Hollander?!” This got Luca to sit up even taller, and Ilya was finally able to catch a glimpse at the wrap around his hand.
“Mmm, something like that. We have known each other over 10 years, Luca. We run a charity together, play on All-Stars together, do commercials, Olympics, awards shows. We… know each other. You knew this, yes? He will help us.”
For the first time, Luca seemed like his normal self. Ilya tilted his head and then nodded down toward Luca’s hand.
“I think your hand is ready for some help now. It’s ok if I go over to the table with you? Nothing will poke you.” Ilya lowered his voice. “And my ass is cold on this tile.”
Luca nodded and Ilya helped him up off the floor. Terry rolled back a few feet to give them space, and Luca shyly walked behind Ilya over to the exam table.
Ilya turned and sandwiched Luca between him and the table, and then with both hands on Luca’s trunk, he encouraged the boy to hop up and sit. Ilya sat next to Luca on the table, acting like a safe human barrier between Luca and Terry.
He felt a little tug on his shirt and realized that Luca was holding onto the bottom hem.
The door swung and there was Shane Hollander in his outfit from the press conference, carrying a full duffle bag of gear. Luca tracked his every move.
Shane set the bag down on the counter beside them, and introduced himself to Terry. He handed Terry a few different aerosol bottles that he had managed to find quickly, and then walked over to Ilya.
“Thank you, Shane.” Ilya stood up and hugged him. He wanted to do more, but the arena had security cameras in every room, and he figured it might make Luca go into shock if he learned two of his favorite hockey players were actually in a romantic relationship.
“Of course,” Shane said. “It’s nice to meet you off the ice, Luca. Campbell feels awful about the accident.”
Luca shyly kept his head down. “I shouldn't have let my glove fall. It wasn’t his fault.”
“I brought you something.” Shane walked over to the bag and pulled out a large gray weighted blanket. “I keep it here for when I am feeling anxious, and I thought you might like to try it?”
Ilya took the folded blanket and sat it on Luca’s lap. “Was my idea, but yes. Thank you, Shane.”
Shane rolled his eyes.
Luca ran his fingers along the soft fabric. “This is yours?”
“Yep,” Shane said confidently. “It helps me feel grounded sometimes.” There was no shame in his voice.
Luca nodded. “I like it. Thank you.”
Terry tapped his finger against one of the aerosol spray cans that Shane had brought. “I think this one is going to work well.”
He looked over at the three boys. “I’m going to get some things together. I’m thinking maybe it’s best if you lie down.” Terry was talking about Luca but the comment was made to Ilya.
Luca tried to silence his whimper as Ilya put one hand on Luca’s shoulder, gently pushing back, and then lifted his ankle up with the other, guiding him to lay down on the exam table.
“We’ve got you," Ilya said. "You’re ok.”
Shane tried to hide his smile as he moved around to the opposite side of the table. He got snippets of Ilya like this during camps, but he rarely got to see this side of Ilya with his team. It was usually all partying in clubs and screaming on the ice.
With Shane and Ilya now facing each other on either side of table -- Ilya purposely staying on the same side as Luca’s injured hand -- they unfolded the blanket and made sure Luca was covered, arms lying on top.
Luca didn’t really know how to process all the different layers to what was happening. He was equally comforted and embarrassed that two of his favorite hockey players, two of the best captains in the NHL, were essentially tucking him in.
And then the sound of metal objects clanking on a tray behind him brought him crashing back down to what was actually going on, and he thought he felt his stomach do a flip.
He must have flinched because Ilya’s hands were quickly back on him. One on his shoulder and the other on his chest.
“Luca,” Shane said. “Do you want me to stay?”
“Yes.” Luca and Ilya had both answered, which got a small laugh from Shane.
There was an arm board situated under the table, and Terry swung it out from below Luca’s shoulder and locked it into place at a 90 degree angle from the table.
“Ok, Luca,” Terry said. “I’m all set here. Can I see that hand now?”
Luca nodded, but he didn’t move.
Ilya slowly took hold of Luca’s hurt hand. He gave it a comforting squeeze as he lifted it away from Luca’s body and out onto the arm board.
Terry took Luca’s hand from Ilya and then tapped just above Luca’s wrist. “Hold right there, cap,” Terry said. “Luca, try to keep your fingers flat and relaxed on the board, ok?”
“Ok.” It was small but audible.
Ilya was very grateful for Terry’s patience. He thankfully hadn’t had to spend much time with the guy since coming to the Centaurs, but he was damn sure that a younger Ilya wouldn’t have ever been afforded this much consideration from the Bears' team doctor back in Boston.
“Gonna take this bandage off and then you’ll feel that cold spot.”
Ilya watched as the cut was exposed, and then turned back to Luca.
“Do you want to watch or no?”
Luca shook his head.
With one hand locked on Luca’s forearm in the spot Terry had asked him to hold, Ilya set his other in the middle of the kid’s chest.
“Look over at your second favorite hockey player, Shane Hollander.”
“He’s obnoxious, isn’t he?” Shane said, smiling.
Terry touched the skin right past the edge of the cut. “Right here, ok? 1, 2, 3.”
The aerosol made a hissing sound and Luca’s eyes went wide, but he didn’t try to pull his hand away.
“Good job, Luca,” Terry said. “Going to start numbing you up now. Let me know if you feel anything sharp, and I’ll stop.”
Shane held out his hand toward Luca’s free arm, and Luca swiftly locked their hands together.
“Thanks.”
Ilya smiled at Shane's gesture.
Terry had already started injecting the lidocaine, and even though it wasn’t painful, it wasn’t comfortable either.
“Breathe,” Ilya said, making small circles on Luca’s chest over the blanket. “Very proud of you.”
“You know,” Shane said, trying to get Luca’s attention back. “I was watching your tapes this week to prep for tonight’s game. You’re having a really strong first season.”
“Thanks, but not as good as yours was.”
Shane smiled at Luca and then smirked up at Ilya.
“Excuse you, Mr. Centaur. Your captain had best rookie season,” Ilya countered. “I thought you were Ilya Rozanov fanboy. You cannot also be Shane Hollander fanboy.”
Luca started to retort, but there was an uncomfortable twinge of pressure in his hand, and he scrunched his eyes tight.
“Keep breathing, rook.” Ilya added a bit more pressure to the hand on Luca's chest.
Luca opened his eyes and let out a big exhale. “Feels weird.”
They heard a metal object clink onto the tray.
“You’re feeling that lidocaine doing its job. Hard part’s over now,” Terry said. “You can relax for a little while and let the meds work, and then we’ll put your hand back together.”
Luca bent his fingers and flexed his wrist, stretching out his hand to see how everything felt. He looked up at Ilya, who still had a death grip on his forearm.
“Can I bend my elbow a little, cap?”
Shane spoke before Ilya could answer. “Ilya, ease up on the kid.”
Ilya let go, and Luca adjusted to get more comfortable, but he didn't turn his head to look.
With his mind now off his hand, Luca finally clocked how Shane and Ilya were looking at one another.
“You do know that it’s super weird you’re friends, right? I was ten when I started watching you both back home in Switzerland.”
Shane nodded. “So is he a good captain in real life?” Shane asked. “You were happy to be drafted by Ottawa?”
“Yeah. I mean, I would have been happy with anything… except San Francisco. That guy scares me. None of us in the draft wanted to go.”
“Fuck San Francisco,” Ilya said. Shane rolled his eyes. Luca just smiled.
“I know you work together, but I never would have believed that you were friends… Or that Ilya would be so nice to someone on the Voyageurs,” Luca said. He looked to Ilya. “Even your pre-game speech tonight was…”
“Was what?” Shane asked, beaming like a secret was about to be exposed.
Ilya glared down at Luca, who got visibly more shy.
“I probably shouldn’t say… it was just more intense than usual.”
Shane laughed. “It’s ok, Haasy. We still like to keep the rivalry going. We just don’t care so much off the ice.”
“Shane and I spent a lot of time together,” Ilya said. “The league always wanted us together, always wanted a show. And I was a scared boy here alone from across the world too, yes? Very hot and muscular, and tough of course, but also scared. Shane understood what the attention and pressure was like. Maybe not the hot and muscular part, but he knew the hockey and media part.”
“But he is hot.” It was out of Luca’s mouth before he realized what he was saying.
Ilya and Shane both caught the quick blush from Luca, but before Ilya could truly mess with him, Terry was asking for Luca’s hand again.
Ilya went to take hold of Luca’s forearm.
“Wait,” Luca said. “Could you… could you let me do it? I want to know that I can do it myself.”
“Oh. Of course.”
Ilya removed his hand and reached out to ruffle up Luca’s hair.
“Can you feel this, Luca?” Terry poked around the cut.
“Feel what?”
Luca turned his head out of curiosity as Terry picked up the hook-shaped suture needle. Luca visibly recoiled, but he didn't move his arm.
"Hey, hey." Ilya had his hand back on Luca’s head, guiding him to look away, his palm acting like a blinder.
“I won’t hold you down,” Ilya said. “But keep your eyes up here.”
Luca tried to keep his attention on Ilya’s thumb running across his temple.
“Just a few more minutes and then you’ll be good to get out of here,” Terry said.
Luca never let go of Shane’s hand as Terry stitched the skin back together.
“So weird,” Luca muttered to himself.
“Stitches feel weird?” Ilya asked.
“Yes, but also just… this. The two of you. And me. Here. It's just so weird.”
Ilya laughed. "I hope it's a good kind of weird."
Luca nodded.
Suddenly the headrest on the table was being lifted, and Luca's injured hand was placed back on his stomach.
“All done, Luca. Keep it dry for 2 days, and then I’ll take the stitches out next week back in Ottawa.”
Luca nodded. He looked down at the bandage on his hand and then up to Terry.
“Thank you. For everything.” He turned to Shane. “You too.”
“Keep it dry but still shower, yes?” Ilya joked. “You are on cramped team bus ride tomorrow.”
“Yes, cap.”
Shane took the blanket and Luca hopped down only to be pulled into a tight embrace by Ilya.
"All fixed up?"
Luca nodded and then took a step back.
“Ok, get your things," Ilya said. "And then I drop you off at hotel.”
“You’re not coming into the hotel too?” Luca asked.
“No." Ilya smirked. "I am... meeting someone.”
“He’s got a date,” Shane said, some humor in his voice.
Luca looked mortified. “Oh no. I ruined your date night?”
“No, no. You ruin nothing. Come on. I think LaPointe even packed up your stall for you.”
They collected Luca’s gear from the floor and headed toward the door.
“Get ready to lose in 3 weeks, Hollander!” Ilya said over his shoulder. “Centaurs are best team!”
“We just beat you an hour ago!” Shane yelled back.
Ilya brushed his hand into the air and followed Luca out into the hall.
---------
Ilya typed in the code at the front door of Shane’s Montreal apartment and pushed the door open, but Shane’s hands and mouth were on him before he could fully get inside. Ilya forced him back, never losing contact.
They pulled off each other’s shirts as they clumsily made their way toward the bedroom, mouths still moving.
When they got to the edge of the bed, Shane broke away to get out of his pants.
“How was he on the ride back? Was he suspicious?”
“You are thinking of my rookie right now? Hollander, your stunning naked boyfriend is standing right in front of you.”
Shane crashed into him again. He pushed Ilya back onto the bed and climbed on top of him, stroking his chest.
“No," Shane said. "I’m thinking of how much I liked watching you being an amazing captain. You’re going to be a great dad.”
“Oh, you’re saying you want to have babies with me?”
“You know what I mean.”
Ilya pulled him down into a deep kiss.
“Our beautiful, talented kids are going to be so lucky.”
“The luckiest.”