Work Text:
Shane waited his turn in line for a room key, running on autopilot after the long ass flight followed by long ass practice where he'd tripped on his own skates and hit himself in the face with his own stick. His stomach was protesting the lack of routine nutrition it was used to during a game week, lack of routine anything if he was being honest. He'd fallen asleep on the bus, which meant he was one of the last people off, and Ilya was nowhere to be seen, probably already up in his own room already.
He knew on some level that it was just the stress of his first time travelling with the Centaurs and not really being able to see much of Ilya because they were always surrounded by teammates and staff, but it felt better to just be pissy and self-absorbed.
"Micko, 227, find Keeler." The rookie in front of him cleared out of Shane's way and he held out his hand for his key.
"Hollander? Something up?" The travel manager, Harper, said.
"Room key?" Shane asked.
"You got one already, didn't you?" Harper asked.
"Uh... no?" Shane said, feeling a flush creep up his neck. Was this some sort of hazing ritual?
"Ask your roommate." Harper said, turning away to pick up another pile of key cards.
Roommate? Fuck, of course he had a roommate now. Rookies always got put with a babysitter. He didn't know if he was the rookie or the veteran in this situation.
"Anyone know who I'm rooming with?" Shane asked. The guys within earshot looked at him but didn't answer.
"What, you not going to sleep with your lover? Have a little spat on the bus?" Hazy chirped from behind him, nudging him out of the way with his bag so he could accept his own key card.
"That's gross, stop." Shane griped. "I don't know who I'm rooming with."
Hazy gave him a weird look, and started for the elevators. The lobby was starting to empty of players and staff. Fuck, how was he going to fix this? He really had to piss, and his eyes felt like they had sand in them. His brains had clearly been replaced with tapioca because why was he having a panic attack in a Best Western lobby? Should he tell Ilya?
No, that would make it worse. He didn't need his husband solving his team problems for him, and he didn't need anyone making any more jokes about him. He had made it this far in professional hockey, he could handle himself.
"Hollander?" Speak of the Russian you're trying to hide your panic from, and he will appear, ready to pry information out of you.
"Yes, Rozanov?" Shane said, aware that he sounded as pissy as he currently felt. Was that a headache brewing? Probably.
"What are you waiting for, time to go to rooms." Ilya said.
"I don't know who I'm rooming with." Shane mumbled at the ground.
"What?" Ilya asked.
"He doesn't know who his roommate is, cap." Hazy yells from the elevator.
"Hollander, did you hit your head during practice?" Ilya's rude Russian bellow is the opposite of anything Shane wants to deal with right now.
"No, jeez." Shane replies.
"You sure you do not have concussion?" Ilya continues to interrogate.
"Rozanov, please." Shane begs. "I just want to go to bed, I'm tired."
"Da, I can tell. Come on, I have your key." Ilya gestures toward the elevator.
"What?" Shane asks, coming over. Ilya rolls his eyes at him.
"Oh my god." Hazy snorts. The others are hiding snickers behind their hands. Shane prickles, shrinking into his hoodie. He really has to piss. And go back to sleep. Or maybe wake up because this is kind of like a nightmare.
"Room 201." Ilya presses the key into his hand, then leans in to kiss the top of his head.
"Eugh, get a room." Someone says.
"Does no one hear me when I speak? I say we get room 201." Ilya smirks.
"Wait, what room are you in?" Shane asks. His brain is struggling to make any sort of connections right now.
"Shane, I worry you take coma instead of cat nap on bus." Ilya's eyebrows cannot physically travel any further up his forehead.
"Fuck off." Shane's at the end of his rope.
"Shane, sweetheart. I am in 201. You are in 201. We share room because we are married."
Embarrassment floods Shane, and he hides his face in Ilya's chest as their teammates laugh at him. Fuck him for expecting rigid expectations about their travel, and anticipating not to see his husband much even while travelling to the same locations together.
"Oh, mi pomodoro." Ilya teases him. "Captain privilege to choose my roommate. And I don't think Haasy wants to sleep in the hallway while we fuck on his bed."
There are wolf whistles, and jeers, and more of the centaurs' good-natured ribbing.
"Ay yi, enough. You are like pack of wolves on baby." Ilya chided.
"Please do not call me a baby in front of the team." Shane groaned.
"Aw, but you liked it when I called you baby and fed you chicken from my plate at the BBQ." Ilya pouts. Bood makes a gagging sound at them.
"Ohmigod, Ilya, stop. We are at work!" Shane protested.
"Oki oki, I sorry. Let me take you to bed. You are tired."
"Fucking gross. Who is in the room next to them? Better bring earplugs." Troy says.
"I do not think you have any room to talk here." Harris says, blinking sweetly.
"Oh no. Nonono, we are not doing this on the first hotel trip of the season. No one is fucking anyone, and you all will go to bed." Bood decrees. Finally, blessedly, the elevator arrives. The all file out, dispersing along the hall.
Shane and Ilya reach 201 at the same time as Luca and Bood approach 202.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Bood growls, looking at the key Luca is holding out to him. Luca, for his part, looks like he's just admitted to dropping a bomb on some puppies, equal parts fear and... well, more fear.
"I better not hear a damn peep out of any of you." Coach Wiebe says, pushing past them to room 200.
"Fuck!" Bood yells.
"Goodnightttttt." Ilya calls before slamming the door.
"Ilya..." Shane whines, collapsing on the bed after finally getting to take care of his bladder. "That was embarrassing."
"I know, solynshko, but we have to haze the rookie just a little, yes? And now I can take care of you. Take your shoes off and get into bed."
"I have to brush my teeth..." Shane protests.
"I bring to you. Your eyes are already closed. Go to sleep, sweetheart."
Shane's last thought is that he hates not brushing his teeth properly before bed. And flossing. He has to floss. And then he's asleep on top of the covers. Ilya sighs, and pulls the bedcovers over his husband before stretching out on the other bed and pulling up DoorDash for some food.
A sleepy noise of protest comes from the other bed. He can barely see Shane's face, swaddled in his hoodie and the blankets as he is.
"Is okay, sweetheart. I am here."
Ilya pads over to the bed and sits next to Shane, sacrificing one hand so Shane can wrap himself around it, sighing contentedly. He can order food one-handed.
Later, when he leaves to meet the driver in the lobby, he notices Luca in the hallway, sitting against the wall and nodding off. He rolls his eyes and goes to pick up his food.
Haas does spend fifteen minutes locked out in the hallway, but it's because Bood loses both keys when they go to dinner.