Chapter Text
Boodram woke up to a rhythmic thud against the wall.
He opened one eye into the darkness of the hotel room, stared blankly at the glowing red numbers on the clock, and immediately regretted consciousness.
11:07 p.m.
Another slam rattled the headboard behind him.
Nick Chouinard groaned from the other bed. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Zane dragged a pillow over his face. “I’m requesting a trade.”
“Ditto.”
The wall shook again, harder this time.
Nick slowly lowered his blanket. “Jesus Christ.”
Everyone on the team knew Shane and Ilya were loud. They were married, disgustingly in love, and completely incapable of behaving like normal people in hotels. Usually the damage was limited to smug breakfast faces and maybe a few suggestive comments from Troy.
This, however, sounded like a structural issue.
Another rapid series of bangs hit the wall.
THUDTHUDTHUDTHUD.
Zane sat upright tugging on his durag. “Okay, no. Absolutely not. Nobody moves like that.”
Nick was already grabbing his phone.
CENTAURS4LIFE
——————
Nicky: whoever put us beside the honeymoon suite deserves prison time
BigBoody: i can feel the drywall flexing
Troyboy: 😂
HayTheir: stop blwing up the group chat and go to sleep oml
Zane: yes mommy sweet dreams
Another burst of slamming exploded through the room. Faster now. Almost constant.
THUDTHUDTHUDTHUDTHUD.
Muffled yelling followed.
“Sha——-my—-god”
“—-stop—-stop—STOP”
Nick froze. “Did Shane just die?”
“I think Ilya might be dying too.”
Something hit the wall hard enough to make the lamp tremble.
They still couldn’t make out words, only intensity.
Then came one final catastrophic barrage of impacts that sounded like somebody throwing furniture down a staircase.
And then silence.
Complete blissful silence.
Nick blinked at Zane and he blinked back.
Finally Nick said, “If they miss morning skate, I’m calling Weibe.”
Neither of them slept particularly well after that.
—————-
Breakfast the next morning was chaos.
The moment Ilya walked into the hotel restaurant, half the team burst into applause.
Troy stood up dramatically. “The fastest man alive!”
Wyatt slapped the table. “Buddy broke the sound barrier.”
Evan looked genuinely impressed. “Your hip flexors okay there, Rozanov?”
Ilya paused beside the coffee station, sunglasses on despite being indoors. “What are idiots talking about now?”
The entire table erupted at once.
“You almost gave me a concussion.”
“The wall was vibrating.”
“There are children in this hotel, man.”
Nick pointed an accusing fork. “At one point I thought you where faking it. To fucking bad.”
Ilya listened to all of it with increasing amusement.
Then a slow, smug grin spread across his face.
“Ah,” he said. “You think slamming was me.” He said with raised eyebrows.
The table quieted.
Ilya sipped his coffee.
“Was not me,” he said pleasantly. “Shane was on top, how you American people say. Doing cowgirl.”
Absolute silence.
Then Troy wheezed so hard he nearly fell out of his chair. “Oh my god, Shane!”
Wyatt covered his face with both hands.
Nick stared into the middle distance. “I want to unhear that sentence.”
Ilya stirred his coffee. “Well more like cowboy but-eh.”
Evan was crying laughing now. “No way.”
Ilya leaned back in his chair, entirely too satisfied with himself. “My husband has very strong legs.”
“Apparently not anymore,” Zane muttered. “Where is he?”
Ilya checked his phone casually. “Still in bed”
A beat passed.
Then Ilya added, with unbearable smugness, “Cannot walk just yet.”
Troy sat upright tugging and put a hand out towards Ilya. “He needs to teach me his ways if THAT was all him.”
“He has had lots of experience.” Ilya said with a stupid wink that made half the table groan.
“Shit the fuck up Cap.” LaPointe said throwing a bunched up napkin.
“Do not be jealous my husband can do tricks on it better then any club girl you have met. Is not good for you.” Ilya said standing up.
Boo’s rang out from around the table.
“Yes yes, I love you too. Now I must bring food to sick immobile husband.” Ilya made his way over to the buffet table flipping the team off as he turned.
When he was out of earshot, Wyatt spoke again.
“But seriously how the fuck can he do that?”