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The first time it happened, Scott Hunter thought it was a coincidence.
He was excited, maybe slightly nervous, to be playing against the Ottawa Centaurs for the first time since they acquired Shane Hollander. As much as Rozanov was a pain in his ass, he and Hollander had become good friends of his and Kip’s since they were forced out. And if the Admirals could beat Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov then it would prove they were a force to be reckoned with this year.
Scott skated onto the ice for warm-ups and then,
“D-I-N-O-S-A, U-R A DINOSAUR—”
The entire arena exploded with Kesha.
Scott pointedly ignored Rosanov, who he was sure was laughing up a storm and continued with his stretches.
Then when he went up to his first faceoff with Hollander,
“An O-L-D M-A-N
You're just an old man
Hittin' on me, what?”
Hollander purposefully would not meet his gaze, which was not unusual, but combined with the song choice, it gave Hunter pause.
—
By the second period, it became clear this was not an accident.
Every single time Scott came onto the ice, the opening bars of Dinosaur blasted through the arena speakers.
“D-I-N-O-S-A, U-R A DINOSAUR—”
And every time he looked at Rozanov, he had the most innocent expression on his face, well innocent for Rozanov, which just further confirmed Scott’s suspicions that this was planned.
At this point the damage was done. Twenty thousand people in Ottawa were now screaming “DINOSAUR” every time Scott touched the puck.
Hunter rammed Ilya into the boards. “I’m going to kill you.”
“At your age? You could break your hip trying,” Ilya laughed as he skated away with the puck.
—
It was near the end of the third period when Hunter had finally lost his mind.
The score was tied 2-2.
The tension on the ice was palpable.
And Scott Hunter was fed up with the annoying Russian with too much money and access to arena staff.
“You bribed somebody,” Scott accused during their faceoff.
Ilya grinned. “Maybe.”
“How much?”
“Surprisingly cheap. Canadians are very helpful.”
The linesman was visibly trying not to laugh.
Scott leaned closer. “I hate you.”
“You should be proud, is gay anthem, something you elder gay should appreciate."
“Don’t lecture me on gay anthems Rozanov” Scott spat at him.
“I would never. You threw the first brick at Stonewall, da? I have nothing but respect for my elder gays.” and with that comment, Rozanov won the faceoff.
Naturally, Ilya scored the game winning goal and skated directly past Scott afterward.
“YOU ARE A DINOSAUR—”
Scott dropped to one knee on the ice in despair while the entire arena sang along.
Shane coasted past him more slowly, biting the inside of his cheek so hard he was probably bleeding.
Scott pointed accusingly at him. “You encouraged this.”
“I literally told him not to.”
“But you laughed.”
“…a little.”
“You laughed a lot.”
Shane failed to answer because he was, in fact, laughing again.
Scott looked between the two Centaur players, the Russian menace and hockey's golden boy hopelessly in love with him, and sighed so loudly they probably heard it back in New York.
“I’m never hanging out with either of you ever again.”
Ilya beamed. “You will miss us.”
“Never.”
The speakers played one final triumphant:
“D-I-N-O-S-A—”
Scott flipped off the entire arena as the crowd cheered.