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Shane looked up at the crowd surrounding the ice as he slowly skated, just soaking in the feeling. While this was his 4th time winning the Stanley Cup, it definitely never got old. Hearing the crowd roar as the clock ran out, his teammates around him screaming and celebrating, and the satisfaction that came with knowing that he was part of the best team in MLH once again. Not to mention, this time he got to do it with the love of his life, his husband, his best friend, Ilya Rozanov.
As if he could tell Shane was thinking of him, Ilya glided up next to him and stopped, putting a hand on his shoulder, the one that carried the “A” that complemented the “C” that was emblazoned on Ilya’s. When Shane had first gotten to the Centaurs, it had been weird no longer being captain. After all, he had been captain of the Montreal Voyageurs for the better part of a decade. But after spending two seasons playing together and watching Ilya lead their team, there was no doubt in Shane’s mind who the better captain was.
Ilya’s voice cut through Shane’s thoughts, “So we’re betting, yes?”
Shane looks at Ilya, confused, “What are we betting on? Who blacks out first tonight?”
“No, malysh, the Conn Smythe. They’ll announce it soon, we need to decide on a bet now if we’re going to.”
“Why would we bet on that?”
Ilya raises an eyebrow, “Oh? Scared you won’t win, Hollander?”
Shane shakes his head, not rising to the bait, “Not at all, Rozanov.”
“So what, you’re so certain you’re winning you don’t think a bet is worth your time?”
Shane rolls his eyes, “Nope, that’s not it either.”
Ilya tilts his head, “So why not? Winning Stanley Cup too exciting? Have to hit your boring quota for today so you have to turn down bet?”
Shane shoves his shoulder, “No you asshole, I won’t bet you because there’s no way in the world I deserve it over you. I know we enjoy competing, even now when we’re on the same team, but if you don’t get that trophy, it’s basically meaningless.”
Ilya’s eyes softened, “Oh moy lyubov, that’s sweet, but don’t sell yourself short. We wouldn’t be here without you. And you scored only one less than I did in the playoffs despite being on the second line.”
Shane shook his head, “I’m not selling myself short, Ilya. I know I played damn good, but without you as our captain, Ottawa doesn’t make the playoffs, let alone a cup final. You took a bottom five team and made them Stanley Cup champions in 4 seasons.”
Ilya’s head dips towards his chest, clearly embarrassed by the compliment, “I couldn’t have done it without the rest of the team. I got lucky.”
Shane reached out, grabbing Ilya by the chin and tilting his face back up so he had to look him in the eye, “No you didn’t. Yes we have a good team. But a team is only as good as their leader. I should know, I spent almost 10 years leading those assholes in Montreal. It was hard as hell. But you? You make being captain look easy, even though I know it’s not. You’re a natural leader. The guys respect you and they walk into every game ready to go to war for you and do anything they need to do to get the win. I never had that with the Voyageurs, everyone there was playing for themselves. And some of that was the fact that most of them are jerks, but I was also never the captain you are. And that’s why you deserve that trophy.”
Ilya’s eyes got shiny with tears, “I love you, solnyshko. But I could not have done it without you. You push me to be better, everyday.”
Shane nods, “I know I do, but you do that for everyone on this team. And when someone falters? You put them on your back and carry them until they can stand on their own two feet again.”
With those words a tear finally slips free and slides down Ilya’s cheek. Shane leans forward to kiss it away before moving to place a soft kiss on his lips. As he pulls back, he sees the commissioner making his way out to the rink accompanied by the Conn Smythe trophy being pushed on its podium. He gestures in that direction, “We should head over, it looks like they’re about to announce the winner.”
Ilya takes a deep breath and does his best to pull himself together, giving Shane a cheeky grin, “You sure you don’t want to bet? Even if you don’t win you’ll have plenty of fun being my prize.”
Shane rolls his eyes before replying, “Oh I intend to be your prize, I don’t need a bet to do that. I’ve already got plenty of ideas for your reward later. Don’t wear yourself out too much celebrating with the guys, you’re gonna need your strength.”
With a wink, Shane skated away towards the Centaurs bench to wait with the rest of the team, leaving Ilya standing speechless behind him. After a few seconds his brain caught back up and he glanced down, hoping his bulky uniform hid the hard-on that had quickly formed at his husband’s words. The last thing he needed was his boner to be broadcast on national television, the internet was filled with a bunch of little freaks so it would definitely go viral and the guys would never let him live that down.
Once he was certain he was safe from confirming the many rumors he had seen online regarding his size, he skated after his husband, looking forward to spending the rest of the night celebrating, both in public and in private.