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Summary:

Part two of “Swiss Child.”

 

Luca Haas shows up to practice covered in hickeys. How does the Centuars react to the team baby being a lil freak.

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Luca Haas arrived at the arena convinced that if he acted normal enough, nobody would suspect a thing.

This was, in hindsight, a ridiculous assumption.

The Ottawa Centaurs were many things. Talented. Competitive. Loyal to a fault.

They were also unbelievably nosy.

Ever since the previous day’s disaster in the team group chat, they had been waiting for answers.

Luca had spent an entire day ignoring his phone, only to finally reappear and accidentally admit that he’d stayed the night with a guy. A guy who might be a boyfriend. A guy whose name Luca had stubbornly refused to reveal despite relentless interrogation from nearly the entire roster.

The teasing had continued well into the evening.

By the time Luca had gone to bed, his phone contained dozens of messages ranging from How was the date? to When’s the wedding?

He should have known they wouldn’t simply forget about it overnight.

The moment he stepped into the locker room, conversations paused.

Not dramatically. Not enough for someone unfamiliar with the team to notice.

But Luca noticed.

Every veteran in the room looked up.

Boodram was the first to grin.

Luca immediately regretted showing up.

“Morning, Swiss Child.”

Luca groaned before he had even reached his stall.

“I’m leaving.”

“No you’re not.”

“I am.”

“Nope.”

Wyatt leaned back against his locker, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“How was your evening?”

“It was fine.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It is an answer.”

“It’s a terrible answer.”

Luca dumped his gear bag onto the floor with slightly more force than necessary. Around him, several teammates exchanged amused glances.

The worst part was that none of them seemed genuinely malicious. If they had been trying to embarrass him, he could have gotten annoyed.

Instead, they all looked delighted.

Like a collection of older brothers who had just discovered their youngest sibling was growing up.

Which, unfortunately, wasn’t entirely inaccurate.

Luca had joined the team as one of the youngest players in the organization. He’d been twenty when he arrived, fresh from Switzerland, nervous and desperate to prove he belonged in the NHL.

The veterans had immediately adopted him.

Not officially.

Nobody had ever sat down and declared Luca the team baby.

It had simply happened.

Somewhere between road trips and practices and team dinners, he’d become everyone’s little brother.

The result was that every player in the room now considered themselves personally invested in his life.

Especially Shane and Ilya.

The unofficial team dads.

Luca still wasn’t sure how they’d ended up with that reputation.

Actually, that wasn’t true.

He knew exactly how.

Shane was constantly checking in on younger players, offering advice whenever someone struggled, quietly helping teammates through bad games and rough stretches.

And Ilya…

Well.

Ilya cared with the subtlety of a freight train.

If one of his teammates looked tired, he noticed.

If someone seemed upset, he noticed.

If someone skipped meals, wasn’t sleeping enough, or was having a difficult time, Ilya somehow always knew.

He’d deny being protective if anyone asked.

But everyone knew the truth.

Including Luca.

Which was why he wasn’t particularly surprised when Shane appeared beside his stall a few minutes later.

“Morning.”

“Morning.”

“You okay?”

Luca laughed.

“There it is.”

“There what is?”

“The dad check-in.”

Shane rolled his eyes.

“I’m serious.”

“I know.”

“And?”

Luca smiled despite himself.

“I’m good.”

Shane studied him for a second before nodding.

“Good.”

Then he paused.

A grin appeared.

“Oh, and Boodram owes me twenty dollars.”

Luca blinked.

“What?”

“We had a bet.”

“A bet?”

“About whether you’d actually show up today.”

Luca stared at him.

“You bet on me?”

“A little.”

“A little?”

“It was a team effort.”

From across the room, Boodram called out, “Tell him I want my money back.”

Luca buried his face in his hands.

“This organization is unbelievable.”

“Correct,” Wyatt said.

The room erupted into laughter.

For a while things settled down.

The conversation shifted toward practice, upcoming games, travel schedules, and the usual nonsense that filled an NHL locker room.

Eventually players started changing.

Luca relaxed.

The worst was over.

Clearly.

Obviously.

There was absolutely no way this day could get any worse.

Then he took off his shirt.

The silence was immediate.

One second the room was full of conversation.

The next there was nothing.

No laughter.

No talking.

No movement.

Just silence.

Luca frowned.

Slowly, he looked up.

Everyone was staring at him.

Every single person.

“Oh no.”

Nobody answered.

That was somehow more alarming.

Boodram looked like he was trying not to laugh.

Wyatt looked seconds away from passing out.

Troy had abruptly become fascinated by the floor.

Nick was biting the inside of his cheek so hard his face was turning red.

“What?” Luca asked.

Still nobody spoke.

Luca looked down.

And immediately wanted to die.

Because scattered across his collarbone, neck, shoulders, and upper chest were several very obvious marks.

Not enough to be hidden.

Not enough to be ignored.

Just enough to explain exactly why the entire locker room had suddenly stopped functioning.

For one horrifying moment, nobody moved.

Then Wyatt made a strangled noise.

The room exploded.

“Oh my God.”

“Wyatt—”

“Oh my God.”

Luca grabbed the nearest shirt and held it against his chest.

“This is a nightmare.”

Boodram doubled over laughing.

“I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

“No, honestly, I’m not.”

That made everyone laugh harder.

Troy had his face hidden behind both hands.

Nick looked seconds away from falling off the bench.

Even Evan was grinning.

Luca seriously considered retiring.

Maybe moving continents.

Possibly changing his identity.

Anything seemed preferable to whatever this was.

The teasing only grew worse when someone pointed out that there were more marks visible along the back of his shoulders.

That information nearly killed him.

He was busy contemplating whether spontaneous combustion was medically possible when the locker room door opened.

The room instantly quieted.

Luca didn’t need to look up to know who had arrived.

Only one player could silence an entire locker room simply by entering it.

Ilya Rozanov stepped inside carrying his equipment bag.

The captain stopped.

Looked around.

Narrowed his eyes.

Immediately sensed trouble.

“What happen?”

Nobody answered.

Several players looked away.

That was enough.

Ilya had spent over a decade in professional hockey.

He knew exactly what a guilty locker room looked like.

His gaze slowly swept across the room before landing on Luca.

Then on the shirt clutched awkwardly against Luca’s chest.

Then on the expressions everyone was desperately trying to hide.

A moment passed.

Then another.

Finally understanding dawned.

“Oh.”

The room lost control again.

Luca groaned.

“Please.”

Ilya ignored him.

The captain sat down at his stall, still looking entirely too amused.

“You disappear for day.”

Luca covered his face.

“I know.”

“You answer texts after everyone think maybe you dead.”

“I wasn’t dead.”

“Then today you show up looking like this.”

Luca wanted the floor to swallow him whole.

Across the room, Shane had given up pretending to be responsible and was laughing openly now.

Traitor.

Absolute traitor.

The worst part was that nobody seemed angry.

Nobody seemed judgmental.

If anything, they looked delighted.

Happy.

Protective in that strange Centaurs way that transformed every major life event into a team event.

Eventually the laughter died down enough for normal conversation to resume.

Mostly.

The occasional joke still appeared.

Wyatt was particularly relentless.

But beneath all the teasing was something softer.

Something familiar.

Because the more Luca listened, the more he realized nobody actually cared about the marks themselves.

They cared that he was happy.

That was what had everyone smiling.

Not the embarrassment.

Not the gossip.

The happiness.

For months, Luca had thrown himself into hockey. Training. Games. Recovery. Travel.

Now, for the first time in a while, there was someone making him smile the way he had been smiling recently.

And his teammates had noticed.

Of course they had.

These people noticed everything.

By the time practice finally began, the teasing had settled into occasional jokes and knowing looks.

As Luca finished getting dressed, Shane bumped his shoulder lightly.

“You okay?”

Luca looked around the room.

At Wyatt arguing with Boodram.

At Troy laughing quietly.

At Nick shaking his head.

At Ilya pretending not to watch everyone despite obviously watching everyone.

His family.

Ridiculous.

Embarrassing.

Overprotective.

Completely incapable of minding their own business.

But family nonetheless.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah,” he said.

And for perhaps the first time all morning, he actually meant it.

“I’m okay.”

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