Archive of Our Own

As with most of Ilya’s schemes, this one started with observing the oddities of those around him. The rookies were always the best font of inspiration, but this may have been Ilya’s finest work to date.

Shane always liked to arrive to practice before anyone else so, for purely practical purposes, Ilya went with him. This was not “co-dependency” as Galina had suggested, simply fuel efficiency and climate responsibility. Therefore, whilst Shane checked in with the PT about a lingering shoulder injury, Ilya was walking towards the changing rooms early enough that the younger players who had come in for media that morning still believed they had the facility to themselves.

It wasn’t uncommon for Harris to call in specific subgroups of players for media work. He had a keen sense for who had the most comfortable dynamics and therefore would be willing to break from the stiff answers most hockey players were known for. Shane was almost always interviewed with Ilya and Bood, whilst the “rookie” crew of Young, LaPointe, Haas and Holmberg were fan-favourites for their constant internet references and willingness to be ridiculous on camera.

It seemed the rookies had finished early because they were now blasting music and singing along (very badly in Ilya’s opinion) to something Ilya had never come across before.

“HE’S BOUNCING OFF MY BOOTY CHEEKS I LOVE THE WAY HE RIDES”

Ilya paused outside the door, confused at what he was hearing. Obviously he knew Haas was gay, but the other three were harder to read. Perhaps they were in a polycule that Ilya had somehow missed? Ilya had to know if his impeccable gaydar had slipped so severely as a matter of utmost urgency. He eased open the door, just enough to peak around.

All the players were dressed in their base layers, comfortable between shooting and practice, but not obviously attempting to be enticing to one another. Haas was sitting in his stall with his hand held over his face in a meagre attempt to mask an embarrassed smile and an almighty blush.

As for the other three…

“I CAN HARDLY BREATHE WHILE HE’S PUMPING DEEP INSIDE!” Young sang/screamed into the blade of Holmberg’s stick as a makeshift microphone, accompanied by LaPointe holding his hips and miming said pumps. They were all incredibly enthusiastic in their roles with concerningly convincing expressions and exaggerated moans punctuating the lines.

Holmberg pulled his stick back to use the “microphone himself. “HE KISSES ON MY NECK AND THEN HE KISSES ON MY BUSSY” Is sung, accompanied by a pop of the hip and a smack to his own rear to finish the line. Young and LaPointe seem to be feeling each other up with growing intensity.

Ilya decides this is the point for him to fully enter the room. Whatever is going on here appears to need an intervention from the bisexual fairy godmother stronger than a trip to The Kingfisher. LaPointe released Young and spun around, eyes closed and holding the stick he’d stolen from Holmberg.

With gusto, he sang “CALL HIM DADDY WHILE I HOLLER-” cutting himself off abruptly with a yelp as he opened his eyes to make direct eye contact with Ilya. At his yelp, the other three young men scrambled to shut off the music and act normal in the most obviously guilty ways that Ilya could imagine.

“Cap! Hi! You’re very early today!” Holmberg stumbled out whilst LaPointe was still frozen in horror, mouth agape.

Before Ilya could start to think of a reply, Young was pleading for his forgiveness with a confusing jumble of “It’s not what it looks like” and “I swear I’m not homophobic” and most confusingly of all “My dog is gay and I took them to pride!”

Haas sighed at the antics of his friends and stood to give what Ilya hoped would be a coherent sentence. “Cap, I’m gay. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I told these guys today and they wanted to do a show to support me. They’re not homophobic, I swear, please don’t go to coach about this? Or Hollzy, please!” The emotion in Luca’s voice was clear and built as his speech went on, his hands wringing and his flow becoming rapid.

Ilya’s heart broke for him. The Centaurs were a safe team, but coming out was never entirely comfortable. Ilya decided that now was not the moment to tell Haas that he already knew and instead he drew the boy in for a tight hug.

“You’re always safe with me, Haasy. I’m confused, but I know you are not homophobes.” Ilya said, then turning his attention to the other young players. “Young, LaPointe, Bergy! Do you need any gay wisdom? My husband is very bad at being gay so please do not go to him.”

“We’re not gay!”
“It’s not like that!”
“It’s only to be better at hockey!”
All 3 shouted out at once with equal urgency. After taking a second to process, all eyes turned to LaPointe, trying to determine what he could have meant.

“Better at hockey?” Ilya asked, wondering if he even wanted to know what LaPointe had come up with.

“You know, gay hockey players are better at hockey so you have to suck a dick if you have the yips or a dry spell. I thought everyone knew about this? It's all over Reddit!” LaPointe got increasingly emphatic as he was met with blank stares from everyone else in the room.

“Does not matter, so you all sing this song in a not gay but not homophobic way? Please explain.” Ilya pivoted back to the question he really needed an answer to.

“It's a certified banger, cap. We had to celebrate the gayest man we know with the gayest song we know.” Young said earnestly. It was clear this was a genuine show of solidarity and allyship.

Ilya turned to Luca, deadly serious but gentle in his concern. “Are you comfortable? That's all that matters. I will not have our gay players involved in jokes that feel at their expense.” Ilya’s eyes scanned the room, daring anyone to challenge him.

Luca sighed, “It's okay, cap, they're just stupid but harmless.”

“It's allyship!” Holmberg added proudly, seemingly oblivious to the insult.

“Please, continue them!” Ilya commanded, walking over to his locker and reclining like a king before his court jesters.

“Please don't, cap!” LaPointe blushed.

“I need to know. Play the song.” Ilya offered no more explanation and sat pensively through the rest of the song.

Shane noted later that night that he'd never seen Holmberg, Young and LaPointe miss so many passes.

————

Two weeks later, Shane was out injured. The injury he'd been tending to had only gotten worse with two weeks of a full contact sport so now he was out on IR.

Naturally, Shane despised this and was taking out his frustration on the sofa as he tried to tidy it one-handed.

“I'm sorry, moya podushka, I'll score extra for you.” Ilya kissed his husband, removing the decorative cushion from his hand and placing it back on the sofa.

Shane sunk his head into Ilya's shoulder and sighed, “I just don't want to miss a game that matters so much. I know they think they're better than us because we're together and they've been so awful to Barret and Hayes. I don't want them to think they were right about me being weak!”

Ilya hummed sympathetically and pressed a kiss to Shane's head. Things were serious if he wouldn't participate in a Russian vocabulary lesson. “I will destroy them for you tonight. Where there is one of us, we're both there in my heart.” Ilya’s tone turned suggestive as he whispered, “We will humiliate them for you, and then maybe you could reward me in the trophy room?”

Shane looked up and kissed Ilya passionately. “One orgasm for each goal.” He gasped out as they broke apart.

Ilya knew he had to do something spectacular tonight.

————

The idea had been fermenting for 2 weeks now, but he knew that Shane would never allow it. However, with his husband stuck safely at home, now was his chance.

Ilya's ally came in the unlikeliest form: Evan Dykstra. It turns out it takes little beyond suggesting a “new country song he heard” for his playlist to be open to new additions. In a phrase never uttered before, the team was lucky that Dykstra was on aux tonight.

Ilya knew he needed one other person on board. It would be an easy job because if anyone hated Toronto more than him, it was the man whose boyfriend still felt unsafe in that city.

Harris had access to the sound system of the entire arena. It was never meant to be something he used, he was just backup gameday manager and so it was protocol to give him access. The speakers throughout the tunnels were only usually used for announcements, but today they would shine.

When Ilya walked into the locker room, every player could tell by his devious grin that something was about to happen. Their suspicion only deepened when he declared that it was Dykstra’s turn on aux.

“Cap, please, you can’t do this to us!”
“He’s going to play that awful Manitoba stuff!”
“This is worse than Haas’ eurovision playlist.”
“I can’t believe you’re making this game even worse, this might be the worst day ever.”
“I’ll give you your tape back, jeez!”

Cries of complaint rang out, but Ilya silenced them with a clap of his hands and a sharp “Fucking listen!”

“We are missing the second best player on this team today.” Ilya announced gravely. “We must play smart. I have learned about sports psychology and I plan to use it! Dykstra, please play my song.”

Unlike usual when playing music for the locker room, this time it echoed through the hallways as well. The whole network of tunnels under the stadium seats was filled with gentle guitar as Ilya’s song started to play.

“Ilya, what is this? It’s just country?” Troy Barret seemed completely bewildered.

In the corner, a range of emotions from horror to glee were plastered on the faces of their young players.
“Surely not…”
“You wouldn’t…”
“Is this..?”

“Wait for the chorus my impatient horse people!” Ilya cried with glee.

He’s bouncing off my booty cheeks, I love the way he rides.
I can hardly breathe when he’s pumping deep inside.

Barret choked on his water. Bood burst out laughing. The youngest players started singing along after realising that their “gayest team in the league” was okay with this. The rest of the players seemed mildly bewildered and definitely amused.

“So the Guardians locker room can hear this?” Troy asked in disbelief.

“Are you decent?” Harris called before barreling in, a grin even brighter than his usual split across his face. “They can hear it for sure, you should hear Kent whining!”

“This will throw them off! We can get into their heads!” Ilya chirped with glee. “Add any similar songs and we will win!”

Young, Holmberg and LaPointe all jumped for Dykstra’s phone to add several versions of a song series apparently called “Ram Ranch”.

As the pre-game playlist went on, the songs got more and more debaucherous and gay. It was incredible and Ilya couldn’t wait to see the impact on Toronto.

————

Warm-ups for Toronto were a mess. Kent was playing angry and so were most of his teammates. Their passes were sloppy and although shots were fired hard, they regularly missed. Several players seemed uncomfortable doing their usual stretches, doing them half-heartedly and avoiding any eye contact.

In contrast, the Centaurs were more connected than ever and were fully present on the ice. Wyatt was humming Good Lookin’ to himself whilst player after player shot at him. The shots were solid and well aimed, but Wyatt still managed to block many.

Ilya focused on a complex passing drill with Haas and Barrett. This game was going to be mentally grueling for them so they needed to start focused and confident.

“Good connection, Haas.”
“Nice lane finding, Barrett.”
“Keep up that level of focus, is very good!”

Ilya let the encouragement flow freely and relished in watching Troy's shoulders drop and Luca begin to smile.

After warm-ups, Ilya kept his pre-game speech brief “We fucked with them mentally, so they will try to fuck with us mentally, but they're not fucking creative like we fucking are. We are the fucking best and we will fuck them up! Let's fucking go!”

————

The Guardians played rough, but sloppy. The Centaurs were easily able to outmanoeuvre them and Ilya seemed to glow brighter with every hit he took. He proudly sang lines he remembered from some of their songs and hummed others constantly.

As usual, Wyatt was singing in the crease except this time it was Good Lookin' on repeat which seemed to deflect almost as many shots as his blocker.

By the end of the second period, Ilya has scored twice, once with an assist from Barrett and once unassisted. He'd assisted on another goal for Barrett and Luca had assisted LaPointe on the second line. So far, they were winning 4-2, but it wasn't enough for Ilya.

He checked his phone and saw a message from Shane.

“I am scoring one more! Tonight will be a hat trick for my husband!” Ilya announced proudly.

————

Ilya got his goal and after a gruelling third period, the game ended 5-3 to the Centaurs.

Shane watched from home as they moved on to post-game interviews. He wanted to know why the Guardians had fallen apart so badly.

“I think the Centaurs playlist really threw us in the first two, but we pulled it back in the third.” Dallas Kent panted into a mic. It disgusted Shane who always tried to compose himself before speaking.

What an odd thing for him to blame the loss on, though? Shane never paid much attention to the music, but it certainly wasn't enough to throw off a game. He decided to text Ilya.