Work Text:
Shane and Ilya have been happily married for about two months and are very grateful to be blessed enough that the world thought it was a good idea to put them in the same team. They were powerhouses already on their own, but both of them together is a different powerscale that goes beyond what should be considered possible in the MLH.
The Centaurs were prepared to bear witness to the both of them being sweet, intimate, and maybe downright sexual in the locker room, not because they're gay, but more of, they have a lot of love they had to hold back in the past decade they've been together.
They were not prepared for Shane to call Ilya "Dude" when Ilya groaned, saying he forgot to bring their daily vitamins. Nor were they prepared to hear Ilya call Shane "Bro" when he accidentally broke the door knob trying to enter Coach Wiebe's office. They were not prepared for the two to scream, "Dude!" "Bro!" at each other when Shane perfectly immitated Ilya's signature move, The Rozanov, during training.
It even weirded out their opponents during Pre-Season matches. The Toronto Guardians, watched as, instead of kissing each other like they expected after a promised goal, Ilya gave Shane a fist bump and told him, "Nice fucking goal, Bro." Houde, who was the only one close enough to hear it without the use of lip readers, stared at them with abject horror.
Not to say they weren't affectionate in the locker room, because they are. The thing is, their affection seemed to be… gay straight Bromance instead of straight gay Bromance? Does that make sense?
The strangest part about it is that Shane and Ilya are only like that when they are in an arena, ready for training or for an actual game.
When they are out of the arena, they're back to acting like a normal couple. Like whatever they did in the locker rooms or ice never happened and that they never called each other Dude or Bro or did the gay straight Bromance thing.
"It's got to be some Dudebro Kink or something." Zane pinches the bridge of his nose, deep in thought.
"Maybe they're roleplaying some college hockey team forbidden love story?" Luca suggests.
Troy narrows his eyes, waving an accusatory finger at the blonde not-rookie. "Hush, child. You read too much fanfiction."
"Haasy does have a point though. Maybe it is some sort of roleplay." Wyatt hums on the floor of the Centaurs locker room. He was already half-dressed in his goalie gear, stretching out his lower half to prevent any strain.
Nick pops open his bottle of Gatorade and takes a big sip, smacking his lips together. "I suggest you guys wrap this conversation up because I have a feeling the Hollander-Rozanovs will be arriving at any second."
"Chewey, Sweetie. Leave the power of prediction to your resident goalies. They're possessive about predicting shit." Evan gestured to Wyatt and Matt Boyle.
Nick rolls his eyes.
"Oh, yes. Definitely leave a goalie's predictions alone."
Troy, who was closest to the door, yelps. Everyone turns to Shane Hollander-Rozanov, bag slung over his shoulder.
"Hey guys, what did I miss? What is Nick predicting?" Shane walks into the locker room, head held high.
"Something stupid, don't worry about it." Nick drawls, slipping on his shoulder pads. "I predicted Hazy would strain because he didn't stretch properly. Don't worry about it, Hollywood."
Wyatt looked at him, wide-eyed and offended, but didn't utter a single word.
Shane shrugged. "I keep telling him to join me with my morning yoga. Stretching is something you have to ease into."
"Which one of us has been a goalie for more than twenty years?" Wyatt squawked.
"And I'm pretty fucking sure I can still do a better job." Shane calls, taking off his shirt.
Ilya fucking Hollander-Rozanov entered the locker room, right at that moment. "DAMN BRO!" Ilya practically moaned at the sight of the shirtless Shane. The locker room had to hold in their groans of exasperation. "Your tits are so big."
"Dude, you saw my tits this morning." Shane sighs. Felix LaPointe slowly gave the couple a side eye and inched away.
"Still can't get enough of them." Ilya bit his lip.
"Just dress up! Dude, we got ice time in a few." Shane swatted his husband's wandering hands away, before putting his compression shirt on.
"Woof woof." Ilya barked, winking at Shane, before taking off his own shirt and putting on his gear.
In the background, Luca was hunched over in his cubby, covering his ears and staring wide eyed on the floor. Alex Holmberg was hitting his head over and over against the wall of his cubby.
Later in practice, true to Nick's predictions, Hazy strained himself, but it was because he got distracted by Ilya shouting "Nice pass, Bro!" at Shane.
Harris sat cross-legged on the couch, head tilted, as he watched Shane and Ilya try to fuse into one being on the bean bag right by the far corner of the living room. The team was visiting his family's farm for a team-building activity and Harris already had his camera ready.
He couldn't help but coo at the soft flutter of kisses that Shane was putting on Ilya's forehead, arms wrapped around Ilya like he was precious treasure. Which in this case, Ilya is Shane's precious treasure.
"Oh, how sweet…" Harris murmured to himself. To witness these two men, usually percieved as gods among men in the world of men, looking so deeply and intrisically human right at that very moment from their love alone. At first, Harris wondered what made these two men fit so well, but seeing as how they both grounded each other and completed each other, Harris just gets it.
"Thank God they're normal right now."
And moment ruined.
Harris sighs when a muscular pair of arms hugs him by the shoulder from behind the couch. "Hey, you." Troy whispered in his ear, voice a little raspy from all the team's screaming a few minutes before.
"Why do you keep treating the Hollander-Rozanovs weirdly whenever they're together?" Harris kept his voice low so that the aforementioned couple wouldn't overhear anything.
"They call each other 'dude' and 'bro' in the locker room and on the ice. I'm just so relieved they're not doing that right now or any other time out in public." Troy presses a kiss on Harris' neck. "I don't think I can handle hearing them calling each other 'dude' and 'bro' anywhere else."
"Troy…" Harris looks at him disappointed, grasping Troy's arm. "Have you ever considered that they're only doing it because they don't want to make the locker room feel uncomfortable?"
"How? So many of us are queer. I'm literally gay, Luca is unlabeled. Didn't Zane come out as bisexual as well? As for Wyatt, it's only a matter of time for him to realize that it's not normal for a 'straight man' to get heart palpitations when kissing your Frat Brother. So why would Shane and Ilya think they're making us uncomfortable?" Troy rests his head in the crook of Harris' neck.
"They spent years in more or less unsafe or hostile environments that made expressing their sexualities kind of dangerous. Troy, remember, Shane had only joined the team this year. Maybe they thought to act more like teammates than a couple to make the locker room feel normal to them? Maybe they thought, 'What if being a gay couple would make the others treat us differently?' Think about that." Harris gave Troy's arm two firm squeezes.
"Shit, you're right." Troy groans.
"Maybe talk with the team? All of you tell the Hollander-Rozanovs that they're safe to be more 'coupley' around the team." Harris suggests.
"Yeah… that sounds like a good idea. We can come up with something next practice."
Harris smiles, shifting around his seat to press a kiss Troy's forehead.
"That's my boy."
"Shit, Bro, I forgot my tape."
"Dude. Are you shitting me right now?"
The voices of the couple echo from the hall leading to the player's parking lot.
"Okay, they're definitely about to come inside." Jin Young moves away from the locker room door.
"Remember what we're going to say, guys! Don't fuck it up! Don't sound homophobic because we aren't!" Troy calls.
"Shut the hell up, Barrett." Zane snickers from where he is sat on his cubby.
Troy gasps, pointing at Zane. "Homophobia!"
Evan shoves him playfully. "Calm your tits, we discussed everything important in the group chat."
True enough. The team already had an existing group chat with Ilya and Shane so that they could coordinate who would room with who if their hotel room was placed beside the couple's during away games. When Troy, with the help of Harris, coordinated with the team to confront the couple with their concerns, everyone was already down to join.
Everyone in the team cared for Shane and Ilya and if it's true that the couple is doing their weird Gay Straight Bromance thing just for people to not feel uncomfortable in the arena, they just want the two to know they don't need to do that. That's all.
"Wow. Aren't you all tense. What's going on? Was there a fight?" Shane laughs worriedly, eyes looking inside the locker room.
"If there was a fight, extra bagskates for you all if you lie." Ilya threatens, glaring at the team from behind the team.
"There will be no bagskates..." Shane sighs, before sharpening his eyes. "…if there was no fight. So tell us if you guys are fighting and you better fucking resolve it before we get on the ice. I'm not dealing with this shit during practice." He crosses his arms.
"There was no fight." Zane assures Shane.
"So why the tension?" Ilya points at everyone in the room.
"The entire team has been meaning to talk to you guys, actually?" Luca says from where he was standing right next to Alex.
"Oh?" Shane walks to his locker and drops his bag down on the seat. "What about?"
"It's about you two." Nick drawls, head leaning against his cubby's wall.
"Ah. Is it about our relationship?" Ilya drops his bag right beside Shane's. "I promise we will not be divorcing anytime soon even though my Lover and I argue lots."
"Dude." Shane cringes at the word. "You know I hate that fucking word."
"Sorry, Bro." Ilya did not look sorry at all.
Troy sighs, pointing at the two of them. "That. It's exactly that. That's the reason why the team is staging an intervention. You've been making the entire locker room uncomfortable with that."
From Shane's view, Ilya looked deeply hurt over Troy's words.
"Fucking excuse me?"
Troy had to back away in terror when he was faced with a livid Shane Hollander.
"I-I mean— I didn't mean it that way—"
"Who are you, to say that to him? To us?" Shane spat at Troy. "Trying to expose Kent, coming out, does not make you any less of an asshole. Nothing but a shitstain that is stubbornly hard to fucking wipe off."
In the background, someone whispered, "Oh, shit."
"Please listen, this is all some misunderstanding—" Troy bites his lip.
"Shane, stop." Evan blocked Troy from Shane's sight.
"Move away, Dykstra. I need to set the record straight with Barrett over there." Shane spat.
"There is no record to set straight!" Troy squeaks.
"There really isnt." Evan place both his hands on Shane's shoulders. "Barrett is just an idiot sometimes."
Shane barked out a laugh, "Only sometimes?"
Zane sighs, taking over. "What we're trying to say is… You and Ilya call each other 'Dude' and 'Bro' a lot."
Frowning, Shane asks, "What about it?"
"You don't have to call each other 'Dude' and 'Bro' just for us to feel comfortable. If anything, the team feels uncomfortable about the fact that you guys are doing this, forcing yourselves to act like teammates instead of the couple that you guys are." Zane explains.
"Huh???" Ilya voices out, looking less hurt and more confused now. "What do you mean force? Hollander and I are teammates. Have all of you gotten concussions?"
Felix throws his hands up. "That doesn't mean you have to call each other 'Dude' and 'Bro'! You can call each other 'Baby' or 'Malysh' or whatever nicknames you use outside the arena."
"Ew. Gross." Ilya and Shane say at the same time, noses scrunched up in absurd disgust.
"How!?" Felix groans. "You guys use that outside. Why not in?"
"I can't ever imagine calling any teammate 'Baby'. That feels so weird." Shane shudders.
"My 'I love you's are the only affection any of my teammates are getting from me." Ilya looked green in the face. "Calling a teammate 'Malysh'? No. That is unnatural."
"You guys are MARRIED!" Nick shouts, hands covering his face as he makes a sound of despair.
"Yes, but in the arena, we are teammates." Ilya held his hands out, as if he were explaining some sort of physics equation.
"Teammates who just so happen to be married." Shane nods.
"So what? You guys just deliberately call each other 'Dude' and 'Bro' because you're in teammate mode?" Troy asks from behind Evan.
"Shut up, Barrett. I'm still not happy with you." Troy looked cowed but understood why, still. "But yes. I mean, I'm not sure about 'teammate mode' but it's… Yeah… it seems accurate enough." Shane shrugged.
"I don't even know how or why but it just feels right, you know?" Ilya adds. "How the fuck did we even start, Bro?" Ilya turned to Shane.
"I don't even fucking know, Dude." Shane replies.
The entire locker room groans.
"They're never gonna stop, are they?" Wyatt sobs. Matt gives him a comforting pat on the back.
"Mmmm… I loved how scary you were when you thought Troy was being an asshole to us." Ilya purred as he pinned Shane's arms above his head.
Shane gasps when Ilya dove in to suck marks into his neck.
"Of course. I wouldn't— Ah! —let him get away with insulting our marriage and insulting you."
"Hot." Ilya chuckles before bucking his hips.