Chapter Text
Another Centaurs practice rolled past without incident. The men corralled in the locker room in various states of undress catching up since last practice, no one in any real hurry to leave. They discussed their recent yoga excursion with enthusiasm, to Shane’s delight.
“I gotta hand it to you, Hollzy, you were right. Even Lisa noticed I was more relaxed that day.” Said Wyatt. The Centaurs responded with a chorus of agreement. “Speaking of which, who’s next?”
“Shit, yeah I guess we need to pick the next victim.” Replied Bood.
“I’ll text Harris once we’re all decent.” Troy added.
The men took a few more moments to dress before Troy sent a quick text to Harris. A few moments later, Harris came into the locker room wearing a smile. “Hey guys!” he exclaimed.
“Harris.” Ilya greeted, curtly. Shane rolled his eyes at his husband. He knew Ilya was still holding a grudge toward Harris that the picture he’d posted on the Centaurs’ Instagram account of Ilya sitting on the grass, legs splayed, with a prominent grass stain on his chin, had gone semi-viral. The caption had read “Gravity-1, Centaurs Stanley Cup-winning captain-0”. Shane huffed a laugh remembering Ilya seeing the post and launching into a rant about how he’s got several points on gravity from a lifetime of playing ice hockey, thank you very much.
“Oh, come on Ilya, you can’t stay mad forever. You love me!” Ilya gave Harris a side eye.
“…Maybe. I won’t be mad forever but at least a few more months.”
“Better strap in, Harris. Last year I accidentally broke his favorite coffee mug, and I still haven’t lived it down.” Shane said.
“It had little paw prints on it, Shane!” Ilya bellowed.
“Wow. That Russian resentment runs deep, huh?” Harris asked.
“I don’t think its because he’s Russian. I think he’s just dramatic.” Added Shane.
“Hello? Am I invisible? Is this why you talk about me like I’m not here?” Ilya waved a hand in front of Shane’s face, doing nothing to beat the dramatic allegations.
“Anywho. I hear we’re ready to choose the next outing.” Harris announced. Bood pointed at Shane and Ilya to his right, blocking his finger with his other hand. “Too soon, Harris, too soon.” He said.
Ilya cackled at the joke. Shane rolled his eyes again, chucking. He’d come a long way in the last couple of years since the FanMail incident. He was glad that he and the team could make light of it now, something that he never thought he’d experience when it first happened. Harris was quick to apologize. Shane and Ilya both assured him that they took no offense and thought it was funny.
“Well…” Harris said awkwardly, “Shane, I guess you should draw since you went last.” Shane walked over to Harris and reached his hand in the jar, plucking out a name and reading it to the room, “Its Bood.”
“HELL YEAH!” Bood yelled, clapping his hands together. The rest of the team applauded sarcastically.
“Okay, Zane. Let us know when you decide what your bonding activity will be and we’ll plan a day.” Said Harris.
“Oh, I already know. We’re having a barbeque, baby.”
“Bood, you grill for us literally every week. I think I speak for all when I say we love it, but maybe we do something that doesn’t require you to put so much effort in, yes?” Ilya said.
“Oh, no.” Bood replied, a devious grin creeping up his face, “No no no, boys. I will be doing no barbequing. YOU idiots will be doing the barbequing. A contest. And I will judge.”
The team passed bewildered looks back and forth between each other. Luca’s face went pale like he’d seen a ghost while Troy just shook his head. “Bood, I’ve literally never cooked once in my life.” He spoke.
“Well, better find a recipe then. I’ll give you a freebie hint. You have to actually heat the food to make it edible.” Troy shot him a middle finger.
“Is…is this mandatory?” Luca asked.
“No, of course not, Luca.” Replied Harris.
Bood shot him an exaggerated frown, “But you will break my heart, Haas.”
Harris and the team discussed dates and landed on the weekend after next. The weather was supposed to be clear, although a bit chilly, and the men were free of plans. They also talked about the absurd amount of meat that would come from an entire team participating, so they decided to make it a team competition. They landed on the idea of doing it in pairs, two men to a team. Once it was all established, Harris left the locker room waving cheerful goodbyes to the team. The chattering continued while they packed their things and made for the door. Shane and Ilya were of the first getting ready to head out when Ilya stopped Shane.
“You go ahead to car, I’ll be out in just a few, okay sweetheart?”
“Sure, sounds good. You’re driving though.”
Shane took Ilya’s bag from him with quick kiss and headed for the car. A few moments later, Ilya arrived and settled into the driver’s seat. They pulled out of the parking lot in the direction of their home. It was a quiet drive for a few moments before Shane broke the silence when they were stopped at a red light.
“This is gonna be quite an experience, huh?”
“Yeah..quite.” Ilya replied, tapping the steering wheel absently with his thumbs and not taking his eyes off the bumper in front of them. Shane noticed his tension.
“Are you okay?” He asked.
“Mm, just sore from practice, moya Lyubov.”
“Alright…so, um, got any ideas for what we can make for this thing?”
“Not really.” Shane began to tense himself, sensing discomfort from Ilya. He tried again.
“You sure you’re good? You seem…I don’t know, stressed.”
“I am good, sweetheart.”
“Okay…”
The drive passed quickly after that. Shane was still mildly concerned about Ilya’s demeanor but didn’t press. They pulled into their garage and Ilya shut off the car. Shane opened the door and started to get out when he noticed Ilya sitting still, hands still on the steering wheel, head pointed down.
“Okay Ilya, spill it.”
“Nothing, Shane! Just…are you sure you wanna be my partner? I mean…several other teammates. Might be good to pair with a rookie for team…you know…cohesion.” Ilya cut his eyes to Shane without moving his head.
Shane narrowed his eyes. He was catching on quickly. Ilya’s demeanor had finally clicked when he paired it with Ilya’s absence as they were leaving and his sudden interest in veteran Shane pairing with a rookie for team cohesion. Ilya wasn’t feeling stressed. He wasn’t feeling sad. The fucker was feeling…guilty.
“Wait..”
“Shane, I-“
“Wait a damn minute. You don’t wanna be my partner for this contest, do you?”
“No that’s not what-“
“I can’t believe this!”
“Dykstra and I-“
“Dykstra? Fucking Dykstra?” Shane was fuming. Evan Dykstra was a wonderful person, and Shane considered himself lucky to play alongside him, even luckier to call him a friend. But Dykstra? What did he know about barbeque? Why was his husband so keen to toss him aside to play master chef with Evan fucking Dykstra? Shane exited the car, slamming the door and stomping into the house without grabbing his bag. Ilya was quick on his heels.
“Shane, my love, just let me explain, okay?” He pleaded. Shane stopped and turned on his heels so quickly that Ilya had almost crashed into him.
“Go ahead, Ilya. Explain to me why you chose Dykstra over me.”
“Because…” Ilya hesitated. Shane crossed his arms in front of him and tapped his foot impatiently.
“I’m waiting.” Ilya raised his thumb to his mouth and began chewing on the nail. Shane huffed and turned around to walk away.
“Because I want to win, okay? And I’m not going to do that if I feed Bood bird food!” He blurted out. Shane stopped again and began to turn, slower this time. Ilya’s shoulders hunched in response.
“Bird food? I’m not gonna feed him bird food, Ilya!”
“You say that, but you say to me ‘oh Ilya its not bird food, oh Ilya you will love it’ and then feed me noodles made of zucchini and brownies with black beans in them!” Shane’s jaw went slack as Ilya continued, “I love you, moya Lyubov, but Dykstra is…he’s…”
“He’s what?”
“I don’t know, he’s like, a wilderness guy. He likes hunting and fishing. No one on the team has any real experience with barbequing except Bood so he’s my best shot if I want to win. I’m sorry!” Shane shook his head laughing.
“Okay. Okay, Ilya. Fine. Go ahead and work with Dykstra.” He said in a voice that was surprisingly calm.
“You…you’re okay with that?” Ilya asked, feeling like he was navigating a minefield. Shane put on his media smile, flashing pearl-white teeth at Ilya and pulling his shoulders back. He walked up to Ilya, close enough that Ilya could smell Shane’s after-practice shower gel. He gulped. Shane placed a hand on his cheek, cupping his jaw softly.
“Of course, baby. I want you to do what makes you happy.” Ilya let out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding, feeling like he was in the clear. Then, Shane’s expression changed almost imperceptivity. Ilya would have missed it if he hadn’t spent over a decade memorizing Shane’s face. His eyes narrowed slightly as his fake smile dropped half a degree.
“Besides, its been almost two years since we’ve technically been rivals.” Shane said, before dropping his expression ever further into a determined scowl “I’ve been itching to beat your ass at something.”
Ilya’s eyes widened and he swallowed hard. He knew, probably better than anyone, how dangerous it could get staring down the barrel that was a Hollander competitive streak. He felt a heavy weight blooming in his chest that was caused by equal parts apprehension and drive. The rivalry was back on.
The next day, the Centaurs are at practice doing warm-up stretches. Shane has mostly calmed down, but Ilya can tell he’s still upset over being passed up for Dykstra. Shane Hollander had always been an expert at hiding his emotions from the world, but Ilya wasn’t the world. He could tell. He could tell in the way Shane set his coffee mug down a little too hard this morning. He could tell in the way Shane’s lips tightened slightly when talking to him. He could tell now, in the way that Shane was half-way across the ice from him, doing his stretches next to Luca instead of his husband. He watched from his position beside Dillon and Hayes as Shane and Luca made idle conversation that he couldn’t hear.
“Have you and Roz started planning what you’re gonna make for the contest yet?” Luca asked Shane. Ilya noticed Shane doing the tight-lipped thing again.
“Actually, uh, we aren’t gonna be partners for the thing.” Shane replied. Luca looked slightly bewildered.
“What? Really? Why not?”
“Just…we just wanted to work separately, I guess.” Shane lied.
“Oh…well…I’m sure whoever you’re partnered with feels lucky.” Luca said with a blush.
“I actually don’t have a partner yet. I was gonna try to find someone after practice today.”
“Really?” Luca replied, enthusiastically. “Do you…would you wanna…I mean, I don’t know anything about barbequing. I’m pretty nervous about it actually. This isn’t really my thing, but…would you…”
“Luca do you wanna be my partner?”
“Oh, yeah for sure. That’d be great. I don’t know if we’ll win though. I don’t…I don’t really have any idea what I’m doing.” Shane was looking determined again. He’d hoped for this and was planning to approach Luca had Luca not approached him first. He knew Luca wasn’t into this. He knew Luca would be happy to sit back and let Shane take the lead on this little project. After being spurned by Ilya, Shane had thought about his best chances at winning. He’d decided to treat this the same way he treated group assignments back in school- by purposefully picking someone that would let him handle everything himself.
“Actually, Luca,” he started, “I know this isn’t something you’re really excited about. I was thinking maybe I could take the lead and you could be, like, my assistant?”
“Oh. So like, bringing ingredients and prepping and stuff?”
“Sure, yeah. No pressure. I’m kind of particular if you haven’t noticed.” They laughed. Of course he’d noticed. Shane saying he was particular was like Ilya saying he liked fast cars and dumb tattoos. “That way, the heat is off you but you can still participate and not break Bood’s heart.”
“That sound awesome, actually. Just let me know what you need from me but I’ll let you lead.” So, it was settled.