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It was no question, that Ice Hockey is a pretty rough game. But, between all the scrimmages and shouldering, there is also a fierce team-spirit. Everyone is involved. You fight together, you win together, you lose together. In SMP its like that, but also more intense. They can be considered pretty protective of their members. One wrong look at one of them, tada, you have the whole team on you.
In-Game, everyone has to be able to take hits, be it a shove into the wall, a rough shouldering, sometimes a puck in the face or a lost bully. This doesn’t always end in a fist-to-fist-fight, but in mean words, glares and rough shoulders. If you do happen to fight, it’s your fight. You may experience sympathetic pats, a hand-up or a quick check-over, but the game has to go on. Unless its like, a major fight, there’s still a game to be played and won.
There is one exception. The Goalkeeper. In the case of SMP, Technoblade.
If someone tries to get the puck in the goal, they sometimes have to get close to the goalkeeper and push the puck in there. The players from the other team of course try to fight that. They defend their goal. But, if it happens, that you, even accidentally, punch the Goalkeeper, you will be removed forcefully from the goal.
Its an unspoken rule: Touch the Goalie and get your shit absolutely rocked
That’s why Wilbur sees red, when he sees that player hit Techno right in the face with his stick, trying to get a goal. He immediately launches himself forward, sprinting the short distance at full speed. The audience immediately began yelling and whistling at the attacking player angrily at that punch.
Protect the Goal and its Goalie.
In Hypixal, he was practically forced to do it. Maybe, if he proved himself strong enough, if he slammed hard enough, they would accept him. They didn’t, of course not, why would they. Not after he fought everyone he was ordered to fight, not after he cracked his ribs from slamming or being slammed into the wall. They always found reasons to humiliate him.
Not this time.
This Time, Wilbur doesn’t do it because he was forced to, this time, he does it because, honestly, how dare they? Punching the Goalie like that, punching Technoblade like that? So, he skates forward, fast as he possibly can. And fast he is. His teammates make room quickly, sensing his anger.
Wilbur manages to bring them both down. The Fall must have been harder for the other guy, at least Wilbur landed on top of him. Instead of punching the other back, and god does he want to, he simply rolls off of him and stands up, eyes hard and brows furrowed. He gets his punishment, gets sent to the box, along with the other player. The Crowd still complains, but not so much as when the hit happened.
The others have already checked up on Techno, who has a bit of pain, but nothing he can’t handle, so the game can restart.
The rest was pretty easy. Wilbur is good at his sport, he learned that much with SMP. They all are. He came to love it, too. Gliding over the Ice, all sharp turns and sprinting. Near the end of the second third, he notices a clearing in their beginning attack. So, he skates forward, putting himself in a good position.
Quackity notices that, too, and passes him the puck, skating forward. Wilbur himself reacts fluidly, sprinting forward to the enemies goal, while the other players try to get to him. No use. The Number three of SMP slams the puck into the goal and cheers are heard, louder than anything.
Wilbur throws his hands and stick in the air, as the speaker announces his goal. The Audience chants his name with the commentator, swinging their scarfs and singing. A wave of glee hits him like the cold air of the rink on a warm day. Fresh, cooling and oh so good.
It’s too much but also enough. Schlatt races over first, a short side hug and pat on the shoulder. Sapnap pats him on the helmet roughly, grinning with him. They celebrate their win, then continue to play as hard as possible.
SMP win, of course they do. With 4:2, it was all in all a pretty good game. Wilbur is fucking exhausted after it, even though he still feels left over energy thrumming in his veins. In the changing rooms, everyone is loud and happy. Hugs are given freely, Grins splitting their faces.
That all increases when Phil enters the room, he soon has the whole team on him, gleeful shouts of: “Coach!” “Phil!”, and more. Even George, normally so stoic, grins and stands behind Phil chin resting on his Coaches shoulder.
“Puppies, the lot of you.”, The Blonde just laughs, returning the hugs, a grin spreading his face too. With a short, but loud “Hey!”, the room silences, although the mood doesn’t vanish. Quackity hangs loosely in Sapnaps arms, while Wilbur leans into Technos side. “You all played really good out there today! Honestly, I’m really impressed. Not a single dirty fight from our side, you were focused and fought hard. Just as I know you. Let’s take tomorrows practice to relax a bit, yeah? We’ll still be at the rink, but, maybe we can play some games”, he smiles at every one of them, all with proud eyes.
The Hockey Players cheer, excited. They will never say no to some Games on the Ice. Wilbur grins tiredly, his face half hidden in Technos neck. Phils attention is dragged away by Sapnap, who talks to him about some movie hes seen recently, words flowing out his mouth.
While changing in some comfortable clothes, Schlatt suddenly comes to stand next to him. “Hey, wanna come over to mine for a bit? George and Techno are gonna be there too.”, he asks, eyes soft. “Mhm, of course. Can I spend the night? I’m really fucking exhausted.”, Wilbur smiles, pushing his hair out of his face.
“Yep. Wouldn’t let you go either way.”, Schlatt replies ruffling through Wilburs hair.
Just as they exited the building, a blob of blonde, curly hair appeared, wrapping its arms and legs around him. “Wilbur! You were so great! All of you were!”, Tommy yelled while hanging on him like a koala. The Taller just returned the hug, burying his face in the curls.
Soon though, Tommy let go, running to the other Members, hugging everyone. All while singing their praises.
Wilbur keeps watching his sunshine, until he notices the quiet presence of Techno next to him. “You were good today, Wil.”, he says, keeping his voice low.
“Thank you, you were too. Saved many pucks.”, Wilbur murmured, leaning against him.
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SMP are second on the grid. They strive to be first. So that is why today, playing against a really hard team, it’s so important for them to win this game.
The bell rang, announcing warm-ups. It was an astounding atmosphere. SMPs Fans are numerous and even though the two hour drive there, around 600 people from their fanclub are there, standing in a secluded area, waiting to cheer them on.
-
Of fucking course, they play bad. Like, really bad. Something is clearly off, though no one knows why exactly. Everything should be fine, but it isn’t. And Wilbur is angry. In the first third, they were one goal behind. In the second third even three goals!
During break to the third, Wilbur is steaming. He glares at everything, his fists balled. George eyes him warily, not wanting a fight to come out of it.
“Easy, Soot. Don’t set anything on fire.”, Schlatt comments, sitting down on a bench.
“You can shove you smart-assing right back up where it came from, idiot.”, Wilbur snaps, narrowing his eyes at his teammate.
“Wil! Calm down, man. No reason to snap like that.”, George drawls tiredly from his spot, earning another glare.
“We’re losing! Can’t you fucking see that!?”. Where Schlatts anger is hot, blazing fire, Wilburs’ is as cold as ice.
“Of course I can!”, Schlatt stands up, same as Wilbur. “I recommend we do something about it, instead of mouthing of!”.
Their fight heats up until Techno and George have to intervene to stop a fist-fight between the two. “Calm down, both of you!”, George snaps, drawing Schlatt back.
Techno drags Wilbur away in another room, holding him. He fights against the embrace, not wanting the comfort that is given to him, but Techno is stronger and doesn’t relent.
“Stop fightin’ me, Wil, c’mon.”, Techno pleads, strong armes holding his teammate against his body.
After maybe another minute of squirming and trying to punch, Wilbur surrenders and sinks into the hug. Anger has long since left him, leaving only the dark gaping hole of disappointment.
“Stop being so hard on yourself, Wil.”.
Phil brings them back for a new plan discussion. His new strategy will be mixing the defense lines up and playing with a clear net (playing without goalie, so 6 players on ice, mostly used at the end as a last resort) at the very end to push through.
Some miracle happens and instead of playing 1:4, they have a tie in the last five minutes. Phil gets Techno off the ice and sends in a sixth player. All or nothing now.
They score 5:4.
The other team does the same, having a clear net.
5:5
But, the referee call for video evidence, possible shove instead of turn with a skate.
They win.
Wilbur can’t believe it. He scored the winning goal and now, their fans are cheering, happy with their hard game. They chant their names, singing their songs. Its an unbelievable feeling, having that kind of support.
-
Back in the Bus, Schlatt has still not forgiven him entirely. Fair, thinks Wilbur. However, Wilbur is also fucking cold and in need of physical contact and the others are partying and drinking beer, so his only chance to get this, is to make up with Schlatt, who is sitting a bit away from the team.
Well, time to make things right!
Wilbur decides to just, sit next to him at first. It works. Schlatt frowns and glares, but says nothing.
Then, “Can we talk?”, his voice sounds small, compared to the last time he spoke with his teammate.
“About what?”, Schlatt eyes him wearily, unsure.
“Just, well, wanted to apologize. I was so worked up from this game, all the stress and uhm… I’m really fucking sorry I took it out on you, even though you did nothing, so, I’m sorry.”.
“You’re forgiven, Soot. Don’t pull that again, though. And, to be fair, I did provoke you.”.
Wil just shakes his head, a grin sneaking up on his face. “Soo, we’re good, right?”.
“Yep. Now come here and get your cuddles, Catbur.”, Schlatt chuckles, inviting Wil to lay against him, head pillowed on his shoulder, face turned into his neck.
Ende