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The game that the Ottawa Centaurs had been anticipating all season had finally arrived. Some players were excited to avenge their new teammate while others were more apprehensive about what was about to go down on the ice. Though the Montreal Metros were never a particularly physical team, it would be naive for any member of the Centaurs to think that they would be playing normally in the first match against them after Ottawa poached their former captain.
“Shane, how do you feel?” Ilya had been checking on his husband throughout the day but wanted to get a pulse check away from the rest of the team before they were expected to take the ice.
“Ready for what’s coming, I guess. I don’t know.” Shane had taken to the Centaurs quite quickly once he had joined at the beginning of the season. Both his friendships with the guys and their team chemistry on ice had made it clear that they were shaping up to be the team to beat this year.
Though Shane wasn’t a stranger to being at the helm of a strong team, this was the first time he would ever face off against his former teammates and the franchise that he had previously devoted his entire career to. After many of them reacted poorly to the public outing of his relationship and subsequent accidental fall in last season’s game against the Centaurs, he was really only on good terms with his former closest friends on the team, Hayden and J.J.. The remaining members of the Metros regarded him with smug indifference or deep betrayal, and he was still trying to figure out which end of the spectrum was more hurtful.
Even though the game was taking place in Montreal, the stands were filled with an overwhelming amount of Centaurs fans who were thrilled to see Shane playing for his hometown team, with many of them proudly donning his name across their red and black jerseys. Their presence was reassuring in a sea of blue jerseys who had been booing the Centaurs (specifically Shane) since they had started warmups.
The cutthroat hockey player in Shane was ready to wreak havoc on Montreal and make them sorry for ever taking him for granted or doubting his loyalty, but the man underneath the gear was nervous about how his new teammates would act on his behalf. He was ready for Montreal to play dirty, but that didn’t mean he wanted any of the Centaurs to get hurt on his behalf while they were busy defending him, especially his husband.
“Hey, look at me,” Ilya’s gloved hand quickly nudged Shane’s chin so he was forced to meet his eyes. “You get out there and you remind them exactly who Shane Hollander is, and you don’t worry about me or the rest of the team. We will be fine, I promise.”
“I know, just please don’t do anything stupid,” Shane pleaded, “No matter what they say or do I don’t need you to be a knight in shining armor okay?”
“Da. I will not do anything stupid, I promise.” Ilya knocked his helmet against Shane’s as he stepped one foot on the ice. “Unless they do something stupid first,” he finished with a wink as he smirked and took off to the center of the ice for the face-off, leaving Shane to roll his eyes.
****
By the end of the second period, both teams were looking significantly worse for wear and had each only managed to score one goal. Montreal’s players had predictably resulted to ugly hits and brutal taunting. Though the Centaurs had intended on focusing on skill and not stooping down to their level, the refs seemed to also hold a grudge against Hollander and were letting a significant number of nasty moves go unchecked.
Holmberg, LaPointe, and Young had each spent some time in the box after meeting the Metros with some equally rough hits but they seemed to be enjoying the opportunity to behave a bit recklessly. Though Coach Wiebe had rolled his eyes when they each rejoined the bench, they had yet to receive a stern talking-to, which might as well have been an endorsement to fight fire with fire.
Though the whole team was the target of Montreal’s onslaught, it was clear that they were not going to make their disdain for Hollander go unnoticed. While he might’ve hoped that they approached this game with a level of respect for their former captain, all of that hope was lost when he took the ice and was immediately decked by a player who he had helped mentor during his rookie season just two years prior. The next two periods followed with equal amounts of illegal hits and particularly rude chirps from many of his former teammates.
“This is so fucked,” Troy Barrett was the first to break the silence in the Centaur’s locker room after Wiebe’s departure following his traditional third period pep talk.
“Seriously,” Dykstra added, “I’m all for inclusivity in sports but that doesn’t include blind fucking refs.”
“Are you okay Hollzy?” Wyatt Hayes asked, “They’re really ganging up on you out there.”
“I’m fine,” Shane responded, “I knew they were going to play dirty but with the refs not calling anything it’s been harder to score than I wanted.”
Chouinard huffed, “More like impossible. I don’t know how Roz hasn’t killed one of them yet.”
At that comment, all eyes in the locker room darted to Ilya, who had been sitting on a bench next to Shane and restlessly jostling his leg while looking at the floor. He took a long and hard look at Shane, clapped his hands loudly, and made his way to the center of the locker room.
“Okay listen up,” the captain who typically went for hyping his team up with bets and lighthearted chirps was eerily serious. “What the other team is doing on the ice is a disgrace. My whole career, Montreal has been a worthy rival because of good game play and a star player who is best in the league. Now they don’t have their star player and they are playing like angry little babies who didn’t get their way,” Shane did not permit his face to move at this admission, but he felt a faint blush heat his cheeks as Ilya continued.
“We will go out there and we will win this game because we have their star player and we have so many things they do not have anymore. We have skill, we have finesse, we have heart. They have nothing special now, let’s make them sorry.” The end of his brief speech was met with cheers from all the guys and a newfound energy that had been lost after two periods of rough beatings.
****
Ilya’s words had lit a fire under their asses, since the Centaurs were unleashing some of their best plays on the Metros in the last period of the game. After an assist from Rozanov, Barrett was able to get another goal with a slapshot to the top right corner of the net. Minutes later, Luca Haas managed to sink the puck in the Metros’ net with a quick flick of his backhand. With only two minutes remaining in the period, the Centaurs were up 3-1 with no signs of slowing down.
Though they had been taking shifts at center throughout the game, Wiebe signaled for Ilya and Shane to join the ice together for a power play after Schenider hit Tanner Dillon particularly hard and was the first Metros player to be sent to the penalty box.
Ilya and Shane made eye contact through the visors on their helmets and knew without words exactly what play they were going to run. Rozanov passed the puck to Barrett as he shot up the right side of the ice and managed to easily outmaneuver the Metros’ rookie defender that was standing in his way. He flicked the puck to the left side goal post where Boodram was waiting to tap it towards the center of the ice just in time for Hollander to viciously slap it into the goal.
The celebration light whizzed on right as the period ended to signify their 4-1 win. The Centaurs on the ice all piled on Shane, throwing their arms around him and slapping his helmet.
“C’mon Hollzy!” Boodram yelled in his ear.
“That was an absolute beauty,” Troy cried with glee.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Boomed Dykstra, who they could hear from the D-line down the ice.
“Yes Hollander!” Ilya cheered while shaking his shoulders back and forth after plopping a kiss onto his helmet with an exaggerated “Mwah.”
Shane was soaking in the goal and the praise from his teammates when the Metros rookie defender skated by and spat out “Bunch of fuckin’ f*****s” towards their celebrations.
Ilya’s playful grip on Shane’s shoulders turned into a death grip as he zeroed in on the player like a predator stalking his prey. Before he could drop his gloves or Shane could even attempt to stop him from starting a fight, Troy Barrett was flying from the huddle and completely laid out the kid with a left hook to the side of his jaw.
“What the fuck did you just say?” Troy yelled while leaning over him.
Before he could even begin to come up with a response, Zane Boodram socked him on the right side too, leaving him to crumple to the ground and start rolling around in pain.
“That’s what I thought,” Zane finished.
Rozanov skated over then, and it seemed like everyone waited with baited breath to see what he would do to lay the final blow. He smiled down at the kid who was now moaning pathetically and put an arm around both Barrett and Boodram to skate back to their bench.
“Uh oh, I think you might need ice for that. C’mon boys!”
****
After celebrating with the team and showering, Shane and Ilya were finally on the bus to go home after their victory. Most of the Centaurs had settled down by then and were either on their phones or listening to music and trying to get a nap in.
Shane’s eyes flickered across the aisle to his surrounding teammates, where he could see Troy getting his knuckles iced by his boyfriend and the team’s Director of Communication, Harris. While his swollen hand was being tended to, Troy wrapped his other arm around Harris’s shoulders and laid his temple to rest on the top of his head.
Seeing the sweet gesture made Shane grab Ilya’s hand and squeeze it, getting the attention of his husband. Ilya laced their fingers together and brought Shane’s hand up to his mouth, dropping a brief kiss on his ring finger before dropping their intertwined hands onto Shane’s left thigh.
“Hi,” Ilya said while looking down at Shane with a fond look.
“Hi,” Shane responded. He paused before letting out a brief sigh and continuing. “I know it’s messed up since that asshole had it coming to him, but I kinda feel bad for the kid. Is that bad?”
“No, is not bad,” Ilya answered, “But like you said he had it coming. What is the saying? We all get our bell rung eventually?” He added with a smirk and a knowing gleam in his eye.
“You’re such an asshole,” Shane replied while trying hard to suppress the smile that was overtaking his lips. “That was nice of Bood and Barrett though, they really didn’t have to do that for me.”
“See, was not completely for you though moya lyubov,” Ilya started with a shrug, “The league is changing and we are a good team who does not tolerate that anymore. Towards you or anyone else. It is time you get used to a team who really has your back.”
“I guess you’re right,” Shane agreed, “Thanks for not doing anything stupid out there.”
Ilya chuckled, “Please, they are idiots if they think they could do anything to make me risk injury and get in the way of me getting my husband his fourth MLH trophy this season.”
Shane rolled his eyes affectionately, “You’re sweet, but I think you should put that effort into helping me get MY husband his second MLH trophy instead, he could use the extra help.”
Ilya gasped lightheartedly and uncurled their hands to slap Shane’s thigh, “Oh it’s on, Hollander.”
****