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They’re waiting for Coach to set up the projector for video analysis; next to Shane, Ilya is on a laptop, checking the Irina foundation’s e-mail account. Some of the guys are talking, some are snacking, most are on their phones.
“This stupid fucking-” Coach curses under his breath, struggling with the tech.
“Lemme help you,” Bood offers, standing up. Shane feels sleepy, a bit like he used to in class sometimes. However, Holmberg’s sudden cackle serves to wake him right back up.
“Hey, Pointy,” he addresses LaPointe, “Why are you following porn stars on main?”
This immediately catches the attention of everyone.
“What?” LaPointe immediately blushes. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Holmberg turns his phone around with a smirk. “It’s on reddit.”
“Give me that-” LaPointe lunges for Holmberg’s phone; Ilya quickly pulls the laptop out of the way with a warning “Hey!”
LaPointe tries to catch him, but Holmberg leaps from his chair, holding his phone high and reading the post out loud so everyone can hear. “-following her from his main professional account. The transgender creator specializes in-”
All heads whip around. Shane quickly grabs the laptop because Ilya is already on his feet, reaching for LaPointe who, Shane thinks, is seconds away from punching Holmberg to stop him from reading more.
“-fetish content-”
Coach blows his whistle so loudly that everybody freezes. “Enough!” Kind as he is, he has the strict voice down to a tee.
Ilya has LaPointe by the scruff of his neck, pushing him back down into a chair, and then holds his hand out for Holmberg’s phone. Holmberg stares at his hand, the grin dropping from his face. “What?!”
“Phone, right now.”
“What, why-”
Ilya clicks his tongue sharply, and Holmberg immediately folds, handing it to him. “C’mon, it was a joke. He can like whatever he likes.”
LaPointe rolls his eyes at him, clearly embarrassed and upset. Shane knows this would just be a joke for the more mature players here, the ones who are confident enough. But Théo only just turned twenty-one, and Shane thinks he’s heard the boys talking about the fact that he’s never had a real girlfriend before. And Shane doesn’t know a lot about trans people, other than the experiences he’s heard about from Max, but what he does know is that people hate on them even more than they usually do on gay people. And that a player having a trans girlfriend would probably be equally as looked down upon in hockey circles as if he was dating another man.
“Like you don’t follow OnlyFans girls,” LaPointe spits.
“Not on main!” Holmberg argues.
“How else-”
“You make a secret account!” Troy, Shane and Ilya all say at the same time.
“Are we done? Because I am.” Coach stands with his hands on his hips, shaking his head.
Later, right before they leave, Holmberg runs after Shane and Ilya as they’re on the way to their car.
“Cap,” he calls, and comes to a halt behind them. “Can I have my phone back?”
Shane suppresses a laugh as Ilya levels his eyes on him.
“Please,” Holmberg adds sheepishly.
Ilya fishes for it in his pocket and holds it out to him. Holmberg grabs it, but Ilya doesn’t let go for a second. “Don’t do that again.”
“What?” Holmberg blushes, eyes going wide.
“Was shitty thing to do. I get it, chirping is fun. But some things, you don’t announce to the whole team.” Shane feels his heart soar, overcome with love for Ilya. LaPointe was visibly upset for the rest of the day, and it’s good to see Ilya call this out.
“I was just joking,” Holmberg defends himself, but he sounds guilty nevertheless.
“A joke is funny for everybody involved,” Shane says, repeating something his mother used to tell him when he was little himself.
“Embarrass other players from other teams,” Ilya adds, “Not your own. You are usually friends, yes?”
Holmberg nods, then ducks his head, looking truly miserable now. “I didn’t read the full post before I read it out loud.”
Both Shane and Ilya just stare disapprovingly at him for a moment, and he shrinks further into himself, which is impressive for a big guy like him.
“Remember, you always risk outing people with shit like that,” Shane says, actually realizing that he’s growing a bit angry about this whole ordeal himself.
“Sorry.” Holmberg has his eyes on the ground now.
“Apologize to him,” Ilya tells him. “Nobody will make fun of him, he doesn’t need to be embarrassed.” He said it with finality. “But you should apologize for doing shitty thing to your friend.”
“I will,” Holmberg mumbles, “Sorry, Cap.”
-
Later, Shane and Ilya are on opposite ends of the couch, decompressing on their phones in silence.
Shane is watching cooking reels on instagram, while Ilya is tapping away on his phone screen. Eventually, he snorts, tapping his foot against Shane’s. “I found LaPointe’s girl.”
Shane narrows his eyes at him, but can’t help but feel curious. “Really?”
“Yeah, wasn’t hard to find.” Ilya grins at Shane over the edge of his phone. Neither of them say anything for a second before Shane caves.
“Do I even want to see?”
Ilya shrugs. “Eh. Is not so bad.”
Shane narrows his eyes further, making Ilya laugh. “Really, I promise. Is like, latex and stuff.”
He half-turns his phone, and Shane is too nosy to decline. He sits up, and Ilya does the same, holding out his phone. He’s found a subreddit dedicated to the creator; as he scrolls, Shane gets an eyeful of body parts that do nothing for him clad in extremely tight and revealing clothing, some more body parts with toys inside them, and a few photos which are very clearly focused on highheel-clad feet.
“Wow,” he says flatly.
“Is not even that exciting,” Ilya says, sounding almost disappointed, “And she’s had all the,” he gestures to his own chest and lap, “operations and such. So he’s not jerking off to cock, either.”
Shane snorts. “Enough of us on the team who do that, already.”
“Did you have secret instagram?” Ilya asks curiously, and Shane is momentarily reminded of ‘What color? Is big?’, which makes him blush.
“No.”
“You’re lying.”
Shane blushes harder, pulling back. “Did you?”
“Pshah,” Ilya pulls up his shoulders, “What do you mean had. I still have.”
“Seriously?” Shane glares at him. He’s 90% sure Ilya is teasing him.
“Yeah.” Ilya wiggles his eyebrows. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
“I don’t even know if it’s still active!”
Ilya just keeps smirking at him until Shane squirms in his seat.
“Okay, but you go first.”
Ilya’s smirk turns into a self-satisfied grin. He swipes across his phone screen a few times, then tosses his phone to Shane, who catches it in the air. “Knock yourself out.”
Shane chews on his bottom lip. There’s something exhilaratingly hot bubbling up under his skin. He unlocks his own phone, opens Instagram, changes accounts.
Before he can change his mind, he tosses Ilya his phone.
“Yes,” Ilya says triumphantly under his breath, and it makes Shane laugh and roll his eyes.
Then, he quickly picks up Ilya’s phone, scrolling.
There’s a pretty equal mix of men and women on the timeline, and tons of very obvious thirst traps: shirtless, oiled up guys holding dogs, women in bikinis doing tiktok dances, their boobs bouncing all over.
“Wow, cute.” Ilya turns Shane’s phone around; he’s got a video of a male model Shane followed on his finsta pulled up. “He’s hot.”
“He was on a photoshoot with me ages ago,” Shane admits.
Ilya’s eyes widen. “Really? Did you fuck him?”
“Of course not.”
“Ugh, lame.”
“Fuck off,” Shane grins. Ilya blows him a kiss, and goes back to scrolling. So does Shane. A moment later, Ilya suddenly gasps.
“Scott Hunter?!”
Oh. “I forgot about that.” Shane’s ears grow hot.
“Scott Hunter?!” Ilya repeats, “You thirst-followed Scott Hunter.”
“You said it yourself, he’s hot! I followed him when I was like… twenty! And he used to post a ton of shirtless pictures!”
“Scott Hunter.” Ilya shakes his head in playful disapproval. “I cannot believe you have a thing for senior citizens.”
“He has a sixpack!” Shane is laughing now.
Ilya hums heavily. “Yes. Oldest sixpack alive. Is like a fossil.”
“Shut up.” Shane lightly kicks Ilya’s ankle, still laughing. “You only have like, porn stars on yours.”
“Yes? That’s the purpose of it.” Ilya gestures to his phone in Shane’s hands.
Shane keeps scrolling. “He looks like me.” He turns the screen around, showing Ilya the video. In it, a half-asian man with glasses and a, Shane has to admit, pretty good body is lip-synching to some song in his bed, shirtless.
“Well, yeah. I needed my fix,” Ilya admits with a sheepish little shrug. “But wasn’t the same.”
“Aww.” Shane smiles at him, feeling oddly touched.
“No cheap copies did it for me the way you do.”
Shane hoists himself up, tossing the phone aside, and plants himself on top of Ilya, kissing him. Ilya kisses him back, wrapping his arms around Shane, and Shane can feel him smile against his lips. They make out for a little bit, until Shane feels hot all over. Just when he wants to suggest they move to the bedroom, Ilya breaks their kiss, staring up at him seriously.
“Okay, I need to know, though. Did you ever jerk off to Scott Hunter?”
Shane groans, and hides his face in Ilya’s shoulder.
-
The next day at practice, Holmberg and LaPointe seem to have made up. At least they’re talking normally together on the ice.
Shane watches as Ilya skates up to them. He claps LaPointe on the shoulder briefly. “You okay?”
LaPointe nods, his cheeks pinkening. “Yeah, thanks. Had to turn off my insta comments, but otherwise it’s okay. Caught it early because of the reddit post.”
“It’ll pass,” Ilya promises him.
“I asked Harris to help me set up a secret account,” LaPointe admits sheepishly. Shane snorts, ducking his head. These kids really do tell them everything.
“Yes, good,” Ilya claps his shoulder again, then lets go, slowly skating backwards. “I looked her up. She’s pretty.”
“Oh.” LaPointe’s pink cheeks turn deeply red now.
“I have a friend who can maybe introduce you to-”
“No, thank you!” LaPointe yelps, quickly turning away while Holmberg snickers behind him. “Why not, dude? You could use a girlfriend.”
When Ilya passes him, Shane gives him a little headshake and a grin. Ilya returns the grin with a wink, and skates away.