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It is quiet on the bus. Suspiciously so.
“Something is off.”
“Hm?” Shane looks up from his iPad, which he is currently watching highlights from Montreal’s last few games on. Ilya knows he’s still anxious about playing the Voyageurs, so he’s trying to be extra-prepared.
“Listen.”
Shane furrows his brows, pops out one of his earbuds and listens. “What?”
“It’s too quiet on the bus.” Ilya cranes his neck to look towards the seats in the back where the kids are piled up. All he can see is long legs sticking into the middle walkway.
“Maybe they’re asleep?” Shane looks at Ilya like he’s lost his mind. “Go look if you’re not sure.”
“I will.” Ilya stands, and makes his way to the back.
He doesn’t know what he expects; maybe a bunch of hungover boys.
Instead, he finds them all sprawled out in their seats, each one of them with their noses buried in a book. He’s so shocked that he stops dead in his tracks for a second.
“What the fuck is going on here? Baby book club?” They lower their books, glancing up at him. “Wow, Holmberg, I didn’t know you could read.”
Holmberg rolls his eyes at him. “Ha-ha.”
“I love reading,” Luca says, all chipper. The book he’s holding is the thickest one of the bunch, which isn’t exactly surprising.
“Pointy finally has a girlfriend,” Young explains cheerfully, and LaPointe immediately blushes, “but she’s one of those BookTok girlies? Like, she makes videos where she talks about the books she reads. And he told her he loves to read, too, and now she keeps wanting to talk to him about books.” He has a shit-eating grin on his face.
Ilya blinks at them very, very slowly. It’s kind of cute, if he’s honest. “And you are all dating the same girl? Or why are you all reading books now?”
“No!” LaPointe says quickly, “I can’t read all the books she likes by myself. So I got them to read some of them, and they can explain the plot to me, and then I can talk to her like I read the book.” He’s obviously very proud of himself for figuring that out.
“Why not use google?”
“Because that’s not authentic.” Bolduc clicks the -c at the end of the word. The others nod in agreement.
“It’s kind of fun.” Nick (who’s not really a part of their kids’ group because he literally has his own children and a wife, but occasionally participates in their shenanigans) holds up the book he’s reading. It’s titled ‘Project Hail Mary’. “I haven’t read any books other than the bible in a while, but this is rad.” Ilya’s not about to unpack that one.
“I’m dyslexic, so I got the shortest one!” Young holds up his book. It’s maybe only a hundred and fifty pages, titled “All Systems Red”.
“You could listen to the audiobook,” Ilya tells him, and his face lights up.
“Fuck, yeah! That’s such a good idea, Roz.” He immediately gets out his phone. “That’s why you’re the captain!”
Ilya considers the situation. They are the weirdest bunch he’s ever met, but at the same time, this is very endearing. He loves that they are being kind to each other, helping each other out.
He stares at LaPointe, who does at least look slightly sheepish.
“Is she worth it?” Ilya asks him. “Pretty?”
LaPointe ducks his head with a smile. “She’s awesome.”
“She’s way too smart for you,” Holmberg teases him. To Ilya, he says, “She goes to the University of Toronto.”
“And which university does your imaginary girlfriend go to?” Ilya asks him to knock him down a peg. Holmberg blushes while the others laugh.
“Who goes to what university?” Shane appears behind Ilya, clearly curious now.
“LaPointe has a smart girlfriend who reads books, and now all of these chucklefucks-” A fun new word Ilya has learned, “are reading, too.”
“Wow,” Shane says, raising his brows, looking amused. “Why all of them?”
The kids launch into the same spiel as before, explaining their foolproof plan. Shane listens with a grin. When they’re done, he asks, “So, if you’re on a date with her, and she asks you how you liked-” He ducks his head to look at the title of the book Luca is holding, “‘The Fifth Season’, you’re gonna run to the bathroom and text Luca?”
LaPointe looks like Shane has just uncovered a fatal flaw in his plan. “...no.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
“We tell him the plot of the book and what we thought about it, of course,” Luca explains, “And he just has to memorize that.”
Shane and Ilya share a look; Ilya grins at him. These are their fucking idiot kids.
“Wow,” Shane repeats, and Ilya thinks he’s starting to sound like David. “Well. Reading is fun, so. Good for you all.”
“You only read hockey books.” Ilya rolls his eyes. “Is boring.”
“Stacey told me about hockey romance books,” LaPointe supplies eagerly, “Apparently women love them. And there’s lots of sex in them.”
Shane blushes. “I don’t read those.”
“Maybe you should, sounds interesting,” Ilya tells him. Shane shoots him a glare.
It’s grown quiet again, and Ilya realizes the guys have all gone back to reading their books. He still can’t quite believe this is happening. He nudges Shane. “C’mon, our children are busy.” Shane scoffs, but turns to walk them back to their seats.
Once they’ve sat back down, Ilya just shakes his head with a little laugh. Shane gives him a smirk. “Can’t believe it?”
“The only thing I did at that age was get laid, or try to get laid,” Ilya says, and Shane scrunches up his nose adorably.
“I think they use the apps to get laid way more than we did,” Shane shrugs. “Back in our days, you had to go to the club to pick up.”
“Why are you talking like you know anything about picking up?”
“I picked up you, didn’t I?”
Ilya reaches over and squeezes Shane’s knee to make him flinch and laugh in lieu of a reply.
-
Montreal has a new rookie. He’s the same age as Bolduc, just nineteen, and if you trust the media, he is the second coming of Christ.
It reminds Shane of the way people used to talk about him and Ilya.
His name is Danielsson, he is half-swedish, with blond hair and a weasley little face. Everything Shane has seen from him this season so far has been outstanding, unfortunately. He scored his first goal during his first game, and is well on the way to reaching Ilya’s fifty-goal-rookie season.
Shane also knows he is apparently insufferable, if Hayden is to trust. There have been many-a texts about the ‘Swedish princess’ recently. Hayden has described him as arrogant, cocky and huffy. ‘He expects the whole team to revolve around him’, he said.
Shane immediately sees it when they’re on the ice.
Danielsson is good. He’s fast, and an incredible stick-handler, and clearly very talented. But Shane notices it: the little missed passes, the ‘this is my game’ attitude.
Still, Montreal scores against them, once, twice. Finally, Ilya converts one of Shane’s passes into a goal, and then Luca gets another one. But the game is hard and fast, and Shane can feel his lungs burn from the exhaustion. And he can see Ilya is feeling the same, judging by the red splotches on his cheeks.
They are next to each other, briefly catching their breath, when Danielsson skates by, looking like a spring chicken. “Out of breath, oldies?”
Ilya doesn’t hesitate, turning to his husband. “Shane, the fetus is trying to talk to us I think.”
“Your era is about to be over.” Wow, he is cocky. “Maybe think about retiring, settling down, raising some kids.” He skates away, not waiting for an answer.
Shane is so caught off-guard by the chirp that all he can do is look at Ilya- Ilya, who is fighting a grin. “I think we have just been Scott Hunter’d.”
“Wanna win the cup and then kiss at center ice?” Shane gives him a smirk, and Ilya wiggles his eyebrows.
Across the ice, Shane briefly catches Hayden’s eyes. His lips are tightly pressed together, and Shane can tell he's vaguely annoyed. Hayden hasn't been completely happy at Montreal ever since Shane left, and Shane knows it. He also knows Hayden doesn't want to uproot Jackie and the kids to move. He wishes Hayden could join them in Ottawa.
The game continues.
Shane puts everything he has into it, and so does Ilya. Maybe Danielsson’s little chirp has riled them up more than they both want to admit.
Playing with Ilya has always been like breathing. It's like Ilya is an extension of Shane’s own body, with different features. Wherever Shane needs him, Ilya is there, filling every gap, taking every pass, understanding each one of Shane’s ideas immediately. Playing with Ilya means reaching a flow state.
Montreal becomes a blur as they race across the ice and Shane’s entire world zeroes in on his husband.
His husband, who converts Shane’s pass into another goal, scooping the puck skillfully into the net, with so much elegance that Shane feels a surge of attraction for him, especially when Ilya looks back at him over his shoulder with a grin that says, I knew we’d have this. And Shane can see it in his face: the memory of nineteen-year-old Ilya, cocky, sexy, acting like he’s the center of the world. Shane runs into him, cheering, and Ilya wraps his arms around him.
“That was so hot,” Shane tells him in Russian.
Ilya smirks, and says, also in Russian: “I am in my DILF era.”
Shane snorts before skating away.
Danielsson is a pain for their defense line.
Shane can also see that he refuses to pass when he should have, when Hayden is right there. And then, suddenly, Bolduc checks him against the boards, hard and fast, coming out of nowhere, and Shane can’t help the grin spreading on his face. Good job. Danielsson loses the puck, naturally, and then the game’s suddenly over, 3-2 in the Centaurs’ favor.
Shane gets ready to celebrate with his teammates, skating towards Troy and Ilya, who is already reaching out for him, when a commotion down the rink catches everybody’s attention.
Danielsson has gotten up from the ice, and is throwing a fit. A few of his own older teammates are surrounding him already, holding him back, but he’s screaming bloody murder and brandishing his stick at Bolduc, who looks more confused than anything else, one hand up like What the fuck are you on about?, the other one cupping his jaw where, Shane assumes, Danielsson just punched him.
“Little idiot,” Ilya says under his breath, shaking his head, and skating off. The referees are involved already, trying to calm the young forward down.
“What is he even doing?” Luca asks by Shane’s side, squinting.
“He’s pissed that the other team didn’t do what he wanted,” Bood replies; he’s leaning on his stick and watching with amusement in his eyes as Danielsson is hauled off the ice.
“Stupid,” Luca says with disdain, and Shane is oddly proud of him. None of their rookies would behave like that.
Ilya returns with Bolduc, a hand on his shoulder. Bolduc has a confused grin on his face, lifting his hands as he nears them, shaking his head. “The fuck?”
“Is what happens when nobody ever tells a child that they are not the center of the universe,” Ilya deadpans. “Let’s fucking celebrate now.”
And they do.
When they line up to shake the Voyageurs’ hands, Shane feels a brief pang of nerves. It’s still there, yes, but it’s much smaller now than it used to be. He can manage, can look them in the eyes, shake their hands, endure their pissed-off faces and think, you did this to yourselves.
Now that JJ has been traded to Dallas, the only person Shane really cares for on his former team is Hayden. Hayden, who looks like he’s fuming when they clasp hands, squeezing firmly. Shane claps him on the shoulder, and Hayden gives the briefest little headshake, lips tight, and Shane knows this means he’s deeply pissed at his own team.
Shane feels for him, but can’t relate.
-
“Woah!”
A week later, in the locker room after practice, Young holds out his phone for everyone to see. “They busted Danielsson.”
A chorus of “What?!” fills the room immediately.
“For PEDs!” Young is immediately crowded by half the team, while others pull out their own phones.
“Holy shit”, Dykstra says, shaking his head as he reads the article on Young’s phone. “The dumbest thing you can do.”
“Explains the emotional outburst,” Chouinard supplies with a shrug.
“That’s so stupid.” Bolduc almost sounds frustrated. “He’s a good player, I played with him in Junior league. He doesn’t need PEDs.”
“Sometimes the pressure gets too high for these overachievers, and they think they need to add some chemicals in the mix to keep up with the expectations,” Bood explains.
“Is stupid as fuck,” Ilya snorts. He gives Shane a look, which Shane returns with a headshake.
“Sounds like our era will continue for a little while longer.”
Ilya laughs. “Aw, a shame. I was ready to settle down and play house with you because a nineteen-year-old said we are too old for hockey.” Shane knows Ilya is joking, but something warm and fuzzy suddenly settles in his chest.
As they walk to the car, Luca falls into step with Shane, glancing over at him and giving him a smile. “Hey, for the record, I just wanted to say, we’re all glad you’re not retiring yet. All of us young guys, we learn so much from you.” He awkwardly pushes his glasses up his nose. “Of course if you wanted to step back to, y’know, raise a family or something, we would all understand. But for the moment, everybody is super grateful to get to play with you.”
Shane feels very touched. “Thanks for saying that.”
By his side, Ilya cocks his head and catches Shane’s eyes. Shane sees emotion shimmer in them, the kind that is usually reserved for private moments between the two of them. He swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing, then says, “Our family is here for now.” It’s surprisingly genuine, and the smile Luca gives Ilya beams with pride and admiration.
“We appreciate it.” He quickens his steps, and Shane thinks he maybe wants to end this conversation before it gets awkward. “Okay, just wanted to tell you that. Bye!” They watch him scuttling off.
Ilya sniffs harshly, and Shane turns to him with a grin. “Are you getting emotional?”
“Fuck off.” Ilya pokes him in the ribs.
“Is it weird to say that I’m glad our kids only get up to harmless shit?”
“No, it’s not weird. I mean, they are a bit weird, but I’d rather they keep doing what they’re doing instead of getting into PEDs or some shit.”
“Yes. We raised them well.” That makes Ilya laugh. Shane takes his hand, and they continue their way towards the parking lot.
-
In the car, Shane texts Hayden.
heard about your rookie, that sucks. how are you?
Hayden replies instantly. pissed af but also glad they sacked him. he was unbearable. i miss the times when rookies were eager and hardworking.
Shane bites his lip in a grin. i’m pretty happy with our rookies. they’re good kids.
Hayden: idk man i feel like the new guys don’t have the same respect we had.
Shane: now you sound like an old man.
Hayden: I am an old man. we both are ;)
Hayden: the kids miss you
Shane: we miss them too. give them our love. we’ll come visit soon.
“Hayden says his kids miss us.”
“I miss them, too,” Ilya admits freely. Shane knows he cares for them deeply. At the moment, they are the fun uncles to the Pike kids, and Ilya loves it.
A brief silence falls over them, before Shane says what’s been on his mind for a week, now. “Do you think we’ll have our own, soon?”
It felt much more abstract before thirty came and went.
Ilya glances at Shane, but quickly returns his eyes to the road. He reaches across the middle console and places his hand on Shane’s knee. “Do you want to?”
“I dunno,” Shane admits. “At some point. But also, maybe before forty.”
“Yeah, same.” Ilya keeps looking ahead, and Shane can tell he’s contemplative.
“But I also want to keep playing with you. Win another cup with you.” Shane wraps his own hand around Ilya’s. “We’d have to retire before we have kids.”
“One of us, at least.”
Shane hadn’t even considered that. It stuns him into silence momentarily.
“You could keep playing.” Ilya says it lightly, like it’s not a huge thing.
“Me?” Shane asks dumbly.
Ilya gives a very slavic shrug, accompanied by a who else? gesture. “I like hockey, but you love hockey. I think you would die if you had to retire before you physically fall apart.”
Shane doesn’t know why, but there are tears in his eyes. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, is not a big deal, Shane. We both want kids, someone has to raise them.”
Shane squeezes Ilya’s hand, overcome with adoration for his husband. “You’d be the best dad.”
Ilya gives him a crooked smile, brings their joint hands to his mouth, and presses a kiss to Shane’s wrist. “At some point.”
“Yeah. At some point.” Shane leans across the middle console, and bumps his head against Ilya’s shoulder.