Chapter Text
Luca tried his best to go the extra mile during practices with the Centaurs. He always stayed a little extra to work on his form and was diligent about taking care of his equipment, he figured it was the least he could do to show he was grateful to be drafted onto the Ottawa team.
He was just some kid from Switzerland and now he was playing hockey on the same team as his hockey idols and they were well on their way to reaching playoffs for the Stanley Cup this year.
Apparently the extra time he spent perfecting his moves had started to be taken notice of.
"Nice backhand rook." Bood tipped his head at Luca as they skated past each other.
"Thanks, learnt from the best."
"Oh God don't let him hear you, we'll never live it down."
"What was that?" An accented voice called as he skated closer to the boys who were grabbing a drink from the side, "I believe my son just called me best hockey player ever, Shane are you listening?"
"Fuck off Rozanov." Luca whirled round to find the man leant against the boards as he grinned at Ilya who was already smiling back at him. The black haired man had been out for the last couple of practices after a nasty check in their last game which flared up an old collarbone injury.
"Well I mean-you're both great hockey players, one of you isn't better than the other necessarily you just have different strengths-"
"Ah Luca I thought I taught you better than this, you have been in Canada for what, couple of months? You have already adopted stupid Canadian manners." Shane pinched the Russian hard on his side with his only free hand since his arm was still in a sling.
Ilya fought vehemently for the next few minutes that no, Shane I did not squeal I am Russian, Russian's do not do this!
"Normal Russians maybe."
"If you weren't benched Hollander I swear-"
"It's fine Haasy, Hollander won't take it personally." Wyatt clapped the boy's shoulder companionably, effectively halting the back and forth between their Captains.
"Mm he should, you have stronger backhand than Shane now. He could learn from you. You will coach at next camp yes?"
Luca flushed but didn't answer, thankfully being pulled away by the other rookies to practice scoring. When he glanced back over his shoulder to see if their Captain was following, he saw Ilya lowering his head to press a kiss on Shane's injured shoulder, looking lovingly up at him as he did. Luca quickly looked away, feeling like he was intruding on something private.
Throughout the rest of the practice Luca kept sneaking looks to the boards, every time seeing Shane looking back at him with a flat expression as he tracked his moves on the ice.
Oh shit, I've pissed him off. He hates me. I shouldn't have said anything.
He was a bag of nerves by the time they were finished. Avoiding Hollander's gaze as he skated past him to step off the rink and head back to the locker room.
Ilya fist bumped all of his team off the ice until he was last to leave, swinging an arm around Shane's waist as they left the rink together.
"Luca is improving, yes?"
"Yeah he's really strong, he's gonna be great for the team."
Ilya shrugged. "You should tell him."
"What?" Shane turned to look at his husband as they walked round a corner.
"Tell him. He works hard and is big fan of you. You know he had your poster in his room as child?"
Shane snorted. "Yeah, he had yours too."
"Is not the same, he is used to me by now but you still have shiny quality. It would mean a lot coming from you I think."
"Okay, sure. Probably doesn't hurt he has Ilya Rozanov coaching him." It was rare Shane complimented his husband's hockey skills so Ilya was going to milk this for as long as he could.
"So you admit then, I am the best. I knew you would come to your senses eventually my love."
They'd reached the locker room and stepped inside, a comfortable chatter filling the space between teammates.
"Fuck off." Shane laughed, jostling the Russian with a gentle elbow to his stomach.
"Hey, watch your collarbone. I don't want my husband even more injured, we need him for next hockey game."
"Yeah or Haasy might end up taking your space." Bood shouted from across the room to the laughs of their teammates, Shane included.
"I couldn't take Shane's space." The rookie muttered, drying himself off and changing into his regular clothes to leave.
As the boys each started to get changed as well, Shane walked over to Luca while everyone was distracted.
"Your backhand is really strong, you're a real asset to the team rook."
"You think so?" Others may have said it rhetorically, but Luca was nothing but genuine when he asked Shane.
"Definitely. You keep going the way you are right now and you'll be the guaranteed winner for Rookie of the Year." Shane patted him twice on the shoulder as his Captain slid up behind them now dressed in a matching hoodie and sweatpants.
"You have to win Haasy, I will not have our good name I have tried so hard to build up come crashing down because Scott fucking Hunter's rookie won instead of mine."
"Scott Hunter's rookie still skates with straight legs and uses one hand on his stick, Haasy has nothing to worry about." Shane griped, face screwing up slightly as he recalled watching the game tapes and loudly complaining to Ilya while the other man sucked kisses into his neck with how turned on he got from his husband getting bitchy.
"I'll try my best Cap." Luca promised, tying his shoes.
"I know you will, you never let me down." Ilya reassured the younger man, nodding to himself as he wrapped an arm around Shane's waist and squeezed twice. "Come on Shanya, we must get home to Anya. She is due for her walk and I need to check your arm."
"My arm is fine." Shane muttered, stumbling a couple of steps as Ilya pulled him backwards like he weighed nothing.
"See you tomorrow boys!" Ilya called as he swung his training bag over his shoulder and kept an arm around his husband's waist to drag them out of the locker room.
Various versions of 'see you later', 'say hello to Anya' and 'bye Captain' echoed in their departure, Luca following not far behind. It wasn't until he unlocked his boot to chuck his duffel bag in there he felt like he was being watched.
He thought he'd find some photographer trying to sneak a photo of Rozanov and Hollander as they usually were, but instead he caught a pair of familiar brown eyes. Shane was stood with the passenger door open, one foot inside the car and nodded his head once at the rookie, smiling at him as Ilya complained about what was taking so long.
An equally familiar head of blond curls spun round to see what was holding his husband's attention and found Haas staring back at him. Ilya ceased his groaning as he smiled at his rookie as well, offering a wave before getting in their car and closing his door.
Luca lifted his hand in his own stilted wave, a genuine smile taking over his face as he could hear his Captain gloating over the fact he had to drive since Shane was out of commission in his sling, joking about speed limits and 'the boring way home vs the best way home'.
Once Shane closed his door and allowed his husband to buckle him in properly, they drove past Luca with a few sounds of the horn. Again the rookie waved, moving to get in his own car.
He couldn't wait to tell his parents about the Shane Hollander complimenting his hockey skills later.