United We Stand

Some can't stand homophobia.

Some can't stand the Voyageurs.

And some can't stand the dynasty that the Voyageurs inadvertently created when they ran Shane Hollander out of town for being gay.

So when news of why Shane Hollander signed in Ottawa alongside his husband comes out, 31 teams take it upon themselves to get back at the Voyageurs for all that they’ve done.

Notes:

Well hello there everyone x I'm so excited to welcome you to Part II of my new series "Be Gay, Get Even"! You don't have to have read the first part for this to make sense, but if you haven't read it, definitely check it out!

Four things you need to know going into this.

This story includes all 32 NHL teams, though as this is a work of fiction, the team names are all made up either by Rachel or myself. I fully admit, some of the names are funny and some are just plain stupid. Hope you enjoy reading them as much as I did coming up with them!

The teams are listed in alphabetical order, but the games themselves are not in order. The months in brackets are when those particular games occur, so you might see things mentioned more than once in different places!

This fic details the Voyageurs getting their shit rocked repeatedly. If hockey violence isn't your style (and no judgement here!), this fic isn't for you.

And as always, the author (aka me, Jessa) does not condone violence. That is, unless it's against the Montreal Voyageurs. Fuck the Montreal Voyageurs.

With that, enjoy! x

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The truth doesn’t come out the way anyone expected.

When Shane wakes up the day after the Montreal game, the proverbial hockey world is ablaze—which is impressive considering the previous inferno he had started by signing with the Ottawa Centaurs as soon as he was able.

But that news is nothing compared to the truth bomb detonated on the hockey world sometime during the game yesterday evening, and while he knows this isn’t an appropriate reaction—he’s supposed to be the bigger person after all—Shane reacts the only way he knows how: he laughs.

“What is so funny?” Ilya grumbled, smacking his lips together and blinking slowly as he rose up to consciousness beside him, furrowing his brows in confusion for exactly 2.4 seconds before rolling over, dropping his head against Shane’s chest, and promptly falling back asleep.

If it wasn’t for the fact that this was a near daily occurrence, Shane might have chalked it up as the cutest thing he had ever seen.

Threading his fingers into Ilya’s curls absentmindedly, Shane looked back down at his phone, his chestnut eyes intently scanning the words on the screen before him, gaze locked on a Reddit post that had gone viral overnight.

r/montrealvoyageurs • 11h ago
mrvoyageur

Shane Hollander Didn’t Leave the Voyageurs: He Was Forced Out

I [46M] have worked for the Montreal Voyageurs for 19 years. In that time I’ve seen Shane Hollander grow from a shy awkward teenager with a spotlight on his head, to the man he is today: A 3x Stanley Cup Champion, Olympic silver medalist, perpetual Lady Byng Memorial Trophy winner (along with all his other personal performance accolades), and now husband to Ilya Rozanov.

Shane isn’t just good: he’s the best of the best. Which makes the rest of what I’m going to say so much worse.

Shane joined the Voyageurs in 2010. In that first season he was quiet, but his talent was undeniable. In the locker room and on the bench, he often made himself as small as possible, never joining in on chirps or ganging up on another guy. He was always just there, quietly in the background, the first one to practice and the last one to leave. His locker was always the tidiest and his mannerisms always the politest. This is something that would carry through to the rest of his career.

By age 20, Shane Hollander was named captain of the Montreal Voyageurs and if you thought he was committed before, Captain Shane Hollander was a whole different beast.

Not only was he the first to arrive and the last to leave, but he was constantly making the team run lines, forcing them to practice rudimentary skills meant for children of the sport, claiming it was to keep their minds sharp and their reflexes quick.

And you know what? It worked. Some guys resented it at first. I heard them push back on him in the locker room. But he never relented, never raised his voice, never tolerated discontent. So the players would run lines and the Voyageurs would win like clockwork. He was creating a powerhouse.

In all my years working in hockey, I have never seen a player like Shane. His talent is undeniable, his commitment unwavering, and his performance on the ice mind-blowing year after year without fail. While the rest of the guys wanted to go out and party after a win, Shane wanted to go home. While half the team was picking up women on road trips and swapping rooms to give guys space to do so, Shane was reading a book and was lights out before 10 because he understood his body’s need for sleep if he wanted to perform at the level that he aspired to. There was only one thing he ever cared about and that was being the best hockey player around—and it showed.

And for a long time, the guys respected him for that. Sure he was quiet. Sure he was particular. Sure he was a little weird sometimes with his food habits. But as long as he continued to help the team win, the team didn’t seem to care.

That is until we took a trip to Florida in 2015. The Coach at the time mandated a team dinner—pretty standard practice on road trips. The dinner was fine, guys chirping each other, talking about their playoff chances, talking about who they thought was going to face who in the first round.

And then—as it always does—conversation turned to women.

Now mind you, over half the team were in committed relationships at the time, but if you’ve ever been around hockey players you know that doesn’t mean much. Don’t get me wrong, there’s tons of really good guys in the hockey world with wives and kids and white picket fences who genuinely love their partners. But hockey culture breeds infidelity and that is never more apparent than when you shove a group of testosterone overdosed men around a table and someone starts talking about women.

I will say, that part is the worst part of working for a hockey team. Half these players treat women like objects, conquests for them to brandish around in the form of left behind panties or photos that get passed around the table with no regard for the woman’s privacy. If you try to shut it down, the team turns on you. Unless it comes from the top, players don’t stop, and on the 2015 team the misogyny was rampant—especially from the coach himself.

In all the years I’ve known Shane, he’s only ever made one singular mistake, and it was on that road trip. What was the mistake you ask? He hesitated when Coach asked him why he never picked up at home or on trips. And it was that hesitation that changed it all. Couldn’t have been more than a second either, but he obviously wasn’t expecting to be put on the spot by his own coach of all people, and as soon as he hesitated the room was on him like a pack of wolves.

If you’ve ever listened to Shane’s interviews you can imagine what he said at that moment. “I’m focused on hockey right now. I’m focused on winning. I’m focused on bringing home the Cup.”

But it wasn’t enough for them, and before long the ugly part of hockey culture had reared its head: If you don’t pick up women, it must be because you’re gay, and you can’t be gay, because gay people don’t belong in hockey.

I don’t even remember how it ended per se—I think it might have been one of the assistant coaches who shut it down—but I can tell you this with confidence: Shane never raised his voice. He never defended himself, never denied it, never confirmed it. He sat there and took every barb thrown his way, stood up and told everyone he’d see them for lines the next day.

And the next day? That man was possessed. If you thought he was dominant before, that was nothing compared to the Shane Hollander we saw after being accused of being gay by his own teammates. The Voyageurs hardly lost a game for the rest of the season and in the playoffs Shane was unstoppable. If he could have brought that Stanley Cup home single handedly, he would have done it through his own blood, sweat and tears. And the guys? They shut up, because they were winning.

But it was there. It was there in 2016 too. Some of the guys were good, Hayden and JJ and a few of the others. Some players would poke fun at Shane, but he never rose to take the bait, and by the end of 2016 the Montreal Voyageurs were 2x Stanley Cup Champions.

But the discontent stayed and so did the homophobic comments in the locker room and on the ice. All the way up to Shane dating Rose Landry. As soon as their relationship was confirmed, the dynamic in the locker room changed too. Guys started showering at the same time as Shane again. Guiltily, I didn’t notice that they had stopped until suddenly 10 guys were in the shower at once with him and not just a couple. Shane noticed it too. He laughed when guys teased him, smiled when he was supposed to smile, acted coy when guys pressed for details about his newfound sex life. But his eyes? His eyes told the true story.

And then he and Rose broke up. He told the room that their schedules didn’t align, that she was going to Europe for a new movie, and that Shane needed to focus on hockey. Before, people might not have believed him. But this time the guys did—he had proven his straightness. He was one of the guys again.

That straightness lasted barely a year. I know, because I was in the room in 2018 when Shane gave up trying to be who the team wanted and decided to start being himself.

I was minding my own business (as I am paid to do) collecting equipment in the middle of the room and sorting them into different bins so everything could be washed before the next game when the team decided they were going out to celebrate their 5-game win streak.

As I’m sure you can imagine, Shane said no. He was tired; just wanted to go home and sleep. But the guys insisted—he needed to find a new woman after Rose, so why not come out with them? There were plenty of hot women in Montreal.

I’ll remember this until the day I die because Shane just…stopped. I couldn’t tell you what was going on behind his eyes, but for some reason he had decided that this was the day he would set them all straight (Edit: Ha, I didn’t notice I did this until it was pointed out below) and you could tell the guys knew it too because the room got really quiet really quick.

And then he said it, the truth that had been bubbling under the surface: “I’m gay. I didn’t break up with Rose because she’s in Europe, I broke up with her because she’s a woman. So no, I don’t want to go out with you guys tonight, because we aren’t looking for the same thing.”

And then he turned around, finished getting changed, and left.

Weirdly, it was…fine after that, if that’s even the right word to use. A lot of the guys stopped showering with Shane again, but he seemed to expect that. Guys were a bit weird about rooming pairs, but Shane was captain already, so by default he didn’t room with anyone if he didn’t want to anyways. The homophobic slurs certainly got louder—more pointed—but Shane took them in stride. It helped that Hayden and JJ still sat with him on buses and planes, some of the nicer guys still went out for food together. But there was a divide and somehow—impossibly—Shane was able to ignore it and continue playing insane hockey, bringing home the Voyageurs’ their third cup in six years.

And then Shane and Ilya got outed (by Shane’s own best friend and fellow Voyageur no less).

I got to the rink before Shane did that day and I wish I hadn’t. The shit these guys were saying about him?? His teammates? People he had won three Stanley Cups with? You would think he was a criminal with the way they were talking about him. Just disgusting words I refuse to repeat, but it was bad. Real bad. And when Shane eventually walked into that locker room later that day, my heart broke for him. You could see that he was terrified and embarrassed and so desperately hoping that his team would accept his relationship.

But the guys weren’t supportive of Shane in the slightest. Being gay was one thing. Being gay with Ilya Rozanov was apparently a cardinal sin, and they reminded him of that fact on a near minute basis during the playoffs. If you know Shane, you would know how committed he was to Montreal, so he would have dealt with it, would have kept playing and dealing with the homophobia if it meant he didn’t let anyone down.

That is, until the team accused him of tripping on purpose to let Ilya win in Game 7, as if the two of them hadn’t met in nearly every playoff first round for the last decade, as if them being together had ever stopped Shane (or Ilya) from scoring a hat trick against the other’s team, or from shoving the other into the boards, or from beating each other at the face-off dot.

I watched from the sidelines as they turned against him so ferociously it was like a pack of lions tearing apart an injured deer. And I think that’s what hurt him the most. Not that his team hated that he was gay, because they had always hated that he was gay. It was the fact that they made it abundantly clear there was never going to be a world in which they would accept Ilya Rozanov as his partner AND that they didn’t trust him to not lose to said partner on purpose. And once the trust was gone, what was the point of staying?

So, TL;DR: Shane Hollander didn’t “abandon” the Voyageurs because he wanted to play with his husband like some of you are saying. He was abandoned BY the Voyageurs for being a gay man in a happy relationship just because they didn’t like it. And frankly? I’m glad he found somewhere better to land. Go Centaurs Go! Take care of them please.

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Truevoyageurfan97 • 11h ago
Mannnnnn wtf??? Like sure, i dun want to think about him being gay n shit n liking dicks, but hes the best player weve ever had?? Why run him out of town?
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Voyageurs4Lyf • 11h ago
I’ve been a Montreal Voyageurs fan since I was 4 years old, but I cannot express how heartbroken I am to read all this. It’s so obvious you are telling the truth based on the details you shared. So insanely disappointed in this organization. Shane and Ilya deserve better.
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VoyageursAreTheBest • 11h ago
man I aint reading all dat. fuck shane hollander. stupid gay piece of shit.
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↪ [-] [deleted] 10h ago
This account has been deleted for violating Reddit’s community guidelines.

BostonRaidersFan1234 • 11h ago
Actually, fuck the Montreal Voyageurs. You can handle Shane being gay, but not him being in love with Ilya?? With Ilya Rozanov?? The man who loves animals and children?? Who never says no to stopping for a picture with fans?? Who is always donating money to GoFundMe’s for fans in need?? Who always stays the longest at fan signings to make sure no one gets missed? That Ilya Rozanov?? Sure he’s a bit of a shit head on the ice, but he’s still a human being who deserves to be loved. I hope the rest of the league absolutely destroys the Voyageurs this season, fuck every single person in that room who accused Shane of tripping.

Edit: Mildly amused at you saying he’d “set them all straight.” You probably didn’t even notice, but it made me laugh.
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↪ BlazeCalgary101 • 10h ago
THIS! I’m not even a Voyageurs fan, but how could you accuse Shane “3x Stanley Cup Champion and 3x Conn Smythe Winner” Hollander of tripping on purpose?? Have you seen the way those two compete against each other? If anything they probably compete harder because they are together!
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↪ VoyageursAreJesus • 10h ago
Listen, I AM a Voyageurs fan and this shit pisses me off. I’m a 34-year-old straight male and I truly could not give a FUCK who these guys fuck in their spare time. Can you score a goal? Great, do that then. This whole thing is messed up man, the Centaurs are going to be unstoppable, RIP to the rest of the league.
⬆ 72.8K ⬇ 9.3K

BoringPerson101 • 10h ago
I…I hate to say this because I know Hayden Pike is Shane’s best friend and all, but I don’t think I could ever talk to him ever again, especially not when his “accidentally” outing Shane and Ilya caused Shane to lose the only team he has ever known and his captaincy.
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↪ WhyAmIEvenHere • 6h ago
Yuuuuuuup fuck that dude srsly. Ilya seems alrite yno?
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JustWhy • 10h ago
I honestly don’t know if I should upvote this post because you are so brave for sharing this, or downvote this post because what the Voyageurs did was disgusting!!!! Poor Shane and Ilya!!!
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↪ ConcernedCitizen789 • 7h ago
I was the same. But I downvoted because I disagree with homophobia. Thank you OP for sharing this post, I hope you don’t get in trouble.
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↪ mrvoyageur OP • 3h ago
I was let go last night. But I don’t regret it, Shane deserves better.
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↪ JustWhy • 2hago
I don’t know if I should upvote or downvote this one either OP 😭
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CrazyforTheCentaurs • 9h ago
Alright everyone, repeat after me: FUCK THE MONTREAL VOYAGEURS!!!!!
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“Why did you not tell me about this?” Ilya demanded 20 minutes later as he paced around the floor at the end of their bed, Shane’s phone gripped tightly in his hand as he read through the post, his rage palpable in the air between them.

“What part?” Shane grimaced, dropping back down against the pillows and throwing an arm dramatically over his face with a sigh as Ilya parroted the post back at him.

“What was the mistake you ask? He hesitated when Coach asked him why he never picked up at home or on trips.” Turning to look at Shane, Ilya glared with enough force that Shane found himself wincing, watching Ilya’s gaze soften slightly as he did.

“Shane, that is a disgusting thing for a coach to be saying to his player. You should have told me.”

“Oh yeah?” Shane found himself scoffing, averting his gaze from his fuming husband and instead turning his head to stare resolutely at Anya in her bed along the wall. “And what would you have done, Ilya? Punched my coach too?”

“YES! Of course I would!” Ilya shouted, throwing his hands into the air, ignoring the confused look on Anya’s face as she startled awake, Ilya’s eyes still locked on Shane. “Shane, I don’t care about any of this but you, it’s always been you. I have been in love with you since we were teenagers, do you really think I wouldn’t punch your coach just because I could be kicked off my team? I’d go to jail if it meant it made you happy, you should know this by now.”

A sudden warmth spread through Shane’s chest as Ilya’s words settled into the nooks and crannies there, Shane reaching forward to tug his husband onto the bed and pulling the phone from his grasp, putting it on the nightstand before rearranging their limbs so his own head was cushioned on Ilya’s thick chest, his heartbeat a comforting lullaby underneath his ear.

“I love you,” Shane whispered from his new vantage point, smiling softly when Ilya placed a gentle kiss upon his head in response.

“I think that’s maybe why I didn’t tell you,” he continued a beat later, Ilya shifting the pair until their bodies were pressed against each other in as many places as possible. “Even though we weren’t officially together back then, I think I’ve always known you’d protect me if I asked. I didn’t want to seem weak by needing you to though.”

“Is not weak to be supported or to ask for help, Shane,” his husband replied gently, turning Shane’s chin up and placing a lingering kiss on his lips before adding more. “I wish you had leaned on me more back then. But I get it also. I only told you how much I am struggling earlier this year and that has been a problem for me since my mother died, so…really I am not much better.”

Letting out a humourless laugh, Shane reached forward and cupped Ilya’s cheek, dropping their foreheads against each other and taking in three deep breaths that Ilya mimicked, the space between them filled with the noise of their shared breaths and an unspoken understanding.

“But we have each other,” Shane whispered eventually once his heart had stopped its staccato drumming and had settled into something that more closely resembled what a heartbeat should be.

“But we have each other,” Ilya echoed, kissing Shane as their phones lit up simultaneously to their right, reaching out to grab them with one arm, the other still wrapped firmly around Shane’s torso. “And we always will.”

“Thank gosh for that.”

Pulling open their screens, both men’s brows rose in surprise as they registered the rapid number of notifications that were suddenly filling up their screens, Shane turning to look at the time and seeing “7:00 AM” reflected back at him.

“Guess our sleep focus turned off,” he found himself muttering as his phone started to ping somehow even more aggressively, almost dropping it in his rush to silence the ringer, Ilya doing the same before the pair turned to look at each other and promptly burst into a fit of laughter so strong it shook both their bodies and their bed as they processed the absolute absurdity of it all.

“This is second time you have broken the hockey internet in less than six months, Shane. This is very impressive, it must be a new record!”

“You think I have Dallas Kent beat after all these years?” Shane replied with a fading laugh as he finally caught his breath, shaking his head and standing from the bed, but not before a harsh slap punctuated the air as Ilya’s hand clapped his backside, Shane whipping his head around to glare at the offending man. “I’ll kill you, Ilya.”

“No you won’t,” Ilya smiled cheekily, openly admiring the view of Shane’s naked body, neither man having a penchant for clothes this far into their relationship since they both preferred the warmth of each other’s skin when they slept (and perhaps the easy access too).

“No,” Shane sighed, pulling open the top drawer and passing Ilya a pair of underwear and socks before pulling on his own. “I wouldn’t do that. Who else would take care of Anya if not you?”

“Excuse you! Anya is very nice dog! Anyone would be very lucky to have her as their child, but no one can have her because she is my child and only my child and I will not share her! Anya, come here baby girl!”

“Ugh, not on the bed,” Shane sighed even louder this time, making no move at all to stop said dog from clambering onto the bed and into Ilya’s waiting arms, the pair kissing each other directly on the lips in a way that made Shane’s stomach roll. She licks her own butt.

“Well, I’ll leave you two be to have your little moment there,” Shane said with another grimace, reaching into a subsequent drawer to pull out some sweats and a t-shirt, not even bothering to check who the shirt belonged to since he and Ilya were so similar in size and had long since abandoned any attempt at his and his sections within their respective closets. “See you down in the kitchen?”

“Yes. Please pull out ingredients for pancakes, I will be right behind you once I am done cuddling our child.”

“She’s a dog, Ilya.”

“And you are just a man!”

“I’m your husband??”

“See? Now how do you think she feels hearing such cruel words from her other father?” Ilya replied indignantly, raising his arm in the air to shoo Shane away with a derogatory shake of his fingers as he turned his attention back to the bundle of fur in his arms. “Do not worry, moya lyubov, he does not mean it. He is just cranky because he does not like being the center of attention unless it is about his hockey skills.”

“Hey!” Shane found himself pouting, ignoring the smirk that crossed Ilya’s features as he registered the downward pull of his lips. “That’s my name!”

“Not right now it’s not. Only good dogs get to be called moya lyubov.”

“Oh fuck off, I hate you so much you asshole!”

“No you don’t,” Ilya grinned, his smile widening at the blush that appeared on Shane’s cheeks without his meaning to. “You didn’t seem to mind when I had collar a around your neck last—”

“Oh my word, GOODBYE ILYA, DON’T COME DOWNSTAIRS EVER, SEE IF I CARE!”

And as Shane exited the room, it was to the loud happy peals of his husband’s laughter following behind him.

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Hollander Clan ❤️

Yuna (7:24 AM):
Boys, your Dad and I just saw the news.
The story is…everywhere.
How are you two holding up?

Ilya (7:26 AM):
We are okay, do not worry!
I am more mad that Shane did not tell me some of this was happening back then.
But we are both fine. We walked Anya and made pancakes.
Lots of messages on our phones right now though from…
Maybe whole NHL? Everyone we have ever met?

David (7:30 AM):
I bet.
Don’t be afraid to turn your phones off today if it gets to be too much.

Yuna (7:32 AM):
Yes, just let us know if you do so we don’t worry please.
Do you know who the employee was who wrote that post, Shane sweetie?

Shane (7:35 AM):
We’re okay, Mom.
A bit awkward having this all brought up again, but not much we can do.
And yeah, I know exactly who it is.

Ilya (7:36 AM):
You do??

Shane (7:37 AM):
Ilya, we are directly beside each other?

Ilya (7:38 AM):
Yes, but Mom and Dad are not, so I ask here.

Yuna (7:40 AM):
I knew you were my favourite son for a reason ❤️

Shane (7:41 AM):
Hey!!

Ilya (7:41 AM):
❤️

David (7:43 AM):
Don’t worry Shane. I still love you kiddo.

Shane (7:45 AM):
Love you too, Dad.
But yes. I’d bet money it was the equipment manager, Mike.
He has two lesbian Moms.
He was really nice to me when I came out to the team in 2018, and his initials are M.R.
So M.R. Voyageur tracks since that was basically the account name.

Yuna (7:48 AM):
Okay. But how do you feel about the post?
There’s a lot of things that have been revealed by it.

Shane (7:51 AM):
Kind of relieved honestly?
I mean, I’m not in a position to be able to talk badly about the Voyageurs, so…
Kind of glad someone else did it for me?
And there’s a lot of people who are mad on Ilya’s behalf which is a nice change of pace.

Ilya (7:53 AM):
❤️
You do not play for that shitty ass team anymore though, Shane.
You can say whatever you want.

Shane (7:55 AM):
❤️
Okay, but did you forget that I’m one of only four asian players in the league?
I don’t get to talk badly or have opinions the way the rest of you do.
I already get judged enough for being gay.

Ilya (7:57 AM):
So if I talk shit about the Voyageurs, does that mean I can use…
What is phrase?
White people power?

David (7:58 AM):
White privilege.

Ilya (7:58 AM):
Yes! Thank you, Dad.
So you cannot say bad things because you are a beautiful half-asian man?
But I am not a beautiful half-asian man, so this means I CAN say bad things.

Yuna (8:00 AM):
Ilya, sweetie.
Being white was never going to stop you from saying bad things about the Voyageurs.

Ilya (8:01 AM):
This is true.
They mistreated my husband.
Voyageurs are dead to me.
I will make them pay for as long as I live.
And I hope that rest of league will help me make them pay also.

Shane (8:02 AM):
Ilya.
What did you do?

Ilya (8:03 AM):
Why am I being accused of doing anything??
I am sitting right beside you??
How could I have done anything??

David (8:04 AM):
13 years of experience?

Ilya (8:05 AM):
David.
This is hurtful.
I am a nice man, thank you very much.
I am your wife’s favourite son!

David (8:07 AM):
Oh Ilya. Please never change.
Alright kiddos. Your Mom and I are going to go for a walk and try to…you know.

Shane (8:08 AM):
Calm Mom down before she tries to sue everyone who has ever played for Montreal ever?

Yuna (8:09 AM):
I resent that remark I’ll have you know.
But…yes. Essentially.

Ilya (8:11 AM):
Welcome to the dark side, Mama Yuna 😈
On this side we have cookies and we hate the Montreal Voyageurs!

Shane (8:12 AM):
You’ve been spending too much time on the internet, babe.
Love you Mom and Dad, enjoy your walk.

Ilya (8:13 AM):
LOVE YOU!!!

Yuna (8:14 AM):
Love you too, boys.

David (8:15 AM):
Love you kiddos.

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Scott Hunter, Kip Hunter, Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov

Scott (9:12 AM):
Hey you two. Scott and Kip here.
Just wanted to send you two a message of support.
Shane, Kip just read me the post while we were lying in bed.
I’m so sorry you went through all that.
I didn’t experience it quite that badly on the Admirals, but I’ve seen some of it.
How are you holding up?

Shane (9:14 AM):
Scott. Good to hear from you.
Hi Kip!
We’re okay.
I was just saying to my parents it’s kind of nice having the truth out there now.
You know…without having to be the one to say it myself.

Kip (9:16 AM):
I can’t even imagine, Shane.
That post made me so mad, I’m so glad whoever wrote it had the courage to do so.
Scott and I were just reading through the comments, there’s a lot of support for you guys.

Shane (9:17 AM):
Yeah, Ilya and I were doing the same.
I know Scott might hate to hear this, but it’s nice to see people supporting Ilya.
A lot of people are pretty mad that the Voyageurs wouldn’t accept that I love him.

Scott (9:20 AM):
He’s just so lovable.
How could you not.

Ilya changed the group name to Dinosaur & Sexy Young Babies

Scott (9:21 AM):
My point exactly.
Also, Ilya, ew. No.
That sounds weird.

Ilya changed the group name to Old Man & Sexy Young Babies

Scott (9:23 AM):
You’re right, Ilya.
It was the word dinosaur I had a problem with.

Ilya changed the group name to Fossil Support Center

Scott (9:25 AM):
I have so many regrets in life and almost all of them have to do with starting this conversation.

Shane (9:26 AM):
Sigh.
He locked himself in the bathroom or I’d take his phone away from him.

Scott (9:27 AM):
Don’t worry.
Kip’s never, ever going to let me live this down either way.

Kip (9:28 AM):
FOSSIL SUPPORT CENTER
🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Shane (9:31 AM):
You know, I might be married to him, but I do kind of get why people hate him.

Kip (9:32 AM):
I CAN’T BREATHE 🤣🤣🤣

Ilya (9:33 AM):
@Kip Hunter 😘
What do you mean, moya lyubov?
I am so lovable!
The fossil said so himself and he is 100,000 years old!

Kip (9:35 AM):
101,000, Ilya.
He’s aging 🤣

Scott (9:36 AM):
Excuse you??
You weren’t complaining 30 minutes ago when these aging bones were making you drool on the pillows, mister.

Ilya (9:37 AM):
AHHHHH!!
NO!!
BAD!!
STOP!!
IS LIKE FINDING OUT PARENTS HAVE SEX!!
MAKE IT GO AWAY PLEASE!!!!!!

Shane (9:40 AM):
You are a literal child, Ilya.

Ilya (9:41 AM):
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!

Scott (9:43 AM):
“You see sweetie, when a man and a man really love each other…”

Shane (9:45 AM):
He’s gone now.
Said he was going to clean his eyeballs with bleach.

Kip (9:47 AM):
🤣🤣🤣

Shane (9:48 AM):
But on behalf of both of us, thank you.
Genuinely.
There’s not many people who know what we are going through.
Ilya being Ilya aside, we both really appreciate you reaching out and checking in.
Are we still on for next week?

Scott (9:50 AM):
Of course!
And anytime Shane. That’s what friends are for.
Or whatever Ilya and I are.

Kip (9:51 AM):
Can’t wait to see you two!
Bring the rest of the gays too, I want to meet Harris!!

Shane (9:53 AM):
I can do that. You’ll love him, he’s the best.
As for Ilya…I don’t even have a way to describe him on the best of days.
Chaos gremlin?
Menace to society?
Reason for my early retirement?
Pick your poison.

Scott (9:55 AM):
Chaos Gremlin. Easy.
Alright, Kip and I need to get up and go eat.
Reach out anytime if you need anything.

Kip (9:56 AM):
Byeeeeeeeee!!!

Shane (9:57 AM):
Haha. Bye guys. See you next week!

Ilya (9:58 AM):
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Surprising absolutely no one, the entirety of the Centaurs roster showed up for optional skate the following morning, all 21 other players (and staff) intent on getting the full insider scoop on all things Montreal related.

“Duuuuudes!” Zane drawled the second the pair walked through the doors into the locker room, the room halting their conversations and turning their undivided attention towards Shane and Ilya. “How could you not tell us all the shit the Voyageurs did to you when we had the chance to beat the shit out of them??”

“Did you forget that my sexy husband broke that asshole McLeod’s jaw two nights ago?” Ilya chirped in reply, the smirk that crossed his face rife with pride as he lovingly placed a kiss on the back of Shane’s head.

“I didn’t mean to break his jaw,” Shane mumbled under his breath to no one in particular, detaching his husband from his back and pushing him towards his own stall on the other side of the room.

“Yes, yes,” Ilya started as he slowly sauntered away. “My husband is so big and strong and sexy and cannot control his own power. How awful.”

“It was kind of sexy,” Wyatt conceded with a dazzling grin, continuing more seriously a moment later. “You two okay though? Did you hear from anyone on the Voyageurs?”

“Not really,” Shane sighed, dropping his bag into his locker and beginning to rifle through for his things.

That wasn’t 100% true though. He had heard from Hayden and JJ the day previous, but Ilya had shut the conversation down as soon as he had seen it with a simple “No. No Voyageurs today. Bye bye. Try again never!!!” and that had been that.

“But yes, we’re okay,” Shane continued, realizing belatedly he had answered only one half of the questions. “I mean, it’s kind of embarrassing honestly? But, it’s out there now, so not much I can do about it.”

“For what it’s worth, Shane, the internet has collectively decided to become anti-Voyageur overnight. I’ve seen some pretty amazing memes and think pieces coming out in the last 36 hours, a lot of people are rallying around you two!”

Shaking his head in amusement, Shane smiled as he processed where Harris was sitting, tucked in behind Troy who had been leaning forward tying his skates, a fond smile gracing his warm features at having his boyfriend so close.

Fuck, this team really was gay.

“Is my hope that entire league will become anti-Voyageur,” Ilya lamented from his stall, already stripped down to his underwear, winking at Shane when he caught him admiring the view. “Nothing would make me happier—beside my loving husband of course—than seeing Montreal at the bottom of the league because everyone gangs up on them. Ahh, how sweet that would be.”

“You say that like I was the only good player on the team,” Shane pointed out with a laugh, raising his brows in amusement when Ilya gestured at him as if he was proving his own point.

“Yes? And?”

“It takes 23 players to win a Stanley Cup, Ilya. I know it’s been awhile since you won one, but you kind of need everyone to show up, not just one guy.”

Ignoring the chorus of “ooooooooh’s!” that the others threw across the room, Ilya forged on.

“Okay but what is your point, Shane?”

“My point,” Shane continued with only a partial glare, “is that the team isn’t suddenly going to suck just because I left. The Voyageurs had barely any roster movement this summer, the team is basically the same as what it was last season.”

“Oh? You mean last season when you lost to Ottawa Centaurs team who were in playoffs for the first time since forever? That Voyageurs team?”

“But Ilya, don’t you know,” Zane teased from two stalls down. “Shaney boy over here tripped on purpose because he was making heart eyes at you! So really we got off easy.”

“No! Is not true!” Ilya replied aghast, putting one hand on his chest as if wounded. “Is me who makes heart eyes at Shane, not the other way around. Shane only makes angry eyes at me because I am annoying him. I am the lover boy between the two of us.”

Well. That was maybe true.

“Anyways!” Shane said loudly, clapping his hands together thrice to interrupt the forthcoming rant he could see building in his husband’s eyes. “Point is, yes, everything in that post is true. Yes, I think I know who wrote it. No, I have not heard from my previous place of employment. And yes, you can absolutely punch a Voyageur the next time we see them.”

And a moment later: “Except for Hayden and JJ.”

“I think he means especially Hayden and JJ,” Ilya corrected, smiling innocently at Shane when he glared at him. “But for now boys, let’s go do lines because my husband here has a lot of pent up anger and my dick can only handle so much hate sex, so for now, let us practice.”

“Oh my word, Ilya, we’re at work!! I want a divorce,” Shane muttered weakly as he turned back to his stall to begin stripping amongst the hooting and hollering from the rest of the team, a light blush creeping across his cheeks as he thought back to the day previous.

Though for what it was worth, the hate sex had been fairly life changing. But Shane was never going to tell his husband that—his head barely fit through doors as it was.

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Shane had long accepted the fact he would be asked to do media that day, going so far as to practice some mock responses in the mirror while Ilya had been walking Anya before they drove over to the rink. Hockey player or not, he knew what a good news story looked like, and unfortunately for him—it was him.

“How are you feeling?” Harris asked as they walked towards the media room, Shane already registering the noise of the reporters milling around up ahead.

“I mean, I don’t really love the idea of talking about my sexuality for the entire world to hear,” Shane huffed, casting a forlorn expression at Harris who smiled gently in understanding. “But also…I get that I kind of have to.”

“I mean, you don’t have to,” Harris countered. “But from one gay man to another, I do think there would be some value in talking about this. I mean, it’s everywhere right now, even in The New York Times. I think it would be good to control the narrative a little bit and reign some of the speculation in.”

“Anything you don’t want me to say?” Shane queried, the pair slowing to a halt just out of sight of the reporters in the hallway outside the media room.

“Shane, you are the most media trained player I have ever worked with,” Harris replied easily, his words genuine. “If it were your husband I was sending in there I’d be having an actual aneurysm right now. But you? Say whatever you are comfortable with, I trust you to decide what’s right. Is there anything you don’t want to speak about so I can shut it down if it gets asked?”

Pondering the question, Shane paused to consider what types of questions or comments he was and wasn’t comfortable answering, eventually settling on what his heart felt was the closest to the truth.

“I won’t answer questions that ask about specific players on the Voyageurs,” Shane started, feeling a bout of gratitude wash over him as Harris began taking notes on his clipboard. “I also won’t tolerate anyone speaking ill of Ilya or insinuating that any of this was his fault. Other than that…I guess it’s fair game?”

“That all seems reasonable,” Harris replied with a decisive nod, clicking the top of his pen and motioning for Shane to lead the way. “Might as well go get this over with.”

The mood in the media room was more jovial than Shane had expected as the pair entered the room, and belatedly Shane realized that his reaction was likely a trauma response to being captain of the oldest team in the NHL, a team that demanded a certain reverence from its players both in their actions and their responses.

But as he and Harris walked in, it wasn’t to a school of sharks waiting to pull him under, but to a group of men and women who seemed to care a heck of a whole lot about how Shane the person was holding up.

“Shane,” Wes, the Centaurs’ rink side reporter, opened heartily as he clocked the pair walking into the room, holding out a hand for Shane to shake. “Heck of a last 36 hours you’ve been having, eh?”

Looking around before answering, Shane stopped to shake the hands of all the people currently in the room, surprised despite himself that not one person had a camera or a microphone pointed his direction yet, though he was certain the larger network cameras had the capability of picking up the audio in the room all the same.

“That’s one way to describe it,” Shane tried cheekily, smiling genuinely when the words seemed to land well with the group around him. “I’ve never been so popular in my life and I’ve never wanted to be less popular than I do right now.”

“I bet,” Wes chuckled, stepping aside so some of the others had better access to Shane. “I’ll be quick, Shane, before we get to the official scrum, but I just wanted to say I’m sorry you had to deal with all that and I’m glad we have you here on the Ottawa Centaurs, because we for sure appreciate all that you and your husband bring to the sport.”

And fuck, wasn’t that the loveliest thing he had never expected to hear.

“Thank you, Wes,” Shane choked out around the blockage that rose up in his throat, the younger man having to clear his throat once, twice, three times before he was able to continue. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around playing on this team and being allowed to be all of me for the first time in my career. It’s been nice, but…still feels like I am waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“That’s fair,” a man by the name of Bill said from Shane’s right, his smile kind. “You’ve had to hide who you are for a long time, Shane. But we’re glad we get to have the full version of you here.”

Nodding his head in gratitude, Shane averted his gaze, steeling himself with several deep breaths as he closed his eyes and gave himself over to his breathing techniques to settle himself, opening his eyes a moment later to see the room watching him with expressions he could only describe as fond.

“Shall we get this over with then?”

“We’ll go easy on you,” Bill said with a laugh, though Shane could tell he was being serious. “I can’t imagine you’ll be giving any of us an exposé piece on the Montreal Voyageurs today, so we’ll keep it high level. None of us are out to get you.”

“Thank gosh for that,” Shane found himself muttering, lips quirking up at the laughter his words pulled from the men immediately around him.

Situating himself in front of the Centaurs media backdrop, adorned with their awful team logo and the logo of their title sponsors, Shane found himself seeking direction until he was centered where the camera crew wanted him, shifting until he saw a thumbs up and catching out of the corner of his eye as Ilya slipped into the room, the man shaking his head so as not to draw attention to himself.

“Well Shane, you’ve had an eventful few days here,” Wes started in a near perfect repeat of his off-camera comments. “Two days ago you broke a Montreal Voyageurs jaw in a heated on-ice scrap and now news has come out from a former Voyageur employee detailing some of your less than favourable experiences within the organization. That’s a lot to navigate, where’s your head at today?”

“I don’t think I even know where my head is to be honest,” Shane said with a forced smile, hoping it came off as awkward and genuine, his usual preferred approach. “Really wish all this news was about what a great hockey player I am, but I guess I’ll have to score a few more goals to return the focus where I want it.”

“Doesn’t help that your husband scored four goals two days ago does it?” Wes pressed, his tone light and teasing.

“He’s so annoying,” Shane huffed, ignoring the grin he could see spread across his husband’s features at the back of the room and the laughs of the people in front of him. “Am I proud of him? Yes. Do I wish it had been me? Also yes.”

“Have you scored four goals in a single game before?” Wes asked, nodding to Harris in acknowledgement when the Media Director motioned to him that his time was up for questions.

“I mean back in the OHL, sure, but not in this league,” Shane grimaced, making a face much to the amusement of everyone around him. “Though trust me when I say I will be doing everything within my power to try and get four myself because it’s only been two days and it’s practically the only thing Ilya has talked about since it happened.”

“Not true!” said man interjected from the back of the room, having the decency to look a little mollified when Shane raised one of his brows at him and Harris shushed him as he drew the attention of the room to himself. “Okay, is mainly not true, I talked about other things too. Like how strong my husband is and how much I ha–”

“Anyways!” Shane interrupted, shooting a glare Ilya’s way before he could finish his sentence, turning his attention back to the microphones in front of him. “Short answer, no, but I’d love to be able to join the exclusive club.”

“Is it safe to say you read the Reddit post that is currently blowing up the internet?” A reporter by the name of Dylan asked next, his phone outstretched in front of him to record Shane’s answer.

“Kind of hard not to at this point,” Shane laughed lightly, placing his hands on his hips to steady himself. “But yes, Ilya and I read it yesterday morning and we’ve taken some time to read through the comments as well. I don’t want to get into it much, but I do just want to thank everyone for the support they’ve given Ilya and I across the last 36 hours and hopefully the Centaurs and us can play some really good hockey over this next week here to give you something else to talk about.”

“Shane, a lot of people are wondering how much of that post was true,” Dylan continued not unkindly, his voice questioning, but not accusing. “Do you have any comments about what was detailed in the post itself?”

Now this question Shane had practiced for.

“I really enjoyed my time as a Voyageur and it was an honour to be captain of such a storied organization for so many years,” Shane started, his tone going flat so as not to give away any of his internal strife as he boldly continued. “I’d say largely that the post was accurate in its depiction of my experience in Montreal, but that doesn’t change the love I have for the fans or the city. My own personal issues aside, I will always be a fan of Montreal to some degree and wish them the best. Do I wish things had gone differently? Sure. But there’s no point focusing on the past, so now I'm just happy to be an Ottawa Centaur and to focus on trying to bring my hometown our first Stanley Cup alongside my husband and our amazing teammates.”

“Shane, a lot of people are trying to guess who it was who accused you of tripping. Do you have any comments?” A reporter asked that Shane didn’t recognize, his tone incredibly pointed, suggesting to Shane that he might be from Montreal, Shane opening his mouth to answer before Harris jumped in and saved him.

“Alright folks, let’s keep these questions high level please. We have no desire to get into specifics. Next question, I’ll give it to The Globe & Mail.”

“Shane, do you think that this sport is safe for gay people?” The Globe & Mail reporter asked from somewhere outside of Shane’s peripheral, and wasn’t that a loaded question.

Hadn’t practiced that one in the mirror.

“I don’t think we’re at a point where we can say that yet fully, no,” Shane started cautiously, pausing to collect his thoughts before continuing with a thoughtful hum, his mind going back to Harris’ words from earlier encouraging him to be honest for the sake of all the gay men in their sport.

“In full honesty, Ilya and I had never planned on coming out while we were still playing. Not because we felt unsafe, but there’s a lot of homophobia within these locker rooms and on the ice and not a lot of accountability to try and curb that behaviour. Speaking only for myself, I didn’t want to make people uncomfortable by being around me if they knew I liked men, which isn’t even fair because I’ve never noticed or had eyes for any other man other than Ilya since we met 13 years ago.”

“But when you have generational players like Scott Hunter who spend their entire careers hiding. You have people like Ilya and I who I think are pretty decent players—“

A loud chuckle filled the room interrupting Shane’s words, but he didn’t mind. It was nice to be able to speak about this openly for a change.

“—and you have a few players in the West who are gay too, but there’s what? 10 openly queer players out of 1,000 active players across a season? There’s not a lot of us.”

“Do you wish more people came out?” Bill asked, his tone curious. “Or to your understanding, is there just the 10 of you?”

“Do I think there’s actually only 10 queer players in the league? Maybe. This sport breeds straightness to a painful degree, so it’s possible. But I’d imagine there’s a lot more people, like Ilya, who are bisexual,” Shane noted. “I’m gay, like…just gay. As you all know from Ilya’s past, he is not. So I think there’s probably more guys who sit somewhere on the queer spectrum as a whole rather than identify as fully gay.”

“But the fact you only know about 10 of us is pretty indicative that we’re not where we need to be yet. I’d honestly rather you never know, but since I’ve broken the hockey world twice this year because of my sexuality, here we are.”

As he stopped talking and took a swig of water amongst the laughs, Shane caught Ilya’s eye at the back of his room, surprised to see light dancing behind his husband’s eyes as the reflection from the press conference caught the tears that were gathering there, sending a pang of longing lancing through Shane’s chest.

“What do you think this sport can do to better support queer players? How do you fix it?” A young woman asked on Shane’s right, though Shane had also never seen her before to know her name. “Do you think there’s value in having pride nights and things of the like to reshape the narrative around queerness in sport?

“That’s a tough one,” Shane admitted honestly. “There’s lots of reasons people might be uncomfortable by it, whether that’s because of ignorance, how they were raised, religious reasons, or whatever else.”

“Speaking only for myself again, I’d really rather we never spoke about my sexuality ever again. I’m a hockey player. I get paid to score goals, defend hard, and be a good teammate and leader on the ice. The fact my sexuality has even become a topic of conversation is I think a failure of society. My sexuality doesn’t shoot the puck, I do.”

“But I also want all the young hockey kids who might be like me and Ilya and Troy and the others to know you can be gay and win Stanley Cups,” Shane said passionately. “You can be bisexual and win Stanley Cups. You can be any sort of sexuality and win a Stanley Cup. That’s why our Irina Foundation Hockey Camps are so important and why we invite so many diverse players to coach, because we want young kids to see themselves reflected.”

“Do I think having pride nights are going to make people more tolerant? Not really,” Shane continued, chancing a glance at the back of the room and noting how many of his team were now standing there listening, not having seen them come in. “But speaking for myself again, Ilya and I went to a pride night at the Knicks game last year and it meant the world to me to see the support from the NBA and the inclusivity. So as a player it can be a bit awkward, especially when you play with guys who refuse to wrap their sticks, but as a fan I think it’s beautiful.”

“To fix it though? I think you need good leadership who won’t tolerate homophobia on the ice and in the locker room. I think we need stricter rules on homophobic slurs to really make people accountable for what they say. And I think—regrettably for me who hates drawing attention to himself—we need people like Ilya and I to be people like Ilya and I so people get used to it.”

Smiling at the chuckles his words pulled from the reporters gathered around him, Shane found himself smiling at Ilya with a look he could tell was sappy and fond as he waited for the next question, which was lobbed to him by their beat reporter, Lawson, a moment later.

“How does it feel, Shane, to be a pioneer of inclusivity in this sport?”

“Ha,” Shane laughed, looking down with a grin spread across his features. “I wouldn’t call myself that, I think that honour belongs to Scott Hunter. His coming out changed everything for Ilya and I. Before him we were never going to come out. We weren’t even officially together yet, because you weren’t allowed to be gay and play hockey.”

“And then Scott pulled Kip on the ice and showed that you can be gay and play hockey. Ilya and I got together like a month later, so we owe a lot more than Ilya would ever be willing to admit to his bravery. Today we say we’ve been together since we were 18, but it all became much more real after what Scott did. And if we can be those people for other young kids, then I guess all this awkwardness will have been worth it.”

“Do you have any advice for any aspiring gay hockey players?” Jackson tacked on, the smile he gave Shane one filled with warmth.

“Well, the only advice I really have is definitely going to be a sound bite for all of you, so you’re welcome,” Shane said around the laughter in the room. “But be gay and do you. Not everyone is going to like it, but not everyone has to. Only person who has to be okay with it is you, so be proud, be brave as Ilya always tells me, and work hard and hopefully we get to play with some of you in the NHL before we retire.”

“Shane, last question for you,” a woman named Alicia began after a tap from Harris, a reporter Shane adored who had transferred from Boston to start the year. “Do you have any hard feelings towards the Voyageurs?”

Watching the interview back later that night, Shane would admit that he didn’t do a great job of covering his reaction to the question as his face morphed through a couple of expressions before landing on a somewhat pained look that pinched at the corner of his eyes. But considering his last 36 hours, you could hardly blame him.

“I loved being a Montreal Voyageur for a long time. They are my Mom’s favourite team after all,” Shane aimed for teasing, smiling once, though the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “But I wish…”

“You wish?” Alicia pushed gently when Shane didn’t continue, the room audibly holding their breaths as they awaited his response.

“I wish I had been enough for them,” Shane finished, looking up to meet Ilya’s eyes and watching his face crumple. “I wish they had accepted all of me. But I’m so lucky that Ottawa’s leadership took a chance on me and have given me an opportunity to play really good hockey with an amazing group of guys, and also that I get to spend the rest of my career playing alongside my husband. There was never a world in which we thought this was a possibility, especially not as two out players in a relationship, so getting to be 100% me in the locker room and that being okay is a gift I will never stop being grateful for.”

And if there were tears in his eyes as he finished speaking, and in the eyes of many of the people in the room? Well, fuck it. He deserved to speak his truth.

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Anaheim Hammerheads (October)

Two days later after another satisfying Centaurs win, Shane collapsed onto the couch beside Ilya following a long shower for his aching muscles, tucking his feet up underneath himself and pulling Ilya’s arm over his shoulder so he could snuggle into his touch, frowning when he saw the game that he had pulled up on the screen.

“Uhhh….why are we watching a Voyageurs game?” Shane questioned as he registered the jerseys on the ice, pulling back from Ilya’s embrace to look at his husband with a confused expression, his confusion deepening at the extremely amused expression that graced said husband’s features.

“Look at the score,” Ilya smirked, laughing fully when Shane gasped as he took in the numbers at the top of the screen.

“10-2 Anaheim??”

“Cliff texted me during our game. He and rest of Raiders are at a pub watching together. One of our former teammates plays for Anaheim now. Cliff texted him to tell him to give Montreal hell. Maybe he took it literally.”

“Jesus,” Shane said in disbelief, adjusting his position so he could reach for his phone and pull up the NHL app, eyes flicking through each of the goals listed under the game, surprised at how few names he actually recognized from those who scored.

“Wait, Cliff texted him telling him to give them hell??”

“Well…” Ilya deflected, not quite meeting Shane’s eyes as he continued. “It might have been a group chat.”

“And you what??” Shane pushed, mouth partially agape, though really he wasn’t sure why he was even surprised. “Texted your former teammate to beat up my old team!?”

“I would not text him that!” Ilya huffed out dramatically before adjusting his features into one that closer resembled the embarrassment he was feeling at having gotten caught out at his lie, Shane well aware there was more. “Though…I may have called him and told him to make their life miserable during the intermission so there wouldn’t be any proof…”

“Ilya Grigoryevich Rozanov!”

“Is stupid team, Shane. You should be happy people are hating on them.”

“What are you going to do, Ilya?? Find someone from every team to be your enforcer since you can’t be at every game??” Shane demanded, though he stubbornly refused to acknowledge the warmth that was spreading through his chest at the mere thought, knowing full well that there was a large chance his husband had already done just that.

“No” Ilya grumbled stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Some teams have been texting me first.”

“Ilya,” Shane laughed weakly, first a low chuckle and then a building wave that took over his entire body, his shoulders shaking with the force, pulling matching laughter from his husband before the pair collapsed into each other’s arms.

And when said laughter eventually turned into the pair tugging each other’s clothes off and fucking on the couch to the sight of the Voyageurs embarrassing loss?

That was just good sportsmanship.

To celebrate Anaheim, of course.

FINAL SCORE:
ANA - 11 | MTL - 4

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Arizona Roadrunners (March)

The hit came out of nowhere as Montreal’s captain was rocked face first onto the ice, clenching his teeth as pain radiated down his spine at the hit, turning his head over his shoulder to see one of the Roadrunners defencemen skating away from him with a feral grin on his face as a whistle blew down the play.

“What the fuck was that about?” Wilson yelled out, chasing down his assailant, realizing as he got closer that said man had a good half a foot on him.

“You know what it was about,” Ivanov said easily, planting his hands on the top of his stick and smirking down at the other man, no one around them moving to interject.

“Dude, you are Russian, since when do you give a shit about gay people? That’s literally your whole shtick over there isn’t it? Fuck gay people??” Wilson accused the other with a huff of anger, barely restraining himself from punching Ivanov in the face (and only partially because of how far above him it was).

“Da,” the other man replied, his face pulling back into a grin that left Wilson feeling rather unsettled. “I am Russian. And yes, many Russians hate gay people. But Russia is big country. Some of us were raised better. Some of us think Rozanov giving up his citizenship to marry his husband was brave.”

“That, and I do not like you, Wilson,” Ivanov whispered as he leaned down and brought their faces alongside each other, the former shivering at both the proximity and the words entering his ears. “I will show you how much I do not like you alllllllll night. Look forward to it, da?”

And when Wilson took his gear off at the end of the night, it was with gritted teeth, a wince, and perhaps a fractured rib.

FINAL SCORE:
MTL - 4 (OT) | ARI - 3

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Boston Bears (November)

“Hello Boiziau.”

Pausing in place where he was stretching on the ice, JJ slowly tilted his head back, gaze traveling up, up, up the length of the hulking figure that was Cliff Marlow, the two men the same height on paper, though Cliff bore a much bulkier stature than JJ did.

“Hello Marlow,” JJ replied carefully with a barely hidden gulp, adjusting his position until he had raised himself to his full height, the pair now eye-to-eye.

“Are you looking forward to the game tonight, JJ?” Cliff asked with a wicked glint in his eye, his tone mocking as he switched to the other’s first name.

“Erm, oui, of course,” JJ responded, his Québécois accent thickening as he made eye contact with Hayden over Cliff’s shoulder, the latter rapidly skating the other direction when he realized who JJ was speaking with, Cliff’s distaste of the two of them no secret.

Not that he had cornered them at Shane and Ilya’s wedding last summer and told them exactly how their future games were going to go or anything.

“That’s good,” Cliff smiled unnervingly, placing a large palm on JJ’s shoulder. “We wouldn’t want anyone to have a bad game tonight or accidentally trip or anything, would we?”

“I have already apologized to Shane for accusing him of that,” JJ huffed defensively, shoving Cliff’s hand off his shoulder and pushing himself back a step. “He’s one of my best friends.”

“Sure,” Cliff replied easily. “But Ilya is my best friend. And he and Shane aren’t here. So this is between us.”

As Cliff skated away, JJ felt the gaze of the rest of the Voyageurs lock onto him immediately, his teammates noting the distinct lack of colour remaining on his face.

He was so absolutely fucked.

*****

Marly ❤️

Ilya (9:48 PM):
👀

Marly ❤️ (10:17 PM)
Mission accomplished

*****

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Message: Love you!!!

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Marly ❤️

Marly ❤️ (10:23 PM)
Dude
I thought u were kidding man
I didn’t think you’d actually send me 10 grand???

Ilya (10:25 PM):
I am man of my word, Marly.
And also, I cannot punch JJ myself without getting a divorce.
This is second best thing.

Marly ❤️ (10:28 PM)
Love u Roz
For sure broke his nose
Won’t stop him from playing, but it’ll hurt for awhile

Ilya (10:25 PM):
Love you too Marly ❤️
Yes, was very satisfying to watch.
Shane is with his Mom tonight, so I have YouTube replay on repeat.
Best way to spend my night.
Here, link for you to also watch!
[@Sportsnet]

*****

Sportsnet (@sportsnet)
WATCH: Montreal Voyageurs RD, JJ Boiziau, got into a heated fight with Boston Bear Rival, Cliff Marlow (RW) during tonight’s #BOSvMTL game. Boiziau left the game in the third period and did not return. www.sportsnet.ca/com/video/fuckthemontrealvoyageurs

FINAL SCORE:
BOS - 8 | MTL - 3

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Brooklyn Scouts (December)

“You know,” Drapeau found himself yelling at the guys in the locker room during the second intermission, “it would be really fucking nice if any of you wanted to try defending for a change instead of leaving me out there on my own!”

“Dude, we’re in Brooklyn,” one of the Voyageurs sighed, his face downturned as he stretched out his shoulder from a hit towards the end of the second period. “Have you seen how many Scott Hunter jerseys there are here tonight?”

“Oh I didn’t know the fans were the one playing this game tonight, explains why you all fucking suck!”

“Try blocking a shot or two, Draps, that would go a long way,” Wilson retorted from where he sat glaring at their netminder in the corner of the room. “You’re one to fucking talk.”

Turning to look at Hayden to his right, JJ found himself sighing.

“I miss winning,” he said longingly, pulling a small smirk onto Hayden’s cheeks as the rest of the room divulged into a series of shouts and angry barbs.

“I miss Shane,” Hayden admitted. “Life was so much better when he was here.”

And before JJ could point out the obvious, a water bottle whizzed past their heads pulling them back to the pandemonium that had taken over the room.

Surprising no one, the Voyageurs went on to lose the game.

FINAL SCORE:
BRK - 6 | MTL - 2

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Buffalo Swords (January)

“Shane, tell me,” Ilya started from where he lay sprawled out naked in their bed. “Since when did Buffalo get good?”

“Buffalo?” Shane questioned as he strode back into the room with a warm washcloth, leaning across the bed and unceremoniously picking up Ilya’s dick to clean it off, his husband not even taking his eyes off the TV screen, though he still turned his head to the left to blow Shane a kiss in thanks. “I don’t think Buffalo has ever been good, have they?”

“They are good tonight,” Ilya noted, gesturing at the screen until Shane looked, his eyes rolling so far back in his head he was shocked they didn’t get stuck when he saw what Ilya had put on.

“You have a weird obsession with watching the Voyageurs lose,” Shane huffed, though he couldn’t stop the grin that overtook his cheeks as he did.

“Yes. Honestly, you should keep that washcloth here, we might need it again,” Ilya replied cheekily, grabbing at Shane’s wrist and tugging him into his arms. “Nothing gets me going more than watching the Voyageurs suck.”

FINAL SCORE
BUF - 3 | MTL - 1

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Calgary Blaze (December)

Ilya created the group Bad Players & Good Husbands

Ilya (6:14 PM):
Good luck tonight 🙂

Hayden (6:16 PM):
That’s not ominous or anything

JJ (6:17 PM):
What the fuck is this group name man??

Ilya (6:18 PM):
🙂

Shane (6:20 PM):
Ilya. Change the group name.

Ilya changed the group name to Two Trips & Two Gays

Shane (6:22 PM):
Ilya!

Hayden (6:24 PM):
Awe man
I’ve been spending too much time around u 2
That’s kind of funny actually

JJ (6:25 PM):
I SAID I WAS SORRY

Shane (6:26 PM):
Ilya. Don’t make me repeat myself.

Ilya changed the group name to Shane’s Entourage

Hayden (6:28 PM):
Be honest Ilya
Did u have to google how to spell that?

Ilya changed the group name to Says Man Who Does Not Check Videos Before Sending

JJ (6:29 PM):
Ok Rozanov, I will give you that
That was pretty funny 😂

Hayden (6:30 PM):
Yeah ok, I deserved that
Now are u going to tell us why u 2 are wishing us good luck?
It's just Calgary?

Ilya (6:31 PM):
🙂

Shane (6:32 PM):
Sigh.
Did you forget who their President is?

Hayden (6:33 PM):
Man I don’t pay attention to the West
Who gives a shit?

Ilya (6:35 PM):
Their President created the You Can Play foundation.
Have fun 🙂

Hayden (6:37 PM):
Ah fuck.

JJ (6:37 PM):
Tabarnak!

FINAL SCORE
CGY 5 | MTL - 1

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Carolina Tornadoes (November)

“Surely we don’t know anyone in Carolina who wants to kill us…do we?” Hayden asked JJ as they got off the bus and began heading into the arena, each of the men holding a coffee and a back full of tension.

“Is anywhere safe at this point, mon ami?” JJ replied heavily, looking forlornly up at the Tornadoes logo on the side of the building.

“It’s gotta let up eventually though, right??” Hayden asked as he stopped in place, his eyes turning frantic. “It’s only November and we’ve already lost 6 guys to injuries! If we keep this up we’ll basically be the farm team by the end of the season!”

When JJ didn’t answer and instead continued walking, Hayden found himself yelling at his friend’s retreating figure.

“Right??”

FINAL SCORE:
MTL - 2 | CAR - 0

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Chicago Beans (October)

“Hello boys,” the men stretching near the edge of their zone heard as Chicago’s captain skated up to them. “How you homophobes doing?”

“Fuck off,” Comeau spat, his face going red with anger. “None of us give a shit what you fucking think, Smith.”

“You will,” the older man replied with a glint in his eye. “Shane and I play together for Canada, and unlike you shits, we actually take care of our own. What can I say? The Beans are looking forward to tonight’s game. Should be fun.”

With that he skated off, the group of Voyageurs he left behind glaring at each other, each of them just as much to blame as the other, though none were willing to take responsibility.

“It’ll pass, it always does,” Wilson encouraged more for his own sake than for the others, shooting a glare at Smith’s retreating back. “It’s only been a couple of games since that fucking post. It’ll die down.”

It, in fact, did not die down.

FINAL SCORE:
CHI - 7 | MTL - 3

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Colorado Mountains (December)

“Ilyaaaaa,” Shane yelled from his place on the floor in their basement gym, too tired to will himself to stand to go get himself some more water. “Do you love me?”

“What kind of a stupid question is that?” The aforementioned man asked as he appeared at the top of their stairs, looking at Shane like he had grown two heads.

“I ran out of water,” Shane puffed from his place on the floor beside the rower, shaking his empty bottle at his husband. “I beat my personal best, but now I—”

“Forget how legs work?” Ilya huffed, clambering down the rest of the stairs and walking over to the water cooler four feet away to refill Shane’s bottle. “Is good thing you are cute, Shane. This is lazy, even for you.”

“I’m tiiiiiiired,” Shane whined, rolling over and simply collapsing face down instead of making any attempt at sitting up to actually take a sip of the bottle Ilya placed down beside his head.

“Why are you so annoyed anyway?” Shane continued two breaths later, mumbling his words into the mat beneath his cheek.

“I am watching Colorado versus Montreal game, it was just getting interesting!” Ilya noted with a frown. “If I miss someone getting punched, I am going to be so mad at you!”

“You need more hobbies,” Shane called out weakly as Ilya turned and ran back up the stairs two at a time, though he didn’t really mean it.

Not when the sex was so good when the Voyageurs lost.

FINAL SCORE:
COL - 4 | MTL - 3

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Columbus Hornets (January)

Dad ❤️

Dad ❤️ (8:15 PM):
Ilya, son.
You used to play with Michaels back in Boston didn’t you?

Ilya (8:28 PM):
Yes?
Why do you ask?

Dad ❤️ (8:31 PM):
No reason.
Was just wondering why he said “This one’s for Ilya!” on national television before punching Wilson in the face.

Ilya (8:33 PM):
…
Please don’t tell Shane.

Dad ❤️ (8:34 PM):
Oh Ilya.
Your secret is safe with me. Until he sees the replay of course 😉
You text that guy in Edmonton yet?
They play there next week don’t they?

Ilya (8:37 PM):
Dad!
Are you suggesting…that I ask an Edmonton player to punch a Voyageur??
Me??

Dad ❤️ (8:39 PM):
Not suggesting.
Just making sure you did it already.

Ilya (8:40 PM):
I did no such thing!!
…but only because Dray texted me first 🙈
You are best father ever ❤️

Dad ❤️ (8:42 PM):
Atta boy!
Love ya kiddo ❤️

Ilya (8:43 PM):
Love you too, Dad ❤️

FINAL SCORE:
CBH - 4 | MTL - 2

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Dallas Suns (March)

By March the Voyageurs had taken to debriefing before the game to discuss who to watch out for, which is why all 20 players who would be on the ice tonight were currently standing in a circle around the middle of the locker room.

“Okay, so no gay players?” Comeau asked, nodding his head once in acknowledgement when the others shook their heads.

“Any Russians?”

“Yes, but openly homophobic, so we should be good there,” Drapeau said after a brief pause. “Anyone on the coaching staff gay?”

“Not that we know of,” Wilson replied with a grimace. “And Pike’s out for a few weeks, so we shouldn’t have anyone going after him tonight for a change. Which just leaves Boiziau.”

“I don’t know anyone on the Suns who openly dislikes me,” JJ said tentatively, his face pulled down in a frown. “But with how this season has been going, I am sure there will be something that happens.”

“Bad news boys,” Benoit sighed just then as he pushed through the locker room doors, wincing as he bumped the door with his elbow. “Clarkson has a gay uncle and the captain’s sister-in-law is a lesbian.”

“There it is.”

FINAL SCORE:
DAL - 1 | MTL - 0

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Detroit Birds (November)

Shaney Boy

Hayden (5:45 PM):
Shane
Be honest man
How fucked are we for tonight?

Shane (5:52 PM):
What do you mean?

Hayden (5:54 PM):
Like half this team is Canadian??
U play with some of them, right?

Shane (5:55 PM):
You say this like you aren’t Canadian, Hayd

Hayden (5:56 PM):
Yeah, but I don’t get invited to these things Mr. Hot Shot

Shane (5:57 PM):
Yeah, cause you are too busy knocking Jackie up every few months to spend time practising

Hayden (6:00 PM):
Fuck you man
But actually
Anyone we should watch out for?

Shane (6:01 PM):
Guess that depends
You and Ilya annoy each other recently?
I think he used to play with some guys back on the Bears

Hayden (6:03 PM):
Ah fuck
Might as well just punch myself at this point
Save the league the trouble

Shane (6:04 PM):
Have fuuuuun! 😉

Hayden (6:06 PM):
I hate both of u so much

FINAL SCORE:
DET - 3 (OT) | MTL - 2

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Edmonton Aurora (January)

Because the league hated them, the Edmonton Aurora decided to wait to host their Pride Night until the Montreal Voyageurs were in town, which was made worse by the fact that the Auroras had two queer players on their team, one a gay player by the name of Hayes and the other a bisexual player named Dray.

Stepping onto the ice for warm-ups, Hayden and JJ both found themselves doing a quick head count of how many Aurora players had pride tape on their sticks, gulping audibly when both came to the same count of 20.

Full team support meant one thing, and one thing only—the Voyageurs were about to be destroyed.

“Howdy there Pike. Boiziau.” Turning their heads, both men watched as Dray took note of their sticks lovingly covered in pride tape, the only two players on the Voyageurs to have done so. “Awe. Isn’t that cute. Supporting your best friend are we?”

“You know we have no problem with gay people,” Hayden said placatingly, holding his hands up in front of his chest. “Live long and be gay or whatever the hell you guys say these days.”

“Mm,” Dray hummed, though his tone was anything but kind. “So you are okay with gay people, but not Ilya?”

“Is it so bad if we think that Shane could do better than that menace to society?” JJ found himself hissing through clenched teeth, paling when he saw the evil smirk spread across Dray’s cheeks, the Québécois man quick to anger and regretting his words instantly. He and Ilya had still never warmed up to each other, but even he knew he shouldn’t have said that. Not out loud anyways.

“Whelp. Rest in peace, buddy,” Hayden said unhelpfully as he patted JJ on the shoulder, leaving him to continue his stare down with the German man. “Was nice knowing you. I’ll say nice things at your funeral.”

And 45 minutes later when JJ was getting helped off the ice, the smile Dray shot him as he skated away from his hit was anything but kind.

FINAL SCORE:
EDM - 7 | MTL - 0

*****

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You received $10,000USD from IlyaRozanov81
Message: Love you bisexual king!

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Florida Rays (December)

After the third hit that sent his teeth chattering in his skull, Wilson had finally had enough.

“What the fuck is your problem??” He seethed as he grabbed the front of Matthews shirt, yanking the Florida captain towards himself and placing their faces directly in line with each other so he could glare into his soul. “I wasn’t anywhere fucking close to the puck that time you piece of shit.”

“Oh I’m the piece of shit?” Matthews scoffed, bringing his hands up and fisting the front of Wilson’s jersey in return, tugging uncomfortably on the fabric until Wilson’s shoulder pads were digging into his chest. “I’m not the one who ruined the season for the rest of us.”

“Dude, what the fuck are you talking about?? Is this about those fucking rainbow bitches?”

“Of course it is!” Matthews cried out angrily, shoving Wilson back against the glass with a loud ‘thud.’ “You couldn’t just fucking suck it up could you? Now gay one and gay two play on the same team and look how that’s going!”

“You’re more homophobic than I am!” Wilson countered in disbelief, punching his fist into Matthews stomach as the two began a skirmish against the boards. “How would you feel if there was a fucking rainbow in the showers with you when you were naked?”

“I’d shower separately you fucking idiot!” Matthews replied with a fist into the side of Wilson’s skull, knocking his helmet askew. “No one else stands a chance against them this season, they’ve won 21 games in a row! It’s a league record!”

“I’m aware, dumbass!” Shoving him back, Wilson gloated for two full seconds as his fist knocked Matthews back a full stride before the larger man was upon him, taking them down to the ice where he launched a barrage of fists upon Wilson’s head until the refs finally took mercy and pulled Matthews off.

“You’re just mad that Hollander never even checked your ugly ass out!” Matthews chirped as he was dragged away and sent down the tunnel to cool off with a 10-minute misconduct.

‘A reverse homophobic chirp,’ Wilson thought to himself as he was also forced off the ice, glowering the whole way at the ref who accompanied him. ‘Now I’ve really seen it all.’

FINAL SCORE:

FLA - 3 (OT) | MTL - 2

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Houston Drillers (March)

When Hayden got crushed into the boards in a game against the Houston Drillers late in the season—his shoulder twisting out of its socket during the impact—it wasn’t a cry of pain he released, but one of relief.

“Oh thank fuck, thank you man!”

“I—what?” Standing above him as Hayden slid down the width of the board, Houston’s Owens felt as his features morphed through several expressions quickly, looking at his teammates for assistance before centering his gaze back on the man on the ice in front of him as they all skated away, none of the other Voyageurs even bothering to come to Hayden’s aid.

“Seriously dude, I’ve never been happier to be hurt in my life,” Hayden continued, laughing with glee (and okay, maybe a little pain) as he processed the position of his shoulder. “I won’t be able to play for weeks, maybe not even for the rest of the season!”

“…and this is good….whyyyy?” Owens questioned, elongating the final letter, brows fully buried in his hairline with how high they were raised, gaze honing in on Hayden’s pupils, certain the other man must be concussed to be spouting such nonsense (though he did have to admit—perhaps his hit had been a little shady).

“Do you know what it’s been like being the one who accidentally outed Shane and Ilya??” Hayden forged on, completely ignorant of Owens' growing concern. “Everyone and their mother has spent the last several months trying to kill me and now they won’t be able to because I can’t play!!”

“Okay seriously, did you hit your head, Pike??”

“Nope!!” Hayden replied happily from where he sat, face spread in a grin. “Best day ever dude, I really owe you one!”

“Um…you’re welcome?”

FINAL SCORE
HOU - 5 | MTL - 2

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Los Angeles Crowns (December)

“Do you think we are safe tonight?” Comeau found himself whispering to Drapeau and Benoit where they sat in their stalls, the three looking around the room quickly to ensure no one else could hear them.

“Why?” Benoit whispered back, leaning in closer. “What are you thinking?”

“LA didn’t host a pride night this year,” Comeau informed the pair, watching their eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "There were only two teams that didn’t, us and them. That should mean we’re safe, right??”

“Maybe?” Drapeau whispered conspiratorially back. “But I thought the same for Florida and they were pissed we ran Hollander out of town to play with that fucking rainbow of his.”

“Man, that Ottawa team is so fucking gay, it’s sickening,” Benoit found himself saying, his face twisting with outright disgust. “I’m so glad he’s not in this fucking room anymore so I don’t have to worry about him checking out my dick!”

“What are you three talking about?” a voice called from the other side of the room, the three pulling back to make eye contact with Hayden and JJ who were watching them with amused expressions spread across their features.

“None of your business,” Benoit parroted back, though as he averted his gaze, he suddenly wondered if maybe they hadn’t been as quiet as they thought.

Three hours later, as the three sat back down in their stalls after a brutal game, the trio found themselves looking at each other in defeat.

“Definitely not safe.”

FINAL SCORE:
LAC - 5 | MTL - 1

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Minnesota Nomads (April)

Ilya changed the group name to Shane Said We Had to Play Nice

Ilya (6:41 PM):
🙂

Hayden (6:43 PM):
That’s somehow more terrifying than the good luck was…

Ilya (6:44 PM):
🙂🙂

JJ (6:46 PM):
Oh fuck, come on! What now??

Shane (6:47 PM):
Ilya.
Leave them alone to get ready for their game.

Ilya (6:48 PM):
I did not even say anything!

Hayden (6:49 PM):
But u could??
Why should we be scared tonight?
I already dislocated my shoulder and JJ had his nose broken
We’ve done our time!!

Ilya (6:51 PM):
🙂🙂🙂

JJ (6:52 PM):
Shane???

Shane (6:53 PM):
Sigh.
I’m sorry about him.
But…Coach Wilson’s son is gay.
He reached out to us this summer looking for some advice on how to be a supportive Dad.
Also, his team loves him.
So…you know.
Good luck.

Hayden (6:57 PM):
How long does it take for food poisoning to kick in??
Asking for a friend.

JJ (6:58 PM):
TABARNAK!
ALL I WANT
IS ONE GAME
JUST ONE
WHERE EVERYONE IS NOT TRYING TO KILL US!!

Shane (7:00 PM):
Not a word, Ilya.

Ilya (7:01 PM):
🙂🙂🙂🙂

Hayden (7:02 PM)
😭😭😭

JJ (7:03 PM):
See you in hell mon amis 🫡

FINAL SCORE
MIN - 7 | MTL - 1

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Nashville Singers (March)

Shane walked into their home late one night in March to find Ilya practically vibrating with glee on the couch, Anya tucked into his side as she so often was.

“Hello little pudding!” Ilya called out in Russian as he heard his husband enter the room, looking over his shoulder and sending Shane a dazzling smile.

“I know that one,” Shane huffed with a laugh. “I take it you want me to add pudding to the grocery list?”

“Ahhh, best husband ever,” Ilya beamed, patting the couch on the other side of him and cawing happily when Shane plopped down beside him and leaned over to give him a kiss.

“Want to explain to me why you look so happy considering the Voyageurs are currently winning?” Shane asked with a raised brow and an extremely bemused expression as he pulled back from Ilya’s lips, laughing as Ilya sat up more fully as if he was about to present at a show and tell.

“Yes, is unfortunate about score, but Shane, look!”

Pulling his phone out from thin air, Ilya quickly opened the screen, rewinding the video that was already there and placing his phone in Shane’s hands as he leaned into his embrace to watch with him. “Hit play, hit play!”

At first the play seemed innocent, Nashville passing the puck back and forth between each other in the Voyageurs end.

But when Drapeau turned away a shot on net, Shane watched as instead of collecting the puck, Nashville’s Morris took a swing at Montreal’s Couillard, a man who had sat beside Shane for years and who had hated every second.

“Holy shit,” Shane found himself gasping as both men dropped the gloves, an absolute heavy weight of a tilt as they threw punch after punch at each other, the in-game crowd so loud that Shane could hear it clear as day on the video.

“Is amazing, yes?” Ilya smiled as the pair watched Morris take Couillard down to the ice, the refs jumping in to separate them and Shane noting with some amount of glee the heavy amounts of blood on the latter man’s face.

“I don’t think we should be celebrating a player getting hurt,” Shane replied diplomatically, barely managing to hide his grin as Ilya looked at him in shock for two seconds before processing that Shane was yanking his chain, pulling the phone from his grasp and pouncing on him.

“No, we shouldn’t,” Ilya admitted between kisses. “Unless it’s against the Voyageurs. Then we cheer twice.”

FINAL SCORE:
MTL - 4 | NSH 2

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

New Jersey Shore (October)

“You know, what if I retire early?” Hayden said aloud to no one in particular as he watched the Jersey beat reporter on the TV in the away locker room making mention of the reddit post that had blown up the internet a few days prior, drawing particular emphasis to Hayden’s unfortunate role in the situation. “My kids don’t need to eat. They are all way too smart, I’m sure there’s a zoo somewhere that would take them.”

“Fuck you, Pike,” Wilson said from somewhere on the other side of the room, tossing a towel at Hayden’s face as he walked back to his stall. “You ain’t going anywhere. If we have to deal with this shit, you have to deal with this shit.”

“I was at least supportive!” Hayden defended, shooting a glare Wilson’s way, though there was no real heat to it.

“Uhhh, not really mon ami?” JJ scoffed from Hayden’s right. “Were you not the one who told Hollander multiple times that he could do better than Ilya Fucking Rozanov?”

“I stand by that statement for what it’s worth,” Hayden found himself sighing. “You lot only see him four times a year. He comes to my house!! My wife and kids love him more than me! AND I have to live with the knowledge that he fucks my best friend. I’m fine with Shane being a little fruity and everything, but Rozanov??”

“See?” JJ laughed. “Not supportive. You are just as much of an asshole as the rest of us.”

“I mean he’s not that bad,” Hayden found himself grumbling under his breath despite himself, not sure why he felt the need to even say anything. Not that he would ever let the others hear him say that though. He had a reputation to maintain after all.

FINAL SCORE:
MTL - 3 | NJS - 1

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

New York Admirals (November)

“Good evening, Hayden,” a deep voice said from behind him, Hayden gulping audibly before turning around, finding himself face-to-face with Scott Hunter and Carter Vaughn.

“Good to see you buddy,” Carter said with a smile that Hayden could only describe as predatory, the rest of the Admirals watching on with expressions that sent a shiver running down Hayden’s spine.

“Heyyyyy guys,” Hayden tried for friendly, glancing over at JJ who was stretching by the benches, frantically gesturing him over behind his back, watching JJ drop his head against his chest before he sighed in defeat and rose to join the rest of them.

“Ahhh there he is!” Carter laughed, his feral grin somehow growing broader. “Man of the hour! How’s your season going, JJ?”

Chancing a look at each other, Hayden watched as JJ’s face morphed through a series of expressions ranging from defensive to angry before seemingly choosing the safer of the options and landing on the resigned look the Voyageurs had worn for most of the season to date.

“It’s great,” JJ replied sardonically, if not a little nasally as his nose had still not fully healed. “How about you guys?”

“It’s great!” Carter parroted far more enthusiastically than Hayden felt the conversation warranted. “We’re first in the division currently, all our lines are playing well, and all the guys have each other’s backs in the locker room. You know what that’s like, don’t you, JJ?”

“Listen here sale petit con,” JJ hissed, sliding towards Carter who only smiled more broadly and tilted his head back to maintain JJ’s gaze. “You, of everyone, should know that I have apologized for this a million times over! Or were we not both at the same wedding this summer?”

“Seems like you still have a few apologies to go then,” Scott mused from where he stood with both hands on top of his stick, his posture relaxed, though his gaze was sharp. “Speaking from experience, support in the locker room can go a long way.”

“Tabarnak! Am I going to have to pay for this for the rest of my career??”

“Maybe not the rest of your career,” Carter said almost thoughtfully, though the rest of them knew he was mocking JJ by his tone. “But this is the first time we’ve seen you this season and we’re actually rather fond of Shane and Ilya. So for tonight—absolutely.”

“Come on, JJ, don’t worry!” Scott added as he and Carter began to angle their bodies away and skate back to the Admirals end of the ice. “Big strong guy like you? You should be fine!”

But when Scott slammed JJ into the boards an hour later, sending his brain rattling with the force, it was with a whispered “that one, was for me.”

And if Carter “accidentally” hit JJ directly in the nose following a scrum in the corner, well, how could you really blame him?

FINAL SCORE:
NYA - 8 | MTL - 0

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Philadelphia Cheeses (January)

Violence wasn’t the answer.

Really, it wasn’t.

It was why Shane only had a singular fight his entire playing career because he’d rather win fights with goals than with fists.

Shane didn’t condone violence.

Unless, apparently, it was against the Montreal Voyageurs he was learning.

The Centaurs were on the road and the guys had given Shane and Ilya enough shit about always avoiding team dinners so they could explore each other instead that they had (begrudgingly) agreed to go to a sports bar as a team to watch what was happening around all the different leagues.

And of course because the universe hated Shane—or loved Ilya—the game on the big screen that night was that of the Voyageurs versus the Cheeses, live from good ol’ Philadelphia.

Shane hadn’t paid much attention at first, more engrossed in a conversation about books with some of the others who he had formed a quasi-book club with at the start of the season.

Which is why Shane originally missed the sign that was placed along the glass in Philly until Zane and Ilya began collectively losing their shit.

“What on earth is going on over here??” Shane found himself asking, eyes locked on Ilya who had one arm wrapped around Zane, the other nursing a beer, and both legs jumping in time with the man in his grasp as they cheered in absolute elation at what was on the screen.

Realizing he was unlikely to get an answer from his husband, Shane turned his eyes to the screen alongside Wyatt, waiting to understand the joke since all he saw was Hockey Night in Canada’s regular panel.

That was, until the camera flicked back to the ice and Shane saw the bright yellow sign pressed against the glass that was being acknowledged by the Philly players that sent a shiver of anticipation running down his spine.

“🧀 Do it for the gays 👊🌈”

Oh god.

“This is going to be such a long 2.5 hours,” Shane said aloud to no one in particular, huffing a deep sigh as the team split into two—those who were content to relax, and those who wanted to watch the spectacle.

Surprising no one, Shane was the only one who chose the former.

“Shane, get over here!” Ilya hissed when he realized, reaching across the table and yanking Shane to the end where he could better manhandle him into the position he wanted by his side, Shane putting up a fight, but only to be a little shit and not because he had any reservations about being closer to his husband.

And when the first punch was thrown and a full out line brawl stopped the play 24 seconds into the game, Shane resigned himself to a very long night of his team deafening themselves and all the other patrons of the bar with their raucous cheers, and an extra long night of Ilya fucking him into the mattress so hard he could barely remember his own name.

He had never been more excited.

FINAL SCORE:
PHI - 4 | MTL - 0

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Pittsburgh Steelheads (January)

Marly ❤️

Ilya (7:29 PM):
Do we know anyone who plays for Pittsburgh?

Marly ❤️ (7:31 PM)
Ya bud
Jamieson does
Left Boston in the summer, remember?

Ilya (7:33 PM):
Yes!
Excellent. You still have his number?

Marly ❤️ (7:36 PM)
Don’t worry, Rozy
Already texted him
Anyone in particular you have in mind tonight?

Ilya (7:38 PM):
I heard through grapevine that Benoit is saying not nice things about my husband and Harris.
I would like him to reconsider his words.

Marly ❤️ (7:40 PM)
You got it cap
He just answered
Says to turn the game on

Ilya (7:41 PM):
Already watching 😈

Marly ❤️ (7:42 PM)
😈

FINAL SCORE:
PIT - 6 | MTL - 4

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

San Francisco Mission (March)

“Really?” Shane asked Ilya as he looked over at his husband in the passenger seat and saw the NHL app open on his phone, Ilya monitoring the San Francisco vs. Voyageurs game based on the smile that was currently spread across the Russian man’s features.

“What?” Ilya replied cheekily. “You told me to get a hobby.”

“I meant like running or knitting or something, not monitoring the demise of the Montreal Voyageurs!” Shane replied with an errant flick of his hand, his voice rife with exasperation, though his eyes were fond when he and Ilya made eye contact a moment later.

“But you do want to know what the score is still, right?” Ilya started cautiously a few minutes later, full on giggling with excitement when Shane turned to him with a smile and a shake of his head and lovingly told him to go ahead.

“Okay, so! So far, Benoit has gotten a penalty, as has Wilson, while Peters on the Mission got—”

FINAL SCORE:
SFM - 4 | MTL - 2

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Seattle Squids (March)

“Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” Hayden found himself asking as he entered the locker room, dropping his bag into his stall before removing his winter jacket and outer layers to begin prepping for tonight’s home game.

“Did you forget who we are playing, man?” Clark retorted, the man a call up from the AHL to replace McLeod after Shane broke his jaw, staying up in the NHL due to the plethora of injured players on the Voyageurs roster currently. Needless to say, it wasn’t how he had expected his first season in the NHL to go, not with being an unwilling victim of the Great Voyageur Uprising.

“Okay? And?” Hayden pressed, pulling his shirt over his head and missing the incredulous look the other sent his way.

“I don’t know man, did you forget that their captain is gay?”

Stilling with his shirt partway over his head at the implications, Hayden stopped to ponder this revelation, dropping his head forward and banging it once, twice, three times against the edge of his locker’s shelf before shifting to pull his shirt fully over and across his torso.

“Okay, but seriously,” he started, casting a concerned look at his stall mates who both wore similar expressions to his own. “Why are so many captains in this sport fucking gay??”

FINAL SCORE:
SEA - 6 (SO) | MTL - 5

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

St. Louis Arches (November)

“We should put on the game,” Ilya said casually as he picked up the TV remote, ignoring the eye roll from his husband and the smiles that pulled across Yuna and David’s cheeks.

“And what game would that be sweetie?” Yuna teased, laughing outright when Ilya turned and stuck his tongue out at her, though he made no move to stop what he had been doing.

“Don’t encourage him Mom,” Shane whined from where he sat at the table with David, Yuna rounding the island with the box of Yahtzee that she had gone to collect from the other room.

“How is this not the perfect night?” Ilya asked his husband, turning to face him fully. “Dinner with our parents, Yahtzee battle, and we get to watch the Voyageurs have very bad time. Is that not the dream, Shane??”

Huffing a laugh, Shane had to admit that his husband was right because that did sound pretty good. But he wasn’t ever going to tell him that, he was cocky enough as it is.

“So which player did you assign to beat up a Voyageur tonight, son?” David asked.

“Dad!” Ilya shouted in disbelief at the same time Shane yelled “Ilya!”

“Who’s side are you on??” Ilya questioned, his face morphing through expressions as Shane stood and strode towards him, very quickly resulting in the two running out the front door as Shane chased Ilya down the street.

“Really sweetheart?” Yuna laughed, shaking her head fondly at the shouts that could be heard fading in the distance.

“What?” David replied innocently, his cheeks stretching in a grin. “They needed to burn off some energy! And now we can watch the game for a few minutes without those two adding their commentary every four seconds.”

FINAL SCORE:
SLA - 3 (SO) | MTL - 2

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Tampa Bay Thunder (December)

“What do you think is worse?” Hayden asked JJ as they sat recovering in their stalls after a brutal first period against Tampa Bay in which the Voyageurs had only managed a single shot on net in 20 minutes of play time. “The games against teams who have queer players or the games against teams who are homophobic? Cause right now, I’m leaning towards the homophobic ones.”

Glaring at Hayden with a rapidly darkening left eye, JJ sighed as he dropped his head back against the back of the stall.

‘Mon ami, my least favourite games currently are the ones where I am playing,” JJ sighed dramatically. “But without a doubt the homophobic teams. The gay teams just like to score a lot. The homophobic teams use their fists.”

“Yeah,” Hayden winced, groaning as he pushed on the ribs he had taken several punches to just minutes earlier. “Only Shane and Ilya could make even the most homophobic teams mad at us for being homophobic. I mean, make that make sense, what kind of reverse bullshit is that?”

“Don’t forget we still have two periods to go,” JJ replied, his voice laced with trepidation and discomfort. “At this rate, we won’t even make it to the third period!”

They did, for what it was worth. But barely.

FINAL SCORE:
TBT - 3 | MTL - 2

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Toronto Guardians (November)

Mama Yuna ❤️

Ilya (5:11 PM):
Mama Yuna
Are you still coming to the game tonight?

Mama Yuna ❤️ (5:17 PM):
Of course, sweetie.
I’m really looking forward to getting to talk to your friend more tonight.
We didn’t get much time at the wedding.

Ilya (5:19 PM):
Yes. Svetlana is looking forward to it too.
I am so happy we are all in town at the same time.
Shane is being weird about going to the Toronto game.
But Sveta and I always did this when we saw each other growing up.
Feels like old times.

Mama Yuna ❤️ (5:21 PM):
I’m just so excited to spend the night with my boys.
Always makes me so happy that you are okay with being seen in public with me.
And we both know, Ilya sweetie, that Shane is not upset about it being a Toronto game.

Ilya (5:24 PM):
Yes. He is upset that they are playing the Voyageurs.
But it will be good for him to be there and for people to see him being the bigger person.
I know that he worries about that.

Mama Yuna ❤️ (5:26 PM):
You have handled this all so well these last few weeks, Ilya.
I always used to worry about who my son would end up marrying, especially when David and I started to wonder if he was gay.
But I am so glad that it was you.
Love you sweetie ❤️

Ilya (5:28 PM):
Love you Mama Yuna ❤️
My old teammate, Ryan Price, texted me last night.
He does not follow hockey anymore, but his husband Fabian told him about what happened.
I think Ryan might have texted some of his teammates to tell them to give Montreal trouble.
I hope this game for Shane is…therapy but longer version?

Mama Yuna ❤️ (5:30 PM):
Therapeutic I think you mean.
And oh?
Make sure to thank Ryan for me then.
I hope the Guardians destroy them tonight.

Ilya (5:32 PM):
Is still so weird to know you hate Montreal now.
Shane was worried you would not be able to stop being a fan.

Mama Yuna ❤️ (5:34 PM):
Of course I can!
Don’t fuck with my kids.
See you soon, sweetie.

FINAL SCORE:
TOR - 5 | MTL - 3

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Vancouver Orcas (January)

“Did you forget about me now that you have a handsome husband, Iliusha?” Svetlana started as soon as Ilya answered the phone, bringing a smile to the latter’s face.

“Never,” Ilya answered honestly, not realizing how much he had missed speaking Russian until he had slipped back into his mother tongue, the words easily flowing from his lips. The only time he spoke Russian these days was with Galina.

“Then why do you never call me anymore, you asshole?” Svetlana pressed, stopping in the middle of her living room as she watched the Orcas captain take a swing at Montreal’s, the pair going at it as the other players stood back and watched.

“I have been bad at checking in,” Ilya admitted softly, rolling out of his and Shane’s bed and leaving his husband sleeping as he padded to the living room. “Tell me about you, Sveta. I want to hear all of the things.”

“No, you can start by telling me how many of these fights against the Voyageurs have been orchestrated by you,” Svetlana teased, and as Ilya launched into a detailed story, she could hear the pride and happiness radiating from his tone as he told her about everything he had done to get back at the team who had so badly hurt his husband.

FINAL SCORE:
VAN - 3 (OT) | MTL - 2

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Washington Warriors (December)

“Well Ryder, we’re back for the third period of the Warriors versus Voyageurs, and let me tell you, try saying that five times fast!”

“You’re right, Bill, that’s definitely not easy to say, nor has this game been easy for either of these teams. Not a lot of high quality scoring chances this game with both teams spending the majority of their team fighting it out in the neutral zone. And when I mean fighting it out, I don’t mean with the puck.”

“That’s right, Ryder. These two teams historically don’t have much in the way of a rivalry. Sure they meet three times a year being in the same conference, but on any given night when they play each other, it’s usually pretty run of the mill stuff. But tonight we’ve seen not one, not two, but six separate instances of guys dropping the gloves. You’d wonder what caused it if it weren’t for this being a fairly regular occurrence this season against the Voyageurs.”

“Bill, you nailed it on the head. Following an exposé piece against the Voyageurs’ treatment of Canada’s Shane Hollander back in October, teams across the league have taken it upon themselves to get back at the Voyageurs for their mistreat—AND HERE WE GO, FIGHT NUMBER SEVEN BETWEEN YOUR WASHINGTON WARRIORS AND THE VISITING MONTREAL VOYAGEURS, AND BOY DOES THIS ONE SEEM TO BE A DOOZY!”

FINAL SCORE:
WSH - 1 | MTL - 0

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Winnipeg Ice (March)

“You know, honey. I have never been happier to be sitting beside you having dinner,” Hayden said wistfully from where he and Jackie sat at their table, two candles the only form of light between them as they shared a rare child-free dinner together during the season.

“You are the only person I know who would be happy to dislocate his shoulder,” Jackie replied with a soft huff, her smile fond as she looked on at her husband, eyes drifting to the cast that held his shoulder in place.

“This season has been brutal,” Hayden admitted quietly, reaching out with his good hand and interlocking his fingers with hers. “And the crazy part is, I’ve probably had the least injuries out of everyone if you can believe that!”

“You can thank Ilya for that,” Jackie smiled, her expression quickly turning amused when Hayden let out an affronted gasp.

“I think you mean I have Ilya to thank for egging on half the league you mean!” Hayden cried out dramatically, his brows barely still on his forehead from how high they were raised.

“I mean, yes,” Jackie admitted with another laugh, though her eyes betrayed her true emotions. “But if Ilya was egging everyone on, how are you only getting hurt in March darling?”

“I—” Stopping to consider these implications, a dawning realization began to creep across the recesses of Hayden’s mind, slowly building in strength as his mind flashed back over the games across this season and all the players who had seemingly been targeted, though somehow never him.

“Holy shit he was protecting me!” Hayden whispered, his mouth agape in shock. “Now that you mention it, I’m pretty sure I’m the only player on the Voyageurs who didn’t get punched more than once this season.”

“Yes,” Jackie laughed more fully, her smile wide. “I asked him about it when they were here last. He told me that part of him wanted to get back at you, but he knew it would make Shane sad and we both know that there’s nothing that man wants to do less than make his husband sad.”

“That’s…weirdly nice,” Hayden said eventually, testing out the words carefully, though they felt like acid on his tongue.

“That and he didn’t want to have to explain to the kids why their Dad had a black eye,” Jackie added a moment later, giggling at the unimpressed look Hayden shot her way.

“Now that makes more sense. Though I will admit, seeing the score currently and the number of penalties, I'm kind of glad I got knocked out for the season, even if it wasn’t Ilya who planned it.”

FINAL SCORE:
WPG - 5 | MTL - 2

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Ottawa Centaurs - Game #1: Shane Edition (October)

“Shane, tonight you had your first real hockey fight where you actually dropped your gloves with an opponent. What happened on the ice for you to break your 13 year no fighting streak?”

Laughing as he looked down to try to cover the flush that warmed his cheeks, Shane took a few deep breaths before raising his head and looking at the reporter in question.

“I think I’m a pretty level-headed guy,” Shane started, smiling again at the chuckles that pulled from the gaggle of reporters currently standing around him. “But I think even I have my limits. Ilya and I have always said we wouldn’t let our off-ice relationship affect our performance on the ice, but I also think as players that we shouldn’t tolerate when a guy crosses the line. You all know me, so I think my behaviour across my career speaks for itself, but also…”

“Also?” The man pushed once more, brow raised with curiosity.

“That’s my fucking husband,” Shane answered with a smile, his grin growing broader at the cheers that could be heard at the back of the room from the rest of his team who Harris had unsuccessfully managed to kick out, Shane not even caring that he had broken his own no swearing rule as he was still riding on a high from the game. “Now that you all know that we’re together, we don’t have to hide anymore. I didn’t appreciate what McLeod had to say, so I let him know. Simple as that.”

“Would you do it again?” Another reporter asked, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

“Uhhh, I think I’ll leave the fighting to Ilya,” Shane laughed, looking back down at his split knuckle as a wave of embarrassment washed over him before continuing. “But…I’m also willing to defend my husband and our relationship. Hopefully it doesn’t come to that, but what kind of husband would I be if I let someone cross the line and didn’t do anything about it?”

“Still a good one!” Ilya shouted from somewhere near the back of the room, and as the room erupted into laughter, Shane was glad that of all the men he could marry, he had gotten lucky enough to end up with this one.

FINAL SCORE:
OTT - 7 | MTL - 0

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Ottawa Centaurs - Game #2: Troy Edition (December)

Troy was fairly certain that he was possessed.

Or angry. Or really fucking gay. Probably all of the above.

As the puck connected with his stick as he and Ilya entered Montreal’s zone, Troy faked a pass back to Ilya, instead burying the puck over the shoulder of Montreal’s back-up goalie and skating away without celebration, plopping himself down on the end of Ottawa’s bench as he and the second line switched out.

“What is up with you?” Ilya questioned a moment later, shoving Troy down the bench so he and Zane could sit down beside him. “You do not celebrate with your team after goals now?”

Throwing an unimpressed glare Ilya’s way, Troy seethed in silence for a few long seconds, noting out of the corner of his eye that both Ilya and Zane still had their eyes trained on him, though neither man made any move to push him to answer until he was ready.

“That Benoit guy,” Troy eventually began between gritted teeth, barely suppressing a growl when he felt the presence of Coach Wiebe get closer behind him, the older man very obviously listening in. “He made…”

“He made comment about Harris??” Ilya gasped, filling in the unspoken words as he processed Troy’s expression. “Our Harris?? Harris who brings us puppies and makes you happy?? That Harris?”

“What the fuck did he say, man?” Zane asked from beside Ilya, leaning forward so he was practically in Ilya’s lap. “I’ll fucking kill him, Troy. Just say the word.”

“Score some goals first, please,” Coach Wiebe said from behind the trio, all three jumping in surprise, having forgotten he was listening in. “I give you full permission to bash his face in, Troy, but get even first and leave the fighting until we have a bigger gap than one nothing, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Troy replied sullenly, shooting a glare at Montreal’s bench. “I want to make these fuckers suffer. I’m not even going to repeat what he said because I refuse to let those words enter my mouth when it comes to the man I love, but I need you two to pass me the puck every chance we get because I’m not leaving this arena until I’ve gotten a hat trick and Benoit is bleeding.”

“Consider it done, Barrett,” Ilya answered dangerously from Troy’s left, the younger man turning to make eye contact and seeing the resolution on both he and Zane’s faces, hearing rather than seeing as word about what had transpired was passed down the rest of the bench. “I assume we leave Benoit for you, yes?”

“Yes,” Troy spat, turning to look down the rest of the bench and making eye contact with Shane who was just returning to the bench, his gaze sharpening as Evan quickly filled him in. “Benoit is mine.”

Several goals later and a quick nod from Coach Wiebe after Troy secured his hat trick, Troy smiled cruelly as he and Benoit lined up across from each other at center ice.

“When the puck drops, I am going to drop my gloves and make you regret ever mentioning my partner,” Troy informed the other with barely contained venom, seeing Benoit’s gaze shift into an expression of open hatred. “And when I’m done with you, you’ll regret even learning his name.”

When the puck dropped right after, Benoit had barely gotten his gloves off before Troy launched himself at the taller man, breaking his nose, knocking out several of his teeth, and likely leaving him with a concussion as he released all 2.5 hours of pent up rage that he had been storing inside him upon Benoit’s ugly face.

And when he got a 2-game suspension for unsportsmanlike behaviour, Harris kindly took off a week’s vacation so the two could “think about Troy’s actions,” while they ate the cake and drank the champagne that the rest of the team had sent them to celebrate.

FINAL SCORE:
OTT - 9 | MTL - 0

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Ottawa Centaurs - Game #3: Ilya Edition (January)

At this exact moment in time, there were exactly three things that Ilya loved.

#1: His very sexy husband, Shane Hollander.
#2: The very loud sold out home crowd.
#3: The absolute fear he could see reflected on the faces of each Voyageur he made eye contact with.

The game had been brutal—fight after fight after fight, penalty after penalty after penalty—the hatred even more fierce than it had been before their game in December.

And through it all, Wyatt had yet to allow a single goal, a brick wall in front of the Centaurs net, his grin absolutely blinding behind his mask whenever a Voyageur came near.

As he bent down to take the face-off, Troy and Zane on either side of him, Ilya’s eyes gleamed as he made eye contact with Montreal’s resident enforcer, Reaves, a man Ilya had dropped the gloves with on more than one occasion across his career.

But tonight Reaves seemed hell bent on getting a reaction out of him, and Ilya was enjoying watching the other man get more and more riled up with each barb he threw at him that Ilya took in stride.

“You get down on your knees for that little bitch of yours?” Reaves taunted, frowning when Ilya barked out a genuine laugh of glee.

“Is one of my favourite things to do, Reaves. I would say you should try it, but no man or woman in their right mind would go anywhere near you with ten foot pole, so you must be out of luck.”

When the puck dropped, Ilya easily won the face-off, skating into Montreal’s zone and promptly burying the puck in the back of the net behind Drapeau.

“Thank you for the motivation to score,” he whispered in Reaves’ ear as he skated around him to head back to his team to celebrate. “Nothing gets me going more than thinking of my husband.”

For the next period, Reaves was quiet, though Ilya could tell that his little pea brain was scrambling to come up with a new barb.

But it wasn’t until late in the third period that he showed his hand to Ilya’s absolute delight.

“What’s it like having a leash around your neck, Rozanov? You still let that bitch of yours walk you like a dog?”

And without hesitation—and despite the dangerous glint that flashed in his eyes—Ilya answered easily.

“It’s very nice. Premium leather. Best of the best.”

He scored 12 seconds later.

Then he got a game misconduct and a raucous cheer from the home crowd when he broke Reaves’ nose.

Worth it.

FINAL SCORE
OTT - 6 | MTL - 0

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Ottawa Centaurs - Game #4: Wyatt Edition (April)

Wyatt was bored.

In the final game of the season, Ottawa and Montreal were once again meeting in Montreal, but this time the crowd was cheering not for the Voyageurs, but for Shane Hollander specifically.

“Holl-an-der!” chants had been going all night, and said man’s husband was obviously getting off on it based on how many goals he had single-handedly scored, just having secured a hat trick a few minutes earlier, with Shane having gotten his own immediately thereafter.

Which was all to say that Wyatt was bored, because the teams had barely spent any time in Ottawa’s zone at all. In fact, looking up at the scoreboard above his head, Wyatt noted that there had only been 11 shots total from a very uninspired Voyageurs team, and not one of those shots had been anything remotely worth worrying about.

Which brought Wyatt back to his original conundrum. Good thing he got paid so much to do so little, because otherwise this game wouldn’t even be worth it.

Watching as Troy, Ilya and Zane jumped back on the ice to terrorize the Voyageurs, Wyatt laughed as Ilya very obviously threw a chirp Drapeau’s way, his jaw dropping in surprise when instead of getting into position, Drapeau raised his stick and speared Ilya the second the play started, the Ottawa captain dropping to the ice in pain as the others froze in surprise.

It couldn’t have been more than a second before the remaining Centaurs launched into action as a full out scrum ignited around Drapeau. But as Wyatt watched on, he realized one very important thing: He had complete free will, and there were only 2 minutes left in the game.

Jumping with excitement as he pulled his helmet off and left it on the top of the net, Wyatt found himself dropping his gloves and skating down the ice with speed, the home crowd roaring in approval as he did, the Centaurs bench losing their minds as he neared the skirmish.

Just as he got there, he watched as Drapeau registered his presence, said man’s gaze going feral as he detached himself from where he had been choking out Ottawa’s right defencemen, beelining for Wyatt and not even bothering to say hello before he was throwing his fist out, Wyatt dodging the impact and throwing out a quick left jab, catching Drapeau full in the cheek and smirking at the ‘oomph’ that slipped through the other man’s lips unwillingly as he did.

“Gotta try harder than that,” Wyatt chirped, grasping Drapeau’s jersey in his right hand and pulling him closer as he wailed him with another punch, hissing slightly as Drapeau got a hit back in return, the pair spinning around in circles as they traded punches until suddenly Wyatt’s fist was catching the underside of the asshole’s jaw, sending him plummeting to the ice with a satisfying thunk, leaving Wyatt the undeniable victor.

“FUCK YEAH HAYESY!” was all Wyatt heard before the rest of his team was upon him, realizing belatedly that both benches had cleared and the ice surface had turned into an all out warzone, the pandemonium of the crowd so loud Wyatt couldn’t even hear himself think.

“FUCK THE MONTREAL VOYAGEURS!” He yelled over the din of the crowd. “TONIGHT WE SEND MONTREAL HOME CRYING!!”

And they did.

FINAL SCORE:
OTT - 8 | MTL - 0

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Help Former Voyageur Employee Cover His Bills
$312,800 raised of $300,000
12,184 donations

Hi everyone,

My name is Kaylee, and I am the sister to Mike Rhodes, the former Equipment Manager of the Montreal Voyageurs who bravely shared the truth about former Voyageurs Captain, Shane Hollander.

My brother was let go from his job without severance for writing that post, and he’s said to me that he’s worried how he’ll pay his bills until he finds a new job, though he doesn’t have any regrets in writing it.

Since the hockey community is being so kind to him, I just wanted to create this GoFundMe in case there are people out there who are in a position to help until he can land back on his feet.

Thank you so much from all of us in the Rhodes Family for even clicking on this link!

★ See Top Donations

☙ Shane & Ilya
$105,000 • 7h ago

☙ Hayden Pike
$10,500 • 6h ago

☙ Ottawa Centaurs
$10,000 • 5h ago

☙ Cliff Marlow
$8,100 • 4h ago

☙ JJ Boiziau
$2,400 • 3h ago

Notes:

I have been completely blown away by the support I've gotten from this community since I started posting in January and I just want to give my sincere thanks to each and every loon who has taken a few minutes out of their days to engage with my writing, leave kudos, comments, bookmarks, and all the other things. I am forever grateful to be able to share my writing with you all and to be so lovingly accepted in return x

This story in particular is one near and dear to my heart. I go to a LOT of hockey games as a Calgary Flames season ticket holder, and I imagine that's fairly obvious with how much hockey is written in here. Hopefully the hockey scenes added to the story and you all enjoy!

As always, I'd love to hear from you on what you thought of this, if there were any sections that stood out to you in particular, and anything else you wanted to share!! ❤️ I have a few favourite sections I wrote, but would love to know what yours are!

If you want to connect on socials, feel free to come say hi on Tumblr or on Threads! I'm definitely a lot more active on Threads, but feel free to connect wherever, I'm always happy to chat HR! Big love everyone x

Series this work belongs to:

← Previous Work Part 2 of Be Gay, Get Even

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