Puck'n'Roll | Shane & Ilya | Heated Rivalry

"You don't know what good joke is, Hollander."

Because somewhere between the pointe and Shane's quiet little breath, it stopped being about telling a good joke and turned more into a mission:

Make him smile.

Because Shane's freckles would always start to dance on his cheeks when he did. He hated how stupid it looked, and yet he couldn't stop himself from watching their performance every time. So instead of blowing raspberries again or calling him out for not finding his jokes funny, Ilya grinned and played along.

"Oh. So you want to spend time with me more."

It wasn't a question. More so a conclusion. Ilya nodded almost sarcastically, pursing his lips.

"Sounds really, really rough. If you want to spend time with me, you have to live with jokes. Is that easy. Maybeeee... I can tell jokes again and again until you don't even notice. Then you live and you are fine."

Ilya's grin widened and he leaned forward a little, resting his chin on his hand. He lowered his voice... Because the words that followed were only meant for Shane.

"Why are hockey players terrible at keeping secrets?" he asked, then whispered: "Because sooner or later... somebody gets checked."

Ilya winked at him, then took a swig from his beer bottle without looking away.

"No, no, no! You don't take back now! I heard what you said," he teased, his accent growing particularly thick with excitement. Sure, Ilya was teasing him about it, but only to conceal the sheer delight that little slip-up had sparked in him. Because the truth was, he wanted to spend more time with Hollander, too.

Was it dangerous? Sure. But the past week had been such a complete fuck-up that Ilya didn't have much room left in him to care about risks right now. He needed this. The distraction. The joy that Shane's dancing freckles brought him. The thrill — and danger — of showing up in public with him.

"I think you already decided what you want," he murmured quietly.

But what Ilya needed most right now was even simpler than all of that.

Shane's presence. His laugh.

And when Shane finally caved and snorted at that final, utterly stupid joke, Ilya clapped his hands and laughed his heart out right along with him. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen Hollander laugh that hard before.

"YES!" he cheered, patting him on the back. "I won, I won!"

Then he reached over the counter and stole a few of the bartender's paper napkins, handing them to Shane so he could clean himself up a little. That snort had been intense.

"Okey, okey, I'll stop now," he promised, still chuckling. "You laughed. That's all I wanted."

"...You know is not true," he murmured, making sure to keep his voice just as low as Shane's, accompanying his words with another wink. "I always get what I want."

He finished his beer but didn't order another one yet. Instead, he remained still, watching him with pursed lips, as though genuinely considering the question before asking it.

"What do you want, Hollander?"

Ilya had a feeling he already knew the answer, but since they were out in public, he was curious to see how Shane would respond this time.

"Is okay for you? Seeing each other in public?"

This was months after Shane had left him at Ilya's house. Months after that night at the club in Montreal. Months after the first paparazzi photos of Shane and Rose had been spread online. And just minutes after Shane had told him that he and Rose were 'not compatible'. 

Ilya thought he knew what that word meant but he wasn't completely sure. He would have to look it up later.

He didn't know what to say without saying things he probably shouldn't, so instead, Ilya tried to think of something else that might lift the mood.

"You want to win the game tomorrow and be smug about it to me, but it won't work this time because I win also. Right?" he mused, giving Shane another grin. "Has to be it. What else is there?" His grin turned softer then, silently hoping Shane understood why he'd changed the subject. Truly, Ilya was excited as hell about playing on the same team as Shane this time, but he had yet to decide if it was even more fun than playing against him.

"Ah, so discussing strategy is what we're doing here, yes?" he added, amused. "Okey, okey. I just think, you know, everyone should know about the strategy. Since we're a team. Unless there is strategy you only want me to know."

Once again, he winked.

He found himself appreciating Shane's presence more than the possibility of them hooking up later. Not that he would turn down the opportunity, if he was even going to get one... But something was different now. Instead of teasing Shane or looking for more ways to ragebait him, Ilya simply looked at him, slowly nodding along to his words. His attention drifted to the nervous fidgeting of Shane's fingers around his beer bottle, and something in his chest tightened.

The last thing Ilya wanted was to make him uncomfortable, and a part of him even wished he hadn't taunted him so relentlessly in the last five minutes. It may or may not have been his way of concealing his own nervousness, because his heart had been doing ridiculous things ever since Shane had stepped into the lobby. Especially when he'd shown up in that gorgeous white suit.

"Sounds like a really good plan," he agreed and drew a quiet breath. His gaze softened when he looked at him. "Is that what you want to do? To come up with a strategy first, just between us?"

He left the question hanging between them, this time without a smirk or some clever innuendo to undermine it. Shane could take the suggestive bait if he wanted to, but Ilya was giving him room to respond however he chose. No pressure. No assumptions about what tonight was supposed to become. Maybe, after all this time and all the complicated feelings they'd carried between them, they could finally sit down and talk about a strategy for themselves. Figure out what comes next.

And even if Shane just wanted to talk about actual hockey strategies... then Ilya was completely fine with that, too.

Meanwhile, his heart was racing inside his chest like a fucking ferrari and he was approximately two seconds away from bursting when Shane finally opened his mouth. But what was even harder than trying to play it cool while his chest was filling with dread, was trying to play it cool while his heart skipped a several dozen beats after Shane actually agreed to meet up in his room.

Ilya swallowed and breathed a smile despite himself. His eyes traced the way Shane's freckles danced on his cheeks when he gave him that coy, innocent smile. 

"Great," he said, still trying to act cool while his chest made his words tremble a little bit. "Yeah, um, same. I will wait."

I will wait.

Ilya usually never said something like this to him. If anything, he'd let Shane wait for him and make it more than obvious, but times have changed.

They were on the same team now, right? Why not celebrate it?

"Oh, wait, wait! One more thing."

He grinned mischievously.

"Why are corners of hockey rinks curved? Because if they were 90 degrees, the ice would melt."

And with that, he gave Shane a wink, anticipating their meeting later.