Skip & Hollanov fic outline
I am not a writer, if this sparks joy for anyone then go for it, free to a good home just please tag me.
-Game day, Boston vs New York 20 minutes to puck drop.
-He’s flown into Montreal, where NY is playing the next night, hoping to hang with his boyfriend Scott hunter
-Unfortunately, airline has lost his luggage and phone is gone/broken/dead, strange city little money no communication.
-Only phone number he has on him is Ilya’s, who gave it to him weeks ago after some league outing with the offer of support, just happens to be wearing the same jacket
-Kip calling Ilya in a panic, not sure what else to do, you said call if I need anything
-Ilya texts Shane, asks him if he can pick up Kip, look after him and put him up for a night in Montreal, they end up watching the Boston/NY game in their boyfriends jerseys and chatting (because Shane needs some queer friends, and Ilya knows this. Two birds one stone)
-Hunter realizes at some point during the game that Kip never texted when his plane landed, can’t be reached, OMG my boyfriend is missing, starts panicking.
-Ilya sees chaos on the other bench, has a decent idea what this might be about, has to try and subtlety explain to Scott that he knows where missing boyfriend is (he called me up, no this isn’t a chirp let go of my jersey you asshole.)
-Meanwhile Kip and Shane are painting each others nails and playing smash/pass, ignorant of their boyfriends hockey fight on TV in the background
-Ilya gets hold of Shane, stop being an asshole Scott and talk to your boyfriend, Kip sends selfie and Hunter is reassured, also chewed out by his boo for hitting Kip’s nice new Russian friend.
-Kip located, scott hunter bruised and sheepish, Ilya Rozanoff bruised and smug, awkward apology beer after the game
-Next night, NY plays in Montreal, Kip in the stands, decked out in Metro’s gear cause still no luggage
-Shane has a new friend and is quietly sassy about it (your boyfriend likes my team better, baby bird chirp) Hunter is long suffering and annoyed/grateful for these two closeted hockey punks