12:30 left in the 2nd period and Ottawa was up by 2 to Edmonton in their barn. Ilya had just finished his shift and glided to the bench, almost launching himself through the door and slamming it behind him. "FUCK!"
"Alright, calm down now." Dykstra shushes him as he gets shoved by Ilya's shoulder when he sits down.
"Fucking Winters! Getting in my fucking way. Grobanyy kusok der'ma." He spits over the boards like he was cursing the Edmonton players name and his spit was holy water.
"Want me to-" Dykstra points to his own chest with his gloved hand but Ilya shakes his head.
"No, I got it. Just need to try something different..." His eyes tracked Shawn Winter’s as he dashed around on the ice, zooming back and forth as the puck danced over the ice like the snitch in a quidditch game. As if on queue, Shane stole the puck from another player and shot it back to their zone, allowing his line to swap out this time. He glided to the bench.
“...kin’ Winters.” Shane grumbled as his voice got closer to Ilya’s ears.
“Ah, not just me then?” Ilya called to him where he received a grin back. It was a frustrated grin, but a grin nonetheless.
“He can fuck right off.” Shane continued and he sat down, 3 players down from Ilya. Ilya leaned forward to yell over to Shane.
“I’ll do something about it. Don’t worry, moy lyubov.”
Shane squirted some water into his mouth, “Don’t do anything stupid. Last thing we need is you out on a misconduct.”
Ilya winked back just in time for Edmonton to score a goal on Hayes and the arena jumped up and exploded in celebration. The entire Centaurs team groaned.
“We’re still up by one boy’s, let’s not let them get past any more!” Wiebe yelled from behind them, clapping his hands to get their attention. He bumped Ilya on the top of the helmet, “Rozanov, you know what to do.”
“Let’s switch it up too. Hollander, get out there with him.”
Shane looked back at him confused, “We’re both center’s Coach?”
Wiebe nodded, “You two are smart, you’ll figure it out. Just get Winter’s off our asses and score a goal!”
Shane nodded once and swung his legs over the boards. As soon as his skates hit the ice, the arena erupted into boo’s. Ilya skated backward in front of him, laughing. “They hate this! I love it. Let’s go!” The two of them bumped helmets and went to centre ice. Ilya took the faceoff, Shane stood to his right, shoulder to shoulder with another Edmonton player, Charlie Smith.
“Hollander and Rozanov on the ice together?” Smith chirped almost immediately, “Try not to suck face while you’re out here.”
“Fuck off, Smith.” Shane snapped back.
“What? I’d be distracted too if there was hot ass tail not even 20 feet away from me. But of course, mine is-”
He didn’t get out the last half of the sentence before Shane had him knocked on his ass and was gearing up to give him a good right hook before the refs blew their whistle. He tossed his gloves and grabbed Smith’s jersey, pulling him closer and clocking him right in the cheek.
Ilya wanted to get in there and help him, but Shane honestly looked like he was holding his ground pretty well. Smith was getting him good swings in, too. Mostly into Shane’s helmet, but they were good hits.
Until one knocked his helmet off and he got slammed right in the chin. His head snapped to the right and Ilya swore he saw a splash of blood fly through the air. Two more swings and Shane was on his knees and the refs cut in and split them up. The crowd started clapping.
As Smith was pulled away to the penalty box, Shane stayed there on the ice, breathing hard on his hands and knees. Ilya skated over, dropping his stick on the way.
“Shane! Shane, you okay?” He kneeled down beside him. Shane’s eyes were closed tightly and his lips were parted, trying to get as much air in as he can after exuding himself like that for probably the first time. “Zhizn' moya?”
Shane spit and another splash of blood hit the ice, “I’m good, I’m good.” he nodded his head, but to Ilya he didn’t sound right. He furrowed his brows.
Shane lifted his pained gaze to Ilya, his mouth still open and blood was dripping off his lips and down his chin.
Shane attempted a painful smile, and Ilya couldn’t help but smile himself. Within those perfectly white teeth was a missing incisor, now adding a black void in the row of straight chicklets.
“You’re gonna get visit from tooth феи tonight.” He chuckled. Shane hung his head and sputtered a laugh.
Ilya helped him up and they skated back to the bench. Shane now may be one tooth down, but his eye got a good clubbing so ice was needed, pronto.
“Look at that, boys! Baby lost his first tooth!” Ilya called, holding Shane’s hand up like he won a wrestling match and he was the champion. The team cheered.
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