The second they get off the ice, Shane snarls "Fuck you" and slams Ilya against the nearest wall, one massive forearm braced high over his chest, so close to his throat. Ilya drops his stick and raises his hands in surrender, his mind (and his dick) racing back nearly ten years to a very similar situation. "You fucking asshole," Shane continues, through gritted teeth. "What the fuck was that?"
Behind them, the worried Centaurs slow to a stop. Ilya doesn't dare look; drawing any attention to them will remind Shane they have an audience and break the moment. "Me being good captain," he retorts. "You were playing like shit."
"I was fine," he insists, accenting his words with more pressure against Ilya's body.
Ilya's eyes narrow. "You were scared," he shoots back. He struggles under Shane's arm, not hard enough to break free, but enough to give him the fight he clearly wants. "Were too busy thinking about before. Montreal is not Ottawa. Will not happen here."
"Then fucking act like it." Now he does shove Shane off him, only to grab a fistful of his jersey and haul him back in. Outside his field of view, Bood starts to step forward, but Troy holds out an arm and shakes his head.
"You are on my team now," Ilya says. "We know who you are. I will not settle for anything less than Shane fucking Hollander. If he does not show, I will find him. I do not care what I have to do." He raises his eyebrows. "Got it?"
Shane glares at him for a few tense seconds. Then he deflates. "Yeah, yeah, I got it."
"You promise? No more scared rookie shit?"
Shane looks away, mumbling something under his breath. Ilya shakes him. "I can't hear you, Hollander."
"Jesus, fine, I promise! No more scared rookie shit, fuck!"
Ilya nods and lets him go before he's finished speaking. "Good," he says, making sure to relax his posture before knocking their helmets together. "I love you."
"Issokay." Ilya retrieves his stick and grins at Shane. "Good thing I know you so well, yes?"
Shane cracks a smile. "Maybe a little too well."
"Never," he declares. He gives the assembled Centaurs a nod, then slings his arm around Shane's shoulders and starts off down the hall. "I didn't hurt you too badly, yes?"
"Nah, you're good. I didn't..."
Their voices trail off as they move away. The Centaurs look at one another. Still fucking weird, but maybe it'll be alright after all.