Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories:

M/M, Gen

Fandom:

Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types

Relationships:

Scott Hunter/Kip Grady, offscreen Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Kip Grady & Shane Hollander & Scott Hunter, Kip Grady & Shane Hollander

Characters:

Kip Grady, Scott Hunter, Shane Hollander, Original Female Character(s), Janine is the Director of Partnerships for the Admirals and she is here for 30 seconds

Additional Tags:

Fan edits, Social Media, video edits, Title from a Marianas Trench Song, Based on a Marianas Trench Song, I didn't realize those were common enough things to have official tags?, Thirst Edits, Scott Hunter Fan!Shane Hollander, let's be so for real, that boy had a crush, not tagging it as a relationship because this is just Shane showing Kip a viral fan edit but come on, he wasn't watching it to study the hockey involved, POV Kip Grady, Kip Grady loves Scott Hunter, Kip Grady & Shane Hollander Friendship, Autistic Shane Hollander, autistic author too!

Language:

English

Series:

Part 4 of HR surprises/reveals

Stats:

Published: 2026-08-05 Words: 3,130 Chapters: 1/1

Desperate Measures (Please)

Summary

A conversation at a fancy sponsorship event leads to Shane showing Kip an old viral thirst edit of Scott that he definitely only saw because it was so popular. He never looked for it on purpose, or anything. Don't ask how he found it again so fast. And Kip is NEVER allowed to tell Scott that Shane's the one who showed it to him, okay?

Notes

I've had Desperate Measures stuck in my head for a month, my brain is making everything about HR, and the blowjob line was low-hanging fruit. Could be considered in the same universe as Life Is A Nightmare, but no knowledge of that needed.

Don't take this too seriously. I had to cut the tag "imagine being a teenager having a sexuality crisis and THAT MAN was on the ice and then you met him and he was CONFIDENT and COOL and NICE TO YOU??? COME ON. Shane didn't stand a chance" because it was too long. this is homophobia and also censorship.

Behold! Can I say I'm "back on my bullshit" if I never left it in the first place?

Enjoyyyyyy

Almost an entire season after coming out with Scott, Kip was fairly used to fancy hockey events. He knew how to behave, who to seek out, who it was relatively safe to talk to, and who he needed to avoid. Luckily, at this point, the first two categories outnumbered the third. The people who he could count on if he needed backup from any of the douchebags included all of the Admirals, and he even knew all of their names by now! Most people in the room would at least be professional, even if it was clear that they’d never encountered a Real Life Gay before and had no clue how to talk to him. The people he needed to avoid usually avoided him back, and he and Scott tended to leave for the evening before they got drunk enough to think picking a fight was a good idea. The events were never actually fun, but Kip could put on a tux that cost several months’ rent and be a smiling piece of diversity arm candy for the evening without wanting to pull his hair out too badly. 

This event—some sort of celebration of league sponsorships, so it was important for the Captain of the New York Admirals to make the rounds and shake the hands—wasn’t too bad, compared to some of the others. The nibbles were good, the drinks were free, and the players invited were generally the good boys who kept their reputations clean, so Kip could let his guard down a little and leave Scott’s side without an Admirals bodyguard. All of this combined to form the mission he was on right now: making his way over to speak with Shane Hollander, via a path that conveniently involved passing the waiter with the tray of water chestnuts wrapped in bacon. 

He snagged a small handful of the snacks, creatively balancing them on a paper napkin, and slid into place next to Shane, who startled slightly.

“Good evening, Kip. How are you doing?”

Shane was one of the good ones, for sure. He also didn’t seem to know how to talk to Kip, but it came across less like he didn’t know how to interact with Real Actual Gays and more like he wasn’t entirely comfortable interacting with people in general, so Kip didn’t mind it. He was a gay man who went to art school; he’d spent four years surrounded by strange neurodivergent queers who made eye contact like it was part of a script they were following or didn’t make it at all. Honestly, in this sort of setting, chatting with Shane was the closest he’d get to his comfort zone. 

“I’m doing well! Sorry to invade your little bubble over here, but I wanted more of these, and standing alone eating is a good way to look antisocial enough to get a thinkpiece written about whether I should have been invited or not, so. Want one?”

Shane smiled slightly awkwardly. 

“I’m fine, thanks. No need to apologize, there’s enough little bubble to go around.”

Kip grinned at him. 

“Thank you! I’ll stick around then.”

“Where’s Hunter?”

Oh, jocks, and their weird grudge against the apparent intimacy of using someone’s first name.

“Scott’s making small talk with another donor. He’s got a lot more patience for the same five or six questions on repeat all night than I do, so I leave him to it and go park myself by whoever looks least likely to call me a slur.”

“I’m honored, I guess.”

“You should be! I offered to share my whatever-the-hell-these-are with you. That’s big.”

“Thanks, then.”

There was a slightly awkward pause before Kip took pity on him.

“So, how is Montreal’s season going so far?”

Shane’s shoulders relaxed immediately, and the conversation flowed from there. Montreal’s season was good, and the team was good, and everyone was playing their hardest, and so on, until Shane cut himself off. 

“Oh, hey, Hunter! How is your evening going?”

Scott stepped up next to Kip, sliding his left around around Kip’s waist. The woman accompanying him eyed the gesture fondly, so Kip let himself sink into it slightly. 

“Not bad at all, Rook! Not bad at all. Do you know Janine?”

“I haven't had the pleasure, no.”

“Janine, this is Shane Hollander, Montreal Metros, and this is my partner, Kip. Guys, this is Janine Bailey, she’s the new Director of Partnerships for the Admirals.”

Janine was a tall, older Black woman in a gorgeous Admirals-red dress with matching lipstick and nails. Unlike many of the people in the room, she actually looked excited to be there. She shook both of their hands, grinning.

“Lovely to meet you both! Scott is being generous enough to introduce me to everyone worth meeting tonight, I’m flattered he found me worthy of introducing to you, Kip. And you, too, of course, Shane.”

Shane didn’t look offended at all. He smiled at Janine.

“It’s good to meet you, too. How are you finding working for the Admirals?”

“They’re fantastic, everyone has been very welcoming. I’m happy to be there.” 

The ensuing polite small talk was more bearable than usual. Scott wouldn’t have started an actual conversation with her, otherwise. He was very good at a “oh, before we talk to this important person, let me introduce you to Kip very fast,” fulfilling the social obligation without forcing a conversation no one involved actually wanted to have. (Or without trapping Kip in a conversation he didn’t want to have, with some major donor or otherwise important person who wanted to ask intrusive questions to the shiny new thing in the room.) Janine seemed fun, though. It would be nice to have another ally to mingle with during these events (or maybe “ally” was the wrong word, now that he could see her beaded earrings a little more closely, with their black-grey-white-purple stripes). 

“I hope we haven’t made your job much harder,” said Scott. “I’ve noticed a few shifts in our sponsorships compared to last season, and considering we won the Cup last year, it’s a little hard not to take that personally. I doubt they just decided they didn’t want to sponsor champions.”

“Not at all! I won’t lie and say we didn’t lose any sponsors, but honestly, it was the trash taking itself out. I can’t speak for the entire Admirals organization, but I’d rather work with brands that align with our values.”

Shane took a sip of his drink before speaking up.

“I assumed that was what happened. I noticed the new decorations on your boards, and which ones were missing. It’s good to know who falls where, I guess. A few reached out to the Metros, and I’m embarrassed to say we took them up on their support. I personally won’t accept partnerships with brands that have already demonstrated a lack of loyalty like that, but I can’t make those decisions on behalf of the entire team, so. It’s a shame.” 

It suddenly made sense to Kip why Scott had chosen for this to be a group conversation. Despite the larger-than-life underwear ad on the billboard directly outside his hotel window, he’d somehow forgotten about Shane’s extensive experience in brand deals and sponsorships. He would probably be a great connection for Janine to make at this stage in her career.

“I’d say I’m glad our loss could be your gain, but honestly, those brands weren’t that much of a loss,” said Janine. “It’s not like they were difficult to replace. These days, everyone with any sense wants a piece of Scott. American Dream Clubhouse reached out last week, they want—”

Kip didn’t catch what they wanted, too distracted by Shane politely, discreetly choking on his drink. He looked like a deer in headlights if the car were hilarious, pressing his lips tightly together like he was trying not to laugh, eyes wide and shocked. What the hell was that interesting about a brand deal? Shane got his face under control again quickly, but not quickly enough for Kip to miss it. 

Kip smiled and carried on with the conversation politely, but was anxious for Scott and Janine to move on to the next group. The moment they did, he turned to Shane.

“Dude.”

“What?”

Shane’s poker face was pretty good, Kip had to admit. 

“That spit-take you almost did when Janine was talking about a new brand offer. What was so funny?”

Shane blinked twice. 

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Bullshit, Hollander. Spill.”

Shane glanced from side to side, then looked back at Kip. 

“There’s nothing to spill.”

“Like hell there isn’t. I saw that face! Janine said the American Dream—that! What was that?!”

Shane’s mouth had twitched again. He looked a little panicked, but also a little flushed.

“It wasn’t anything important, it just reminded me of something, is all.”

“Something hilarious, apparently.” Kip’s eyes narrowed. Shane was definitely blushing. “Come on, you have to tell me. Make this boring-as-shit event worth it, Shane, I’m begging you.”

He tried his best puppy eyes. He didn’t actually expect it to work, but Shane blushed further before glancing around again like he was making sure no one else was in earshot. 

“She said everyone wants a piece of Scott. The American Dream.”

“She did, yeah?”

“You haven’t seen that one?”

Shane sounded shocked, but Kip was just confused.

“That one what? I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Shane looked at him, awkwardly scratching his neck.

“I can— If I show you this, you have to swear you’ll never tell anyone it was me, okay? Not even Hunter. No one.”

Well, Kip was nothing if not a nosy bitch, and now he was intrigued. Scott would forgive him for this very minor betrayal if he ever found out about it, Kip was sure. 

“I swear, now spill.”

Shane hesitated, sighed, then stepped closer to Kip. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, glancing over his shoulder like he was pulling out something significantly more incriminating. It didn’t take him very long to find whatever it was he was looking for before he handed the phone sideways to Kip. 

“It’s one of the most famous fan edit videos of Hunter, it was everywhere you went online a few years ago. Well, everywhere hockey fans went, at least. Keep the volume down.”

Kip wiped his fingers one last time and shoved the napkin into his pocket before taking Shane’s phone. He pulled it close enough that he could hear whatever this was, angling it so no one but he and Shane could see, and pressed play. The song was vaguely familiar, like it was something that had probably been really popular several years ago but he hadn’t regularly listened to since then. The man onscreen, though, was much more recognizable.

Immediately, he got why Shane had thought of this. The singer sang “have a piece of American Dream” over a shot of Scott from a few years ago, circling the ice in his violently red, white, and blue Team USA Olympic jersey. Then he got why Shane was blushing; the edit cut to Scott in the middle of some game Kip hadn’t seen, on his knees on the ice, staring at someone off-camera with the fierce look that never failed to make Kip shiver, as the song continued “open up and swallow on your knees.” The camera zoomed in on Scott’s face as he wiped across his mouth with one glove, still glaring, perfectly in time with the line “and say, ‘thank you, I’d like some desperate measures, please.’”

Oh. 

Oh, wow. 

Yeah, Kip wouldn’t have been able to play that off half as coolly as Shane had, if this had popped into his head in the middle of that conversation. Considering Shane was picturing Scott, on his knees and severely implied to be immediately post-blowjob, while standing next to Scott and his boyfriend? Even the straightest of men would have struggled, and Kip was relatively certain Shane wasn’t straight. They hadn’t spent much time together, but… come on. 

Scott got to his feet as the song continued: “For a first effort, this feels kind of last-ditch. I guess this just—” the video cut again, and Kip couldn’t tell if this was a different camera angle of the same event or if they’d switched to a different part of a different game. Either way, Scott was skating pretty intensely at someone. “—got kind of drastic. Trust us, you just fell off the bus, suckers.” Scott reached whoever it was, and—

Goddaaaaaaamn, his boyfriend was hot. It probably said something not very flattering about him and what he was into, but watching his boyfriend grab someone by the jersey and pull them toward him, landing two sharp punches straight to the guy’s face perfectly on-beat while the background music sang “yeah, well, payback is a motherfucker!” was really doing something to him. That guy had probably deserved it, anyway. And you know what? Even if he hadn’t, Kip was a strong supporter of gay rights and gay wrongs. The song continued into the chorus, segueing to a bunch of short clips and stills of Scott edited in a very 20-teens fan style, lots of sparkles, hearts, and pink bows for whatever reason, but Kip was still caught on what he’d just seen. 

So was Shane, apparently, slightly red and completely locked in, focusing entirely on the screen in front of them. Kip grinned at him, handing his phone back.

“So, you’re sending me the link to that, obviously.”

Shane startled, trying and not-quite-succeeding to bury the guilty look on his face. Personally, Kip would be thrilled to show his friends sexy videos of their partners, but Shane had made him promise not to tell anyone, so he assumed there was some embarrassment there. He decided to be a gentleman and not point it out. (Too much.)

“Come on! If half of the hockey internet has been thirsting over my boyfriend for years, it’s unethical of you not to help me thirst over him now. I owe you big time for showing me that, though. Goddamn, but I did good.”

Shane laughed again, looking slightly scandalized. 

“I don’t. Um. I can’t text it to you, I don’t think I have your number?”

Kip made a faux-coy face, pressing one hand to his chest.

“Asking for my number? Shane Hollander! You know I’m a taken man!”

Shane’s eyes went wide.

“No, I— not that— you’re not—”

Yeah, that was a baby gay, alright. Flustered, panicking, and completely adorable. Kip took pity on him, but not without a mental note to make Scott drag him to the Kingfisher after the next game they played against each other. Throwing this poor thing at Kyle would be hilarious and also probably good for him. Personal growth, queer joy, and all that. 

“Relax, Shane, I’m teasing you. I doubt I’m your type.” Or, maybe, judging by that reaction—anyway. “You’re definitely one of the most tolerable of the jock crowd, I wouldn’t hate having your number regardless, but I do just want the video. Entirely innocent intentions, I promise. Or, innocent where they involve you, at least.” 

He pulled out his phone, started a new message, and looked back at Shane expectantly. Shane rattled off his number, still looking slightly shell-shocked. Kip typed it and sent Shane a text, just a quick “hiiiiiiii, this is Kip!”

Shane’s phone buzzed and he glanced at it, smiling awkwardly at Kip. He then visibly startled when Scott suddenly reappeared, sliding his arm back around Kip’s waist and kissing him on the cheek.

Scott may not have noticed Shane’s eyes widen slightly at the minor PDA, but Kip sure did. Oh, he’d have some fun with him, for sure. 

“Sorry to abandon you, babe. I had a few more introductions I needed to make for Janine. She’s a really great addition to the organization, I want to make sure she’s set up for success as much as possible, and it’s such an old boys’ club around here, I thought a few handshakes from me could ease the way a bit. Hey again, Rook, thanks for keeping him company.”

“No problem, but the more you call me a rookie, the more I have to call you Mr. Hunter, sir.” 

Scott cringed.

“Sometimes I swear the whole ‘rivalry’ thing is fake, and you and Rozanov are sneaking behind everyone’s backs, coordinating ways to fuck with us.”

Shane twitched slightly, shooting Kip the briefest, most panicked of looks.

Rozanov, that was his hot Russian rival, right? The two of them—oh, holy shit.

Sneaking behind everyone’s backs, coordinating ways to fuck?

Good for them, honestly. 

Now it was Kip’s turn to press his lips tightly together, not laughing at a joke Scott was definitely not allowed to know about. Well, at least he knew that, thirst edits aside, Shane wasn’t aiming to be a homewrecker. He didn’t mind a happily taken man respectfully appreciating Kip’s own happily taken man, from a distance, of course. After all, who could blame him? That edit would be keeping Kip company on some of Scott’s longer road trips, for sure. Shane and Rozanov both could look, but couldn’t touch, and Kip would continue to be delightfully smug about it. 

Shane straightened slightly. 

“I also have a few more hands I need to shake tonight. Always good to see you, Kip. Hunter, see you in a few weeks.”

Scott huffed. 

“Montreal and Boston back to back is just rude, but at least we’re playing you both at home. See you then.” 

Kip grinned at Shane, just a little too sharply to be innocent. 

“Always a pleasure, Shane. I appreciate it.”

Shane expertly dodged his eye contact and nodded at them both before moving on.

Scott squeezed Kip’s side gently. 

“Good talk?”

“Definitely. I enjoy Shane.”

“Yeah, he’s one of the good ones. A bit awkward, but he was equally awkward before and after we came out, so it’s still a win.”

Kip placed his hand on top of Scott’s hand that was still on his waist, turning to face him more directly. 

“I have a very important question for you.”

Scott raised an eyebrow.

“Shoot.”

“Will we be getting out of here in the next fifteen minutes or so, or should I go get another handful of hors d'oeuvres?”

Scott grinned at him. 

“We can definitely be getting out of here. I’m starving, and I need some food in a serving size actually meant for eating, not looking delicate on a tray.”

Kip grinned back, giving him a quick peck on the lips. 

“Awesome. Lead the way.”

And, dropping his arm from Kip’s waist so he could take his hand instead, Scott did.