Summary:

The game had been long, and Shane Hollander had been a pain in the ass as usual. Not only because of his skill but also because he was distractingly pretty on the ice. These years somehow more so than when they had been Rookies. Or Ilya had just learned how to appreciate it, whatever that was supposed to mean. This newfound appreciation however didn’t help when he had to face off with Shane and he darted out his tongue to wet his lips. Distracting Ilya immensely, his mind wandering off to what Shane could do with that tongue. Or the times when Ilya shoved Shane against the barricade and felt his rival’s body underneath his. Only to be reminded of all the times Ilya had gotten Shane underneath him without all that protective gear. --- They had been doing this for years by now. And by now they had a routine they stuck to. There was a city where their teams would play each other, there was a text and a suggestion for a place. Then they played the game and riled each other up. Afterwards, they met up in secret to fuck. That was what they did and what Ilya was used to. Until Ilya received a text after their hook up that disrupted their routine for the first time after years.