Chapter Text
Ilya was angrily side eyeing his teammates.
They had just come off the ice after the first period. As always, he was last off the ice into the locker room and so was furthest away from Shane who had stripped off his jersey on his way to his stall and was now sat bending forward to undo his skates.
Wiebe was at the other side of the room pointing at the whiteboard and talking about strategy and not one single player was paying attention to him.
They were all staring at Shane. Some quite shyly, some in a very confused way, and some with what appeared to be barely concealed lust.
As Ilya looked around the room he could see varying degrees of all of that and then he looked back at Shane who continued to loosen his skates, completely oblivious.
He took another quick glance around the locker room. Luca was now practically squeezing himself into his stall as if trying to get away from something. Wyatt was also bent forward, leaning on his huge goalie pads, head turned slightly in Shane’s direction, apparently biting down hard on the thumb of one hand. Troy seemed to be hot-footing it out of the room?!
Ilya frowned and looked back at Shane again. He looked fucking gorgeous as always. His hair was clinging to his neck and forehead in the way that Ilya loved when they were sweat-soaked together in bed. The slope of his back as he yanked at his laces reminded Ilya of how it looked when he would bend Shane over… well anything really, but.. there was nothing new, nothing out of the ordinary as far as he could see.
A sudden creaking sound got Ilya's attention and he turned in its direction to see Bood, eyes bugging out of his head almost like a cartoon character, gaze fixed on Shane with a white-knuckle grip on the shelf in his stall.
Okay. Enough was enough.
Ilya let out an angry breath and stalked over to Shane who was now sitting up and stretching his arms above his head. As Ilya crossed the room, he noticed all the other players turning away guiltily as if they’d been caught doing something they shouldn't. Fucking right.
“Shane, what the fuck is happening? Why is everyone looking at you like they want to eat you?”
Shane’s eyes widened, and he glanced quickly around, “What?!”
Ilya took a deep breath then, in through the nose ready to explain what he’d been looking at, and that’s when it hit him.
The scent. If you had pressed Ilya to describe it, he probably wouldn’t have been able to, but it was coming off his husband in waves and Ilya had never smelled anything like it. He was getting hard in his cup and light in the head.
He reached out and grabbed Shane’s shoulder to steady himself, wriggled his hips a little in a futile attempt to adjust himself, then hissed, low “Shane? What did you do?”
A look of surprise crossed Shane’s features then a sudden understanding, but before he could really say anything, Wiebe was calling out plays, and Ilya was trying as hard as possible to concentrate on anything that he was saying. Then before he knew what was happening they were having to get their jerseys back on, ready for the second period.
And as he watched the other guys head back out onto the ice, realised he hadn't been the only one trying to adjust himself.
From where he was sitting on the bench, Ilya started to notice that not only his teammates were distracted but the guys on the other team were too. They were all clearly affected whenever they were in any kind of proximity to Shane.
At one point Shane got checked into the boards by Dubec, one of Edmonton’s forwards. It wasn’t a hard hit, but Dubec skated away in the wrong direction looking like he was the one who’d taken the hit. From a wrecking ball.
Shane meanwhile took off with the puck and assisted on an incredible goal.
It went on like this for the full 37 minutes that the period ended up lasting. Ilya was getting more and more infuriated every time Shane came back from a shift and he could see whoever was next to him squeezing closer and full-on sniffing.
And it was getting worse on the ice every minute they were out there. Even the refs and linesmen seemed to be affected whenever Shane got too close. Any face offs where Shane was involved were a complete shambles because nobody could seem to concentrate. He kept having to be swapped out.
Once the second period ended, Ilya stood by the exit to the tunnel and saw his teammates off the ice again, but this time he stepped off in front of Shane. He would never normally leave before anyone else, but he had to head him off.
Once all the players were in the locker room, Ilya shoved Shane round the corner out of sight of the rink, dropped his stick and helmet to the ground. Then he took Shane’s helmet off and dropped that too. He leaned in, gripped Shane's chin and tilted his head to the side so he could take a huge inhale through his nose.
His pupils were so huge, his eyes were like blue-ringed black holes. “Jeeeeesus Shane. Tell me what you did??”
“Ilya. Fuck. What are you-“
Ilya put a hand on Shane’s chest and pushed him hard back against the wall and Shane's breath huffed out of him.
“Don’t ‘Ilya’ me. Why is absolutely everyone acting this way around you? And why do you smell this way? Everyone is feral Shane. Only I can be feral for you. Now tell me, what did you do?”
Shane’s cheeks were bright red now. And not his usual ‘exertion from a hockey game’ red, but flushed from Ilya’s possessive hand pressing firmly against him and the way he was speaking.
“O-okay. So I think I know what it might be. I bought something. On the Internet. And I used it th-this m-morning.” Shane was stuttering now because Ilya was licking long stripes up the length of his neck.
“Okay?” Ilya muttered against his skin, “and?”
“You’ve got to stop doing that. We’re in public. It’s unprofessional.” Shane said, even as he leaned his head back to give Ilya more reach.
Ilya pulled back for a moment, “What I think is unprofessional is you turning on two full hockey teams and all the officials all at once. Shall we go back on the ice so you can get the Zamboni driver too?”
“Hey!”
Ilya nuzzled back in and took Shane's earlobe between his teeth. “Tell me what you bought.”
“It’s a pheromone scent.” Shane gasped out, "but I put it on this morning after we got back from practice. And nothing happened. It doesn’t work.”
“How did you know it doesn’t work?” Ilya asked.
Shane laughed a little, “Well if it did, you would have been doing to me then what you’re doing to me now. But at home.”
Right at that moment, Evan Dykstra pulled open the curtain from the locker room and took a step toward them, “Cap? Coach wants to speak to us all before third period. You too Hollzy.”
Both Shane & Ilya managed to nod in acknowledgment, then they watched in amusement and a little horror as Evan’s expression changed and he started to saunter, as much as one can in slides, towards Shane, attempting a seductive “Orrrr Hollzy you can stay out here with me if you want? And we’ll find something else to do?”
“BACK OFF DYKSTRA,” Ilya’s other arm shot out and pushed Evan back towards the curtain.
“Okay, so. I think I might know what happened.” Shane said suddenly.
“What?” Ilya asked, still looking in the direction of the locker room just in case any more players decided to venture out.
“So the bottle said to spray it places where you naturally sweat because that would enhance the effects. I didn’t think about it after nothing happened at home. Ilya, it was hours ago, but-“
“But now you are sweating a lot. So it is enhancing a lot.”
“I think that might be it, yes.”
“Well this is a serious problem Shane, because I want to strip off your kit and fuck you right here in the tunnel. More than I usually want to.”
Shane shivered. It was noticeable even under his body armour. Ilya knew he would like that.
“However, I am apparently not the only one who currently wants this. And we have another period to play so you are only going to get hotter and sweatier. So what can we do about this?"
“Maybe… I should sit the last period out?
“No. Shane, you cannot. How would we explain? And also, we need to win this game.”
At that moment, Troy came around the corner from the bathrooms, red in the face and pulling his jersey back on over his head.
“Barrett?” Ilya looked at him quizzically.
Troy put a hand up. “Don’t talk to me.” and went back to the locker room.
Mere seconds afterwards, Harris sheepishly also emerged from the bathrooms, looking extremely flushed, very giddy and more than a little dishevelled.
“Harris?!”
“Don’t ask me. He just texted me as soon as he got off the ice, told me he had an emergency so of course I came running and then this!” Harris gestured at the state of himself, “I have never seen him that worked up before! I don’t know what happened!”
“I do,” said Shane, a little miserably, as Harris went back up the tunnel and out into the stands.
Ilya sighed. "Жаль, что я до этого не додумался.I wish I had thought of that.“
“Okay, look, I messed up, but this was for you, it’s not for everyone else on the team. I can’t help what they’re feeling. And you’re used to wanting to jump me at any given moment right?”
“Mmmm not like this, though.” Ilya snapped his teeth together twice, quickly, like he wanted to bite.
Shane grinned, “Right, but it’s not like a huge step up for you.” If you and I can just get through this last period, we just need to get home… then you can have me.”
Ilya growled at this. “Okay, I think we should explain to everyone.”
“Oh my god no!”
“I will not watch everyone drooling over you for one more period. This is making me so mad. Even if they can’t help it.”
They went back into the locker room, Shane threw open the curtain which was definitely a mistake, because just this action sent a waft of his musk into the room and everyone looked up immediately. Ilya saw Bood licking his lips and wanted to punch him.
The only person that seemed not to be affected at all was Wiebe. Which thank god because Shane would die if his coach wanted to fuck him, but also why?
Ilya stepped into the centre of the room, “Coach, we need a quick players only meeting before we go back out.”
Wiebe looked a little confused, but said “oh, okay. Is everything…?”
“Everything is fine. This will not take long.”
Wiebe took his clipboard and gestured for the assistant coaches to leave the room with him. Once he was gone, Shane started to move forward. Ilya shook his head. “Not a good plan. Just stay back there. I will say it.” and he turned back to the room.
“Okay everyone. Some of you may have noticed something different about my husband this evening.”
“Oh I think we are all noticing it.” a voice came across the room, which got murmurs of agreement started up. A lot of agreement.
“Hey. HEY!” Ilya whistled through his teeth to get quiet again, “yes yes, Shane is giving off a come fuck me vibe to everyone tonight-.”
“Ilya!” Shane interjected.
“Is accidental. But let me make this extremely clear. Nobody gets to come, or fuck him but me.”
“Looks like Troy already came.” Nick Chouinard sniggered.
Troy smacked him, “Shut it Choui”
“Yes, but Harris was on the receiving end.” Ilya pointed out.
“Oh my god, the point is,” Shane did step forward now, “I’m sorry. I really did not mean to get you all turned on like this, but we still have another period to play and we need to win this game, so maybe can you try to direct this energy into hockey until you get home to your other halves?”
“And Luca, you can just look at my poster over your bed and have your own fun.”
“ILYA!”
Wyatt stood up then, “Okay but what about everyone else though?”
“What do you mean?” Ilya asked
“Well it’s not just us is it? The other team is obviously affected too?”
“Well.” Shane looked thoughtful for a second, “maybe we use that to our advantage a bit?”
Ilya grinned at him, “You are a dirty, dirty boy.”
—--
The third period was a mess. A lot of dirty play, penalties given away left right and centre because the Centaurs were all over the place trying to concentrate and not to think about how fucking horny they were, but equally no goals given away because none of the Edmonton powerplay line could think straight either.
In the end the game was won because Shane was on a breakaway with the puck and got quite nastily fouled from behind, something that hadn’t happened for a long while and was probably due to these extenuating circumstances. He was awarded a penalty shot, and when he got near the net, the goalie just closed his eyes, likely from arousal, and the shot went straight in.
It was the fastest end of game handshake line-up they’d ever done and once they were off the ice and back in the locker room Ilya said “we will be going straight home. We’re not risking showers here tonight. Have fun everyone.” He and Shane changed out of their gear, into sweats not their usual post-game suits, and high-tailed it out of there.
—---
Not living far from the arena was a blessing. Ilya was practically crawling out of his skin. Shane was tense beside him.
“Shane, what is wrong?” Ilya asked, his hand gripping Shane’s thigh.
Shane looked over at him, “I feel a bit guilty. That was like cheating.”
Ilya’s hand slid into Shane’s crotch, “Do you want me to punish you for being bad?”
Shane grabbed his hand and pulled it closer on his hardening dick. “Just keep your eyes on the road please, or we won’t be able to do anything.”
“ГосподиOh my god you smell incredible.”
“I literally stink Ilya, I can’t believe I haven’t had a shower.”
“If you have a shower though, it will wash the thing away? The spray thing?”
“Pheromone? I don’t know. Maybe?”
“Then we are not risking it. I want you to come in my mouth before we get in the shower.”
“Jesus Ilya, you can’t just say that.” Shane pressed harder into Ilya’s hand. “Just get us home before I actually come in my pants.”
Ilya pulled into the driveway and practically abandoned the car. He jumped out of his side, ran around to Shane’s side and grabbed his hand, pulling him to the door. He was struggling to get the door open.
“HELP ME SHANE”
Shane moved in front of him and started to key in the code to the door, and Ilya took the opportunity to press his cock up against Shane’s ass, slinging his arm around him and pulling him close.
Shane groaned and leant back against him. “Ilya we need to get inside.”
"Yes I do want to be inside, but I think that will have to wait."
“The house, Ilya. I meant the house.”
“Oh, I know what you meant.”
They did get through the door, but that was as far as they got before Ilya was on his knees.
“Mmm Shane did you spray here too?” Ilya asked as he yanked down Shane’s sweatpants and underwear, then immediately took Shane’s cock in his mouth.
Shane’s hands went into Ilya’s curls and held on. “Ah, fuuuuuuck. Yes. A little. Oh my god. Fuck. Ilya.”
Ilya pulled off for a second, “I was so torn tonight. Because all of our teammates, all of the other team had their sex eyes on you, and you are only mine, but also I wondered if you would like it?” He took Shane in his mouth again.
Shane thrust forwards, “No. No. I only want you, but…”
“Hmm?” Ilya formed the question in a hum around Shane’s cock and Shane groaned.
“But I loved that I was having that effect on them. On you. It made me feel really fucking sexy.”
At that Ilya doubled his efforts. His other hand was down between his own legs now, fisting his own cock at the same pace as he was sucking down Shane’s. He was grabbing Shane’s pec, probably too hard as it was also helping him to balance and Shane’s grip on his hair tightened.
“Fuck. Ilya. I’m coming. Uhhhh fuck.” and Shane came in Ilya’s mouth.
Ilya greedily swallowed it all, lapped at the head of Shane’s cock to make sure he hadn’t missed any and then followed suit, coming all over his hand and the floor. “Fuuuck Shane.”
Shane’s legs gave way and he sank down to the floor. Ilya kissed him, tongue licking into his mouth and sharing what he’d just taken in.
“Holy hell. That was ridiculous.” Shane said, breathlessly into Ilya’s shoulder.
“It was perfect.” Ilya corrected, “But that cannot happen at a game again. We will just have to find some other ways to get you sweaty next time you use it.”
_____________________
It was about an hour later that that the "thank you" messages started to roll into the Centaurs group chat.