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Modal verbs by apathyinreverie
Fandoms: Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types
25 Jun 2026
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Summary
Hayden stares, the sight in front of him not quite computing.
There is the couch. There is Shane on the couch. There is Shane on the couch, sleeping on his back with one arm wrapped securely around the waist of another person sleeping on top of him. The waist of another man sleeping on top of him.
A man.
As in, not Boston Lily.
As in, not a woman at all.
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Or, a prank goes awry and Hollanov is outed even earlier. At least everyone can agree that it’s still entirely Hayden Pike’s fault. -
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Because Comeau takes it as a chance to sneer, “It’s disgusting thinking of some fag looking at us for years. Fuck, who knows how often he’s gotten off on showering with the rest of us.”
Silence stretches.
Huh, maybe Hayden will be the one to throw the first punch after all. Surely, Jackie will understand. Because what the fuck did Comeau just say?
Unexpectedly, it’s Shane who breaks the silence. Shane who blinks once in apparent surprise, before the corners of his lips tilt up and he snorts a laugh. It’s not even a quiet snort, almost a guffaw when compared to how subdued Shane usually is about showing his emotions.
Hayden stares at his best friend, taken aback by the reaction.
“Are you actually serious?” Shane asks into the surprised silence, something amused but also definitely derisive glinting in his eyes.
Oh, Hayden thinks. Oh, no. He’s seen this particular look on Shane before.
See, most people think of Shane as this sweet, gentle, couldn’t-hurt-a-fly sort of guy, without a single mean bone in his body and with a loves-and-respects-all kind of mentality. Most people would also be wrong. Sure, Shane tends to be rather quiet, especially in group settings, rarely speaks up to make his opinions known. However, that in no way means that Shane doesn’t have opinions, pretty firm ones even. Hayden has learned over the years that his best friend can be absolutely brutal whenever he decides to make those opinions known, especially whenever he decides to talk about other people’s short-comings on the ice by pointing out, what Shane considers, self-evident facts.
Hayden watches, caught between dread and somewhat vindictive delight, as Shane turns slightly, angling himself a little towards the couch without taking his eyes off Comeau. Only to then gesture at Rozanov still sitting there. It’s a slow gesture, rather all-encompassing, top to bottom.
“I’m dating Ilya Rozanov,” Shane states, matter-of-fact, voice deadpan and still that derisive glint in his eyes.
Everyone blinks at his apparent need to reiterate that particular little tidbit.
Shane raises his eyebrows, almost leadingly, something about his expression very reminiscent of when he is explaining the same play to the team for the fifth time in practice and has started using very small words because some of the guys are still not getting it. “The fact that you think I might be even remotely interested in you, when all of that,” he gestures at Rozanov again, top to bottom, “is already mine, is honestly impressive. And, frankly, delusional.”
Utter silence.