Steve Yzerman: 
Brendan Shanahan: 
by me
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Stevie/Shanny
Disclaimer: FAKE!
Summary: Just a little post-game.
Notes: Just another tragic example of what happens...WHEN BUNNIES ATTACK!!! ::cue dramatic music:: Ok, I'm done. I apologize in advance for my Braves plug and my Hurricane sympathy.
Someone knocked on the door. Steve sighed. "Come in," he called rhetorically.
"Yes, and that would require a key."
He smiled at Brendan's voice. "Ok, just a second, let me unpack my knee from this cooler..."
A few moments later, he opened his door to admit the winger, then hobbled back to the bed while Brendan bolted the door behind him. "So how are you?"
"About the same as the last time you saw me, Bren."
"We aren't dead yet," he grinned.
"Maybe you aren't," Steve groaned, replacing the ice on his sore knee.
"I know," Brendan said, flopping down next to Yzerman. "But now we've won and we'll just keep on winning."
"Hell yeah we will."
"You're amazing, Stevie. You really are. We all know the kind of pain you're in. And still...no one fights harder. You're our soul."
"Yeah, and no pressure."
Brendan sat up and flipped the TV to ESPN, then lay back, pillowing his head on Steve's shoulder. "Baseball," he muttered, as a Braves/Marlins piece came on.
"He's really fast," Steve commented as the announcers talked about a major league record for triples in a game.
"I can skate faster than him."
Steve rolled his eyes. "No shit."
Finally hockey stuff came on and they sat silently through highlights of the New Jersey/Carolina game. "They're a little harsh on the Hurricanes, don't you think?"
"I don't know. They had a pretty shitty game."
"They still lead the series."
"So does Vancouver."
"That's true," Brendan agreed. "Ron Francis is a good guy, though."
"He is, though I'm not sure that's got anything to do with it."
Brendan grinned. "Hey look, we're on." They watched Steve's goal and Brendan couldn't help but smile. "Shanahan to Yzerman. I never get tired of hearing that."
"Yeah, you just like hearing your own name."
"I like hearing my own name...in conjunction with yours."
"Oooh, that's a big word."
Brendan, predictably, responded by poking him in the ribs. "Aw, man, I felt sorry for Cloutier," he said, as Nick's shot on net from the red line went in.
"Yeah, I remember. You were real torn up about it."
"Yeah, well." Brendan grinned. "I don't feel THAT bad."
Steve sighed as Sportscenter went to commercial after Brendan's goal and a couple of saves by Hasek. "Are you staying here tonight?"
"Can I?" Bren turned his head to look at him, and Steve kissed him quickly.
"Will Brett care?"
Brendan laughed. "Brett? Care? He thinks it's funny. He makes fun of me."
"Want me to beat him up for you?"
"Nah, I think he's cute."
"Do you."
"Not THAT cute...besides...he's sort of...taken."
"No one on our team, I hope."
"He makes lots of calls to Dallas..."
Steve smiled. "I could've guessed."
"Well, it isn't a huge secret."
"We aren't a huge secret, either. Not in the locker room, anyway."
Sighing, Steve removed the ice from his knee and dropped it on the floor. He pulled the covers over himself and Brendan. "The damn ice is cold."
Brendan smiled and snuggled closer. "Go figure. I guess I'll have to keep you warm."
"Guess so," Steve said. He turned to look at Brendan, and Bren kissed him. Steve sighed as his lover climbed on top him, being careful to avoid his right leg and deepened their kiss.
"Warmer?"
"Much warmer," the captain smiled, trailing his fingers through Shanny's hair.
"Good," Bren murmured, and leaned back down.