Rating:

General Audiences

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Heated Rivalry (TV)

Relationships:

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

Characters:

Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander, Kip Grady, Scott Hunter (Game Changers), Carter Vaughn, Other Admirals Players

Additional Tags:

2017 Stanley Cup Final, Established Relationship, Fluff

Language:

English

Series:

Part 1 of Troublemakers

Stats:

Published: 2025-12-22 Words: 5,063 Chapters: 1/1

Troublemaker

Summary

Kip's first outing as Scott's partner after the Stanley Cup results in an unexpected friendship with Ilya Rozanov.

(For those asking for it, this now has a sequel called 'Peacemaker')

Notes

I need to make this clear, this is TV verse. I thought I had read some of Rachel Reid's books but was surprised to realise the book I had read, 'The Shots You Take', is not actually part of the Heated Rivalry/Game Changers universe. (Which is sad because it's a great book and I may have name dropped one of the main characters of that book in this fic)

And because I am trying to avoid spoilers until I can actually read the books (and ep 6), this is only compliant with Eps 1-5 (apart from googling names of some of Scott's friends and reading fics to figure out his inner circle) and how I think Kip and Ilya should mean post ep 5.

(Also, I know nothing about Hockey. I don't even know if there is an MVP style award show after the Stanley Cup. I am making things up for the story)

The MLH awards 2017

The ballroom was buzzing with excitement, the atmosphere electric with energy. Players, Wives, Coaches and Reps moved around, working the crowds as they awaited the beginning of the show.

From a semi quiet corner, Ilya Rozanov watched on, a glass of vodka in his hand.

It wasn’t that he was sulking. He was Russian and Russians didn’t ‘sulk’. But he was bored. Although he was a contender for the MVP this year, he wasn’t a forerunner and besides, his usual rival was also not in the running. Not that he cared about that. He had already won in his mind.

The award was a small trifle when he had the heart of Shane Hollander already in his possession.

Their trip to the cottage, their long weeks together, had been better than any prize Ilya could win on that stage. So let the others bask in their glory for tonight. He didn’t care.

Still, that didn’t mean he could skip out, as much as he wanted to. No, although their relationship had shifted in the last few weeks, they still weren’t ‘out’ and Shane, finally free from his sling, was trapped at his mothers side, working the room like the good boy he was. Not that he didn’t look spectacular in his suit. Ilya had been keeping an eye on him but had decided to keep his distance, simply to avoid the temptation to jump the other man in the middle of the dance floor and rip that delectable suit off him.

No, he and Shane had already agreed. They would attend separately, they would mingle with their peers, they would eat a fancy meal and drink expensive alcohol (Well, Ilya would. Shane would mourn the lack of Ginger Ale and drink water instead) and watch the awards and then, once everything was done, they would meet in Ilya’s hotel room and Ilya would suck Shane’s brain out through his cock.

And so the Russian waited for the show to end, which didn’t look like it was going to come soon enough when the promise of hot sex was on the table. And frankly, Ilya was bored and frustrated already.

Briefly, he regretted not asking Svetlana to be his date for the night but she was still in Moscow, working. Had she been here, she would have been entertaining, at the least. And probably would have made some of the WAGs cry with her catty wit and natural beauty.

Speaking of WAGs, Ilya lowered his glass as he spotted someone in the crowd.

Stuck in the middle of a small group near the other side of the room was the hockey world’s newest WAG.

Kip Grady.

Ilya knew next to nothing about the man. The first male WAG and the partner of Scott Hunter.

Since the surprise kiss at the Stanley Cup, the MLH had been in an uproar, both for and against the couple. It was the type of chaos Ilya would have reveled in, especially because it was Scott Hunter, the predictable old work horse of the league, of all people, causing it.

But it was hard to revel when he himself was hiding from the spotlight Hunter had jumped straight into.

Although he enjoyed riling Hunter up, Ilya did respect the man. When he was younger, a rookie in the League, he had enjoyed trying to get a rise out of the old guard. It had given Ilya the reputation of being an asshole and most of the previous generation hated him for it, deliberately targeting him during games. But Hunter was one of the few who didn’t break at Ilya’s teasing. Yes, he would occasionally bite back, snapping at the Russian’s taunts. But he never got physical and was mostly a gentleman. It was part of the reason Ilya continued to target him when they were on the ice, because he wanted to see that famous composure break. And why he still marveled at the fight between Hunter and Shane.

(It was still surprising that Hockey’s two golden boys had scrapped like that. It had also scored Shane one of his only penalties for fighting, since he had thrown the first punch.)

Ilya would never admit it, even under torture, but he did like Hunter. Admired his skills. And his bravery.

And Hunter at least, was smart enough to keep the relationship private after the big reveal. Although the new couple had been chased around New York since that night, the Admirals had closed ranks to protect them and apart from a single interview confirming he was gay, Hunter had refused to go into the details. Which made this Kip a mystery.

Oh, Ilya knew the basics. The man wasn’t a hockey player, but an academic of some sort and they had met outside the rink. The man also didn’t seem to be the fame hungry type that some WAGs turned out to be, which was good.

And of course, he was hot.

Ilya may be completely devoted to Shane Hollander, but he was a hot-blooded bisexual man with eyes. He could tell when a man was attractive.

And this Kip was certainly attractive, cute curly dark hair and doe eyes similar to Shane’s. Smaller than many of the players Ilya normally surrounded himself with. Fun sized, Ilya remembered hearing one of his teammates say about a woman once. It definitely fit the description of the man.

Hunter, too, was attractive. Ilya wasn’t afraid to say they made a very pretty pair. Had he needed anything other than Shane’s image in his head, the thought of those two together and what they would be like in bed, certainly would have helped him get it up.

But he didn’t. Still, he was bored and this man was a mystery. Maybe Ilya should go and introduce himself.

Not that doing so would be easy.

Ilya couldn’t help but notice that Kip was surrounded by several of the Admiral Players and their wives, a protective ring formed around him. Keeping any gossip away for the man’s first public outing as Hunter’s date.

Hunter was off somewhere. Probably preparing to give a speech. But his friends had obviously been given clear instructions not to leave his date alone. Ilya recognised Carter Vaughn, Eric Bennett and Greg Huff, Admirals players and members of Hunter’s famous ‘inner circle’ with the man, as well as a few women who must be their dates or friends.

The hockey players were gossiping with the new man, laughing and telling jokes which seemed to go above Kip’s head, if the polite smile and slight confusion in his eyes was anything to go by and the women were talking to each other. Occasionally, they too seemed to try and engage the man but it was clear Kip was out of his depth here.

The man definitely needed a helping hand and let's face it, if Ilya was to ‘make friends’ with Hunter’s boyfriend, it would be worth it, just to see how the older man reacted. Probably explosively. Maybe Ilya would finally be able to break the man if he did.

But to get to Kip, Ilya would have to somehow get past his guard dogs.

Leaning against a wall as he studied the group, he started to consider a few ideas. He would always go up to the group. But that seemed too obvious. Plus, it was the least likely of his plans to succeed and if this was to work, he didn’t want to clue in Hunter or his circle.

He could always hang by the restroom, wait for the man to leave the protective circle to take a piss or something. But that too, was probably not a great idea. If the man was really as skittish as he looked, Ilya could find himself in trouble for approaching him like that.

Ilya was considering trying to cause some sort of scene, maybe tip a tray over and hope the Admirals players' chivalry would take over and they would break formation to try to help, when he noticed Kip raise what looked like an empty alcohol bottle and say something to Vaughn.

Vaughn nodded and said something which Kip shook his head at. Then, the man slipped from the protective circle, making his way to the bar.

Score.

Quickly draining his own glass, Ilya pushed away from the wall and made his way through the crowd, like a predator stalking his prey through the long grass. His eyes were fixed on the other man.

—--

Kip Grady was well and truly out of his depth in the large ballroom. The noise, the people.

Yes, he had been to these sort of functions before, mostly with Elena. But never on this scale, even when he had been working as a server. And never with this level of attention on him. When he was with Elena, the focus was always on her. He was just a decoration, an accessory to her beauty.

When Scott had said he wanted Kip to come to the awards show as his plus one, Kip had expected it would be the same. Scott would be the star and Kip would orbit him, unobtrusive. A silent supporter. But the moment they had left the limo and stepped onto the carpet leading into the building, the paparazzi had gone ballistic, snapping pictures and shouting. It was like there had been a permanent spotlight on Kip and Scott for their first appearance outside of the game.

Even when they had gotten inside and found the rest of the Admirals, when Scott had excused himself to go backstage to speak with an old player who was being integrated into the Hall of Fame, the light hadn’t left with him.

It was a little disorientating.

Thankfully, Scott’s friends had been welcoming and had stayed with Kip when he had to go backstage, a few familiar faces in a sea of strangers.

Kip had already become friendly with Scott’s friends before that night. They had actually met before the Stanley Cup game, after he and Scott had gotten back together and Scott had decided to come out to them. All three had been incredibly supportive and had basically adopted Kip into their little group as soon as it became apparent there was someone in Scott’s life. Scott had planned his reveal to the world with them all. Carter Vaughn in particular, seemed to see Kip as a younger brother of sorts and had been glued to his side whenever they were in the same room.

Of course, Scott hadn’t stuck to their plan in the end, much to his manager’s horror, pulling Kip onto the ice after winning the cup and revealing their relationship to the world.

Kip hadn’t been surprised but thrilled that Scott’s whole team had been so supportive and welcoming once the news had gotten out. Even the WAGs had welcomed Kip, joking that he was their first ever HAB and they were going to be protective of him.

Still, the resulting media storm had been overwhelming. Scott and his kiss had been covered by just about every media outlet for days and Kip had been forced to put all his socials on private and try to focus on his studies to distance himself for a short while. He had even taken time off work so he could avoid public areas.

The Admirals media team had dragged Scott and Kip into a crisis meeting the day after the game to form a short statement, but any media training was off the books for now, until things settled down a little and they could assess the situation. Until then, it was duck and cover. Kip was just relieved to learn that Scott’s contract wasn’t on the line, and his reputation hadn’t even taken a hit, if the polls were to be believed.

Thankfully, Kip's own life was still mostly hidden from the public, and he had even managed a small outing to the Kingfisher the other night, even if it was only for an hour to see his friends while Scott had been at a meeting with his manager.

Unfortunately Scott’s apartment was off limits for now, since the media knew his building number and it was proving too difficult to sneak past the media pack, but Scott had become almost a permanent guest in Kip’s family home, his dad embracing him like a second son and Elena had offered her own apartment if they needed some time alone (but only if Kip gave her enough notice and Scott was willing to foot her hotel bill for the night)

And then this event came along.

Apparently, Scott was always going to be invited, even before the Cup Game. He had a brilliant year, ever since he and Kip had gotten back together and was almost guaranteed an award. He had also been asked to present a lifetime achievement award for a retired player called Adam Sheppard. Kip didn’t know who that was but apparently, he was a very impressive player and a cool guy, according to Scott.

Kip hadn’t expected to be invited along. He was sure Scott was going to be busy all night, and he didn’t want to distract his boyfriend, but Scott had immediately put pain to that, presenting Kip with the plane tickets and hotel reservation for them both, muttering something about how it was a good excuse for Kip to pull out his fitted suit again. Kip had never been on a plane before and definitely never been to Vegas, so it wasn’t exactly hard to persuade him.

Of course, the media knew Scott was coming to the awards and it wasn’t a stretch to believe he would bring his boyfriend. So of course, they both knew it was going to be a crazy night. But it was their first trip and once the awards were over, Kip fully planned to enjoy his time off with the man he loved.

Still, standing in the ballroom with Scott’s friends, waiting for the show to start, Kip became increasingly aware of the eyes on him. All the interested spectators.

“You ok Kip?” A voice asked.

Kip glanced up at Carter Vaughn, the other man looking at him with something like sympathy as he broke away from some argument going on between Bennett and Huff. He knew just how much pressure Kip was under and had even spoken of an escape plan if things got too much. They could text Scott and he would understand if Kip needed to leave.

But Kip wasn’t a quitter and refused to let his own feelings get in the way of being here for Scott. After all, Scott had made so many concessions for him and it wasn’t fair if Kip couldn’t do this one thing. Besides, it wasn’t like this wasn’t going to happen. The media was feral for Scott and if Kip wanted this relationship to last (and he totally did) then he needed to be able to face some cameras.

“I’m fine.” Kip muttered. He glanced down at the bottle of beer he had been given when they first arrived. Scott had offered him something stronger, pointing to the open bar but Kip was so used to the cheaper stuff, it almost felt disloyal. Still, at some point during his time loitering with the others, he had finished his drink.

“I’m going to the bar.” He decided.

Vaughn looked at him.

“What me to come along?” He asked. His own drink was still full.

Kip shook his head. As much as he liked that Scott’s friends were willing to help him, this was their night, not his. He didn’t want to intrude any more than he already was. And besides, he was a big boy. He could make it to the bar and back on his own.

“It's fine. I’ll be back in a minute.” He said before stepping away. He saw Huff and Bennett briefly halt their conversation, glancing at him before Vaughn gave them a nod, indicating that they were still ok and didn’t need to enact any James Bond style shenanigans to get Kip out of there.

Slipping through the crowd, Kip tried to keep his head down and his presence small. Thankfully, his years working in the service industry served him well and he was able to move around without difficulty.

Finally, he arrived at the bar where the bartender was cleaning up after the last order. The woman behind the bar glanced at him.

“What can I get you?” She asked.

Kip glanced at the menu. He knew there was an open bar at this event but was unsure what that included. Scott had already made it clear he could get whatever he wanted, even something off menu but Kip was still hesitant to spend someone else’s money on something so trivial as a drink.

“I’m still deciding.” He said and the bartender nodded and slipped away to serve someone else. Kip picked up the list and read it, half tempted to get another beer and the other half determined not to get drunk and embarrass himself or Scott.

He was about to settle on ordering a soda when he felt someone step up to the bar beside him, almost too close. Kip glanced up from the menu and saw a pair of eyes staring at him.

The man next to him was taller, with an angular face and sharp cheekbones, his blond curls slinked back on his head with gel. Based on his build under his suit, he was probably a hockey player. Kip felt his palms go sweaty.

Scott had warned him that not every player was ready to accept them, although he doubted that anyone would try anything in such a public place. That being said, there were free drinks here and Kip didn’t want to be around if a few players were testing the limits of their alcohol tolerance.

Putting the menu down, Kip was about to step back, to try and fade into the crowd when the man smiled at him.

“You are Kip, yes?” The man asked in heavy accented English.

Kip swallowed, his throat dry. He wanted to leave. But he also didn’t want to look like a coward.

“Ah, yes. I am.” He said lamely.

The man smiled even as his eyes burned into Kip’s. A hand was thrust in his direction.

“Ilya Rozanov.” The man said.

Kip blinked. He recognised that name. The Captain of the Boston Raiders. The name Rozanov was a common curse from Scott's lips after playing Boston.

“Oh.” Kip said lamely. He had no idea what to do in this situation.

“I play against your boyfriend. Saw you at the final. I wanted to meet you. Don't worry. I don’t bite.” The man’s hand twitched, and Kip realised he was being rude.

Reaching over, he shook the hockey player's hand.

“Nice to meet you. Scott has told me about you.” Kip said.

Ilya let out a snort of laughter at that, releasing Kip's hand.

“Let me guess. He said I am asshole, correct?” the Russian asked. “I am pain? I am Russian Terror?”

Kip opened his mouth to deny it, but he found he couldn’t. He didn’t want to offend the man, but Scott had said those very words to him and Kip didn’t want to lie. He also didn’t want to anger the man. Quickly, he glanced over his shoulder towards where he knew Vaughn and the others were, but he couldn’t see them through the crowd. Turning, he expected the man to be annoyed but was surprised to see that Ilya was still smiling.

“Hunter is boring and predictable. I hope he is better in bed than on the ice. Tell him he needs better insults if he doesn’t want to be seen as old man.” The man said.

Kip blinked as the other man turned to flag down the bartender. Ilya glanced back at him.

“What are you drinking?” He asked.

“Um, I was just going to get a soda.” Kip replied.

Ilya scoffed as the bartender approached.

“No.” He said before turning to the woman.

“Two shots of the best vodka.” He ordered, reaching into his suit pocket and pulling out a few notes. “For me and my friend here.”

The bartender nodded and turned to get the drinks as Ilya slapped the notes down. Kip blinked.

“I can’t.” Kip protested. He didn’t know this guy and didn’t want anyone buying drinks for him. He was fine with the free stuff.

Ilya looked at him. Then he leant forward.

“I insist.” He said in a low, husky voice in Kip’s ear.

The man leant back, still smiling, his blue eyes almost hypnotic. Like a modern-day Rasputin, Kip's inner History Nerd warned. Kip only managed to break the gaze when he heard the rattle of glass. He glanced down at the bar where two glasses of clear liquor appeared. Without looking away from Kip’s face, Ilya pushed one towards him before grabbing the second glass.

“Cheers.” He said. He held the glass aloft, waiting. Expectant.

Realising that the Russian was content to wait for as long as it took for Kip to respond, Kip glanced down at the glass before picking it up. He offered a silent toast to the man before carefully sipping at the liquid. Ilya had no such hesitation and took a large gulp.

Kip hadn’t been much of a vodka fan. He had always found it too harsh, but this one was a lot smoother than he was used to, leaving a line of heat down his throat. He forced his face to remain still as he lowered the glass back to the counter.

After a few seconds, Ilya did the same.

“You drink like a Russian.” The man commented. “All these American’s, they all insist on ruining good vodka with their sodas and their chasers.”

“I didn’t realise that was an option.” Kip said dryly.

Ilya snorted.

“You are a brave man. I admire that.” He commented. “Hockey is not exactly kind for those who are different. Or those who they think are going to change their beloved role models. I hope no one has been giving you grief.”

“I’ve been ok. The Admirals have been awesome so far.” He said.

Something seemed to settle in Ilya’s demeanor. Like a wall was coming down.

“Good. You seem like a good person Kip. Even if you have boring taste in men.”

Kip looked at the man before him. Really looked.

“That's your thing? Insults and backhanded complements?” He asked.

Ilya glanced at him. He smirked before raising the glass to his lips again.

“Only for people I like.” He said, taking another sip of vodka.

Kip saw the opening and he took it.

“So you must really like Scott then, based on what he has told me.” He said.

Ilya choked. He actually choked on his drink.

“How dare you.” He spluttered. “I do not ‘like’ Scott Hunter. He is a complete pain in my butt.” Then, Kip swore he saw Ilya wink at him.

Kip couldn’t stop the grin at that. Somehow, the man before him had humanised himself. He wasn’t a terrifying Russian anymore. He was a goofy guy, playing a character.

“Good to know.” Kip replied. Almost absentmindedly, he raised the glass again and sipped the vodka. This time, he allowed himself to pull a face at the burn.

“You don’t have to keep drinking that to impress me.” Ilya stated. Kip shrugged.

“I was taught as a kid not to waste anything. I’m not gonna waste your money.” He replied.

Ilya stared at him for a long moment. Then he held out his hand.

“Give me your phone.” He demanded.

Kip blinked.

“What?” He asked.

“Your phone. Give.” Ilya demanded. He glanced at Kip’s startled face again. “Don't worry, I am not going to sext Hunter.” He stated.

Kip groped in his pocket for his phone before passing it to Ilya. It was an old, battered model. Scott had already offered to get him the latest iPhone, but Kip had refused. There was nothing wrong with his own model.

Opening the screen, he handed it over to Ilya who quickly typed something out before hitting send. Kip knew he had already said he wouldn’t text Scott and he was hoping the Russian wasn’t lying to him. Then he heard a faint chirping noise from Ilya’s jacket.

Ilya handed the phone back, leaving the screen open on a new saved number. The listing was ‘The Best Hockey Player (Much better than Hunter)’.

“My number.” Ilya explained. “The Admirals are good and my team will be fine but if anyone else gives you shit. Team, Coach, Press, you tell me and I will handle it.”

“Gonna send the Russian Mafia after them?” Kip couldn’t help but quip back.

“That is a mean stereotype.” Ilya said dryly and Kip immediately felt bad. Ilya was being nice in his odd way.

“Sorry.” He muttered, ducking his head.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t accurate.” The Russian. There was a hint of amusement in his voice this time, like he was sharing a joke.

Kip looked up to see that Ilya was looking down at him with a kind expression.

“I am dead serious. You deserve to be in this space. No one messes with you.” He said. “Tell me. Even Hunter, if he’s being an asshole.”

“I don’t need a bodyguard.” Kip protested.

“No.” Ilya agreed. “But it is always better to have more friends.”

Kip nodded.

“Yeah. It is.” He agreed.

Ilya smiled.

Around them, the atmosphere in the room began to shift, people slowly starting to make their way towards the tables surrounding the stage.

Kip saw Ilya glance over his shoulder and his eyes narrow. The real smile was replaced by a smirk which Kip could already guess was Ilya’s default look.

“Your man is looking for you.” He said.

Kip turned and spotted Scott, taller than most, standing in the crowd, scanning the room. He must have managed to slip away from his presenting duties for a moment to check on him. Scott’s searching eyes did another sweep of the room before landing on the bar. His warm eyes took in Kip before they looked past him and hardened, spotting Ilya.

“I had better go. We do not want Hunter to cause a scene before his big moment.” Ilya stated as Kip turned back to look at him. He could feel Scott’s eyes on them as the man began to push through the crowd towards them.

“Have a good night.” Kip replied.

Ilya raised his hand, glass of vodka still clutched between his fingers and gave Kip a small salute before stepping back into the crowd, just as Scott arrived at his side.

“Hey.” Scott greeted.

Kip turned as he felt Scott’s arm snake around his waist.

“Hey.” He replied, before leaning up on his tip toes to press a kiss against Scott’s cheek.

“Was that Rozanov?” Scott asked. “What did he want?”

“He just wanted to introduce himself.” Kip said.

Scott glanced around again, as if he would be able to see Ilya through the crowd.

“Watch out for him. He’s an asshole.” He warned.

“I don’t know. He seems really nice to me.” Kip stated. He couldn’t help but smile a little at the scowl on Scott’s face.

Scott’s hand slipped from his back and grabbed at his hand.

“Come on. The guys are already at the table. I wanted to make sure you were there before I have to go backstage again.” He said. He began pulling Kip away from the bar and towards the table set out for the Admirals. Kip turned and grabbed the half empty glass of vodka before they got too far. He wasn’t going to say anything, but he could feel himself developing a taste for it.

—--

Slipping into his seat at the table set for the Raiders, Ilya quickly fished out his phone from his pocket and pulled up the new text from an unknown number.

He smirked at it. His mission had been a success. Not only had he gotten under Hunter’s skin just by standing at the Bar, but he had made a new friend.

Quickly adding the number to his contacts, he carefully listed it under ‘Hunter’s interesting other half, Kip’ before saving it. He would text the man tonight, to make sure he was fine and probably annoy Hunter even more when the other man learnt they were texting.

Kip was a good person. And Ilya wasn’t kidding when he said he would deal with anyone who said anything mean to the man. On the ice or off it.

Once he had finished typing, he lowered the phone, intending to slip it into his pocket when it buzzed. Ilya raised it back to his face and opened the message from ‘Jane’.

‘What are you up to?’ J

Ilya glanced over his shoulder towards where he knew the Metros table was. Shane was sitting between his parents, looking pointedly up at the stage but from the faint light on his face, Ilya knew he had his phone in his lap. Ilya grinned before sending his reply.

‘Nothing.’ L

‘Stop causing trouble.’ J

‘I wasn’t. I was making a new friend.’ L

‘Sure you were. And Scott Hunter wasn’t about to murder you.’ J

‘Not my fault his date is hot.’ L

‘Ilya!’ J

‘But mine’s hotter.’ L

‘You are so much trouble.’ J

‘You love me.’ L

‘Yeah, I do.’ J

‘So what are you wearing under the suit?’ L

‘STOP IT!’ J

‘I will find out eventually.’ L

‘Sure you will.’ J

‘After this dumb show, your ass is mine Hollander’ L

‘Behave.’ J

Ilya smirked again as the lights dimmed and the show began. He was about to put his phone away but another text came through.

‘I love you.’ J

‘I love you too.’ L

Finally, Ilya got his phone into his pocket and turned his attention to the stage. He had good food, good friends, his love waiting for him once the show was over and proof before his very eyes that his and Shane’s love was not just possible but welcome.

In all, it was going to be a good night.