Rating:

Mature

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories:

M/M, Other

Fandoms:

Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV)

Relationships:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Eric Bennett/Kyle Swift, Kip Grady/Scott Hunter

Characters:

Eric Bennett, Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Scott Hunter (Game Changers), Kip Grady, Kyle Swift

Additional Tags:

POV Eric Bennett, No Smut, No Angst, Ilya Rozanov Loves Shane Hollander, Shane Hollander Loves Ilya Rozanov, Married Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Post-Book 6: The Long Game (Game Changers), No Beta We Live like Ilya, Humor, Fluff and Crack, Book 4: Common Goal (Game Changers)

Language:

English

Series:

Part 20 of Just Game Changer things that my brain needs to write

Stats:

Published: 2026-05-03 Words: 1,633 Chapters: 1/1

In Eric Bennett’s Defence

Summary

Rozanov said my girl, so what was I supposed to think? ft. Eric Bennett.

Notes

I'm back with a shorty short crack fic, because I saw this reddit post and needed to write something?

IMP: Includes spoilers for Common Goal!

See the picture here from the Reddit post for context, it's collapsed to avoid spoilers :)

November 2019

Rozanov

i asked my girlfriend like you said

Bennett

what

what did i say

Rozanov

she said you are not 100 years

sorry

you are 99

invite me to retirement party

i will bring you walking stick gift

Bennett

it's after midnight

and you texted me to fucking chirp???

also i told you not to tell anyone about the retirement

Rozanov

just finished fucking my girl

she already knew you will retire

and i asked her if she can hear your creaky bones also

Bennett

fuck off

why is your girl even talking about me after sex

or about hockey for that matter

Rozanov

she likes hockey pillow talk

makes her hot and wet

and she is so prettyyy

Bennett

okay that's it

i'm done with you

Rozanov

is past bedtime?

for my girl also

i know so many boring people

Bennett

bye rozanov

Rozanov

hope you see kyle in sweet dreams

Bennett

WHAT

Rozanov

your young blond hunter lookalike

are you losing memory in old age

Bennett

i know who kyle is

i'm not going to see him in my dreams

Rozanov

is like my girl saying 3 cherry cokes are too much

lies!

Bennett

your girl was at all stars?

she's right about the cokes

you're a pro athlete

your body should be a temple

Rozanov

ugh

my girl says this also

i cannot hear temple lecture from someone i am not fucking

*gif of rozanov leaving the frame*

𓅢𓅢𓅢

November 2021

They were on what Kyle had called a triple date, and what Eric called hell.

The Admirals had played a game with the Centaurs earlier tonight, and since Eric was retired, couldn’t he have been left out of the plan? But no, here he was on Kyle’s rare night off, sitting across from Hollander, who had Rozanov beside him, not nearly far enough away to spare Eric from the ongoing commentary about his age.

Scott and Kip were also at the Kingfisher, Scott looking just as miffed as Eric. Rozanov had, unfortunately, grown on both of them over the years, but there was still only so much of the man they could tolerate in one sitting, especially when most of that energy was directed at chirping them.

Eric and Kyle had been on a European trip and hadn’t been able to make it to the Hollander-Rozanov wedding, though he had heard from Scott that it had been really weird. Vaughn hadn’t thought so, but the man was a gossip who had friends on every other team, most of whom had been there, so he’d had a grand old time. Eric would have expected Hollander to have some control over the wedding planning, but apparently, the chaos gremlin that was Rozanov had taken over somehow.

It still boggled Eric’s mind that Hollander, the politest hockey player Eric had ever played with, was in love with fucking Rozanov. The reverse, however, was easy to understand, because Hollander was just so freaking pretty, from a purely objective perspective, of course, and Rozanov had never been subtle about liking pretty things, with all the cars and women, and, Eric supposed, Shane Hollander. That thought was still halfway through Eric’s brain when it collided, abruptly, with something else.

“Were you together in 2019?”

Hollander nodded, a little hesitantly, and Rozanov, who had been midstory with Kip and was using his hands in a way that suggested at least half of what he was saying was either exaggerated or physically impossible, turned and narrowed his eyes at Eric. “Yes, Bennett, is why I moved to boring Canada.”

Eric stalled, squinting slightly at Hollander across the table. “Fucking hell, Rozanov, were you cheating on Hollander with some girl then?”

Hollander, who had been nodding along in that attentive way he did with literally everyone, froze like a deer in headlights. Fuck, did Hollander know about that already, and was it a sore spot? Or had the two not been together then? Their statement had said they had been together for several years, but that could mean anything, especially with PR involved. Eric knew it was in poor taste to bring it up, and he knew better, but he was just so surprised by the memory of a text conversation that it had slipped out before his brain processed it.

Eric leaned back in his chair, his expression scrambling through horror and surprise before settling, inadequately, on contrite. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Why does everyone think I am cheating on Hollander? Who tells you this?” Rozanov demanded, pointing an accusing finger at Eric, “I am very good husband, I was very good boyfriend. Tell them, Hollander.”

Hollander, who was being nudged in the shoulder by Rozanov, replied evenly, “Ilya hasn’t slept with anyone but me in a few years.”

“As far as you know,” Scott muttered from beside Eric, prompting a glare from Rozanov, who seemed genuinely offended.

“I am asshole, yes,” Rozanov said harshly, his accent thickening with indignation, and Eric felt guilty for having brought it up, “but I am not cheater.”

Hollander rested a hand on Rozanov’s forearm and leaned forward to make eye contact with Eric. “What made you think Ilya was cheating on me? 2019 is rather specific.”

The entire table had gone just a little too still, like everyone was pretending not to listen while very obviously listening, and Hollander was looking at Eric directly, calm and polite and like he wouldn’t be letting this go. Eric briefly considered lying, and then dismissed it, because Hollander had that earnest way of looking at you that made lying feel vaguely embarrassing.

“Um,” Eric said slowly, dragging a hand over his face, “Rozanov texted me in, I think, December of 2019, a few weeks after the Centaurs played in New York, when he joined us at the Kingfisher for a drink.”

“This was before Kyle and I got together,” Eric added for Kyle’s benefit, and Kyle rubbed Eric’s shoulder in silent support, “Rozanov guessed that I had a little crush on Kyle, and that I was going to retire after the season and various other things he really should not have known, and I told him to keep his mouth shut.”

“You’re such an asshole, Ilya,” Hollander said fondly in contrast with his words, leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling like it might offer answers. “I don’t know how your gaydar works this well when you spend so much time actively annoying people.”

“How could you say that to your darling husband?” Rozanov pouted, an expression that should have been out of place on an asshole hockey player in his thirties but somehow wasn’t. “This is why even retired old men and old men who should be retired judge me, Hollander. You are all just jealous I am so perceptive.”

Hollander shook his head at his husband. “Barrett called you perceptive one time.”

“Anyway,” Eric cut in, interrupting what looked like the start of a certified Rozanov snit, “he told me his girlfriend also thought I should retire, and that she liked hockey pillow talk, and that it made her hot. Rozanov said he’d just finished, you know,” Eric gestured vaguely, searching for a socially acceptable phrasing and failing, “and—wait. Hollander?” Something clicked in Eric’s head.

Hollander kept his eyes on the ceiling, like he already knew exactly where this was going and wanted no part in it, but Rozanov, on the other hand, had started to smirk. “Ah, Bennett. Your old man brain is waking up.”

Bennett ignored him. “He kept saying my girl in those messages.”

“It was not a secret you would retire,” Hollander said, finally looking at Eric, wary now. “You were forty-one.”

Rozanov had a delighted smile on his face, something Eric didn’t trust as far as he could throw Rozanov, which wasn’t far at all considering how often Eric seemed to see the man even without playing hockey. “That’s what I said!”

“Fuck off, Rozanov,” Eric said automatically, still pushing through the thought because this was a gift and a curse, “so I assumed the girl was some random person he had who was weirdly invested in my retirement plans, and that there might have been some overlap, but apparently not.”

“No, no overlap,” Hollander said, choking slightly, “and I mean, you were a good goalie, but I keep up with hockey things.”

Bennett frowned, thinking harder to recall that conversation. “But then he mentioned you being at All Stars, and the cherry Coke thing.”

“That’s still gross, Ilya,” Hollander exhaled through his nose, “your body is a temple, and—”

“That’s what I said,” Eric said immediately, “but then he said—”

Rozanov slumped in his chair, like he knew there was a lecture coming and he wouldn’t be able to stop it. “I don’t listen to health advice from people I am not fucking, Bennett.”

“You don’t listen to it from people you are fucking either, Ilya,” Hollander shot back, proving Rozanov right almost immediately as he continued, and Eric, who had always been interested in healthy eating as an athlete, could admit Hollander had a point, but even Eric wasn’t as health conscious as Hollander seemed to be.

“I listen,” Rozanov said, defensive now. “I just do not understand what is there to life without McGriddles.”

Eric could have avoided this entire conversation if he had deduced that it had just been Rozanov talking about Hollander as if he were a girlfriend, like a deranged man, and Hollander, calm, polite, deeply reasonable Hollander, apparently engaging in post sex hockey discussions.

Eric briefly considered ordering a drink strong enough to erase the last five minutes, but then remembered he did not drink alcohol. Why did Eric ask questions about things when he didn’t actually want to know the answers?