Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Heated Rivalry (TV)

Relationships:

Cliff Marlow | Cliff Marleau & Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Cliff Marlow | Cliff Marleau, Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander

Additional Tags:

Wisdom Teeth, Humor, POV Cliff Marlow | Cliff Marleau, Pre-Relationship, or rather hollanov is still in the situationship/fuckbuddies era, Good Friend Cliff Marlow | Cliff Marleau, Ilya Rozanov is High on Pain Medication, Cliff Marlow | Cliff Marleau Finds Out About Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Ilya Rozanov Loves Shane Hollander, Shane Hollander Loves Ilya Rozanov

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-05-22 Words: 3,032 Chapters: 1/1

The Things You Said While High On Meds

Summary

Whatever Cliff had expected when he had thought about babysitting a stoned-to-the-tonsils Ilya Rozanov, it hadn't been this...

Notes

This fic was inspired by a random scene I had in my mind about established-but-secret Hollanov, with Shane getting a call by Stoned!Ilya... this turned out a bit differently, but the plot and the characters just do what they want sometimes!

Set somewhere late during the situationship era but probably pre tuna meltdown & Rose, canon-compliant up to that point.

"Marleau!" Roz snatched Cliff by the shoulder before he could walk out the door to escape the locker room after practice. "You're driving home with me tonight."

"Okay?" He was a bit perplexed about the kidnapping, but he had long ago learned that sometimes, he needed to just go along with whatever the hell his Captain was getting up to. And Cliff's car might get abandoned in the parking lot for tonight, but whatever, he could Uber in and get it tomorrow. Or make Rozanov drive him, the bastard, after whatever he'd drag Cliff into tonight he'd probably owe him anyway...

"Okey." Cap started as soon as they were secluded in his newest sports car. Cliff was a bit distracted by the leather upholstery, but Roz snapping his fingers in front of his face impatiently forced him to pay attention. 

"What?"

"Okey. I need you to do thing for me, and I need you to not ask fuckass questions, and not let the others make stupid video and post to internet. Actually, better to not tell them is happening so they're not getting ideas."

"Uh, what?" Maybe that was a 'fuckass question' already, but in his defense, Cliff had genuinely no idea what Roz was getting on about.

"You remember, when Connors had wisdom teeth ext, removal? And Carmy made funny video of him whining about girlfriend and talking about mouth being cotton candy without the sweet?' 

"Uh, yeah? ...so?"

"I have seen my mother lying dead when I was twelve, Marly. My father is a fucking dick. Russia is fucking, is Russia, is..."

Jesus. He had not expected to hear all about Cap's childhood trauma today. Knowing that the guy trusted him with it was pretty cool, but like... Jesus.

Roz continued the sentence with some biting Russian, and Cliff just felt lost. "Uh, Cap. What?" 

Ilya rolled his eyes in frustration. "Well, would not be fucking funny video for me to talk about sad shit high on pain meds, maybe! I have wisdom teeth thing next Monday, you are babysitting, and you are not fucking putting video in your Instagram. Okey?"

"Whoa, damn. Okay, okay. I'm not gonna tell anyone, man. Whatever secrets you spill while you're high are safe with me." 

There's a moment of silence. Roz nods, then just keeps looking at him until Cliff starts to squirm.

"Um, can I get in my own car now, or...?"

"Da, I will text you details." Roz shoos him away, and Cliff flees his Captain's car as if the smooth new upholstery had bitten him in the ass. Honestly, this had been way too many shocks and other emotions than could be good for anybody.

Whatever Cliff had expected when he had thought about babysitting a stoned-to-the-tonsils Ilya Rozanov, it hadn't been this.

Well, to be honest he had mostly just avoided thinking about it entirely, because what Roz had talked about sounded fucking depressing, but... Well, Roz had expected it to be fucking depressing, right? That's why he had asked Cliff to babysit in the first place. Cliff still feels kinda honored that Roz trusted him with all that. Which is why he doesn't pull his phone out to record a funny video of stoned!Cap now, because that would probably be breaking his trust at least a little, even though Roz isn't acting depressed at all.

Instead, he's just acting in love.

"My shhjane," Roz slurs, blinking dreamily up at the ceiling from where he's lying on the cot-thingy at the dentist's. The overhead lights are way too bright to be staring at them like that, but Cliff figures that Cap is too out of it to notice if the lights start blurring his vision. "Ssoo pretty. Pretty-venushki. Pretty vensh, venush-freckles! Freckkl's. Glupyy Yazyk. No tak krasivo! Moya lyubov..."

"You know I don't understand a word of that, right, dude?" Cliff grins. High!Rozanov is a fun Rozanov. It also makes him realize that what he had previously thought of as drunk!Roz had probably been only-barely-tipsy-Roz, because he had never started babbling mushy nonsense about his Montreal girl like this, nor forgotten which language he was speaking... 

It's definitely Montreal-Jane that he is talking about, and his Montreal girl has been around since forever, so the mushy feelings are probably not new either, but until now, Cliff had never even gotten Rozy to admit that the girl is more than just one of many hookups to him. Which like, that would be fine if she was just a girl on his roster, but she so obviously isn't only that, so why is Cap always pretending that that's all she is?

"Marly!" Ilya beams at him, the carefree expression on his face combined with the wisdom-teeth-less chipmunk cheeks making him look like a little boy. "M'best frie'd!" 

"Hey, Rozy. You're my best friend too, you know?" 

"Yeah?" Roz blinks up at him with big emotional eyes, and fuck if Cliff isn't feeling some feelings now about being called his Captain's best friend. Sure, he'd known that they're close, closer than most of the other teammates but... Well, he doesn't think he ever had a real best friend before.

"Sure, man. No-one better than you to have as a friend." 

"Th'n why donshu callm'Ilyusha?" Roz slurs, blinking quickly - fuck, are those tears?

"Uuh, what? Call you... Oh! you want me to call you your first name? Sure, we can do that, Ilya. Uh, Cliff, nice to meet you?" Wait, that's stupid, calling each other different names doesn't warrant a re-introduction. Cliff quickly pats Ilya's shoulder to try and get past the awkwardness, hoping to move past it quickly, but instead of looking appeased, he frowns up at him.

"Tha's not imy-my, my name. Can't, proizno-pronou- say it, stupid amaerican -" 

"Oy!" 

Ilya shakes his head, winces, waves his hand around instead and gets briefly distracted by squinting at it in front of his face before returning his attention to Cliff. "Nno. Maybe, good though you can't say it, that you say e-lee-ya, because if hear Il-ya, think is my father, is angry..."

"Shit, man." Cliff murmurs, really not sure what to say to that. Well, Roz had warned him... "Wait, then why'd you ask me to call you that?" 

"Noooou." Ilya once again tries to shake his head, winces, shakes himself and winces even more. "No, no, no. Ilyusha. Eel-ush-ah. Is, like, is friendly name? Friend name? And, we are best friends, Marly. Is not good, calling friends full name."

"Shit, okay." Cliff ignores that Ilya is still calling him Marly instead of Cliff or some nickname of his first name - he should totally be able to get away with calling him Roz or Rozy if Cap is still calling him a nickname of his last name too, but he isn't about to argue with a stoned person - and pats his shoulder. "Ilosha, right?" A nickname? A Russian thing? Well, not like Roz - or Ilusha, or whatever - is in any state to properly explain it right now. Cliff will just have to ask him about it later.

Finally, they get the all-clear to leave. Somehow, Cliff gets his Captain (and best friend!) out of the clinic, into his car and back to Roz's place without letting him crash into the floor or steal the flowers from his neighbor's windowsill, all of which is quite a struggle because Ilya is very easily distracted by dogs, shiny things, thoughts about Jane and who knows what else, and doesn't have an ounce of balance to keep him upright while trying to escape Cliff's steadying hands when trying to get to whatever has caught his attention this time. 

The flowerpot, too, was supposed to be for Jane, and Cliff only manages to get Ilya to put it back by reminding him that his girlfriend isn't in Boston and he'd be better off sending her a flower delivery in Montreal. 

"Yes, yes! Will send pretty flowers for pretty Jane. Come, come! Need to get, get phone and buy flowers f'r mysheyne." 

Cliff obediently follows Ilya inside, watches as he kicks off his shoes, drops down on the couch and fishes for his phone. 

Well, when it comes to stoned impulse purchases, Cliff figures flowers for his girl are probably tame enough that he can just leave Roz to it while he looks through the doctor's instructions, meds and stuff that he had collected for him... 

Looking up between trying to decipher too many long words in tiny font, Cliff finds Ilya bent over and staring at the phone close to his nose with the most intensely focused expression on his face. "Fucking whipped, man..."

The next time Cliff pays attention to Ilya, he finds him looking desolately at the ceiling. 

"Shit, man, everything alright?" It's probably just something stupid, like Jane not texting back immediately, but... Damn, Cap looks fucking heartbroken. 

"I cannot send pretty Jane pretty flowers," Ilya sniffles, rolling his head towards Cliff along the headrest of the couch and blinking wetly. "I do not know address." 

Cliff's lip twitches. Don't laugh, don't laugh. Shit, of course Roz had to have his girl's address somewhere, it's not like she goes to his hotel room when they meet up in Montreal - Cliff knows that for sure because he and Ilya usually room together, and in Montreal he knows he almost definitely gets the shared room to himself. Cap's fucking despair over not remembering the address for, what, a flower shop online form?, is pretty damn funny, but Cliff doesn't want Ilya to think that he is laughing at him. Even though he totally is. 

"Uh, you got it written down somewhere? Chat history, or something?" 

Ilya's eyes get even wetter. He looks a bit like a sad hamster. "I do not have." 

"I'm sure you'll find it when you're, uh, not so stoned anymore, then you can send her all the flowers you want. Wait, do you need a new icepack? And new gauze..." 

Ilya placidly lets Cliff exchange the gauze thingies as per the doctor's instructions and maneuver him to lie sideways on the couch with an icepack on his cheek, but he never stops looking like a kicked puppy. 

"Damn, you really want to send your girl flowers right the fuck now, huh? Maybe you could ask her to send you her address again?" 

"N't my girl," Ilya mumbles before lighting up. "Yes! I will call, will call beautiful Shanya, where is, give phone!" 

Snorting, Cliff fishes Ilya's phone from where it must've dropped to the floor and watches him as he pokes at the screen with intense focus, selecting a number near the top of his pinned contacts.

He almost drops the phone several times in an attempt to call the girl, growing visibly more and more frustrated, and in the end Cliff just snatches it from his hands, finds the call button and puts the phone on speaker before placing it on the coffee table in front of Ilya. He figures if the call delves into phone sex, he can always just leave the room... and Ilya is probably on way too many drugs for his dick to work, anyway. 

"Rozanov?" the tinny voice on the phone speaker is confused, vaguely familiar to Cliff, and unmistakably male.

Cliff freezes in his tracks, staring dumbly at the screen that still reads 'Jane'. 

"Tjeyne!" Ilya crows happily, sitting up and dislodging the ice pack, then leaning down and almost smacking his face into the coffee table in his attempt to get closer to the phone. Cliff quickly scruffs him and pulls him back up before he can knock himself out. Right, freaking out about his Captain's secret boyfriend later, making sure he survives his drugged dumb state of mind first. 

"Moya, my Sheyne! I need to buy pretty flowers for pretty freckles!" 

Oh. Oh, holy shit, Cliff is almost sure he knows what name Ilya is actually trying to say here. Holy fuck. 

"Are you drunk?" Shane Hollander asks, sounding just as perplexed as Cliff feels. "What the fuck are you talking about, Rozanov?" 

Wait, why does Hollander call Roz by his last name and not, what was it, Ilyusha? Is he not the boyfriend after all? 

"Nye-nou, not drunk, only the, ah, for when you have pain?"

Hollander gasps in shock, but Ilya doesn't seem to notice, just keeps talking. "I don't want to take any more, but they give me many because of the, the mean teeth, mean old... clever? No, they are dumb teeth, but they called, blyat -"

"Wisdom teeth?" Hollander asks over the phone. "You got your wisdom teeth removed? Shit, Rozanov, don't scare me like that, I thought you'd been in an accident or something." 

Okay, definitely worried about him. So probably Hollander is Montreal Jane? Cliff is very confused.

"Nyet, no accident." Ilya leans forward again, and Cliff lets him slowly lower his cheek onto the coffee table next to the phone, only to have Ilya perk up and knock his head back into Cliff's nose a second later. 

"Oof!" He curses under his breath, hopes the phone doesn't pick it up, he's too curious about Ilya and Hollander to not want to hear more of this phone call. Hell, not even just because it's Hollander, but because he finally gets some first hand knowledge about Montreal Jane!

"Were you worried? You were worried!" Ilya crows, delighted. "You liiiike me -" 

"Fucking hell, Rozanov." Hollander murmurs, probably embarrassed about the juvenile phrasing or something, Cliff is rather more occupied with holding his nose and trying not to groan in pain at the moment. 

"I l'ke you too, Shheyne," Ilya slurs. "Want to buy you flowers, send you, but I don't know address. Only stupid hookup building, and you not there, and flowers will go sad an', odmirat', go bad and sad, and," Ilya sniffles, "an'you won't know I got you pretty flowers for pretty freckles, freckles I like like I like you. Myshane." 

His chin thuds down onto the coffee table just in front of the phone. Ilya pouts and blinks at it, looking like a sad abandoned puppydog, going cross-eyed as he tries to look down at the screen.

"...Jesus." Hollander murmurs, then takes a deep breath. "If I send you my address, will you please not bury my house in roses or some shit, okay, Ilya? Rozanov. ...Ilya." 

"Nnot Roses. Lilies, from Lily." 

"Sure, okay." Hollander clears his throat. Ilya starts to mumble something about tomatoes but Hollander interrupts him before Cliff can even begin to parse what the hell that could be about. "Um. Thank you. Just not too many, okay?" 

"Nothing is too many dlya krasivyy-" 

"For fuck's sake, I'm so serious, Ilya!" 

"Nghh okey, only too little, too - few! toofew, too-few, flowers for m' precious Jane." Ilya's head rolls to the side, he drifts off to a low mumble.

Hollander makes some sort of noise, coughs, starts talking and interrupts himself a couple times before finally asking: "Are you alright? Should you be alone right now, are you still at the doctor's?" 

Cliff never would have thought that The Shane Hollander could be so awkward. Well, he also never would have thought that his Captain was in love with him, so maybe it was a day for reevaluations. 

"Ah, no, am home. Boston, not Moscow. Not, Moscow it is not really home either, have not felt home since my mama..." Ilya continues in slurred Russian. 

"Rozanov? Ilya, are you okay?" Hollander asks, really sounding worried now. "Is there anyone I can - I mean, is there anyone in Boston you could call?" 

"Ah, Cliff, he is here... Somewhere..." Ilya tries to look around but only ends up looking at the wall. Maybe a good thing, given that Cliff is definitely not supposed to hear any of this. Though, he should probably tell Ilya that he did hear it? When he's more aware of his surroundings again, though. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. 

"Good - that's good," Hollander sighs. "Um, I really got to go, but are you sure you're alright?" 

"Mmw, no, you are not here." Ilya sniffles. "So I can not be alright. But is okay." 

There's a moment of stunned silence. "Um, not what I meant." Hollander squeaks. "Not th - I miss you too? But... Um, your teeth?" 

"Is okey. Marly will get me new icepack." 

"Right. ...I'll see you in two weeks," Hollander replies, his voice going soft before he catches himself and clears his throat. "Um. Get well soon, Rozanov."

"Bye-bye, Sheyne." 

The call disconnects and Ilya blinks blearily and sadly at the phone screen until it automatically turns dark. 

Cliff shakes himself out of his stupor. Time to make real on Ilya's promise to Hollander and go get him another ice pack.

Rozanov and Hollander. Shane and Ilya (or Ilyusha rather, though now that Cliff is thinking about it, Hollander hasn't actually said that nickname once during the entire conversation...), Jane and - Lily?, apparently. Holy fuck.

Marly decides to give Hollander the shovel talk the next time he sees him in person... And tell him about that 'Ilyusha' nickname, because if stoned, overly honest and emotional Ilya cares so much about Cliff calling him that, he can't imagine he'd want his boyfriend to call him just Ilya, or god forbid by his last name... 

Well, the meds might not have made Ilya as maudlin as he had been afraid of, but it had probably still been a good idea not to let anyone film his medicated shenanigans...

"What do you mean? Obviously, I tell you not to film because of gay secret!" Ilya throws up his hands when Cliff tells him about this conclusion a few days later. "I hope I would not say anything, so I don't tell you before, but obviously it was because of that!"

Cliff feels a bit stupid, but afterwards Ilya pulls him into a hug and thanks him for being cool about him and Hollander, and Cliff forgets all about his embarrassment, glad that he is being a good best friend, because honestly having Ilya Rozanov as his best friend - and The Shane Hollander as a best-friend-in-law - is pretty cool, too!