Rating:

Mature

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

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

Relationships:

Kip Grady/Scott Hunter, Kip Grady/Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Kip Grady, Scott Hunter (Game Changers), Ilya Rozanov

Additional Tags:

POV Alternating, POV Kip Grady, POV Scott Hunter (Game Changers), and a little POV Ilya Rozanov, Past Kip/Ilya Hookup, Current Kip/Scott, Scott Hunter night, Scott learns about said hookup at Scott Hunter night, Scott Hunter Needs a Hug (Game Changers), Kip Grady loves Scott Hunter, Scott Hunter Loves Kip Grady

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-02-22 Completed: 2026-02-24 Words: 4,470 Chapters: 3/3

Wait, Don't I Know You?

Summary

Kip wasn't into hockey before he met Scott. He got quite a surprise when the best hookup of his life showed up in the VIP section at Scott Hunter night.

Notes

Chapter 1

Prologue - Ilya

"You really do have a girl in every city, huh, Roz."

Ilya turned to look at Cliff. He was lounging on his bed in their hotel suite, watching Ilya get ready in their shared bathroom. No one else felt like going out—losing their last regular season game due to two goals in the last minute had been a real mood killer, even if it hadn’t affected their playoff seeding. Ilya, though, had had a great game. He’d scored all three of Boston’s goals, clinching the win against Shane Hollander in points, goals, and hat tricks for the season. He was going out to celebrate, whether his teammates wanted to or not.

Even if he wasn’t going to tell them why.

Or where.

"Shut your face, Marly," Ilya growled, but there was no real threat in it, and they both knew it. Ilya gave up on his hair. It was windy anyway. It wouldn’t stay how he wanted, and besides, it looked fine. Plus, his shirt was essentially see-through. He wasn’t going to have any problems picking up tonight.

Then - Kip

The bartender gave them three shots instead of two, but Kip didn’t mind. He downed his, then the extra when Elena pushed it toward him. It was fitting, he guessed. They were here celebrating him. Or, more specifically, his thesis and its brand new complete and submitted status. He’d barely set the glass back down before Elena starting pulling at his arm, dragging him onto the dance floor.

Kip had no concept of time passing. The songs blended into each other, the flashing lights hypnotized him. Elena looked gorgeous, as always. She’d gotten countless offers to dance, but had turned them all down to keep dancing with Kip. He felt a little bad about that, but not too much. She’d promised to be his wing-woman, and he knew she’d have no problem finding someone once his night was sorted.

He let himself get wholly lost in it. The music, the lights. The press of bodies all around him, his hands on Elena’s waist. The feeling of finally, finally, being done with his mountain of a thesis and able to fully let loose without worrying about being coherent enough to write the next morning.

Elena’s voice cut through the haze. "That guy is totally eyeing you up."

Kip planned to pass on whoever it was, not feeling ready to shift the tone of the night just yet. But when he caught a glimpse of the man Elena pointed out, those thoughts went right out the window. Because holy fuck, was the guy hot. His hair was a mess of golden curls, he was tall enough he stood out against the crowd, he was sturdy. And most of all, he was looking at Kip like he wanted to bite.

Kip caught the man’s eye, and he immediately headed over. Elena subtly moving away, leaving space for the man to fill. He wasted no time, sliding behind Kip like he’d been there before. Kip felt hands cautiously circle his waist, turning into a firm grip once he’d pushed back against the man to signal his interest. He danced freely against the man for the rest of the song, then turned to face him, wrapping his arm’s around his neck as he ground their groins together. He didn’t want to leave any uncertainty about his desires for the night. Thankfully, the man matched his heat, leaning in to nip at Kip’s neck. Before long, Kip had dragged him off the dance floor, trapping the man against the wall and attacking him with his mouth.

"What’s your name?" Kip asked when he pulled back to catch his breath, shouting over the music.

"Hmm." The man smirked at him. "Vasya," he supplied with a pronounced accent that Kip couldn’t place.

"Really?" Kip said. Something about the man’s demeanor made him question it.

"Nope," the man said blithely. "What’s yours?’

Well, if they were playing that game… "Topher," Kip supplied, just as casually. The man repeated it carefully, as if the testing the shape of it on his lips. Then he grinned and dove back in for another kiss. Kip readily obliged. Again and again.

The man was quite talented with his mouth. For a while, it distracted Kip so thoroughly that he could think of nothing but getting enough breath to make each kiss as long as possible. Then, his mind came up with an even hotter thought—what that mouth would feel like on his cock.

The next time Kip pulled back, he didn’t immediately dive back in. "Want to get out of here?"

Vasya looked him over for a moment, like he was searching for something, then nodded tightly. "Hmm, yes."

Kip still couldn’t place his accent, but he didn’t give it much thought. He had much more important things to think about, like texting Elena that he was leaving and leading the man out of the club.

They hit a roadblock when Kip went to order an Uber. He suggested going to the man’s place, citing roommates, but the man shook his head tightly. "Ah, no. I am traveling. Work. My coworkers cannot know."

Kip froze, not liking the first conclusion he came to. He carefully asked, "Are you married?" If the guy was, it didn’t matter how hot he was. Kip was not looking to help someone cheat.

"No! No, not married," Vasya said, and Kip breathed a sigh of relief. The man continued, "But they do not know that I am, uh." He gestured between the two of them.

"Gay?" Kip supplied, his hopes flailing when the man started adamantly denying that.Kip didn’t mind if this guy was in the closet, but he really wasn’t in the mood for someone who was lying to themselves. But that worry was as baseless as the last.

"I do not know word," the man said hesitantly, his accent stronger in his uncertainty. "But no, not gay. I like women, so not gay. Both."

Kip stared for a moment.

The guy seemed to realize how his denial had sounded. "Gay is okay. You can say I am gay. I do not mind word. I just wanted to be, uh. Not liar."

Kip took a deep breath, cursing himself for all his jumping to conclusions. "It’s fine, I didn’t mean anything by it." He looked the man over again, then gentled his voice. "The word is bisexual, if you want to use it."

"Bisexual," the man repeated, carefully. "Yes. I like this." He gestured to Kip’s phone. "But yes. Coworkers do not know."

Kip slid his phone back into the pocket of his too-tight jeans. "I know a place close by, then. You got cash?"

The man grinned. "Plenty."

They’d been barely into the room before Vasya had Kip’s jeans on the floor and was pushing him back onto the bed, crawling over him to press their mouths together. Before Kip had tasted his fill, Vasya slid down Kip’s body and deftly rolled a condom into place. He winked cheekily, like an asshole, then swallowed Kip down and proceeded to give him the best blowjob Kip had ever gotten in his entire life.

Kip held out as long as he could because he didn’t want it to end. He wanted Vasya’s mouth to stay on him forever. But there was something he wanted more, and he wasn’t sure he’d still be in the mood if he came now.

"Oh God, stop. Stop," Kip moaned, tugging on Vasya’s hair to pull him off.

The man fucking licked his lips then smirked. "Too good?"

Kip was in a daze, and he must not have responded quickly enough because Vasya’s entire demeanor softened, "You are okay?" He moved back up to press a gentle kiss to Kip’s cheek and ran his fingers softly through Kip’s curls until Kip gathered himself.

"Too good," he agreed with a huff of laughter, then pulled Vasya in for a kiss. "Amazing. But I want you to fuck me, if you want. Fuck me hard."

Vasya grinned. "I think I can manage that."

Chapter 2

Interlude - Ilya

Hunter’s eyes widened when he recognized Ilya. Ilya grinned in response. Hunter had invited them all to this 'Scott Hunter Night', after all.

Then Ilya gave him shit, because of course he did, but he made sure to be earnest too. Made sure to say what he came here to say. That Hunter was brave. That he was making a difference, even if it was just in the lives of two fools who’d fallen in love despite the odds.

Ilya said what he wanted, then moved to leave. He could fade into the crowd, spend the rest of the night ignoring the little Admirals party and just letting loose. If anyone saw him dancing a little too closely to the myriad of hot men in the club and asked later, he had the excuse of getting into the spirit of the night.

But then Hunter invited Ilya to join his group, and Ilya couldn’t resist. "A chance to meet your Topher? How can I resist?"

"Topher?" Hunter gave him a confused look, so Ilya assumed he didn’t know. This was going to be fun.

"Christopher, yes? Your boyfriend?"

"He goes by Kip," Scott said firmly.

"Ah, my mistake," Ilya said, smirking. "I could have sworn he went by Topher."

Now - Kip

Kip smiled as Scott made his way back to the couch they’d claimed, then blanched when he saw who was behind him. He was about to ask what was going on, but Carter beat him to it.

"What the fuck is that guy doing here?”

But now Kip was concerned and confused, because why did Carter know his hookup from like, four years ago?

"Be nice, Carter," Scott said in an admonishing tone. "Rozanov’s here showing his support, I invited him to join us."

Kip choked on his own saliva. "That is Rozanov?"

Vasya, no, Rozanov, smirked at Kip while Scott stared at him, his confusion clear. "Yeah, Ilya Rozanov. I know I’ve mentioned him."

That was the understatement of all understatements. Scott complained about Rozanov every time Boston was mentioned. And brought up Boston just so he could complain about Rozanov.

The complaints were always the same. That he was an asshole. That he had been his entire career. That he never shut the fuck up, whether he was on or off the ice.

That he was too fucking good so Scott couldn’t even be that mad at his cockiness, because it was justified.

Scott had never mentioned that Rozanov was sweet. That he was considerate. That he had the most incredible mouth Kip had ever felt.

Fuck.

It dawned on Kip, then. That conversation from years ago. That Vasya’s coworkers didn’t know about him, that they couldn’t know. They probably still didn’t know; if they did, Kip and Scott wouldn’t have been such a big deal.

Kip’s thoughts ran wild, trying to think of an excuse for his reaction that wasn’t the truth. He couldn’t out someone, even to Scott. At least Carter had turned back to Gloria once Scott had scolded him.

But then Kip realized: Rozanov was here, and he’d chosen to follow Scott back. He had to have known. Kip’s face had been splashed across every newspaper, website, and TV screen in the country. Probably Canada too. There’s no way Vasya—no, Ilya—didn’t know exactly who Scott was dating.

In joining them, Rozanov had already made his decision.

That was made more evident when he greeted Kip. "Hello, Topher."

Scott looked exasperated. "I told you, it’s Kip."

Kip spoke over his boyfriend, rolling his eyes. "Hello, Vasya."

"Ah, you remember!" Ilya looked delighted. "I was not sure, Hunter seems very confused. But I understand, perhaps he is too boring to tell about your sexy past."

"Wait." Scott’s focus bounced between them rapidly. "Wait."

Kip reached out to Scott, pulling him to the couch beside him. He had a feeling Scott would need to be sitting to survive this. The contact between them would only help. "Scott," he said gently.

"You two?" Scott asked incredulously.

"Years ago," Kip confirmed.

A look of concern crossed Ilya's face, but his smirk was back in flash. "Yes, Hunter. Long ago. No need to worry."

Scott stared at Ilya. "You're gay?"

"Bi," Kip corrected automatically, at the same time Ilya said, "Bisexual."

Ilya smiled, acknowledging him, then continued, "Kip taught me the word. I like it."

"You?" Scott asked again. Kip didn't know whether to comfort Scott or smack him.

"Yes, yes," Rozanov said, waving his hand around, "I sleep with women. Tabloids always say. Many women." He glanced at the rest of the Admirals crew, who were still engaged in their own conversations, then continued more softly, "I sleep with few men." Then he winked at Kip, "Only special ones."

Kip laughed out loud, but Scott was still sitting dumbfounded. He didn't even react to Ilya's flirtations.

"Come on, Hunter. Is not so big a surprise, yes? I was told you already knew about me. Figured it out."

Scott spluttered as Ilya finished.

"Seems you did not know. I will have to tell my Jane."

Kip wondered who this Jane was, and why they'd discussed whether Scott knew Ilya's sexuality. Especially since Ilya had just implied his relationships with women were generally of the hookup variety.

Although, he supposed, with Ilya's accent, it almost sounded like something else. Almost, maybe, like Shane? Kip wasn't sure if that was anyone either.

Scott had turned ashen, though, so he apparently knew who Ilya meant. "Hollander?"

"He said he emailed you, yes? About how you are very brave? Make a difference?"

"I mean, yes, but," Scott tried.

"Ah, but he is nice, boring Canadian. You think nothing of it."

Scott nodded warily.

"He is nice, boring Canadian," Ilya granted. "But he is also very special to me. And me to him. Even years ago," he said, nodding towards Kip again.

"You and Shane Hollander," Scott mused. "And he thought I knew? Why? What could I have done to make him think…" he trailed off. Rozanov grinned at him.

"Yes, you make mean joke. So mean that most boring player in the league punches you."

"Fuck," Scott muttered. Kip remembered texting him about that fight, remembered Scott's surprise on its escalation. How he didn't understand why comparing someone to their rival ended in blows.

If this Shane had thought Scott was threatening him about knowing not only his sexuality but that of his… lover? boyfriend? whatever they were, the fight suddenly made a lot more sense.

Scott was still trying to process. "And Hollander's okay with you saying that?"

"That he's boring? He knows." Ilya was nonchalant again, but Kip could see how his face had softened, seemingly unconsciously. He was starting to think 'boring' meant something else—something more—to Ilya, at least when he was talking about Shane Hollander.

"Who cares that he’s boring?" Scott squawked. "You can’t just go around telling anyone that he’s," Scott glanced over his friends then lowered his voice, "gay."

"I am not telling 'anyone'," Ilya said slowly, as if he thought Scott wasn’t keeping up. "I am telling you. And Kip."

"You can’t just—"

"Hunter." Ilya waited for Scott to look him in the eye before continuing. "I talked to him, before. He knows I am here. He said he trusts you to keep secret." His gaze hardened into a glare then, daring them to contradict him. Ilya accepted whatever he saw on their faces, because he brightened again. His eyes danced mischievously. "I have been fucking him since before rookie season, I am very good at not telling."

Kip glanced at Scott. He didn’t know if that had been long, didn’t know what that meant. Based on how Scott’s mouth was hanging open, it was significant.

"Since, since—"

Ilya waved him off. "Yes, yes. Your world is blown. Hollander is not so boring after all. I know it is a lot to take in."

Scott made a strangled noise. Ilya ignored him.

"Time to dance now, yes?" He turned to shout at the rest of the Admirals party. "Alright, fuckers. Bet I can dance better than you all, yes?" He smirked at the resulting jeers and started toward the dance floor. "Come prove me wrong, then."

And with one last wink at Kip, he was gone.

Chapter 3

Coda - Scott

Scott waited until they were back in their hotel room to bring it up. The whole Kip and Rozanov thing. It’d been easy to let it leave his mind while they were at the club, dancing, surrounded by friends; while they were in that weird limbo state where nothing mattered but the present moment. But as soon as they left? His mind had gone wild.

Still, he waited to bring it up, letting Kip get changed first, even if getting changed was just pulling off his clubbing clothes and slipping into one of the hotel’s exceptionally soft robes that would no doubt be taken back off in a matter of minutes. But then Kip spoke first.

"You okay?" Kip asked him gently, no doubt surprised Scott hadn’t also made the switch to something more comfortable.

"Yes. Yes," he reassured. Sure, Scott wanted to talk about it, but he didn’t want Kip to feel trapped, like he had to be wary of Scott’s mood, that he had to take care of Scott more than himself. "I’m so good. I’m glad you were here with me."

"Scott…" Kip said slowly, dragging it out. They knew each other well enough to know when they were talking around a subject, talking just to keep from saying something else.

"Fine, I’m not okay," Scott acquiesced. Might as well. "I just can’t wrap my head around it. You and Rozanov."

"It was years ago," Kip reminded gently. "Just a hook up, it didn’t mean anything."

"It’s not that!" Scott protested. "It’s not. Look, I know you had a life before me, and I would never begrudge you that. I had one too! It’s just… Rozanov?"

Kip shrugged. "He was sweet."

"Sweet?" Scott couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

"Y’know, checked in a lot, took care of me?"

"And you… remember this? From years ago? I mean, you even remembered the fake name he used!"

Kip blushed.

"Wait." Scott started connecting some dots in his mind. He didn’t want to connect them, but suddenly it all made sense. "You said once, when we were talking about our pasts." He trailed off. Kip’s blush was getting darker, which no doubt meant Scott was right. He really didn’t want to be.

"Kip, please tell me that Rozanov is not the guy you compared all your other hookups to. That was the best you’d ever had."

"Besides you!" Kip interjected quickly. He’d always stressed that, that even his best hookup didn’t compare to sex with Scott. Scott had always accepted the platitude, knowing full well that’s what it was. He’d never really cared. He didn’t need to be the man Kip’d had the best sex with. He was the man Kip chose to live his life with. Nothing could beat that high.

But now?

Scott needed to know.

"Kip," he prodded carefully, trying to convey that this didn’t actually matter. Even if he felt like he was going to die if he’d been trying to live up to fucking Ilya Rozanov.

Kip’s eyes searched his face as if looking for some sign. "Do you want me to lie?"

That was answer enough, wasn’t it.

"Fuck," Scott swore. "Fuck. I just, I need a minute." He rushed to the bathroom and locked himself in, actively choosing to ignore the soft protests that followed him.

Scott leaned hard against the vanity, staring at himself in the mirror while trying to calm his breathing. It didn't work. In a panic, he turned the shower on and stripped quickly, getting in as soon as the temperature was bearable. He didn't like that he'd locked Kip out, emotionally since they’d left the club, and now physically, but he needed it. Needed the space, needed a minute to get his head on straight.

This didn't matter. Or, well, it shouldn't. Why should it matter that Kip had slept with Rozanov once upon a time? That he was the best lay Kip had ever had?

Fuck. That's what he didn't want to think about.

He forced his thoughts away, focused himself on the heat and comfort of the water. Regulated his breathing like he would in those last few moments before taking the ice. Let the water warm him up and calm him down. Brought himself as close to baseline as he could. Once there, he gave himself five more deep breaths, counting them in his mind, before he turned the water off. 

Thankfully his robe was still in the bathroom from getting ready earlier, so he had something to put on after. He knew he didn't need to, not really. It was only him and Kip, after all. But he didn’t want to be naked for the conversation he was about to have. He was ready for it, now. Ready to bare his soul for Kip. He’d take the security and comfort that piece of cloth provided.

Scott took a deep breath, then emerged.

He’d expected Kip to be on his phone.

Assumed he'd be texting Elena to dissect the situation. No doubt coming to the conclusion that Scott was not good enough for Kip. Yet again.

But Kip wasn’t on the phone. His phone was halfway across the room, abandoned near his pile of clothes, so it wasn’t even like he’d just put it down. He was sprawled on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The robe had fallen to the sides of his spread legs in a way that Scott would find way too tempting if he wasn’t so out of sorts. It didn’t matter anyway, since Kip scrambled to sit up when he saw Scott. "Hey," he said softly, cautiously.

"Hey," Scott responded, just as softly. He hesitated a moment by the edge of the bed, then crawled up to sit beside Kip. Kip lifted his arm, and Scott tilted over to rest his head on Kip’s shoulder. He took a deep breath as Kip started running his fingers through Scott’s hair, willing himself to stay calm. "Can I be too intense?"

Since that first morning, those words had become a sort of code between them. An I need to say something, and I need you to listen. A This is hard for me, and too much, and I’m scared of you leaving because of this, but not telling you everything scares me more.

Kip’s fingers stilled in his hair, just long enough for Scott to start worrying, before starting again. "Of course," Kip replied.

Scott pressed harder into Kip’s side. "I don’t want to feel like this. But I can’t stop thinking that I’ve spent the better half of my career trying to keep up with Rozanov. Trying to prove I’m just as good as him and Hollander and any of the younger players dominating on the ice. And the thought that it wasn’t just hockey that I had to keep up with him in? That it was with you too? It’s a lot for me. It’s almost too much."

He felt Kip stiffen and knew he’d said it wrong. He tried to correct. "Not us that’s too much, but the expectation. The worry that every time I’m intimate with you, the back of my mind will be telling me he was better."

Kip made to cut him off, no doubt to protest which of them was better, but Scott didn’t let him. That wasn’t the point he was trying to make.

"And I know it’s dumb, believe me. I know it doesn’t matter, because you’ve chosen to be with me, and I am so, so grateful for that. I love you so much, Kip, I can’t even put it into words."

"I love you too, baby," Kip murmured, pressing a kiss to Scott’s head.

"I’m just worried I won’t be enough for you," Scott admitted. "I wasn’t for a long time. And I had this stupid thought that when I stopped hiding, when I kissed you in front of everyone, that that would be it. That I wouldn’t have to fight to be enough for you anymore. That we could just be us, and that any problems we’d have would be because of us. Not anyone else. And that lasted, what, not even a month?"

"Scott," Kip said gently. More gently than he deserved.

Scott shook his head against Kip but didn’t say anything. He’d said what he wanted to. Now it was Kip’s turn. To accept him or cast him out or whatever else Kip wanted to do. Whatever Kip wanted, Scott would do. He was sure of that.

"Scott," Kip repeated. "I need you to listen to me."

"I’m listening," Scott whispered. He would listen to every single word, every single syllable that came out of Kip’s mouth. Now, and forever. As long as Kip let him.

"You are enough."

Scott whimpered. He didn’t mean to, but he did.

"You are. You’re enough for me. I love you."

Scott couldn’t handle that. He slid down, burying his face into Kip’s stomach.

"I know, baby. I know," Kip murmured. "I know it’s been a long time since you’ve felt like enough for anyone. But you are for me. Exactly how you are." He shifted them until they were both laying down, facing each other. Breathing each other in. "So, yes, I had some fun with Ilya Rozanov nearly half a decade ago. Yes, it was some pretty fucking hot sex."

That pulled a scoff out of Scott, no doubt Kip’s intention.

"But I want you, and the extremely fucking hot sex we have. And the gentle sex we have. And the relationship we have that means more to me than the best one night stand in all of history ever could."

Kip closed the distance between them, pulling Scott into a gentle kiss. "I love you, Scott Hunter."

"I love you too," Scott murmured against Kip’s lips. He grinned against them before continuing, "More than Rozanov ever could."

"Fuck off." Kip pushed his face away, laughing. "Maybe I won’t suggest we have some of that fucking hot sex, then."

"Maybe not," Scott said, smirking, and rolled away from Kip. "I mean, I did spend most the night thinking about how hard I’d fuck you, but if you don’t want to…"

"Wait, wait!" Kip cried. "I didn’t say that!"

"Yeah?"

"Get over here and fuck me, you idiot."

"Well," Scott grinned so hard his face was hurting. "If you insist."