Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

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

Relationships:

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

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Cliff Marlow | Cliff Marleau

Additional Tags:

Post-Episode: s01e06 The Cottage (Heated Rivalry), Heated Rivalry (TV) References, Post-Book 2: Heated Rivalry (Game Changers), Ilya Rozanov Loves Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov is Obsessed With Shane Hollander, Good Friend Cliff Marlow | Cliff Marleau, Cliff Marlow | Cliff Marleau Finds Out About Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, POV Cliff Marlow | Cliff Marleau, Secret Relationship, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Weddings, Best Friends

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-03-05 Words: 5,358 Chapters: 1/1

It's Nice to Have a Friend

Summary

When Cliff Marlow falls in love for the first time, he can't stop talking about it. Ilya can relate but Shane is still a secret. Slowly, he starts to consider letting Marlow have the occasional detail about his clandestine romance. After all, it's nice to have someone to confide in, even if you leave out most of the truth.

Or--Shane gets Hayden, Ilya needs a pal too.

Notes

This is my first ever post so if it's bad... That's why! Also despite having dated a Canadian for four years in the mid-aughts, my hockey knowledge has all drifted away from me. Any mistakes there can be blamed on that relationship not working out (though it turned out for the best, for both of us).

Feedback is appreciated, since again, never done this before. I just needed Ilya to have a little more support and Cliff Marlow is hot, so.

Also, my head cannon is that Marlow meets Aimee (the girlfriend) when she's been stood up for a blind date. He honestly cannot believe anyone would stand up the most beautiful woman he's ever met; she thinks it's a line (it is) but then it turns out it's actually love at first sight.

January 2018

During his final year in Boston, Ilya witnesses what he would have once deemed impossible: Cliff Marlow falls in love.

They’re out after a (winning) afternoon game, so there’s a happy hour crowd in the pub they’ve chosen near the arena. Ilya would just as soon be in his apartment, waiting to hear from his boyfriend, but Shane had a night game that night, so Ilya let himself be dragged along with Marlow and Connors and the rest of them. The rookies go somewhere louder and possibly more fun; Ilya is at least relieved to be somewhere he can hear himself think.

He knows his teammates have noticed that he’s less of a night owl these days. Marlow has mentioned it, once or twice when Ilya’s begged off from hitting the club or the bar like they used to. But even Cliff has seemed less invested in their usual late night trolling lately. They must be getting old, Ilya thinks to himself, smiling. 

He’s lost in this thought when Connors nudges him and nods toward the bar. Cliff is sitting with a girl–a woman, beautiful, of course. This is not unusual; Marlow is a good looking guy and has no trouble picking up women wherever they are. But he understands why Connors nudged him–they can both see this is different. Cliff is looking at this woman like she’s the only person in the bar. Heart eyes, Ilya thinks, smiling. Thinking of his own heart eyes directed at his boyfriend. God, he loves that word. He wishes he could tell everyone he’s ever met that Shane Hollander is his BOYFRIEND and they are IN LOVE. They have a plan, it’s a good one, but the waiting is killing him. Which is why he agreed to pass a few hours in this pub, in a city he soon won’t live in anymore. 

He isn't sad about that, exactly. Boston has been fine, good even. He was drafted here, led his team to a cup here. It's been a good start to his career. It’s probably time to move on. And, most importantly, he misses Shane like he would miss a limb. He can't imagine spending any more time apart than is absolutely necessary. The summer had ruined him: hours and days and weeks of being together and then suddenly being five hours apart again was torturous. He kept countdowns on his phone in between their stolen days together. He would be happy when the distance was finally, forever behind them. 

Still. Boston was the team that drafted him. Svetlana is here, some of the time. There are other Russians he can chat with as he goes about his day. He doesn’t get homesick exactly, certainly not for Moscow, but he thinks he’ll miss getting to speak his own language, if only when he’s ordering a coffee and pirozhki from the corner bakery he likes. There are lots of things he’ll miss about Boston, if he’s honest. But he keeps them to himself. 

He’s been daydreaming, he realizes, because everyone else has drifted away from their table without him noticing. He throws some cash on the table and stands, ready to go home and wait for Shane’s post-game phone call. He remembers Marlow at the last second and looks over at the bar. Shockingly, the girl and Marlow are still sitting there, just talking. Grinning at each other like lunatics, actually. This is bizarre; usually it doesn’t take Marlow this long to get someone to go home with him. Ilya looks a little closer and smiles. He and Connors caught something, he thinks. Clearly this isn’t the usual one night stand. Good for Marly, he thinks. Maybe it’s time for them both to settle down.

Mid-February 2018

The All Star game is in Atlanta this year, a city Aimee apparently has always wanted to visit. Ilya knows this because he knows everything about Aimee: she is a nurse at Boston Children’s; she has a cat; she thinks Cliff is hilarious; she’s brilliant and beautiful, etc. etc. The upcoming weekend (and Aimee joining them there) is all Marlow can talk about in the locker room. Is it too early to take a trip together? (Probably, yes). Will she be bored? (Again… probably, yes). Can Ilya come to dinner with them one night?

This last request catches him off guard. He and Marly are friends, obviously, but not like, best friends. He likes Marly, a lot. He’s met his parents and his sister a few times; he remembers to ask about them after the holidays and when they come back for pre-season. But he didn’t think he would rank on a list of people Marly would want to introduce his new, apparently very serious girlfriend to. Also, most importantly, Shane would be at the All Star game and Ilya had plans for them. Naked plans. 

But Cliff is weirdly nervous, it’s kind of cute actually, and is looking at Ilya so expectedly that he tells him, “sure” and smiles and figures he’ll be able to get out of it later.

The weekend is fun. People are starting to get used to seeing Rozanov and Hollander together, chirping each other in a friendly way. They’ve come a long way from the rivalry the league was so obsessed with for so long. He and Shane enter the same skills event, for kicks, and also because whoever wins gets to pick the prize. Ilya plans to win; he has many, many ideas about what he’ll do to his boyfriend in the secret hotel room he booked them on a different floor from everyone else. He sent Shane a new plug in the mail before the trip, which he knows made him blush several delicious shades of red. He should have asked to FaceTime while Shane opened the package; he loves to watch the man turn colors like that.

Unfortunately, there is no escaping Marly’s dinner invitation. Ilya wants Shane to join them, but his boyfriend is convinced it would be too much like a double date. Ilya sighs at this, because it’s true. And also he wants to be double dating. He wants to show off their relationship; he’s ready now. It’s Shane who is so obsessed with sticking to the timeline. 

The three of them meet up at some restaurant Aimee has chosen that is apparently a recommendation from one of her colleagues at the hospital. It’s nice, and close to their hotel, which is a bonus. Ilya is restless, thinking about his boyfriend waiting for him in bed, fantasizing about what Ilya wants for his prize, trying not to touch himself before Ilya returns. He takes out his phone to send Shane some sexy instructions to that effect when Marly suddenly says, “Is that Hollander?”

Ilya startles, confused. His phone is angled so Marly can’t see it, so it’s not that he knows Ilya was just texting Shane. Marly is looking over Ilya’s shoulder, towards the door, and there he is: the love of his life, awkwardly standing by the host stand. He half raises a hand toward the table. 

“Hollander!” Marly calls and waves Shane toward them. Ilya realizes he’s staring and quickly turns his back to Shane’s approach, darting his eyes between Cliff and Aimee. Aimee catches his look and smiles at him. “What are you doing here?” Marlow asks.

Shane smiles, blushing a little. “I was just… I was trying to find somewhere to eat tonight and I heard this place was decent.” He is a terrible liar but Marlow and Aimee don’t know that and hopefully don’t clock it. “I didn’t know you guys would be here,” he continues and Ilya cuts him off before he can dig himself into a deeper hole.

“Join us, Hollander,” he says lightly. “I’m third wheel, you can even us out.”

Shane blushes harder but pulls the chair out next to Ilya anyway. He shakes Marlow’s hand and is introduced to Aimee. It takes all of Ilya’s energy to keep his hands to himself and his face normal. This is a risk he honestly can’t believe Shane has taken. He is at once so surprised and so turned on, he feels like there’s wind rushing through his ears. He forces himself to focus on the small talk that seems to be continuing without him.

“This is kind of a weird weekend for you guys, huh?” Aimee is saying. “All these players in one place, guys you’ve fought on the ice. That must be bizarre.”

“No,” Shane answers. This is more shocking behavior; Shane hates small talk. He does, however, love hockey and Ilya silently thanks Aimee for leading the conversation to something his boyfriend will actually discuss. “It’s a lot of fun, seeing everyone. Competing just for fun, instead of trying to kill each other.” 

They all chuckle. Marlow winces, glancing at Shane and then looking back at his girlfriend. “I actually almost killed Hollander once.”

Ilya stiffens next to Shane, who touches his sneaker to Ilya’s under the table. He exhales.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Shane is saying. “I mean, concussion, broken collarbone but you know… Hockey.”

“Jesus, Cliff,” Aimee says, laughing. “You really know how to make friends and influence people, huh.” They all laugh again. Cliff ducks his head, smiling at Aimee like she’s the funniest person he’s ever met in his life. 

“It was a clean hit!” he insists. “He just… went down weird. I felt terrible.”

“Long time ago,” Shane supplies. They sit quietly for a minute until, blessedly, the server comes to take their orders. Shane’s foot is still pressed against Ilya’s. It’s killing him, not being able to touch him more than this. He is going to take him apart when they’re alone again.

Dinner passes, and is almost fun, if Ilya weren’t half hard under the table, dying to leave and get his boyfriend into the elevator of the hotel so he can put his hands on him properly. Aimee looks between them a couple times in a way that seems… curious. She’s smart, Ilya can tell. As a nurse, probably, but also smart about people. Maybe she can see the current between him and Shane. He can’t be positive but if she does see it, she certainly doesn’t seem disgusted. She’s not a big enough hockey fan to care about the rivalry, he guesses. Maybe no one cares about it anymore. 

Finally, they leave. Marlow insists on paying–probably to make himself look generous and kind in front of his beautiful girlfriend–and the four of them wander out the door. Ilya is practically vibrating. Luckily Aimee wants to take a romantic walk with her boyfriend, so the two peel off right outside the restaurant. Ilya takes a deep breath and stares at Shane.

“What?” Shane says, half smiling.

“You are trying to kill me, Hollander.”

Shane pulls a “what, me?” face, which makes Ilya laugh. He feels lightly unhinged. He starts walking back to the hotel, Shane keeping pace beside him.

“Are you mad?” Shane asks suddenly.

“Mad? Are you serious? I’m so fucking happy to see you!” 

Shane looks around, as if anyone on the street has heard, even though Ilya was practically whispering. “I know it was kind of… I don’t know, it was crazy maybe but I didn’t want to miss any time with you. We’re not together all that much and I… I couldn’t just wait up there.”

Ilya inhales, shakily. “You are definitely going to kill me. Race you to the hotel?”

Shane laughs, out loud this time. “That doesn’t look suspicious at all,” he teases.

They do walk fast, though, and barely make it inside the elevator before Ilya’s hands are all over his boyfriend. Shane allows this for about two seconds before gently pushing him away. “Camera,” he whispers. Ilya leans against the wall of the elevator, grinning like a fool. He still can't believe Shane showed up at the restaurant. This might be the most romantic thing he's ever done. Ilya is vibrating with need. 

When they finally get in the door, they crash into each other. Ilya's hands are everywhere, in Shane's hair, on his face, running over his abs, dipping his fingers into the waistband of his shorts. Shane is faster than him though, and sinks to his knees before Ilya can get the shorts unbuttoned. Ilya leans his head against the wall, still delighted at the quickness with which Shane gets on his knees for him. His cock fills Shane's mouth and he groans. All his previous plans are temporarily forgotten as his boyfriend stares up at him through thick lashes. He is truly the hottest man Ilya has ever seen. He comes in a minute, having been so turned on for so long, waiting for exactly this. Shane grins up at him from his spot on the floor. He stands and kisses Ilya beneath his ear. “I still want you to fuck me later,” he whispers, “I just couldn’t wait.” Ilya groans again and pushes Shane onto the bed, covering him like a blanket and rubbing his throbbing cock against his thigh. “I will do whatever you want, moy’ lyubov,” he babbles, reaching down to pull Shane’s shorts off so he can touch his hard and leaking cock. “So wet for me,” he murmurs, kissing a trail down Shane’s beautifully smooth belly. He wants to tease him but Shane is already writhing underneath him and if they want to get to round two, they’ll both need time to rest. He runs his tongue up the shaft of his dick, licking circles around the head before fully taking him into his mouth. It doesn’t take long for Shane either; he erupts into Ilya’s mouth quickly, yelling his name between gritted teeth.

Ilya flops his head onto Shane’s thigh to catch his breath. He starts giggling again. They had dinner together tonight, with another couple! Granted the other couple didn’t know it was a double date, but still! It was almost normal. And now they would spend the night together, keeping each other up like they used to, except neither of them will sneak out as soon as it’s over. 

This is his favorite All Star game, by far.

April 2018

Cliff spends every spare minute they're not on the road with Aimee, as long as she isn't working. Their schedules are crazy (Ilya can relate) but they seem happy together. She is also literally the only topic Marlow cares to discuss. Every sentence seems to start with, “Aimee said” or “Aimee thinks” or “the other day Aimee and I;” it would be cute if it weren’t so annoying. Not least because Ilya desperately wants to talk about his own relationship with someone. 

His need to feel normal and the painful way he misses Shane begin to supersede his desire to remain private. When he and Marlow find themselves sitting on the team bus together and Marly offers to fix him up with one of Aimee’s pretty nurse friends, Ilya briefly considers telling him everything. It is an insane reaction, he knows, and he stops himself. But he can't keep his mouth entirely shut. He doesn't want to be fixed up; he wants to be in Ottawa with his boring boyfriend, starting the next chapter of their lives together. Keeping this secret is actually going to kill him at some point. So he decides to tell his friend at least the partial truth.

“I don’t need to be fixed up. I am… not single anymore, Marly.”

Cliff’s eyes go wide. He grins. “No shit? Rozy! You’ve been holding out on me?”

Ilya shakes his head. “It’s long-distance. It’s been… hard.”

“Oh man, I bet. Rozy with a girlfriend, I can’t believe it. Who is she?”

This is getting more complicated than he wanted. He smiles and decides to avoid using a pronoun. “You know how there’s been someone in Montreal–”

“Yeah! Shit, that’s been for like, years, man. You finally got her locked down?”

“Something like that.” 

Marly punches him lightly in the arm. “Good for you, man. Look at us, a couple of grown ups in grown up relationships! I gotta meet her sometime, when will she be in Boston next?”

Ilya hesitates. “We’ll see. Our time together is… limited so…”

Marly grins. “I get it, you want to keep her all to yourself. Ok buddy. I’m just happy for you, man. Being in love is like–it’s fucking awesome, isn’t it?”

Ilya smiles at his dumb teammate and nods. “It is.” 

July 2018

The moment that Ilya’s plan to move to Ottawa is announced, the group chat lights up. 

He supposes he could have given his teammates some warning but it had seemed like bad luck to mention it before it was official. He didn’t want to jinx the most important decision he had ever made. And honestly, he was mostly hoping it wouldn't be a big deal. Players get traded. They don't necessarily go from a team who annually makes the playoffs to one that is hanging by a thread but maybe people would think he wanted to build something again. Maybe they would think he wanted to leave some kind of hockey legacy behind whenever he retired. 

Marlow calls him directly. Ilya considers ignoring the call but Cliff is his closest friend on the Raiders and has been since he was drafted. Sure, Cliff doesn’t know Ilya as well as he thinks he does, but that’s on Ilya, not Cliff. Anyway, since Cliff and Aimee had gotten more serious, the bar and club hopping that had mostly defined their friendship had fallen off. A couple of times, Marlow asked him again when he could meet “Montreal girl–I mean, woman” and Ilya had brushed him off. He felt kind of bad about that now. Maybe one day…

“Marly,” he answers.

“What the fuck, Roz!”

Ilya sighs and waits while Marlow rants about the trade. “Ottawa, Roz! What the fuck is in Ottawa!”

When he’s done ranting, Ilya decides to take another small risk. “Only two hours from Montreal, Marly.” He waits while Cliff digests that information. “You will miss me, huh?”

“Fuck off,” Marlow answers lightly. “Of course I will, I’ve gotten used to your ugly mug being around all the time. But I get it, moving to be closer to your super secret girlfriend. Aimee and I are in the same city and we don’t get to see each other as much as we want. You’ll come back for the wedding though, right? It’s September. Bring your girl?”

Ilya hesitates. “Of course you’ll see me there.”

Now it was Marlow’s turn to hesitate. “You know, Aimee said something the other day… It was kind of nuts but she’s smarter than me so–is there a reason you don’t want me to meet this girl?” Ilya paused, wondering how to answer. Cliff continued, “It’s just… Aimee thought maybe you had a good reason. Like, maybe you’ve been so secretive all this time because… it’s not an easy thing to explain.” Shit, Aimee was way smarter than her fiance. Ilya cleared his throat but couldn’t think of what to say. “I just… Listen, man, I know you’re leaving, and I’m happy for you if that’s what you want, but I also want you to know, I can keep a secret. Not from Aimee, obviously, we’re getting married, but whatever is going on, I can handle it.”

Ilya sighed. “Can you?”

Marlow’s tone becomes suddenly more serious. “Yes, Roz. Anything. We’re friends, man. You’re my best friend here.”

Ilya’s eyes felt prickly. He took a deep breath. “The thing is… She is not… She’s a man, Marly.”

Nothing from Cliff’s end for a second and then a huff of laughter. “For real?”

Ilya rolled his eyes. “Yes, for real. That’s why it’s been a secret.” That and also he’s my hockey rival and we’ve been hooking up for years without anyone knowing and it’s actually starting to wear on me a little.

Cliff breathed in sharply and Ilya prepared himself for the worst. Instead, Cliff surprised him. “Ok, man. He must be pretty fucking amazing if you’re moving to bumfuck Ottawa.”

Ilya laughed suddenly. “That’s it?” he asked, shocked. “You aren’t going to freak out?”

 

“Freak out about what? I don’t give a shit who you sleep with. I should have figured you hooked up with every available woman in Boston and had to move on to men.”

Ilya rolled his eyes again but smiled. Cliff does not need a lesson about the queer alphabet and bisexual identity right this second. “Okay. Thank you.”

“Of course, man, I’m not that much of an asshole. I do want to meet him though. Invite him to the wedding!”

“Ah, that’s… he is not out yet. We are not out together. It’s complicated.”

“Sure, okay, I get it. But when you’re ready… And maybe before you leave we can hang? Grab a beer and say goodbye properly.”

Ilya nodded, forgetting for a minute Cliff couldn’t see him. “Yes,” he answered. “Yes, sounds good.”

They hung up a few minutes later, having exhausted the subject of Ottawa and how brilliant Aimee is. Ilya is relieved. He decides not to tell Shane about the conversation just yet. He’ll move to the new house, get settled, and then they can talk. It just felt good to get a little weight off his chest.

December 2020

Marlow texts Ilya to wish him a Merry Christmas, which is nice, even though he doesn’t really care about Christmas. He hadn’t seen Marlow much since moving to Ottawa and had expected them to fall out of touch but Cliff keeps texting and checking in. He asks about the hockey camps and the foundation, about Ilya’s “secret boyfriend,” about the team. They meet up when the Centaurs play Boston. If Cliff is suspicious about why Ilya’s boyfriend remains a secret, he mostly keeps it to himself. Sometimes Aimee joins them but mostly it’s just the two of them, like the old days. Except they don’t pick up any women and they go to bed early. 

It's nice, when he’s visiting, to have someone to see. He's heart-stoppingly lonely a lot of the time. He has Yuna and David, of course, and his new teammates, whom he loves. But he and Shane don’t get to spend all that much time together during the regular season. It is painful, to have such separate lives still. Being with Cliff in Boston feels normal, even if their nights out are a lot different than they had been ten years ago. He thinks often about their All Star double date and wishes they could recreate it. But Shane won’t even go to a Centaurs party when he’s in town; he’s not about to agree to something more intimate. 

It’s not forever, Ilya reminds himself, for the hundredth time. They would figure it out. Maybe one day Cliff would be at Ilya’s and Shane’s wedding like Ilya had been at his. Cliff would be cool about this; that helped, to know Ilya had someone on his side.

January 2021

Marlow is thrilled to see Ilya at the All Star weekend. He had narrowly made the cut this time; it would probably be his last year doing this. He convinced Aimee to switch some shifts at the hospital and make the weekend into a little vacation. They run into Ilya at the hotel bar, staring at his phone, smiling. Marlow sneaks up behind him and shakes his shoulders aggressively. “Rozy!”

Ilya jumps, startled, and turns to see his goofy friend and beautiful girlfriend–no, wife now!-- standing behind him. He hugs them both. “Aimee, I can’t believe you let this man talk you into attending another All Star weekend. I hope he bought you something sparkly to convince you to spend your weekend with boring hockey players.”

Aimee laughs. She loves when someone else teases her husband. “It’s a hardship, being in California instead of at the hospital, but you know, what we do for love.”

Just then, Ilya looks over her shoulder and grins. “Hollander, you are always showing up when Marlow and Aimee are around, are you stalking them?”

Shane blushes, as Ilya hoped he would. “Hi,” he says to them. “Is he bothering you, should I get security?”

Hugs and handshakes are exchanged. Aimee smiles at him, telling him it’s nice to see him again. “We should have dinner again, like in Atlanta that time! That was so much fun.”

Shane glances at Ilya. “Oh, uh… yeah, I can’t believe you remember that.”

“It’s not every day I get to have dinner with two of the best hockey players in the sport,” she answers, winking. Cliff rolls his eyes at her and tightens his arm around her waist. “You believe this treatment? Married life is making her mean.” He’s grinning ear to ear. It’s still hard for Ilya to believe this dope was married. He wishes he could tell them that he and Shane were going to be married too. They could celebrate.

“Dinner sounds good,” Ilya says suddenly, causing Shane to stare at him. “Right, Hollander?” Shane nods, attempting a smile.

“Great, I’m going to change, I feel gross. Give me like, a half hour?” Cliff snorts and Aimee pushes him. “It’s not me that takes forever to get ready, babe.” They walked off, hand in hand. 

Shane turns to his boyfriend. “I thought we were skipping dinner and going straight to bed.”

Ilya raises his eyebrows. “You have to eat at some point, Hollander.” Shane rolled his eyes. “Anyway, it will be fun. They’re fun people. And I have been thinking… Marly has been a good friend to me.”

Shane nods but narrows his eyes. “Okay…”

“And he has been dying to meet my Montreal lover–”

“Gross, Ilya.”

Ilya grins. He still doesn’t totally understand Shane’s hatred of the word but he does like to employ it occasionally to see if it still works to annoy him. Annoying Shane is one of his favorite pastimes. “I’m just saying, maybe we could tell them.”

“Tell them what? That we’re together? Why…” Shane swallows and takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want to fight about this. They're engaged, they're happy, they have a whole announcement planned for this summer. He tries to put that aside for a minute, to figure out why Ilya seems to suddenly want this. “Is it important to you? To tell him now?”

Ilya pauses, searching Shane’s eyes. “Yes,” he says softly. “Hayden knows. Why can’t Cliff?”

Shane nods, slowly, still taking deep breaths to try to relax. Ilya waits. “Okay,” Shane exhales. 

“Okay?” Shane nods again and tries to smile. “It’ll be fine, moy’ lyubov. It’s just Marlow. He won’t be weird.”

True to his friend’s word, Marlow is not weird when Ilya admits that Mr. Montreal (Cliff’s most recent nickname for the mystery boyfriend) is actually Shane Hollander, hockey star. Both Ilya and Shane hold their breath, wondering if Marly will freak out and demand to know if this is some kind of dumb joke. He is, instead, thrilled. He laughs out loud and nearly knocks over his chair to crush Shane in a hug, which is wholly unexpected and possibly a little weird. “This is fucking amazing,” he crows. Shane blushes harder than Ilya has ever seen. Aimee pulls her husband’s arm to force him back in his chair, noting Shane’s anxious expression (and Ilya’s delighted one).

“Chill out, babe,” she says, smiling at him. “I thought there was a thing with you two,” she continues, looking back at the couple. “When we were in Atlanta that time. The way you looked at each other, it was… Then Cliff told me you were seeing someone, Ilya, that it was a man, and I kind of thought–or I wondered, anyway.”

Shane and Ilya stare at her, Shane slack-jawed and Ilya still grinning. Ilya places his hand gently on Shane’s leg under the table. “We thought we were very good at hiding it.”

“You are! I didn’t know for sure, it was just like, a vibe.” She shrugs. “Nurses are observant.”

“It's still a secret,” Shane says suddenly. 

Cliff and Aimee both nod. “You're good, man,” Cliff promises. 

“I'm barely a hockey fan,” Aimee adds. All three men pretend to be wounded and she laughs. “I mean I'm not out here like, gossiping about the MLH. Don't worry.” 

Shane clears his throat. “We’re actually going to announce it this summer. We’re uh… we’re getting married.”

Aimee restrains Cliff from jumping out of his chair again. “Hockey fucking royalty!” he shouts. The other three shush him; it’s his turn to blush. Lower, he says, “This is amazing. Congatu-fucking-lations. First husbands of hockey, I can’t fucking believe it.”

Ilya takes a chance and reaches for Shane’s hand under the table. Shane smiles at him, his real smile, and Ilya is relieved. Aimee starts asking questions about who proposed and how and the wedding plans. Ilya feels a relief he hasn’t felt in months, maybe years. Maybe this is how it will be, he thinks: people will be happy for them. Not everyone, obviously, but the people who matter. He looks at goofy Cliff and his beautiful wife and his perfect almost-husband and feels, for the first time in a very long time, weightless.

July 2021

It was supposed to be a small wedding but by the time it was all said and done, the backyard was full. There isn’t a wedding party and there won’t be speeches but Cliff wanted to say something to Ilya; this is a big fucking deal after all. Aimee encouraged him to write it down in a wedding card, like a normal person, and he was once again reminded why he married the smartest woman he had ever met. He writes it out on his phone first, has Aimee check it to make sure it makes sense and conveys what he means it to. Then he scribbles it down in the $8 fancy card he bought at the stationary store in Boston. He laments that his handwriting is shit but ultimately decides it’s the words that count, not how they look.

Roz–First of all, congratulations! Being married is awesome. Welcome to the best club. Second, I want to tell you that I’m really fucking proud of you. I guess part of me thought we would always be running around together, having wild nights that we didn’t quite remember. We had a lot of fun. But I think I could also tell that something was missing for you. I see now what it was. Hollander, you’ve made my best friend happier than I thought was possible. I know you guys are gonna take some shit but I want you to know that Aimee and I are always on your side. You deserve this happiness. Thank you for letting us be a part of it. We love you.

He slips the card under the coffee maker in the kitchen, where he’s sure it’ll be found the next day. He watches Ilya Rozanov, 2009 number one overall draft pick, say “I do” to Shane Hollander, hockey phenom (Ilya would want Cliff to note, the second pick that same year) with tears in his eyes. Cliff finds himself getting a little weepy too; marriage has softened him more than he expected. He tightens an arm around Aimee, who looks up at him and smiles. Of course she knew Ilya was keeping a giant secret, and that there was something between Shane and Ilya before he did. He’s pretty sure Aimee knows everything. He’s unbelievably lucky.

The couple kisses and everyone claps and whistles, Cliff loudest of all. He pulls a flask out of his jacket pocket and makes his way to Ilya. It’s the good shit, the vodka Ilya turned him on to when they were kids. They have to take a shot together, for old time’s sake. And, Cliff thinks, grinning, maybe a second one to celebrate the future. It’s looking bright for both of them.