Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Heated Rivalry (TV)

Relationship:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander, Cliff Marlow | Cliff Marleau

Additional Tags:

Original Character(s), Coming Out, (kind of), Cliff Marlow | Cliff Marleau Finds Out About Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, screaming at how that's a tag on here

Language:

English

Series:

Part 4 of "second chances" universe

Stats:

Published: 2026-03-08 Words: 1,943 Chapters: 1/1

the boys are back

Summary

Ilya meets with some teammates to catch up.

 

If you haven’t read the series, basically Shane got hurt, became an assistant coach of the bruins, and he and Ilya still fell in love. In public, they are best buddies.

The Bruins were back in town for the season. Ilya rode the T downtown, waving and giving an exaggerated wink to a little girl wearing his jersey across the seat from him. He appreciated that while Boston’s culture wasn’t quite the mirror image of Russian stoicism, very few people bothered him while he was going about his business on the street. 

Maybe it was because he’d spent so much time chatting with fans in the Dunkin next to Shane- they all had plenty of regular access. 

Or maybe people were just being nice. 

Marlow and Wheeler had wanted to catch up over a beer before the season fully kicked off, now that they had returned from their summer travels. Part of Ilya had wanted to say no, so he could enjoy one of his last days of summer freedom with Shane. But Shane had insisted he go. 

“I know we’re kind of playing up the friendship thing for, you know,” Shane had stroked Ilya’s lower back, hand dipping just beneath the waistband of Ilya’s pants. “But you should actually spend some time with friends.” 

Ilya had stolen a kiss then, wishing there was time to take Shane back to bed before he had to hit the gym. “What about you? Where are your friends?” 

Shane kept his hands on Ilya’s shoulders, as if he knew he was supposed to push Ilya away but couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. “I can hang out with Svetlana.” 

Ilya snorted with laughter. 

“I’m serious! I like her a lot.” 

“Only because she lets you watch game film while you are eating.” Ilya shook his head in mock disappointment. “Such bad habits, Hollander.” 

“Fuck you.” 

Ilya winked while Shane rolled his eyes. 

 

Shane probably was actually watching game film with Svetlana right now. She loved getting insider information from Shane, and considered him a far superior source of what she called “hockey gossip” to Ilya. Ilya hoped they’d at least figure out a way for him to set another goal-scoring record in the meantime. 

The bar Marlow had found was half outside, surrounded by an iron fence and giant leaves that got in the way of people-watching from either direction. Ilya walked past it three times before he found the door, wondering why the fuck they had to be trying a new bar when there were plenty around the city he already knew how to find. 

Marlow and Wheeler had already found a table, though they hadn’t chosen to sit outside despite the beautiful weather. Ilya figured they’d been enjoying the outdoors enough in whatever vacation spots they’d been in over the summer break. They waved him over with the relaxed grins of players who hadn’t had their first practice yet. 

“Boys,” Ilya greeted, sliding his chair out and sitting down. 

“Roz, what’s up, man?” Marlow waved at the bartender, pointing at Ilya. There weren’t many people in the bar, so the bartender gave a thumbs up back before turning to get Ilya’s beer. Or maybe he was just a Bruins fan. 

Ilya shrugged. “Normal, boring summer. Was in Russia for a week or so, but-” 

“Only a week?” Wheeler was tearing off corner of the menu while he talked. “Don’t you go back for longer than that?” 

“Sometimes. If I need to. Was nice to be around here. How was the surgery?” 

Wheeler grimaced as Marlow made a sympathetic noise next to him. “Long. Fine. Shitty. Better now.”

 “Better than missing a season,” said Marlow.

Wheeler gave a dry laugh. “Oh yea. But I think my mom was mad I had a knee brace for my brother’s wedding.” 

The bartender brought Ilya’s drink over, and Ilya made a mental note to give him a big tip later. “What, she missed your terrible dancing?” 

“Actually yea.” Wheeler took a sip of his beer. “I think she needed another person in her corner. Everyone at the wedding was dancing like fuckin Beyoncé.” 

Marlow scoffed. “I’ve never seen good dancing at a wedding. Your brother marry a Rockette or something?” 

Wheeler cleared his throat and shook his head. “Uh, no. Actually, um,” he glanced at Ilya. “He married a man. His husband. Pretty nice guy, actually.” There was silence at the table for a moment, but Wheeler kept going. “He’s not a professional dancer or anything. But he and all my brother’s friends were doing like,” he flailed his arms as if trying to do some type of popular choreography, “you know.” 

Ilya raised his eyes at Wheeler. “Never do those moves again. You will need another surgery.” 

“You know, it’s been boring without you, Rozanov,” Marlow laughed as he slapped Ilya’s back. 

Ilya turned back to Wheeler. “So your brother made you look stupid. You are better at hockey. Maybe only a little bit better if you still cannot shoot from your back foot, but better.”

Wheeler winced. “He actually used to play hockey too. We both played as kids, until he… quit.” 

Ilya’s pulse was starting to get louder in his ears as he tried to keep his face neutral. He thought about Shane as a kid, falling in love with a sport that would change his life. He thought about other kids, who might have also fallen in love with hockey before deciding it just wasn’t worth it. 

Marlow’s mouth flattened, clearly understanding without Wheeler needing to explain more. “Damn. That sucks.” 

He turned to Ilya, who was nodding in agreement. “So, Roz, what else did you-” 

“You know, Rozanov,” Wheeler interrupted. “I was worried you’d have shit to say about my brother, especially when I first met you.” 

Marlow scoffed before Ilya could find a response. “Because of the Russia thing? Come on, dude, you can’t just-” 

“I know that now, but my last team had some guys that were a little more, well,” 

“Scary?” Ilya stroked the side of his beer glass. “I am not scary enough?”

“Oh you’re plenty scary,” Wheeler answered, “but not like that.” 

“Have your friends had a lot of… problems? Before? With your brother?” 

Wheeler shook his head. “Not recently. He doesn’t really come up with most people. But-” he paused, searching Ilya’s face and then turning to Marlow. “I forgot to worry about it with you guys. I guess I knew you’d be cool.” 

Something warm twisted in Ilya’s chest. “That is why I am captain.” 

Marlow laughed. “I think a lot of guys are losing their C if that’s what makes a good captain.” 

Ilya frowned. It was hard to get a read on Marlow sometimes. He definitely wasn’t some kind of cartoonish bigot. But he wasn’t some kind of advocate either. What he was, however, was decently perceptive. When he’d stopped Ilya from running out of the party after Shane last season he’d known something was up, but had clearly decided not to confront Ilya about it. 

Wheeler slid back from the table, bumping past Marlow on his way. “Bathroom,” he said, pointing to the sign on the other end of the bar. “Be back in a second.” 

It was quiet at the table for a moment.

“You good, Roz?” Marlow leaned forward, finishing off his beer. “You seem kind of tense.” 

Ilya shrugged. “Just getting ready for the season.” 

Marlow gave a low whistle. “Geez. And I thought you’d be one of the few guys in the league who can relax about it.” 

“Not with Hollander emailing me every other day. New strategy, new power play, new face-off idea.” He smiled fondly, and then immediately wanted to slap himself. Why could he not help but bring up Shane? 

Marlow noticed. “Hollander’s intense. I’d be too, if I was him.” He paused, looking over at the bathroom entrance. “Hey, um, were you really okay with what Wheeler said? About his brother?” 

Ilya’s heart stuttered a bit as he kept his face composed. “Yes. I do not care.”

“Okay. Then there’s something I- don’t get mad.”

Ilya gave him a side-eyed look. “…What is it?” 

“I think Hollander might be, uh,” 

Ilya’s eyebrows shot up as Marlow raised his hands in innocence. 

“I don’t care! I wasn’t gonna say anything! But I thought you should know, because he seems kind of, well, into you?” 

Ilya let out a breath. Shane was going to lose his mind when he heard about this.

“Why do you think that?” 

Marlow gestured as if to say, the whole season, but Ilya kept looking at him, daring him to voice it. “He really concentrates on you, man. It’s like you’re his whole mission. And he just… I don’t know. Maybe I’m crazy. But just- I know you guys are friends. I don’t want you to-”

He doesn’t want me to commit a hate crime against Shane and go to prison. The thought that Marlow seemed to be awkwardly looking out for Shane was almost sweet. 

Marlow continued. “And if you’re still seeing that girl from last season, you don’t want her to-” 

“Girl from last season?” 

“Come on, I saw you texting her all the time. What was her name again?” He thought for a moment as Ilya gritted his teeth. “Jane, right?” 

The bartender brought over a new beer, and Marlow thanked him before taking a sip. Ilya remained frozen beside him, hoping that he’d been wrong, and that Marlow was really stupid. 

“Hey, that’s funny, that rhymes with-” 

Dammit. 

Ilya felt the poker face he’d been keeping up slide off his face. Marlow’s jaw dropped. 

“Holy shit, dude. Tell me I’m crazy for thinking what I’m thinking right now.” 

Part of Ilya wanted to tell Marlow he really was imagining things. But another, louder part of him wondered whether it would be so bad if Marlow knew. 

Ilya just stared at Marlow, trying to read his face. 

Marlow’s eyes widened. “I wouldn’t say anything. If it is. I’m in your corner. Seriously. But holy shit.” 

“You cannot tell anyone,” Ilya hissed, eyes darting over to where Wheeler had come out of the bathroom and was now ordering at the bar. “If you want to keep what’s left of your teeth in your mouth-” 

“I won’t. I seriously won’t.” Ilya kept glaring at him. “So all those women before were-”

“I liked them too.” 

“Okay! Wow.” Marlow kept looking at Ilya as if he expected Ilya to get up and run away any second. “This is not where I thought this was gonna go.” He drew his eyebrows together. “So when did you-” 

“Before he got hurt, we-”

“What the fuck.” 

Ilya realized he’d answered Marlow’s question wrong. Well, it was too late now. 

“All this time?” 

Ilya shook his head. “No. We didn’t after… and when he came to Boston it was-” 

“That is wild.” 

Ilya looked Marlow in the eye. “There will be trouble if anyone finds out. Do you want another coaching scandal this season?” 

Marlow shook his head, clearly still shocked. “I promise, man. Do you want a fucking blood oath?” He laughed to himself. “He made you way better anyway. I’d be an idiot to mess that up. But wow.” 

Ilya wondered how on earth he was going to tell Shane about this without him freaking out. Maybe he could distract him immediately after with a blowjob. That usually worked. 

“So,” Marlow leaned back in his chair, “you’ve been watching a lot of game film with Hollander this summer, then?” Ilya felt color rise in his cheeks as he glared at Marlow. 

Wheeler made his way back to the table, balancing more beer and a basket of fries. “I’m back,” he said, sliding the fries to the middle of the table. “What did I miss?”