Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid

Relationships:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Scott Hunter & Ilya Rozanov, Kip Grady/Scott Hunter, Ryan Price/Fabian Salah

Characters:

Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander, Kip Grady, Fabian Salah, Ryan Price (Game Changers), Carter Vaughn, Eric Bennett, Miles (Game Changers)

Additional Tags:

Ilya and Scott's Bromance, Coming Out, Relationship Reveal, The Kingfisher (Game Changers), Book 4: Common Goal (Game Changers)

Language:

English

Series:

Part 10 of Ilya's Big Gay Bromance

Stats:

Published: 2026-03-02 Completed: 2026-03-04 Words: 6,168 Chapters: 2/2

Kings of the Kingfisher

Summary

Scott and Kip's engagement party at the Kingfisher will be the gay hockey event of the century if Ilya has anything to do with it. Second only to his own coming out, of course. Which will be soon. Probably. Maybe.

Notes

This is the part where we start to really deviate from canon. Also where we meet Eric for the first time in this series. Eric deserves more fandom love. Even my boy Ryan gets more fic air time than him.
Also, yes, you're not going mad. This will have 2 chapters. Once I hit the 4k mark I decided to split it up, so enjoy part 1 of our time in the Kingfisher.
I know AO3 downtime sucks, but consider that I slept 12 hours then wrote 2000 words.
Un beta'd, and lets pretend I didn't edit out typos like 6 times in the 5hrs after posting.

Chapter 1

The party was in full swing by the time Ilya rolled up. He and Shane had thought about arriving together, but then that would probably have alerted at least half the people there as well as anyone within five miles with a phone camera that they were arriving together and this really wasn’t the time for that.

Ilya checked his phone again for Ryan and Fabian’s ETA. The two of them had driven down from Toronto the previous day, making a road-trip out of it and spending some good, quality time together. Scott had done his best to pick a day for the event when they could all come, but of the many reasons Ilya was glad that Ryan wasn’t with the Guardians any more, their game in Tampa this afternoon would have added yet another layer of complexity.

As it was, the Admirals were at home tomorrow, Ottawa was playing New Jersey (so Ilya was going to drive over at lunchtime), and Shane (unfortunately) was going to be flying first thing in the morning for an away game against Detroit. Not the worst it could have been, but Ilya knew that he was going to struggle to get Shane to let loose at all.

It didn’t help that as far as he could tell, the pre-season with Montreal had gone no better than the end of last season. Shane was wound as tight as it was possible to be without snapping, and even then Ilya wasn’t sure.

His determination to move Shane — whether to the Centaurs with him or to literally anywhere else — was only growing. But Shane was loyal to a fault, and the discussion felt sometimes like pulling teeth.

At least now he had some people to talk to. Kip and Fabian had been good for him. Just like he was sure being friends with Ryan and Scott had been good for Ilya. Not that he’d admit that under pain of death.

Ilya had never seen the Kingfisher this busy. A wall of sound hit him when he opened the door, and the somewhat cramped walkway between bar and seats was clearly not designed for the frames of the dozen-or-more professional hockey players that filled it. He hadn’t walked far into the room when he was recognised.

“Rozanov? Hey guys look! Fucking Rozanov is here!” He wasn’t sure of the name of the guy that was shouting, but his voice carried well enough that most of the heads in the room turned, and a somewhat drunken collection of noises went up - cheers and boos alike. He was pretty sure he’d never been greeted like this outside his own team, but he let himself be pulled in by their effusive (and drunken) enjoyment. By the time he reached where Scott was holding court at a booth, he had a beer in his hand that he absolutely had not ordered, and had managed to greet or insult every member of the Admirals bar two at least once.

“Ilyaaaaaaaa,” Kip yelled and flung himself out of his seat and Ilya only just caught him without spilling his drink. Someone rescued it from him so that he could focus on the fact that Kip — well into drunk — had gone entirely boneless against him. Ilya hauled Kip back onto his seat next to Scott and plopped down next to them both. His drink was returned — fuck, he had been hoping that it disappeared and he didn’t have to obviously turn away the weak American beer that was probably all they offered — and he ignored it in favour of greeting Scott properly.

“Scott Hunter! At last you claim your child bride.” Scott laughed and grabbed Ilya’s hand in a handshake that he pulled into a half-hug, Kip squashed between them. When they separated Kip looked like he was going to vibrate out of his skin.

“So Rozanov, is Jaaaaane coming tonight?” Kip leered, though he cracked into a giggle fairly quickly.

Scott’s eyebrows raised up high and he stared at Ilya. “Yes, Rozanov — I hear your Jane is gracing us with their presence tonight.”

“It is last chance I have to make Kip so jealous that he decides to marry more attractive and athletic hockey player instead.”

“Noooooooo, I don’t want Jane, I want Scott. Jane wouldn’t appreciate my cooking as much he’s weird.”

Ilya couldn’t help but laugh. He saw Scott pass Kip a large glass of what he hoped was straight lemonade. It was much to early in the evening for Kip to be this drunk, but Ilya supposed that if it was his engagement party (oh god, that was a thought that made him both insane and terrified, best not dwelt on) he would not be making the best choices. Although he was fairly sure he was better at holding his alcohol than Kip.

“Don’t worry, Kip. I think if you stole my Jane I would have to murder you, and then Scott would have to murder me, and then Jane would have to avenge me and it would be very messy.” Ilya grinned. “And yes, he is going to be here tonight. He is very pleased to be invited.”

“Yayyy!” Kip smiled and leaned back against Scott to give him a kiss. It almost reminded Ilya of how Shane had behaved after his concussion.

Ilya checked his phone again.

Jane: Just getting on the metro. Should be about 20 mins?

That had been fifteen minutes ago.

Ilya saw the door open and he couldn’t help but crane his neck to see who it was. He was a little disappointed to see that it wasn’t Shane, but it was the other hockey player that he’d been looking forward to seeing.

“Ryan!”

Ilya waved at the ex-defenceman, his height still towering even in a room that was all bulky athletes. Ryan smiled at the familiar face and pushed — somehow apologetically — through the crowd, and as he approached Ilya grinned at the sight of Fabian encircled protectively by Ryan's arms. He understood the urge, though he was sure Shane would be mad if he tried, as the rowdiness was only increasing.

“Ilya! Scott! Congratulations man… I mean, congrats to Scott. Not Ilya. You're not marrying Ilya, heh,” Ryan blushed through his words, and Fabian pressed a gentle kiss against Ryan's chin.

“They know babe, it's alright. Kip, Scott — we're so happy for you. Congratulations!” Fabian said.

“Awwww Fabian. Ryan. Thank you!” Kip stood and climbed over Ilya, wrapping Fabian up in an enthusiastic hug, and then offering the same to Ryan who reciprocated with slightly less vigour. They reshuffled around the table a bit and somehow managed to sit all six of them — Vaughan included — in the definitely four-seater booth.

As Fabian and Kip started up a conversation, Ilya felt his phone vibrate.

Jane: Found a friend on the platform so he’s coming along.

Ilya frowned.

Ilya: You have NY friends?

Jane: You’ll find out in 2 minutes be patient

Ilya pouted at his phone, and looked up to rejoin the conversation.

“Yeah he’s doing alright I think. They’ve been so separate for so long that I don’t think much changed, really. I’m glad he came, but I do worry that throwing my relationship in his face is a bit mean.” Scott said.

“Who is this?” Ilya asked.

“Benny.” Vaughan said. Ah, yes. Their goalie. For all Ilya liked to chirp about Scott’s age, Eric was actually one of the oldest players in the MLH. And apparently was having… wife troubles?

“Ah. Well, you have come to many team parties being single and sad. I’ve done the same. Marlow wants us all to meet his latest girl and I have to listen to every one of them tell me all about all of the people they are fucking and how wonderful their wives and children are and I am thinking about—” Ilya side-eyes Vaughan, the only guy at the table who he hasn’t come out to, and figures that it’s all about to come out anyway and carries on “—my beautiful man and his freckles and his cock and—”

“OH MY GOD Ilya!” Fabian put his hands over his ears and closed his eyes. “He might actually kill you if he finds out you just said that.”

Kip laughed and then had to put his hand over his mouth with wide eyes. After a moment of laughter, Kip instead cups his hands around his mouth and starts to whisper-shout to Ilya.

“I didn’t tell Scott so he still doesn’t know who Jane is. He’s going to be so mad that I didn’t tell him but shhhhh, he doesn’t know I know.”

Ilya started to cackle at Ryan, Fabian and Vaughan put their hands over their faces in despair while Scott frowned at Kip.

“Wait, but you invited him? How did you add him to the guest list without me seeing?” Scott asked.

“Scott I literally have a job here. Kyle is one of my best friends. I could do pretty much anything here without your input.” Kip said, sticking his tongue out.

“Hey, Ilya. Cool. I mean. Yeah. That you’re uh. You know.” Vaughan looked like he was sucking on a lemon.

“I hope you were better when it was Scott that came out, this is not very Ally behaviour.” Ilya said.

“Fuck you Rozanov, I’m great. We even went to the figure skating at the Olympics. And oh my god I straight-’splained to Hunter and Hollander about being gay in Russia. Fuck.”

“Is ok. I think Hollander lives in a hockey hole that means he knows nothing about anything that isn’t written on a hockey stick.” He heard Fabian snicker but decided to ignore it. “And yes, very good. You saw Sport at the Sport Event in Russia, you are so brave.”

“Fuck you. Hollander said he had a buddy that was gay and performing,” Vaughan said, pointing accusingly at Ilya.

“No, you assumed he was gay and Hollander said nothing,” Scott said.

“You do know that straight people can also ice skate, right? Although, based on this table, you might be the minority here.”

“Okay Rozanov, you can stop chirping now.” Scott swatted at him and Ilya just grinned. “You don’t even have a drink what the fuck happened to you?” Kip had, in fact, stolen Ilya's drink and was drinking it delightedly.

“Ah, I am settled down man now. Also I must have clear head to make sure my man is well fucked. We don’t usually see each other in the season like this — we have nearly six weeks until we meet next so there is much to do. Many athletic positions to try when we are a whole day removed from hockey games.”

“Aaaaand thanks Roz, remind me never to ask you a question again,” said Scott, and the rest of the table laughed. Ilya smiled — he had meant to get a drink, really, but now that he’d thought of it, maybe Shane would be more likely to relax if he knew that Ilya had all his wits about him. It was a good plan.

The door opened again, and Ilya turned to see who it was.

Shane!

And… A guy?

“Oh good! Hollander made it! And… wait did he bring a boyfriend?” Scott stood to see better, and Ilya did the same. He didn’t recognise the man next to Shane, but they were standing close. When Shane said that he’d met a friend on the metro, he didn’t think that he meant a nice looking boy who was clearly checking out every available ass in the room, including Shane’s.

“Woah Roz, you look like you’re gonna start a fight. Can’t you leave it on the ice for one night?” Vaughan laughed, but there was an edge to his voice that said he was totally serious.

“I do not like Hollander bringing strange man to Scott’s party.” Ilya said, simply. He turned around to the rest of the table, trying hard not to obviously pout.

Kip and Fabian shared a wide-eyed glance.

“I’ll be right back, Scott,” Kip said, and he only wobbled slightly when he stood.

“Me too. I’ll bring back drinks, yeah? Ryan text me everyone’s orders.” Fabian also stood and started to climb over Ryan and then Ilya’s knees.

“Uh, yeah okay. Take my card.” Fabian plucked the card neatly out of Ryan’s hands, and he and Kip linked elbows and walked away from the table.

All four hockey players exhaled at the extra space opened up.

“So, uh… You alright Roz?” Ryan asked.

“I am fine.”

“Mhm,” Vaughan raised his eyebrows at Ilya, “because that’s the face of a man who is just fine. Are you seriously gonna be mad that Hollander brought a boyfriend to what is essentially gay hockey cotillion?”

“Oh shush, they’re friends now, Vaughan. Just because you weren’t invited to the camp.”

“I’m just saying, I think you needed more than Voyageurs as your token straight people.” Vaughan’s eyes were still tracking Shane and his friend over Ilya’s shoulder, which was the only waning he had when Shane finally approached.

“Hollander! Glad you could make it. And… Who’s this?” Scott said, his eyebrows doing something that might, in his head, have been suggestive but actually made him look a little bit insane.

“Scott, Carter, Ryan, Ilya — This is Miles. He’s a friend of Rose, and we just met on the metro. Total coincidence.”

“Oh my god, guys. When Shane said that he was coming to the Gay Hockey event of the season I knew I had to come along. Rose was always very complimentary about the eye candy available when she went out with Shane’s team, and she was absolutely correct.”

Shane laughed at him, and Ilya felt a subtle seething jealousy start to bubble. He’d had plans to help Shane relax, and here this friend of Rose Landry was, making him laugh like that.

“Well, great to meet you Miles. Though we’d half thought that you’d come as Hollander’s plus-one.” Scott said.

“Ah, well, he is tragically taken.” Miles put a hand on Shane’s shoulder, and Ilya was relieved to see Shane shrug it off, his smile turning nervous again.

Wait, no. He didn’t want Shane to be nervous. He wanted Shane to be happy.

Ilya stood, crowding subtly into Shane’s space, and Shane’s whole body turned straight in to him, everything about him suddenly focused.

“Rozanov,” Shane said, the nervousness obvious in his face.

“Hollander,” Ilya said in return, but he wasn’t able to stay serious for long. His face softened into a smile. “Shane.” Ilya raised his eyebrows, checking in that they were still on with their plan, and Shane nodded subtly. Ilya leaned forward and captured Shane’s lips in a kiss.

A kiss that very rapidly went from simple to filthy as both of them realised how long it had been. Summers spent together — first at the cottage, then at the camps — were spoiling both of them for each other’s time, and the breaks between being able to see each other — even with Ilya being in Ottawa — felt longer and longer every time.

“Uh… holy shit. What the actual fuck.” Ilya was vaguely aware of someone talking, but in that moment he couldn’t help but wrap his hands around Shane’s hips, pulling him millimetres closer as though they could somehow inhabit the same space.

“Yeah, that’s hot. Really hot. Christ that should be illegal.”

“I think it is illegal. They’re rivals!”

“They’re clearly not rivals, Vaughany. Unless this is also a competition of some kind.”

“No they’re just like this. All the time.”

“How the fuck do you know Price?”

“They are not good at locking doors.”

Ilya was desperately trying to pretend the rest of the room wasn’t happening, but clearly Shane wasn’t as committed as he was, and he broke the kiss. At least he checked his hip more firmly into Ilya’s side, wrapping an almost possessive hand around Ilya’s waist as his own hand did the same. Here they were, in front of the whole Admirals team (fuck, fuck, was the whole bar watching? Ilya didn’t want to check) and after a moment where they looked each other in the eye, they turned to the table.

“Hi all. I’m Jane,” Shane grinned at his own prank, and Ilya couldn’t help but mirror it as they stared at Scott’s still gobsmacked face.

“THE FUCK ROZANOV?!” he eventually yelled. He stood up and lunged over Vaughan to get out of the booth, and flung his arms around them both, gripping them in a tight hug. “Shit, it’s been Hollander the whole time?” Scott asked, and Ilya nodded. Scott simply gaped for a long moment, his brain clearly doing something complicated, and Ilya let out a nervous laugh, pressing a kiss to Shane’s cheek to let himself hide his face.

“Shit. You said this has been a thing since you first came from Russia. Were you… really?! All that time?!”

“Hah, yeah. We, uh. We met at the World Juniors. Remember? Oh-eight and oh-nine Canada and Russia traded the gold and silver.” Shane explained, his hand reaching up to Ilya’s hair. Ilya really hadn’t expected him, of the two of them, to be the one that needed comfort, but the reality of his… fuck his friends really seeing him for the first time was overwhelming.

“Yeah and you fuckers got drafted in the middle and that was what started the whole rivalry thing! But you were… what? Meeting up behind the bike sheds while your chaperones were busy?”

“No. We, uh. You remember that CCM ad? Just before we started our rookie season. The one where we stared at each other really intently. That was, uh, I guess when it started.” Ilya’s face against Shane’s cheek meant that he could feel how it heated up as he blushed, and he pulled himself away.

“I had to make sure I stake my claim quick, before he decides to fuck a hockey player that is worse than him. Would have ruined his game; it would not be nearly so fun to play against him if bad sex made him bad at hockey.”

“Christ Rozanov, seriously? What did he do to deserve you?” Scott grinned, but Ilya felt the way that Shane stiffened at the question.

“Shane Hollander is best hockey player and nicest guy in the whole league, the rest of you wish you were on his level.” Ilya stared Scott down, then did the same to Vaughan. Ryan was let off — he’d been cool about it after all.

“Oh man, sorry Roz. I guess this is… this is exactly why you’re kinda leery about this.” Scott’s eyes scanned the room behind them. “Come on — sit down. I’ll go grab some more chairs.”

Ilya and Shane took what had been Scott’s seat — Shane huddling into the corner with Ilya sitting between him and Vaughan. Miles was leaning on the table, engaging the lonely Admirals player in conversation that barely counted as not-flirting.

Ilya let himself burrow into Shane a little, reassuring himself that Shane was there.

“So Ryan, how are you doing?” Shane opened, and Ilya let the conversations happening either side of him wash over his consciousness. Now that everyone knew — well, everyone he gave a shit about knowing — he could relax.

His hand on Shane’s thigh was covered by Shane’s own, the slight chill of his fingertips from the short walk here slowly leeching out to leave only warmth between them.

Chapter 2

Chapter Notes

Thanks to Grace and Q for their invaluable help with this and also for giving me the SPAG that chapter 1 deserved.... I think I've got them all now, but feel free to point typos out if you see them (in any parts tbh)

When Scott came back he was dragging a pair of chairs behind him. Following behind was Kip and Fabian, each laden down with as many drinks as they could carry, and behind them was Eric Bennett. He looked a little uncertain at the invitation, but he too was carrying drinks, with the bartender — Kyle? Ilya thought he recognised him — dragging another pair of chairs.

“If you manage to break a booth you either gotta pay for it, or you’ve gotta sign it. All of you.” Kyle helped Scott arrange the chairs to get everyone as close as possible, and then saluted. “Also don’t let Kip pick up the drinks, he keeps forgetting that he shouldn’t be behind the bar. And he’s crap at drawing pints when he’s drunk.”

“Thanks Kyle. We’ll do our best.”

With a nod, Kyle turned around back to the bar. Eric put the drink he was holding in front of Ilya, who’s eyebrows rode up in surprise.

“Kip said you weren’t drinking. Kyle made me a mocktail - thought you might want one too.”

Ilya was touched by the thought, and nodded his thanks.

When everyone was eventually sitting down, Ilya pushed his straw up and down in what he was pretty sure was a mojito. Sorry - a virgin mojito. That Eric Bennet had brought for him. Eric’s eyes now were trained back at the bar, where Kyle was gesticulating wildly while also pulling bottles out for various other Admirals. It was fairly impressive.

“So, uh, I’m guessing this was a surprise to everyone?” Vaughan said, gesturing between Ilya and Shane. Whatever bravado had powered Shane through his introduction had disappeared and Ilya got to watch his blush light up his face like a christmas tree.

“I knewwwww” Kip said in a sing-song.

“Yeah, we also knew.” Ryan gestured between himself and Fabian.

“I did not know. Well, I knew that Ilya had a guy. And I knew that he knew Hollander was gay before me.” Scott blew out a breath, “but this is, uh. Wow.”

“Sorry, you knew Hollander was gay?” Bennet asked.

“Oh, yeah. You remember that, uh, statement I put out? About captains supporting their teams? That was for Shane’s benefit.” Scott explained.

“And then he nearly got cancelled for being homophobic because the Voyageurs weren’t on your ‘Hunter Shortlist’.” Vaughan laughed.

“Shane, I am so sorry for that. Truly.” Scott reached across the table to try and put a Hand on Shane, but he was too far away and Shane had to reach out and shake his hand.

“Ha, uh. Yeah. Not gonna lie, made a very weird time a lot weirder. I couldn’t figure out if the coaching staff was more mad at me for not putting the team on the list or for making them feel bad about not being on the list. My mom thinks they were more mad about not being on the list because they don’t have a conscience, but she’s… really soured on the team recently.”

“Oh, strange. I wonder why that could be,” Ilya said, dripping with sarcasm.

“Yeah. Shane. That’s, uh. That’s really rough. Management are being weird?” Scott asked. “I mean… as much as I hate to say it, it being weird in the changing room is not totally unexpected. You’ll notice we’ve not got every Admiral here tonight, after all. Nothing as shitty as what’s going on in your room, don’t get me wrong, but there’s no rule that says we all have to be best friends. But like, the coaching staff and all that know that I could level a helluva lawsuit against them for open discrimination like that.”

“They know that I’d have to come out publicly to do that. And, well. I’m not ready. And they know that because I told them. I thought it would be fucking reassuring that I didn’t want to come out publicly. And I…” Ilya felt Shane’s hand tighten around his, and he increased the pressure of his own grip. He knew all this, they’d talked about all of this, but it still fucking killed him. “I’m still not ready. I want what I do on the ice to be about my hockey and not my… everything else. I get enough of the everything else following me out there already.”

“That’s fucking shit, man.” Said Vaughan after a beat of silence, and the rest of the table joined in, their collective words of disgust at the league and support of Shane washing over Ilya.

He could feel Shane starting to pull away, he looked at his face and saw how his eyes had started to glaze over in the way they did when he was starting to get overwhelmed by everything, and so he decided to pull the attention away from him.

“Okay, but did you see that guy on twitter who said he had a friend with a boyfriend on a professional team? If that is one of you guys I will be very disappointed because I am working very hard to have gayest team in league and I will not lose to fucking New York.”

“Fuck, imagine if all that shit about Crosby online was real. A fucking legend and he’s been fucking his teammate the whole time,” laughed Vaughan.

“I think if he was, he’d have way more awareness of the online nonsense. He thinks it’s like three rabid fans, not a whole community,” said Eric.

“Oh, you’ve asked him?”

“What happens at All-Stars, stays at All-Stars.”

Ilya let the rest of the table talk over each other. Kip and Fabian were both on their phones, rating players from other teams based on whether they gave off ‘vibes’, while Eric and Ryan critiqued their choices. Scott was describing the Game changer camp to Vaughan, who seemed to be actually serious about coming along to help out, and Miles was listening in as though he had any interest in the process.

Which left Ilya to take a moment with Shane.

“Shane, do you need to go or stay?” Shane nodded, and Ilya suppressed a groan. “That wasn’t a yes or no question, moi myatny listik.”

“…leaf?” Shane murmured.

“Mint leaf, yes. Like in my drink.” Ilya smiled. Making him think about Russian vocabulary was not a guaranteed way to snap him out of a spiral, but he couldn’t help but smile when Shane proves that his Russian was improving.

“I’m okay. Just need… quiet. I think.”

“We can find quieter spot? There are more people in here than space, it is very loud.” Ilya loved loud, loved feeling surrounded by people, but even he could admit that this room felt stuffy. And sometimes Shane needed to be told that he wasn’t being ‘overly’ sensitive, that he was feeling something that was happening to other people.

“No, this is fine. You make things quieter.”

“That is not what you usually say to me.”

“Oh shut up. You know what I mean.” Shane kissed Ilya gently on the cheek and Ilya leaned more heavily against him. Shane leaned in to the pressure, and Ilya left him to it, watching the rest of the table with interest.

After a while, Kyle came over and grabbed up their empties, and Scott offered to buy another round. Ilya tipped his now-empty drink toward Eric with a smile, and he ordered repeats for both of them. He watched the way Eric was staring at Kyle, how his eyes lingered on the bartender’s lips when he spoke, how he seemed to flinch from Kyle brushing against him gently as though he was hiding from something.

He also watched the way Vaughan was leaning very comfortably against Miles. He hadn’t even noticed, but the two of them had drifted together as though magnetic

Ilya got out his phone.

Ilya: I will put $500 that Eric Bennett and Carter Vaughan have boyfriends by the end of the season.

Ilya watched Scott and Ryan both pick up their phones. Ryan frowned, and Scott let out a squawk of laughter before slamming his phone down when Vaughan tried to read over his shoulder

Ryan showed Fabian who put a hand over his mouth, stared at the two men in question and then grinned.

Hockey Bear: Sucker bet. I’ll wager only one of them. Not sure which though.

Scott was trying to type while angling his phone away from Vaughan subtly, and it wasn’t working.

Old Man Scott: OH MY GOD Carter literally has a superstar girlfriend

Ilya: So did Shane.

“Ilya, you’re the worst.” Scott said aloud.

“You’re just mad that I’m so much more sexy and correct than you.” Ilya said in return.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Vaughan asked, and Scott groaned, putting a hand over his face.

“Sorry, big gay secrets. You cannot know until you are also a big gay.”

Ilya: Problem is if I am right then I will have to work hard at making Centaurs more gay.

Ilya: cannot do it with my personal charm as I am taken.

Ilya: I will tell scouts to pick only gay rookies next season

Ilya: Either we are amazing team and win cup, or we get good draft pick and can choose best baby gays for team. Win-Win.

Hockey Bear: If I thought you had any influence over the Ottawa development selection I’d be more worried.

Old Man Scott: Is this the gay agenda that people keep telling me that I’m promoting? because I want to formally lodge a complaint.

Ilya saw Fabian take Ryan’s phone and start typing.

Hockey Bear: Ok but on a more serious note - you know there’s that LGBT hockey team in San Francisco, right? You guys should see if they want to do, I dunno, something.

Old Man Scott: What, like an LGBT Exhibition game?

Ilya: I think Max will want to join. Or be involved

Ilya scrolled his phone so that the messages about the bet weren’t visible and tilted his phone toward Shane. He read them in silence, and then murmured. “Well, might as well add me to the chat now,” which Ilya did.

[Canada is most gay]

Jane was added to the chat.

Jane: I don’t know that Max would want to join us specifically as he’s still pretty mad about not being allowed to join a pro league.

Ilya: We can ask.

Jane: And you’re forgetting something important

Jane: In order to make up a professional gay exhibition team you’d need at least five OUT gay people.

Jane: We have one.

Old Man Scott: You’re right he is a smart one

Ilya: I am always right.

Ilya could see Shane’s smile out of the corner of his eye and was pleased that he was clearly feeling better. He liked when Shane showed off, but usually he had to play up being annoyed by it around the rest of the hockey world. That had started to change over the last year since the foundation, but it was nice to just let Shane be himself, and bask in it.

His phone buzzed again in his hand.

Jane: Also nobody take Ilya’s bets on these things he’s like a bloodhound

Old Man Scott: A gay bloodhound?

Ilya: Is true I can smell gay people. Unfortunately hockey players smell very strong.

Jane: Ilya stop being gross

Ilya: no 👅🍑

Old Man Scott: If you two use this group to flirt I’m kicking Ilya out

Ilya made an exaggerated outraged face at Scott who just shrugged, then reached over to Shane again to get a high-five.

“Traitor,” Ilya muttered.

“Okay guys, you gotta stop texting when you’re right next to each other. Or at least tell us what you’re texting about.” Vaughan said, and went to grab Scott’s phone.

“It’s okay, Vaughan. You will know one day. For now you must wait in suspense.” Ilya smiled. “Maybe I will tell you during game and it will put you off .”

“Is it a hate crime if it’s gay-on-straight violence?”

“No, unfortunately. If anyone had the power to make Roz less….” Scott waved his hands vaguely toward him, “Roz, they would have by now.”

They were interrupted from anything further by the arrival of Kyle and a large collection of drinks, and then they were all distracted by the fact that Eric and Kyle were having the most awkward conversation that Ilya had ever seen, and he wasn’t entirely sure if Kip was helping or hindering by interjecting about Kyle’s interest in some very specific art that meant nothing to Ilya.

What was a doric?

While the table reshuffled to make space for Kyle to hang out with them, Shane started to shuffle his way out.

“Just need the bathroom. I’m fine,” was his response to Ilya’s worrying, and so he let Shane disappear around the corner to where the bathrooms were.

“Hey so, Roz.” Ilya turned back to the table and met Ryan’s eyes, which were unusually serious. His hands were fluttering nervously on the table, running up and down the condensation on his glass, but his face reminded Ilya of facing against him on the ice.

“Price,” Ilya said in response, his body tense.

“Look, I know we’re friends. And I know Hollander — he probably wouldn’t put up with your shit if he couldn’t give at least a bit of it back. But he’s scared. More scared than I was about hockey. More scared than I think anyone has been about coming out since it lost the death penalty. Fuck, I think if he lost hockey he’d feel like it was the death penalty.”

“You are not wrong. Every plan I make, everything I say… hockey is the one thing where he will never compromise. He hears words like Legend and Dynasty and they are not words that make him proud, they make him heavy. The Voyageurs do not love him as he loves them. But I think maybe they both love an idea, not a reality.”

“Yeah, you get it. And you also get that this means you have… you have all the power here, dude. You’re like most of the way to Canadian residency. I know that the decision to leave Russia was hard and, like, I see it now. What you gave up for him. But he’s not… don’t take it out on him, yeah?”

“I don’t know what you are trying to say. Are you giving me warning? You think Hollander needs protecting?”

“I dunno man. I think you both need protecting. I know you talk a big game about being at the Centaurs, but you’re a star player, man. You and Hollander, both. You deserve to be on teams that get your blood pumping and playing opponents that match your skill. But you don’t get that in Ottawa, and Shane doesn’t get that when he’s being fucked up by Montreal. This feels like something waiting to explode. For both of you. But I feel like… you already lost everything to be where you are.”

“Not everything.” Ilya had to interrupt. “Not even… Yes, Russia. Yes, Boston. Yes, my cups and my team and all the things that Boston meant are things I lost because I move teams for us. But I had lost Russia even without Shane. If I was okay hiding forever, being always with women and never even thinking about men then… maybe. But I had already done things that could get me in trouble before I ever set foot on this continent. I was already thinking about the danger all the time. And the danger has changed — got much worse — since I have been playing hockey. It is not just my danger but also for my family. My niece. My friends who still stay at home. If I am here and I never go back — if I cut all contact — they are protected. Svetlana is crazy and says she doesn’t mind, but I worry about her too.”

“Shit Roz, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“I want you to worry about Shane. I worry about Shane. Sometimes I think Shane worries enough about Shane to change the whole MLH. I think he deserves good friends that think about him and keep him safe. I am very glad that he talks to Fabian and Kip about being gay. Being Russian in America means that I know many Russians that moved here for reasons not related to hockey. The Russian queer scene is more than you would think. So I have more… experience. Shane worries and it makes it hard for him to find experience — even experience that isn’t sleeping with other men. He is always thinking about optics and narrative and brand deals and being looked up to. These things are reasons why I love him, even when I hate that they make him feel even more heavy. He has a lot of heavy. So I try to be light.”

“Yeah man. That’s good. I’m glad. And, uh, I mostly promised Fabian I’d give you the shovel talk because he thinks Shane is funny and sweet and he only knows the version of you that gets interviewed after hockey games. I know you better, and I’m sorry I doubted you.”

“No. It’s good. I’m glad. You are good friend to both of us. It’s nice — I didn’t expect to have this. We have a plan that we wait until one or both of us retire. I had thought… I didn’t get to go out and hold his hand and kiss his cheek until then. So this is already much better than we imagined.”

Chapter End Notes

FOR MY NEXT TRICK - we're doing some more Eric and Kyle. The Gay 101 interlude is still to come (because Grace won't let me forget about it)
(also Ilya... babygirl... having friends was supposed to help you be less [gestures at all of him] like this, stop minimising your own issues for 5 mins please)