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, Kip Grady/Scott Hunter, Scott Hunter & Ilya Rozanov, Ryan Price & Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Ilya Rozanov, Scott Hunter (Game Changers), Ryan Price (Game Changers)

Additional Tags:

Ilya and Scott's Bromance, Book 3: Tough Guy (Game Changers), Coming Out, Scott and Ilya Roadtrip to Toronto, Toronto Raiders, Mental Health Issues, Players supporting Players

Language:

English

Series:

Part 5 of Ilya's Big Gay Bromance

Stats:

Published: 2026-01-29 Words: 3,130 Chapters: 1/1

Hockey Bear

Summary

Reaching out to Ryan was a good thing to do. He should have been there as his captain before, the least he can do is bring Scott as a backup captain now.

Notes

My draft notes simply said: ~ time for these mfers to earn their stripes as Fairy Gay Mothers ~
RYAN IS MY FAVOURITE BEAN HE MUST BE PROTECTED AT ALL COSTS

Many thanks to Atom47, mystycloud and writersstudy for the beta read and also helping me with Ryan.

Old Man Scott: You hear about Price?

Ilya: already he has shit year why must they punish him by sending him to Toronto

Old Man Scott: Ok you are alive, then answer my previous question WHAT THE FUCK? OTTAWA?

Ilya: No, we talk about Price now.

Old Man Scott: Nope, we’re talking about the fact that you willingly (??) left Boston where you were the CAPTAIN to play for the team that’s bottom of the conference

Ilya: Would you believe it’s because they give me lots of money?

Old Man Scott: Your salary was, famously, second only to Hollander in the whole MLH. Wait, did you do this just so that you were being paid more than him?

Ilya: Is nice side effect, yes

Old Man Scott: Jesus Christ Rozanov, trying to convince people that you’re not the literal worst is already an uphill battle.

Old Man Scott: What does Jane think?

Ilya: His parents are there, so now I spend my days off eating dad’s pasta

Old Man Scott: okay that’s kinda cute, Kip’s dad is the same in the off season he loves to feed me homemade goodies.

Ilya: Okay I talk about Price again now hush.

Ilya: I am telling you a secret because I think we can do nice thing, but I am starting a charity. With Hollander.

Ilya: yes, yes, is very surprising

Old Man Scott: We are definitely coming back to this but I also want to know what the fuck this has to do with Price.

Ilya: Is a charity about mental health because of my mother, and so I always look for stories about hockey players who are doing not so good.

Ilya: I would like to speak to Price, I think, to say hello. Remind him that there are nice players in the league even though he is stuck in Toronto where people are terrible.

Old Man Scott: I take it all back Ilya you’re actually a great guy.

Old Man Scott: Maybe I need to see if Kip has an excuse to go to Toronto over the summer. They have an art museum, right? Maybe there’s an exhibition he wants to see.

Ilya: I will just show up because everyone knows I’m very strange and do what I want.

Ilya: Also I already have place to live in Ottawa so I am nearly already moved house. Jane wants to get designer in to do things so I think I leave them to it.

Ilya: As long as there is big bed and extra large shower he can do what he wants

Old Man Scott: Alright, I’ll let you know what I manage and timings and such. And when we’re in-person you can’t escape my questions.

Ilya: I am young and fast, you cannot catch me.

Old Man Scott: Get Fucked Rozanov.

—

Ilya sat on the bench outside the Art Gallery of Ontario, idly holding an unlit cigarette. He was flicking it back and forth between his fingers, trying to decide if he actually wanted to smoke it, when it was promptly plucked by a hand.

“Rozanov, you’re a pro-athlete. Why the fuck do you have a cigarette?” Scott Hunter grabbed it, and tossed it into the bin next to them, and then stood over Ilya, blocking the morning sun.

“Perks of being under one hundred years old is I can cheat sometimes.” Ilya said with a grin, and swung his bag onto his back, standing from the bench to be level with Scott. Ilya did find it a little strange meeting up with Scott, of all people, in the off-season, but it was nice to travel without it being a rush to get between hotel and rink and airport. Ilya wondered if more summers spent in Canada would mean he got to actually see his new country.

They exchanged a few more pleasantries about their trips while walking toward the coffee shop that Ilya had picked out as a good place to meet Ryan. Toronto was a nice place, and around the AGO wasn’t exactly a peak spot to find rabid hockey fans, so they had a little more anonymity than usual. Ilya enjoyed it — his move to Ottawa already had him experiencing all the downsides of fame when he wanted nothing more than to buy himself a couple of beers and a pizza for a night in but got photographed six times by fans.

“So what did Price have to say when you talked to him?” Scott asked, waiting at the lights to cross the road.

“Not much. Was finishing training in Buffalo before moving here. Camp starts next week so he is in hotel. No house yet.”

“Man, I can’t imagine being traded that much that you never get to live in a house you actually own. I’d go nuts if I didn’t have somewhere familiar at the end of training to head to.”

“Yes, I am not looking forward to being in new house after training. I am not big about my routine like some people, but it is nice to not have to think when you get home.”

“Exactly. And Kip has gotten very good at making dinners that I can eat even when absolutely wrecked after practice.” Ilya rolled his eyes at the soppy look Scott got on his face. He and Kip had seemingly fallen into a better routine now that Kip spent most of every day doing his work out of the house, and Ilya couldn’t help the surge of jealousy that they came home to each other almost every night.

“I think that is Ryan’s hotel.” Ilya pointed to a tall building that towered over the surrounding block.

“And this is the coffee shop?” Scott gestured to the place that lingered in it’s shadow, and Ilya nodded, letting Scott lead the way in. It was a fairly fancy place, apparently Japanese, and there was an almost overwhelming selection of teas to choose from. Ilya squinted at the menu and found the modest coffee option and got as close to a regular cappuccino as he could, while Scott went for something more elaborate. It was only when he turned around and looked around the room properly that he saw the hulking figure of Ryan Price, doing his best to sink into the background. He was holding a ratty paperback, but he was simply looking at it, not actually reading it from what Ilya could tell.

Ilya waved to the barista and pointed at the table, and she agreed to bring the drinks over, so he and Scott went to join Ryan.

“Hello Ryan Price!” Ilya said with a beaming smile, and pulled up the chair opposite Price’s around the table. “Good to see you!”

“Uh, yeah. Hi.” Ryan’s response was not over-enthusiastic, but Scott jumped in before Ilya could mention it.

“Hey there Ryan, Scott Hunter.”

“Uh, yeah. I know.” Ryan looked a little star struck, and Ilya coughed.

“No, don’t do this. I am very famous and sexy hockey player and Scott is a dinosaur. Why are you not star struck by me?”

“Roz, you played together.” Scott pointed out, taking his own seat. “He already knows you’re an asshole.”

“Yes, but very sexy asshole.” Ilya winked at Ryan, who blushed a little and looked back down at his hands.

Huh, interesting.

“So, you are probably wondering why very famous hockey player and sidekick are coming to see you?” Ilya says, taking his coffee from the barista who’d come over with his and Scott’s drinks. She asked Ryan if he wanted another, and he nodded.

“Uh, yeah. I mean, we’re not exactly… friends.”

“We could be friends. I am friends now with Scott and we don’t play together.”

“Yeah, but, you never gave me the time of day Rozanov. You’re definitely kind of an asshole.” Ryan looked a little faint at having said that out loud, and Scott just laughed.

“He’s got you there Roz,” Scott says through his laugh, and Ilya just frowns.

“I mean, yes. I am an asshole. You are not the first to say.” Ilya looked into his own coffee. “And I wanted to say that I am sorry. I should not have been so much of an asshole to you. As your captain.”

“Oh no, it’s fine. I was totally fine. It was only for a year, and we won the Stanley cup, man. That was amazing.”

“No, because you were also traded because you did not fit with team, and then you were traded again and again and again and it was not nice for you.” Ilya took a breath and corrected himself. “Not good for you.”

Ryan just shrugged. “I mean, I was alright. I’m still in the MLH.”

“No, Ryan. This sucks.” Scott said. “I’ve played for the same team my whole career, and so had Roz until now, and he chose to move. You’ve been through the ringer.”

“I know you maybe don’t want to talk about… February.” Ilya said, not really sure how to broach the subject of Ryan’s very public meltdown when the guy was clearly only just holding it together. “But you are not only hockey player that has struggle. I know at least two that also struggle. And as a good bo— captain, it is my job to see that.”

“Two? In Boston?” Ryan asked, then seemed to remember himself. “Not that you have to say, sorry. That was rude. I wouldn't want, if it was me—”

“MLH players.” Ilya wasn’t sure if the way Shane reacted to stress was exactly like Ryan’s experience, but he’d spent several practices early last season sitting with Boston’s only rookie and teaching him how to breathe just like Shane.

“Oh. But they’re, like, fine?” Ryan asked.

“I think so,” Ilya said with a shrug. “I think maybe I won’t see now that I am moving teams, but I hope that they stay okay.”

“There should be more support, though. Not just from individual captains.” Scott interjected. “That was why you were starting your… thing.”

“Ah, yes. Is why I wanted to see you. Say hello. Not just because Toronto is kind of bad, but also because I wanted you to know.” Ilya smiled. “I am starting a charity. With Hollander. It’s a mental health charity.”

“And you’re, what, going to offer therapy to hockey players?”

“Well, no.” Ilya looked at Scott who just shrugged.

“Buddy, you have barely told me about this. I’m still not over that you’re starting it with Hollander.”

“Eh, he is slow and boring but he also wants charity so that’s nice. But we don’t know about mental health things, so we have a charity that does hockey camps for kids, and then we give money that we raise to people that can help. That is the plan.”

“Oh. That’s, uh. That’s kinda cool.”

“And I am making Scott Hunter help because for some reason people think he is fun now.”

“If starting a charity with Shane Hollander, literally the nicest guy in the whole league, doesn’t balance out the fact you’re an ass, I don’t know if I can help you.” Scott said. “And what I think Roz forgot to say is that the reason we came to tell you about this is because, well, we just wanted you to know that you’re not alone. It sucks that this big thing is suddenly everyone else’s business, but at least I got to pick when it happened for me. And I know that finding out I wasn’t alone did help.”

Ilya couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows in surprise at Scott’s words. He didn’t think Scott was being serious when he’d said that it meant a lot that night they’d first talked, he’d thought it was just the end of a long list of pleasantries that he’d been offering to everyone.

But apparently it had mattered to Scott. Just like it had mattered to Ilya.

“It is also about… awareness in sport. We are very good at hockey, but most of us get there by pushing much harder than other people and that is often source of lots of stress. Makes everyone’s head go a bit funny. Some people have different support — parents and friends and partners and good teams — so they are more okay, but not everyone.” Ilya took a breath, but he didn’t know what else he wanted to say. Choosing to leave Boston didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to miss them.

“So you don’t want me to, like, do anything?” Ryan asked, breaking Ilya out of his contemplation.

“No, you have enough things to think about. Moving teams and cities and all these things are a lot, I know.” Ilya was glad again that he’d known the move was coming and he was already basically moved in, He had lived in a hotel for nearly six months when he first moved to Boston and it fucking sucked. “But if you wanted to do things in the future, it would be nice. Maybe you can come to the camp and teach very small children how to fight on the ice. Or very big children that they should not fight. Whatever you want.”

“Are you included in the very big children that shouldn’t fight?” Ryan asked, then blushed like he hadn’t meant to say anything.

Ilya laughed.

“See, you will fit right in. I think you will like Hollander also, he pretends to be a good boy but he is secretly funny. Like you.” Ilya could see the blush rising again at being compared to Shane, and Ilya let himself enjoy just how amazing everyone thought his boyfriend was. They were right.

Scott also laughed. “Oh is that how you ended up with Jane? You only like people that give you shit?”

“Just because you—” Ilya was about to start a whole tirade before Ryan asked.

“Wait, Jane? I thought you were dating that Russian girl.”

“Svetlana? No, she is friend. We maybe when we were younger, but she is not the one for me.”

“And Jane,” Scott leered on the name, “is the reason Mr Rozanov here has moved to Ottawa, of all places.”

“Wait, shit! Really?” Ryan took his new drink from the barista and held it carefully between his hands. He took a deep inhale of the steam, and carried on. “So why does nobody know who they are?”

Ilya looked at Ryan, then looked at Scott. He also noticed the way Ryan asked that. They. No gender. He was getting good at these English pronouns.

Maybe Ryan did have more in common with him and Scott than he thought.

“Ilya knows how to treat ‘em right when he actually cares about—” Scott started, valiantly, but Ilya had decided.

“Is because he is a man. He is not out so I don’t tell people who he is, but he is my boyfriend.”

“Oh! Uh. Cool! I mean, um. Congrats?”

“Yes, yes, you are very surprised, and also you know this secret so you have to be nice now.”

“Ilya, please. He was going to be nice.” Scott elbowed him playfully. “He hasn’t been in Toronto long enough for them to have rubbed off on him.” For all that he was joking around, Scott didn’t move back out of Ilya’s space, clearly trying to subtly get a little in front of Ilya in the face of Ryan’s presence. Like the guy was going to hit him or something.

“Hey, I’m not gonna say shit. I, uh. Same. I guess.”

Ilya took a sip of his coffee to hide his face. He knew he was grinning. He loved being right.

“Wait, as in you also have a secret boyfriend? Am I the only queer in the MLH unable to keep a secret?” Scott asked,

“No, I don’t have anyone. And I guess I never tried to make it a secret? I’m just a big guy that plays a lot of hockey as an enforcer, people assume.”

“That is true. Just like how I used to be seen with many women and people believe I must be super straight, like bisexual doesn’t exist.” Ilya threw his hands in the air dramatically.

“So, uh, I guess he’s not actually called Jane?” Ryan asked, now smiling at Ilya’s antics.

“My asshole teammates always want to steal my phone — maybe to get tips on how to sext their wives — so I have only ever saved him as Jane so they don’t see. I was Lily on his phone. Maybe he has changed it now, but I don’t think so. We are both trying hard to keep it secret.”

“But Kip knows him. Well, sort of. Still only as Jane, but they text a lot. Even convinced Jane to join the Admiral WAG chat,” Scott sighed heavily. “Apparently they exchange smoothie recipes, and now Kip is obsessed with adding weird tasting protein powders to my smoothies.”

“Oh yes, definitely blame Jane for that. He puts protein powder in many things. He puts it in pancakes during playoffs and thinks I don’t notice.”

“That one might be Kip’s fault, actually. He discovered protein waffle mix. It tastes alright, but we both hate cleaning the waffle machine too much to eat it often, and I think he sent the second packet to Jane.”

“Scott Hunter, using underhanded tactics to ruin my hockey! I knew you were out to get me.”

“Wow, underhanded, big word from you.”

“Oh, so you didn’t hate me when you ribbed me then. This is actually just what you’re like.” Ryan interrupted.

“Oh yeah, the more he likes you the more he chirps,” Scott rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling.

Ilya gave a big grin.

‘You have no idea.’

—

[Ilya created a group chat with: Old Man Scott, Ryan Price]

Ilya: there is man who works at Ottawa who has many buttons. What is this flag?

Ilya: [image]

Old Man Scott: That’s one of the gender ones that I don’t know.

Ryan Price: Nope, asexual.

Old Man Scott: Fuck

Old Man Scott: Nobody tell the guys at kingfisher this, they already mocked me when I asked about the progress pride flag.

Ilya: Which is that one?

Old Man Scott: The rainbow one with the triangle of extra colours.

Ryan Price: Wanna see another fun one? Unfortunately, Ilya can’t have it.

Ryan Price: [image]

Ilya: Why can I not have it?

Ryan Price: it’s the Bear pride flag.

Ilya: WHEN DO THEY MAKE SPECIAL PRIDE FLAG FOR BOSTON BEARS AND KEEP IT FROM ME?

Ryan Price: Not that kind of bear, Ilya.

Ryan Price: I’ll explain it next time we play Boston.

—

Ilya: I changed my mind I hate gay people.

Ilya changed the group name to [Canada has best gays]

—

Ryan Price contact edited: Hockey Bear