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

Characters:

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

Additional Tags:

Canonical Character Death, Funeral, Discussion of Homophobia, Homophobia, discussion of suicide, Irina Rozanova Haunts the Narrative

Language:

English

Series:

Part 7 of Ilya's Big Gay Bromance

Stats:

Published: 2026-02-12 Words: 4,397 Chapters: 1/1

This is Not Enough

Summary

Scott has heard that there's something going down in the Voyageurs locker room. And then he hears about Duncan Harvey.

Notes

Thank you to Atom, K and darnacles for reading over this and giving my beta feedback, and generally thank you to basically the whole Game Changers Library Server for the cheering me through the writing process.

Extra thanks to Merlioske for the Russian vibe check. I've decided to leave it all in there and let y'all suffer. I might come back and leave translation notes another day.

For those who've read Tough Guy, you know the nature of the funeral depicted, so fair warning that writing Ilya's PoV for this was rough.

[Canada is most gay]

Old Man Scott: Hey Ilya, you mind if I add someone to the chat?

Ilya: you found another gay hockey player?

Old Man Scott: I’m just… I’m hearing things out of a particular locker room that makes me think some things.

Old Man Scott: You don’t happen to know something you’re not telling me?

Ilya: I know many things you don’t. how to score goals. how to use twitter. list is very long.

Old Man Scott: I don’t know why I keep expecting you to be serious.

—

Old Man Scott: Heads up, because I know you’re close with Hollander and you might want to bring it up to him.

Old Man Scott: The AHL guy they brought in to cover Mitty’s injury time reached out and, uh

Old Man Scott: The locker room is bad man. He didn’t say much, but there’s an out player on the team and the vibes are rancid.

—

Ilya: I think Scott has heard about your coming out.

Ilya: I also think he has heard that your team sucks.

Ilya: What do you want me to do?

Jane: I’m so tired I don’t know.

Ilya: are you home?

Jane: Nearly.

Ilya: Tell me when you’re home любимый

—

“I didn’t think it would bother me this much. They’re not, like, awful. But it’s just constant. They’ll follow my lead on a play, they won’t risk the game, but I sometimes feel like I’m on my own out there. At least when Jorly was here for a few weeks there was someone other than Pike that would talk to me.”

Ilya knew that he had to let Shane get this out, that once he’d opened up he had to let it run it’s course or he’d get all hurt and sad and then not be able to talk to Ilya at all. But he could hear the exhaustion weighing Shane down, hear the way he stuttered slightly when his words started to unlock how he was feeling. God, he loved this man so fucking much and the three days before they were going to be able to spend time together felt far too long.

Ilya so rarely acknowledged his own deep hunger to be holding Shane, to be feeling his skin and his breathing and his heartbeat. He wanted to feel Shane’s hands on his ribs and his waist, holding him gently while they talked or watched games or made food. The tiny tastes that he’d had on their rare longer stays together only made him hungrier.

And he knew that Shane was ignoring what he’d said, that it was too much for him right now on top of everything else. But they had to look at it. Together. Otherwise… something else would happen. And they had no way of helping it be good or bad.

“We talk about Scott now, lyubimiy?” Ilya said, when Shane finally finished. Fuck, he hated this.

“I… yeah. I guess. What does Scott know?”

“He said that the AHL guy - you say he was Jorly? Jorleson. He heard what was said to you. He said it was… really not good. And he though maybe Scott could help. He didn’t say who it was, but you are captain so I think Scott wants you to make it better. He does not know that you can’t make it better if you are the gay.”

Shane didn’t say anything, but Ilya could hear the hitch in Shane’s breath.

“Shane. Shane. I am here, lyubimiy. It’s okay. Scott wants to help, he will not blame you. You don’t have to share anything you don’t want, but this is…. maybe it can be good, yes? Scott is not evil Voyageur. He is good person. You know Kip, Kip would not be with someone who was like that.”

“Yeah well I didn’t think I would be on a team with people like that.”

“I know, dorogoi. I know. They are your team and you want better.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Make a plan Hollander. You love to make a plan. Make Yuna proud.”

Ilya heard Shane laugh, but it was a wet laugh, and Ilya could see in his mind how Shane must look, silent tears falling down his face while listening to Ilya, not wanting to give away how he was feeling.

—

Ilya: I have spoken to Hollander. I think he will reach out to talk to you soon. Be nice.

Old Man Scott: I’m always nice, Roz. But I’m not gonna be nice if he’s just letting the room bully one of his teammates.

Ilya: okay

—

Old Man Scott: Hey Ilya, call me when you get a minute.

—

“Scott Hunter, hello. You talked to Hollander.”

“Hello Ilya. How are you? How’s the weather?”

“It is January in New York the weather is always bad, now tell me about Hollander.”

“Christ, Rozanov. Yes, I talked to Shane. And he said that I could talk to you about it. Roz, did you know? That it was him?”

Ilya leaned back on his couch. He and Scott both had games later today so he knew there was only so long that they could stay on the phone before they each had to head out for their pre-game routines, but putting this off wasn’t going to help anyone.

“Yes. He came out to team just before we announced the foundation so it was in his mind when we announced. It came up.”

“Shit, Roz. You could have said something before I talked to him. Christ I accused him of being lenient with a team that is actively bullying him.”

“Is not my secret to tell. I said you were calling but he didn’t want me to say anything before.”

“Hey if coming out to my teammates had gone like that I think I’d have gone right back in that closet in a heartbeat so I get it.”

“Yes.”

There was a long moment of silence between them, which Scott broke.

“So, I asked him if he wanted to be added to our chat. I said that it was you, me, and Price in there, but I think he’s too freaked out at the moment to go anywhere else. I wish he would come, though. I think he could do with more friends.”

“I also have asked him before, but he is… nervous. He is nervous even when his whole team aren’t being assholes.”

“God, I play Montreal first game back after All Stars. How am I supposed to look any of those bastards in the eye? At least I probably only have to talk to Hollander on the ice.”

“Last time you talked on the ice he yelled at you. Was a fun day, first time he got in an ice fight in his whole career.” Ilya tried to bring some levity to the conversation, but Scott swore again.

“Fuck, I think he thought I was chirping on him sleeping with you. Fuck me, no wonder he didn’t want to say anything to me, he probably thinks I’d be an asshole about it.”

“Hunter. Scott. He is just scared. He is always scared. He is scared about hockey things and foundation things and gay things. Is not you.”

“Yeah, well. I still feel bad. The game is at home for us so maybe I can invite him to the Kingfisher—”

Ilya started laughing before Scott could finish his thought. “Hunter, Shane is not a going out to bar person. Even a gay hockey bar. Invite him to your house for ginger ale and something boring and maybe he will come. He had Ryan for tea once.”

Ilya’s phone started buzzing against his ear. He took the phone away from his face and stared at it, not quite comprehending the combination of text messages that he was getting. In a small voice in the speaker, Ilya heard Scott curse.

“Ilya. ILYA? Hey, you getting messages about Harvey?” Scott’s voice came out of the phone distantly, and Ilya switched it to speaker. He was looking at the message from his coach, apparently coming directly from the MLH with a notice that it would be made public in the morning.

“Yes I... I did not know. Did you know?” Ilya’s voice was shaking. It was an accident. Pills. He took a whole bottle of pills.

“That he was going to... God. No.” He’s such a strong player. So happy. So great. He seemed a little off today, did you notice? The comments that everyone made about him after games going around his head.

A text from Ryan, in the chat.

Hockey Bear: I’m going to Harvey’s funeral. We weren’t close, but I have to.

Ilya opened the chat and watched the ‘Hockey Bear is typing’ start and stop and start again over and over until finally

Hockey Bear: Are you?

“You see Ryan’s message?” Ilya asked Scott, still feeling numb.

“Yes. I’ll, uh. Fuck, it’s All Star weekend. We’re playing.”

“I think maybe we can miss one. I will go.”

“Okay. I’ll go too. I’ll message him back now. We can… we’ll talk about Hollander later.”

Ilya: See you there

Old Man Scott: See you there

—

The funeral was sombre. Ilya stood beside Ryan, him and Scott bracketing him closely. Shane... Shane had wanted to come. He'd said to Ryan that he would have come if he hadn't made other commitments during the bye-week other than All Star, that he wanted to be there for Ryan as a friend, even though they barely knew each other.

Ilya knew what was really happening. Shane was so scared that missing such a big promotional moment for himself when he was so stressed on the team was what actually kept him away. Ilya tried to understand, he did, but it seemed strange to think so much of hockey right now.

Ryan though... Ryan was struggling. More than Ilya had suspected. He carried himself like he was in pain constantly, and there was something in his front pocket that he kept grabbing hold of reflexively. It wasn't his phone, that was also in his hand almost constantly, and he kept looking at it like he was expecting to hear from someone, but it never lit up that Ilya saw.

When the ceremony was over, the three hockey players left the wake after barely ten minutes, heading to the Tim Horton’s next door instead. They were in the middle of nowhere, and Scott and Ilya had carpooled together after flying in to Toronto, so there was really no reason for them to stay. It was three hours back into the city. Both of them had flights the following morning — Scott to St. Louis where he was going to cheer the second half of the All Star competitions, and Ilya to Montreal, where he was going to wait for Shane and spend as much of their shared week off together as possible.

Sitting in the Tim Horton’s together with Ryan, they all stared at their coffees, eating the box of Timbits in the middle of the table mechanically.

“You never think it's going to happen to someone you know. I mean, you hear about it happening, sometimes. But like... not to us.” Scott said into his coffee.

“He and I... we talked. A few times. I knew he was taking painkillers. I mean, you don’t get hit on the ice as much as us without having to take something. But... not like this.”

“I knew three in Russia who were same. Young. Too young to be dosing themselves like they did. I did not know if it was doping or it was other kinds of drugs, but three of them since I have come to America. My age. I did not go to funerals — they were during season and I cannot go all the way home between games, there is no time, but I wanted to.” Ilya took a sip. Dorevski. Sokolov. Nikitin. He'd played with them when they were boys, and none of them made it to thirty.

Thinking about them was easier right now than thinking about his mother. He couldn’t afford to focus on her too much, else he’d fall apart so completely he wasn’t sure he could come back from it.

“I’ve, um. I’ve been taking pills. For my back. Coach Cooper… I think he would replace me if he could. I can't afford to miss games. I'm trying to take extra recovery time, not doing optional skates, but I’m....”

“Ryan, you are allowed to rest. You should be resting. Shit man, even if you play hockey until you’re forty-five, you still want to get another fifty years out of all your limbs after that. I can help you talk to the commissioner, maybe find—”

“No, don’t. I think this... This has been good. Obviously not good. But like... I think I needed to see. Fabian and I... we had a fight about it. A big one. He’s worried about me taking stuff to be able to play.”

“I mean, that's fair Ryan. If you gotta take something to step out on to the ice every game that's not great.” Scott nodded along to Ryan’s words.

“Yeah. I know that. I think I always knew that. But fuck. I don’t want to lose hockey.”

“What else do you do?” Ilya asked. “Hockey is very big, yes, it takes up all your life right now. But surely you have other things? And you are maybe not biggest star, but you still have good pay from your career, you don't have to work straight away if you don't want.” Ilya said.

“I don’t know. Hazy has his comics and Hollander has his ten million brand deals and you have your partying. I just skate and then go home. I read, I guess. Though not much.”

“What does Fabian do?” Scott asked.

“He’s a musician. He works odd-jobs to pay the bills, but he’s starting to get a real following. Half the time we're out together he gets recognised over me. Then again, I hardly ever get seen in public without my helmet on, so maybe they just don't know my face.”

“Okay, so you become kept house husband of famous musician.” Ilya said, but Ryan just laughed.

“Yeah, assuming he takes me back after I fucked it up. He was so upset about the pills. I don’t... maybe he think I'm going the same way as Harvey. One day he’s gonna find me in the bottom of the shower, surrounded by pills and just... gone.”

“No, Ryan, we do not do this. We do not let you,” Ilya said, determination in his voice. “This is why we have Irina Foundation. Even if you are not playing hockey, even if you just want to lie on beach and read books, we will come and find you.”

“What Roz said. He’s very difficult to get rid of once he’s adopted you. Trust me, I’ve tried.” Scott grinned, though it was strained. “And I’ll be there too. Because I want to be, not just because Roz will drag me.”

“Is true. And I do not want to find you like that. I have… I did once. My mother. Irina. I don’t know that I told you when we say why we named the foundation after her, but that is what happened. To me, also.” Ilya was aware that his English was shaky in this moment, but it was all that he could manage to say.

“Shit, Roz.” Ryan visibly pulled himself together and reached out to Ilya, but he couldn’t handle being touched right now. Bad enough that he’d not been able to look away when he said it. If he hadn’t had the dark Canadian wilderness to stare into when he’d told his boyfriend, he was sure he’d never have managed it.

Second time was easier, but it wasn’t easy.

“Do you want someone to drive back to Toronto with you?” Scott directed this at Ryan. Ilya appreciated the change of subject. “Ilya and I drove together, but I’m happy to go back alone if you want some company, or I’m sure we can organise for the hire to come and pick up the car here and we all go together.”

“Sure. I mean, yeah. Maybe. It would be nice. I’ll be leaving soon, don’t want to drive too much in the dark when I’m already feeling like crap.” Ryan tried a laugh, but Ilya recognised the same strain in his voice.

God, all three of them were a wreck.

“I’m going to see about leaving the car here, then. I’ll be right back.” Scott stood and stretched out his back from where he’d hunched over his drink, then grabbed the cup to stand outside in the snow.

“I’m, uh. Sorry about your mom, Ilya.”

“Thank you. Was long time ago.”

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck.”

“Yeah.”

Ryan stared at him for several breaths, clearly gearing up to say something. Ilya cocked his head, and Ryan started to speak, though he stammered a little at the start.

“S-so, you and Hollander…” Ryan clearly wanted to make this into a question, but he didn’t finish it.

“Yes. We are. Nobody knows.”

“But Scott knows about Jane. And he knows about Shane. I mean we could… you and I could drive to Ottawa if you wanted. It’s not much further than Toronto. And, uh. I gotta call my coach and say I’m not ready to join play yet. So I can stay until Shane gets back if you want.”

“I am flying to Montreal. Is, like, eight hours to drive, I think. We will be there long after dark.”

Ilya couldn’t help but be tempted. Not having to sit alone in Shane’s house while waiting for him to come home.

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.”

“No, thank you. If I drive I will stop at my house, and if I stop there I will not leave. Is better I stick to my plan. And also then Shane knows the plan and he will not be stressed.”

“Yeah, okay. And, uh. I know you want to keep it from Scott for some reason, but can I ask… why?”

“I think Shane is feeling like people finding out is making everything worse. He told his best friend about me and then we fight. He tells his team he is gay and they stop treating him like friends. We both know how much… baggage our rivalry brings to our relationship. It is not ideal for many reasons. So we make a plan, and the plan is that we don’t say anything until we retire. It’s simple enough.”

“Shit, so, it’s serious. You’re planning on staying together that long?”

Ilya shrugged. “Yes. Is manageable — I am in Ottawa now so is not far from Shane, we can spend more time together during season, and I don’t go back to Russia in the summer so we can be together. Is more than we’ve ever had before.”

“Fuck. I have a hard enough time trying to match up mine and Fabian’s time when we’re in the same city and can walk between each others apartments. How long have you guys been together?”

“Long time, but also not long time. Ten years by some count, only eighteen months by other.”

“Fuck.” Ryan ran a hand through his hair, and the door of the shop opened and closed, letting in a gust of freezing air and a half-frozen Admirals’ Captain.

“Alright, so there’s a place we can drop the car in town. Let’s head there and then head back, alright?”

All three men drained the last of their drinks and walked out to the parking lot, ready to drive back to Toronto.

—

“So. Hollander,” Ilya opened, when they’d been on the road for about twenty minutes.

Scott was driving, but that didn’t stop him reaching behind and smacking Ilya on the knee. Ryan was shotgun, and has stretched the seat out so that he was almost lying down. Scott has insisted when he said he didn’t want to take the painkillers that he’d been fiddling with in his pocket all day.

“Ilya I swear to god you can’t keep a secret to save your life.” Scott complained.

“He said is okay that we talk. As long as we don’t try to find him smoothie boyfriend.” Ilya grinned to himself.

“What about him? I mean, he doesn’t have to join the group chat if he doesn’t want to. He’s probably the most well adjusted about it.” Ryan said, though he didn’t open his eyes.

Ilya couldn’t help but snort with laughter.

“Ryan, you have met Shane. He has never had a feeling that he didn’t try to pretend wasn’t happening. He is probably least adjusted. And it is worse now that he came out to his team and they are shit.”

“Seriously? All of them?” Ryan asked, and this time he cracked an eye open and turned his head to look at Ilya.

“Well, maybe not all of them. But if only one or two are nice in a squad of nineteen other guys it doesn’t matter too much — has to be everybody.”

“I mean… I guess. I mean. I’m on a team with Barret and Kent, but the rest of the guys seem to be normal.”

“I feel like standards for normal should be higher than ‘not a raging homophobe’ but I guess we’ll take what we can,” Scott said.

“Problem is, we can’t do or say anything given that this is private. The Voyageurs don’t want any part of it to get out. Not Shane, and definitely not the feeling in the room.” Ilya would love for there to be some kind of consequence for the shitty Montreal team, but he knew that Shane was too afraid that his own coming out would end up mixed up in it, and that really would cause him to disappear into the woods never to be seen again.

Ilya didn’t move all the way to Ottawa just to lose his boyfriend to a fucking loon.

“I still feel like I need to say something. Fuck, being the only publicly out player fucking sucks,”

“Is terrible burden you must bear. But also maybe you don’t have to be only player that says something. I can call Marlow and see if he says something as captain in Boston. Maybe Matheson in Colorado, he’s not the worst.” Ilya tried to mentally tally the team captains he could contact.

“I can see if Sully will put me in touch with his captain in Phoenix, he might know other guys in the Western conference that would say something.” Scott said, considering.

“And I think Anderson would maybe say something too,” Ryan added, and Ilya mentally added the Buffalo captain to his list.

“Okay, so we call these captains. Then say what?” Ilya asked.

“I’ll talk to my agent - see what he suggests. And Ilya, are you gonna say anything? I know you’re new to your team but—”

“I am captain, yes. But I am captain because of the deal I made to move, I am still not all the way the captain for the players, I think. But I will talk to Bood. He was captain before and if he doesn’t want to say anything then maybe I will say as player, but we will see.”

“You ever think about coming out to your team?” Scott asked. “I mean, you sent those badges from your social media guy.”

“Maybe. I don’t know. Would have to talk about it with—” Ilya stopped himself moments before saying Shane’s name. Fuck, this was already confusing. “—Jane.”

“Fair. Would be cool if you could, like, have him stand in the crowd at your home games though. Kip is enjoying being part of the WAGs, and he says Jane is funny as fuck. It would be cool if he could be an actual WAG for his own partner’s team.”

“Maybe. Maybe.” Ilya did his best to not meet Ryan’s eye, but he could feel the weight of his stare.

—

[Scott Hunter, official statement]

Coming out is not the end of the story.

I am grateful every day to my team, who have treated me with kindness and support. Leading them to a Stanley cup probably helped, but they have been nothing but supportive of me since our win, and my public coming out.

Unfortunately, there are many players across this sport who do not receive that support. From their family, their friends, their team, their coaching staff, and their agents. There are dozens of people required to support a player at every level, and they must all be pulling you, the player, in the same direction.

I’ve been in those locker rooms. I’ve sat down with those coaches. The ones that don’t even realise what they’re saying when they talk down about men who might love other men. And the ones who do, who use that word as a serious insult across the ice.

So I call upon every player on every team to stand against this. Because being like this can only ever make your game worse. It keeps good players from reaching the top of their game. It stops talented kids from attending their camps. It makes teammates unable to trust each other on the ice.

So I call on every team, to pledge an end to this kind of locker room talk. I call on every captain to stop it on your ice. From my fellow MLH captains to the peewee coaches. We can help each other to play better hockey, and to be better friends.

There are teams out there — at all levels of play — that may not have supported me. That might have made the last year hell. I know there are parts of the MLH that still don’t like what I am, and what I stand for.

Thank you to the teams that have reached out and already pledged. You are making the sport better for everyone.

We, the players, are the face of this organisation.

We can change the game for everyone if we want.

@NYAdmirals @OttawaCentaurs @BostonBears @BuffaloBroads @PhoenixCoyotes @LAQueens @HoustonDrillers @MNNomads @BrooklynScouts

—

Old Man Scott: Thanks for the captains you sent my way.

Old Man Scott: Sorry we couldn’t get Toronto on the list

Hockey Bear: Honestly I’m not surprised. But it wont matter for long.