Rating:

Mature

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

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

Relationships:

Kip Grady/Scott Hunter, Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Kip Grady & Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Scott Hunter (Game Changers), Kip Grady, Elena Rygg, Original Male Character(s)

Additional Tags:

Not Canon Compliant, Ilya Rozanov Needs A Hug, And by god Kip gives him one, Light Angst, Secret Relationship, Protective Ilya Rozanov, Pre-Episode: s01e04 Rose, listen idk where this happens but it’s in there somewhere, Ilya Rozanov Loves Shane Hollander, Kip Grady loves Scott Hunter, Kip Grady & Ilya Rozanov Friendship, Angst with a Happy Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Mentions of Racism, Texting Fic

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-01-21 Updated: 2026-02-12 Words: 6,981 Chapters: 7/?

Knock, Knock

Summary

Now, Kip was hardly the most well versed in hockey, but he knew enough. Between his dad and Scott, he’d learned a lot about the game, and he’d certainly watched enough to recognize some of the more famous players. So when he looked across the hall at the offending door, he absolutely recognized Ilya fucking Rozanov standing in the hallway, looking at him.

Shane Hollander’s door clicked shut behind Rozanov, and neither of them moved.

or

Kip leaves a hookup with Scott at one of the All-Stars games. Ilya leaves a hookup with Shane at that same All-Stars game. At the exact same time.

Chaos ensues.

Chapter 1

Chapter Notes

Kip was standing by Scott’s hotel room door, pleasantly sore and very, very tired. This was an extremely rare occurrence, getting to be with Scott somewhere other than at home. And it had been Scott’s idea, no less.

Scott had, unsurprisingly, been invited to the All-Stars game again this year. Kip had silently preened over this, proud of his extremely successful boyfriend, even if it was still being kept quiet. What was surprising, however, was Scott offering to get Kip and Elena tickets to the All-Stars game. 

“I want you to be there, even if I’m the only one who will know,” Scott had said, and Kip had seen in his eyes how much it was taking him, how scared he was. It was one of the sweetest things Scott could have said, so of course he agreed. And then Scott had surprised him further by saying that if things at the hotel looked good, Kip could come over that night after the game.

“Everyone will be busy partying, and you’ll be there late enough that no one will see you leave,” he had said, and Kip had a frankly inappropriate reaction to that particular statement. 

And so, they had been extremely careful. Kip had made it to Scott’s room unseen, taking the stairs and making sure the hall was empty before going to Scott’s room. They had one hell of a night, and Scott was passed out in bed, chest moving up and down softly as Kip watched. Kip smiled and shook his head slightly, turning to the door and stepping out, looking at his phone to see 3:17 a.m. blinking back at him. He really, really needed to get back to his own hotel and sleep. They hadn’t stayed in the same one, too worried it would be too obvious. As smart as that was, Kip was not a fan of that choice right now. 

And then, Kip heard a door open.

Now, Kip was hardly the most well versed in hockey, but he knew enough. Between his dad and Scott, he’d learned a lot about the game, and he’d certainly watched enough to recognize some of the more famous players. So when he looked across the hall at the offending door, he absolutely recognized Ilya fucking Rozanov standing in the hallway, looking at him. 

The door clicked shut behind Rozanov, and neither of them moved.

Kip was panicking, he realized. It was three in the fucking morning, and he, a random man, just left a hotel room on the floor reserved for the All-Stars hockey players, freshly showered. This was exactly what Scott was afraid of. He had to repress a hysterical laugh. He knew exactly what this looked like, because it was exactly what it looked like. He just hooked up with Scott, and now he’s-

Wait. 

Something clicked in Kip’s mind as he looked at Rozanov, and he stopped, taking him in. Rozanov’s hair was wet, and he was wearing sweats, a jacket that was half unzipped, and a tank top. His eyes were wide with what looked like barely restrained horror, and there was a very fresh hickey on his collarbone. He was also leaving a room on the floor reserved for players at three in the fucking morning, freshly showered. And the room he just came out of was not his. It was Shane Hollander’s.

How did Kip know this? Because in Scott’s careful planning, he had mentioned to Kip that his room was at the end of the hall by the stairs, across from Shane Hollander’s room. 

“Shane’s a good guy, but hardly a party animal. He’ll be asleep early,” Scott had said. “There’s no way he’ll notice you.”

And, well, Scott had been right. Hollander certainly hadn’t noticed him. But it seemed that Scott had also been wrong about Hollander going to sleep early. Kip had to stifle another completely inappropriate nervous laugh at the thought.

It was then that Rozanov recovered from the shock of seeing Kip standing there, his face dropping into a harsh mask. With a quick step, he crossed the hall and grabbed Kip’s arm, yanking him into the stairwell. Kip was too shocked to say anything for a moment, which was probably good, because bringing more attention to them was the last thing either of them needed right now.

As soon as he’d eased the stairwell door shut, Rozanov was on him. He got up in Kip’s face, snarling.

“You do not tell anyone about this. Anyone. If you do this, you will regret it,” Ilya hissed, trying to stay quiet. 

As terrifying as it was to have a six-foot-something Russian who was known for getting into fights on the ice threatening him, Kip felt a sharp stab of pity. Because Rozanov’s eyes weren’t angry, they were scared. It was the same fear Kip saw in Scott’s eyes when they talked about what would happen if people knew he was gay. 

But for Rozanov, it was different. Because Rozanov wasn’t any random player, he was Russian. And the person he loved wasn’t just someone no one knew, it was Shane Hollander, the other side of the rivalry that the NHL had been pitching since they were teenagers. Kip knew it could be career ending, possibly life threatening for Rozanov, if this secret got out. And if it were Scott in this situation, Kip knew that nothing the person who had found him could say would ever really convince him that he was safe. He had to imagine that the same applied to Rozanov. 

Actually, there was one thing he could say. And as pissed as Scott might be at him in the morning, he didn’t want to leave Rozanov terrified and looking over his shoulder any more than he already was. Taking a deep breath, he hoped Scott would understand when he told him later.

“Rozanov. Rozanov,” Kip said firmly, interrupting Rozanov’s continued threats. Rozanov stopped, looking at him warily. Kip pressed on. “Look, I am hardly in any position to be judging you, let alone telling people.”

Rozanov’s brows furrowed, and Kip could see him trying to figure out what he meant. He was patient, figuring that the stress probably wasn’t helping with Rozanov’s grip on the English language right now. After a few moments, Rozanov looked at him. Really looked at him, for the first time since they’d locked eyes. Kip saw his glance darting over him, seeing all of the signs that Kip knew were there, and then his mouth dropped open slightly. 

“Oh,” he said quietly. “You and-?”

“Yeah,” Kip answered, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, and he’s going to fucking kill me for telling you that.”

The tension released from Rozanov’s body, and he looked… soft, in a way Kip had never seen before on the ice or in his interviews. He seemed like he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. Kip felt a pang of protectiveness for Rozanov, surprising himself. He was still so young, and he had such a huge secret weighing on him. Secrets, really, because at least Kip was openly gay. Rozanov couldn’t even have that yet. 

“Listen. I promise, I will not tell anyone this happened. Not even Scott, if you don’t want me to.” Although that would be hard for him, it wasn’t his place. “You’re safe with me.”

Rozanov looked at Kip, then nodded and answered softly. “You are safe with me, too.”

Before he could talk himself out of it, Kip pulled the Russian into a hug. Rozanov stiffened, then relaxed into it, wrapping his arms lightly around Kip like he thought he’d break. Kip almost snorted. Fucking hockey players and their ridiculous muscles. 

“Okay,” Kip said, pulling back. He kept his hands on Rozanov’s arms, and if Rozanov’s eyes were a little damp, Kip pretended not to see it. “What do you want to do now? Never talk about this again? Is it okay if I tell Scott?”

Rozanov seemed to think it over for a moment before answering. “Yes, you can tell Hunter. But tell him that I will check him through the boards if he ever mentions me to Hollander again.”

Okay, noted. Kip was going to have to ask Scott about that one. “I am not going to tell him that.” 

Rozanov smirked slightly, and a little bit of the on-camera persona showed up. “Fine, fine. But you will tell him to leave Shane alone, yes?”

Double noted, the situation and the use of Hollander’s first name. So much was going on right now. “Yes, I’ll tell him.”

There was a beat of hesitation, and then, “I do not want to pretend this did not happen, I think. I do not have anyone to talk about…” he gestured towards the door, “this, with. It could be nice to have someone who knows. Someone who will not tell.”

Kip’s heart nearly broke for him. Of course he couldn’t tell anyone about it. Who did Ilya Rozanov have in his corner on this? Shane Hollander, apparently, and that seemed to be it. Kip would go insane without Elena to listen to him and ground him, and his situation was far less complicated than Rozanov’s. Ilya’s? Maybe he should be using his first name. It wasn’t like Kip was a hockey player, he could use first names like a normal person.

“I would like that,” Kip said, smiling. “Do you want my phone number?”

Ilya nodded, taking his phone out of his pocket and handing it to Kip. Kip typed his number in and sent a text to himself before handing the phone back.

“There. Now you can talk to me any time you want. If there’s anything you need to get off your chest about…” he gestured towards the door like Ilya had, “that, feel free. I’m never going to judge you. I promise.”

This time, Kip felt himself choke up a little bit when Ilya’s eyes watered, and Ilya nodded stiffly. 

“Okay,” Ilya said, and then, softer, “thank you.”

He couldn’t hug him again. That would be weird. So he just nodded at him. “Of course. Get some rest, All-Star,” he teased, and Ilya grinned, face lighting up. Oh, boy.

“Ah, yes. Very tired after so much winning. Tell ancient Scott Hunter I can always help arrange Life Alert so he can keep playing safely,” Ilya said, and Kip rolled his eyes, fighting the smile that rose on his lips at the ridiculous chirping. 

“Goodnight, Ilya,” Kip said, turning and walking down the stairs. 

“What? Is very important to care about safety of senior citizens!” Ilya called down after him.

“Good night, Ilya!”

—

Later that day…

“You told fucking who?”

Chapter End Notes

This was supposed to be kind of a funny one, but then it just wasn’t. It had a mind of its own and kind of turned into something weirdly sweet. Hopefully it’s mostly in character lol

Chapter 2

Chapter Notes

Scott had, as predicted, taken the news that Kip had told Rozanov about them extremely poorly.

However, once Kip had explained the situation to him, Scott had calmed down a bit. It was probably more because of how shocked he was about Hollander and Rozanov than anything else, but Kip would take it. At least he wasn’t on the verge of a panic attack anymore.

“Rozanov and Hollander are…” Scott started, and then trailed off, face going pale. “Oh god.”

Kip raised an eyebrow, staring at Scott. “What?”

Scott put his head in his hands, groaning. “Jesus. Hollander chirped me on the ice once. Nothing crazy, just a little dig. And I told him that he was starting to sound like Rozanov.”

Ah. So that was what Ilya had meant.

“No wonder he flipped out on me,” Scott said, a guilty frown on his lips.

“Yeah, Ilya sort of mentioned that to me,” Kip said, and Scott’s head flew up to look at him. “He told me to tell you not to mention him to Hollander again.”

Scott snorted. “I get the sense that is not how he said it to you.”

Kip just shrugged. “That was the important part.”

Scott sighed for what had to be the eightieth time that day. “Yeah. I won’t.”

There was a beat of silence. “Did you have to give him your phone number, though?”

That part, Scott could not let go of.

It had been a few days, and despite Kip getting zero texts from Ilya, he had asked Kip several times why he would want to talk to him. Eventually, Kip had huffed and told him, “Because he needs someone to talk to, and I don’t mind being that someone.”

After that, Scott had left it alone, even if Kip could tell he wasn’t a fan of the choice.

It wasn’t until nearly a week after giving Ilya his phone number that Kip got a text.

Kip shook his head, huffing a laugh under his breath. Scott looked up from where he was sitting across the couch, and Kip waved him off.

Ah, so he had told him. Kip had wondered if he would.

Kip sucked in a harsh breath. This wasn’t good. And it wasn’t just Ilya’s fault, no matter what he thought. Neither of them had meant to do it. This was the last thing he wanted. Scott looked up again, and Kip sighed.

“Rozanov told Hollander, and now he’s not talking to him,” Kip explained, and Scott nodded.

“I can’t say I’m surprised. I’ve heard Hollander can be… tightly wound,” Scott said.

So could Scott, to be fair, but Kip wasn’t about to mention that to him.

Actually, now that he was thinking about it…

And just like that, Kip was staring at Shane Hollander’s phone number in his messages. He took a deep breath before looking at Scott again.

“What if you text Hollander? Just to tell him that you’re not going to tell anyone, and that you understand what he’s going through,” Kip said.

He could see Scott blanching at the idea immediately, his typical fear rearing up. But after a moment, Scott seemed to deflate a bit. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.

“Maybe it would help,” Scott sighed to himself before looking up at Kip, face serious. “As long as I never have to text Rozanov.”

Kip did a silent victory dance in his head. “That’s fine, I don’t think he’s expecting you to anyway. Here, I’ll send you Shane’s number.”

He heard the notification on Scott’s phone, and Scott opened it, looking at it as if it were a live grenade for a long moment. Finally, he began typing, and Kip went back into his messages with Ilya.

Jesus. Poor Ilya was having an even harder time than Kip thought. They were just, what, hooking up? No, you don’t get that emotional and worried over a hookup. Whatever was going on there, Rozanov really cared about Hollander. And Kip suspected that those feelings didn’t only go one way.

He was still stewing in his thoughts when Scott made a little victory noise. Kip coughed at him lightly, and Scott looked up.

“He’s calming down a lot, I think. I told him I’m not judging him, and we’d never tell anyone. I also told him that it wasn’t Rozanov’s fault,” Scott said, nose wrinkling, “even though I hate to defend that asshole. He didn’t do it on purpose.”

Kip let out a breath of relief. Thank god for small favors. Maybe this would be enough to fix whatever was going on with those two. He would’ve felt terrible if he was the reason Ilya lost the one person he clearly cared about.

His phone pinged, and he looked down.

Holy fuck, that was a relief. Kip felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest.

He really never stopped. Kip rolled his eyes, putting his phone down. He thought Scott was very sexy, but he didn’t feel like bringing that up with Rozanov. For now, things were looking up.

And then-

“Why did an unknown number just text me a picture of a dinosaur and say “your relative?”

Oh shit.

Chapter End Notes

Okay, it’s definitely become at least more into the funny side! I don’t know if I’ll expand this more, but I might make more random text exchanges and group chats going on here. There probably won’t be much plot, but hey, that’s what the actual show is for!

Chapter 3

It took less than two days before a group chat was formed.

Shane complained about it being risky more than a few times, insisting they use fake names for him and Ilya in their contacts. Kip had agreed to this, if only to make him stop freaking out. Scott tried to leave it no less than six times before Kip told him to stop, because Ilya just added him back every time he left and it was blowing up his phone. He was not happy about it, but he did stop trying to leave.

“Just mute the group chat if you don’t want to see the notifications,” Kip said. Scott thought for a moment, then shook his head.

“It might actually be worse to not know what Rozanov is saying about me,” he’d answered.

And just like that, the group chat became a permanent fixture.

Ilya had been the one to name it, of course. His choice had been… controversial.

After that little fiasco, the group chat became… almost normal. It was, unsurprisingly, a lot of hockey, and even more chirping. Kip wasn’t entirely sure how he’d managed to become the emotional support normal person of three queer hockey players, but it was working for them. And it was definitely never boring, despite what Ilya would say about it.

A few weeks into the group chat, right after Montreal had played the Admirals, Ilya texted the group.

It took less than five minutes into the first period for Ilya to break Gardner’s jaw. Ilya had chirped him relentlessly, eventually getting him to swing first. Kip could’ve sworn Scott’s lip quirked up before he got it under control to act shocked.

Gardner had tried to tell Scott that it wasn’t a big deal, that Scott had gone soft for caring about it. After that, Scott had washed his hands of it.

“It’s his funeral, not that he knows it. It’s Rozanov’s turn,” Scott had said.

Kip couldn’t deny that it was satisfying to watch Gardner be taken off the ice with a giant bruise and bloody mouth. He wasn’t usually a fan of violence, but some people really just needed to be hit. Despite getting a major penalty for it, Rozanov looked satisfied the whole way to the box.

He was clearly head over heels for Shane. Kip wasn’t sure how the two of them couldn’t see that. It wasn’t often that Ilya Rozanov got protective of anyone, from what Kip had seen. Anyone, that is, except for Shane Hollander.

God, they were hopeless. He was going to end up being their relationship counselor, wasn’t he?

As soon as Scott got home, he was shaking his head, laughing as he came over to Kip.

“I have never heard someone use such creative insults in my life. Rozanov might be an asshole, but no one can call him unoriginal,” Scott said.

“Yeah?” Kip asked, curious.

“He told Gardner that he looked like his mother had an affair with a frog. And that was what he started with.”

Jesus Christ.

Chapter 4

Chapter Notes

The second they turned on the Boston v. Tampa game, Kip knew something was wrong.

Scott’s brows furrowed as he set the remote down, looking at the tv. “What the hell is wrong with Rozanov?”

The teams were warming up, and Ilya did not look good. He was moving around the ice sluggishly, and when the cameras came closer, he seemed pale. Kip couldn’t help the sympathetic noise he made at the close up of Ilya’s face.

“I don’t know,” he said, already pulling out his phone. Because if anyone would know, it would be Shane Hollander.

Kip showed Scott the messages, and Scott rolled his eyes. “Of course he would know. Sometimes I wonder how the two of them haven’t figured out that they actually like each other yet.”

He wasn’t the only one. Kip had that thought several times a day.

His phone pinged again, and he looked down.

Kip looked back up at the screen again, hissing through his teeth. Ilya looked more shaky than he had when warmups had started, and they were about to go into the face off. God damn it, Ilya.

“He’s playing with the flu,” Kip explained, and Scott grimaced.

“Jesus. No wonder he looks like shit. Maybe he won’t be so cocky after a game for once,” Scott said, and Kip hit him in the arm.

“Be nice,” he said, going back to his phone.

Kip rolled his eyes. Sure, Shane.

Even if Ilya wasn’t going to see it until after the game, Kip figured he could text him. He wanted to make sure he was alright.

After that, Kip had put his phone down and focused on the game. Ilya wasn’t playing anywhere near his normal ability, but he managed to make it through the game. The Raiders lost, but that wasn’t exactly shocking with their top player out of commission. Scott turned the tv off, standing and stretching.

“I thought that game would be more interesting. It was a little disappointing,” he said, and Kip could hear what he was refusing to say. That he wished Rozanov hadn’t been sick, that he’d been playing to his full ability. Even if Scott would deny that until the day he died, Kip knew.

“Are you coming to bed?” Scott asked him then, a lazy smile on his face.

Yes. Yes he was. Kip stood up immediately, leaving his phone on the couch. They’d get it later.

Later ended up being a couple hours after the game had ended. Kip had remembered that his phone was still on the couch after he had already laid down, and Scott had gone out to get it for him. Kip was wrapped up in the blankets comfortably, very grateful for his ridiculously sweet boyfriend. Scott came back shortly and handed it over, and Kip checked it as he thanked him. Scott settled in next to him as he looked at his phone. He had two texts from Ilya.

That was as close as Ilya would ever come to admitting that he liked it when people cared about him, so Kip would take it.

“Rozanov still kicking?” Scott asked, scrolling on his own phone.

“Yeah, he’s okay. Just needs a few days off,” Kip answered. Scott let out a noncommittal hum in response.

Kip had just settled down to sleep, plugging his phone in, when he heard it buzz with another notification.

”Scott Hunter!”

“Fuck.”

Chapter End Notes

This is genuinely so fun to write. There’s not really much plot, but it’s chill and I like it. I’m glad you guys seem to be enjoying it too!

Chapter 5

When Ilya texted, it was around 10 p.m., and Kip couldn’t say he wasn’t surprised by it. He had been settled in on the couch, working on some things for grad school, and had figured that Ilya would be out partying or something after Boston’s win. Picking up his phone, he opened the chat.

Kip felt his eyebrows raise. Ilya Rozanov, notorious party boy and playboy, didn’t think going out to celebrate a game he got a hat trick in sounded appealing?

Interesting.

Huh. That was definitely supposed to be a joke. Except apparently, it was true. Ilya Rozanov was tired of being hit on.

Or was he just tired of hookups? That mattered, Kip decided.

Oh my god, Kip could strangle him. This may be the most emotionally constipated man he had ever met, and he was a gay man in New York. How had Ilya not realized that he stopped wanting to hook up with strangers because he wanted Shane more? Had he realized? Maybe he did know and just wasn’t telling Kip. But even then, that was pretty bad, because Kip knew damn well he wasn’t telling Shane that information.

Jesus.

While Kip had been mentally slapping Ilya, he had continued texting.

For fuck’s sake. Kip loved Ilya, he really did, but sometimes he gave him a headache. Like right now.

And he had to repress a laugh at the thought that Hollander probably literally was “rubbing off” on Ilya.

Ew, actually. He hated that mental image.

It absolutely was serious, but saying that wasn’t going to get them anywhere, so Kip decided to pick his battles.

Kip shook his head fondly. Asshole. He’d let him get away with changing the subject, because this was something he was clearly just starting to realize about himself. Baby steps, Kip told himself. Even if what was really going on with those two was as glaringly obvious as a god damn lighthouse to him, they clearly were not there yet.

He’d just have to be patient.

When Scott got back a few days later, Kip gave him the rundown on what was going on with Ilya, and Scott’s eyes lit up, a slow grin coming onto his face.

“Oh my god. Ilya Rozanov is whipped. I never thought I’d see the day.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong. But still…

“Don’t tease him about this, okay? He’s barely realizing it himself, I think. You might freak him out really badly,” Kip said, and Scott nodded.

“Yeah, I know. I’m not that much of a dick.”

Then, after a beat of silence…

“But I am absolutely remembering this for later when I can make fun of him for it.”

Kip groaned, head in his hands. It was like dealing with children, honestly.

At least it was entertaining.

Chapter 6

Chapter Notes

When Kip saw the notification come into the group chat, he knew they were in trouble.

Oh, Shane. Sweet, chronically offline Shane Hollander, who only cared about hockey. They were all in for a wild ride. Kip groaned.

Oh, Christ. Kip was not getting paid enough for this. Never in his life did he think he’d be explaining the concept of shipping to two of the best hockey players in North America at 3 p.m. on a Thursday, but here he was. He regretted several life choices that had led him here.

No. No fucking way was Kip going to be caught in the middle of Ilya trying to bait Shane into being jealous like some kind of weird foreplay. Not in the group chat. He pulled up his texts with Ilya frantically.

No answer. Kip did not feel like he had won that conversation. Switching back to the group chat, he nearly slammed his head against the wall.

Kip honestly wasn’t sure if this was going to make him jealous or make him laugh. It could go either way.

Holy shit, Ilya was a lot. Kip was laughing despite his best efforts, and he knew this was going to be a recurring issue. He was proven right not ten seconds later, when Ilya sent a link to an account on Twitter dedicated to “Hollanov.”

“Oh my god,” Kip said into the empty apartment, watching as Shane and Scott sent horrified messages back.

Actually, this might be fun. After all, Kip wasn’t going to get caught in any shipping.

And if he started looking for ship posts to send to Ilya to use as ammunition, that was his business.

Chapter End Notes

I’m considering a few things related to this fic, so feedback would be welcome on this!

1) Would anyone be interested in a companion fic following the Scott and Shane interactions of this? Kind of like this one, just the other side of the dynamic.

2) I’m thinking I might start either adding plot to this one, or letting this one be the lighthearted one and doing a sequel where plot comes in.

Any suggestions on these ideas are welcome!

Chapter 7

Chapter Notes

The next Ilya Incident™ started with a random text in the afternoon.

Kip blinked at his phone owlishly. Was he about to have to explain what a crush was to a twenty-something Russian hockey player?

There was no god damn way.

Despite himself, Kip started to get curious. Who was setting off Ilya’s gaydar? And why did he think his was so good?

Kip snorted. Of course Ilya would say something like that. It was a wonder that Shane had put up with him for this long. Although he probably did have a point with the gaydar thing. To take a risk like going after Shane, he must have been pretty fucking sure. Of course this was another skill that Ilya secretly had, because why not? Sometimes Kip wondered if there was anything Ilya wasn’t good at, other than feelings. At least Kip still had that one-up on him.

Which, honestly, was not a good thing, because that was how he kept ending up an accidental relationship counselor to elite athletes. How were they all so stupid? And he said it with love, but come on.

His phone buzzed again, and he looked down.

At this point, with how often he found himself explaining things from the internet, he should just buy them all updated slang dictionaries every year. Maybe then he’d be a little safer, because these boys were hopeless, and Ilya was not helping him in the slightest. In fact, it was almost exclusively Ilya’s fault that he kept ending up here. Kip sighed. Ilya was lucky he liked him.

The group chat instantly devolved into bickering. Kip shook his head, locking his phone. Then, thinking better of it, he opened it again and went to Amazon. Maybe he really could buy them internet dictionaries. It wouldn’t hurt to try and save himself the future headache.

Oh, who was he kidding? They’d find a way to give him one anyway.

Chapter End Notes

We are so back! I honestly kind of ran out of ideas to add onto this, but I still love it! When I manage to think of things, I’ll put them in. Suggestions would be welcome if you have anything you’d like to see!