Rating:

Mature

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid

Relationships:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Kip Grady/Scott Hunter, Ryan Price/Fabian Salah, Eric Bennett/Kyle Swift, Troy Barrett/Harris Drover, Former Troy Barrett/Adrian Dela Cruz

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Adrian Dela Cruz, Troy Barrett, Harris Drover, Kyle Swift, Eric Bennett, Ryan Price (Game Changers), Fabian Salah, Kip Grady, Scott Hunter, Bargain Brunch Squad, Wyatt Hayes

Additional Tags:

Truly the gang's all here, Adrian Sucks Agenda, Bargain Brunch is my Home it is where I Live, will someone give Ilya attention he's very hungry, Troy has So Many Feelings, Kip is in his hot husband era and nothing can bother him, Kyle is fucking hot and we should say it, Tags will be added at author's unhinged discretion

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2022-09-13 Words: 4,430 Chapters: 1/1

Twitter Trends and Ex-Boyfriends

Summary

“Did you see this?” Ilya passed his phone to Shane, who frowned in confusion. “You are the leading theory.”

“The leading theory for what?” he still frowned, trying to read the excerpt of Adrian's book as fast as possible. Ilya could tell the moment that he got excited, an inability to resist such juicy gossip. “Wait, Adrian Dela Cruz dated someone in the NHL?”

Notes

Pucked and Powered Up: More steamy details from Adrian Dela Cruz’s memoir

If we weren’t obsessed with Adrian Dela Cruz already, his upcoming memoir is promising to make us lifelong devotees. With every passage that’s released from media previews, we learn more about his pain as a hero for so many: on the screen and back home, where he remained closeted to even his closest friends and family.

With the latest reveal, he confessed that this didn’t mean he was alone. From his upcoming memoir, ( preorder here ), he says this:

Then there was my hockey player. We can call him Luke. It was a strange moment, watching him come out for all the NHL to see. I remembered all the days we spent behind locked doors. All the days I spent not even daring to wonder out loud if we could ever come out. I thought I knew the answer, and I didn’t want to risk the rejection. But seeing Luke come out—it did my heart good, after everything. I’ll never know if I made a difference for him, but I hope I did. I hope I made a difference for anyone at all. 

Phew. If you’re wondering who ‘Luke’ is, you aren’t alone. With the emergence of a core group of hockey superstars coming out in the last few years, both queer and straight fans of both superheroes and the NHL have been trying to piece together who exactly it could be ever since Adrian dropped the excerpt on Twitter, his name steadily trending for days. We welcome your thoughts!

–

“Did you see this?” Ilya passed his phone to Shane, who frowned. “You are the leading theory.”

“The leading theory for what?” he still frowned, trying to read as fast as possible. Ilya could tell the moment that he got excited, an inability to resist such juicy gossip. “Wait, Adrian Dela Cruz dated someone in the NHL?”

“Apparently,” Ilya said. “Someone who came out.”

“I mean…” Shane chewed his lip. “I mean, it’s gotta be–” he frowned “What’s the timeline on this?”

Ilya shrugged. It was vague, for sure. Plus the book wasn’t out yet.

“Why does everyone think it’s me?” Shane asked, a cute little furrow in his brow. He looked every bit the part of the good boy that people ate up, that people wanted for their beloved superhero. But he was his. He was Ilya’s. 

“They think Rose Landry was a–” he tried to remember what he’d heard one commenter call it. “A beard? Does that make sense?”

“Oh, Jesus,” Shane murmured. “Like I was really dating him since they know each other?”

“Yes.” Ilya smiled slowly. “And yet…”

Shane slid his eyes to Ilya in warning. “We were definitely not dating then.”

Ilya waved him away. Details. Semantics. The rings they wore signaled forever; when forever began was a muddier line than they liked to admit, Ilya thought. 

Shane was flicking through comments like a man possessed. Ilya wanted his phone back. “Fuck, do you think it was Scott?” 

Ilya’s eyes lit up. 

–

Scott Hunter was trying very hard to understand how he felt about this. On one hand, he’d been following Adrian Dela Cruz’s story just as much as anyone else. While Scott was really only super-famous in hockey and some queer circles, Adrian was…I mean. He had millions and millions of followers on Instagram, hundreds of thousands of likes for a caption-less photo of his dog. Or a grainy sunset. That kind of famous. Scott couldn’t really imagine the pressure of coming out with that level of fame.

But when he compared it to someone Scott probably knew? No, actually, someone he definitely knew. He knew everyone who’d come out, anyone that Adrian was talking about. For Adrian to make the case that his fear of coming out was similar to the fear that he or his friends or Rozanov had faced made Scott pause.

It also made Kip very interested.

“Was it you?” he asked, looking far more excited than he should be. 

“No!” Scott answered, and tried not to be hurt that Kip looked…disappointed. “Why are you sad about that?”

“Because he’s hot! You’d be hot together!” Kip answered. “Plus, being able to say my husband fucked a superhero? It’d be a win for both of us.”

“Oh, is it not enough that your husband is going to win another Stanley Cup this season?” 

Kip faked a yawn. “Been there, done th–” he was cut off by Scott picking him up with a growl, making Kip laugh. But when he was placed on the bed, when Scott crawled on top of him, Kip held his face in his hands. “You know you’re always enough, right?”

Scott leaned into Kip’s hands. “I know.”

“Even if you lose every single game. Okay?”

Scott made a face. He didn’t want to think about that. He wanted to think about winning.

“I know.” Kip kissed the tip of his nose, all scrunched up. “But it’s true.” He let Scott dip his head down and start kissing his neck, pulling down the V of his t-shirt to gain access to more of his chest. Scott knew he’d take it off soon, but for now it was enough just to kiss what he could get. “Who do you think it is, though?”

“Hm?” 

“Who Adrian was with. Who do you think?”

Scott was a little distracted by the feel of Kip’s body under his, responsive and excited. He was more than a little distracted. “I dunno.” He didn’t want to afford many people a thought right now. 

Kip gasped a little excitedly. “It’s not Ryan Price, is it?” 

Scott lifted his face up to give him a look.

–

Ryan was really trying to understand what intricate ritual was happening at Bargain Brunch. All he was getting was confusion.

He had gladly welcomed the refreshing face mask that Fabian smeared onto his face, watching him do the same before passing the jar to Vanessa, Marcus, and Tarek. He’d listened to them talk about how much more they liked the jar masks, better for the environment, too, they were sure, even though the face masks were better for germs, huh, I guess so, and–

He’d zoned out a little bit, honestly. He’d been content, feeling Fabian’s soft hand on his leg. 

Now, though, they were all in silence as the new Beyonce album played. Ryan loved Beyonce as much as the next person, and specifically loved her as much as the next gay person, but this was almost religious, the way this group was listening to it. He’d listened to every album and been to more than one of her shows, but never treated her music as the mystical sort of experience that the rest of the group seemed to be having. It was just over an hour when the album stopped, and by that point, Ryan had eaten two very good waffles and had gotten Fabian to take bites of another one as he closed his eyes and listened. 

“God, I could come right now,” Vanessa murmured when it stopped. Thus opened the floodgates, as they all started talking at once, mentioning favorite bits and requesting songs they wanted to replay. Ryan smiled, nodding encouragingly when Fabian sang a little bit from memory to request a song–god, he was beautiful. 

The song he requested came on, and Fabian climbed into Ryan’s lap, like he needed to be held to fully enjoy the music. Ryan kissed his neck, which made Fabian turn and kiss his lips, and oh, wow, maybe those mimosas were a little strong because his veins are fizzy and Fabian’s sighing into his mouth and–

“Gorgeous,” Marcus said, and then sighed loudly when Ryan and Fabian remembered they were in company. “Honestly, it pisses me off that apparently everyone else in the world can snag a huge, gorgeous hockey boyfriend except for me.”

Tarek laughed around his waffle. “Seriously!”

Vanessa rolled her eyes, “Oh, here we go.”

“What’s happening?” Ryan asked, somehow more confused than he ever was. 

Fabian reached for Ryan’s hands, pulling them into his and playing with his fingers. “Yeah, I thought I was special. Who are you talking about?”

“Adrian Dela Cruz,” Marcus said, like they should know what he was talking about right away. “Seriously? Oh my god. Tarek, help.” He looked at his friend with desperation. 

“You’re really gonna let Tarek talk about Adrian Dela Cruz? Without a time limit?” Fabian teased. “At least let me make out with my boyfriend. It’ll be hours.”

Tarek narrowed his eyes. “Listen. Yes, Adrian is currently playing a character that I grew up obsessed with. Yes, his take on said character is intrinsically sound and full of fidelity to the canon source. And, yes, the canon source are comic books that were very important to my…development.”

“So many ripped abs in comic books. You were helpless to your desires,” Vanessa shook her head in mock pity as Fabian laughed.

Tarek huffed. “This is all important so you understand how exciting it is that the actor playing him is gay! This is huge for me!”

“God, I bet he’s huge,” Marcus murmured. 

Tarek ignored him. “Anyway, he’s writing a memoir and it was just revealed that he dated a closeted NHL player who’s since come out.” Both Ryan and Fabian blinked, and Tarek had to laugh. “You really didn’t hear about this?”

Fabian clicked his tongue. “Do I look like someone who watches action movies?”

“Hey, the fandom is changing…”

“And Ryan doesn’t really–” he hesitated before nudging Ryan. He’d been careful about this recently, even if Ryan didn’t mind it. Fabian knew he was quiet and didn’t want to speak over him.

Ryan picked it up. “I don’t keep up with hockey news,” he finished simply. 

“You’re both very interesting to me,” Tarek said, to nods from Fabian’s friends. Fabian just rolled his eyes, and Ryan held him tighter. “Anyway, Ryan, no guesses? You know all the people who have come out, right?”

Fabian looked up at him before Ryan shrugged. “I guess. It’s mostly the camp.” He was thinking through the ones it couldn’t be–man, he’d caught Ilya and Shane ages ago, it couldn’t have been them. And the rest…yeah, he didn’t know.

“You know who would be a wild card?” Fabian said, reaching for his phone. “If it was Eric Bennett.” He slid his phone to his friends, a more recent picture of Eric, free from his hockey gear, when they’d briefly visited New York. 

“Jesus,” Vanessa murmured at the sight of him. “I don’t know shit about him, but I want this to be true.” And Ryan knew if they looked up a Wikipedia page for him, the fun would be over with the reveal of his marriage, but it was fun for the time being.

–

“This is insulting,” Kyle said, scrolling through the comments. “I’m so fucking mad.”

“Maybe stop reading the comments then,” Kip suggested.

“Hey, Kip, maybe you try teaching your boyfriend all he knows about how to please a man and then have a corner of the internet say that it was actually a mega-famous super-hunk who did all the hard work,” Kyle shot back. 

He could tell Kip was hiding a smile as he dried glasses next to him. “See, I really wanted it to be Scott. I think it’d be hot.”

“I just…” Kyle sighed, finally putting his phone away. “It sucks. The people who think it’s Eric aren’t just saying he’s been involved with another man, but they’re saying he cheated on his wife. And he didn’t.” 

Kip set down the glass, listening calmly. 

“He’s too good for that,” Kyle asserted. He was a pretty calm guy; being in hospitality, he needed to have a lot of patience for unreasonable people. But he had limits. And those limits were people he cared about being dragged down and torn apart. He could get real mad when those limits were crossed. Besides, Eric had been doing such intense work with that new therapist he’d gotten. He didn’t want to see Eric start punishing and limiting himself again just because the internet had a new game called Guess-the-Hockey-Gay. “It doesn’t even sound like him anyway.”

“The excerpt?” Kip asked.

“Yeah.” Kyle read down the passage again. “If it was Eric–god help me for saying this–but if it was Eric, his age would’ve been mentioned. This guy, whoever he is…he’s younger. Has to be around Adrian’s age.”

“Mm.” Kip worried his lip between his teeth. “You’re in with a few of them, right?”

Kyle half-shrugged. “Roz is cool, but it’s not like we’re sending little updates of our days.”

“Roz is not cool, but I love your kindness.” Kip scoffed. “God, you call him Roz.” 

Kyle was about to argue when he thought of the last time Ottawa was in town and a bunch had come through. When– “Holy shit.”

“What?”

His eyes went wide. The passage from Adrian’s book was short and vague, but Kyle knew enough. Ilya had very happily told him once that he and Shane had been involved for much longer than people thought, and Kyle had no reason to doubt him. Beyond them, there was only one person it could be. A thoughtful boy who was far too pretty to be as awkward as he’d been when he shyly asked Kyle for an old pin from Pride. 

“I know who it is.”

“Know who what is?” Eric’s voice came from behind him, and Kyle was helpless to the easy smile that spread on his face when his arms came to wrap around him. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Kyle said, turning to press a quick kiss onto Eric’s jaw. “We’re talking about Adrian Dela Cruz.”

“Why?” he asked. He smiled. “Hi Kip.”

“Hi,” he smiled back. “Kyle, who is it?”

But Kyle had no interest in doing anything right then but sinking into the warmth of Eric Bennett’s arms. He didn’t care how obvious it was either.

Kip, however, was persistent when he wanted to be. “Kyle! Focus!”

Kyle slowly smiled. “Oh, how the tables have turned,” he purred. “Kip Grady yelling at me to focus when there’s a big strong man in the bar giving me attention.” Eric’s laughter rumbled against Kyle’s back. And maybe it was a little mean, given that Scott was on the road this week, but Kip could handle it. Plus, Kyle had earned it, all those times that Kip got distracted with Scott.

For which he was rewarded when Kip tilted his head, their secret signal for get lost with your man, you’ve got fifteen minutes. 

–

Troy sipped his coffee in silence, trying to get his brain to work enough to name whatever it was that he was feeling. Harris, for his part, sat next to him, trying so hard to ignore the call of his phone and social media’s chaos that he ended up being distracting.

“How bad is it?” Troy finally asked.

“It’s not…bad,” Harris said. “It’s just loud.”

Troy grunted and drank the last drop from his mug. There was no hot beverage to hide behind now, and he rubbed over his face to get some clarity. He found none. He’d read the passage in a sort of stupor that was not even close to fading. 

It was shockingly self-centered, even for Adrian. To wonder if he had come out because of some bravery he’d found in their relationship was laughable; all Troy had found after that heartbreak was a lower sense of self and some pretty major trust issues. If Adrian was hopeful he made a difference, sure. But that difference wasn’t inspiration. 

It was a whole lotta pain. 

Harris Drover’s hand was soft, though. It was soft and warm and comforting, and Troy let himself lean into the touch to his shoulder, lean in all the way until he was almost embarrassingly curled up next to his boyfriend. But he wasn’t embarrassed. He was safe. He was touched so nicely and sweetly, with Harris pressing soft kisses into his forehead. 

Troy fought against the wave of I-don’t-deserve-this, which he was trying to relearn as I-really-needed-that-thank-you, with varying degrees of success depending on the day. Today, he was determined to make it a good day. To accept Harris’ love, pressed into his heart through kisses and soft touches. And probably a good walk with the dogs later. 

“Sorry for being weird about my ex,” Troy murmured into Harris’ chest.

Harris huffs. “Please. You can feel whatever you need to. This sucks.” He let silence sit for a while, which Troy knew was no easy feat for him. But he appreciated it nonetheless. “How…are you feeling, though?”

Troy groaned into Harris again. He groaned for a very long time. 

“Like that, huh?” Harris asked.

“Yeah, does that answer your question?” Troy lifted his face, warmed by the sight of Harris smiling at him. 

“Not really.”

Troy sat up and ran his hands over his face. “I’m pissed. Like…really fucking pissed. I came out because I wanted to. Because I was sick of letting assholes decide how I act and what I say. I wanted to live my life for me, and coming out was one way to do it. Also because I like holding your hand in public.” Harris pressed his mouth on Troy’s shoulder. He kept going, “And where the fuck does he get off, pretending like he inspired me by coming out? He knows he cheated. Like he cheated on me! A lot! I don’t even know how much! But it’s not like he’s making that clear at all. No, once again, he’s just…the hero in his own story. And I am—“

Troy laughed bitterly as he came to the end of his ramble.

He sighed, “And I barely get three sentences.”

Harris blinked, making sure he was finished. 

Troy decided to help him out. “Sorry. I’m done now.”

Harris exhaled slowly and then shifted to look Troy in the eyes. “Troy, I need you to know that your rare, emotionally charged monologues—“

“They’re stress rambles—“

“Whatever they are!” Harris cupped his face in his hands to make sure he was listening. “Whatever they are, they’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Troy’s shoulders hunched, his face blushing. “Stop…”

“Absolutely not,” Harris said, wrapping his arms around Troy’s neck. “Tell me about your feelings more, fuck, my body is ready.”

Troy laughed as he buried his face in Harris’ neck. “That guy fucking sucks. That’s all.”

“Yes, he really does.” Harris pressed kisses to his cheek, to his jaw. They were unhurried. Sweet as anything Harris did. “What’s gonna help? What can I do?”

Troy sighed. “Nothing to do. Just let it blow over, right? It should eventually.”

Harris hummed. “As a professional social media manager, who has worked through the great Hayden-Pike-FanMail-Scandal, I can confidently say this will blow over.” 

Just what Troy wanted to hear. “Good,” he said. He could be patient. Especially with Harris holding him like this. “If it’s okay with you, I’d rather not talk about him more today.”

“Happily,” Harris made his kisses start to trail down Troy’s neck. “Any man who wouldn’t freely go down on you after you did is definitely not welcome in our off-day conversations.”

“You really haven’t let go of that.”

“It offends me,” Harris murmured against him, making Troy laugh softly. “It’s unnatural.”

“It’s unnatural? To—“

“You have never sucked your dick,” Harris sighed. “Trust me on this. It’s unnatural to not want to.”

Troy squirmed on the couch. “Kinda sounds like you wanna suck my dick.”

“Yeah, little bit. Think you can squeeze me in? Mr. Scandal of the week?”

Troy furrowed his brow, thinking of the trouble he’d had—between Kent, Crowell, and now Adrian. “I really don’t try to be in the drama, you know.”

“I know,” Harris said, so earnest that Troy nodded. Harris followed it up with a smirk, sliding to his knees. “But, I gotta admit: It’s also job security. Which is pretty sexy.” 

–

In the end, the onslaught of comments directed at Ottawa’s social media was too much to ignore. Somewhere along the way, the math had been done to show that–most likely–it was someone on that team. There were simply too many queer members on there. 

It just remained who, and that was fiercely debated under every post of Shane, Ilya, or Troy. 

“It is very annoying to me that I am not considered more,” Ilya said. 

“You were photographed with too many women,” Shane pointed out.

“You were photographed with one and she is part of the conversation!” Ilya crossed his arms, and seemed shockingly close to pouting. “Bullshit.”

Shane pat his head in a way only Shane Hollander could do to Ilya Rozanov. “I believe you could’ve fucked a superhero.”

“Maybe, if my own hockey player was not so demanding of my free time.” He met Shane’s half-glare with his own grin. Then he turned to Harris. “How is Troy doing?” 

Harris did not want to answer for Troy. The truth was that Troy had been very quiet, and when he did speak up, it was often close to the way he rambled when stressed. While he’d been doing all right, stealing moments of encouragement from Harris when he seemed more confident, Harris still saw his smile less and less since Adrian had been trending on Twitter. “He’s…” he hesitated. “I don’t know, honestly. You talked with him last night, right?” He heard Troy on the phone when he’d been working on some graphics, sometimes catching the edge of Ilya’s accent when the speaker phone was just loud and close enough for Harris to catch some details. It’d been good; Harris was happy that Troy reached out to Ilya in between reaching out for his mom.

Ilya nodded seriously. “He will be okay. We will walk the dogs,” he said, rising to stand. “Do not worry. It will pass. Right, Hollander?” It was very plain and to-the-point, but Harris appreciated it. And he knew Troy would appreciate something else to do besides sit around and think about Adrian. Shane nodded, his quieter demeanor more than welcome during a stressful time. 

“Thanks,” Harris smiled.

“And you will do the thing? To answer?” Ilya asked, already heading out.

Harris smiled even deeper. “Oh, yeah. He’s coming over now.”

–

Wyatt Hayes was surrounded by piles of comics and even more boxes filled with them. His shirt was unbuttoned so his chest was visible, and even though his wedding ring was clearly visible, he played to the camera. He was, as all the comments gladly celebrated, being very sexy.

“Now, this one…this is a very special appearance,” Wyatt almost purred as he flipped through the comic book. “It’s the very first time he shows off his super strength.” He lifted his eyes. “Really hoping to see this character soon on the big screen. Or the silver screen.”

He flipped through more before something seemed to occur to him, even though it was heavily scripted. “Adrian Dela Cruz’s character is here, too…quite the opposition with this villain.” He smirked, tipping his head back. “Anyway. Any hockey and superhero connections can go through yours truly from now on.” He winked.

–

“I know. I kn–yes. I promise,” Troy was saying to his mom over the phone. “I promise, yes. Okay.” Then he laughed, for real, a sound that made Harris’ heart flip still. “I love you, too. I’ll see you in a few weeks.” 

Harris leaned back on the couch and watched for Troy, who came in with a soft smile on his face. “What were you promising?”

Troy made a face before flopping on the couch, letting Harris pull him down so his pretty face was in his lap. It never really did get old. “That I’d take you on a date this weekend. A real one.”

Harris beamed. “I love your mom. Have I said that this week?”

“A couple times, yeah,” Troy reached for Harris’ hands, placing them on his face, his perfect skin soft under his fingertips. “I love you, you know.”

Sometimes Harris wanted to bottle him up, bottle up those moments and have them forever like this. Troy Barrett telling him he loves him, gazing up in his lap, beautiful and handsome and relaxed. Harris tried to commit it to memory before stroking his cheek bones and murmuring, “I love you, too, you know.”

Troy’s eyes began to drift closed, and Harris’ hands went to play with his hair, something he found that Troy just adored if he let himself be relaxed enough to accept it. Harris was almost sorry to break the moment, but he figured it would be worth it.

“Have you been following the latest Adrian tweets, by the way?” he asked.

Troy opened one eye in suspicion. “Why?”

“Well,” Harris said slowly, continuing to pet through his hair. “His book is out now. The first reviews are out.” And Troy, bless his heart, just continued looking at him. “You know that I wish no ill will towards anyone but I have to say…”

“Are the reviews bad?” Troy finally asked, the tiniest grin stretching on his face.

Harris cleared his throat. “I believe the phrase I most liked was a parade of bloated self-importance wearing queer liberation like a cheap Halloween costume.” Harris had read that one about seven times straight to make sure he memorized the wording right.

Troy sputtered. “Holy shit.” He started laughing, that real one that Harris so loved, “Holy shit.”

Harris nudged him. “I think Adrian’s ego is gonna be the next gossip machine, Mr. Scandal. You’re good to go. Social media back to normal.” Because after the time they’d had, with Adrian taking up way too much space in the comments, Harris was ready to let Troy get back to being an athlete, full-stop, no discussion of his exes, whoever they may be. He deserved to simply go back to being the prettiest hockey player Harris ever did see. And Harris was, like, the expert on how pretty hockey players could be. 

Although.

“I do need to give the people what they want with more Wyatt this week,” Harris admitted.

Troy pulled him down to kiss him. “My ex is being made fun of and you’re telling me you won’t make me sit for extra social media posts?” he asked, his tone teasing. “This is the best news I’ve heard in a long time.”