Summary:

Scott watched as Hollander leaned in, further, to hear Rozanov. This was the part that didn’t entirely make sense to him. The missing piece of something that felt like it was just beyond his reach. This was quiet ease and small moments of comfort and a look that makes the rest of the world fade away. This was how he felt with Kip.

Scott stilled.

It was as if someone had whispered it in his ear. It was as if the final piece of this insane, deranged puzzle finally clicked into place. His heart was pounding in his ears. He was probably wrong. In fact he was entirely wrong. This wasn’t like him and Kip. It couldn’t be Kip. Scott had been watching too many romantic comedies. His head was in the clouds.

But they weren’t touching.

Hollander and Rozanov were as close as they could be, without laying a single finger on one another. They were specifically, rigidly, separate. The warmth between them was bridled. Entirely. And this, Scott realized, his heart sinking into the floor, was also how he had felt with Kip.

Oh. Oh fuck.

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OR: Scott Hunter figures out Shane and Ilya are together at the NHL award ceremony and tries (and fails) not to freak out about it