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  1. Take that, Scott Hunter by

    Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
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    2026-01-09

    No one ever thought that anyone in the NHL would top Scott Hunter's epic coming out, Scott included. He watches in real time as he's ousted as reigning NHL queer icon. Naturally, it had to be Rozanov to do it. Or: An alternative ending to the plane crash that wasn't in the Long Game. Scott Hunter January 2021 He’s very comfortable on the couch, enjoying a rare night off. Kip had cooked that night and he had halfheartedly tried to follow along. His husband was definitely a better cook then he. It never ceased to amaze him, Kip was his husband. He was publicly out, married to the love of his life, and still a high ranking professional hockey player. Sure, his endorsements had suffered a brief nose dive, but he was almost back to where he had been with other new, more exciting endorsements. “Movie?” Kip had his head pillowed on his lap, idly scrolling through the channels. It was only 7pm. Kip had teased him about being old but hadn’t protested getting comfortable on the couch after dinner. It was a Tuesday after all. Kip had work in the morning, and he had an early practice. “What about that tv show you wanted to start?” He questioned, fingers playing with his husband’s very soft hair. They used the same shampoo and conditioner but his hair was never as soft and silky. “Mhmm, let me see,” He started clicking around at a dizzying pace, “Oh, look, it’s your new best friend,” Kip teased as he stopped at a station broadcasting the Ottawa Centaurs landing on Canadian soil after their near deadly incident in Florida a few days prior. He had begrudgingly texted Rozanov, captain to captain, to express his “sincere” relief that they were all okay. It was mostly sincere. He hated the guy but he hardly wanted him dead. Kip had laughed as he spent thirty minutes debating what to text. “Surprised they flew back,” He admitted. He would have definitely reconsidered flying after that close of a call. The news had broadcasted their harrowing descent into Tampa a few days ago. One engine was literally engulfed in flames, and the landing had been very bumpy. Slides had even deployed to get the players off quickly. No one was seriously injured luckily. “Florida to Ottawa is a very long bus drive,” Kip hummed, “Aww, those are some cute kids,” The camera was showing the WAGS and kids, all present with signs and such, cheering for their safe return. One of the players had adorable twins with blonde pigtails and impossibly small Centaur jerseys. He couldn’t make out the name on the back though. “Yeah they are,” They had had the kid talk, and were on the same page. Kip wanted to be more established in his field, and by the time that happened, he would probably be retiring. There would be no toddler in a small Hunter jersey at any game. He knew it was the best path though. He wanted to be present in raising his kid. There was no way to do that while maintaining his career though, not without Kip sacrificing his. He watched in real time as the plane landed safely on the tarmac. Kip halfheartedly clapped at they touched down with zero issue. Everyone on the ground was cheering as well. The reporter was detailing the touch down. It was very overdone in his opinion. All of the players were eager in exiting the plane, their looks of relief visible. Rozanov stepped off of the plane towards the end. The camera was following him despite the many other happy reunions going on around them. Children and wives were sobbing but there was more to be seen. He was easily spotted with his cocksure grin and golden curls. It was subdued though, a word he never thought he would use to describe the brash Russian. He stepped off of the plane looking looking a bit more morose then usual. The ordeal had aged him. He wondered who Rozanov had waiting for him. The guy had no family in America or Canada as far as he knew. A model girlfriend perhaps? The guy had been quiet in the media since being traded to Ottawa. He almost felt bad. “Oh my god” He heard Kip murmur as the camera stuck to Rozanov, to the giant Russian freezing as a smaller form collided with him. He watched on live TV as a distinctly male form crashed into Rozanov, limbs all a tangle with the Russian captain. He watched as Rozanov embraced the form, clinging to dear life as if nothing else matted. He sat stunned, watching it play out with the rest of the world. Ilya Rozanov was embracing someone distinctly male on the tarmac in Ottawa. Rozanov was openly weeping into the man’s neck. The other guys fingers were so tightly wound in Rozanov’s curls that it had to hurt. Ilya Rozanov was making out with another man on live TV. The camera had clearly caught wind of what they were seeing, and had zoomed in. The reporter seemed baffled, reporting in a very confused tone that Ilya Rozanov was kissing a man. Rozanov’s mystery man wore a

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