81 – 100 of 119 Works in Scott Hunter & Ilya Rozanov
- Scott Hunter & Ilya Rozanov ×
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A reporter in the front row raised his hand, then stood without being called on. His voice shook just a little when he spoke, but his eyes were shining, and his face flushed with excitement.
“Scott - are you aware of the online speculation about your sexuality? About you being gay?”
Or:
Ilya Rozanov helps Scott Hunter escape a post-game press conference that went wrong because of Reddit.- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,983
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #78906611
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Scott doesn’t know what to make of Rozanov still. He’d appreciated him showing up at that bar in Vegas, had curiously watchedhim dance with men with all the air of someone who knew what he was doing, had shaken off the weirdness of watching Ilya Rozanov in a gay bar in Vegas pull another man in by the belt loops and ghost a breath over his ear. He thinks Rozanov went home alone that night. He’s not sure. He doesn’t know which answer would surprise him more.
* * *
the one where Scott finds out
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,922
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #78717116
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Reaching out to Ryan was a good thing to do. He should have been there as his captain before, the least he can do is bring Scott as a backup captain now.
- Part 5 of Ilya's Big Gay Bromance
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,130
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #78532241
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In a world where editing mistakes never occurred and Scott met Kip in 2016, Scott is fully aware that he's not the only gay man in the MLH, and he's been following Hollander and Rozanov's relationship with no small amount of happiness for them. So when he faces a miserable Rozanov and figures Hollander has left him for an actress, he has some thoughts about it.
Or, in which Scott Hunter is Not Mad, Just Disappointed, and is 100% not projecting, but also these kids need to be stopped before they ruin something beautiful.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,552
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #78460631
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Extending an olive branch by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-27
What if we got an inside look at what exactly Scott and Ilya’s “brief” conversation before the cottage looked like?
And what Svetlana thinks…
- Part 1 of Hollanov and Scott Hunter
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,676
- Chapters:
- 3/3
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76889566
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Ilya Rozanov. One of the star players of the NHL, nearly a decade into his career. Center for the Boston Bears, a brutal, fast player known for womanizers tendencies and his bragging habits.
Kip had learned a lot about hockey in the last three years, unable to swipe past anything to do with Scott’s career. Ilya Rozanov was a difficult player to mistake and it was his distinctive build that stood beside him now, glaring down at the buildings as if they’d personally offended him.
“...Hi.” Kip had to give himself credit. Even with the hesitation, the greeting was clear and strong, pushed past the tightness of his shirt on his shoulders, his collar resting against his throat.
“Hello,” said Rozanov, shifting to cross his arms and lean them against the railing. His suit was near to the navy blue Kip was wearing– a popular color, and he was doubly glad Scott had insisted on it. “Is nice out here. Cold.”
Three times that Ilya supported Scott's relationship and one time he defended his own.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 11,522
- Chapters:
- 3/4
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77538331
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You don't fuck with tradition. by Anonymous
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types
2026-01-26
“I told Kyle not to text you.”
Ilya goes to the Kingfisher when Ottawa plays New York near the end of The Long Game. He doesn't tell anyone. Scott finds him anyway.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,709
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #78330236
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Rozanov took another drag of his cigarette and glanced away from Scott, smile fading. “I have… certain reputation, yes?”
Scott nodded, partially because it was true—Ilya Rozanov was one of the most notorious men in the league—and partially because Scott was curious where he was going with this.
Rozanov ashed his cigarette and glared down at the sparks as they fell. “Is not accident. My reputation. Is for safety. Protective.” He shrugged. “Is not all untrue—I am asshole, I am proud to be asshole. But… I am maybe not quite the person you think I am.”
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Ilya Rozanov comes out to Scott Hunter at the MLH Awards
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,556
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #78205306
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Kip loves Scott, so he's willing to join him wherever he's needed, whether that's at games or social events or - god forbid - MLH-mandated youth hockey initiatives. Even if Ilya Rozanov is there. OR: Kip and Ilya meet after the on-ice kiss. An unlikely friendship ensues, along with an even more unlikely double date. OR: Scott Hunter thinks Rozanov might have found a new and unusual method of torture: making friends with his boyfriend. That alone is bad enough, but when Rozanov shows up at his door with Shane Hollander in tow, Scott is left to reckon with the frankly unfathomable fact of their secret decade-long relationship. He still thinks he's too lazy to be a serial killer, but perhaps a single premeditated murder isn't off the table.
- Part 3 of My Moon
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 8,521
- Chapters:
- 6/6
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77233221
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Not only did Boston lose against New York, but now he was wet and cold and being taken to the only gay hockey bar in the city.
- Part 3 of Ilya's Big Gay Bromance
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,298
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #78054771
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When Kip is injured in a hit-and-run, Scott Hunter arrives at the hospital to find Ilya Rozanov already there. The two form an unexpected connection after sharing a room, a long night, and dealing with the aftermath of something neither of them was prepared for.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 8,455
- Chapters:
- 3/?
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77942031
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How stupid could Ilya have been, not only to be caught, but to be caught by Scott Hunter.
inspired by chapter two of we cannot waste time (—only ourselves.) by llamallamaduck !!
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,964
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77923181
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Rozanov reaches out to Scott Hunter after the kiss
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,291
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77810576
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Getting the MVP award straight after his explosive coming out has Scott Hunter talking to lots of people that he wasn't expecting. The conversation he was least expecting was one with Ilya Rozanov.
- Part 1 of Ilya's Big Gay Bromance
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,620
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77877276
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Maybe the fact that he talked to Hunter wasn't the end of the world. Maybe he didn't have to pretend it never happened. Maybe if he was irritating enough about it Shane would drop the subject.
- Part 2 of Ilya's Big Gay Bromance
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,134
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77889531
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Live Through This (And You Won't Look Back) by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-18
Shane rolls onto his side and stares at the faint outline of the window. The darkness presses in, but it doesn’t feel as suffocating as usual.
Before he can talk himself out of it, he reaches for his phone. The screen lights up the room, too bright. His thumb hovers for a second, then he opens the thread.
Shane: I think we should tell Scott.
OR:
Scott kissing a man on live television gives Shane and Ilya the courage to do more than just spend the summer together. What starts as coming out to one person suddenly snowballs into something much bigger. It changes everything, except how much they love each other.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 49,912
- Chapters:
- 23/23
- Files:
- 5 versions
- AO3:
- #76826231
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My love for you is a molotov cocktail by ThreeCatsInA_trenchcoat
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-15
“Yes, it is Rozanov.” He bit out, pouring his rage in the receiver. “And I asked you question. Did it feel good threatening defenseless player? Did it make you feel like a big man? Like real man?” He flung out, bitterness coating the words like weapons. He hoped Hunter got poisoned. “I don’t und– Are you talking about fucking Hollander right now?” “Congratulations, Hunter, you still remember. I was worried that you would forget, in your old age. Or maybe it is because you threaten a lot of people, that you didn’t know?” Words felt so useless in that moment. He wanted real blades; things he could fling in Hunter’s face and draw blood. *** In the aftermath of his fight with Scott Hunter, Shane panics. For the first time since this whole thing started, someone knows. Ilya might not be as scared as Shane - Hunter knowing, isn't the worst surprise - but he is angry.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,797
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77707476
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The Many Titles of the Group Chat by stabthroughme
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-13
It started with Ilya having suggestions for the menu at the new and improved Kingfisher. It stopped being a reno chat real quick
- Part 7 of In The Loonie Bin (Mars' Hollanov Fics)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,018
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77590956
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I Do Not Have Wings (Love, I Never Will) by Sea_Sea9000
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-12
Ilya told Shane's family that he talked to Scott Hunter. He didn't tell them when. Scott and Ilya and the times they met up on rooftops over the years.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,167
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77528151
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Ilya Rozanov would be tempted to enact Cold War levels of biological warfare against his opponent if only Scott Hunter didn’t already look as awful as he feels. The other hockey player faces him, sending a death stare in his direction and clutching his stick in a way that would be intimidating if he weren’t Scott Fucking Hunter and if it wasn’t obvious he wasn’t trying with all his might to prevent himself from taking a nosedive onto the ice. Ilya would manage a quip if he could muster the energy to - something about how the old man should really have taken a sick day - but keeps his mouth shut, totally because he doesn’t want to kick someone when they’re obviously already down, not in any way because his own throat hurts too much to talk of course. Ilya Rozanov would be tempted to enact Cold War levels of biological warfare against his opponent if only Scott Hunter didn’t already look as awful as he feels. The other hockey player faces him, sending a death stare in his direction and clutching his stick in a way that would be intimidating if he weren’t Scott Fucking Hunter and if it wasn’t obvious he wasn’t trying with all his might to prevent himself from taking a nosedive onto the ice. Ilya would manage a quip if he could muster the energy to - something about how the old man should really have taken a sick day - but keeps his mouth shut, totally because he doesn’t want to kick someone when they’re obviously already down, not in any way because his own throat hurts too much to talk of course. Maybe this game will be easier than he thought; the Centaurs seem to be faring at least a little better than their big apple competitors, who seem to be in worse form, if that’s even possible considering how terrible Ilya feels, several of the opposing team coughing into fists or sniffling so loudly it hurts his already pounding head. Barrett has been borderline obsessive since the very start of whatever it is that has been making the rounds of the league, not wanting to risk getting Harris sick and although the team haven’t completely averted it, they are mostly at full capacity; Hayes on top form after being out for the last game, Luca at the tail end of the worst of it, and Boodram somehow managing to skate free from the cold that has been working its way through the rest of the team. In all honesty, they probably should have cancelled. The idea was toyed with this morning, or at the very least presented as a possibility to Ilya when he reluctantly fessed up at morning practice to the fact that he’d been running a fever since last night. It had been the fault of the New York Admirals that they didn’t withdraw, thanks to a stalemate sparked by the word on the street being that their opponents - and particularly their star captain - were struck down with this same flu and might pull out before they could. Neither team withdrew, as had become all too clear with just an hour before the game. I can play, Ilya insisted. And so here they are. Ilya’s stick catches the puck first, Hunter just a moment too slow after him. God, Ilya thinks. The poor guy should just give it up; he is sure good old Kip Grady will be somewhere in the crowds waiting for the end of the last period so he can wrangle his fiance into bed with a blanket and a mug of honey-lemon tea and enough nyquil to dose a horse or just a hockey player with a bad case of man-flu after the game. Although perhaps he is projecting. Someone from the other team - he doesn’t care to register who - checks him, and somewhere in the chaos Ilya ends up being the one to almost take a nosedive onto the ice, his balance off but whether from the loss of his ego or the blade flying from his skate without his knowledge he isn’t entirely sure. For a brief second - less than a second really - he stays like that, staring down at the ice on his hands and knees and contemplating walking out of the rink without so much as a glance back. He’s still considering it as he maneuvers himself off the ice to fix the aforementioned blade issue, but he shakes his head when someone - the coach or a trainer or perhaps someone on the bench - asks him if he wants to tap out. Besides, he doesn’t have his own bed and significant other waiting for him on the other side of this game like Scott Hunter does. Shane is god knows where, on the other side of the fucking country or something at some fucking gala event for one of his fucking sponsors or whatever and so Ilya will be returning to convalesce in his fucking New York hotel room alone after this fucking game, with only a fucking facetime call to tide him over if he’s lucky. This fucking game. This fucking city. This fucking cold. He chokes against the metallic taste coating the back of his mouth, somehow managing to suppress the coughing fit which has been threatening since the end of the first period. If he had to bet, he figures he has the best gag reflex in the entire league, but so much as thinking about the presence of his mouth guard at this moment clattering against his teeth has him fearing he might blow chunks on the ice if he isn't careful. He can only imagine what the commentators might say, the headlines the next morning. He hates this, he hisses as the Admirals level the score. His body not feeling right, not feeling like his own. He’s used to the satisfying hum of muscle memory, being where he needs to be a moment before he even thinks about it. He’s still moving fast, still playing like he always does for the most part, but typically by this point in the game adrenaline is making itself at home; right now, the only thing making itself at home is the fucking crud in his chest. Scott is the one who scored, and Ilya watches him celebrate in envious disbelief, the older hockey player seemingly having taken on a second wind during the intermission. Ilya should ask him for advice on whatever home remedy has seemingly worked its magic, but he has a strong suspicion it has something to do with the man’s fiance in the crowd; a likely promise of the healing properties of true love’s kiss… or true love’s sucking of a dick, he smirks. “Having trouble keeping up, Rozanov?” Scott remarks, although it doesn’t have the intended bite coming from a man who at present sounds like a dying cat. “Oh are you, Hunter?” he furrows his brow, hoping his own hoarse voice sounds at least a little more rugged and less ridiculous. They share a knowing glance. It’s anyone’s game really, with the playing field levelled like this but it is the Centaurs who just barely manage to take the win by the end, a just-missed save allowing them to take back the lead when it really mattered. Ilya doesn’t gloat, and the celebrations are quite frankly a subdued affair, most of the players on the ice already burying their red noses into tissues and in a rush to get off the rink. “Good game,” Scott reaches a hand out to shake Ilya’s, before he hesitates, figuring it’s maybe not the best course of action when he is blatantly contagious. “It wasn’t,” Ilya takes Scott’s hand, shakes it firmly, running the back of his other hand against his dripping nose with a smirk. “But get well soon, yes? Beating you will feel better if actually fair next time.” “Yeah this cold’s a killer. Sorry, I wasn’t thinking; I wouldn’t want to get you sick.” “Too late.”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,947
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77570846