Chapter Text
Scott likes to think he's good at putting things together. He prides himself on being able to read people. It comes with hiding things about yourself, when you don't want someone to figure you out you have to figure them out first. He knows which guys are having relationship problems and who got a little too drunk last night. His teammates are the easiest to read, being around them almost 24/7 on road trips means he's become accustomed to their habits and tells. He knows about Eric Bennett’s habit of talking to his goal posts, and how Matti Jallo pretends to be a big rough guy but likes to watch the notebook on long flights. All in all, Scott thinks he can tell when someone is hiding something.
Which is why he’s so shocked standing in a empty alleyway behind a gay bar with Ilya fucking Rozanov.
The night started with the MVP awards which he had won, not to toot his own horn or anything but it had been expected. Winning the Stanley cup and publicly coming out as gay in one fell swoop tends to get you a lot of attention. A local gay bar had contacted him a few days ago to inform him of the themed ‘Scott Hunter’ night they would be having and Scott said in his acceptance speech that anyone who wanted to could come celebrate with him were invited. It had mostly been to get some publicity on the place as a thank you. He hadn’t expected any of the other players or people attending the awards to come besides his own friends. So he was now in a rainbow decorated club drinking a cocktail and holding Kip close. Eric was off to his side awkwardly swaying, his eyes trailed over the room and Scott kindly wasn’t going to comment on the fact he seemed to be checking out some of the men. Eric had just gotten divorced, if he wanted to explore himself that was none of Scott's business. Carter was dancing with Gloria eagerly displaying that he was dating a woman, and Matti had gone to the bar awhile ago to grab a beer.
He and Kip held each other close, Scott was just revealing in being able to dance with his boyfriend without worrying about anyone seeing. If anything he wanted them to see now. See what a catch he found. Kip kissed his jaw lightly and Scott was completely focused on him. He downed his cocktail and put the empty glass on a table next to them before putting his hands on Kip's hips. He let his hands roam over Kip's body, exploring the perfect muscle tone under the fabric of clothes.
He had only looked up for a second feeling like he was being watched (which was saying something because everyone in the club was sneaking glances at them all night.) When he did his eyes went directly to the opposite wall where a man stood towering over most of the room, he stared at Scott and Kip without shame not breaking the eye contact Scott had initiated. And Scott was pretty sure there was no way that was who he thought it was… but the hair and build and Russian orthodox cross hanging on his chest between the open buttons of a very fancy silk shirt were too familiar to ignore. Ilya Rozanov was here, in a gay bar, not looking out of place.
“I think I see someone from hockey I need to go talk to, be right back.” He whispered in Kip's ear and kissed his cheek.
”Alright, have fun.” Kip kissed him on the lips quickly before letting Scott go.
He quickly weaved through the crowd to where he could still see Rozanov standing, he was drinking a clear beverage Scott was pretty sure was vodka. People around Scott clapped him on the back and congratulated him as he passed. It took longer than he would have liked to get to where Rozanov was leaning on the artistically graffitied wall.
“Rozanov?” Scott asked when within a distance where he’d be heard. He wasn’t going to be positive he wasn't being pranked until he heard the Russian accent he knew so well from mocking chirps on the ice. “What are you doing here?” He watched as Rozanov's eyes danced over his face in a way Scott interpreted as him trying to figure out what to tell him. Scott was just confused. Out of every person who had been at the MVP awards Rozanov was one of the least likely to show his face at a gay bar. Or was he? Russia was definitely not safe for queer people, they thought being gay was a crime worthy of the death penalty, Scott assumed Rozanov would have some of those ideals as well. But here he was, in a see through silk shirt and some very tight pants and… he had eyeliner on. He looked like he belonged here more than Scott did. Scott couldn’t get a read on him at all, he didn’t let his eyes linger anywhere besides Scott’s own and he leisurely took sips of vodka without flinching.
“Wanted to see what the hype was about. Scott Hunter night, not a very interesting theme no? Old man night is basically same theme.” And there was the accent he knew, chirping just the same as he would on the ice. There wasn’t any malice so Scott laughed along as Rozanov smirked at his own joke. There was absolutely no way that was the real reason one of the most famous players in hockey was here so Scott was still searching for tells that weren’t there.
“Alright Rozanov, keep your secrets, you definitely aren’t in a gay bar in Vegas just to make fun of me though.” He watched as Rozanov ran a hand though his hair in the first sign of anxiety Scott had seen from him this entire conversation.
“Da, I am not… would you like to talk somewhere umm…” Rozanov suddenly seemed less sure of himself, he looked around at the crowd and gestured towards a door off to the side that had a blinking neon sign above it that said exit. Scott could guess what Rozanov was trying to ask.
”Less public?” Scott filled in the blank and watched Rozanov nod. Why Rozanov wanted to talk privately he wasn’t sure. He just hoped it wasn’t to kill him or something, though Rozanov did look a little nervous instead of murderous. Scott found Kip from across the room and waved before pointing at the exit. If he was getting murdered it would be good for Kip to know where he was. They wandered out to the alley together, it was cold and Rozanov leaned against the wall and pulled out a cigarette - gross. Scott didn’t get to share his distaste before Rozanov started talking.
“What you did…” Here we go… what could Rozanov want to say about Scott coming out. Nothing good likely. He wasn't looking at Scott and he stared at the Russians profile trying to find any tell about what he was about to say. “It will be good for…others…” Not what Scott had expected but a welcome thing, if Rozanov wanted him to know he wasn’t homophobic that was good. Then he continued, “-fuck-“ Scott had no clue what the next words would be. “…for me.” It was a whisper and Scott felt his heart stop for a second.
All of the air was knocked out of him.
Because this was a confession. A big one. Something that Scott himself had kept a secret his entire life, and he lived somewhere sort of safe. Much safer than Russia at least. He wasn’t expecting that. He didn’t know what to say. Ilya Rozanov had admitted he was queer to him and he was blowing air out and watching it fog because what else could he do. Rozanov queer. Shit. There weren’t words to explain how the confession felt. It was huge, filling the space between them even when it could barely be heard over the honking of traffic.
Then he thought about it for a second and things about Rozanov started clicking. The way he winked at men and women evenly, how he often was heard of beating up people who said homophobic things on the ice…the room numbers shared with SHANE HOLLANDER. Not Scott's circus and not his monkeys. If that's what was really going on he wouldn’t mess with it.
“Huh…” He said and he should be saying something different but the words run too fast through his head. Then he tries again, “You know…You’re the first person to tell me it in person. I’ve gotten emails, phone calls… Lots of thank yous. No outright confessions. I’m sorry this isn’t the right reaction- fuck- I’m glad you feel comfortable telling me. What I did… I couldn’t keep hiding the man I loved. It just so happens that that's a bigger deal than it should be. Not exactly brave.” It's a ramble but Scott tries very hard to be supportive of this huge thing Rozanov confided in him. He watches Rozanov carefully cataloging the nod as hopefully meaning what he said was good.
Rozanov blows out smoke from the cigarette and laughs like he's being forced to. “I think it was brave. I am not brave like you. I am brave on ice. This?” He shook his head. “This is different.” They made eye contact for the first time since they stepped outside. And Scott can feel the weight of thankfulness and the same pain of hiding he had carried for so long. “So… I am glad you did it. That is all.” Rozanov kept eye contact, letting the words settle in before Scott watches the vulnerable look be covered with a cocky smirk while he adds, “Also, if you ever tell anyone before I am ready, I will deny it and say you are obsessed with me.”
Scott would never, he lets the moment pass and laughs at Rozanov, hitting him on the arm, before saying as much. “I would never.”
This conversation had been strangely lovely, it felt like Scott had done something that could monumentally change how people like Rozanov were able to exist in hockey. But… something nagged at him. He couldn’t let it go… he had to know if the thing with Hollander was serious, because hookups in rookie year, that would be fine, a relationship? That would be harder than he could imagine. He had to find a way to bring it up casually
“Okay last question before we go back inside and I introduce you to my boyfriend. How’s Hollander?” Rozanov tenses, and Scott immediately backtracks, of course, he wasn’t supposed to know about that. “Hey, hey, I’m not implying anything but, you are close… and when he was hurt I know you probably went to see him after. Professionally…because you’re the captain. Very normal.” He was cryptic, hoping Rozanov might be able to trust him just a little more.
“Shane is fine… I go to his cottage for summer. If this gets out I will actually kill you.” So…relationship. That would make sense, they always did have a little more heat in those face offs then the normal amount. Scott puts his hands up defensively but smiles, because even though it would be hard, having someone you love will always make being hidden easier. And maybe even lead to not having to hide anymore. Having Kip sure made his life better. Having Hollander might make Rozanov's life better.
“Good, having a… friend makes this whole thing easier.”
Rozanov sighs heavily and the air is a plume of white in the winter weather. “Yes…friend, alright lets go talk to your boyfriend. I need tips on how to make smoothies.” He chirps lighthearted. And Scott can see how he stops tenseing slightly at the thoughts of Shane. He hopes they can figure it out, he and Kip did. They would too.