Chapter Text
Cliff does a quick head count. A couple of the guys fucked off to get laid, but he leads the rest out of the club like a line of very drunk ducklings. Which would make him the momma duck, in this situation, but he’s not exactly sober himself.
“Wait, did we lose Rozy?” Dubek asks blearily, squinting around Connors as if Rozanov might be hiding behind his (substantially smaller) figure.
“Lost isn’t the word I would use,” Connors says.
“Yeah, pretty sure he’s exactly where he wants to be,” St. Simon laughs, almost walking into a garbage can before Cliff grabs him by the collar and pulls him back. “Dude, did you see that blonde he was dancing with?”
Dubek frowns. “Thought Roz said she was there with her boyfriend?”
“When has that ever stopped him? He probably went home with both of them, let the boyfriend watch.”
Cliff rolls his eyes and decides not to mention the fact that Roz went back to the hotel alone. The guy’s built such a reputation over the years that nobody would believe him anyway. He shoots Roz a text when they’re in a cab, though: U good?
The response comes a few seconds later: 👍👍👍👍
Which is definitely too many thumbs to be anything close to the truth. But before he can think about it too hard, Cliff is distracted by one of his ducklings making the universally understood “pull over right the fuck now” face.
Roz will be fine. Always is.
***
Most of the team is groaning and bitching as they gather in the lobby, but Roz strolls in like he owns the place, Ray-bans and backwards hat and all. Cliff hates him a little bit.
“So, what’d you get up to last night?” Kane asks resentfully.
Roz shrugs. “Went for a walk.”
“Like hell,” Connors laughs. “He rolled in around dawn smelling like the lovechild of a distillery and a Marlboro factory.”
“Don’t know how you do it, man,” sighs Dubek.
“Do what, drink like a Russian?” He gestures at himself snarkily. “Am Russian. Ta-da. Your bloodline is weak, your ancestors should be ashamed.”
“Pretty sure he meant the chicks,” St Simon explains. “Or, like. The blonde and her boyfriend.”
Roz gives him an unimpressed look and says, “No shit.”
“You totally went home with both of them, didn’t you?” Dubek laughs.
“No,” Roz says flatly. “I went for a walk. Sat in a park, spilled my guts to a stranger on a bench like Forrest fucking Gump. Turned out to be a statue. Good listener.”
The rest of the guys laugh, but Cliff’s pretty sure he’s serious.
“Haaaaaayden!” says a tinny speakerphone voice that cannot possibly be Shane.
“Uh,” Hayden says dubiously.
“I got the flowers,” says the high, dreamy voice. “Thank you. For the flowers. I like flowers.”
Hayden covers the speaker and mouths at Jackie, “You sent flowers?” She shoots him a “duh” kinda look and he winces.
Meanwhile, Shane says slowly, “I like… lilies. Lily.”
“Yeah, sorry I couldn’t visit in person, bud. I tried to change my flight, but –”
“S’okay,” Shane says. “It’s aaaaalllll good.”
“Oh you are fucked up, huh?” Hayden says, already fishing in his pocket for bills for the swear jar.
Shane says, “Yup.” Then he giggles.
Giggles. Hayden wishes he could record this conversation.
“Well, glad you’re on the good stuff, at least,” Hayden offers. “The whole situation sucks, but –”
“It does suck,” Shane says solemnly. “I was – I had a date! Sorta. A not-date. But. It was… gonna be nice.”
“A date?” Hayden echoes. “Oh! Boston Lily? Shit, was she at the game?”
“It was – I had a big question,” Shane slurs. “Biiiiiig question. On the a-gen-da.”
“Jesus, this is amazing,” Jackie mutters, leaning on the counter, enthralled – and then she straightens up abruptly, eyes wide. “Wait, what question?”
“Dude, were you gonna propose?” Hayden asks. “I didn’t realize it was like that.”
Fuck, he should probably be more supportive, but he hasn’t even met this girl, and Shane just got back together with her after the Rose thing, and –
“Oh, god, no,” Shane laughs. “We’ve only been hooking up for like… nine years. Eight? Ugh, numbers.”
Hayden looks at Jackie, who mouths a silent, “What the fuck?”
“Also, we’re not even dating, it’s just sex,” Shane rambles, like that’s an afterthought. “Good sex, though. Really reeeeeeally crazy good sex. Wait, shit, I gotta go. Don’t tell anybody I have sex, ‘s a secret, okay? Byeeeee!”
***
Once Shane’s been cleared to fly and he makes it back to Montreal, Hayden goes to visit, but when he brings up Lily, Shane starts hyperventilating.
“What did I even – I don’t remember any of this!” he asks, wide-eyed. “What did I say?”
“Dude, I swear, it’s fine,” Hayden laughs. “I just wanted to see if I could meet this chick before you propose!”
“I’m not – we’re not – it’s not like that!” Shane stammers. “Jesus, what? I said I was gonna propose?”
Hayden makes shushing noises, hands raised, trying to calm Shane down before he can really work himself up again. “Hey. Whoa. Okay. All good, man. I won’t tell anybody that you and Lily have been having wild crazy sex for eight years, I swear.”
Okay, that might’ve been a little too far. Shane is making goldfish faces now, and he’s the color of a tomato.
“Breathe, buddy. I will tell everybody I know that you’re still a virgin, don’t worry. Breathe.”