Work Text:
1.
Scott coming out after winning the cup had been a huge deal. That felt obvious now and probably should have in the moment too. The thing is, though, neither Kip nor Scott had been sure that this wouldn’t just be something that got swept under the rug. Maybe, they would allow Scott to be gay and have his moment, that Sports Illustrated story if he was lucky, but, overall, his coming out would be looked over by the league and the talking heads and never talked about again.
That was not what happened. The video of them kissing had played on ESPN every hour, on the hour, for a week straight. Numerous writers from various sources did write ups about it, many requesting to interview Scott, and some (surprisingly) also asking for Kip’s thoughts.
However, amid all this attention, what clearly most affected Scott was the outpouring of messages he got from people in support of his actions. There were kids messaging him on Instagram about how much it meant to see a gay player at the highest levels of hockey, and how it inspired them to come out to their teams. There were LGBTQ advocates welcoming him to the community and telling him about how much of an impact his choice had made. There were athletes from other sports, even, saying how much his actions meant to them.
Scott obviously tried to read all the messages he could and take each one in. Though, it was clear the ones that meant the most to him were those from fellow hockey players. He told Kip that it helped him construct an internal list of “who was and who wasn’t an asshole.”
While Scott was looking at his messages (because Kip could tell when he was reading the messages now based on the utter look of pride and sincerity that overtook his face as he did it), he had an unexpected response. He snorted in laughter.
“What’s that for?” Kip asked.
“Got an email from Hollander.”
“The guy who’s fucking his rival?”
“The very same,” Scott said with a snort.
“What’s he say?” Kip usually did not ask for the specific content of Scott’s messages; he did not want Scott to feel pressured to out anyone in case that’s what was in the message. He was more than happy with the broad strokes Scott offered up willingly when describing the stories he received.
However, Scott had already told Kip about Hollander (and by extension Rozanov) a while ago, so sue him, Kip was curious what he had to say.
Scott grunted as he stretched across the couch to hand Kip his phone. Hollander’s email was open:
Dear Mr. Hunter,
First of all, congratulations on winning the cup! We’re happy for you to finally join the club. You had an incredibly impressive season and it has been a pleasure to watch.
On a more personal note, if you’ll allow me, I’d also like to congratulate you on your coming out. I experienced this moment with some of those who are closest to me, and we were all emotionally affected by this brave choice you made. I know this must not have been a decision you made lightly nor an easy secret to keep all these years, and I’d like to take the time to sincerely thank you for your choice, as it will affect more people than you’ll ever know. It is incredibly important, I believe, to demonstrate to the world that anyone and everyone should be able to participate and be celebrated by this sport we love. Going forward, I hope this moment will live in history as a turning point of inclusiveness in hockey and professional sports in general. To have the captain of the cup-winning team come out so publicly will inspire many to live more openly and to be braver in showing their love.
I wish I could speak to you in person at the MLH awards, but I am still recovering from injury, so I hope this will suffice.
Thank you.
Sincerely,
Shane Hollander
Kip looked back up at Scott after reading, “This is so sweet and so earnest! You fought this guy?”
“As I’ve said, not my proudest moment, fighting Canada’s golden boy.”
“You said, though, that he knows you know about him?”
“I mean, I think he does. This is a couple steps above the average message I’ve gotten from the players over the moon to declare their allyship.”
“Oh, I don’t think it’s subtle in the slightest that he’s talking from personal experience here. It’s just…why hide it at all, if you know?”
“I think Hollander thinks he’s a lot more subtle than he actually is.”
2.
Scott had left the VIP section of the gay club alone moments ago to get more drinks. When he returned, he had, in tow with him, a muscular guy with curly hair and a lazy smile on his face.
Carter, who Kip had finally had the pleasure of meeting, laughed and let out a, “Boooo! What the hell is this guy doing here?”
“Be nice,” Scott warned.
“Aww, Hunter, you have got soft in old age. Like sweet grandfather,” the new guy taunted in a Russian accent. Kip was starting to get an idea of who this might be…
“Nevermind, Vaughny, let loose,” Scott said, clearly tired of this man’s antics already, despite having found him mere moments ago.
The man let loose a toothy, taunting smile as he playfully punched Scott in the shoulder. He turned and saw Kip, getting a glint in his eye.
“This is your boyfriend, yes?” he asked Scott, while gesturing towards Kip.
“I feel like I’m going to regret this, but, yes, this is my boyfriend Kip. Kip, this is Ilya Rozanov,” Scott said, confirming Kip’s suspicions.
Rozanov immediately made his way over to Kip with a shit-eating grin on his face, as he sat on the couch next to him.
“It is very nice to meet you! I have many questions.”
“Oh?” Kip responded, not at all sure where this was going to go.
“Yes. Like, how is it to have sex with fossil? It must hurt, no?”
Kip was not sure how to respond to that, so he simply let out a nervous laugh. He looked to Scott, who was just shaking his head and rolling his eyes, like this was par for the course for Rozanov.
“Scott’s not that old.”
“That is lie. He is old, old, decrepit man. This is retirement party, yes?”
“Um, no?” Kip said.
“Ah. Shame. You are so young and so beautiful! And you are with old man Hunter?” Rozanov shook his head, like this was indeed a great shame. “If you ever get tired of him, let me know,” he said with a wink.
Kip tried not to let Rozanov, or anyone else for that matter, see his shocked expression at what had just been said to him.
Finally, Scott stepped in, “Okay, Rozanov, let me sit next to my boyfriend, go annoy someone else.”
Rozanov acquiesced to Scott’s request, saying as he got up, “Eh, whatever. Is boring over here anyway. Is that what Scott Hunter night theme means?” He laughed and exited the VIP section, seemingly deciding to hit the dance floor, Scott once again claiming his seat.
Kip watched as several interested men came up to Rozanov. He ended up wrapping one arm around the neck of a man behind him and placing his hand on the waist of a guy in front of him, the three of them writhing with the collective motion of the club.
It’s clear Scott’s teammates were not paying attention to Rozanov at all. Kip and Scott, however, shared looks of surprise and barely contained laughter with each other.
“Does he just gay or European his way through life?” Kip had to ask Scott. Scott threw his head back with a shock of a laugh.
3.
A breaking news alert from ESPN flashed across the screen as Scott and Kip were enjoying their lunch together: “MLH’s Rozanov and Hollander End Rivalry, Start Charity Together.”
Scott, as he so often did in matters that concerned Hollander and/or Rozanov, rolled his eyes at the news. It reminded Kip of about half a year ago when the news reported that Rozanov had signed with Ottawa for “mysterious and undisclosed reasons” and Scott had said, without missing a beat, “Oh, I’m sure.”
This news report involved several images of Rozanov and Hollander sitting together, presumably talking to the press, and statements from them about starting charity hockey camps benefitting organizations that focus on mental health and suicide prevention.
“I don’t know how they continue to get away with it,” Scott declared. “I mean. Look at Hollander, he’s moments away from gently petting Rozanov’s hair and giving him a tender and loving kiss.”
Kip…did not disagree with that assessment. The photo currently on screen showed Rozanov visibly holding back some strong emotions as Hollander held his arm in comfort, eyes big and wet with concern for his arch-enemy (or, Kip supposed, “friend” now).
“It’s sad about Rozanov’s mom, though,” Kip offered.
Scott muttered under his breath.
“What was that?” Kip asked.
“I said I have a tragic backstory, too, you don’t see me being an insufferable asshole, though,” Scott said, begrudgingly.
That made Kip laugh. “No, you are very nice. The sweetest! I don’t get why you hate Rozanov that much. He was nice to me!”
“I don’t hate him…He just pisses me off. I kind of wish he was homophobic, then I could just hate him. But instead I have, like, a reluctant kinship with him.”
“Oh, how horrible,” Kip said sarcastically, “You have an annoying friend.”
“Friend is an incredibly strong word.”
“I do think this is kind of smart of them, though.”
“You think moving to the guy’s hometown, effectively becoming business partners, and having a close enough relationship with his mother to work side by side with her is subtle?”
“Well, maybe not subtle if you know what to look for—which, I think we’re the only ones who do—but they could theoretically go out for coffee without people freaking out.”
“Those freaks aren’t just going out for coffee.” Scott shuddered.
“Scott,” Kip pleaded, “You remember what it was like to be closeted. We could barely go anywhere together, and I’m an absolute nobody. Imagine what it must be like for two of you to be in a relationship.”
“I don’t have to imagine too hard. I’ve heard them, remember?”
Kip fixed him with a look.
“Look, I’m just a little concerned for them, is all. I knew everything it took for me to hide. And these two are just…not doing all of that, not being as careful as I was. If the wrong person was next door to them in a hotel or asked the right question to Hollander, their entire world could change like that without their permission.”
“So what you’re saying is that you care? You are literally so sweet.”
“Hollander is a nice guy. He wouldn’t deserve any of that drama.”
“And Rozanov?”
“Has clearly suffered enough. Gay in Russia? Mom killed herself? Secret relationship? Pick a struggle, am I right?”
“You care about him…just a little,” Kip needled him.
“Don’t tell him. He’d be even more insufferable,” Scott said, shaking his head as he turned back towards the television.
4.
Kip was excited to go to the All Star Game with Scott this year in San Francisco. The past couple years, Kip had been determined to work as much as he could. Even if Scott could theoretically support the both of them financially, Kip had no interest in that. However, Scott had convinced him to take this vacation with him.
“Won’t you be working the whole time?” Kip had protested.
“Eh,” Scott shrugged. “No one really cares or tries that hard. It’s mostly an excuse to have fun with guys across the league.”
So Kip had agreed and made a whole itinerary of things to do in the area when Scott wasn’t playing hockey. The first thing on the itinerary: arrive at the hotel.
Kip did not expect a wrench to be thrown into his plans so soon. As they began to settle into their room, they came to the uncomfortable realization that the walls between rooms in this hotel were thin. Very thin.
“You’re all millionaires,” Kip whispered, “They couldn’t put you up in a place with walls thicker than an inch?”
“You’d be surprised,” Scott whispered back.
Why were they whispering, one might ask. The reason for that was the unmistakable voice of Ilya Rozanov floating into their room.
“Hollander, we are using my room tonight…Is at end of hall, basically no neighbors, perfect for you.”
“Except us!” Scott whispered with intensity.
“You do not want to know who next door is…Fine, fine, I give you hint. He is hot and boring like you,” Rozanov continued, presumably on a phone call with the one and only Shane Hollander.
“Ilya Rozanov thinks you’re hot!” Kip whispered, holding in laughter.
“I wish I didn’t know that!” Scott replied, rolling his eyes aggressively.
“Oh what is worst thing that can happen if Hunter overhears us? You think gay Scott Hunter, trailblazer for MLH will out two colleagues? No. I do not think so. More likely he just jerks off because we sound so sexy together.”
Kip began to shake with silent laughter, tears forming at the edges of his eyes. He was sure his face was completely red from having to hold it all in.
“I swear to god, I’m going to kill him,” Scott whispered, his face also red, but for a completely different reason presumably.
Rozanov continued, oblivious to the fact that every single word of his was being overheard. “Oh, I know exactly what I want to do with you tonight, moy lyubimyy,” he purred. Purred!
Scott looked like he was about to throw up. Not subtle, he mouthed at Kip.
“Ok…Ok…I will see you later. I love you. So much.” Kip then heard Rozanov let out a big sigh and (probably) flop back on his bed.
“Aw. They’re kind of sweet,” Kip said, continuing to whisper.
“We’re getting another room,” Scott declared with quiet determination. “I’ll pay for this one because no one should be subjected to listening to them. We’ll just sleep elsewhere.” He gathered up his and Kip’s things that they had yet to unpack, and started walking towards the exit. Kip still laughed quietly as he followed him.
5.
Of all Scott’s not-actually-hockey hockey-related events, Kip would say his favorite was definitely the MLH awards. For one, Scott looked incredibly handsome in a suit. More than anything, though, it was the memory of the first one he attended. Where Scott had given a beautiful speech upon winning MVP. Where he had let himself love Kip out loud, and gotten the support of his colleagues. Also, it was hilarious to watch men with zero natural stage presence attempt to act their way through cringe-inducing skits
After the show, instead of a gay bar like the first time, they simply went to the nice hotel bar where the rest of the players and their guests had congregated. Though Kip was pretty friendly with Scott’s teammates by now, he really wasn’t following the threads of their conversation too closely.
Instead, he found himself people watching. And the most interesting people in the room to watch were by far Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov. They weren’t standing together. They weren’t standing anywhere near each other for that matter. But they were constantly looking at each other. Hollander would scan the crowd every few seconds, like he was looking for something to grab his attention, but his gaze would inevitably settle back on Rozanov. Rozanov, in turn, would look down at his phone for a moment, but his eyes would bounce back up to Hollander, like he was afraid he’d miss something important. Crucially, they never looked at each other at the same time.
Hollander eventually excused himself to go to the bathroom. Rozanov approached the bar, ordering two shots and dispatching of them quickly. He then got a funny look on his face (and not the funny look one would normally get if they had just done two shots in less than thirty seconds). The look was playful and kind of whiny.
“Has anyone seen Hollander?” he asked quite loudly, a concerned look on his face. “I need to do shots with him!”
Naturally, everyone in his vicinity started to look around themselves for Hollander.
“My best friend? Shane Hollander? Love of my life? Shane Hollander? Has anybody seen him?”
This show Rozanov put on got a laugh out of everyone in attendance, none of them considering for a moment the sincerity behind it. And Rozanov played it up. Exaggerating his drunkenness, exaggerating his desperation to see Hollander.
Kip turned to Scott next to him. He seemed very concerned. His own glass held to his lips as he quietly scanned the crowd for anyone interpreting this display in the same way he was.
Everyone around them was caught up in the spontaneous one-man play Rozanov was acting out, hanging on to his every word. When Shane Hollander finally exited the bathroom, a cheer went up in the crowd, causing a confused expression to cross his face. Everyone in his path began to push him towards Rozanov at the center of the room, who immediately put his arm around Hollander, pulling him in close against his body.
“Hollander! You are here! Finally!”
“I’ve been here, asshole,” Hollander said back to him, clearly having no idea what he had walked into.
“I was saying, we have to do shots together. Because we are best buddies now, yes?” Rozanov said, pulling Hollander impossibly tighter against his side, shaking him a little bit. Hollander somewhat resembled a disgruntled kitten in this state.
“Yeah, sure. Us, best pals,” Hollander said flatly. This line sent the crowd gathered around them into an uproar, throwing their heads back in laughter. No one else seemed to notice the gently fond expression that graced Hollander’s features for just a moment.
Kip once again looked at Scott, who he found shaking his head, chuckling. They’d been together long enough now that Kip knew what he was thinking: I can’t believe these two just keep getting away with it.
+1
“Um, Scott?” Kip shouted to Scott who was still in the bedroom.
“What?” Scott yelled back.
“Have you seen this?”
“Seen what?”
“Come in here.”
Scott rushed into their front room. “Is something wrong?”
“It might be,” said Kip as he showed Scott his phone and pressed play.
At first Scott looked confused as to what he was watching, no idea why Kip would want him to see a video of Hayden Pike wishing a fan happy birthday. And then Kip saw when Scott saw it, his jaw dropping wide as he finally spotted Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov passionately making out in the background.
“Is this…?” Scott asked.
“Everywhere,” Kip confirmed.
“Shit.” Scott shook his head, as he so often did in matters concerning those two, but this time with much more sadness and shock than exasperation and incredulity. “I always joke about how it’s a miracle they haven’t been caught, but, man. This is not good.”
“Yeah,” Kip said, sympathetically. “What are you going to do?”
“I guess I have to start by sending them both some really sincere emails.”