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Shane doesn’t know how he ended up in some downtown college bar alone on a Thursday night. Except he does. Everyone knows that Shane Hollander rarely accepts an invitation for a night on the town, especially during the hockey season.
There was just something about tonight that made Shane need a drink. He needed to get out of his head. Normally, he would text Rozanov, and all of the worries he carried with him would melt away upon just seeing the other man.
Tonight was different, though. It had been months since Shane had last seen Rozanov, much less heard from him. Not a chirp, a text, or even a light jab thrown in a post-game interview. The last time he was with Rozanov, their dynamic felt off. There was no teasing in Rozanov’s Vegas hotel room that night, just some of the most intense sex of Shane’s life. Afterwards, trying to get Rozanov to engage in small talk was like pulling teeth. The other man hardly even looked Shane’s way when they were finished.
We didn’t even kiss.
It was unlike any of the other times he had been with Rozanov. He enjoyed the little game Rozanov had been playing, but when he left Rozanov’s room, he felt cold. A little stone had formed in the pit of his stomach, anxiety overriding any feelings of pleasure he had leftover after their hookup.
Shane had replayed that night over and over in his head. Rozanov had followed him into that bathroom at the NHL awards. Rozanov was the one who invited Shane back to his hotel room after another several months of not acknowledging Shane’s existence. Rozanov was the one to ask Shane to perform for him on his hotel bed that night. Had he done something wrong? He only did as Rozanov asked. He always did as Rozanov asked. It was how they functioned. Shane always followed Rozanov’s lead.
It was almost unfair; Rozanov constantly sought Shane out, letting him think that everything was fine with them, and then all of a sudden, he wouldn’t hear from Rozanov for extended periods of time. He was unpredictable, and it all drove Shane crazy. Hot one day, cold another.
Their first hookup had been so different. Rozanov was so tender and gentle with Shane. It was almost like they could have been… something. The thought made Shane panic slightly, so he decidedly did not think about that often. He couldn’t help but remember how caring Rozanov was. It was so different from the public persona he put on for the league, for the fans.
He would catch glimpses of the Rozanov from that night in many of their other hookups, too. That’s part of the reason Shane often felt safe to just let go, to just be himself. Rozanov had the uncanny ability to make Shane feel both safe and dysregulated at the same time. Rozanov threw him off balance when, normally, Shane was focused, disciplined, and in control.
He had never felt more out of control than when he didn’t hear from Rozanov. He had become part of Shane’s routine: Play Boston, wait for Rozanov’s text, hookup, leave. Play each other hard on the ice and harder in the bedroom. Rinse & repeat. Occasionally, they would share a few messages outside of their normal routine, but they were mostly Rozanov talking shit about other players or teams. Shane had enjoyed those texts because it felt like Rozanov wanted to share a little more with Shane than just sex.
So, after tonight’s game against Boston, when he picked up his phone in the away-team locker room and saw that Rozanov hadn’t texted him, he was more than a little disappointed. Shane was pissed. He knew he shouldn’t be because he knew he was nothing to Rozanov but a hookup. Rozanov wasn’t his, and he wasn’t Rozanov’s. The other man had no obligation to text him because they weren’t anything. Still, Shane couldn’t help that sinking feeling he felt every time he checked his messages with “Lily” and saw no new response.
Shane had declined Hayden’s invitation to go clubbing in favor of a smaller bar, away from where the Metros were currently celebrating their win, so he could wallow alone. He didn’t need the team asking any questions about why Shane looked like he was going to commit arson after they had just won against their biggest rivals.
The bar he chose was overrun by sorority girls and fraternity guys from one or a few of the nearby universities. It looked like they were hosting some sort of event. Shane hoped that everyone would be too preoccupied with whatever Greek function they had going on to notice Shane sitting alone with his misery.
He got to the bar and was trying to think of what drink to order when a group of three girls sat next to him unceremoniously. They were all clad in purple head to toe with white feather boas and bedazzled pink cowboy hats. Their hair was curled pristinely, and their makeup matched their outfits perfectly. Maybe in another life, Shane would have thought they were cute, but he felt nothing but concern as their boas were currently shedding feathers all over the sticky bar floor.
One of the girls must have noticed him looking and, oh God, now they were giggling and pointing at him. Maybe coming here was not such a good decision, he thought, as one of the girls spoke to him.
She swayed into Shane clumsily and asked loudly, “Hi, I’m Bri. What are you drinking?”
Shane cringed at the volume of her question and answered in a normal tone, “Nothing yet, do you have any suggestions?”
“If you order the Purple Pride shot, all proceeds tonight go to a local women’s shelter, and our sorority matches the amount!” Bri said excitedly.
Shane had no idea what could be in a Purple Pride shot and was honestly afraid to ask.
Fuck it, might as well, he thought, and said, “Okay, I guess I’ll have that then.”
“Oh my god, yay!” the other girls chimed in.
Bri pointed to the shorter of the other two girls and spoke, “That’s Tyanna,” and then pointed at the taller of the two, “And that’s Tiffany.”
At the mention of their names, the two girls smiled and waved in an impressive level of synchronization for how tipsy they were.
“It’s shot-o’clock, ladies!” Bri announced to the group.
“First one’s on us!” Tyanna said to Shane.
“Oh, I can get my own-” Shane tried to interrupt.
“We insist…” Tyanna looked at him expectantly.
“Um, Shane.”
“We’ve got you, Shane. You can be our drinking buddy tonight.” She told him as she handed the bartender her card.
“Yesss!” Tiffany drawled.
“We need to get you a drink, too,” Bri said.
“I’ll just have whatever you’re having.” Shane decided.
Shane noticed belatedly that they all had some bright blue concoction in their cups that couldn’t have been good for their digestion. He didn’t have much time to rethink his decision, though, because the bartender had their drinks out almost immediately. Once their shots and Shane’s drink were set down, the girls all got out their phones, filming each other clinking their glasses together, all cringing at the taste of the shots and laughing. They seemed so happy and carefree.
Shane still had his shot in his hand when all of the girls looked at him eagerly. They had put their phones away, thankfully, and were just waiting for Shane to drink his shot.
“Throw it back!” Tiffany yelled.
Shane reluctantly drank the shimmery purple shot and chased it with his bright blue cocktail. The girls clapped and wooed at him.
Tyanna smacked him on the shoulder and said, “Wait, you forgot to tap it!”
“Tap it?” Shane asked.
“Yesss, you’re supposed to tap your shot glass on the bar before shooting it!” Bri laughed.
“Why am I supposed to do that?” Shane asked warily.
Tyanna shrugged. “I don’t know! You just do!”
“It’s tradition!” Tiffany said.
“I guess that means he has to try again!” Bri said, nudging the other girls.
“Again?”
The girls all started chanting, “Shot, shot, shot, shot!”
“Okay, okay!” Shane laughed as he took out his card.
The shot honestly wasn’t that bad the first time, so he didn’t mind humoring the girls’ demand. Shane signaled to the bartender for another shot, and the bartender grinned and poured him another.
“Okay, so, you take the glass,” Bri picked up her empty shot glass to demonstrate, “Tap it on the bar, then throw that bitch back!” She mimicked putting the shot glass down before bringing it back up to her mouth.
The girls all waited with bated breath as if they were watching him score on the ice, and not just about to drink a purple mystery liquid for the second time. Shane copied her motions; this shot went down like water, which couldn’t have been a good sign. The girls began cheering again and began talking amongst themselves, leaving Shane alone with his thoughts for a moment.
His face felt hot from the back-to-back shots, but that didn’t distract him from his screen lighting up on the bar top. He quickly picked up his phone and tried not to seem too disappointed when he saw it was just Hayden who had texted him. He opened their text thread and saw a picture of J.J. being held upside down by his legs doing a keg stand. It looked not unlike the scene currently happening in the corner of this bar, with a group of frat guys all cheering on one of their own attempting to do his own keg stand.
Shane couldn’t help clicking on his and “Lily’s” text thread just to be sure he didn’t miss any new messages. Still no new messages from Rozanov. He shouldn’t be surprised. Rozanov was probably at some high-end club trying to forget about his loss to Shane with some pretty blonde girl willing to stroke his ego and his cock. Shane put his phone face down on the bar and drank half of his drink in one go. This caught the girls’ attention, and they all turned to Shane, clapping.
They began to chant, “I like to drink with Shane, ‘cause Shane is my friend, I like to drink with Shane ‘cause he gets it down in ten, nine, eight…”
Shane didn’t know what the girls were getting at until Bri made a motion to speed it up, and he realized the girls wanted him to chug the rest of his drink.
“Seven, six, five,...”
To not disappoint his new friends, he began chugging the rest of his cocktail. He finished the drink before the girls made it to “one”.
“Okayyyy!” The girls celebrated.
“Time for another!” Tiffany said, ordering another round for the four of them. Shane caught her signaling for doubles out of the corner of his eye.
Jesus, these girls can drink. Shane thought to himself. They might actually be worse than his teammates. The Metros were known for nursing hangovers following most games, which is why he rarely chose to go out with him. Hangovers were not ideal for his rigorous training schedule or his performance diet. The voice in his head reminding him about these things seemed to be getting quieter at the moment.
As Shane and the girls continued ordering blue cocktails and shimmery purple shots, the voice in Shane’s head almost disappeared completely. Shane was actually having a great time with his new friends, laughing with the girls as they were telling embarrassing stories from previous Greek functions and giving him gossip about other people in the bar. Shane was fully invested in the drama going on with Tyanna and the keg stand guy from earlier.
“Wait, you’re in a what?” Shane yelled, swaying towards the girls.
“A situationship!” Tyanna groaned.
Shane laughed, “What the hell is a situationship?”
“It’s like when you and the guy you’re talking to are kind of a thing, but kind of not.” Bri explained, “Like you’re interested in him, but sometimes he ghosts you, but he always comes back.”
“Hence situationship- it’s a situation, you’re something, but you’re also not!” Tiffany piped up.
Shane’s eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open. He didn’t know there was a title for not having a title. Is that what he and Rozanov were? A situationship? He just thought it was hooking up.
“Wouldn’t you just call that hooking up?” Shane asked.
“It’s different though!” Bri said.
“How?”
Tyanna spoke, “Because you know you want more and the chemistry between you is more than a hookup, but it feels more like a relationship even though you’re not official.”
Tiffany spoke, “A hookup is no strings attached, a situationship has all the strings.”
“And you know the guy is no good for you, but you keep letting him come back anyway because you’re hoping he will eventually want more,” Tyanna said quietly.
Shane’s head hurt. He understood exactly what the girls were saying. He felt for Tyanna because even though things with him and Rozanov were supposed to be clear, the lines blurred. They blurred in Vegas. The lines blurred every time Rozanov kissed him goodbye after wiping Shane clean with a warm washcloth. The lines blurred every time Shane lingered in Rozanov’s hotel room, Rozanov not kicking him out. Forehead kisses, pillow talk, and running fingers through each other’s hair were not standard hookup procedures, according to the girls.
“That means I’m in a situationship then!” Shane exclaimed.
The girls leaned in and gasped, “Oh my god, tell us more!”
Shane explained to the girls how he had been hooking up with this guy for years and how the guy he was hooking up with was super affectionate sometimes and completely ghosted him for months. He told them about how Rozanov pursued him first. He told them about how he felt so safe and cared for the first time they hooked up. He told them about Vegas and how Rozanov couldn’t wait to put space between them after he put Shane in such a vulnerable position. Shane didn’t get into too many details, but the girls got the picture.
“Oh, hell no,” Bri said, “he’s a D1 slut!”
“He definitely has a roster!” Tyanna said. “You need to drop his ass.”
“You deserve better than that, Shane,” Tiffany said, putting a comforting hand on his arm.
It could have been the blue drinks or the purple shots or even the current of anger lingering under his skin all night, but Shane agreed with the girls. He did deserve better. Rozanov didn’t deserve Shane if he could be okay with not seeing him months on end. He didn’t care about the logistics of them being together right now. He just cared about how he felt. Rozanov made him feel so good when they were together, but he also made him feel insane when they weren’t. He couldn’t do it anymore.
Shane sat up.
“You guys are right. I might have to end things with him.”
“Might?” Bri crossed her arms. “Girl, this is the situationship final boss.”
“Okay, but Tyanna is still holding out for what’s-his-name!” Shane gestured wildly across the bar to keg stand guy, who was currently hanging all over another girl who was not Tyanna.
Tyanna stood up. “I’ll end it right now, don’t play.”
“Do it then,” Shane said, sipping his blue drink.
“I will if you will,” Tyanna said, holding out her pinky to Shane.
“Ugh, fine,” Shane said, linking their pinkies and rolling his eyes.
Shane and the other girls watched as Tyanna drunkenly marched right up to keg stand guy and presumably ended things with him. He looked disgruntled at most, but that look amplified as the girl on his arm untangled herself from him with a look of disgust, walking away.
As Tyanna walked back to the group, the girls congratulated her.
“You deserve a shot after that!” Bri said, ordering another round for the group.
After putting down yet another purple shot, all eyes were on Shane.
“What? I tapped it this time!” Shane said.
“It’s your turn to end things with your situationship!” Tyanna said. “You pinky promised!”
Shane spluttered, “Right now?”
“Uh, yeah, we have to make sure you do it. Otherwise, you’ll keep letting him come back!” Tyanna said, as if it were obvious.
And so what if he did let Rozanov come back? He missed those hands all over his body. He missed Rozanov’s mouth muttering Russian sweet nothings into his ear after they had sex. He missed running his fingers through those golden curls. As if the universe could hear his thoughts, his phone lit up with an address and a room number. Shane’s heart dropped.
“But guysss, he just texted me! He wants me to come over!” Shane whined, showing them his phone.
Tyanna squinted at the phone.
“First of all, the code name is crazy. Second, call him right now. Just think about how you’ll feel when he ghosts you again in a few weeks!”
Shane pouted as he unlocked his phone and FaceTimed Rozanov. He picked up on the first ring.
“Holl-” Rozanov began to drawl before Shane cut him off.
“I’m not coming over tonight. Or ever. It’s over between us. I deserve better!”
The girls all started cheering behind him.
“Delete his number!” Bri said to the screen.
“It’s so over!” Tyanna said, hanging off of Shane’s shoulder.
Rozanov quickly sat up from wherever he was lying, his brows drawn together.
“Where are you? Who are you with?”
Instead of responding, Shane just ended the call and turned his phone off.
“Okay, ladies, time to dance! I love this song!” Tiffany said, making her way to the dance floor.
The rest of the group, including Shane, followed her lead.
They all danced for several songs until they were red in the face.
“I could go for a drunk ciggy right now. Let’s get some air.” Bri spoke.
That was one thing Shane would not be partaking in, even in his drunken state. He could definitely use some air, though. The group made their way outside in search of someone with a spare cigarette. Bri spotted a guy down the street facing away from them, holding a cigarette in one hand and holding his phone to his ear with his other hand. Bri marched right up to him, the rest of the group following behind her. She tapped him on the shoulder.
“Excuse me, could we have a cigarette?”
The guy turned around, glancing up at her briefly, then back down at his phone. He held his lit cigarette in his mouth as he dug in his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He looked up as he handed her one. He glanced at the rest of the group and stilled. Shane caught his eye immediately, but Shane was looking at his feet, concentrating on walking in a semi-straight line.
Tyanna poked his arm, “Oooh, I think ciggy boy is looking at you!”
Shane looked up and stopped in his tracks. There was Rozanov, in the middle of the sidewalk, staring right back at Shane, an unreadable look on his face. Oh. And now he was heading their way, leaving Bri and her unlit cigarette behind him. Rozanov stopped in front of their group, looking at the girls, then back at Shane.
“Uh, hi,” Shane said.
“Hollander,” Rozanov spoke quietly.
“Oh, you know him, Shane?” Tyanna asked.
“Um. Yeah, this is-”
“Ask him if he has a lighter,” Bri said, arriving back at the group.
“Wait, wait, wait, is this..?” Tiffany whispered, not quietly.
“Y-yeah,” Shane said as he blushed, looking away from Rozanov.
“Can I speak with him in private, please?”
Sensing the shift in atmosphere, the girls just looked at each other. Tyanna stood in front of Shane, trying to catch his eye.
“Are you good? Do you want us to get rid of him?” she asked.
“No, I think I should, uh, talk to him,” Shane said.
“If you’re sure…” she said, corralling the other girls back towards the bar, not going in, but giving them some privacy to talk.
Rozanov reached towards Shane’s hand but hesitated and gestured to a bench nearby instead. They sat on the bench, Rozanov making sure to leave space between them. All Shane wanted to do was press his body against Rozanov’s and feel his warmth. He felt magnetized towards the other man. He felt like he was in a daze just from the proximity, despite some of his drunkenness being danced and sweated away.
Shane bit the bullet and spoke first.
“What are you doing here?”
“I needed to see you.”
“How did you even find me?”
Rozanov looked a little abashed as he spoke, “I, ah, noticed banners behind you in the video call. I searched social media for university events and found this one.”
“And you, what? Decided to come find me? Why?”
“I needed to know if you were serious about what you said. My phone calls stopped connecting. I got worried.”
Shane huffed, incredulously, frustrated tears welling up in his eyes.
“You haven’t acknowledged me in months, Rozanov! Why are you acting as if you care about me all of a sudden?”
Rozanov looked wounded. “Is not sudden.”
“Oh, so you always worry about me? Clearly not if you think it’s okay to just ghost me every few months!”
“What do you mean, ghost?”
Shane made a frustrated sound.
“Like, you’re there one second, then all of a sudden- gone!”
Rozanov remained silent, just looking at Shane.
“Like a ghost.” Shane finished awkwardly.
“I did not die, I am right here.”
“Yeah, now! But what about next month when I do something to drive you away again? No texts, no chirps, just nothing. Like I don’t even exist to you.”
Rozanov’s eyes softened as he reached up to brush his thumb over Shane’s cheek.
“Oh, miliy, you have done nothing wrong.”
He closed his eyes and leaned into the touch unconsciously. It had been so long since he last felt Rozanov’s touch, Shane doesn’t know how he survived this long without it.
“That’s hard to believe when you didn’t even kiss me after we…”
“After we what?”
“Oh, fuck off. You know. In Vegas.”
Rozanov looked away and shook his head. He looked angry with himself.
“I am no good for you, Hollander.”
“That’s not for you to decide.”
“You decided. Did you mean it? Is it… are we done?”
Shane looked down at his lap as he spoke quietly. “I don’t want to be.”
He looked Rozanov in the eyes as he said, “But I can’t keep feeling like this when you want me one second and ignore me the next.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m nothing to you.”
Rozanov looked as if he had been struck. His voice was desperate when he spoke, “You are not nothing to me, Hollander.”
Shane didn’t know what to say to that. He had a small, pleased smirk on his face.
“You’re not nothing to me either.” Shit. Maybe he was still a little drunk. He looked around, realizing that this was a much heavier conversation than they should have been having outside of a college bar in the middle of the night. “Can we not talk about this here?”
“You give me no choice, you say you are not coming over, and hang up on me,” Rozanov said, matter-of-factly.
“Ah, yeah, I guess you’re right.”
Rozanov gently caressed Shane’s face with his palm, looking him in the eyes.
“Will you come over then? Let me show you what you are to me?”
Shane blushed from his neck down to his chest. Warmth bloomed throughout his body. Shane searched Rozanov’s face for any indication that he was not being serious, that this was just classic Rozanov flirting. Something about the raw, hopeful look in his eyes told him that maybe the girls were wrong about him. They would be disappointed in Shane for what he was about to do, but he doubts they will remember him or his “situationship” in the morning. Shane looked back at where the girls were still waiting for him, huddled in a circle. Shane gave them a thumbs-up when they looked up at him. The girls waved at him and blew him kisses as they made their way back inside.
“Okay. Let’s go.” Shane said softly, letting Rozanov pull him off the bench.