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Aaand look at that, the third Metros goal of the game!
Rozanov still on the ice, he does not look happy about that one.
The thing about being a player like Rozanov is that people notice when your game is off. And tonight, Jim, his play is really off.
The NHL hasn't seen him play his defense this badly since…
Blood pounds through Hayden's ears and he's grinning, face split with the joy of it, as he skates to the side of the rink. This game wasn't a big one- just part of the rush to the playoffs- but any game that they win versus the Boston Raiders is one that Hayden counts as an enormous victory. Especially because he's had the great privilege of being invited into Shane's private life with the one and only Ilya Rozanov, and he knows that the bets that Shane and Rozanov place often depend on one of them winning the game. When the Metros win, it means Shane gets his way. Whatever his way involves, Hayden doesn't want to know, but he's glad of it anyway. As a best friend.
Sweating and practically on cloud nine, Hayden bumps his helmet into Shane's at the side of the ice. It was a good run. Montreal won 4-1, with one goal from Shane and another from Hayden with Shane's assist. If he was Shane right now, he'd be beaming like Hayden is. Instead, he's glancing across the rink where Rozanov is fist-bumping his players as they trudge off towards the locker rooms.
Maybe Rozanov’s play was a bit off tonight, but whatever. They should be celebrating. The crowd, dominated by the Metros in their hometown, cheers when Shane lifts a halfhearted hand to wave.
The locker room is loud and alight as it often is after a game they win. Hayden and Shane head to their cubbies, and Shane immediately strips down to his undershirt before grabbing his phone. 2 messages from Lily lights up on Shane's screen, and because Hayden is a good friend and not overly nosy or anything, he looks away when Shane hastily opens them.
Lily, Hayden learnt two months ago over a very awkward dinner with Shane, is Ilya. Not very creative on their part, but Hayden wouldn't have guessed it, so he lets it slide. They still haven't changed their names. They aren't out to the public, Hayden guesses. Sometimes it does make him feel a little weird that it would be so out of hand for them to show their love, though; no one's ever batted an eyelid when Hayden kisses Jackie in public. He can't imagine being under that level of scrutiny for being in love.
And anyway, Hayden doesn't want to know what Rozanov's texting him about. He's thankful that Shane isn't one of those people that over-shares, because he can be supportive but he doesn't want to know anything about Rozanov's performance in bed, thank you very much.
“We really fucked them tonight!” JJ exclaims as he throws an arm over Hayden's shoulders, and he smells like sweat and locker room. They probably all smell like that. “Clubbing tonight, ay, Cap?”
Glancing up briefly from his screen, Shane shakes his head before going back to typing furiously. Maybe he didn't win this bet. “You guys can go without me. Thanks, though.”
Hayden shrugs. “I'll come.” He offers, even though he wasn't the one JJ wanted. Clubbing is an open invite with them anyway, and he doesn't have anything better to do. A night away from Jackie and the kids could be nice, especially to celebrate.
JJ gives him a nod and a pat on the back, which is so harsh it almost makes him cough, before turning his attention over to Shane. Both hands go to Shane's shoulders and he leans over to read off his screen. Immediately, Shane locks his phone and puts it back up in his cubby, but it's too late.
“Oh, I see. I get it.” JJ says, grinning knowingly as he backs up, hands up. “Someone's got plans with Boston Lily tonight. Cannot complain, you will play better tomorrow!”
JJ wanders off to probably spread the news that Shane Hollander is getting laid tonight. Boston Lily has quickly become a well known character among the Metros- if only for the way that Shane will immediately text back, or sometimes even blush. Sometimes it takes Hayden days to get a response out of Shane over the phone.
Shane looks confused as he sits to take his game socks off. “I'll play better tomorrow?” He asks Hayden, glancing up at him. His phone beeps. Both of them ignore it- maybe Shane's arguing with Rozanov. It would be like Rozanov to be a sore loser.
“Yeah. You play better after you've gotten laid.” Hayden explains as he strips off his own jersey, digging around in his bag for his phone. Maybe Jackie managed to watch the game and knows that he's won, but the most likely outcome is that she had to watch the kids and missed his goal entirely, and it's his first goal in three weeks. He wants to brag about it. “Well known fact, dude. Everyone plays better after, y'know, that.”
Hayden sends off a quick text to Jackie before continuing to strip down. Someone elbows him in the side and gives him an over-exaggerated kiss on the temple. Good goal tonight, Pike! Drinks on me! and yeah, he knows that's right.
“I'm not getting laid by Boston Lily, Hayd.” Shane says with a little shake of his head, looking down at the floor.
“Not by Boston Lily, no.” Hayden wiggles his eyebrows, but it only earns him a very incredulous look from Shane as he glances around the locker room. Everyone is clearing out to shower, anyway, and it's so loud they can't be heard that clearly.
“Not here. I told you, don't talk about it.”
Hayden gets it. He really does. Okay, maybe he can't truly understand because he isn't… y'know, gay, but he knows that Shane doesn't want anyone to know and he knows why. Rozanov probably wouldn't want anyone else to know, either. Womaniser, can't keep it in his pants Rozanov. Weird to think about.
But can't Shane ever lighten up a little? He should be able to joke about it, to talk, especially with Hayden.
Coach pokes his head into the locker room, and JJ is on him next, giving him a punch on the arm. For once, he doesn't get told off for it.
“Shane, media in 20?” Coach asks, and Shane's face does something strange.
He's meeting Ilya, Hayden thinks. But he can't say that. What would his excuse be? Hey, I'm getting laid by my boyfriend of eight years that none of you know about. Oh, yeah, by the way, this boyfriend is also Ilya fucking Rozanov.
So Shane just nods curtly. “Yeah. Okay.”
Coach leaves, and Shane picks up his phone to start furiously typing again. He only managed to get one sock off.
That's the part of it that Hayden thinks is sad; they get to see each other maybe twice a month during the season, if they're lucky, and most of the time even that gets disturbed. They can't be open about any of it. Looks from afar that Hayden only just recognises. Sad.
But Hayden knows better than to ask if it's okay. Sure, Shane deserves to talk about it, but not here, not now, and not with Hayden. That's what he'd say because that's what he always says.
As Hayden's turning to leave for the showers where the rest of the Metros have gone, Shane whips his head up. “Wait.” He says, and then clears his throat awkwardly. “Can I… ask a favour?”
“Sure.” Hayden says without hesitation. Shane's done things for him before- babysat and changed his newborn's diapers. Anything he wants after dealing with that.
“It's a big thing, so if you don't want to you can just say so. It'll be fair enough, if you don't want to.”
“Okay.” Get on with it, Shane. Hayden's sweaty and this whole room smells like fart and if he doesn't shower now then the others will leave for the club without him.
“You, uh, remember when I told you about… the thing that, um, Lily does? When she's… coping?”
Shane rarely pauses his much when he's speaking. As a public figure, he's perfected his ‘media’ voice, where he doesn't really sound like Shane at all. Now he's tripping over his words.
But yeah, Hayden remembers.
It'd been months ago, maybe January, and he'd been sharing a hotel room with Shane during an away game when Shane had gotten a call from Rozanov. Halfway through getting ready to go for dinner with the rest of the Metros, Shane had carelessly assumed that it was one of the team calling and put the phone on speaker. Rozanov had been crying on the other end, saying something in Russian and absolutely sobbing.
Hayden, obviously, because he does have some semblance of respect, had pretended like he didn't hear when Shane immediately left the room and didn't come to dinner until thirty minutes after everyone else had arrived. He'd been unkempt and obviously stressed and Hayden couldn't even imagine Rozanov ever being in that state. So shaken he could barely talk. Hayden will never forget the way he'd cried. Even though he hates the man's guts, he gets the gist of his childhood and family, and no one deserves to go through all that.
After the dinner, curious, Hayden had asked about it. Why was he crying? Was everything okay? It'd been friendly really- mostly just wanting to make sure that in case it was something to do with Shane- because he knows this isn't something that Shane can talk about just anyone about.
Age regression is what Shane called it. Their conversation had been short and awkward, but basically the idea is that Rozanov gets into a younger mindset sometimes because of what he's been through and acts like a kid for a while. Hayden has since done some brief research on it out of curiosity, and honestly, good for Rozanov. It sounds like a good coping mechanism.
Obviously hard to deal with when he's away from Shane, though.
“Yeah, I remember.” Hayden says, even though he's not sure it's necessary to be all coded and call him Lily. Everyone's in the showers and JJ’s practically shouting. They can't hear them. “Why?”
Shane scratches behind his neck and stays sitting down, avoiding Hayden's eye contact. He does that a lot. “She’s kind of doing it right now. I was meant to go and meet her at my apartment, but I'll probably be a bit late because I have the press to talk to, so… could you go and keep an eye on her? Just for half an hour, I swear.”
Just that makes Hayden think a lot. His first thought, though, is that he's being trusted, both by Shane and Rozanov, who undoubtedly knows this plan because Shane wouldn't want to go behind his back, to care for Rozanov while he's basically a child. This is one weird day.
But he's not about to say no. Of course not, when Shane probably has no one else to ask. This is for Shane. “Yeah, man, totally.” Hayden says, putting his towel down to pat Shane on the shoulder. “Of course. Do you have the key?”
That's how Hayden ends up white-knuckling his steering wheel on the way to Shane's Montreal apartment. He's been over before, of course he has, but never under these circumstances, and never to meet Rozanov. Maybe he'll be in a bad mood. He did lose the game after all, and even if he's been warned, Hayden's probably the last person he wants to see if he's feeling… little. Whatever Shane calls it.
The whole concept is fascinating to Hayden, if a little weird. He's never actually seen Rozanov like that before, but he can't imagine it, either. He's 6 foot tall and basically a wall of muscle. What does he even do when regressed?
Thankfully, during his drive over, Shane sends a couple of very long messages explaining everything about Ilya's regression in more depth. Hayden wonders absently how he managed to write it all so fast.
He skims through as he drives, using one finger to flick through the text, half keeping an eye on the road. Jackie would kill him- Shane would, too- but he's still paying attention to driving, goddammit. This is the first favour Shane's asked of him in all of their friendship, and Hayden is not about to fuck it up.
Most of the texts go in one ear and out the other for Hayden, but a few parts stick with him.
He'll probably suck on his thumb, or on his necklace. He puts a lot of things in his mouth. There are pacifiers around the house, he will probably call it a soska, but don't worry unless it's something dangerous for him to chew on.
Yeah, that checks out. Hayden obviously isn't close with Rozanov, but he's seen him with his necklace in his mouth a few times, and if he's wearing a hoodie with strings they will be between his lips. Funny thought, Rozanov having pacifiers. Or whatever the fuck is a soska is.
Ilya tends to not want to talk a lot when he's little. English can be difficult for him, and even though he doesn't reply or talks in Russian, he does know what you're saying. He just gets stubborn.
Also checks out. Of course Rozanov is stubborn even when he's basically a child.
At the end, Shane has left a short list of what he'd like Hayden to do with Rozanov; obviously he's going to be a little scared and routine and having things to do will probably help. He needs a shower, obviously, and Shane says that he'll cook dinner, but he'd like Hayden to chop up some vegetables if he gets time. Rozanov might want to help, but his ‘headspace’ is only around 4, so don't let him use the knife on his own. He can have half an hour of screen time if he's pissing Hayden off. Don't shout at him, he will get scared. Don't hurt him, he will get scared. Don't take his toys, he will get scared.
Okay. Hayden can do this.
He takes a deep breath before he gets out of his car, locking it, still skimming through Shane's text to make sure he didn't miss anything crucial before he gets into the apartment back door. Climbs the stairs. Pauses again, outside the actual door to Shane's apartment, nervous about the state Rozanov's going to be in. But Hayden's got four kids and he's a very capable man, and there's no way he's backing down from this just because he's nervous. He knows kids.
Sure, Rozanov came over once for dinner with Jackie and Shane, but that's about the most Hayden's ever talked to him. This is mildly intimidating.
The apartment isn't any different to how it normally is. Rozanov's shoes are kicked off haphazardly in the doorway, and Hayden thinks to himself about how Shane wouldn't like that. He bends and picks them up to put them in the shoe rack.
There's no Rozanov in the lounge, so Hayden continues through to where he knows Shane's bedroom is. Sure enough, the door is pulled up and there's just enough light from a lamp inside that Hayden can tell that's where he is.
Rozanov is curled over on the bed. He's still fully dressed from the game, compression shirt and sweatpants, like he's stripped off very quickly in the locker room to rush home to Shane's apartment. Both hands are holding a blanket that's tucked against his chest and partly against his face. The room smells mildly like sweat, and Hayden understands why Shane wants Hayden to get him in the shower.
“Hi.” Hayden says awkwardly, clearing his throat in the doorway, hands shoved into his pockets. Awkward.
Rozanov's head shoots up from the pillows. His hair is all messy and jesus christ, he needs to fix those curls. One hand uncurls from the very tired looking blanket so he can rub his eye. Maybe he'd been sleeping.
“Get out.”
Fair enough. Hayden can't exactly blame him.
He will get scared, Hayden thinks, from Shane's message. Even if this seems like typical Rozanov trying to get him riled up, he knows that he's probably terrified right now. If this was one of Hayden's kids, he'd hug them. It doesn't seem right to hug Rozanov.
“I'm not doing this for you.” Hayden says, as if it makes a difference. He's still here, invading the space that is so clearly Rozanov's more than it's his. “I'm doing it for Shane. If I leave, he's going to be really fucking pissed at me and you, so…”
With a very heavy sigh, Rozanov shoves the blanket half under his side. Maybe it's a comfort one. “Fine.”
Hayden continues. “Okay. We're gonna… Shane says you need to shower. And then I'm going to cut up vegetables, and you can play on your iPad if you want. Or I can play with you. Um, understand?”
There's no response from where Rozanov has once again pressed himself against the pillows. Shane had said that he struggles with talking, but he'd also said that he can understand English, so he could at least nod. Instead of a response, there's a little sniff.
“Understand?” Hayden repeats, not coming any further into the room. He's invaded enough.
Again, nothing. Another sniff. Hayden can see Ilya rub the blanket between his forefinger and thumb.
All selfishness he had to uphold his reputation goes out the window. This might be Rozanov, but it's also Ilya, Shane's boyfriend who is effectively four years old because of his shitty upbringing and maybe his family doesn't like it when Ilya loses games. From what Hayden knows, both his parents are dead, but Shane's told him about Ilya's brother in the past. Siblings can be really mean. Hayden isn't about to be the reason that Shane's fucking boyfriend doesn't get the comfort that he needs tonight.
“Do you want to talk about what's upsetting you?” Hayden prompts, like he would if this was Ruby and she was throwing it down.
That does get him somewhere. Ilya sniffs again. “Not upset.” He murmurs.
At least it's something. “Okay. I, uh, the game was kinda rough though, and I'd like a hug. If that's okay.”
That's another tactic Hayden's learnt. When his kids are upset, they won't accept a hug straight up, but if they think it's to help Hayden? Suddenly it's so much easier.
There's hesitation on Rozanov's part, but then he's pushing himself off the bed and Hayden can see the tears glistening on his cheeks under the low lamplight. He brings his blanket with him- it's smaller than Hayden thought- and tucks himself into Hayden's chest, even though he's definitely bigger than him. Somehow he just seems so small. Yeah, this is Ilya, not Rozanov. This is Ilya and he's a scared little boy.
Ilya hiccups and cries into Hayden's shoulder, and it's instinct for him to reach up and squeeze the base of his neck gently, other hand going around Ilya's lower back. How would Shane do it? Probably he'd do a better job than whatever Hayden's doing right now, but this is definitely better than nothing.
For a moment, they just stand there. Hayden keeps his hand on Ilya's neck and rubs his back rhythmically, letting him cry.
But they have things to do, and Hayden's not going to stand here for half an hour and let Shane come home to a very distraught Ilya. He pats his back twice gently before pulling away, even going so far as to wipe Ilya's tear off his cheek with his thumb. The movement is quick and fleeting, but still there. His blue eyes still glisten with tears in the lamplight.
“Right.” Hayden says decisively. “Why don't you show me where your pajamas are?”
Finding the pajamas doesn't take long. There's a pair tucked neatly in one of Shane's drawers, consisting of some fleece trousers with white stars all over and one of Shane's t-shirts. Obviously Shane's, if the ‘Montreal Metros’ emblazoned across the front says anything. Hayden has to stifle a grin at the thought of Ilya wearing Metros merch.
After that- and a surprisingly quick discussion to get Ilya to leave his blanket in the bedroom, instead of taking it to the shower with him so it doesn't get wet- Hayden makes sure Ilya's set in the bathroom for his shower. Shane would probably help him out, but there's no way Hayden's doing that. This is enough. He does make sure the door is open a little though, just in case, before going to the kitchen.
When he arrived, Ilya had dumped a bag of his gear on the table. Hayden empties it with a sigh and starts a load of laundry. If he doesn't gain at least ten best friend points for this, then he definitely won't be happy.
After turning the radio on, Hayden finds some carrots and cauliflower in the fridge and is just looking for a chopping board when Ilya emerges from the bathroom. It's obvious he hasn't washed his hair, the curls only slightly damp with steam, but Hayden doesn't blame him. At least he's dressed and clean enough. That blanket is back clutched against his side in one fist.
“Hi.” Hayden greets, sticking his head up so he can see Ilya over the top of the counter. The sight of him in a Metros shirt is as entertaining as Hayden expected. Shane's apartment is so meticulously organised that it's almost difficult to find anything, which is frustrating when all he wants is a chopping board. “You need something, or…”
Ilya points to his chest with his free hand. “Pomoshch’.”
Even though Hayden had been warned about Ilya speaking Russian more when he's like this, he wasn't exactly expecting to be thrown into another language. Hayden doesn't know a word of Russian. He couldn't even tell you something simple, like ‘hello.’ Distantly, he wonders if Shane has learnt any over the years.
“Sorry, man, I've got no idea what that means.” Hayden says, genuinely apologetic. In one of the drawers under the island there's color coded chopping boards. Hayden pulls out the green one with a picture of a tomato in the corner- vegetables.
Ilya's face twists and he looks almost frustrated. English must be really difficult for him. “Help?” He tries instead.
Cute. Right, he wants to help. “Yeah, come here.”
Hayden gets Ilya set up pulling bits off of the cauliflower while he deals with the carrots. He thought about letting Ilya peel them, but judging from the way he's eating half the cauliflower and ripping the other half into absolutely tiny pieces, he's obviously feeling too young for that. It's weird, seeing him like this. The thought that a fully grown man could genuinely believe that he's a kid.
“How old are you?” Hayden asks after a moment, just to fill the silence.
Confused, Ilya shoots him a sideways glance, mouth full of raw cauliflower. “Twenty six.” He says, muffled. His accent is thicker than Hayden remembers.
Maybe he doesn't genuinely think of himself as younger.
“No offence, but you aren't acting twenty six, dude.” Hayden's voice isn't mean, it's just honest. He puts the carrot peel in the bin and finds a knife to cut them up with.
Ilya doesn't say anything else.
Later, when Shane comes back, Hayden's definitely going to ask him about this. Sure, he's not Ilya's biggest fan, but the whole concept of age regression is downright fascinating. There's more than one question floating around Hayden's head. Why does Ilya do this? What triggers it? If he still knows he's twenty six, how old is he mentally? Why the fuck does he like raw cauliflower so much?
“Okay, yeah, that's enough.” Hayden says when Ilya's genuinely eaten about a quarter of the damn vegetable. “That's… great. Thanks.”
Proud, Ilya points down at the few florets that are actually on the chopping board, all of them remarkably small. “My Shane like?”
Yeah, Shane will love them, Hayden thinks inwardly. It's all Shane's ever wanted. “Yeah, Shane will love them.”
Ilya looks mildly irritated again. “My Shane.” He says.
Despite himself, Hayden's lips actually do quirk up a little at the edges. “Sure. Your Shane.”
Halfway through chopping up the carrots, Hayden pauses to get Ilya settled on the couch with his iPad. He makes sure he's comfortable with his blanket and games before returning to the kitchen. From here, he can just see the back of Ilya's head where he's leaning against the back of the couch.
He stays settled for about five minutes.
“Hayden?” Ilya's voice is smaller than normal, almost nervous, and Hayden gets it. If he was regressed or whatever, he definitely wouldn't want to be around someone who hates him. He probably wouldn't want to be around anyone.
“You need something?” Hayden asks, guiltily chewing on a bit of raw carrot.
“Soska?”
Hayden's about to tell him that he doesn't know what the fuck that is, but he remembers Shane's message from earlier. Pacifier. Right. “Yeah. Hold on.”
It only takes a minute to find Ilya a pacifier. Shane really wasn't lying when he said they were everywhere; there's one on top of the chest of drawers in their bedroom, and another on the side of the sink in the bathroom when he goes to rinse it. For a pacifier, it's a nice one. Shane had obviously got it personalised for him- Ilya's name is spelled out in little bead letters across the handle.
Hayden returns to the lounge and hands it to Ilya. “Here.” He says. “Whatcha playing?”
Ilya takes it with a small ‘ta’ as thanks and shows Hayden his iPad screen. Some farm game. Hayden doesn't recognise it.
“My Shane did crops.” Ilya says, pointing at the wheat on the screen. “He is good.”
The thought of Shane sitting down in the evenings with a little Ilya and genuinely playing some game about farms is hilarious. Hayden laughs a little, but it's not unkind. “Hm, I'm sure.” He muses. “Need anything else?”
Ilya shakes his head and goes back to playing.
With the vegetables done, there's not much else for Hayden to do. There's dishes piled in the sink and he actually washes up for the first time in what must be months, and just as he's doing that there's the sound of keys in the door.
Shane looks exhausted. His hair is damp- he'd obviously just showered after his media appearance- and he's in some sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, jacket thrown over the top, and he kicks off his Reeboks and puts them in the rack.
Immediately, Ilya's head whips around on the couch. His iPad is dropped onto the couch as he shoots over to Shane, grinning, and Hayden's honestly never seen him smile like that. Maybe when he won the Stanley Cup. That's probably the only time he's ever seen him smile.
“My Shane!” Ilya exclaims, voice muffled behind the pacifier that he'd been chewing on.
Despite being absolutely shattered, Shane shuts the rack and wraps Ilya up in his arms, kissing the side of his head a few times in affection. He's smiling, too. They must've seen each other half an hour ago and they're acting like it's been years.
Shane pulls Ilya back to get a look at him, kissing his forehead before tucking him back into his shoulder. “Was he alright for you, Hayd?” Shane asks.
Alright is an understatement. Ilya barely did anything, just wanted to help with the vegetables and then play quietly. Surprising, for Ilya. Hayden was expecting him to be running riot around the apartment. Maybe he only does that around Shane, or maybe he only does that when he's not so tired.
Hayden nods and waves with one hand, soapy from the washing up. “Yeah, he was good.”
Briefly, he makes eye contact with Ilya. He doesn't say anything, but the look in Ilya's eyes is the most thankful one he's ever seen from him.
Shane kisses Ilya's cheek again and says something to him quietly that Hayden can't hear. Just as quietly, Ilya takes his pacifier out to respond, and then Shane nudges him over to the couch and he goes easily. Both of them have a language to themselves, Hayden realises.
“I owe you for that.” Shane says, wiping his palms down his trousers, when he comes over to stand by Hayden, who's now drying his hands off. “Really. Thank you.”
Shane's eyes are on Ilya as he settles back down against the couch, chewing ruthlessly on the nib of the pacifier, tapping away on his iPad. The blanket goes straight back to be tucked against his chest.
“I don't mind.” Hayden says it mostly to earn more best friend points from Shane, but it's honest. Ilya was surprisingly easy. At least he had someone there; Hayden might not like him, but he doesn't deserve to be crying on his own. “You don't owe me, man. As long as I can ask you some questions.”
Shane laughs and runs a damp hand through his hair, eyes finally flicking away from Ilya. Hayden wonders if they've said ‘I love you’ yet. Gay people do that, right? If they haven't, they must be fucking stupid, because they definitely love each other. My Shane his ass. Hayden's not about to take Shane away from him.
“Ask away.” Shane sighs.