Chapter Text
Cliff accepted his drink from the bartender and turned to face the room. He leaned back, resting his elbows against the bar and surveyed the crowd. Rozanov had disappeared somewhere. He'd said something about Scott Hunter night, and Cliff thought he'd been joking, but the guy was full of surprises, so maybe he had gone to the nightclub to check it out.
The party was waning anyway. That year's rookies were drunk, and one was upchucking into a potted plant in the corner of the room. Some of the old fucks were in a similar condition. The guys who brought their wives had all retired to their rooms to test the limits of alcohol on their ability to maintain an erection.
Cliff laughed to himself. He was getting bitter in his old age. He laughed again. Late twenties wasn't old in any other profession outside of sport. In the MLH, guys seemed to grow up quickly. Most of his teammates married young, and their wives started to pop out babies almost immediately. He guessed there was an urgency to it all; just one injury could prematurely end your career. Cliff understood the rush to get your life in order as soon as fucking possible. It just wasn't for him. He was happy to take his time and enjoy the ride.
That's why he and Rozy got on so well. Neither of them was in a hurry to settle down. Well, Roz had Montreal Jane, but that had been casual for years.
Suddenly aware of someone next to him, Cliff turned. Hayden Pike was the embodiment of the settle-down-and-start-a-family ethos of so many MLH players. They didn't socialize, had barely spoken to each other in their years of playing hockey, but he seemed to have something to say to Cliff now.
"Hey, Marleau, uh. I guess I wanted to apologize for laying into you at our last game," Hayden said, more to the floor than to Cliff's face.
"Don't worry about it."
Cliff meant it. He'd knocked the Metro's star player out onto the ice; Pike's anger was justified.
"No, I'm serious. Shane said it was a clean hit, and he doesn't hold a grudge, so neither should I. So, I'm sorry."
"It's fine. I felt bad about it. I was glad when Rozy told me that Hollander didn't blame me."
Rozanov had been weird when he got back from the hospital. Before he went, he'd been a tightly coiled spring, ready to unravel out of control. When he returned, the tension had gone, but it had been replaced by a new anxiety; one that furrowed Roz's brows and caused a confused half smile to cross his face whenever he was deep in thought. Which had been a lot recently.
Hayden nodded. "Is Rozanov around? I wanted to say I appreciated him going to see Shane. It was a cool thing to do."
"No. I think he went out clubbing with some of the guys. He's kind of an enigma." Cliff noticed Hayden's confused expression, so he added, "he's mysterious, you know?"
"Oh," Hayden said, understanding. "Yeah, Shane, too. He, uh. Well…"
He paused, weighing up his next move. Cliff decided to push him.
"What's up, Pike? You got a question?"
"Yeah. You must know the puck bunnies in Boston fairly well, right? Single guy like you, you're popular."
Cliff grinned. Yes, he knew many of those women very well. Biblically, even. "I know some of them."
"I guess they're all Raiders fans, right?"
"Yeah…"
"Would any of them be interested in a Metros player?"
Cliff frowned. "Aren't you married?"
Hayden's eyes flew wide. "I am. My wife is awesome. She's the best. I'm not asking for me." He paused and looked around. "Can you keep a secret?"
Cliff's brother attended seminary, but here Cliff was, preparing to take confession. "I can."
"It's Shane. Hollander." Pike leaned forward and lowered his voice. "He's got a girlfriend in Boston: Lily. I've seen some of their messages, and she knows hockey. Like, knows, knows hockey. I wondered if you knew her."
Huh.
He didn't know anyone called Lily, but now he was interested.
"You want a drink?" Cliff asked, already catching the bartender's attention.
"Sure. A beer, thanks."
Cliff ordered two beers and directed Hayden to a table in an almost deserted part of the function room.
"How long has Hollander been seeing this Lily?" Cliff asked as he sat down.
Hayden shrugged. "Ages. I think they met sometime around Shane's first All Stars week. They text a bunch, especially on Boston/Montreal game days."
Cliff took a long sip of beer. He had a long-held theory that he'd pretty much concluded, but he needed more information. Information that Hayden might have.
"Okay, since we're keeping secrets. Ilya has a Montreal girlfriend: Jane. They've been texting for about the same time as Shane and Lily, I think. Away games, he disappears afterwards to meet him. When we play you guys at home, he's unavailable a bunch, too. I don't suppose you know anyone called Jane? Someone who travels with you, maybe?"
Hayden paused, squinting his eyes as he tried to place the name. He shook his head. "Nope, sorry, not that I know of." A beat. "She travels? Like, he meets her in Boston?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Huh." Hayden frowned. "Now you mention it, Shane disappears early after we play Boston at home in the same way he does in Boston. And you definitely don't know a Lily?"
This was the confirmation Cliff needed to be sure that his theory was right. It looked like Pike was going to need Cliff to hold his hand and walk him through this, though.
"Is it possible that Jane is a fake name?" Cliff asked. "Lily, too?"
"I guess so. But that doesn't help us figure out who they are," Hayden said.
Cliff had a head start here. He liked to take crossword books on flights with him. Word puzzles came easily to him. Hayden, it seemed, wasn't wired quite the same way.
"Well, most aliases", —he noted Hayden's confusion— "fake names. Most are related in some way to the original name. Makes it easy to remember and not get mixed up. Sometimes they start with the same letter, or they use similar letters. Maybe they rhyme…"
He let that hang in the air, hoping it would nudge Hayden towards the truth. He wasn't sure why it was so important to get Hayden to understand this, except that Cliff had been carrying this for months now and he needed to share it with someone. Pike's reaction when Hollander had been injured reassured Cliff that he cared about Shane as much as Cliff cared about Ilya. Hayden would keep this secret.
Opposite him, Hayden silently mouthing the names 'Jane' and 'Lily', trying to decrypt their hidden meanings.
"I was thinking…" Cliff said gently, like Pike was a horse that could spook if he did this wrong. "That Jane rhymes with Shane."
"Shane…Jane…" Hayden whispered. "Shit, yeah. But why..?"
"And if you take the first letter off of Lily, you get—"
"—Ily."
"And add an 'A'…"
Hayden scowled. "Ily-ay"
Jesus. Cliff should have gone to the dentist; that would have been less painful. "Or, Ilya?"
"Oh." Hayden's eyes widened until they seemed like they'd pop out. "Oh, shit. You think...?"
Cliff nodded gravely.
Ilya had become a different person while the tabloids were obsessed with Shane Hollander and Rose Landry. He wasn't angry like he got when his brother was pissing him off, or terrifyingly focused like he got during the playoffs. This was different. He was hurt. Wounded and sad, and hiding it all behind a mask. After All Stars, it was like a switch had been flipped, and he turned into a more hopeful version of his old self. After his father's funeral, then Hollander's injury, Rozanov had been introspective, like his future wasn't how he's imagined it. It seemed like a heavy weight to carry, but Ilya held that burden like it was precious.
Cliff wished he'd share it, but Ilya was a private guy. Especially when it came to Jane.
There was no reason to be so cagey about a woman he liked, though. He wasn't cagey about anyone else. The guys knew about Svetlana, and that one woman in New York Rovanoz hooked up with during his first few years with the Raiders. Ilya was respectful about women, but he could kiss and tell. Unless Cliff asked him about Jane.
Hayden was still processing this. "Shane and Ilya? Why would..? I don't understand."
Cliff leaned forward, keeping his voice low. "Does Shane date a lot? Apart from Rose Landry, has he had a tonne of girlfriends?"
"No. It's something I've tried to talk to him about, but he shuts it down every time."
"Is it possible he's just not interested in women?"
"I guess." Pike wore a faraway expression. He was thinking hard. "I mean, I've seen him make out with women, and he's gone home with a few, but apart from Rose, it's definitely not a regular thing. Come to think of it, he kind of stopped that years ago, so… You think he's gay?"
Cliff shrugged. "I don't know him well enough to think anything. Rozy gets women a lot. Until recently. Like, he got home from All Stars and just wasn't interested in dating or hooking up with anyone. And—" He paused. "Is this a safe space?"
Hayden nodded. "Yeah, sure."
"I'm pretty sure Ilya is into men, too, you know. Like, bisexual?"
Hayden leaned back in his chair, forced backwards by the enormity of this revelation. "They hate each other."
Cliff smiled. "Do they?"
"Yes. The Metros and Raiders are old rivals."
"That's the teams, not the people."
"And Rozanov is an asshole."
Cliff couldn't refute that. "Sure, but have you ever considered that Hollander might like that about him? I've heard that Hollzy has a decent sense of humour, too."
"They did have wild chemistry in Tampa."
Hayden was coming around. Cliff had his confidante.
"If you choose to look, they've had wild chemistry for years, man."
"Why wouldn't Shane tell me?"
Cliff had a similar question at first, but, deep down, he already knew the answer.
"The MLH is hardly the most accepting place. You heard Scott Hunter tonight."
Hayden thought about that. Cliff could practically see the cogs turning in his brain. To be fair, it was a lot to take in.
"A tonne of those names get thrown around in the Metros locker room, those hydrophobic ones."
"Homophobic."
"Yeah. And I can't imagine the coaches would be cool with their captain fucking a rival, let alone a Raider."
"Right. It's the same for us. The team and coaches are old-school. And the league? Just look at the Pride nights. Some of our players complain about having to use rainbow tape for warmups; they bitch about 'bringing politics into the game' like sport isn't already fucking political." Cliff stopped himself mid-rant. This wasn't the time. "Sorry. All I'm saying is, I understand why they'd keep this quiet."
Pike nodded. "So what do we do now?"
"Honestly? Nothing. Not really."
"I can't do nothing."
Cliff sighed. "This isn't our secret, Pike, it's theirs. All we can do is make sure we're a safe person for them, and if they even want to come out to one of us, we support them."
"Maybe we can call out some of the anti-gay shit in the locker room, too? Like, make things easier for them in the meantime."
That. Was a good idea. Cliff didn't know Hayden could have those.
"I think that's a great idea."
"And, should we swap numbers?" Hayden suggested. "In case there's anything we can do to help them. I dunno, clear a path for them to see each other, that sort of thing."
Pike was on a roll.
Cliff took out his phone. "Sure. In honour of our friends, though, I'm saving you under a fake name."
Hayden snorted out a laugh. "Fine, but my wife'll kill me if I come back from this weekend with a mysterious woman's name in my phone, so you've got to pick a dude's name."
"You didn't bring your wife?"
"She's breastfeeding right now. Got a newborn."
"And you left her?"
"With her sister and brother-in-law. Honestly, I'm mostly here so I can get a couple of good nights' sleep, then I'll go back to night shifts with Amber."
"Amber is your wife?"
"Amber is my daughter. My wife is called Jackie."
"Oh, I think I did know that. Congrats on the new baby."
Cliff made a mental note to send the Pikes some baby Raiders merch when he got back to Boston. It's what Ilya would do.
They traded phones and typed in their own number. Cliff saved his name as 'Rocky'. When Pike handed his phone back, his number was saved as 'Hayley (Montreal)'.
"Rocky?"
"Yeah, like cliffs. On the seashore."
"I get it. Very clever. You got plans for the summer?"
Cliff shrugged. "I'm staying in Boston for training, then heading to France for a couple of weeks. You?"
"I'm going to take the kids out for some day trips to give Jackie some rest. The Science Centre and Planetarium, that kind of thing."
Kids? How many did he have?
Something occurred to Cliff. Ilya historically went back to Russia for the summer break, but after the death of his father, would he? There was nowhere else Cliff thought he'd go. Unless…
"Cool. What are Hollander's plans?"
"Oh, he's got a cottage in Lanaudière. He always goes there in the summer. He likes how isolated it is."
Interesting.
"Well," Cliff said, noticing that the bar had almost completely cleared while he and Hayden had been conspiring. "I should get some sleep. Early flight tomorrow."
Hayden blinked at the nearly empty room. "Yeah, me, too. Not that I have an early flight, but I should sleep." He stood up and extended a hand to Cliff, who shook it. "Thanks for sharing with me, Marleau."
"Thanks for letting me share."
Rozanov was on the same flight to Logan the next day. For someone who'd danced until the wee hours of the morning, he looked disgustingly fresh. Cliff had managed a good eight hours of sleep and still didn't look as good as Ilya.
"You're a fucking beautician," Cliff reminded him.
"Fuck off," Rozy laughed. "I just feel youthful because I was dancing with Scott Hunter last night. By comparison, I am baby."
Cliff decided to push his luck. "Danced with?"
"Oh, no, no, no. I do not think his very pretty boyfriend would have allowed it. I danced in his, what is word? Vicinity?"
Ah. Well, he could try again.
"You dance with anyone?"
Ilya nodded. "Of course. I am excellent dancer."
That was a shutdown. Cliff tried a different approach.
"Ready for off-season training? I plan to go hard."
Ilya grinned at the word 'hard'. He was a child. "I expect to go hard this summer, too."
"Fuck you."
"No, thanks. I have better taste."
Cliff didn't ask who. He already knew.
The flight attendant arrived with coffee and breakfast. They both flirted with her as she set their meals out and passed them extra milk and sugar.
Once she had moved onto the next row, Cliff continued. "Then what? Back to Russia?"
Ilya took a long time to answer. He carefully stirred his coffee and unwrapped his plastic cutlery before he looked at Cliff.
"Not Russia. I am never going back. I will spend my break elsewhere."
"Where?"
"You are very nosy today, Marleau."
"I'm just interested. I figured about Russia and want to make sure you're not just hanging about at your place feeling, sad about it."
"My place is great. It does not make me sad."
"No, I know." God, he was doing this all wrong. "Just. Don't isolate yourself this summer, okay?"
"I will not."