Chapter Text
Trey was pretty happy with his new summer gig. Sure, it was hard work being a mover, but his days usually ended early and they got some decent tips.
They had picked up today’s cargo from the airport early this morning and spent a few hours loading it onto the trucks. Then they drove out to the suburbs of Ottawa and pulled up in front of a gigantic house. Gerry, the head of their crew, let out a low whistle as he stepped out of the driver’s side of the truck. “Je-sus,” he said while looking around. “This place had to cost a couple million bucks at least.”
They all murmured their agreement and started pulling out the ramps on the back of each truck. Trey and the crew spent the rest of the morning unloading furniture and boxes into the different rooms. There was no sign of the owners, but he had learned earlier in the summer that this was typical. People who could afford to move across the country via private plane weren’t going to be hanging around while movers were unpacking their things.
At lunchtime, they all sat around the front yard and had their sandwiches, chips, and pop. Trey ran back inside to use the bathroom near the end of their break and got a little turned around trying to find it. He ended up opening a room that had floor to ceiling built ins along one wall. He walked closer and saw some of the shelves already had items set out to be displayed on them. He ran his finger over a few hockey pucks, a miniature Stanley Cup replica, and a framed photograph of two men standing on a deck.
He picked up the frame and almost dropped it. He looked at the framed photo and then back at the hockey memorabilia before realization clicked. “Holy shit,” he said out loud. He was in Ilya fucking Rozanov’s house. Rozanov, the famous center from Boston who had shocked the hockey world by announcing he was moving to Ottawa this season. He looked again at the photo and realized he also knew the other man. Well knew him as much as anyone could know the most famous hockey player in the entire league, Shane Hollander.
Rosanov and Hollander had their arms around each other and were grinning at the camera. Are they friends?, he thought to himself. From everything he’d ever seen he was pretty sure they hated each other. The ‘Rookie Rivals’ they’d been called when he was younger. But looking at this picture he didn’t see a rivalry at all. In fact, as he looked closer he thought they seemed to be leaning into each other. He also noticed that Hollander had his hand in Rozanov’s shorts pocket and that Rozanov had his hand placed at the base of Hollander’s neck.
He put the picture back down and closed the door behind him as he left. As a Centaurs fan, he was excited for the upcoming season with the superstar. He’d probably even tell his friends that he moved Rozanov into his house, but he’d leave out the details.