Archive of Our Own

June 2017 — Montreal

Jackie didn't even have the decency to act surprised when he told her. Hayden had burst into the kitchen just after 7 o'clock on Thursday morning, fresh off a red-eye, hungover but still buzzing with adrenaline, thrown his bag to the floor, and hissed,

"Shane's been sleeping with Rozanov!"

And she just gazed calmly at him over her tea, raised one eyebrow, and asked,

"Since when?"

"Summer before rookie year," Hayden said, eagerly anticipating the vindicating shock, the horror, the —

"That's longer than I thought," Jackie smirked.

… Patronizing amusement.

Hayden's vision started to sparkle in the corners, and Jackie pulled out a chair for him to collapse into, handing him his own mug. He sipped it, barely tasting the coffee, adrift.

"Can you drive the twins to camp today? Amber was up all night — the mommy books say it's sleep regression, but sometimes I think she's just on Australia time. She sleeps fine during the day."

"Of course, babe," Hayden replied, sipping his own coffee and gazing off into the middle distance like a recently returned war veteran. His head was spinning, his ears ringing, his sinuses still fucked from the plane even though he traveled for work nearly every damn week, you'd think they'd have gotten used to it by now —

"How did you find out? I saw the pictures. Looked like a fun night."

Hayden looked up at his wife, his first and only love, the woman he had decided to spend the rest of his life with the same night they'd met (and followed through with a few months later), like he was seeing her for the first time. Standing in their kitchen, surrounded by dirty dishes and cabinets painted by tiny fingerprints, lit by the first rays of sun streaming through the glass sliding door. Her hair falling out of a loose braid, wearing one of his ancient t-shirts just barely holding itself together at the seams, her eyes shadowed, face drawn with exhaustion. She was the most beautiful person he'd ever seen. And he had abandoned her to deal with four young children, one of whom barely even a person yet, for what? To sit in a cramped theater and applaud? To party with his boys? No, they both knew he'd only gone to Vegas because Shane had asked, and Hayden would do absolutely fucking anything for him. His best friend. His brother. The man who had stabbed him in the back, and then taken a potshot at his throat while he was at it.

"Eight years." Hayden barely recognized his own voice. "The whole time. Jacks, I —"

Her face softened, and she padded around the kitchen island in her slippers. Hayden found himself reaching for her before he'd made the conscious choice, his mug forgotten on the counter, and she just stood there, in the space between his legs, holding him. His arms tightened around her waist, and he burrowed his face into her chest, artless, clinging to her like she was the only thing keeping him harnessed to reality.

"You knew? How did you — I thought we — why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know, really. I had… notions. Suspicions, maybe. Nothing concrete. Nothing worth blowing up his entire life over. I love him too, you know."

"I know."

God, he'd been Hayden's best man. An uncle to their children. He'd been inside this house — in this kitchen — more often than Hayden's own parents.

The whole time.

All the careful diversions, the polite dissuasions, the little tick at the corner of his mouth when Hayden proposed double dates.

"I just want to see you happy," he'd told him. And Shane had promised he was. "I have an incredible team, we've won the Cup two years in a row — what more could I want?"

Rozanov, apparently.

Ilya fucking Rozanov, an absolute nightmare on the ice and not much better in person, whose eyes went cold and cruel the moment they met Hayden's, and who looked at Shane like…

Hayden hadn't thought Rozanov was even capable of looking at someone like that. Goddamn heart-eyes. Like they shared a secret language. Like they were locked in an inescapable orbit, two supernovas revolving around each other, blind to the rest of the galaxy. Fuck, how had he missed it? All these years? Had he ever really seen them interact before? Outside of a game? Hayden squeezed his eyes shut against the sudden onslaught of tears.

"Baby," Jackie murmured, and suddenly her fingers were brushing across his cheeks, lifting his chin so she could drop a kiss on his lips. He kissed her back, slow and smooth, steadying, grounding. When she pulled away, her thumb absently stroking his jaw, the words spilled out of him uncontrollably.

"I feel so fucking stupid. He's my best friend. I should have — I should have seen it. I should have known. He's a shitty liar, always has been, except — I guess, apparently fucking not, right? He's been lying to us as long as we've known him. And JJ was so fucking pissed and he was just staring at me with those stupid fucking doe eyes and I couldn't bring myself to yell, I had to — he looked like — he was so scared, Jackie. Like… like he thought we were gonna… and I… I didn't know what to do, I just —"

"OK, just… slow down. Walk me through what happened," Jackie said, achingly gentle, then glanced at the clock on the stove and amended herself, "Maybe don't slow down. But start at the beginning."

She was right; they didn't have much time. The baby could start crying at any minute, her mother Victoria would probably be there soon and she had a nose for drama like a fucking bloodhound, and Arthur would be awake at 7:15 on the dot, like always. A creature of habit, just like his —

Hayden bit back a curse and fell forward, letting his head rest on Jackie's stomach. She let him wallow for another minute before tugging his chin up again, a little sharply this time.

"Let's hear it, Pike."

With a strangled attempt at a deep breath, Hayden pulled himself together.

"After beer pong, I lost track of JJ and Shane. I wasn't worried at first — we were all pretty drunk, and there was so much going on… but eventually fucking Rozanov of all people asked me if I'd seen them, and I said no, and I realized maybe Shane was sick or something. And Rozanov said he knew where he was staying but he wouldn't tell me unless I took him with, which I thought was a little weird at the time but I didn't really think anything of it — I figured they're friends now, and — well anyway, we get up there and hear Shane and JJ yelling at each other in French, so of course we go in and then he… he told us he was gay. I handled that part pretty well, I think."

"I mean, it was certainly on the table. We've talked about it before."

"Yeah, exactly. But JJ… he was so angry, and I — I almost asked Rozanov to leave, it felt like something… private was happening, but… they started arguing in French again until I broke it up and that's when it all came out. And then he grabbed him —"

"Woah, wait, who grabbed who?"

"Shane. Grabbed Rozanov, I think he was having a panic attack or something, pulled him into the other room and closed the door. Told us he'd be there when we were ready to talk about it like adults."

Jackie let out a low whistle.

"Yeah. So obviously we felt like fucking jackasses. We stood in that bathroom for… I don't even know how long. Just trying to come to terms with it. JJ wanted to leave, and honestly I did too, but we had to make sure he knew we weren't gonna tell anyone. I mean, we fucking hate it, we don't understand it, and I don't really know how I'm supposed to look him in the eyes now, but…"

"He's your best friend."

Hayden made a vague noise of agreement and wondered absently if Jackie kept using the present tense on purpose.

"Anyway, we told him his secret was safe and… god, Jacks. I've never… I've never seen him… he just… dropped. Like his strings had been cut. And Rozanov caught him, easy as anything. I couldn't… He said it's not just sex. It's serious. He said they're in love."

"Do you believe him?"

"I…" Hayden let out a heavy sigh. "Fuck, I hate to say it. Yeah. I do."

Jackie didn't seem to have anything to say to that, which was rare. They just stood there in the kitchen, holding each other, until the spell was broken by the creak of a door and heeled footsteps across the foyer.

"Est-ce que j'interromps quelque chose (Am I interrupting something), Jacqueline?"

"Non, maman (No, mom)." Jackie rolled her eyes and pulled away, whispering in Hayden's ear, "Later."

He nodded and shook himself back into action, tucking the mess of last night safely into a little box in the back of his mind. He barely had himself sorted when Victoria entered the kitchen and paused in an almost comically elegant pose, like she was competing in a fucking pageant. Jackie shot Hayden a knowing look and turned to face her mother, mustering a tired smile.

"Merci d'être venue, maman. Hayden emmène les filles au camp, mais si tu pouvais traîner un peu avec Arthur pendant que j'essaie de dormir un peu, ce serait génial (Thanks for coming, mom. Hayden is taking the girls to camp, but if you could hang out with Arthur for a bit while I try to get some sleep, that would be amazing)."

"Bien sûr (Of course)," Victoria said smoothly, her eyes casting over her daughter in a way that somehow managed to be assessing without seeming judgemental. Then she turned to Hayden, and her gaze went cold.

"You're home early."

"I missed my family," Hayden said weakly. Victoria tutted.

"I told you it was a bad idea. Children need their father during a time like this, and you're barely home as it is."

"Maman, ce n'est pas utile (Mom, that is not helpful)," Jackie snapped. Like she could sense the rising tension from across the house, Amber suddenly hiccupped on the baby monitor. They all froze in place, until the baby cooed to herself and fell back asleep. Then Jackie went on in a hushed voice, "I'm going to nap while I can."

"Good idea," Hayden agreed, standing up to drop a kiss on her forehead. "I'll start breakfast. Yours will be under a cover when you're ready for it."

"Thanks." She pressed her lips to his collarbone, let him go, and padded across the room, squeezing her mom's forearm on her way out. Hayden took a deep breath and opened the fridge.

"Mémère (Grandma)!" Ruby squealed with delight, cannonballing into the room and hugging her legs. Jade was right behind her, and when Hayden closed the fridge, she spotted him, gasped, and threw herself at him. Hayden laughed, scooping her up, and tweaked the tip of her little nose.

"Hey you. Sleep well?"

"The baby was crying," she said with a little scowl.

"I know, I'm sorry. She's not trying to make you miserable, it's just hard being little."

"I'm not little," Jade said loftily. Then she wrinkled her nose. "Daddy, you're smelly."

Hayden scoffed dramatically.

"Damn, Jade, don't sugarcoat it. Tell me how you really feel."

"Jar!"

He put her down with an overdramatic groan, but winced when he caught a whiff of his own shirt.

"Yeah, okay. Victoria, could you —"

"I can drive the girls. I was planning to anyway."

"No, just start breakfast so I can shower really quick? I'll be right back."

"Have you slept?" Her tone was a fascinating mix of concern and disapproval.

"A little, on the plane," he lied through his teeth. But he was fine. Honestly, he didn't think he could fall asleep right now even if he tried.

"I'll handle the girls. You worry about Arthur," she said, leaving no room for argument, and turned back to the twins, who had been watching the conversation like the most interesting tennis match they'd ever seen. "Who wants Mémère's special pancakes!"

"Me! Me! Me!"

"No me!"

"Only polite little children deserve yummy pancakes," Victoria teased, and Hayden suppressed a grimace at the phrasing but he couldn't really argue as he fled to the bathroom, leaving them to it.

After a very brief, very cold shower, Hayden felt a little more like himself. At the same time, though, he could feel the exhaustion starting to set in, dragging at his muscles, slowing his reaction time badly enough that he almost shattered Jackie's nice conditioner bottle, barely catching it before it hit the tile. He only stepped into the bedroom for as long as it took to pull some sweats and a t-shirt out of the closet, careful not to wake Jackie, then slooowly closed the door behind himself and headed into the nursery to check on Arthur.

* * *

By 8:30, Victoria had both the girls packed and out the door. Hayden had lost the battle on driving, but at least he'd made their lunches and applied sunscreen. Arthur was a pretty chill little dude, all things considered — once it was just them in the living room, Hayden stretched out on the couch with the baby monitor on his chest and watched him play with his stuffed animals.

Maybe "play" was a strong word.

For whatever reason, Arthur had been born with the steel-trap mind of a 40 year old office worker. If Hayden thought there was a chance he could comprehend the idea of a computer, he'd have started him on excel spreadsheets months ago. His favorite way to interact with his stuffed animals was to categorize them by color, fur texture, species, and name (he wasn't fully solid on the alphabet yet, so it was mostly about how the names sounded). Sometimes Hayden worried about it, but today, he was so fucking grateful that at least one of their kids could be relied upon to entertain himself, he could have cried (he wouldn't, though; that would freak Arthur out).

All that to say, for the first time all morning, Hayden had a spare moment to check his phone. He immediately wished he hadn't.

Okay, Hayden had to step in. This was getting ridiculous.

Hayden's thumbs itched to defend Shane — as the messages scrolled past, he typed and retyped half a dozen versions of "fuck off," but he couldn't figure out a way to put it that wouldn't sound suspicious. Eventually the chat fizzled out, Drapeau and Comeau no doubt off to commiserate in their private messages. A flicker of shame ran through him as he realized the rookies had done a better job of sticking up for their captain than he had. JJ had been quiet too. Was he regretting their promise not to tell anyone? Arthur babbled a demand for attention, and Hayden looked over at him, admiring the perfect rows of stuffies.

"Wow, dude, nice work. By size, right? And weight! Nice touch."

Arthur smiled with satisfaction and moved on to his blocks. When Hayden turned back to his phone, JJ had texted him separately.

He fidgeted with his phone for a minute, until JJ got annoyed by the "typing" bubble and asked,

Shit, maybe he should call him. But he was afraid anything he said would just make things worse. It was all still so fresh — less than 12 hours ago, he'd been scheming with Jackie to get Shane and Rose Landry back together, and now…

Damn. Rose.

Did she know?

Was that why they had broken up?

When did they break up?

Actually, when did they even get together?

Hayden wracked his brains, trying to get the timeline straight. Shane had been fucking distraught about something that winter. Something he wouldn't talk about with anyone, not even Jackie. Playing like a fucking machine, of course, but… not himself. Ever since…

That afternoon game in Boston. Last November. Shane had gone out to meet Lily. And when he'd gotten back to the hotel…

Hayden had never seen him just lose it before. In all the years they'd known each other, through wins and losses and births and deaths, he'd been almost concerningly stoic. Hayden didn't think he'd ever even shed a tear. But in that hotel room, he'd folded like his limbs just couldn't hold him up anymore. And Rozanov hadn't been there to catch him that day.

Because Rozanov was the one that had broken him.

The evidence was incontrovertible. Shane had left for Lily's house in a great mood, and returned practically catatonic. For weeks after, he'd been withdrawn (even moreso than usual), snappish, barely even speaking outside of the bare minimum. Shane and Rose had met at JJ's party in December, and they must have been serious by January because she came to a game wearing his fucking jersey. And then…

Then, he just hadn't really heard much about her.

The all-star game had been towards the end of January, and whatever had happened with Rozanov, they must have gotten over it, because they were hanging all over each other that weekend. And ever since, they'd been nicer to each other in interviews. Shane had started sticking up for him in the locker room. They'd shown up at the same party, which just so happened to be held by Shane's ex-girlfriend. And Shane had told him that they were in love.

What on earth had Rozanov done to him?

Something bad enough to fuck him up for weeks, to push him into the arms of a rebound (and only Shane fucking Hollander's rebound would be an A-list celebrity), but forgiveable enough for them to be friends again by January and dating a few months later. Had he cheated? No, Shane never would have let that go. Lied? Maybe. Hayden wouldn't be surprised. He seemed the type. But still, that didn't seem like something Shane would tolerate. Had he… hurt him?

Hayden thought about the intensity of those piercing blue eyes.

"It is worth it. All of it."

He thought about the way Rozanov had held Shane upright, naturally, effortlessly, like he was made to do it.

He thought about the way Shane had let himself be held.

He pressed his lips together until he could feel the ridges of his own teeth fighting to push through.

And then the baby was crying and he was heating up a bottle and feeding her and changing the diaper and Arthur wanted a snack and there were dishes to wash and children to keep alive and the monumental decision he'd been working up to slipped away somehow until it was no more than a vague itch of something, tucked away in a bulging, overflowing box in the back of his mind.

July 2017 — Montreal

The last week of June and half of July passed in that blurry summer way, where sleepy days and sleepless nights all run together, and before Hayden knew it, it was the night (technically, according to the clock, the morning) before Shane was due back in Montreal to start training with him and JJ. No one knew what he got up to over the summers at his cottage — when they asked, he just shrugged and said it wasn't very interesting, so Hayden knew it must be something really fucking interesting — but he always came home with a sparkle in his eye and a certain looseness around his shoulders. Even though JJ griped about Shane locking himself away in his remote, mysterious shack in the middle of the woods for a month like a fucking serial killer instead of bopping around the city with him, Hayden couldn't begrudge him for wanting to spend some time enjoying the peace and quiet.

And if, by some miracle, he managed to forget, Amber's ear-splitting cries reminded him all over again.

"My turn," he grumbled reluctantly, hauling himself out of bed. His body protested, but he'd put it through worse, and when his feet landed on the floor, his legs held his weight. To her credit, Amber's diaper was slightly wet, although he was privately of the opinion that she probably could have held out a little longer, and once he'd changed it and fed her one of the priceless bags of breast milk from the freezer (heated exactly to body temperature by one of the many ingenious gadgets their parents were always foisting upon them), she graciously allowed herself to be put back to sleep.

It was too late for Hayden, though.

He'd always been a deep sleeper, which came in handy in shitty hotels and on long flights, but once he was up, he was Up. It was one of the first things he'd ever bonded with Shane over, actually — they'd run into each other outside the hotel in Vancouver on a cold, drizzly morning just after sunrise, when any sensible person would have been burrowing deeper under the sheets and dreading the imminent buzz of their alarm.

Thinking about Shane was making him anxious, and he figured he might as well use the rare uninterrupted time wisely, so Hayden loaded the dishwasher, then started picking up the toys strewn haphazardly around the living room. He'd gotten into kind of a flow state when he heard Jackie's soft voice behind him.

"You didn't come back to bed."

She was sleepy-eyed and a little pouty in a soft cotton night-dress, brown hair falling loose around her shoulders with a massive silk scrunchie around her wrist. Reflexively, Hayden dropped one of Arthur's stuffed animals (Harold, a blue whale, fittingly in the "large" size class) and crossed the room, pulling her with him onto the couch. She let him, giggling a little, landing in his lap with a satisfied sigh. They didn't need to talk to coordinate their position, settling into each other with an ease borne from years of practice, Hayden stretched out on his back with Jackie pressed against him, one long, slender leg stretched out over his own, his arm around her with one hand on her waist, her head nestling into his chest.

"I missed this," she admitted. Hayden felt his arm tighten around her, an instinctual reaction, pulling her closer, but she still wasn't close enough.

Fuck, he really had to get that vasectomy scheduled.

"Me too," he whispered back, pressing his lips to the crown of her head. "Sometimes I feel like a bad person for how much I want you all to myself."

Jackie groaned, low in her throat.

"You can't say romantic shit to me at 4am baby, that's how we get in trouble."

"Maybe I like trouble," he teased, his fingers tracing the curve of her ass. "And that wasn't even romantic. I'll show you romantic."

"Please don't. I'll have no choice but to fuck you, and neither of us have the energy to spare."

Laughter bubbled up in his chest, no less heartfelt even though it emerged as a soft huff.

"I love you."

"Love you back."

For a long minute, they just luxuriated in the peaceful stillness, the warm, familiar chemistry of their bodies, Jackie's cheek smooth against Hayden's bare chest.

"How are you feeling about your first training session back today?"

"Okay, I think. Shane hasn't texted, but you know how he is. The plan is set. He'll be there."

"Probably ten minutes early and passive aggressively checking his watch," Jackie agreed fondly.

An old, suspended resolution suddenly clicked, the progress bar finally hitting 100%.

"I want to invite Rozanov to dinner."

Jackie blinked up at him.

"Really?"

"I want you to meet him. I want… I want your opinion on him. And I have a lot of questions, but Shane's my best friend and when he's all in on something, there's no changing his mind. So instead of being pissy about it, I'm… being an adult."

"Good for you, Hayds," Jackie cooed, tilting her head up and pouting her lips, irresistible. He captured them with enthusiasm, and they took each others' minds off everything else for a little while.

* * *

Hayden was buzzing with nervous energy by 11:15, so even though their personal trainer wasn't expecting them until noon, Jackie kicked him out anyway.

"Shane'll probably be there by the time you get there anyway," she said, bouncing Amber on one hip, "and it'll be good to clear the air before you get started."

"You don't need my help with anything?" He asked, lingering in the foyer, one desperate, last-ditch effort. "I can still cancel."

"My mom is picking up the twins in a couple hours, and I can handle the littles." The end of that sentence ("I do this by myself all the time during the season") went unspoken, but it stung anyway. Hayden's stomach clenched with guilt.

"I'm gonna be home more this year," he promised.

Jackie's eyes softened.

"I knew the deal when I signed up," she reminded him. "We both wanted a big family. This is just… the transition stage. It'll get easier when they're older."

"I know, baby, but I —"

"We're being efficient. Got the hard part out of the way early. Four under five, and we never have to do it again."

Hayden winced. Four under five. Jesus.

"I swear to god, I'll get the snip by the end of the month."

"You better," she said dryly, kissed him, and sent him off with a playful smack on the butt.

* * *

When Hayden pulled into his usual spot in the parking lot of Mark's private gym just after 11:45, Shane's practical SUV was already stationed in the corner, and he caught a glimpse of his familiar silhouette through the window. Hayden let out a breath he hadn't even known he was holding and texted Jackie,

Part of Hayden was still terrified he'd fuck everything up and send Shane running for the hills as soon as he opened his mouth, but he figured he might as well get the awkward greeting over with before any other witnesses arrived, so he hauled his gym bag out of the back seat and made his way over. If it had been JJ, he would have just knocked on the window, but he didn't want to startle Shane. So instead, he walked around to the front of the car and waved at him through the windshield.

Shane didn't notice, because he was busy having a staring contest with Ilya Rozanov in the passenger seat.

"What the fuck?"

Rozanov's head snapped around like a goddamn terminator.

"Pike. You are early."

"Rozanov. You're… here?"

"I told you I should have given them a heads up," Shane muttered ruefully, and hopped out of the car. Despite Hayden's bewilderment, he couldn't help but notice that Shane looked… really good. His freckles were even more numerous than usual, the rich tan of his arms highlighted by his slightly oversized tank top. He was actually smiling, too — small, a little cautious, but it reached his eyes, and when Rozanov walked around the car to stand next to him, one hand grazing his wrist, Shane's shoulders dropped into the most relaxed posture Hayden had ever seen from him.

"Last summer, Mark said we could bring friends if we wanted to this year. 'The more the merrier.'"

"Yeah, because he thought we'd invite, like, a rookie or something. Not…" Hayden gestured vaguely at Rozanov, who didn't look like he needed any extra conditioning anyway. Jesus, the guy was fucking massive. His face was set in an impassive stare that Hayden would have been deeply intimidated by if he wasn't so confused.

"It's just for today. We have an ad campaign to shoot tomorrow, and it didn't make sense for Ilya to fly to Boston and back for like two days."

"But you've been at the cottage, right?"

"Yeah, we got back on Monday."

Hayden's eyebrows rose so high, they nearly touched his hairline.

"You… he…"

"You have not been to the cottage, Pike?" Rozanov asked in his patented mocking drawl, tipping his head to the side like a curious puppy.

Shane elbowed him in the stomach and shot him a glare out of the corner of his eye. Rozanov smirked, then turned to get their bags out of the trunk before Shane had even said a single word.

Holy shit, Rozanov was whipped. Well, Hayden had no room to judge.

"Sorry," he mumbled, suddenly feeling a sense of camaraderie with their mortal enemy. "It's great to see you, man. How have you been?"

Shane grinned at him — a real grin, bright and unselfconscious — and when he said,

"Really good."

Hayden believed him.

"So, tell me about Yuna's latest scheme. You and Rozanov are doing something together? How did that happen?"

"It's part of the CCM 100-year anniversary campaign," Shane explained as they headed into the little lobby area of the gym, Rozanov trailing in their wake, carrying his and Shane's bags like a dutiful pack-horse. "We did an ad for them… um…" He trailed off, the tips of his ears turning red. Hayden connected the dots. He remembered the guys giving Shane shit about it during his first year at the Voyageurs' training camp.

"Summer before your rookie year, wasn't it?" Hayden asked shrewdly. He was pretty sure he heard Rozanov snort behind them.

"My mom thought it would be a good opportunity to normalize our friendship," Shane went on, resolutely ignoring them both. "And their global headquarters are in Montreal, so we decided that instead of Ilya flying home out of Ottawa, we'd just drive down together and do the shoot before he has to go."

Hayden nodded, but he couldn't resist leaning in and asking quietly,

"And you couldn't just… leave him at your apartment for a couple hours?"

"I guess, but…" Shane gnawed on his lower lip, his gaze boring holes in Hayden's shoes. "We're not gonna have a lot of time together once he leaves for training, and then during the season... we're kind of trying to make the most of it while we can."

Despite himself, Hayden's heart twinged. Having to leave Jackie and the kids was undoubtedly the worst part of his job, and it was only ever for a few days at a time. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to not see them for weeks — months, sometimes, depending on how the schedule worked out. And Shane had been doing it for eight years. Weirdly, he didn't really feel angry anymore, when he thought about how long Shane had been keeping that secret. It mostly just made him sad.

Judging by the expression on JJ's face when he opened the front door and saw them all waiting, he wasn't quite there yet.

"C'est quoi ce bordel (What the fuck is this)?"

"It's just for the day," Shane replied, his jaw setting determinedly. "Mark said it was fine."

JJ met Hayden's eyes with a "can you believe this shit" look, and Hayden just shrugged, trying to convey empathy and resignation. JJ rolled his eyes and walked in, which was a great start. Then he jerked his chin in Rozanov's direction and snapped,

"Explain."

Which was less great.

"I didn't mean to ambush you," Shane said, eyebrows furrowing with concern, "but I was worried you guys wouldn't show if you knew Ilya was going to be here. The timing just worked out this way, we have a shoot tomorrow and —"

"Ilya?" JJ repeated disbelievingly.

Shane's patience was visibly wearing thin.

"What do you want me to call him, JJ?"

"Don't!" JJ suggested, only half kidding.

Rozanov, still glowering in the corner, crossed his arms, but didn't speak up in his own defense. Before anyone could officially start the fight or attempt to break it up, the gym door opened and their trainer practically bounced through. Hayden had been working with Mark ever since he'd started with the Voyageurs, and in the past few years, Shane and JJ had been coming to him too. He was middle-aged, with a shiny bald head that always seemed to be glistening with sweat, like he'd just finished a workout, even when the rest of him was bone dry, deeply tanned skin, and the most comically oversized muscles Hayden had ever seen on a guy that wasn't juiced to hell and back. His dark eyes glimmered with delight as they raked over each of them in turn, and his meaty hands rubbed together as he said in his usual booming voice,

"We have our work cut out for us this summer!"

"C'mon, coach, it's not that bad," JJ grumbled, his earlier bravado evaporating as he instinctively slipped into angsty teenager mode. "We've only been off for a couple months."

"When was the last time you ran more than a mile?"

JJ scratched the back of his neck and didn't make eye contact. Mark let out a satisfied humph and turned to Shane — and by extension Rozanov, who was lurking just behind him.

"Ah, my star student. And this must be Rozanov."

"Hello."

Rozanov raised one hand in an awkward wave. Hayden fought back hysterical laughter. Mark's assessing gaze swept over them all one last time — then he clapped his hands and announced,

"Shane, after that nasty collarbone injury last season, our main priority with you is to work on restoring mass and resilience in that shoulder. Hayden, the usual, but we'll start slow — you look like you haven't gotten a full night's rest in weeks. JJ, you're on cardio — I can see you've been lifting, but that won't help if you can't get your ass across the ice. Rozanov…"

"He's just here for today," Shane recited for the third time, "we have this photo shoot in the city tomorrow, so…"

"Okay," Mark said blankly, clearly not giving a shit. Shane nearly sagged with relief. "Well, we usually start with some benchmarks, so maybe having some real competition here will encourage you all to step it up a little." He turned around and led them through the doorway, then paused, whirling around with one accusing finger waggling at them indiscriminately, "But no showboating."

"Yes, coach," they chorused grimly, and trooped into the gym.

* * *

Hayden hated to admit it, but it had been a good idea for Shane to bring Rozanov. No one threw a punch all afternoon — actually, Rozanov had been on his very best behavior, aside from obnoxiously complimenting Shane's form every five minutes. Hayden had caught himself laughing at his antics more than a couple times. When Rozanov had insisted he couldn't possibly eat one of Shane's protein bars because they didn't fit his diet, and Shane's eyebrows had furrowed with genuine confusion until Rozanov revealed the diet in question was "only foods that don't taste like house paint," even JJ had cracked a smile. By the end of the day, they'd fallen into a reluctant ceasefire — everyone was too exhausted to even chirp at each other as they piled back into their cars.

"Hey, Jacks said you can all come for dinner if you want," Hayden remembered at the last minute.

"All of us?" Shane asked skeptically.

"Yeah, sure, if Rozanov doesn't mind the fact that the house looks like a cyclone blew through it. And someone has to pick up takeout on the way over."

"We will do it," Rozanov said immediately. When everyone else balked at his enthusiasm, he added, "Just makes sense. Shane has the most restrictions. If we bring food, everyone will eat."

Hayden would never get used to Rozanov calling his best friend by his first name, but he couldn't fault his logic.

"Sounds good. Call it like 7pm?" That gave them all an hour or so to shower and change first.

"I'll be there," JJ said reluctantly, and fistbumped Hayden with a look that said "I hope you know what you're doing" before heading out.

* * *

"You did WHAT?"

"You said it was fine!" Hayden scrambled to explain himself, genuinely debating the merits of throwing himself to his knees. "And we were all getting along so well, I thought — they're bringing food!"

"I said it was fine for Shane and JJ to come over! They've seen it all before, and the kids miss them. But Rozanov? Here? In, like, an hour? What were you thinking?"

"Baby I promise I'll do all the dishes, I'll vacuum, I'll put the kids to bed —"

Jackie sighed, pressing her fingertips to her face like she was trying to stave off a sinus headache.

"Go clean the kitchen. I'll try to unearth the real dishes from the basement."

"On it." Hayden said immediately, and booked it down the hall. The twins, coloring in the living room, looked up in mild curiosity as he passed, but lost interest when he reached for the dish gloves. He frantically scrubbed down the entire kitchen and tossed all the kids' plastic plates, cups, bowls, and cutlery into the sink to soak while Jackie fed the kids, since they weren't sure what Shane and Rozanov would bring and didn't want to keep them up too much later than their usual 7:00 bedtimes.

"You can say hi," Jackie promised when Arthur looked like he might burst into tears at the prospect of missing his Uncle Shane, "but he's back home now, so he can come over and hang out with you any time. It's just gonna be a bunch of boring adults talking tonight. I promise you won't miss out."

"Can Uncle Shane reeme story?"

"Of course, sweetheart."

Arthur nodded, satisfied.

"We can't play with Uncle JJ?" Ruby asked, pouting.

"You saw him literally last week." Hayden laughed. "I bet if you ask nicely he'll come back after camp tomorrow."

"Maybe we can go to the park again." Jade suggested, and the two of them put their heads together to brainstorm with all the gravitas of a quarterly board meeting.

By some miracle, Jackie and Hayden managed to wrangle everyone into pajamas and brush the twins' teeth with literally thirty seconds to spare before they heard the doorbell.

"Can we get it?" Ruby begged, Jade already running for the front door.

"Sure," Hayden granted generously from where he had crashed on the couch. Jackie emerged into the front room, having finally finished putting down the baby, just in time for the girls' delighted shrieks to wake her up again. Jackie groaned and headed back down the hall, unreceptive to the apologetic look Hayden was sending after her.

"What is wrong, Pike? You look like kicked puppy."

Hayden sighed, a headache already brewing in his temples as Rozanov paraded into the kitchen with a large paper bag. Shane had been waylaid in the foyer — when he finally appeared behind Rozanov, it was with a twin on either hip.

"I thought I told you both to stop growing," he scowled fondly at each of them in turn, making them giggle uncontrollably, as Rozanov deposited the bag on the counter with his usual flair. "Hey, JJ should be here soon. Better get the welcome party ready." With great care, he squatted down to place them on the floor, sending them back to the foyer. "Where's Arthur?"

"In his room. I told him he could come out and say hi, but…"

"It's bedtime," Shane smiled — this seemed to make perfect sense to him. "I'll go read him a story. Will you two be good here?"

"Of course," Ilya was busily unpacking containers of pasta, lasagna, salad, chicken, and — was that quinoa? When Shane hesitated, Ilya playfully shooed him off. "Go go go. A child needs you."

Hayden got up, set out some of the newly unearthed good plates, and was digging through the silverware drawer when Rozanov said quietly,

"Thank you for inviting us. It means a lot to Shane."

"I know." Hayden couldn't help the note of defensiveness in his voice — did Rozanov think he didn't know his own best friend? He crossed his arms. "Is this the part where I ask what your intentions are with him?"

Rozanov just laughed.

"Yuna already gave me this talk. I promise you will not be more intimidating."

"Yeah, probably not," Hayden admitted. "Still, I have questions. I'm sure JJ does too."

"Okay," Rozanov was still infuriatingly calm as he portioned some chicken and quinoa onto a plate, set it aside, then started into the lasagna. When Hayden didn't elaborate, he looked up impatiently. "Ask."

"What did you do to Shane in November?" Hayden blurted out.

For the first time that day, Rozanov seemed truly caught off guard.

"What?"

"He went out to see 'Lily,' and when he got back… he was devastated. He wasn't himself for weeks. Now that I know you're Lily, it must have been your fault. So. What did you do?"

Rozanov went very still. For a second, Hayden thought he was going to punch him. But then he just shook his head.

"Ask Shane."

Well that was a fucking cop-out. But before Hayden could press him, the twins were excitedly leading JJ into the room, and the moment passed.

"Hey, man." JJ said with a tight smile, nodding to Rozanov, as Ruby and Jade danced around his legs.

"Uncle JJ!"

"Uncle JJ! Faites attention à nous (Pay attention to us)!"

"Pleeeeeease it's important!"

His grin widened, seemingly despite his best efforts, as he looked down at them.

"Qu'est-ce que vous faites tous les deux petits poulets (What are you two little chickens up to)?"

"Daddy said we have to go to bed, but maybe you can come back tomorrow?"

"We have camp 'til three, but maybe after?"

"We can go to the park!"

"Or we can draw!"

"Do you remember when we drawed last time?"

"I remember," JJ chuckled fondly, and bent down to their level. "Tell you what — if you two go to bed right now, your papa and I will take you to see the new minion movie tomorrow."

"Gruuuuu!" Ruby cheered. Jade picked up the chant. JJ looked up at Hayden with an apologetic grimace. Hayden accepted his fate.

"Alright, you've said hi to everyone," he said, starting to shepherd them towards the hallway.

"Who's that?" Jade demanded, pointing at Rozanov.

For once, Rozanov, JJ, and Hayden were all in perfect agreement. Unfortunately, they had been united by having absolutely no idea what to say.

"Ilya." Rozanov replied. He seemed surprised at himself, like the word had been wrenched unwillingly from his throat. JJ bristled, but Hayden said casually,

"He's Shane's friend."

The twins seemed to accept that.

"Do you like Despicable Me?" Ruby asked, "Uncle Shane doesn't usually go to the movies, but maybe he'll come with us if his friend's there."

"Ah… we have plans tomorrow," Rozanov said, seeming genuinely apologetic. "Maybe next time."

"Did you see the first one?" Jade asked, completely ignoring Hayden's efforts to gently guide her out of the room.

"Of course," Rozanov said with a wide grin. Before Hayden could move, Rozanov had stepped around the kitchen island, taken each twin's hand in one of his own, and started walking them down the hallway, happily chatting about their favorite characters. Hayden felt like he'd crossed into a fucking parallel dimension. He had never seen the girls redirected so efficiently. Surely Rozanov's luck would run out any minute — but as Hayden waited in the mouth of the hallway, all he heard was Shane patiently reading aloud to Arthur in the left-side bedroom and the girls putting themselves to bed without a single complaint in the right-side one.

Jackie came out of the primary bedroom at the end of the hall looking exhausted but triumphant, and paused in the twins' doorway.

"Mama, come tuck us in!" Ruby demanded, "Uncle Ilya said —"

Whatever "Uncle Ilya" had said was lost to Hayden, because he was pretty sure his brain went completely offline for a moment. He turned to JJ, whose jaw had dropped, and mouthed,

"You heard it too?"

"Uncle Ilya?" JJ whispered back, "You gonna let that stand?"

Hayden was still frozen in place when Shane emerged from Arthur's room, closing the door gently behind himself, just in time to see Rozanov on his way out of the girls', and he froze too. Something flashed across his face that Hayden couldn't interpret as their eyes met, and then they just… stared at each other. For like, fifteen seconds. Until Shane turned his head away, noticed Hayden, and jumped nearly a foot in the air. Hayden scrambled for something to say and settled on,

"Dinner?"

With all the children happily in bed (at least for the time being), the adults reconvened around the kitchen counter. Hayden made sure Jackie took a big serving of her favorite pasta — she beamed at Shane and thanked him for remembering, making him blush — before scooping some onto his own plate. JJ took most of the remaining lasagna, and Shane just picked up the plate Rozanov had already prepared and carried it over to the dining room table. JJ was right behind him, and Hayden gave them a minute to catch up, lingering at Jackie's side and making a show of deliberating over the vegetables.

Jackie pinned Rozanov with one of her most terrifying looks — curiosity.

"You're good with kids."

"I have a niece."

Jackie made a polite noise of interest, prompting. A shadow flickered across Rozanov's eyes, but he went on, "My brother's daughter. In Russia."

"How old is she?"

"Five."

Rozanov was clearly uncomfortable with the subject — Hayden figured there must be bad blood with the brother — and Jackie took pity on him as they all headed to the table.

"So, how did you and Shane meet? At the draft?"

"Ah, no." Mischief sparkled across Rozanov's face, the tightness around his eyes and mouth relaxing. He sat down next to Shane. Hayden and Jackie sat on the opposite side, with JJ in the middle. "Couple years before, actually. We played each other at World Juniors, and Mr. Polite Canadian Boy came up to introduce himself."

"Aww, really?" Jackie leaned forward on her elbows, ever the hopeless romantic.

"He shook my hand," Rozanov recalled with impossible fondness, "and then we kicked Canada's ass."

"Fuck off!" Shane hissed.

"Was embarrassing, really. I felt bad. And you were so nice to me."

"We beat you the next year," Shane insisted, his brows scrunching up as his lips twisted into a look JJ and Hayden privately called his 'baby t-rex face.'

Rozanov just shrugged, then winced as Shane clearly kicked him under the table. He didn't seem truly angry, though; Hayden could see the smirk fighting to break through.

"So what was up with the staring contest?" JJ asked around a big bite of lasagna.

"Dude," Hayden muttered disapprovingly, and he rolled his eyes, chewed, and swallowed before continuing,

"In the hallway just now. That was fucking weird."

Shane and Rozanov shared a glance. Then Shane said, haltingly,

"Um… it's a long story."

"We have time." JJ gestured to the peaceful house.

"You were doing it in the car, too," Hayden pointed out. Jackie elbowed him in the ribs.

"Ow!" He yelped, "What? They were!"

"Raised in a barn, the both of you," she grumbled. "I wouldn't have agreed to this dinner if I knew you were just gonna interrogate them."

"Wasn't that the whole point?" JJ asked, seeming genuinely bemused.

"No, man," Hayden sighed, shaking his head, "we're being adults, remember? Getting to know our best friend's…" he had to choke the word out, "boyfriend."

JJ's mouth scrunched up like he'd eaten a lemon instead of delicious Italian food from the restaurant they went to at least once a month. Shane rolled his eyes.

"You can ask questions. Just, not about that. It's private."

"Uh huh." JJ sat back in his chair, crossing his arms.

"What happened in November?" Hayden asked Shane, "Rozanov wouldn't give me a straight answer."

"What did he say?"

"Just that I should ask you."

Shane nibbled on his lower lip, and the two of them shared another look. Something petty and jealous in Hayden was starting to resent those looks — it was like they were locking themselves into their own little world, leaving everyone else on the outside. Then Jackie elbowed him again, and when he glanced over at her, even though her face was currently conveying "don't be an asshole," he decided maybe he understood.

"It wasn't Ilya's fault," Shane said finally, in his quiet, careful voice, "At least, not totally his fault. He was trying to show me that we could be more than just… um, what it had been —"

"You can say 'sex,' Shane. We're not going to stone you in the town square," Jackie said dryly, and Rozanov let out a sharp huff of laughter.

Shane made a face and went on, primly, "It got too real, all at once, and I… realized I had feelings for him, real feelings, and then I freaked out."

"Probably neither of us handled it as well as we could have," Rozanov cut in, his hand finding and squezing Shane's where it rested on the table, "but we figured it out eventually."

"That is… not what I expected," JJ admitted. Rozanov's jaw tightened, but he didn't react. Shane's eyes narrowed, and he asked, deadly calm,

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just…" JJ flailed, appealing to Hayden, who reluctantly jumped in,

"You know, Rozanov has kind of a… reputation. We were just worried he, like, hurt you. Or something."

"I'm a grown man, Hayds," Shane said firmly, "I can handle myself."

"Don't act like you're too good for our protection," JJ muttered, stabbing at his lasagna. "If it weren't for us, Comeau would have run with his bullshit about that party."

"What bullshit?" Rozanov asked, deceptively casually, but Hayden could see something dangerous forming behind his eyes.

"It was nothing," Shane said quickly.

"Doesn't sound like nothing."

"Some of the veterans were being homophobic assholes," Hayden explained. "We handled it."

"You told them to fuck off and die alone?"

Hayden couldn't suppress his wince.

"We threw them off the trail."

"This is protection?"

"They were already suspicious," Hayden defended himself, "if we had pushed back too hard, they would have dug their heels in. It's over. They'll forget all about it by next season."

"And what about the next time?"

"What next time?" JJ asked.

"When the new ad comes out next year. When we get lunch together before a game. When they find out I was here, in Montreal, at your gym, in your home."

"They won't find out," Jackie assured him.

"Not good enough. Is Shane safe in that locker room?"

"He is," Hayden insisted. "He will be. We'll make sure of it."

"How?"

"Ilya!" Shane snapped. Rozanov's head whipped around, and whatever he saw in Shane's eyes made him back off. He swallowed hard, ate a bite of the vegetables, and sat back in his chair, but his eyes were still cold and furious.

"It's hockey," JJ attempted to explain, "you know how it goes. The guys — the older guys especially — are… you know. A product of the culture, or whatever. But they don't mean anything by it. When it comes down to it, they all know Shane is the only reason we made it to the playoffs at all this season — and our only chance at doing it again next season. They won't do anything to jeopardize that."

"If it makes you feel better, they said way worse shit to JJ when he first started," Hayden volunteered. Rozanov's jaw worked.

"It does not."

JJ lost his patience, throwing his napkin down.

"Laissez tomber< (Give it a rest), Rozanov. Like your team is any different."

Rozanov tilted his head, acknowledging the point.

"Maybe not. But they have respect. If they want to be assholes, they do not do it where I can see."

By the exhausted sigh Shane met that statement with, Hayden could tell this was a conversation they'd had many times.

"Alright, no more shop talk at the dinner table," Jackie stepped in, "I don't suppose any of you have been keeping up with the new season of Love Island?"

Hayden, JJ, and Shane shared a blank look. Suddenly sheepish, Rozanov raised one hand. Jackie squealed with delight and grabbed at him across the table. She maintained control of the conversation for the rest of the night, skillfully prying Shane back out of his shell and effortlessly endearing herself to Rozanov, without making JJ or Hayden feel left out. Hayden was more than happy to hand over the reins — clearly they were incapable of not butting heads when left to their own devices. At around 8:30, JJ headed out, reaffirming his promise to take the girls (and Hayden, apparently) to the movies the next day. A few minutes later, Amber started crying again.

"She's probably hungry," Jackie whispered in his ear, "I need to breastfeed anyway. I might call it a night, if you don't mind?"

"No worries, baby," he whispered back, pressing his lips to her cheek, "thank you for everything."

"We'll debrief later," she grinned, hugged Shane (and Rozanov, who seemed almost as weirded out as Hayden was) goodbye, and slipped away.

"We should probably go too," Shane said, getting to his feet. "Can I use your bathroom?"

"All yours, buddy," Hayden patted him on the back. And shit, maybe he hadn't thought this through, because now he was alone with Rozanov in the foyer and they were just kind of awkwardly trying not to stare at each other.

"Your wife is very beautiful," Rozanov offered. Hayden eyed him suspiciously, but it didn't seem like a chirp.

"I know," he replied, crossing his arms. "Jackie's the best."

"You are very lucky."

"She's way out of my league," Hayden admitted, sensing where this was going and figuring he might as well cut Rozanov off at the pass, "but she loves me anyway. So I do my best to make her happy."

Rozanov nodded. A small, knowing smile played at the corners of his lips.

"I know the feeling."

For the second time that day, Hayden felt an uncomfortable surge of kinship with Rozanov.

"I'm really trying not to get into a pissing contest with you," he said, lowering his voice like Shane might be lurking around the corner, "We're on the same side at the end of the day. The more people that love him, the better."

"Yes," Rozanov agreed quietly. Then, smirking, he added, "Besides, there is no point. I would win. Everyone knows I am best pisser."

Hayden barked out a startled laugh.

"What — that's not a thing!"

"You wouldn't know," Rozanov said loftily, "I am world-renowned. Award-winning."

"You are so full of shit," Hayden insisted, but he realized he was grinning. "Listen…" He grabbed a pen and post-it note off the side table and scribbled down his own number before his temporary burst of insanity could evaporate, "if you have concerns about the team, if you hear anything… text me. I'll deal with it. I promise."

Rozanov examined the note like he was worried it might have been poisoned, but he took it and slipped it into his pocket.

"Thank you, Pike. You are… not so bad. Maybe not 15th best Voyageur. 10th, 8th even. On a good day."

Hayden realized that was the closest thing to a compliment Rozanov would ever allow himself to give him and, with a Herculean act of will, let it go.

Shane padded into the front hall and toed on his sneakers.

"Thanks for having us, Hayds," he said with a small smile.

"'Course," Hayden said gruffly, "you're always welcome here, Shane. You know that."

Shane ducked his head in acknowledgement, the tips of his ears heating a little.

"I'll see you at training on Friday?"

"Absolutely."

As if the day hadn't been crazy enough already, Rozanov stretched out his hand. Hayden shook it. Shane beamed at them both like they were signing some kind of international peace accord. Then, Hayden walked them out, leaning against the door frame as they traipsed down the driveway. Just before they separated to get into the car, Shane grabbed Rozanov's hand and squeezed it. His face, illuminated by the porch light, was completely unguarded, so helplessly adoring, Hayden felt like he was intruding. He looked away, closed the door gently, and went to clear the table.

Jackie was still awake when he finally crawled into bed, immediately burrowing into his arms.

"What do you think?" Hayden breathed into the smooth skin of her neck.

"It's real," Jackie whispered back, her breath warm against the shell of his ear. "But I think you already know that."

"Yeah," Hayden sighed reluctantly. "Just… ugh, why couldn't it be anyone else? Literally anyone?"

"I guess we shouldn't really be surprised. Shane is… one of a kind. Who else could possibly be his equal?"

Hayden nodded, lips twisting ruefully.

"I just want Shane to be happy."

"I know, baby."

They were quiet for a little while, just holding each other.

"It was weird, though, right? The way they were staring at each other?"

Jackie hummed thoughtfully.

"I dunno. It was kinda sweet."

Hayden frowned.

"They have to be more careful about that. People are gonna notice."

"Good thing Shane has you looking out for him," Jackie murmured, pressing her lips to his cheek.

"And you. And JJ."

"And Rozanov now."

Hayden grimaced, but didn't argue. Gradually, Jackie's breathing evened out, and Hayden let himself be lulled into sleep by the warm, familiar weight of her body against his, the drone of Amber's white noise machine, and his own bone-deep exhaustion, pulling him under.

* * *

When Hayden checked his phone the next morning, there was a text message waiting for him.