Chapter Text
Cliff Marleau is going to die. Hell, at this point the entire Boston Raiders hockey team is going to die.
And it’s Ilya Rozanov’s fault.
Look he loves the guy, he really does. He’s a great captain, a greater player, and a hell of a good time to party with. They’re friends! Close friends even, not that Roz seems to have many of those.
But holy. Fucking. Shit.
It started about a month ago, when they’d played Montreal. Roz was always…different when they played Montreal. Most people thought it was the rivalry, and hell maybe it was, the guy was competitive as shit, but Cliff’s pretty sure it’s less about Hollander and more about Montreal Jane. The girl Rozy “isn’t seeing” and “isn’t dating” and definitely hasn’t been texting for years in a way that Cliff is sure he thinks is subtle.
Ilya loves to go out, if Cliff’s not organizing the post game drinks and clubbing Roz definitely is, and he’s on more than one occasion seen the guy stay out all night, and then somehow still awake for their early morning flight looking only slightly worse for wear. He knew Ilya got laid too, I mean it was kind of…like actually news how much the guy got laid. Frankly, he doesn’t know how he does it.
But not in Montreal. At first, Roz had offered excuses, he “wasn’t feeling well” or “had to answer his emails” or whatever. Bullshit, as if any of that stopped Rozanov in any other city. Cliff’s pretty sure he’s the only guy alive for whom vodka helps a headache.
Eventually, he’d stopped even trying to offer excuses and started just saying “sorry, can’t.” And come on, what else could the guy consistently be doing in a city he didn’t live in after every Montreal game they had.
So anyways, it’s common knowledge that Roz has a girl. At this point, it’s even common knowledge her name is Jane, they’ve all seen her texting him at least once.
And yet every time Cliff has brought it up, which has been several times thank you very much, Rozy shrugs him off.
The first time, it was “Is just girl, you have met girl before yes Marleau?” The second time he’d pushed a little harder, mentioned how it seemed like maybe this Montreal girl was special, if he kept coming back and had been texting her, at least on and off, for years. That particular observation had earned him a very Russian eyeroll and a smack upside the head. “Jane does not want to date me, Marleau, stop thinking these thoughts you will waste all your brain cells.” And Marleau’s not a therapist, but he’s pretty sure he hadn’t missed the sadness in his friend’s eyes that time either.
So sure, okay, it’s complicated. Cleary. But Marleau’s not a moron, there is clearly something going on there. He’s seen his friend change over the years. He still goes out, but hardly ever goes home with anyone anymore. At first he thought he was just done with random hookups and had a girl in every city, but he’d roomed with Rozanov enough times to realize that no, the guy just…didn’t really do that anymore.
That plus constantly texting, hiding one’s phone, aggressive Russian denials and blushing Roz will deny on his deathbed means girlfriend.
Or well, it should mean girlfriend. Cliff doesn’t know what the problem is, and frankly it’s not his business, Roz can live his life even though he’s clearly hung up on this Jane and clearly needs to get his head out of his ass and do something about it.
But it maybe became his business about a month ago.
Look, Cliff doesn’t know what happened. All he knows is that Roz stormed into the locker room a hurricane of quiet fury the next day for practice, barely said a word, and then made them bag skate until Conners had actually thrown up.
At first, there were snickers. “Trouble in paradise Cap?”, or “what, did Jane finally wisen up eh?” It only took a few very pointed very soviet glares for those comments to stop just as aggressively as they’d started. And everyone’s had fights with their girlfriends, or situationships or whatever, but this feels…different. Maybe more serious.
Because it’s been a month, and Cliff (whose locker is right next to Rozy’s and therefore is afforded a great vantage point) hasn’t caught him texting Jane once. Even worse, he’s seen him open his phone a few times, open her message conversation, and then just…stop.
His friend is miserable. Like…miserable miserable, in a way Cliff has never seen him in all his years playing on the same team with the guy. He’s sullen and sad and his typical joking tone is almost entirely absent these days. The man is suffering. And clearly, either too stubborn or too stupid to just apologize for whatever he did and make up with Montreal Jane.
Unfortunately for the Raiders, Rozy has channeled all of this newfound pent up frustration about his not girlfriend (girlfriend) into making their lives miserable. Mr. out all night is suddenly giving lectures to the rookies about curfew, he’s monitoring stats, and making them run drills until their feet bleed. The worst part is it’s actually working, they’ve having, on paper, a great season. Some people say they’ve got a shot at the Cup.
If they don’t die first.
Roz is apparently super human because no matter how many bag skates or penalty drills or shot accuracy runs he makes them do the guy is only ever winded at most. Not ya know, puking into trashcans like the rest of them are these days.
And he’s sorry! Cliff knows he’s sorry because beneath all the fights and chirps Ilya is a great guy who actually isn’t an asshole, and obviously wouldn’t want to hurt anyone he cares about.
And he definitely, absolutely cares about Montreal Jane.
Which is how, as he calls Ilya an Uber late one Saturday night (or well, technically early one Sunday morning), he finds himself texting Jane’s number to his own phone and then very carefully deleting the text message off of Roz’s.
Look, the guy needs an intervention, clearly.
Because Marleau doesn’t know what’s going on, but if Rozy and Jane don’t kiss and make up, Boston's not going to have enough players left to hoist the Cup if by some miracle they do in fact win it.
Is Roz going to kill him? Absolutely. But he can’t keep seeing his friend this sad, and someone has to do something about this.
***
Marleau stares at the message thread. How uh - how does he even start this, ‘hi I’m Ilya’s friend please please take him back and forgive him because I have literally never seen him so miserable and also, you’re on the verge of being responsible for the death of one of hockey’s longest running franchises’? Yeah. Probably not. Simple it is, then.
Marleau
Hi um, you don’t know me, I’m Cliff - I work with Ilya
Work with, we’re uh, on the same team
Boston
The Raiders
The hockey team
Which you probably already know sorry
Smooth Cliff, real smooth he thinks to himself.
And somewhere, thousands of miles away, Shane Hollander nearly has a heart attack.
***
Oh fuck, oh fuck fuck fuck, oh fuck this is bad, this is so bad. How did Cliff Marleau know?! How did he have his number?! Had Rozanov told him? But he and Rozanov hadn’t spoken in like a month, not since…Shane squeezes his eyes shut at the memory, collapsing back into his couch as he frantically wills his heart to stop hammering so hard it feels like it may burst out of his chest.
He cannot, he will not have a panic attack right now. Not over Cliff fucking Marleau of all people.
In, two three four. Hold two three four, and ouuuut two three four. In, to three four…
It takes a few minutes, but he calms down.
He misses Rozanov. God, what he wouldn’t give right now to just curl up into the warmth of Rozanov’s side, like they had done in Boston. Before Shane ruined everything, just because he was too freaked out by Rozanov calling him…his name.
It sounds so stupid in retrospect. It is, in some respects. But in that moment, becoming Shane to Rozanov instead of just Hollander, it had felt like the world was crashing in on him. At the time, he thought it was because this was all getting too real.
Now, after a month of silence and an empty hole in his chest, he knows it’s because for a fleeting moment, he had liked it. Really liked it. Liked the casual domesticity of it all, liked being Shane and not Hollander and that was terrifying. Because no matter how much he wanted that, he couldn’t have it.
For a thousand reasons. Not just because it would mean he was gay, or because Rozanov was Russian which caused a thousand more problems, but because well…Rozanov didn’t want him that way. And even if he had, Shane had undoubtedly ruined that now. Had taken whatever might, in his wildest hopes have been burgeoning between them and squashed it like a bug. Not on purpose, but the damage was done.
And now, to top it all off, Cliff Marleau knew. Somehow.
Or, he reasoned, as his breathing continued to steady, maybe he didn’t. Maybe this was another Scott Hunter situation all over again, and he should learn from his mistakes, and think before dropping his gloves.
He’d said he didn’t know him. Which didn’t make any sense, of course they knew each other. Or well, they weren’t friends or anything, but Marleau definitely knew him well enough that he probably wouldn’t start a conversation with “you don’t know me”.
Okay so maybe he doesn’t know. Maybe this is a wrong number…yeah, that makes sense. Or just a misunderstanding. Yeah that has to be it.
He wants to call Rozanov. Wants to call and ask him why the fuck Marleau is texting him and if this is all some kind of prank or joke or just the world’s biggest miscommunication.
But he hasn’t spoken to Rozanov since…well, since everything. As far as anyone knows, he’s still dating Rose Landry for God’s sake. And yes that has been helpful in its own way, with coming to terms with…everything. But he doesn’t exactly think Rozanov would welcome a phone call from him right now.
And so he does the only thing he can think of, and texts back.
Jane
Um hi? Did Rozanov give you my number?
***
Oh my God she actually responded. Cliff kind of can’t believe it, I mean it’s been years and her existence in the Raider’s locker room is still spoken of like one talks about I don’t know…a cryptid. Jane, Rozy’s mysterious girl in Montreal who is real but no one has actually ever met, spoken to, or knows literally one single thing about.
He goes to respond so fast he drops his phone in his haste.
Marleau
Oh thank God, sorry I know I came on a bit weird there
Uh no, no Roz didn’t give me your number
I’m…pretty sure he’d kill me if he knew I had snuck it out of his phone and was texting his secret Montreal Jane right now
Jane
Oh…haha yeah Jane. That’s me.
Marleau
Okay listen I’m just gonna come out and say it
Please Jane, you have to help us
Jane
I’m sorry?
Marleau
Look I know it’s none of my business
I don’t know what happened between you and Rozy a month ago
But he’s killing us Jane
Jane
Um…what?
Marleau
I don’t know what he did a month ago, I just know he’s been pissed as fuck ever since and if I have to watch another rookie puke at practice because our captain is miserable it’s going to send me into an early retirement
Jane
So let me get this straight
Rozanov’s in the dog house and is taking it out on all of you
Marleau
Yes
Yes he is
Jane
And a bunch of professional hockey players can’t what, handle a few extra bag skates?
Marleau furrows his brow in confusion, bag skates? Wow, this chick really knows her hockey. I mean, that makes sense he supposes, anyone who’s been maybe sort of definitely dating Ilya Rozanov for God knows how long must know a fair amount about the sport.
Marleau
Jane name your price
What do you want, what can the Boston Raiders do for you
Jane
Haha so what, you’re trying to bribe me now?
Marleau
Yes
We are wealthy men
What do you need here
Spa day?
Horseback riding?
All expenses paid vacation?
One of us to kick Rozy in the dick for you?
Jane
Oh my God XD
Marleau
I cannot stress this enough
We are desperate Jane
Please, I will send you a video of us begging for your mercy on our knees
Whatever it takes to fix this for you and Roz
Jane’s typing bubble appears and then disappears three times, like she can’t figure out how to respond.
Marleau
Please Jane
Whatever it is, he’s sorry
I promise he’s sorry
Jane
…did he put you up to this?
Marleau
No
Jane
So let me get this straight, you snuck my number out of his phone to plead with me because you’re tired of extra conditioning? Did I get that right?
Marleau
Well…yes
But also, he’s my friend Jane
And the man is suffering
Whatever you’re doing, I have never ever seen Rozy this upset over a girl
Ever
Jane
Huh, really?
Marleau
Oh my God yes
Jane I promise you
Whatever you’ve heard, it’s not true
He doesn’t go out
Isn’t with other girls
Isn’t even smoking! I swear it
I don’t know what Roz did wrong, but he is more miserable than I have literally ever seen him
Jane
Okay well…why doesn’t he tell me that then, if he’s so sad
Marleau
Because he’s an idiot!
Surely in all these years you must have realized this
Jane
I don’t know Cliff, that sounds nice but, I don’t think Rozanov really wants to be with me. At least not seriously
Marleau
Respectfully
You are out of your mind
He is obsessed with you
And he has been moping for a month Jane
A. MONTH.
Five minutes go by, and Marleau starts to worry he’s lost his shot here.
Jane
So what um, what exactly do you want me to do?
Marleau
Just…please at least call him
Like I said, whatever it is he did
And to be clear - I am sure he is the one who fucked this up. He’s my best friend but I am team Montreal Jane all the way
He regrets it
Please Jane
You hold the fate of the Boston Raiders in your hands
Jane
Wow, didn’t know the Raiders were such little babies
Marleau
Excuse me?
Jane
Can’t even handle what, some penalty kill drills? Hollander’s going to eat you alive in Montreal.
Marleau
…of course you’re a Montreal fan.
Which okay I’m pretty sure you are dating my captain, so maybe calm down
Jane
We aren’t dating
Marleau
Not to pry here but um…why not? I mean like I said he’s obsessed with you
And I get it, I’m sure you read Twitter but I promise you Jane
He’s not running around with anyone
He is like, head over heels for you
Jane
It’s…complicated
Marleau
No I get that
And I’m sorry
Look if you’ve managed to wrangle Rozanov you’re clearly an all-powerful Goddess of a woman to whom we should all be bowing down
But if you’re worried that he’s not into you enough to want to date you
…I have three rookies currently puking at practice who would beg to differ
Jane
I - okay, I’ll call him. I mean probably after the All-Star break but
I will
Thanks Cliff, I mean it
You’re - that actually made me feel better
Rozanov’s well…Rozanov. But I miss him.
Marleau
HALLELUJAH
Oh my God thank you
Signed, the entire Boston Raiders’ hockey team