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“Holy shit Roz,” Marlow whistled as the captain took his shirt off. “Is your Montreal girl a vampire or something?”
The rest of the locker room turned to whistle and cheer at the hickeys and bites littered down his chest and shoulders. Including one that sat just high enough on the side of his neck it might peek above his jersey and pads if he moved wrong.
Ilya gave his boys a smug look, wondering how they'd react if they knew exactly WHO had given him the marks.
“She is ah… possessive? Likes to mark her territory, yes? But she has to keep nails short for work,” The blonde pouted dramatically.
Not like it was unusual for him to show up with scratches down his back from women, but even if he wanted to, Shane's nails were always too short and neat.
Connors snorted and offered his captain a smirk. “She knows she's gonna have to share again now summer’s done right?”
Ilya opened his mouth but Marlow beat him to it, “Montreal Jane? She should, after all these years.”
“Ah,” Their captain looked a little sheepish. “I am sick of sharing my Jane and she is sick of sharing me.”
The room was dead silent, until Marlow let out a booming laugh. “I thought Russians didn’t blush Roz? So full of shit. Knew she had you wrapped around her little finger. When are we meeting her? When’s the wedding?” He teased the blonde.
For some reason that made Ilya pale, and then redden, making Marlow wish he could read thoughts. In Russian.
“Nooo,” Ilya replied, dramatically clutching at his chest. “Never! I just get Jane to myself and you want me to share? No!”
There was plenty of teasing and playful whistles as everyone moved onto their next victim. Marlow’s gaze kept flicking to Roz though, he definitely had questions.
OOOOO
Cliff managed to hold out until they were leaving after practice. He wrapped an arm around Rozanov’s shoulders as they headed towards the carpark. “Let’s grab dinner. We can catch up on the summer.”
“Catch up?” Ilya scoffed but didn’t pull away. “We texted yesterday.”
The grin Marlow offered was almost sharklike. “And yet you didn’t tell me anything about locking down your Montreal Jane. Come on Rozzy, your girl can wait a few hours while we talk. You gotta eat anyway, and I KNOW you haven’t had a shitty diner burger all summer.”
“Jane made me burgers, much better than shitty diner burger,” His captain disagreed playfully.
“Pizza then,” He shot back in exasperation.
“Fine,” Ilya sighed at last. “From pizza near your place, and we eat at your apartment.”
Just in case. He really didn’t need anyone overhearing this conversation.
“Fine, see you at mine. Must be fucking serious,” Marlow muttered as he nudged his friend towards his sports car and jumped in his own.
OOOOO
“So,” Marlow grinned across the high end kitchen counter his apartment had come with, as he grabbed his friend a beer. “You and Jane are finally getting serious huh? After all these years. How did THAT happen?”
To his absolute delight, Roz blushed again.
“Jane and I… we spent two weeks at her… house together over summer,” He explained. “You know, talking, fucking-”
“Isn’t that what you’ve been doing for the last… how many years now?” Marlow interrupted teasingly.
“Ah, the fucking? Yes. The talking? Not so much,” Ilya grinned.
The brunette chuckled and shook his head, “Jesus Roz. You’ve spent what… years sexting and finally decided to have a conversation?”
He looked a little sheepish as he shook his head. “We have conversations… but mostly about sex,” He admitted.
“And when did you realise you were in love with her?” Cliff smirked as his friend choked on his beer and glared.
Ilya took a few moments to cough and clear his throat before he could answer. “Almost… a year now?”
Then it was the other Boston player’s turn to choke, his next question was delayed by the pizza, but only long enough for them to settle on the couch with their dinner.
“Fuck. Is that why you were so pissed last year? Finally figured out you were in love?” Cliff asked around a slice of pizza.
“Something like this,” Ilya winced at the reminder. “Jane… she was not ready. We stopped seeing each other.”
“And she what, took you back after watching you in the All-Stars game?” Marlow huffed and shook his head, “Got all hot and bothered watching you and Hollander?”
“Something like this,” He agreed again with a smirk.
“Jesus Roz. I could have told you years ago you were in love with the woman,” Cliff commented, shaking his head in disbelief. “So what’s next? Is she moving here?”
Ilya’s face fell and Marlow fell with him. “Shit man, distance still? That sucks.”
The Russian man shook his head, toying with his pizza. “This is… you cannot tell anyone Marley. Is big top secret okay?” He asked, fixing his blue eyes on his best friend.
The intensity surprised him a little, Roz wasn’t usually known for being serious about his relationships, but then, Jane had always been different.
“Yeah brother, I promise,” He nodded quickly in agreement.
“This is last season with Bears,” Ilya said sadly. He ignored the sharp intake of breath to continue. “Jane can’t move, her job, her family, all is in Canada. For me is simpler, my family is dead, or in Russia, my contract is almost up, there is two teams near Montreal, one with space in their cap. Maybe I can finally get rid of Russian passport.”
Cliff let out a long breath, “Fuck man. You really… fuck. You’re gonna be a fucking Centaur?”
Ilya shrugged with feigned nonchalance, “It makes sense, I already have head of man and am hung like horse. I should fit right in yes?”
His friend burst out laughing and shook his head at the other man. “You’re not still trying to convince her it’s nine inches right brother? Surely you’ve fucked and she’s found out by now.”
“She is VERY aware of length. Jane has done plenty of hands on measuring and she’s quite happy with it,” Ilya smirked. “And I can finally go back to proper metric system instead of bullshit American measurements.”
Marlow gasped in dramatic offense, “You can pry my inches from my cold dead hands.”
“Is this what you say to last girlfriend? Is why she leaves you?” Rozanov teased.
“Fuck you Rozzy,” He shot back, rolling his eyes before he grew serious again. “But… you’re really doing this huh? Moving country to be with your girl?”
Ilya hesitated only a slight moment before he nodded. “I love Bears, but Jane is special. I want to marry hi-her. One day.”
For the briefest of moments Ilya’s face was covered with a sort of… sad longing. Cliff wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, and he definitely wouldn’t have thought to ask if Ilya hadn’t slipped that little bit. But he had, and Marlow didn’t exactly have a brain to mouth filter.
“Roz, buddy, you don’t have to answer this but… is she a he? Is Jane a guy? It’s cool if she is,” He shrugged. “People are people and hot is hot, no judgement here.”
Rozanov hesitated again, and it was longer this time before he nodded.
Cliff’s grin was probably a little too excited as he reached over to smack his friend cheerfully on the knee. “Fuck yeah man. Good for you. Is he hot? Fuck, he’s probably not actually Jane is he? Unless he is? That’s cool too.”
Ilya huffed out a chuckle, looking less and less tense with Marlow’s reaction. “Yes, he is very hot. Second hottest man alive. No, Jane is not real name, we thought it is… safer to use girl’s names. Less questions.”
“Aww thanks buddy, don’t worry, I’m sure you’re a close third,” Cliff smirked. He nodded in agreement, “Yeah, you’re probably right. And shit, yeah, if you want to marry a guy, Canada is probably WAYYY safer. Even on a shit team.”
“You will see, Centaurs will make playoffs in three to five years tops,” He told his teammate firmly. “And obviously I am hottest. You are maybe… fifth. Seventh maybe.”
“Be serious Rozzy, there’s no way,” Marlow rolled his eyes. “And SEVENTH? No way. Top three easy.”
He shrugged easily, a lazy smirk on his lips. “I did it for Bears, I will do it for Centaurs. Just might take longer with polite, boring Canadians. And I will be busy fucking Shane, might slow me down.”
Cliff watched the horror dawn across his friend’s face in real time.
“Oh is that his name? Like Shane-”
This time his brain very helpfully put the pieces together.
Ilya throwing his water bottle across the room at the sight of Shane Hollander and Rose Landry together.
The period of hell that began roughly around when Hollander and Landry started dating.
That kiss on the ice at All-Stars, how much happier he’d been afterwards.
Jane was in Montreal, Hollander’s home town.
Jane-Shane.
It felt like working out the answer to a maths problem when you were reading the answers in the back of the book.
Like he got there, but only after someone else had done all the working out for him.
Fuck. How panicked and in shock Ilya had been when… fuck.
“I knocked out your boyfriend,” Cliff hissed, wincing at the memory. “Fuck. Shit, that wasn’t… you know I didn’t…”
His friend let out a long breath. “Is fine Marley, was not your fault. Shane does not blame you, was clean hit.” His accent seemed to thicken with the anxiety of the accidental revelation. “He was mostly mad you messed up our plans to meet for mindblowing sex after game.”
Marlow choked, then something seemed to occur to him and his eyes flicked to the visible marks on Ilya’s neck. “Fucking hell, HOLLANDER was the possessive fucker who gave you those marks? Canada’s sweet golden boy, Shane Hollander, mauled you like a chew toy?!”
At that, Ilya laughed. Long and hard and completely without restraint. By the time he finally managed to stop, he was clutching at his stomach.
“You must keep secret but, yes. We were never allowed to be… possessive. Not when was not serious. Now Hollander doesn’t have to share, he wanted to… what is phrase, stake his claim?” The blonde explained with a wolfish grin.
Cliff let out an impressed whistle. “Jesus Rozzy, he sure did that. I think those might be visible from space.”
Ilya looked proud, and a little smug, “Hollander is very happy to have world’s best hockey player to himself.”
“What, he doesn’t have to share himself with you?” Marlow teased.
“Marley! This is no way to speak to your captain,” He gasped indignantly. “I got you Stanley cup!”
“Well yeah, but Hollander’s got his team the cup twice,” Cliff grinned playfully.
His expression grew serious after a few moments of thought. “I can see why you’re moving, you’d be crazy not to lock down Shane Fucking Hollander,” Marlow shook his head in disbelief. “Jesus. You don’t do things by half eh?”
“Yes, this is hope. Once is safe, I will marry Hollander for Canadian passport and we will breed team of hockey superstars,” Ilya explained in mock seriousness.
“Brother, I don’t like your chances, but I’m sure you’ll have fun trying,” Cliff laughed and patted his shoulder cheerfully. “Fuck man. Shane Fucking Hollander. Fuck.”
“Shane Fucking Hollander,” Roz agreed with a soft smile.
“I’m happy for you man,” Marlow told him honestly, squeezing his shoulder. “And I’ll keep it quiet. But you know what this means?”
“What?” Ilya frowned in question.
“You’ve got one last season to match him for cups.” The dark haired man teased.
“I will get Centaurs to playoffs,” He said dismissively, “Is not end of world.”
“You said three to five years. Who KNOWS how many cups Hollander could get in that time. Nah man, the Bears are ready now. Then you can go into your marriage with an equal number of cups. I hear it’s the cornerstone of any lasting relationship,” Marlow informed him with a grin.
“Does this mean you are going to date Voyageur too? Or maybe Admiral, they can match your one cup. Hunter has boyfriend already, but Vaughn is pretty,” Ilya mused.
Cliff burst out laughing. “Fuck you. We take it this year and I’d have to leave him for a Voyageur. That’s not a good start to a relationship.”
“But Marley, equal number of cups is cornerstone of any lasting relationship,” Rozanov earnestly fed his own words back to him. “Any Voyageur but Pike. Or Hollander of course, Hollander is mine.”
“You and fucking Pike man.” Marlow shook his head with a chuckle. “Well, one more season. You and me brother. We’ll see if I have to fuck an Admiral or a Voyageur, right?”
Ilya nodded seriously. “Or wait three to five years and fuck Centaur.”
“In your fucking dreams.”