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Rozanov had been in a funk for weeks now. And funk was putting it lightly according to Marleau. Truthfully, Roz had alternated between despondent and enraged on the ice and almost always quietly withdrawn off of it. Marleau wasn’t sure what had happened to Roz, but he needed to find out and fix it. The team needed their captain back. He needed his best friend back.
Their next game was away in Montreal against the Voyagers. Usually, Rozanov was buzzing with excitement for their games against the Voyagers and he seemed to play his best against them. But again, he was quiet on the flight up, quiet checking into the hotel, too quiet dressing in the locker room.
His game suffered and they lost. He barely chirped anyone and only scored one goal. If Marleau thought Roz was down before the game, he was downright depressed afterwards. The team decided to drown their sorrows with karaoke and Rozanov went along with the group.
Beer and liquor flowed, fried food covered the table, and horrible singing assaulted the air. Everyone was some level of drunk, but Rozanov still hadn’t cheered up.
Marleau was going to try to fix this. “Rozy, you need to get laid! Is Montreal Jane busy tonight?”
If asked under oath, Marleau would still lie and say he didn’t see the hurt and glimmer of tears in Rozanov’s eyes at the mention of Jane. “I do not know. She is not talking to me.”
“Then we can go to a club and find someone for you!”
“No, Marly, I do not want to find a random girl at a club.”
“Then call Jane! I’m sure whatever you did to piss her off can be fixed.”
“Marleau, Jane does not want to talk to me.”
He gave Rozanov a long look, deciding how far he wanted to push his friend and let it drop.
“Rozy, you’re up next!” Carters yelled over the noise of the room.
Marleau watched as Roz chose Lady Gaga’s Bad Romance and sang it like a man mourning his spouse of fifty years. Quickly coming up with a plan, Marleau pulled out his phone and took a video of Rozanov… singing. Next, he grabbed Roz’s unlocked phone from the table and went to the contacts. He quickly found Jane’s number and typed it into his phone before putting the phone back on the table.
Marleau immediately hated that he sent so many texts back to back. He didn't want to seem desperate, but he kind of was. Jane didn’t reply for several very long minutes that felt like an eternity.
The intense curiosity of what secret Roz and Jane could have was burning Marleau’s brain. He had an opportunity to meet Jane and finally confirm she was a real person, maybe even find out a way to get her and Roz back together.
Surprisingly, it didn’t take too much to convince Rozanov it was time to leave. He thanked whatever higher power convinced him he should get a rental this trip as he helped Roz into the passenger seat before going around to the driver’s side. He input the address Jane had sent into the GPS and followed the directions. He ignored Rozanov’s questions, not wanting to freak the man out unnecessarily.
Marleau pulled up to the building in a dim, but not entirely creepy alley and sent a text as he got out to help Roz.
A door opened a moment later, spilling light into the alley and Marleau stood frozen, sure his mind was playing tricks on him.
“What. The. Fuck.” Marleau’s brain was exploding internally, maybe externally too, he couldn’t be sure. The only thing he knew was that Shane Hollander was standing in the open doorway in sweatpants and a cozy Voyagers hoodie staring at them.
“Come on, get in here,” Hollander hissed at Marleau and Rozanov, motioning them both to the door.
If Rozanov had needed major help walking, Marleau would have been useless. He could barely put one foot in front of the other as the pair walked towards Shane Hollander when he was supposed to be meeting Jane. Oh shit, Shane and Jane…
Finally within reaching distance, Rozanov launched himself towards Hollander, wrapping him in a tight hug. “Solnyshko! I’ve missed you!”
Hollander extricated himself from Rozanov to turn a hard stare to the other Bears player.
“If you ever breathe a single word of this to anyone, I’ll make sure I do everything I legally and illegally can to destroy your life. Is that clear, Marleau?”
“Yeah, of course, Hollander. I won’t say anything to anyone, ever. I’ll take this to my grave.”
Evaluating the sincerity of Marleau’s assurance for a moment, Hollander must have seen what he needed to and nodded once.
“Ok, help me get him upstairs and I’ll take care of him.”
Hollander wrapped an arm around Rozanov’s waist and started pulling him up the stairs. Marley kind of hovered behind them, more to make sure they didn’t fall rather than helping them up the stairs. They got up the two flights of stairs and into Hollander’s apartment. Marleau looked around a little from the front entrance as Hollander got Rozanov settled on the couch and came back.
“What time are the buses leaving the hotel tomorrow?”
“Not until nine.”
“Ok, I’ll send him back in an uber before then.”
Marleau nodded, but hesitated a beat, a multitude of questions swirling in his head. Shane sighed, dropped his head, and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Two questions. Two. Go.”
He considered for a moment, sifting through all the questions he could think of.
“I only need one. Do you love him?”
Hollander looked surprised, like he didn’t expect anything like that to be what Marleau chose to ask. He glanced back towards Rozanov on the couch who had closed his eyes and might be asleep. Meeting Marleau’s gaze, he replied softly, “Yes, I do.”
“But you haven’t told him yet.” A statement, not a question.
“No, I haven’t. Things have been…fuck.” Hollander cut himself off with a huff and crossed his arms across his chest. “Look, seriously, this stays between us, but neither of us have anyone to talk to. Things have been off and on for years and things were starting to feel different and it got intense and I ran. That’s why Ilya’s been like this. But I’m going to make it right, I promise.”
Marleau nodded, convinced of Hollander’s sincerity. “Good. I don’t like seeing my best friend depressed all the time. And he loves you too, by the way, even if he won’t admit it easily.”
“Yeah, I was pretty sure he did,” Hollander said with a soft smile.
“Ok, right, so I’ll leave Roz to you. Take good care of him, please?”
“Of course. See you next month at the next game.”
“Yeah, you too.”
And with that, Marleau walked back down the two flights of stairs and climbed back into the car. He stared vacantly out the windshield for a few long moments trying to process the last 45 minutes. “What the actual fuck!”
~
Back in the apartment, Shane closed the door and went to join Ilya on the couch. His eyes were still closed and his breathing was even. Shane let himself appreciate Ilya’s soft features before waking the Russian.
He ran his fingers through Ilya’s curls, the man’s head immediately trying to follow the comforting touch and nuzzle into the hand. Shane let him and caressed Ilya’s cheek instead.
“Ilya, come on, I need you to wake up. You need water before we go to bed.”
“Mmm,” Ilya murmured, not waking up yet.
“Ilya, come to bed with me.”
Ilya cracked his eyes open, locking onto Shane’s soft gaze. “Ok, moya lyubov.”
Shane pulled Ilya up with him and led him by the hand down the hall into his bedroom. Ilya sat on the edge of the bed and watched Shane as he pulled out a t-shirt and pair of sleep pants and handed them to Ilya.
“Get changed, I’ll be right back.”
A minute later, Shane returned with a bottle of water and two pain relievers and handed them to Ilya after he finished pulling on Shane’s soft shirt. He thanked Shane before swallowing the pills and finishing most of the water. Ilya picked at the label on the bottle, his eyes downcast.
Shane sat next to Ilya, one leg tucked up under him to face Ilya. “Ilya, look at me, please.” Ilya’s hesitant gaze met Shane’s assured, soft look. “We’ll talk again in the morning before you go, but I need you to know that I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left like that and I’m sorry that I haven’t talked to you and apologized sooner. I know we need to work through some stuff, but I need you to know that I care about you.”
Ilya leaned in and gently curled his arms around Shane who wrapped his arms around Ilya and pulled them closer together. They sat that way for a while, content to hold each other until they both started to yawn.
“Come on, let’s go to sleep. I’ll make breakfast and we can talk in the morning before you have to be back at the hotel.”
“Ok, solnyshko.”
The men curled around each other under the covers, Ilya’s front pressed to Shane’s back, legs intertwined, and Shane’s head pillowed on Ilya’s arm. Communication would happen. They both wanted to make this work and would figure out a way to make it happen. Starting tomorrow, things would be different – better.