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Did you tell them yet?
On paper—or his phone screen—it was a simple enough question. Curiousity from his wife about whether Nick had shared his biggest secret with his teammates yet or if he had chickened out at the last second again; like he has for the past few months.
A secret that technically didn't even have to be a secret. Something about himself that he has been hiding from his friends for basically the entire time he has been in Ottawa.
It's not like he didn't want to share it with the guys, it's just that he didn't know how he was supposed to say it. Especially now that Ilya Rozanov, the Russian menace—as the league has titled him—has joined their team and became their new Captain; their friend.
It would've already been awkward enough to mention it before Rozanov joined them, after years of being a part of this team, but now it got even more difficult for him.
Nikolai Chouinard has Russian heritage; he's half-Russian on the maternal side of his family.
His mother moved to Canada from a small village in Russia, where she was born and raised. She was yearning for better opportunities; ways to improve her life. She wanted to find a way away from her family and her journey somehow brought her to Canada.
But despite marrying a Canadian and having children with him—Nick and his sisters—Nick's mother insisted on making sure her children knew about her heritage. She may have left the country as a young woman, but she was still proud to be Russian.
So not only did Nick have a Russian first name—that he has always abbreviated to Nick for simplicity reasons—he's also fluent in Russian.
He's been meaning to tell his teammates, his brothers, for a while, but something has always stopped him. Whether it was because of poor timing or intervention from some higher being—a puck doesn't just randomly hit you in the head off of the ice after all—there was always an interruption.
And now he also didn't know if he should even still say anything.
He really wasn't surprised that Rozanov was speaking to his partner in Russian, it was something that Nick had expected. But what he didn't expect was the way how Rozanov talked to them.
When Nick first heard Rozanov talk to Jane on the phone, in Russian—shortly after Rozanov joined the team—he was fully convinced that his Russian skills were getting rusty. That he must be misunderstanding something. That he should probably ask his mother for a revision on some grammar and terms of endearment; he was sure that he was the problem here.
Because there was no way that Rozanov—the Russian immigrant—would mess up this badly or this often in his native language.
Mixed up pronouns when refering to "Jane".
Girlfriend becoming Boyfriend, every single time.
It confused the hell out of Nick.
It should be She. And Girlfriend. Her name is Jane, after all.
Nick struggled to connect the dots at first; until it all clicked into place.
It took him a while to fully grasp what was going on with Rozanov and his "Jane"; he was never the one to pride himself with his ability to read between lines, but eventually he understood.
What he then knew for sure was that he could never tell anyone about him speaking or understanding Russian. Ever. He has heard too much; not a single thing that was for him to hear.
~~~~
Nick has been able to successfully hide his heritage from his team for another few months. Selena kept repeating that he was being a little dramatic about this whole situation, but Nick refused to be the reason for Rozanov to potentially get uncomfortable, or outed; he was basically invading his privacy after all, for over a year now. By now, he just leaves the room whenever Rozanov talks to "Jane", not wanting to hear any more details about their sex life; he already knew way too much.
It however became much more difficult when the Centaurs got a new player.
There were a lot of rumors about their new teammate. Some plausible, others definitely out there. The locker room talk was wild; bets were placed. However, neither of them won any bets though, because Shane fucking Hollander was the new player in question. Not a single person on the team suspected it.
Montreal's star—the only reason that they've ever won anything, according to Rozanov—was now in Ottawa. Playing on the same team as his former rival.
While most of the guys didn't know how to react at first, Rozanov was fucking ecstatic from the start. He lit up in a way that wasn't unrecognizable to Nick. It's the same way he looks at Selena, whenever he comes home from an away game. Unfiltered, true love. Finally being close to someone again, who has been away for way too long. This had to be Rozanov's Montreal Jane.
"Jane". Shane.
It made sense. Mainly because it probably wasn't the sneakiest fake name they could've picked.
Nick couldn't believe that the other guys didn't see Rozanov's heart eyes or the way he always had to touch Hollander in one way or another; or how neither of them connected the dots about the similarities of the names. They were so obvious, but Nick couldn't say anything. No one knew what he knew, after all.
Not that he would make fun of them for the blatant PDA in the locker room; that wasn't his style. But having to watch them, knowing way too many details about their relationship—their sex like—felt like torture.
"I can't wait to fuck you tonight. Your new sheets will be ruined, trust me," Nick dropped his shoe, keeping his head down. It wasn't already bad enough that he had to overhear their conversations whenever Rozanov was talking to him on the phone. He now had to hear it in person, too.
He didn't dare to even look at them for too long; scared that his expression could possible give away his knowledge and make this awkward.
What caught him off guard even more, was when Hollander replied to Rozanov in Russian. He must already be learning the language for a while now, Nick thought. While there still was a noticible accent, he had definitely heard worse.
Shane Hollander spoke Russian. Because obviously he spoke Russian. There isn't anything that Hollander can't do, apparently.
I will definitely take this secret to the grave. Nick repeated in his thoughts, as he took out his phone to tell his wife about his new discoveries. She had created a secret spreadsheet of possible "Jane" candidates, she will be thrilled to hear that Nick now had the confirmation.
He continued to listen to the conversation between Rozanov and Hollander with one ear; it's not like he could avoid it at all, as they were having one of the filthiest conversations he has ever experienced, in public. With a bunch of other people around. They felt safe to speak to each other, because they didn't expect anyone, but the other, to understand them. And it was supposed to stay that way.
Until, Hollander stopped talking in the middle of the sentence; it seemed that he was missing a translation for something.
He tried to describe what he meant, still in Russian, but Rozanov couldn't tell what he wanted to say. Hollander grew more and more frustrated by not being understood, but also refused to switch to English. Afraid that it would give away what they were talking about. And he obviously didn't want that.
Rozanov offered multiple options to what Hollander probably wanted to say, but none of them were right; or at least not what he was looking for.
"Marriage License." Nick filled in the blanks for Hollander, unintentionally. In Russian. He didn't even look up from his phone. He didn't realize that he had even said anything, at first.
"Yes, Marriage License. Thank you, Nick," Hollander repeated, pointing over to his new teammate. "Wait-"
He accidentally revealed his secret, in probably the worst way possible. He looked up from his phone and was met by dozens of eyes, staring right at him. Some confused, some shocked. But two pairs of them were absolutely mortified.
"Shit."