Archive of Our Own

The Boston Bears had won their home game on Sunday night, so that meant a boys' night out at the Wild Rover. The Wild Rover meant shots and beers and karaoke, and that meant Cliff Marlow was going to have the best night of his life. Honestly, every post-game win night was the best night of his life. It was all part of being a Boston Bear. Hammersmith was up on the karaoke stage doing something to "Livin' on a Prayer" that was probably illegal in twenty-five states. Carmichael was filming it so that they had something to laugh at on their next flight together. St-Simon was at the bar ordering four shots that looked like they were made out of acid, which historically meant tomorrow was going to be a problem. But tonight was not about tomorrow. Tonight was about the boys, and the win, and the fuckin' amazing fact that they were all alive and drunk and together.

Cliff loved the boys.
Not in that way. Just in, like, a bro way.
However, Cliff was also missing one of his boys.

He pulled out his phone.

[10:47PM, Sunday] | Roz

Cliff:
[Image: blurry selfie of Cliff, Brad Hammersmith, Ryan Carmichael, and Victor St-Simon at karaoke. Brad is mid-burp. Victor is holding two green shots. Ryan is throwing a shaka and Cliff is smiling with his tongue out.]

we fuckin miss you bro

Roz:
looks like great night. i miss boys too. do some shots for me.

Cliff:
already done bro. already done. wish you were here. it's not the same.

Roz:
next time i am in boston i will come. i promise. :)

Cliff put his phone down.

He hadn't seen Roz in months. His move to Ottawa had been sudden and confusing and weird. Plus, Ilya hadn't really explained but that was very Ilya, because Ilya didn't explain things. He just did them and expected you to keep up. And honestly, that was the thing that had been nagging at him for a while. The last time Roz had come out with them before the move, he'd been on his phone half the night, grinning at the screen in a way Cliff had only ever seen Ilya grin when he knew he was going to get laid. He knew he was talking to just from that fuckin' grin. Jane. Cliff had caught a glimpse of the name on the phone screen a couple of times, but Ilya hadn't noticed him glancing over his shoulder, because being sneaky was one of Cliff's hidden talents. Like, for real, he was a fuckin' ninja when he wanted to be. It had been Jane for fuckin' ages. Ever since Ilya had come back from the All-Star Game in Tampa in 2017. But, because Cliff was a good bro, he'd filed it under "Hot Girl Roz Didn't Want To Talk About" and then moved on with his life.

Until tonight at the urinal.

Brad had finally finished butchering a classic. Cliff clapped anyway, because Brad was his boy and Cliff was proud of him. Then some hot girl got up and the opening bars of Shania Twain's "Man! I Feel Like a Woman!" started, and Cliff's body made an important announcement. He needed to piss. Which was how Cliff ended up standing at the urinal, hands occupied, staring at a Jack Daniel's sticker on the tile while Shania Twain echoed through the wall when it hit him.

Twain.
Rain.
Jane.
Zane.

Holy shit.
Jane rhymes with Zane.

The hand dryer went off behind him. Someone flushed. Someone burped and Cliff wasn't entirely sure it was him.

Cliff did not move.

He was too busy solving the biggest Boston Bears mystery since the missing tub of Greek yoghurt in 2012, which no one talked about anymore because everyone knew it had been Hammersmith and Hammersmith had a lawyer uncle. Cliff washed his hands properly, because he wasn't gross, then looked at himself in the bathroom mirror.

His whole body went holy shit.

Ilya had moved to Ottawa. Ilya Rozanov, who could have played anywhere, who had women in every city, had requested a trade to Ottawa. Ottawa, where nothing happened except boring Canadian shit and Zane Boodram. And Ilya had made that decision fuckin' sober.

Jane equals Zane.
Happy Russian dude equals all 'cause of Bood.
Cliff was really good at rhyming when he had done shots.

He left the bathroom and walked back to the table with purpose. The boys were mid-argument about whether Brad's key change counted as a key change or an act of domestic terrorism, and Cliff did not have time for that. Normally he did. Normally, he had a lot of time for Brad-related crimes, but not now.

"Yo, guys," Cliff said. "I need to ask a question about Roz."

Victor's head snapped up. Not fast, but it snapped up as fast as a drunk man's head could snap.

"Marlow," he said, voice slurred, finger already pointing. "You said a name."

"What?"

"You said a name. And Roz ain't at the table."

Cliff stared at him. "So?"

"That's a buffalo," Ryan said with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"No, it fuckin' isn't," Cliff replied.

"It is absolutely a buffalo."

"Since when?"

"Since 2016, man. House rules." Victor said, slapping his hand on the table. "Pony up, Marlow."

"What the fuck? I gotta ask a fuckin' question."

"Triple," Victor said.

"Triple?"

"You argued with the buffalo."

"That's not a fuckin' rule either!"

"Quadruple if you keep talking."

"Fuck!"

Brad was already at the bar, and Ryan was already queuing "Fireball," because Ryan had never once helped a situation become calmer. Cliff tried to hold on to the thought. He really did. It was important. It was about Roz, and Ottawa, and Jane, and Zane, and the fact that Cliff might be the smartest person alive. Then someone shoved a shot into his hand. The revelation went down under three shots of cinnamon whisky and the first chorus of the Pitbull classic, and by the time Cliff surfaced for air, he had forgotten what he was going to say.

Cliff woke up at eleven the next morning with a hangover and the complete, unshakeable conviction that Ilya Rozanov was in love with Zane Boodram.

His mouth tasted like dying. His left shoe was in the bathroom. He was in nothing but his underwear, and one of his socks had somehow made it onto the kitchen counter. But his mind was operational. Not his whole mind. Most of his mind was busy trying not to throw up. But one important part, the smart part, was awake and online and focused.

Jane rhymes with Zane.

Over the next fourteen minutes, his search history became a comprehensive record of one man's journey through every stage of allyship.

how to tell if your friend is gay?
wait is it homophobic to google that? i'm not homophobic gays are great
how to be a supportive friend if your friend might like dudes?
how to ask someone if they are gay without making it weird?
is it weird to think your friend is hot and also think he might like dudes?
how to delete last thing you googled
how to be chill about your friend coming out as gay
how to be a good ally quiz buzzfeed

He closed the browser. He felt prepared. He was a man who had figured out all that important human science shit while he was in his favourite pair of underwear.

He opened YouTube and searched "Rozanov Boodram highlights Ottawa."

The chemistry was so obvious now that he had googled the important questions. The way Ilya found Zane with passes. The way they celebrated after goals, all of the grins and glove taps, the contact that went on one beat longer than it needed to. In one highlight reel, Ilya scored on a breakaway against Montreal and then Zane was the first man to reach him. They collided at the boards and Ilya grabbed Zane's helmet with both hands, grinning at him. Cliff had seen Ilya score hundreds of goals. He had never seen that grin. The strange move to Ottawa. How happy Ilya had been. The way he'd stopped talking about women, not gradually, but all at once. And the most obvious thing of all: Jane.

It fucking rhymes, bro.

He was just going to have to accept it. Ilya Rozanov was in love with Zane Boodram. Cliff sat very still for a second, letting the truth settle over him. It was a fuckin' huge truth. A truth that probably needed a chair and maybe some electrolytes. He had Googled. He had learned. He had taken a quiz that said he was a good ally, and now he was basically the safest possible person for Roz to come out to, because that was his bro. His concerned bro. His supportive bro that had aced that Buzzfeed quiz.

Cliff reached for his phone.

[11:47AM, Monday] | Roz

Cliff:
yo roz. completely random question. would you say zane boodram is a good looking dude?

Roz:
zane? yes. he is handsome man. strong jaw.

Cliff:
right. yeah. that's. ok. follow up. would you say he has like. a nice body?

Roz:
he is professional athlete cliff. yes he has nice body but we all have nice body.

Cliff:
yeah totally. totally. just checking.

Roz:
why are you asking me about zane's body?

Cliff:
no reason bro!! just saw a clip scoring against montreal. you guys have great chemistry

Roz:
we are linemates.

Cliff:
right. yep. that's all it is. linemates. cool.

Roz:
are you ok cliff?

Cliff:
never better bro. love you.

Cliff put his phone down. His heart was pounding. Ilya had said Zane was handsome and he'd said Zane had a nice body. He'd said they had chemistry, and then he'd said it was because they were linemates, which was exactly what someone who was secretly in love with their linemate would say.

Cliff updated his Notes app:

ROZ - EVIDENCE:
ROZ = IN LOVE WITH ZANE BOODRAM??
THE FACTS:
ZANE HOT: CONFIRMED BY ROZ HIMSELF.
NICE BODY: CONFIRMED.
CHEMISTRY: "WE ARE LINEMATES" (DENIAL????)

The next morning, Cliff woke up still fully committed to his newfound allyship. He armed himself with one Google spiral's worth of knowledge, and asked Roz some more hard-hitting questions.

[10:22AM, Tuesday] | Roz

Cliff:
yo roz have you ever watched drag race?

Roz:
i do not really drag cars

Cliff:
no like the tv show. with the queens

Roz:
the english one?

Cliff:
different type of queen bro. forget it. do you like bears?

Roz:
i played for boston bears for many years. i have bear tattoo on my chest. you saw it at beach first season. why are you asking these questions? you are being weird.

Cliff put his phone down. He was not being weird. He was asking normal questions. Normal, supportive questions. Questions a good bro would be asking another good bro if he had recently learned about his bro's hidden secret and was trying to get him to see he was cool to talk to about it. The real problem was Ilya because Ilya had answered every question exactly as asked, which made him impossible to interrogate. It was either because English was his second language, or because he knew exactly what Cliff was doing and had decided to be a dick about it. Both were possible, but Cliff was determined to see the investigation through. 

[3:17PM, Tuesday] | Roz

Cliff:
have you heard of grinder?

Roz:
yes i use often

Cliff:
wait really?

Roz:
how else do you get pepper on steak?

Cliff:
oh so it's like a pepper grinder

Roz:
yes. that is what i said.

Cliff:
ok yeah cool.

---

[7:41PM, Tuesday] | Roz

Cliff:
do you have a chosen family?

Roz:
what is this?

Cliff:
people who are your family but not blood

Roz:
yes maybe? teammates. some friends. they are good people

Cliff:
interesting

Roz:
why is having chosen family interesting?

Cliff:
no reason

Roz:
do you want to be a part of my chosen family cliff?

Cliff:
i don't know if i am allowed to bro

By Wednesday night, Cliff was at home in his underwear, eating cereal out of a mixing bowl and staring at his Notes app. He had all the pieces now; he just needed to figure out how to put it all together.

ROZ - EVIDENCE:
Jane = Zane.
Moved to Ottawa.
Zane hot. Roz happier.
Stopped pulling babes. But used to pull babes all the time.
... So maybe bi?

Cliff went back and erased the question mark next to ‘bi’.

Ilya had to be bi, because Cliff had seen him pull babes. Many babes. Elite babes. Women with high cheekbones and great boobs and sexy thighs who looked at Ilya like they were already thinking about the good night they were going to have. Cliff got those looks too, so he knew that Ilya was also a fuckin’ legend in the bedroom. But now there was Zane. So, if Ilya liked women and also maybe Zane, then that meant bi. Obviously, Cliff knew that. He was not stupid. He had simply been focused on the rhyme first because the rhyme was huge and obvious and factual.

The only thing that didn't make sense was Grindr.

Roz had said he used grinder for pepper on steak, but Cliff had done more research since then. Proper research, not just Googling questions and getting unhelpful answers. Grindr did not have an e, and it was not about steak. It was a dating app for gay, bi, trans, queer, and curious people. Cliff stared at the word curious.

He was curious... Not like that, though.

He liked women. He liked boobs. He was pretty set there. But he was curious about how to talk to his friend. Curious about how to ask Roz if he was bi without sounding like an asshole. Curious about whether "hey bro are you in love with Zane Boodram" was supportive or insane. Google had not helped with that part, but maybe an actual gay dude would. Cliff downloaded Grindr and the app opened and immediately asked him for a profile photo. Cliff stared at it.

Okay. No.

He was not putting his face on there. Not because he was ashamed. He supported the community. He had passed the quiz. But he was also a professional hockey player, and he only wanted to ask one friendly gay dude how to talk to his maybe-bi Russian friend without ruining his life. He opted out of sharing a face picture. He created a profile with the username BroInBoston, wrote a bio that just said: "here for advice not hookups!!" with two thumbs-up emojis and a shaka emoji, and hit save.

Nothing happened for six seconds. Then his phone made a noise it had never made before.

[Grindr] | BostonTop24

BostonTop24:
[Image received]

Cliff opened the chat and then let out a yell of shock and dropped his phone. The image he received was of a dick. Not a picture of a person who is a dick, but an actual picture of a dick. Just a fuckin’ dick on its own. Like balls and all too. Fuckin’ sent to him, Cliff Marlow, straight ally, at 8:47 on a Wednesday night in his own kitchen without so much as a hello.

The fuckin’ voice he listened to heaps these days, but probably not enough in his head when he was being a dick started talking to him.

He thought about every text he had ever sent a woman. Every "hey" at 11pm. Every follow-up "hey?" at 11:03. He had never sent a dick pic because he wasn't that guy. But he had, on occasion, sent messages that could have used a bit of foreplay, but like with words. He had just rawdogged them out and had never once considered what it might feel like to open your phone and see something fuckin’ weird. Cliff picked his phone up and after blocking BostonTop24, he made a silent vow to be a better man. He was, he decided, sitting on his kitchen floor in his underwear next to a cereal bowl, an ally now for both communities. Possibly three and he’d definitely be calling the boys out on their shit more.

He didn’t have to wait long to practice being an ally because his phone went off again.

[Grindr] | FitDudeSouthie

FitDudeSouthie:
hey

Cliff:
oh hey!! thanks for messaging. i actually have kind of a specific question if you have a sec

FitDudeSouthie:
any pics?

Cliff:
oh no bro i'm not looking for that. just wanted to ask about a friend of mine

FitDudeSouthie:
pics or no chat man

Cliff:
i literally cannot send a pic i'm a somewhat public person. but i can venmo you like ten bucks if you talk to me for a sec?

FitDudeSouthie:
lol

The profile disappeared.

Cliff frowned at his phone. That felt fuckin’ personal. Maybe he shouldn’t have offered money, but like, he didn’t want FitDude-whatever-the-fuck to feel as though he was taking advantage of him. Before he could think about it for too long, his phone went off again. He swallowed and resolved that he needed to do this for his bro, even if the conversations were fuckin’ hard.

[Grindr] | DanFromMedford

DanFromMedford:
hey. new around here?

Cliff:
sort of. actually i'm here for advice? i'm a bro trying to help another bro and i've hit like a wall. is that ok? are you free?

DanFromMedford:
lmao ok. this is not what this app is for but sure. what's up.

Cliff:
you're a life saver bro! ok so. my buddy. i think he's bi. how do you know if your bro is bi?

DanFromMedford:
have you asked him?

Cliff:
no

DanFromMedford:
have you considered asking him?

Cliff:
that's the thing. i don't know how to ask. like what if i say it wrong and he thinks i think he's less of a bro? or what if he isn't bi and i've just accused him of being bi like it's a bad thing which it isn't but he might think i think it is?

DanFromMedford:
that's a lot of what ifs. deep breath man lmao you’ll be right

Cliff:
i'm breathing.

DanFromMedford:
ok. the short version is: if you love your friend and you're coming at it from a place of just wanting to know so you can support him, he will know. you don't have to give him a scripted response. you just have to mean it.

Cliff:
holy shit dan.

DanFromMedford:
i know.

Cliff:
you should be a therapist bro

DanFromMedford:
i am a therapist

Cliff:
NO WAY. bro that tracks so hard.

DanFromMedford:
lol. one last thing. if you want a soft opening, ask him if he's a friend of dorothy. it's an old code. means part of the community. if he is, he'll know what you mean. if he isn't, he'll just be confused and you can play it off.

Cliff:
DAN.

Cliff:
dan you have saved a life today.

DanFromMedford:
lmao ok. good luck bro. be gentle with him. and yourself.

Cliff:
love you dan. i mean that in a bro way but also in the way i mean it now which is more evolved.

DanFromMedford:
night man.

Cliff sat on the kitchen floor for a while, cereal bowl abandoned, phone warm in his hand. He felt lighter than he had all week. He felt like a man who had done real work on himself.

He was ready.

[10:14AM, Thursday] | Cliff

Cliff:
hey roz. important question. are you friends with dorothy?

Ilya read the message twice. Then he set his phone on the kitchen counter. Then he picked it up and read it again. He knew exactly what Cliff was doing and he was not being subtle about it, and also, Ilya had no idea where he had ever heard that phrase. Even if he had gotten it wrong, Ilya was sure he knew what Cliff was implying. The correct response was to shut it down, but Ilya didn't want to shut it down. He had not talked to Cliff this much in months. Ottawa still felt new, hockey was consuming, and Shane was everything. The secret needed space, and the space it took was the kind that used to be filled by old friends and stupid late-night conversations about nothing. He pulled up the photo Cliff had sent from the Wild Rover. The four of them at karaoke being their loud and chaotic selves. Ilya could almost hear them. He missed that. And Cliff was trying, even if he was doing it badly, and he had somehow arrived at the wrong answer entirely, but the trying itself meant something.

Also, it was very funny, and he hadn’t made fun of Cliff in ages too.

[10:16AM] | Cliff

Roz:
dorothy? yes she is great. she comes to all my games. she is number one ilya fan.

Cliff:
SERIOUSLY??

Roz:
yes. i have many feelings about ottawa. is special city for me. i have many new friends now, some important like zane.

Cliff:
bro i KNEW it

Roz:
zane is very good man. we are very close.

Cliff:
ROZ OH MY GOD

Ilya set the phone down. From the bedroom, he could hear Shane on the phone and smiled because the sound of Shane's voice doing something ordinary was still one of Ilya's favourite things. Cliff had built a whole theory. Every piece of it was wrong. And that made Ilya feel safer than he had in a long time. Because if anyone else was looking at Zane Boodram, Ilya was going to let them.

[11:17PM, Thursday] | Cliff

Cliff:
roz. i'm done testing. i'm just gonna ask you.

Cliff:
bro are you in love?

Ilya was in bed. Shane was beside him, reading something on his phone, one knee pressed against Ilya's thigh.

[11:19PM] | Cliff

Roz:
yes.

Cliff:
for real?

Roz:
yes cliff. for real. it is most serious thing in my life. maybe more serious than hockey. do not tell anyone i said that.

Cliff:
bro

Cliff:
BRO

Cliff:
ok i'm just gonna say it because i've been putting this together all week and i think i'm right. you're different now roz. like actually different. you gave up boston. you changed your whole life. you moved to ottawa and started acting like a guy who didn’t want to go out on the weekend anymore and you're happy now. like love happy. and the roz i knew didn't do that type of happy. but now you do and i've watched the clips man. after goals. on the bench. when you think nobody's looking except everybody is looking because you are on tv. you look at him first when he’s there. and you smile like a fuckin idiot but in a nice way. real smile. and his name literally rhymes with that contact in your phone that i remember from back in the day here bro.

Ilya stared at his phone. He read the message again.

Ilya's heart thumped against his ribs. Because if Cliff Marlow, who had once tried to microwave a protein bar in the wrapper and yelled at the fire alarm for being dramatic, had somehow walked directly into the middle of Ilya's most hidden secret and found the thing Ilya had spent years hiding and figured it out, they weren’t safe anymore.

Then another message came through.

Cliff:
it's zane boodram. right?

Ilya let out a laugh that caused Shane to glare at him.

[11:22PM] | Cliff

Roz:
cliff.

Cliff:
yeah?

Roz:
it is not zane.

Cliff:
WHAT

Roz:
zane is married. he has daughter. he is my alternate captain.

Cliff:
but. jane. zane. bro. it RHYMES.

Roz:
many things rhyme cliff.

Cliff:
ok. ok. but whoever it is. you're happy? like actually happy?

Roz:
yes cliff. actually happy. more than i thought was possible for me.

Cliff:
then that's the whole thing. i don't need to know anything else yet bro. i love you bro. you're a good dude. you always have been. whoever this person is, they're lucky as hell.

Cliff:
and roz. i want you to know. whoever it is bro, i'm your guy. you don't have to say anything. you don't have to explain anything to me. i just needed you to know.

Roz:
thank you. this means very much to me. more than you know.

Cliff:
but when you do get married can i be best man? i've had a speech ready since we played together. i just need to change the name

Roz:
if there is wedding cliff, you are invited. this i promise.

Cliff:
LOVE THAT FOR YOU BRO. goodnight man. i'm proud of you.

Roz:
goodnight cliff.

Ilya put the phone down. He looked at it for a long moment. Then he picked it up again.

Roz:
cliff.

Cliff:
yeah?

Roz:
i am lucky to have you as friend. never change.

Cliff:
love you too bro.

Cliff sat back against his kitchen counter, cereal bowl still on the floor beside him, phone warm in his hand. He'd gotten the name wrong, and Roz hadn't said what Cliff had thought Roz would say, and none of that mattered, because the shape of the thing was right. Roz was happy. Roz had someone. And Cliff had shown up for him, which was the whole job of being a fuckin’ top bro.

He picked himself up off the floor and opened his browser and opened Pornhub. There was that fuckin’ hot video of that chick that counted backwards that he wanted to watch again… and now that he knew Ilya was bi, that meant Roz still liked chicks, which meant he should definitely send it to him.

Ilya put his phone down.

Beside him, Shane lowered his own phone. "What was with that laugh?"

"Cliff Marlow thought I was in love with Zane Boodram,” Ilya deadpanned.

"Your alternate captain?"

"Yes. And I have seen him in showers too, Shane. He has a lot to be in love with."

Shane scoffed and hoisted himself over, straddling Ilya's hips in one unimpressed movement. "I remember when you saw me for the first time in the showers."

"I remember what happened to you too," Ilya said mildly.

"Do you want to go recreate that now?" Shane leaned down and gently kissed the corner of Ilya's lips.

"Also,” Ilya sighed as he ran his hands up Shane’s back, “Cliff is going to be best man. If we have wedding."

Shane's mouth stopped moving and he lifted his head half an inch. "You can stop talking about Cliff Marlow now."

Ilya grinned, slid a hand down, and smacked him lightly on the ass. "See you in the shower, Hollander."