Chapter Text
The final horn echoed around Madison Square Garden. Montreal 5. New York 1.
The Voyageurs had outplayed the Admirals in every zone, and their captain had been at the heart of it. Shane Hollander had scored twice, set up two more, and spent most of the night making Scott Hunter’s life miserable.
It should have ended with nothing more than a handshake. Instead, as the players drifted back to their benches after the ref’s final whistle. Scott skated past Shane, breathing hard.
“You’ve been impossible to play against tonight.”
Shane smirked. “Guess that’s the idea.”
Scott laughed. “Fair.”
Shane started to turn away, but Scott wasn’t finished. “You know…” His voice carried farther across the ice than he’d intended. “You’re starting to sound like him.”
Shane stopped. “…What?”
Scott pointed his stick towards him. “Every shift it’s, ‘That’s not interference.’” He grinned. “‘I didn’t touch him.’ ‘That’s clean.’ You are standing to sound like him.”
Everything inside Shane froze. Him. There was only one person Scott could possibly mean. Roz. His stomach dropped.
Scott frowned. “Hollander?”
“What did you just say?”
“I said you’re starting to sound like -”
Shane drove both gloves into Scott’s chest. Scott stumbled backwards.
“What the hell?”
“You shut your mouth.”
Scott shoved him back automatically. “What is your problem?”
“You don't say his name.”
“My what?”
“You heard me.”
Scott stared at him. “I literally didn't.”
Shane grabbed the front of Scott’s jersey. “I said don't.”
Within seconds, both benches had emptied halfway. Linemen wedged themselves between the two captains before anything more than shoving could happen.
“Hollander!”
“Enough!”
Carter grabbed Scott by the shoulders, trying to pull him away. “Cap! What happened?”
Scott looked as confused as everyone else. “I have no idea!” He tried looking around Carter. “Hollander just lost his mind!”
“You know exactly what you said!” Shane shouted.
“I honestly don't!”
The officials separated them. As Scott was pushed towards the New York bench, he called across the ice. “We should talk after.”
Shane didn't answer. He only stared. He knows.
oOo
Nearly half an hour later, the New York locker room had finally emptied, except for a few. Scott had just finished with the last of the media when Carter appeared beside his stall. “Cap?” Scott looked up. “Hollander’s waiting outside.”
Scott blinked. “He is?”
Carter nodded. “Guess he wants to finish whatever that was.”
Scott sighed as he stood. “Guess so.”
The hallway outside the home locker room was almost empty. Scott found Shane leaning against the concrete wall, still in his suit jacket, hand shoved into his pockets.
“Hollander.”
“Hunter.”
Silence settled between them. Scott could see it immediately, Shane looked terrified.
“So…”
Shane swallowed. “Uh…so.”
Scott kept his voice calm. “Hollander.”
“It’s part of the game.”
“It’s okay.”
Shane shook his head. “No.”
He looked around the hallway before stepping closer. “Please don't tell anyone.”
Scott blinked. “…What?”
“I mean…” Shane rubbed both hands over his face. “For the obvious reasons.”
Scott frowned. “What obvious reasons?”
“But also Russia.”
“…Russia?”
“Please.” His voice cracked.
Scott’s eyebrows climbed. “Hollander -”
“You can’t tell anyone.” Shane interrupted.
“Hollander…” Scott lowered his own voice. “Calm down. I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”
Shane stared. “…What?”
“I don't.” Scott spread his hands. “You completely lost me.”
Shane searched his face for any hint of deception. There wasn't one. “You… You weren’t talking about…”
Scott waited. “…About who?”
Shane looked like he might be sick. “I…”
Scott spoke gently. “You’re a good kid. I would never intentionally hurt you. Whatever this is. I promise.”
Shane’s breathing slowed just enough to listen. Scott hesitated. “Come over for dinner.” Then immediately shook his head. “Actually, no. Forgot I said that.”
Shane blinked. “What?”
Scott scratched the back of his neck. “Nothing. You don't need dinner with the guy you just tried to fight.”
“But…” Shane frowned. “You asked me before.”
Scott looked confused. “When?”
“The MLH awards, my rookie year.”
Scott stared back blankly. “What?”
“And the All-Star weekend, 2011.”
Scott searched his memory. “I asked half the league to dinner that weekend.”
“You did?”
“My apartment was two blocks from the hotel, I cooked. There were like fifteen people there. I was automatically checked in for the weekend, but I never used the room. There was no point.”
Shane’s eyes widened. “Oh. Shit.”
Scott tilted his head. “Hollander?”
“Oh, my God.” Shane covered his face. “Fuck. I am so sorry.”
Scott took a cautious step forward. “For what?”
“The fight.” Shane groaned. “This conversation, my brain. Everything. Please forget all of this happened.”
Scott reached out and rested a hand on Shane’s shoulder. “Hollander.” Shane wouldn’t look at him. “Look at me.” Eventually he did. “It’s okay. Whatever it is. It’s okay.” Scott smiled reassuringly.
Shane laughed once, it sounded miserable. “You don’t get it. He-”
Scott watched him stop himself. Russia. The panic, the fight. The obvious reasons, you don’t say his name. Scott’s eyes widened. “Oh.” The pieces clicked together all at once. “...OH. OH!” Shane closed his eyes. “...Fuck.”
“So that’s who you thought I meant,” Scott asked.
A tiny nod from Shane.
“You thought I was talking about…” Scott lowered his voice instinctively. “...Rozanov?”
Another nod.
“You thought I knew?”
“Yeah.”
“And you thought I was threatening to tell people.”
“Yeah.”
Scott let out one long breath. “Hollander. I had absolutely no idea. I wasn’t talking about him, I was talking about Walker.”
Shane blinked. “Who?”
“Our rookie defenseman.” Scott laughed softly. “He argues every call.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Oh.”
They stood there in silence. Before Scott smiled. “I’m not going to tell anyone. I never intended to out you. Ever.”
Shane swallowed. “...You know now.”
“I do.”
“My career…”
Scott interrupted gently. “No. It doesn’t change anything.”
“But-”
“I said no.” Scott’s voice was steady. “Your secret is safe with me.”
Shane looked at him for a long moment. “Why?”
Scott smiled. “Because I know what it’s like.”
Shane frowned. “What?”
Scott hesitated only a second. "My boyfriend would kill me if I betrayed someone’s trust.”
Shane’s mouth fell open. “Your what?”
“My boyfriend.”
“You're…”
Scott nodded. “Yeah.”
“You’re gay?”
“Last I checked. You know what, come for dinner?” Scott asked.