Work Text:
Luca was absolutely thrilled when he was announced as the second overall draft pick for the MLH. He spent nearly his entire life working towards becoming a professional hockey player and he actually did it. In just two years’ time he’d soon be playing on the ice as an actual hockey player. Not just that. Luca would be playing alongside Ilya freaking Rozanov.
His idol. His questionable choice in wall decor. His- let’s be realistic- gay awakening.
Luca was equally excited and mortified realizing the man he spent nearly a decade daydreaming of would be sharing a team with him. Sure, he would get to know his hockey idol as an actual person and not just hockey stats, but no amount of getting to know him would ever un-blog every insane thing he posted on his Tumblr account.
It would be embarrassing, but he could get over it.
That thought gave him comfort as he spent the next two years practicing, physically and emotionally preparing himself to move to Ottawa and be teammates with his celebrity crush.
~~~
That thought didn’t reassure him at all now. The years passed and his rookie season began. Luca was temporarily living out of a three-star hotel within walking distance of the rink when he was called into a meeting by his coach. Apparently, it wasn’t ideal for him to be living by himself in a “shitty” hotel in a brand new country. Luca felt like he wasn’t given any say in the matter when he was told that he would be billeting with one of the veteran Centaurs.
The last thing that Luca wanted to do was bother Bood, Dykstra, or even Chouinard. It’d feel weird imposing on them and their families. He made that very clear when Wiebe had even proposed the idea. Unfortunately for Luca, his coach had very different ideas in mind.
Not long after that meeting, Luca found himself getting out of his cheap rental car and dragging his suitcases beside himself as he quietly trailed behind Ilya Rozanov. Ilya Rozanov, his crush since forever, was giving him a tour of where he would be living for who knows how long. He has to live with the man that he drew and wrote about kissing other men in detail.
It was his own fault that he did that, but Luca must have done something so cosmically atrocious in a past life to be punished in such an unusual and horrific way.
A new thought took over his brain. More of a plan than a thought, really. He would play good hockey, draw and post about something other than Rozanov, and avoid any situations that could embarrass him anymore than he was the moment he stepped foot inside the other man’s home. Their home. God, this was going to be horrible.
~~~
Luca’s first month in Ottawa was finally over and he was still trying his best to adjust to all the differences. Their milk was bagged, short trips were a minimum of two hours away, and it was one of the least walkable places he’d ever been.
Realistically, it was a pretty walkable city for Ottawans that grew up there and weren’t the second overall draft pick coming to play for their local team. However, Luca had only been there a month and was, very obviously, a new player for the Ottawa Centaurs. He appreciated all the excitement and support of the people he met while walking around the city, but getting mobbed on a near-daily basis was getting old. By the end of the month, he was relying on his car much more.
Luca hated driving. Especially in downtown Ottawa. He couldn’t stand it. He went from his mom and friends driving him or just walking everywhere to re-learning how to drive in a brand new country. If Canadians were the “nice ones,” why was he being tailgated and honked at for going the speed limit?
As much as he hated driving, he was running out of space in his sketchbook. It’s dumb, but doodling in that sketchbook was one of the things keeping him sane between the culture shock, homesickness, and downright absurdity of his situation. There was one empty page left when Luca finally gave in and got into his rental car before pulling out of Rozanov’s driveway.
The art supply store he decided on, unluckily for Luca, was right in the heart of downtown Ottawa. After twenty or so minutes, he was almost there. He sat at a red light and listened to some music, turn signal engaged, praying for the light to change. Just as he went to turn up the song he was listening to, his entire body jerked forward along with the car.
He just got hit. He’d never been in an accident.
Before he could think about anything else, a horn blared behind him. It was accompanied by a man yelling. Oh god. Was he at fault? It’s his first car accident and it was in a foreign country and he was at fault. They can’t kick him out of the country for this right?
The light turned green. Luca’s hands shook as he gripped the steering wheel and pulled over onto the side of the road. When he was first learning how to drive, his mom told him that everyone involved needed to pull over and exchange insurance information. The moment he pulled over, he watched as the truck that hit him sped past his car while a middle finger pointed out of its window. It did not pull over.
It was supposed to pull over. Oh god.
They’re driving off to go get the cops. Luca was at fault. He was getting arrested. They were going to send him back to Switzerland. He lasted one month before screwing it all up!
What the hell was he going to do now? He can’t call his mom, it was practically midnight in Switzerland. He can’t text the other rookies since they probably wouldn’t know what to do.
Before he even knew what he was doing, his phone’s ringback tone replaced the music that was previously playing.
~~~
Ilya had a soft spot for the Swiss rookie that had taken up residence in his house. The little guy was cute. He was possibly the shyest person Ilya had ever met. He thought that if he even breathed wrong around the kid, Luca would probably turn beet-red and stutter an apology like it was his fault. The kid was phenomenal at hockey too. No wonder he was the second overall draft pick.
As much as he liked the guy, Ilya was glad that he went out for the evening. With another person in the house, it became much harder to call Shane without needing to whisper. At first, he enjoyed the thrill. Now, it was just getting old. Ilya was tired of having to hide in his own home, and he was glad to jump on any opportunity he could. The moment Luca left, Ilya facetimed Shane.
The two of them were quick, focused solely on getting each other off through the phone before Ilya’s rookie could come back. While they came down from their highs, a phone call notification appeared at the top of his screen.
“Incoming Call - Luca (Shy little boy)”
Ilya groaned. “моя любовь, rookie is calling me. I don’t want to stop calling with you.”
Shane, still flushed from the night’s activities, looked concerned.
“Luca Haas is calling you? Is he okay?”
It was Ilya’s turn to be concerned. “Why do you think he’s not?”
“He avoids you like crazy! He doesn’t even text you first. I think the most conversation you guys have is either you sending him reels or asking about groceries. Why would he be calling you?”
Shane had a really good point. Luca had never called him before. The only time that he texted Ilya first was a short message after they first met so he could have the rookie’s number for the Centaurs group chat.
“Лучик, I am hanging up. I must see if маленький зайчик rookie is okey.”
“Please do. Update me later?”
“Yes, my Shanya. I love you.”
“I love you too, Ilya.”
Ilya hung up and answered Luca’s call before it went to voicemail.
“Haasy? You never call. Are you okey?”
To his terror, all he could hear on the other side was sniffling and heavy breathing.
“Luca? Are you there? Talk to me. Now.”
“Don’t know what to do.” It was the most scared voice he’d ever heard from the rookie. He sounded so small, so young. “Car hit me.”
Ilya shot up out of his bed, reaching for the shirt and jacket he left the floor beside his bed. “Luca, where are you?”
“What if my car is totaled? Oh gopferdammi, they’re going to take my license away and send me back to Switzerland. Oh mein Gott, scheisse, scheisse, scheisse!”
It was soft, but he could hear repeated, jagged thudding sound from Luca as he began to cry harder than he was at the start of the call. What the fuck happened? For all he knew, Luca’s car could be flipped on a highway in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, Canada. Luca could be bleeding out all alone, worrying about getting sent back home.
“Luca, I need you to tell me if you are hurt. I need to know if I have to call ambulance to help me get you.”
Luca’s breathing hitched, sounding like he was struggling to breathe. Ilya was just about to text Boodram about what was happening and to get ready to call 911 before Luca finally responded.
“N-No. I’m not. Hurt.”
A wave of relief hit Ilya like a tsunami.
“That is good. Can you please tell me where you are? I’m getting in my car to come get you right now.”
Suddenly, now overcome with embarrassment or shame for some odd reason, Luca began to stutter. “O-oh my god, I’m so sorry Mr. Rozanov. I- uh, I can deal with this don’t- don’t uh. Worry. Sorry again,” he faltered, probably trying to get himself to stop crying. He was failing.
It broke Ilya’s heart thinking Luca didn’t want to be a bother after getting into a car accident.
“Luca, please send me your location. I am coming to get you if you want it or not.”
The line was silent before Ilya felt his phone buzz. After pulling the phone away from his ear, he looked down and saw a notification.
“Luca (Shy little boy) shared his location with you.”
He clicked on it, his Find My iPhone app opening. It took a moment, but Luca’s location popped up in Downtown Ottawa. Twenty minutes away according to the app, but ilya would get there in ten at the absolute maximum. He put his car into drive and floored it out of the driveway.
“I am on my way, малыш. Can you tell me what happened?”
Luca was still crying and breathing heavily through the phone, but he was starting to speak more coherently.
“I was driving to- uh. Run an errand, and I was at a red light. I was waiting for it to turn but someone rammed into the back of the car really hard. I pulled over onto the side of the road.”
He let out another breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“Did you get their license? Or the other car’s registration?”
There was a moment of silence before Luca cleared his throat with a very watery cough. “They um. They didn’t pull over.”
“What? So they just hit you and left?”
“Yeah. He uh. He flipped me off too.”
Ilya pinched the bridge of his nose. “Засранец. Do you at least remember what kind of car it was?”
Luca made an inquisitive sound, trying to recall. “It was a truck. It was white… I think it was a Toyota?”
“Okey. Try to remember anything else about it. Take big breaths and maybe listen to some music. Calm down малыш. I will be there very soon. Are you okey if I hang up?”
“I’ll be okay, Mr. Rozanov.”
Ilya laughed. “No more of this ‘Mr. Rozanov’ thing. Makes me sound old. Just call me Ilya.”
He could practically hear Luca’s face flushing through the phone.
“Oh! O-okay, Ilya. I’ll be fine.”
“Okey Luca. I will be there very soon. Bye bye.”
“Bye.”
Luca hung up on Ilya. He smiled to himself before calling Shane back while he drove. Shane answered on the first ring.
“Hello Shany-”
“Is Luca okay? What happened? Do I need to drive over? If I leave now I should be able to make it there around 8:23-”
It was sweet how much Shane cared, even if he never met Luca.
“Shanya, calm down. Is fine I think. Luca got into car accident.”
“And how is that supposed to make me calm, Rozanov?”
“He’s not hurt. He got rear-ended and is a bit scared. Guy who hit him is asshole though. Hit and run, didn’t even pull over. Flipped him off and drove away.”
“Jesus, what an asshole.”
“I thought you Canadians were all nice, no?”
Shane groaned. “You know for a fact that’s not true.”
“Ah yes, this is true. You are very mean to me all the time. I don’t know how I survive in this relationship.”
“You know you like it, Rozanov, don’t get it twisted.” There was no real conviction in his tone. His smile bled through into his voice.
“You wound me. Anyways Shanya, I am driving to Luca right now. I am about to pull up. Right in the middle of downtown right now. I will tell you more later?”
“Please do. Let me know if I can do anything, Ilya. Love you.”
“I love you too, Shane.”
The call disconnected right as Ilya parked on the side of the road and got out of the car. He scanned the street, his eyes finally landing on Luca’s car. It wasn’t the worst damage that could happen, but his rear bumper looked like it was holding on for dear life. The closer Ilya got to the car, the louder it became. Luca certainly listened to his advice, all he could hear coming from the car was loud, upbeat-sounding music. Upbeat is good right now.
“Let's dance in my room and leave it all broken
You know that you stole it the time it was frozen
So take off your glasses-”
Ilya knocked on the window, making Luca jump and try to scrub his face on any evidence of crying. The music stopped and the window rolled up immediately after.
“Hi Mr. Ro- Ilya.”
“Are you okey?”
“I think so? What if the cops come to get me, though?”
He stared at the rookie for a moment, baffled, before softly laughing.
“Luca, you would not be in trouble for being hit in hit and run. You are fine. No cops are getting you today.” That seemed to calm him down much more. “Come on, we will come back and deal with this tomorrow.”
Luca quickly nodded before turning the car off and jumping out, locking it after him. He followed Ilya back to his car, anxiously slid into the passenger seat, and twiddled with his thumbs.
“Why were you going out anyways? I doubt you are the type of person to drive for fun.”
Clearly, he was right. Luca flushed to an impressive shade of pink, the color even tinging his ears. “Just. Errands is all.”
“Errands? Not groceries, right. You know we buy groceries together.” Ilya knew for a fact Luca wasn’t grocery shopping. He’s just a nosy little shit and wants to know what would bring him downtown. In a car no less. “Maybe a date? Little Haasy found a lover?”
“What? Jesus Christ, no! I don’t!- I wasn’t going on a date. I just needed to pick some stuff up.”
“I take you then. You didn’t make it there, so we will go now.” Ilya had no clue what Luca was on a shopping trip for, but god was he curious.
“Oh- Ilya you really don’t need to do that. It’s not important or anything like that, I just wanted to pick some stuff up.”
“Come on, pleaaaaaaaase, Luca. I don’t want you to get another rental car and get rear-ended again for mystery errand. You will stress too much to play hockey afterwards, and I want to win another cup before I die.”
The rookie took a deep breath and sighed. “Fine, I guess. We can go.”
Ilya tried to hide his excitement as Luca typed the address into the car’s navigation system. He watched as the location name popped up, unable to hide his surprise.
“An art supply store? Haas, are you an artist?”
“I wouldn’t say artist, but I like drawing. I ran out of space in my sketchbook and I needed another one.”
The two pulled into the parking lot of the store. “How did I not know this?”
“I mean, how would it have come up?”
“This is true.”
~~~
The two hockey players made their way through the store, picking up what Luca needed. Ilya, possibly the furthest you could get from being an artist, was completely out of his element. The entire time they were there, he would grab random supplies and ask Luca what they were. Luca bashfully answered every single question and tried his best to dodge the praise that followed.
Ilya snatched Luca’s basket away from him and quickly paid for its contents before the rookie could fight him on it. The cashier, definitely having recognized them, watched the entire interaction with awe.
“Luca, you must show me your art when we get home. Call it payment for art supplies.”
~~~
“Holy shit, Luca! You are an artist! Better than what’s his face! Picasso! You have to draw me in your new sketchbook!”
~~~
If someone told Luca three years ago that he’d be a top MLH draft pick, playing professionally in Canada, and drawing a portrait of his crush-turned-teammate/roommate in their shared living room after getting in a car crash, he would laugh in their face and call them crazy. Maybe his life was just bound to be crazy. Everyone on hockey Tumblr would be so fucking jealous of him right now.