Archive of Our Own

The problem with issuing an open invitation is that nine times out of ten, the one person you don’t want to show up, is the person that does. Scott would have never extended the invite to everybody if he knew that Ilya Rozanov was going to be walking through the door of the Kingfisher. 

He didn’t even realise he had walked in until Kip looked up and his mouth fell open, “Scott, babe, who’s the hot guy?”

Scott looked and saw the man in question; Ilya Rozanov, in the flesh, showing a little flesh with his shirt half-unbuttoned. Annoyingly, one of the first thoughts when he saw the Russian was, that man has no right being that good looking. The second thought was, what the actual fuck is he doing here? 

Scott let out a long and suffering sigh, putting his head in his hands. “No, can he not have a day off?” 

Before Scott could explain anything to Kip, Rozanov had already sauntered up to their table. A sly grin on his face. He looked like a King greeting his servants and it made Scott want to punch him in the face before he had even said a thing. 

There weren’t his usual pack of knights with him though. He had come alone Scott noted, there wasn’t his usual gang of Raiders with him. This was unusual. He had started to wonder if Rozanov was capable of going anywhere without Marleau flocking him. 

“Hunter!” Rozanov bellowed, his eyes flickering over to Kip. “Hunter and handsome boyfriend, of course!” 

Kip blushed and leaned over the table, grinning. “I’m Kip!” 

Ilya beamed at him, holding his hand out for Kip to shake. “I am Ilya Rozanov, is good to meet you.” 

This was getting weirder and weirder. That was the most polite he had ever heard Rozanov be. 

Kip shook his hand, immediately charmed. “Hi Ilya, it’s nice to meet you too.” He looked at Scott and then back at Ilya. “I’ve heard a lot about you!” 

Scott rolled his eyes as Ilya grinned even wider. He was like fucking Tinkerbell. He fed off attention. 

“Ah yes, of course! I should have known Hunter would tell his boyfriend about the incredibly hot hockey player he loses to constantly.” 

“I mostly tell him what a ginormous pain in the ass you are,” Scott grunted. “Also Rozanov, I’m not sure if you noticed, but last time I checked not only did I win the Cup, I’ve also beaten you to the Conn Smyth and the Hart - some would call that a hat-trick.”

Leaning back onto the booth seemingly at ease wherever he went, Rozanov rolls his eyes. “Is because you are dinosaur. They think you’re going to retire so they give you all the rewards to make it easier.” 

“Yeah, that’s what it is.” Scott said. He could feel his blood pressure rising with every second he spent in Rozanov’s presence. 

Kip cut in before Rozanov could retort. “What are you doing here?” He asks this curiously enough that it doesn’t sound rude. A masterclass in restraint that Scott does not possess. 

Rozanov inclines his head to look at the bar packed with people. The light hits his hair in such a way that it almost appears as if he has a halo. There was a real irony to Rozanov looking angelic when he had clearly come here to aid his agenda of furthering Scott’s descent into hell. In the end, he just asks, “Is party, no?” 

Scott nods. It is a party and he is the idiot who made it an open invite, but Kip is giving Rozanov a once-over and doesn’t seem to think that’s reason enough for his presence. 

“It’s Scott Hunter night.” Kip points out, staring intently at Rozanov. “So, we’re here to celebrate Scott.” 

Scott blushes a little at that. He’s still not used to such open love and affection, well, not from someone who’s not a team member. Kip wouldn’t give a shit if he’s won any awards tonight or not, he would have celebrated him regardless. This fact made Scott want to melt into a puddle every time he thoughts about it. 

“Da, I am here to celebrate Scott Hunter.” Rozanov mutters. “I love dinosaurs.” 

Scott was sure that Rozanov had zero intentions of celebrating him. He wouldn’t even want him celebrating him. He was a prick.

Scott scoffs. “Dude, if you’re here to say something homophobic, you’ve come a long way to do it. So, if you’re going to say it. Just say it and fuck off.” 

Rozanov’s grin disappears and his face sobers, he looks at Scott with humourless eyes. Scott is startled by how much he doesn’t look like Rozanov with that face. It’s disconcerting. “I would never say something homophobic to you. I have never done that to anyone. I call you old, da? Never meaner than that.” He takes a breathe and his brow furrows further. “I came here tonight, alone. I just wanted to talk.” 

This was not what he had expected. But when he thought back to it, despite all the chirping on the ice, not once had he heard Rozanov say anything homophobic. He said a lot of other shit. A lot of other shit. But none of it was ever homophobic, which was a rarity in hockey. 

A strange silence has settled over them whilst Scott digested what was being said to him, and Kip being Kip comes to the rescue. “You wanted to talk?” 

Rozanov looked a little nervous. “Maybe, yes. But if you two are busy, it can wait.” 

Scott couldn’t fathom what Rozanov could possibly want to talk to him about. 

“We‘re not busy!” Kip exclaimed. Scott shot him a bewildered look. “Go and get a drink. I just need to talk to Scott about our plans for tomorrow and then he’s all yours.” 

Rozanov looked at Kip and then back at Scott. He gave a small smile and a stiff nod, before heading to the bar. 

Before Scott could say anything Kip was pulling him out of the booth and to the other side of the room. Rozanov remained directly in their eye-line as he chatted to Kyle whilst getting a drink from the bar. 

“Kip, what the fuck?” 

Kip pulled him in closer and hissed in his ear. “You need to go talk to him.” 

Scott stared at him. Kip clearly didn’t understand that him and Ilya Rozanov did not have that type of relationship. In fact, they didn’t have any type of relationship. He couldn’t be more confused if he tried right now. 

When Scott didn’t respond, Kip asked. “How many hockey players have come tonight?” 

“Most of my team?” 

Kip nodded at him, raising an eyebrow. “Exactly, you invited anyone who wanted to come and the only people who have shown up to support you in person has been your team, and the Russian guy who apparently hates your guts.” 

“He’s an asshole that’s why.” Scott whispered back, rubbing the back of his neck. “Besides, I don’t think he hates my guts. I’m not Hollander. I think he just enjoys getting under my skin. Probably just wants to try and piss me off.” 

Kip scowled up at him. “He sounded pretty sincere for someone who’s just here to piss you off.” 

“He’s funny like that.” 

Kip huffed and looked up at the ceiling. “Babe, I know you aren’t this dumb.” 

Scott chose to ignore the this in that sentence. 

“I don’t know what you’re getting at.” Scott said honestly. 

“You have just very publicly come out to the entire world. So far, the only people who have come to show you support in person and not just hidden behind their phones have been your team… and the big, hot Russian man.” 

Scott stared at him. He still didn’t really understand where Kip was going with this. His team came and supported him because they were good people and cared about him. The rest of the league, well, not only were they competition, most of them were just assholes. None of this came out through, instead Scott asked. “You think Rozanov is hot?” 

Kip rolled his eyes. “I have eyes, you have eyes. We both think he’s gorgeous.” 

Gorgeous? Was Rozanov gorgeous? Maybe in the right light?

“I don’t-“

”Shut up, yes you do.” Kip sighed before looking at Rozanov again, Scott followed his gaze. “Babe, have you considered that maybe the Russian hottie, who said he came here to talk to you, is gay?” 

There was a beat as the words landed and then Scott laughed, and he laughed loudly. He didn’t mean to laugh in his boyfriend’s face, but that was the most insane thing he had ever heard. Ilya Rozanov? Gay? The man had made half of his career a demonstration on the power of being good at sports, being super hot and getting as many women as humanly possible. 

A sharp pain went through Scott’s leg as Kip gave him a swift kick. “Stop laughing at me! I’m not joking!” Kip hissed. 

“I’m sorry,” Scott said, trying to dampen his laugher but failing miserably. “Babe, I’m really sorry, you don’t understand though. He’s the biggest womaniser in the fucking NHL.” 

“He’s Russian. I don’t think he’s going to be getting papped with a twink on his arm.” 

“Right, cause Russia don’t like that sort of stuff.” Scott said slowly. 

Kip stared at him, raising an eyebrow. “That’s a simple way of putting it.” 

Scott stared at him and looked back at Ilya as he took a sip from his drink before looking back at Kip. “You think he’s gay?” 

Kip hummed in contemplation. “Maybe bisexual.” 

Scott was trying to process this when Kip started to manoeuvre him. “Go over there, and talk to him.” Kip encouraged, pushing Scott forwards with his hands. “He came here for a reason, and maybe he doesn’t even realise what the reason is, but he’s here.” 

“You don’t understand, we don’t talk,” Scott hissed at him, trying to stop his feet from moving. For someone quite small in stature, Kip had an unreasonable amount of strength. “What am I going to do? Walk up to him and ask if he’s ever sucked a cock before?” 

Kip huffed. “No, you’re going to go over there and ask him if he’s alright, like a normal fucking person and get him to open up.” 

Scott was losing this battle spectacularly, Kip was pushing him with so much speed and urgency that Scott couldn’t stop him at this point without making a scene. “I don’t think you understand how hockey players work,” Scott ground out, wishing he had put shoes on that had better grip. “We’re really not a talk about your feelings bunch.” 

“Have we considered that perhaps that is the whole problem in the first place? None of you stupid men talk and then you all feel like shit as a result. But he’s here, and he’s asked to talk to you.” 

Before Scott could argue further, Kip had successfully pushed Scott so he that standing right next to where Rozanov was perched on a bar stool. Rozanov raised an eyebrow as Kip went around the other side of him and threw an arm around his shoulder. 

“Hello Kip!” Rozanov beamed. 

Kip smiled back at him warmly. “I’m going to talk to some of my friends about my college programme, it’s all very boring so was just wondering if you could keep Scott company for me for a bit?” 

Scott glared at Kip from over the top of Rozanov’s head. 

Rozanov looked up at Scott. “Is too hard for your old brain to understand college programmes?” 

Scott lowered himself down to the stool next to Rozanov. Admitting defeat to the situation. “I understand them just fine,” Scott retorted, his body tense. This was weird. It was weird when Rozanov first walked through the door, but now Scott was sat next to him, and it was even more fucking weird. 

Kip tilted his head and gave him a sympathetic smile. “It’s okay, Art History isn’t for everyone. I’ll be back in a bit.” 

And with that he scurried off and found a group of people to slide into. Scott stared longingly at him. 

A strange silence fell between them, neither of the two men seemed to know what to say but Scott could see that Kip was staring at him from where he’d made room for himself in a busy booth and knew he had to say something. 

Rozanov got there first though. “Is nice bar, I would not expect them to allow the care centre to allow their senior citizens around here.” He cocked his head at Scott. “But I suppose it is special occasion, so they allow it.” 

“I’m not sitting here to listen to you fucking chirp at me Rozanov,” Scott grumbled, trying to make eye contact with Kyle so he could get himself a new drink. 

Kyle nodded at him from across the bar and brought him another beer. He looked at Rozanov and shot him a flirtatious smile. “Can I get you anything else?”

Rozanov grinned back at him. “Da, another vodka please.” 

“Coming right up.” Kyle winked. 

Jesus Christ. Was there anyone in this bar that wasn’t attracted to this man? Scott wanted to throw up. 

Kyle placed the drink in front of Ilya and leaned into Scott. “You come out and already interviewing here for a third?” 

Scott resisted the urge to punch him, but Rozanov laughed loudly. 

“I am too handsome for Hunter,” Rozanov nodded to himself and took a sip from his drink. “Kip, maybe. But Hunter would not know what to do with himself.” 

Kyle laughed as he got beckoned over by another customer, and Scott shot Rozanov a glare. “I thought you wanted to talk.” 

That shut him up. 

Scott didn’t push him. If Kip was right and he was here because he was gay or bisexual, even Scott knew he might need a minute to figure out what he wanted to say. 

After a minute of passed, Rozanov seemed to take a deep breath. “I was impressed,” he muttered, playing with the edge of his napkin under his drink. “What you did, was very good.” 

This was a start. Also a compliment. He wasn’t used to the Russian man giving out compliments. 

Scott sighed and rubbed his face. “Maybe a little brash on my end.” 

“Maybe, but where is fun if no risk?” 

Scott imagined this was the mantra of Rozanov’s life. It was evident in the way he played hockey, the way he’d smirk and laugh after starting a fight on the ice. He clearly got some thrill in the risk of it all. 

“I’m not known for being a risk taker.” Scott mused. 

“But you did it.”

”I did it.” 

Silence fell over them again. This time slightly less awkward. 

Scott took a deep breath and tried his hand at being brave again. “I felt better for it, you know? Like, it felt good to not have to hide for a minute.” 

Rozanov nodded thoughtfully. “Ah, but now there is no more hiding.” 

“Yeah, that’s a new feeling. Might take awhile to get used to that.” 

Ilya took a long sip before looking side ways at Scott. “You think you will get used to it?” 

“I think so. I hope so.” Scott nodded. He wanted to turn away from him. There was a strange look in Rozanov’s eyes and he couldn’t quite pin it down. He didn’t look away though, whatever Rozanov was searching for he hoped he found it. 

Scott waited to see if Rozanov had anything else he wanted to say but when he didn’t talk, he realised that he was going to have to oil the gears with this. He was slightly frustrated that he couldn’t just ask him if he sucked cock. It would make life a lot easier. 

He sighed, “Rozanov-“ 

“Maybe I also like men and do not know many other people who also do.” Rozanov said this in one breath, staring forwards.

Kip was right. Scott cursed himself, of course he was right. Kip is always right. Ilya Rozanov had shown up tonight because he needed someone to talk to. 

“Ah- that’s- yeah,” was all Scott managed to say as his brain tried to catch up with what was happening. He cringed at himself. 

Rozanov pushed his stool back and stood up abruptly. “I need to go, I forget, I have-“

Scott grabbed his arm and roughly pulled him back to the stool. “No, we’re still talking. I’m sorry, you just caught me by surprise, that’s all.” 

Rozanov looked nervously around the room. “Is mistake maybe to come here tonight.”

Something fiercely protective uncurled itself inside Scott’s chest. The Kingfisher has become one of the safest places in Scott’s world for him to be. It was one of the first places he felt like he could be himself and whilst Scott couldn’t do a lot about the world outside of this bar, he could work with what’s inside of it. 

“No.” Scott said firmly, his Captain voice creeping in. He still had a firm grasp of Rozanov’s arm and he gave it a gentle squeeze. “Coming here was good. This bar is always going to be a safe place to come to.” He took a deep breath and couldn’t believe what he was about to say next but said it anyways. “I’m glad you came tonight.” 

Rozanov still looked hesitant to be back on the stool. His eyes darted to the door again, before he looked at Scott again, giving him a small nod. “I’m not usually a coward.”

”I wouldn’t call you a coward. I don’t think you would have come here at all tonight if you were a coward.” 

Rozanov snorted and took a sip from his drink. Scott released his arm and did the same. 

“Kip is too good for you.” Rozanov informed him, watching Kip make the group of people around him laugh. 

Scott doesn’t take offence. He understood that this was Rozanov fighting back for control of the conversation. He was on uneven ice and needed to feel some semblance of normality. Scott was both drunk and nice enough to let him have it. 

He hummed in agreement. “He is. I got really fucking lucky with that one.”

“He must be into old men. Very specific type, but maybe I can understand sometimes.” 

Scott smiled. It got boring but he could appreciate Rozanov’s tenacity when it came to the old man jokes. Despite his relaxed demeanour and the jokes, Scott could see his leg bouncing nervously underneath the bar. He wanted to put his hand on it to stop it bouncing but figured that he was already dealing with a cornered in dog and didn’t want to make it bite even more. 

Rozanov looked at him and smiled. “You are lucky he likes old men. Will be harder for anyone in this bar to try and steal him away.” 

“From who? You?”

The words came out before Scott even had the chance to think about it and just as he was about to apologise, Rozanov grinned widely. 

“He is very good looking,” he paused whilst he contemplated his next sentence. “But is not really my type.” 

Scott looked at Kip. He couldn’t imagine him not being anybody’s type. The man was objectively gorgeous in every way. 

Scott tentatively asked, “you got someone special in your life?” 

This was a brave move. Rozanov was a prickly creature and as far as Scott could figure out, he only really gave out the information he wanted you to know so it didn’t surprise him when Rozanov stared at him hard for a minute. 

Just as Scott thought he wasn’t going to respond. Ilya swallowed harshly. “Someone special?” He looked back down at the glass in his hand. “That is- that is one way of describing him, da. Special.” 

So there was someone. A man. Ilya Rozanov was secretly seeing a man. A special man. 

Ilya Rozanov was sat in the Kingfisher on Scott Hunter Night telling him that there was a special man in his life. 

Scott peered into the rim of his glass and wondered if he had secretly been spiked. Seeing nothing unusual, he looked back up at Rozanov and nodded. 

“You can’t tell anyone Hunter.” Rozanov murmured, throwing back the last of his vodka. 

Before Scott could said anything, Kyle appeared again. 

“You guys want another drink?” Kyle grinned from the other side of the bar. 

Before Scott could shake his head, Ilya’s sparkling smile had reappeared. He’d never noticed how fake it could look until now. “Da, another vodka please.” 

He wasn’t sure if another vodka was what Ilya needed right now, but he didn’t say anything. If it made it easier for him to talk, then Scott would take it as a win. 

Kyle put the glass on in front of Rozanov but before he could open his mouth to speak again Scott gave a stiff shake of his head. Kyle furrowed his brow and nodded before moving away. Rozanov took a sip from his drink oblivious. 

Any other time Scott would welcome someone else joining in a conversation with Rozanov but this was different. 

Scott turned to Rozanov. 

Rozanov looked at him. 

“Talk to me about him.” Scott said simply. 

Rozanov continued to stare at him. 

Scott gestured with his hands for him to begin. 

“You want me to tell you about him?” Ilya questioned, a strange look on his face. “I tell you I have secret gay lover and tell you, under no circumstances can anyone know, and you ask me to tell you about him?” 

“I’m not asking for his name, or his profession, or literally anything important, okay?” Scott said. “When I had to hide Kip, it always made me sad that there was no one to tell the little things to. So, tell me. I’m not going to do anything with this information. No one will know. Just hit me, come on, what food does he like?” 

Ilya flushed under the bar lighting and Scott felt strangely endeared. He was flushing about something as small as a man’s favourite food. Scott thought he looked a little nervous. “You want to know his favourite food?” 

“Yeah.” 

Ilya wrinkled his nose. “He likes silly bird food. Is all about health. He has very boring diet, salmon, smoothies, plain grilled chicken.” 

Scott nodded. It did sound very boring, but Scott was an athlete and could appreciate the need to keep healthy. It was funny though, this didn’t sound like the type of person he imagined Rozanov to date, not that there was an awful lot to gage about a person just from their diet. 

Ilya huffed and smiled before continuing. “He does not like it when I smoke. He makes me brush my teeth before we kiss if I smoke.” 

His voice is so fond that Scott fights the urge to hug him. This was not the Ilya Rozanov he knew. A part of him was glad that there was someone in Ilya’s life that was anti-smoking, it was a dumb habit anyways. 

“Anything else?” Scott prompted. The more Rozanov spoke about his special man, the man relaxed he seemed to get. 

“He does not like to read fiction, only none-fiction which I think is a little silly and boring but is okay because when he reads, he puts on these little glasses.” He looks at Scott and nods appreciatively. “Is very sexy. You would not think glasses could be so sexy, but he is proof.” 

Scott grinned and nodded, “I’ll take your word for it Rozanov.” 

“You should,” Ilya tells him playfully, clearing his throat. He raises an eyebrow and gives Scott a once over. “I imagine soon you will also have to wear glasses, if you are not wearing them already. Will probably help you find the puck, I know you struggle with this. But, that does not mean you need ugly glasses. Your boyfriend might like sexy glasses too.” 

Scott released a laugh before he could stop himself. He wasn’t wrong, Kip probably would like it if he had to start wearing glasses. “I’m sure he would like me wearing glasses.” 

“You agree that it would help you find the puck too?” 

“I have no problem finding the puck,” Scott muttered, shooting him a glare which lacked any actual annoyance. “I did just win the Cup, you know?” 

Ilya waved his hand. “It was good luck. Charity, really. They have to do good deed for senior citizens to show the world they care about the elderly.” 

Scott snorted. “Think that back fired on the league then, if that was the case. They wanted a good deed for the elderly but instead they are forced to acknowledge homosexuality.” 

“Da, you‘re right. A big mistake on there end. But you know,” Rozanov bumped his shoulder into Scott’s. “It helped some people.” 

“Some people?”

”Da, some people.” 

“Yeah, glad it’s helped some people.” Scott said softly, leaning forwards he gently squeezed Ilya’s knee. A risky move but the Russian man didn’t deck him, so he took it as a win. “Sometimes- you know, sometimes, you have to be brave.”

Ilya snorted and looked up at Scott. “Is easy to say, maybe not always so easy to do, you know?” 

Scott nodded. He did know. It had taken every ounce of bravery in his bones to do what he did. Sometimes he couldn’t believe he even found that amount of bravery inside of him, or if he would ever find it again in different circumstances. 

“You have lots of people who love you,” Ilya noted, glancing around the bar. “Maybe that also makes it easier to be brave?” 

Scott also looked around. There were a lot more people here than he had anticipated. Most of them he knew, some he didn’t. But they were all here. 

This was the most loved he’d ever felt. 

Scott didn’t know an awful lot about Ilya Rozanov. He knew that he was mouthy and annoying, he knew that he was a damn good hockey player, and through the grapevine, Scott knew that both of his parents are dead. He didn’t know how many people were in his life that loved and cared for him. As he watched Rozanov look around, he realised that maybe it wasn’t a lot of people. 

He had a lot of things against him. He was Russian and had been drafted into the NHL at an incredibly young age. Which, whilst impressive, couldn’t have been easy. Scott imagined a young boy, with little English, coming to a new country thrust into both adulthood and stardom. 

When Ilya looked back at Scott, he had the strange sensation that he was looking at eighteen year-old Ilya Rozanov. He suddenly didn’t look so menacing, or arrogant, it seemed like he was searching for something in the bar. 

Scott remembered a similar expression on his own face. It was a face he wore before Kip, before he felt brave enough to come out, before he had everything he had now. 

“You love this guy?” Scott knew he was pushing it at this point. He was pushing for information he had no right to know, but he got the sense that maybe Ilya didn’t have anyone to talk to about this. “Is he the real deal?” 

“Da, is love.” Ilya all but whispered back, staring at Scott with wide eyes, he said it like he was admitting to a crime. Scott internally cringed, maybe in Ilya’s eyes this was the equivalent of admitting to a crime. ”I love him. He is real deal to me, maybe, maybe he does not feel the same? But I think he does.” 

Scott nodded and asked, “I think love makes these things a bit more simple.” 

Rozanov is quiet for a moment, before he talked again. “I am not you, I do not get to,” Ilya gritted out. “Is different, you understand?”

“Tell me.” 

“Well, there is Russia.”

“Russia, yeah, I forgot about Russia.” Scott muttered softly. 

Ilya snorted. “Is privilege you have to forget Russia. I cannot.” 

“I’m trying to understand.” Scott promised. “Russia the main issue, or are there other issues too?” 

“There are more issues,” Ilya muttered, taking a long sip of his drink. “But Russia is big issue, you know? It might not end very well for me. But is not just about me, I am being selfish, there are other issues for him too. He has big career, this could hurt it.” 

Selfish is not the word that Scott would use to describe Ilya right now. The fact that he is thinking about the other mans career when he has Russia looming over his shoulder, kind of blew his mind. 

He was learning more Rozanov tonight than he had ever expected to know. 

Scott clicked his tongue, trying to figure out how he could be of any help here. He wanted to help. Fuck. He wanted to help him so desperately. “Is he out?” 

“No.” 

Scott sighed. One of the things that made him feel braver was watching Kip. A man that was so unapologetically himself it was impossible to not have that bravery rub off. 

Rozanov gave him a sad smile. “Is not an easy situation.” 

“I can see that.”

“I am meant to be going to see him. This summer,” Ilya tells him. “For a couple of weeks. We have never done this before but he asked me to come.”

“That sounds good!” Scott said encouragingly. “To me that sounds like he’s willing to try and make this work.”

”You think?” Rozanov looked at him so hopefully, he felt disarmed. He was begging for reassurance, like he needed someone else to voice it for him to believe it. 

“I do.” 

Rozanov hummed to himself. “I want to figure out a way to have it. I am selfish man, I want it all. I want what you and Kip have. I don’t want to feel like a split man. I want to be whole. I don’t want Russia to come for me, I want to keep my job and for him to keep his. I want him.” 

It didn’t feel fair. These were such simple things he wanted. Hunter wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the high emotions that had been pounding in him all day but he wanted to cry. He wanted to bundle Rozanov up in his arms and cry for him. Maybe cry a little for himself. Yeah, okay, he’d been brave but he shouldn’t have had to have been. 

Scott was aware that that moment on the ice looked like the end. It was big and emotional and had led to him being sat in the Kingfisher with the love of his life in the room, in plain sight. If he wanted to go over and kiss him, he could. But this wasn’t the end. It wasn’t even the beginning. It felt like he was stuck in the middle. There were more battles ahead and he knew it. The NHL were saying they were okay with it, they were giving him these awards. Everyone was slapping his back, but he knew. He knew that there were still whispers about him and Kip. He knew that next season the homophobia was going to ramp up. This moment of bravery was going to have to last for much longer than a single night. This was it now. He had to continue to be brave.

He had to continue to be brave so people like Rozanov could be brave too. 

“It’s not fair.” He was aware that was a gross understatement but he was struggling with what else to say about it. Scott wasn’t the best with words on a good day. 

Rozanov looked at him and gave him a small smile. “But can be fixed, maybe?” 

“Definitely. It’s fixable. Everything is fixable. I’ll help, in any way I can.” 

And he meant it. It was messy and complicated and he didn’t even know who the man was but he would be here. He wondered what Rozanov’s mystery man did that he was worried about his career. Maybe he was another sports star. But that wasn’t his business. 

Before anymore could be said Kip walked up to them. “Hello boys, how is our little chat going?” 

Scott and Rozanov looked at each other. 

“Did you two actually talk or just sit in mutual silence.” 

Scott stood up and wrapped his arms around Kip. “We actually talked. Rozanov can’t help himself. He has yet to learn the art of shutting the fuck up.” 

“He is very rude man Kip, you know I can set you up with someone much younger. Someone who doesn’t need help getting to the bathroom.” Rozanov grinned. 

“I was just coming over to say that some of us were thinking about going to karaoke. If you want to join us Ilya?” 

Scott downed his drink and smiled down at Ilya. He could barely imagine himself at karaoke but he would pay a lot of money to watch Rozanov singing his heart out. But, unfortunately, he could also envision the man being strangely good at it. He was already a performer at the best of times. 

Rozanov looked up at him. “What are you looking at me like that for? You think I am carer who is going to give you sponge bath?” 

Kip snorted and buried his head in Scott’s chest coughing in an attempt to hide it. “I’m sorry, okay, it’s just that it was kind of funny.” 

“Don’t encourage him.” Scott groaned. 

Ilya winked at Kip. “I would love to go to karaoke, but I have flight tomorrow morning. I better go and pack. But next time, da?”

“I’m going to keep you to that.”

”I will not disappoint. But will be hard for you not to fall hopelessly in love with me after you hear me sing.” 

Kip laughed loudly and blew him a kiss. Scott pretended to look affronted but something in his heart expanded. This was a really confusing night. 

Extracting himself from Scott’s arms, Kip turned and hugged Rozanov. “I’m going to go rally the guys, so this is me saying goodbye. I will be in contact because I do expect a karaoke night,” he pulled back and looked at Rozanov. “You’re going to have a hard time not falling in love with me by the end of it.” 

Rozanov laughed loudly and freely before nodding his head and bending down to hug Kip again before the shorter man walked away. 

Scott appreciated the way Rozanov had easily accepted Kip. He wasn’t weirded out by his forwardness but seemed to revel in it. He felt bad that he had been so hard on him for so many years. Not that he didn’t bring this upon himself with his chirps, but Scott wished he had looked a little closer. Maybe noticed another lonely soul in one of their face-offs. 

Huh. As if it was that easy. 

Ilya stood up and moved to gesture for Kyle so he could pay, but Scott grabbed his arm. “It’s on me.” 

“I am millionaire, just like you, I can pay for vodka.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “I know you can afford it, but it’s like a gesture of good will. You came tonight, and I really fucking appreciate it, so, yeah, you’re good. You don’t have to pay for your bill.”

Ilya gave him a long stare before nodding. “Da, okay, thank you.” 

Before he over-thought it, Scott pulled Ilya into a hug. He didn’t resist but was tense for a couple of seconds before his body relaxed. Scott wondered when the last time Ilya had been given a hug by someone who was not his mysterious lover. 

Scott whispered in his ear. “You ever want to talk again, or you know, need to vent, give me a call. You have my number, right?” 

Ilya nodded against his shoulder. 

Scott didn’t have a younger brother, and maybe the closest he had ever gotten to that was with Carter, but Scott felt such an intense need to protect the younger man in his arms, it was disarming. Before tonight, he’d only ever felt annoyed by the boisterous Russian. He was loud and arrogant and just fucking annoying sometimes. But here he was, being brave in the Kingfisher, letting Scott hug him.

“You are emotional old man,” Ilya shook his head like he was trying to recompose himself before taking a step back. He was blinking rapidly and Scott pretended that he couldn’t see the tears in his eyes. 

“I’m really not that much older than you,” Scott teased. He didn’t take it to heart. Ilya didn’t have to say it but he knew he appreciated the hug just as much as he did. 

“You lie,” Ilya pretended to clutch his heart and stagger backwards. “You wound me! Do not pretend you are anything less than a thousand years old.” 

Scott and him started to head towards the door. “You’re not driving, are you?” Scott asked. 

“No, I will smoke and then get cab.”

“Okay, that’s good then.” Scott nodded and before he could speak again, Rozanov had turned to him and hugged him again. 

“Thank you for tonight.” Rozanov mumbled, he looked a bit embarrassed as if he was admitting to some type of weakness. Maybe Kip was right, hockey had rendered them all useless and embarrassed by demonstrations of true emotion that went beyond the thrill of winning. 

Scott smiled warmly. “Any time. I mean that, seriously Ilya, please call me. I’m going to want to know how your trip goes.” 

Ilya nodded before giving a little wave and stepping out onto the busy street. 

As Scott watched him through the window, his phone buzzed in his pocket and he fished it out. 

Kip reappeared and draped himself over his shoulder, peering down at Scott’s phone. “Who’s that?” 

Scott scrolled through the message before turning to look at Kip. “It’s Hollander-“

”That the other hot guy that tried to start a fight with you on the ice?” Kip grinned widely. 

“Do you find every hockey player hot?” Scott asked teasingly. “Yeah that’s him. He just sent a message saying he admires what I did and that it’s going to help a lot of people.”

”That was nice of him. Clearly no hard feelings then.” 

“Yeah, I guess not.” Scott put his phone back into his pocket. “He’s a good guy. I think I just caught him on a bad day that time.” 

Kipp nodded and hummed, looking out the window where Ilya was smoking a cigarette. “How did your conversation with Rozanov go? It looked intense.” 

“It was intense,” Scott murmured carefully. “I think he just needed someone to talk to.” 

He wanted to tell Kip everything that was said, but he didn’t want to abuse Ilya’s trust in him, especially not less than ten minutes after the conversation had happened. Kip didn’t pry and Scott appreciated it. Whether Ilya realised it or not, coming this evening kind of told Kip everything he needed to know anyways. 

“Is Rozanov one of the people that Hollander is on about, you know, someone that needs a bit of help?” 

Scott watched as Ilya climbed into a cab and took off. He turned and gave Kip a chaste kiss, revelling in the fact that he could do that. He could kiss his boyfriend in public now, which was not something everyone could do, even if they are ready to be brave. 

He looked down at Kip. “Yeah, I think he is someone who needs a bit of help.” 

“You gonna give it to him?” 

“I’m going to do my best.”