Chapter Text
Breaking News: Voyagers Star Captain traded in secret deal to Boston Bears.
“Hey Roz, did you see this?”
Ilya had been running hard, eyes fixed on the wall ahead of him. He could only hear his footsteps beating against the treadmill and, behind that, his usual workout playlist cranked up loud enough to drown out the sound of his teammates chattering. Which meant he didn’t hear Keller when he first approached or when he started speaking. Didn’t even notice he was there at all. Everyone else had faded away. It wasn’t until a phone was waved in his face with a picture of Shane Hollander that he was forced to turn off the machine or risk falling on his face as his eyes crossed at the sight of familiar freckles.
“What the fuck do you want?” Ilya complained, pulling an earbud out. “What are you showing me?”
Even as he asked, Ilya reached out to snatch the phone straight out of Keller’s hand, ignoring the squawk of protest the rookie let out. His eyebrows furrowed as he skimmed over the short article. No one knew why Hollander, who had just led the Voyagers to back-to-back Stanley Cup victories, would be traded. But apparently someone had leaked the paperwork, and everything looked legit. Shane Hollander was officially going to be a Boston Bear. What the fuck.
Ilya just couldn’t figure out why. Why was Shane traded, and why hadn’t he told him it was going to happen. Why, why, why. He hated it.
“Do you think it’s true?” Keller asked, voice rambling conversationally, oblivious to Ilya’s growing distress. “I mean, he’s probably the best player in the league, and if we have both of you -"
Ilya cut Keller off by throwing the phone back at him. “Second best,” Iya said pointedly as he stepped off the treadmill. It was rare for him to leave a workout early, even in the off-season, and his sudden change in mood was garnering him a few concerned looks from the rest of the team. Not that Ilya cared. He hardly noticed. He needed to text Shane. He needed to talk to the Bears's coach. Ilya was the captain; he should know about these things.
The black mood he suddenly found himself in was at least enough to keep everyone away as he stormed out of the gym. Leaving a gaggle of other players who shared concerned looks, and who then immediately went to figuring out what had their captain tied up in knots by swarming Keller.
“Rosanov, you can’t just bust in here whenever you want,” Julien snapped, looking across his desk with a well-practiced scowl as the door to his office was thrown open so hard it bounced.
“Try walking in again,” he ordered. “Nicer this time.”
Ilya’s eyebrow twitched, a bitten-off curse on the tip of his tongue. Refusing to back down, he stood stubbornly in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, as he used every bit of his impressive height and bulk to show just how pissed off he was. “No.” The word spit out. “I am here for answer. Why do the gossip columns say Shane Hollander is joining my team?”
There were plenty of reasons to be upset. That his coach didn’t tell him, that Shane didn’t tell him, that he had no idea why the trade was even happening, and that Shane was moving teams in the first place and never mentioned it. It felt off, wrong. Ilya knew it couldn’t be something as simple as the contract running out. Any sane team would be dying to keep Hollander after the last two seasons. Which meant that there was something else happening, and the Bears were working to keep it a secret from him. That Shane was keeping it a secret from him. They weren’t anything, Ilya knew. Shane didn’t have to tell everything. But this was about their careers, and Shane hiding something from him like this felt wrong.
Or at least that’s what he told himself. That he was only upset because Shane was hiding things from him that would also affect his career. Just like his own team were hiding things from him that would affect his career.
Unfortunately for the team, they were the easier targets for his ire.
“Shit. How did they find out?” Julien rubbed the bridge of his nose, already looking more tired. “We were going to make a statement after discussing it further with Hollander…” He began, placing his hands on the desk with a ragged sigh.
“Listen, I know you two are rivals. But this is a rare opportunity; you two are the best players in the league, and Hollander wanted to stay in this division.” He spoke as though he was trying to soothe Ilya’s ego. As though that was the biggest issue at hand right now. “We had the funds for him after trading Price, and it just made sense to jump on it.”
“Then why keep it secret?” Ilya demanded, shoulders bunched up with stress. He gnawed at the inside of his bottom lip, tasting the coppery tang of blood. The pain did nothing to ground him.
“Part of the trade deal. Not to be announced to the public until after the awards, but, well, clearly it got out early,” Julie explained with a hapless shrug that did nothing but annoy Ilya more.
Ilya still didn’t understand. “Why? Is Hollander afraid Montreal fans will turn on him?” They were nearly as rabid as Boston’s fans. But Shane was their golden boy, especially now. To lose him now would probably not just mean Shane getting hate but the entire team. But he didn’t take Shane for a coward.
“Well….” Julien started, but he clearly stopped himself. “No, I can’t talk about it. Not yet. Not before clearing with Hollander.”
With a frustrated sound, Ilya threw his hands up into the air. “What is with all these secrets? It is a trade deal, yes? What is so secretive about that?” People were traded all of the time. Price’s trade now made far more sense when Ilya realized it was probably part of some larger play to get Hollander. But he still didn’t know why Hollander was up for grabs in the first place. It didn’t seem as though Julien was going to be the one to tell him either.
“Rozanov, I can’t give you any answers right now.” Julien’s tone was a warning; Ilya was pushing too hard.
“Why the fuck not?” Ilya’s voice rose sharply, pushing hard despite that. “I am Captain of team I do not even know members of. What the fuck is that?”
“Rozanov. Enough.” Julien’s eyes were narrowed, the dare to not argue anymore clear in his tone. “I can’t tell you. Not right now. You’ll find out as soon as it's cleared with legal and everyone else, got it?”
Ilya’s jaw clenched, the muscles visibly working under the skin. His eyes were alight with pure anger now, bright and wide. It was only well-practiced discipline that was practically beat into him as a child that stopped him from pushing against his coach more. Even as his mind desperately screamed that he needed to get those answers.
“When is he joining us officially?” If Julien wouldn’t give him the why, Ilya wanted to know when. He wanted to know if Hollander had intended to keep it from him until the day he showed up in Boston.
“We were going to announce him at the end of August.”
Ilya’s jaw flexed as he mulled over the idea that Shane was going to be kept a secret until right before the preseason. His suspicions only grew the more he learned, and what he learned so far wasn’t enough. With Julien being a successful roadblock, Ilya realized he needed to go right to the source.
“Great. Secret Hollander swooping in to save our season and help win us cup,” He rolled his eyes, his voice heavy with sarcasm and annoyance - but not the anger that Julien or anyone else might have expected. There was too much else going on to put up the front that the NHL’ favorite rivalry was as intense as they wanted to make it seem. “I am going back to gym. Let me know when we can have real information about the team and I can be captain again.” The comment was a low blow considering Julien was usually a pretty forthcoming coach. But being the last to learn about Hollander had made him feel petty and bitter.
Turning on his heel, Ilya stalked out of the head coach’s office. He let the man’s door shut with a slam, ignoring the shout of indignation that Julien threw at him as he left.
His first stop was the locker room, where his phone was currently charging. With workouts not being mandatory, it was generally empty. Today was no different. Save for Keller, the rookie that had shown him the article standing awkwardly near his locker.
Ilya didn’t spare him a passing glance, instead unlocking his phone to scroll through the notifications. Most of them were trash, but nestled between them all was a text from Jane.
from jane:
call me please.
He scoffed, pettiness bubbling to the surface once more. So now Hollander wanted to talk to him about this? Now that it was big news? His face scrunched up into a scowl, trying to ignore the ache in his chest at the fact that Shane hadn’t been willing to tell him about any of this. Likely for months. His head was always so full of him, constantly harassing and texting the boring Canadian. Clearly, it wasn’t mutual.
“Uhm, Roz?” Keller’s voice was tentative but loud enough to have Ilya closing his texts and looking at him from the corner of his eye.
“What?” He wanted to call Shane, not to babysit. He’d feel bad about blowing Keller off later; right now all he had was anger and that hurt feeling that settled under his sternum.
“I was just wondering if you figured out why Hollander was transferring here? Everyone is talking about it.”
Ilya cursed under his breath. He shouldn’t be surprised that people were curious; this was a huge trade deal. But how quickly the gossip mill worked always surprised him. Did the players and WAGs not have anything better to do? From the constant vibration of his phone, Ilya was starting to accept that the answer was no.
“No.” He replied flatly. “Coach won’t say anything, so we just have to wait.”
“Oh.” Keller seemed disappointed, eyes turning towards the floor before slowly meeting Ilya’s once more. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Not that it really matters why he’s transferring. I mean, it’ll be great to have him on the team, right?”
Keller’s reaction caught him off guard, and Ily had a hard time figuring out why Keller was so disappointed. Either he was a huge gossip or a huge Shane Hollander fan. Ilya wasn’t sure which one was worse. Especially after Keller called Shane the best player in the league.
“Да.” He agreed. “Yes. Hollander is very good player. Montreal is stupid to let him go.”
“Yeah!” Keller agreed, brightening up instantly. “I’m really excited to play with him. Uhm, if you ever talk to him, can you let him know that the team is excited to have him?”
A part of Ilya panicked, wondering why Keller thought that he was in contact with Shane. It wouldn’t make sense for him to, they were so careful around each other. But nothing about today made sense. Giving Keller a careful once-over, Ilya didn’t see any signs of him reaching for answers or anything else nefarious. Just the wide, hopeful puppy dog eyes for a rookie. Definitely a Shane Hollander fan, then.
“You tell him yourself, he is coming here.” Ilya turned to grab the things he’d need for a shower. He’d need that time to figure out what he was even going to say to Shane. To wrestle down some of the anger until he could form a coherent sentence.
“Oh, right.” There was a long pause, and Ilya could feel that Keller wanted to say more. He turned to look at him, both eyebrows raised. He didn’t have the patience for this bumbling and second guessing of thoughts Keller was clearly having.
“I just…might have heard about why he was transferring from a buddy of mine. So I figured if he knew that we were excited to have him…it’d be better for him?”
“You know? Why not say before?” Ilya was on Keller, looming over him. He could see Keller wince, shrinking in on himself. Quite a feat for a defenseman who wasn’t actually small to begin with, but Keller made a good attempt at it.
His eyes hit the ground rather than meet Ilya’s, shoulders curled in. “I’m not a hundred percent sure. But apparently there are rumors that, uh, Hollander is gay and his team isn’t taking it well. There’s been some tension.”
It was so quiet after Keller finished speaking, Ilya could hear his blood rushing in his own ears.
“What?”
The word slips out before he can stop it. “You are sure?” His world felt like it was tilting on its axis. Ilya’s hands felt sweaty, and he suddenly felt sick to his stomach. Not for any worry about their relationship being exposed—they were too careful—but because this is precisely what Shane always dreaded. That his interest in men would mean he wouldn’t be able to play hockey anymore. Now he was being proven right in the worst way possible. Traded from a team he was building a legacy with because of who he took to bed.
“Pretty sure,” Keller’s voice is muffled and far away. “I mean about the gay rumors, not that he is gay - I wouldn’t care if he was gay, you know. My older brother is too, so I’m totally fine with it.”
The rookie was rambling, clearly nervous and trying to fill the dead air where Ilya should be responding.
Ilya can’t bring himself to say anything at all.
“Do you care?” Keller asked, hesitant.
“Care?” Ilya repeated, snapping his gaze back to Keller, not quite comprehending what he meant.
“Do you care that Hollander might be gay?” It took a lot of bravery for this rookie to look up at him and ask that. A huge risk that most others wouldn’t dare to. So either Keller was stupidly brave, or Ilya looked more tolerant than most would give him credit for.
A small part of him really hoped it was the latter.
“I do not care who boring Shane Hollander has boring, missionary sex with,” he scoffed, blinking away memories of dark, wet eyes and a swollen pink mouth that was anything but boring. “Man, woman - who care? I only care that he is slow and has terrible backhand we will now have to fix.”
He watched as Keller’s posture relaxes in real time, his expression opening up to one of pure relief. Ilay realized that the rookie really did care about whether Shane would be accepted here. The guilt flooded in quickly. That is what he should have been worried about too. But all he could think about was his own selfish feelings about Shane not telling him first. He was such an asshole.
“Yeah, awesome. I figured Roz but you know it's just so hard to tell sometimes…”
Ilya nodded, a grimace stretching across his lips. He knew exactly what Keller meant. With the way slurs and gay jokes were thrown around, you could never really know who was taking the piss and who actually meant it.
“You are good kid,” Ilya reached out to pat Keller’s shoulder. “I will tell Hollander that we are glad to have him if we speak, and you can help show him ropes when he arrives.”
It was a lie; if Shane was really joining their team, then Ilya would be the one to do it. But it was worth lying to see Keller’s face light up. Ugh, truly a die-hard Hollander fan. It was just his luck. He made a mental note to encourage more of his fans to be recruited to the Bears in the future.
“Go finish workout, I will see you on ice tomorrow.” He dismissed Keller, waiting until the rookie left with the renewed bounce in his step. Ilya stood there, listening to make sure that no one else was in the cavernous locker rooms, before finally flipping his phone over.
A few calls from Svetlana. Texts from the Bears group chat as the news blew up. No more texts from Jane. Though, Ilya wasn’t too surprised. He imagined Shane sitting in the dark, staring at his phone - typing and retyping messages that he’d never send. A pang of fondness pulled the corner of his mouth up into nearly a smile. He was still pissed Shane hadn’t told him sooner, but at least now it was wrapped in the proper layer of concern for how he was doing.
to jane:
Leaving practice in fifteen. Call then.