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Scott wasn’t in any way surprised about the reception he was receiving. He had known from the first moment he invited Kip to stay and he had known it when he’d called Kip down onto the ice and kissed him.
The sports world in general wasn’t a very safe place for queer people but the hockey league was genuinely in a league of its own.
Homophobic rhetoric and slurs were all too normalized in hockey, and even Scott couldn’t say he’d never laughed at one of the jokes from another player. He had never said any of it himself, but not saying anything could be just as damning.
So no, he couldn’t claim he was surprised in any way that some players wouldn’t look him in the eye anymore, that some of the coaches would scoff and whisper slurs under their breath, not even when he noticed some fans turning away after the revelation.
He certainly wasn’t surprised.
That wasn’t to say it didn’t hurt.
It fucking hurt. It really fucking hurt.
He had put years and so much effort into being the best he could possibly be. He had just won his team a MLH Cup for gods sake, and this was the treatment he was afforded?
It was a blow, but one he’d had plenty of time to mentally prepare for.
The MLH award ceremony where he had to shake hands with half the league and watch them wipe their palms off afterwards? Not so much.
The night was coming to an end though, and Scott couldn’t have been more grateful.
He sat with Kip by the bar, holding his boyfriend’s hand without a care for anyone looking. Kip gently rubbed a soothing thumb across the back of his hand, helping to keep him calm.
“Thirty minutes and we can go.” Kip whispered sweetly, words slurring a bit from all the drinks they’d consumed to stay sane.
Scott nodded slowly, motioning for the bartender to bring him another drink. One more couldn’t hurt.
Just as his drink was dropped off and he was taking his first sip, the infamous Ilya Rozanov sauntered towards them, a smarmy smirk on his face.
Scott’s hand tightened around Kip’s as he braced himself for the slew of homophobic comments that were sure to come. He was surprised when instead Rozanov… flirted with his boyfriend?
“If it isn’t the star of the entire evening.” Rozanov said with a grin as he came to a stop in front of them.
Scott puffed up his chest, ready to defend himself and Kip if necessary.
Then, Rozanov turned to Kip, smirk gaining a softer edge. “You are shining tonight, my star!”
Scott let out a squawk, feeling both slightly offended and kind of proud.
Then Rozanov continued and he settled on offended. “Why are you with this elderly person? We could find much hotter, younger man for you. Much more fun.” He said teasingly.
Scott blinked in shock, freezing a bit.
Kip, in contrast, burst into drunk giggles. “I think I’ll stick with my old, boring guy.” He said happily, tracing a finger around the rim of his glass.
Scott reared back, sending his partner a betrayed glare. “Hey!” He pouted.
Then he turned to Rozanov. “Leave him alone. He’s mine!”
This was not the kind of defending he thought he’d need to be doing but he didn’t mind it as much as he was pretending.
“Is okay.” Rozanov said to Kip, completely ignoring Scott. “I understand. Have old man of my own at home. Very boring too.”
Again, Scott gaped in surprise while Kip laughed heartily. Did Ilya Rozanov, notorious playboy, admit to having an “old and boring” man at home?
“Good for you!” Kip grinned drunkenly. “It’s hot, isn’t it?”
Scott scoffed, shaking his head and taking a sip of his drink.
Rozanov dramatically threw himself down onto the barstool next to Kip, resting his cheek against his palm. “Is so hot, right! I know! Why?” He said, as though he was commiserating with Kip.
Then he went on to brag about his apparent partner, absolutely gushing to Kip. Which was strange, given how many insults he was also using to describe him.
What the actual fuck was happening right now? Scott was so confused. Who the hell had locked down Ilya Rozanov?
Scott suffered for another several minutes, listening to Kip and Rozanov… gossip… like they were friends. He even heard Kip invite Rozanov to the Kingfisher tonight.
He was just about to turn to Kip and beg to leave but someone else interrupted before he had the chance.
“Ilya!” Shane Hollander bit out, coming over and glaring at Rozanov. He barely glanced over at Scott and Kip, just long enough to give a small smile before turning back to Rozanov with ire written across his face.
“Shane.” Rozanov purred back, clearly enjoying the annoyance it brought on his rival’s face.
Wait. Since when did they call each other by their first names? For as long as he could remember it was Hollander this and Rozanov that.
“You can’t just run off! We are trying to-“ Hollander cut off, suddenly taking full stock of the two other people sitting right in front of them. “Hello. Congratulations on… everything… Sorry.” Then he turned back to Rozanov. “We have to go! Right now.” He said through gritted teeth, spinning around and walking away without pause.
“Yes. Okay.” Rozanov said, tipping his glass at Kip and completely ignoring Scott before he trailed after Hollander like a lost puppy.
“Huh.” Kip said slowly, biting his lip in thought.
Scott turned to look at him. “What is it?” He asked curiously, still caught up in how nice Rozanov had been. Scott hadn’t thought him capable.
“Nothing.” Kip shrugged. “Just didn’t know Shane Hollander had it in him.”
“What do you mean?” Scott asked in confusion, looking back up to where Hollander was glaring heatedly at Rozanov, who was laughing. Asshole.
Kip turned to him with wide eyes, the beginnings of humor on his face. “You don’t…?”
Scott shook his head “What?” He asked, confusion growing.
“I can’t-“ Kip only laughed, snorting out loud when Scott expressed his confusion again. “You are so oblivious, babe.”
Whatever, he thought, shaking his head.
He looked back over at Rozanov, a new appreciation for the man growing. He certainly didn’t like the guy and that hadn’t been the interaction he was expecting when Ilya Rozanov approached him but he couldn’t complain.
Ilya was an asshole, but at least he wasn’t a homophobic asshole.
Scott couldn’t imagine how the hell the dude’s partner put up with him though.
He was a menace, boyfriend or not.