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It had been about a month since that dreaded Monday evening, and they still hadn’t talked about it. Shane had returned to the rink about a week later, recovered and healthy once more, and then… nothing.

They talked, sure. Hayden talked about Jackie and the kids, Shane talked about his parents, they discussed hockey and the upcoming playoffs, but they didn’t mention it. Hayden certainly didn’t want to be the one to bring it up - he didn’t want to think about it at all. And Shane would look at him sometimes, open his mouth like he was about to say something, and then shake his head and turn away, cheeks red.

Hayden had asked JJ, Shane hadn’t spoken to him either. Hayden was starting to suspect this was just how they were going to handle it for the rest of time, pretending he and JJ had never made that fateful visit and were still none the wiser. It wouldn’t have been the worst outcome.

Then Boston came into town to play Montreal.

Hayden should’ve fucking known. Of course Rozanov’s mere presence in his country was gonna cause a fucking problem. The man was a walking headache.

His phone dinged one evening, a few days before the match.

Shane (8:42): Hey, do you want to come over to mine after the game on Friday? I’m inviting JJ too.

Shane (8:43): Ilya will be there.

Shane (8:43): I thought you could get to know him. Like for real.

Shane (8:44): It’ll be fun. I’ll be the one feeding you for a change.

Shane (8:44): Please?

Hayden stared at the messages in disbelief. Shane could not be doing this to him. Hayden could not think of a worse possible Friday night than eating Shane’s disgusting food and getting to know Ilya Rozanov.

A call from JJ started to come through, and Hayden clicked accept immediately.

“Dude!” JJ’s voice rang out. “Please tell me you’ve seen!”

Hayden grimaced. “I’ve seen. Do you think we can say no?”

“I’m not saying no,” laughed JJ. He sounded far too excited for Hayden’s liking. “I want to see what the fuck happens. You aren’t a little bit interested in seeing them like that?”

“No.”

“Boo! Get on board, man, this is the weirdest relationship that’s ever existed. I feel like a scientist that’s discovered, like, a new breed of slug or something. It’s, like… how does that thing even survive? It’s like I’m David Attenborough right now.”

Hayden made a mental note to get better friends. “Well, if you’re going then I definitely can’t skip,” he complained. “So we’re going to have to spend the whole evening, what? Making nice with Rozanov? And that sounds fun to you?”

“No, I’m going to bring popcorn and watch you spend the whole evening making nice with Rozanov.”

“Fuck you.”

“Do you think you’ll end up hitting him?”

“I’m not gonna fucking hit him!” Hayden exclaimed. “I’m not the one who’s a Neanderthal.”

“Friday night, mon cherie,” JJ cooed. “Get ready!”

~

Friday didn’t get off to a great start. Hayden got woken up at five in the morning by Amber crying, then they fucking lost to Boston, with Rozanov scoring a hat trick. Hayden got given a black eye from a fight with Marlow. When the game was over and they were doing the handshakes, Rozanov had to go and wink at him, with a simple. “See you later, Pike.”

So no, he wasn’t really in the mood for dinner, after all that.

Hayden grit his teeth and finished his handshakes with as much professionalism as he had left in him. He begged off doing any press and went straight into the showers before getting changed. Some of the others were talking about going out and partying away the loss - it wasn’t like he’d normally join in, normally he’d feel much better to just get home to Jackie and the kids as quickly as possible and put it all behind him. But now he didn’t even have that to look forward to.

JJ and Shane had both gone to talk to reporters, so Hayden was ready to go before either of them. He went to go and wait in his car, savouring the last few minutes of peace he was going to get for the next few hours. Preparing himself, mentally.

He figured he had to at least look like he was giving Rozanov a chance. He hated it. But he knew Shane wouldn’t listen to him unless it seemed like he had at least tried his best in this dinner. So he had resolved to play nice, as nice as he could, at least for tonight.

And then, when Shane had been reassured that Hayden wasn’t just being difficult, he would steer Shane towards a nicer guy. One of Jackie’s friends who did yoga, and watched Jimmy Fallon, and did not get off on antagonising everyone else.

He really did want Shane to be happy. He had spent the past month thinking of nothing but that. And he had come to the conclusion that there was no way on this earth that Ilya Rozanov was the man to do that. 

It took about thirty minutes until Shane and JJ came out of the building, and Hayden waved at them, feeling he’d regained at least some sense of calm. He put his key in the ignition and followed Shane out of the parking lot, JJ in the car behind him.

Rozanov wasn’t there when they arrived at Shane’s apartment, but Shane seemed unconcerned, letting them in and leading them up the stairs. 

“I think we still have a chance at the playoffs,” he was saying, “as long as we beat New York and Toronto, it’s not the end of the world.”

Hayden couldn’t care less about the playoffs right now.

“Where is he?” JJ asked.

“Oh.” Shane shrugged. “He’ll get here. I’m sure he won’t be long.”

“Nice of him to be punctual,” muttered Hayden sarcastically.

“He’ll get here,” Shane repeated. “Do you guys want to watch the highlights while we wait? I want to go over a pass I made in the third period.”

Of course Shane wanted to watch the hockey match the three of them had just played. Hayden shrugged, and Shane went to go and switch the TV on. They all settled on the sofa, and as the minutes ticked by, Hayden started to get hopeful. Maybe Rozanov was going to stand Shane up, and this whole disaster would be over before it had even begun. He wouldn’t put it past the Russian.

Then, after about twenty minutes, there was the sound of the door opening, and Shane leapt to his feet. Hayden shared a glance with JJ and got to his feet much slower, trailing behind Shane reluctantly.

Rozanov walked in - no, more like prowled. It took Hayden a few seconds to realise, but - Rozanov had a key. Hayden didn’t even have a key.

Rozanov was carrying two full grocery bags, and dumped them unceremoniously on the kitchen island. He ignored both Hayden and JJ, and turned only to Shane. “Hello, sweetheart,” he said, and then kissed Shane on the lips.

It wasn’t like it was a particularly deep, or romantic, or sensual kiss. It was quick, over in a second, just a greeting. But it was the first kiss between them that Hayden had witnessed, and he thought it might be the worst type of all. Because it was casual, and comfortable; the two of them kissed like it was second nature, like it was breathing. Like Hayden kissed Jackie when he came home. And it confirmed all his worst fears - that this was something real.

“Congratulations,” Shane said, and Hayden was glad to hear at least a little bit of tension in that word.

“I love hearing you say that,” Rozanov said, his voice low, even lower than it normally was, as he stared at Shane. “Tell me more.”

Shane laughed, shoving at his chest. “Fuck you. There is no more, you got lucky.”

“Oh? Three goals, I just got lucky?”

“I’m gonna get you next time.”

It was the first time Rozanov even acknowledged Hayden or JJ were in the room, as his eyes flitted between them. “You think so, with team you have?”

Hayden was incensed immediately - about to respond, but Shane got there first.

“Ilya, you promised.”

“Yes, yes, I know. Was just having fun. Will be good boy from now on.” He was grinning like a madman, and made the sign of a cross over his chest. “Perfect boyscout, will not even mention about Pike losing fight.”

“Fuck. You,” Hayden shot back.

Shane stared at Rozanov, then looked at his watch. “Two minutes and thirty eight seconds. Do I call it now?”

“No, no!” Rozanov said quickly, eyes widening  and holding his arms up in surrender. Hayden didn't quite understand. "I'm done, I am on best behaviour from now on, I swear.”

“........Okay,” Shane said skeptically, “but I’m watching you.”

Rozanov gestured to the groceries that were laid out on the marbletop. “Look, I brought all the food. Ready to be good host.”

Shane started unpacking the bags. “This isn’t tempeh,” he said, eyebrows furrowing in disapproval. “I thought you were making that again, I liked that.”

“I know,” Rozanov said. “I will do again another time. But I found new recipe on google - tofu and quinoa with miso.” Rozanov pronounced quinoa like kwin-oa. Hayden made a mental note to bring it up later, and embarrass Rozanov properly. “And veggies. You will like, I promise.”

“...Okay,” Shane said, a bit warily. “I’ll try it.”

Rozanov glanced between Hayden and JJ. “You know all about his crazy diet, yes?”

Hayden felt like he was going insane. Obviously he knew about Shane’s diet, he didn’t know about any world where Rozanov needed to check with Hayden and JJ that they knew something about Shane. Still, the two of them nodded.

Rozanov continued happily. “So I come over, yes? And what is in his fridge? Nothing but chicken, rice and vegetables. I say, Hollander, do you order take out every night? He says no, this is all I eat.” Rozanov shook his head. “I say, no, diet might be excuse, but you are boring. So now, he tells me about diet, and I show him he can still enjoy food. Does not have to all taste like cardboard, even with stupid rules.”

Shane chuckled, looking down. “He’s, uh, he’s not lying. He makes me something new, every time we’re together. It’s, uh… yeah.” Shane couldn’t finish his sentence, but Hayden saw the way he was grinning, saw the way his cheeks were glowing red. If Shane were talking about anyone other than Rozanov, Hayden would be over the moon. Instead, he was somewhere between guarded and already angry.

It would have been easier, but Rozanov acted so confidently about his position in Shane’s life. So confidently, and easily. The way he walked in the front door like it didn’t matter, the way he teased Shane about his diet like it was normal. Moving about Shane’s life, languid and unbothered.

“Rozanov fucking cooks stupid food for Shane,” JJ said, amusement thick in his voice. “That’s fucking amazing. You do his laundry too?”

“Shut up, Boiziau,” Rozanov replied. He started to dig through the kitchen, taking out various pans and switching the hob on. He knew where everything was, Hayden noted. An awkward silence started to settle, as the three of them watched him.

“Do, um, do you guys want a drink?” Shane asked. “We’ve got, uh, beer, coke. Sprite.”

“Beer, please,” Hayden said.

JJ raised a hand. “Me too.”

Rozanov pursed his lips, but didn’t say anything.

“Okay, you can go sit down.” Shane gestured to the table. “I’ll get it.”

Hayden sighed heavily, moving to go and sit next to JJ and watch as Shane and Rozanov shuffled around each other in the kitchen.

“You will lay table too,” Rozanov said to Shane. “This is quick, will only take ten minutes.”

“Okay.” Shane abandoned the beers on the countertop, and started getting out dishes instead. He laid the whole table before going back for the drinks. Hayden was forced to wait, as Shane followed Rozanov’s order.

“So,” Shane said, sitting opposite him and JJ as Rozanov continued to cook, “what’s been going on with you two? Are you still seeing that girl, J? Uh…”

JJ nodded. “Lisa. Yeah, it’s going okay. She wants to meet my parents, though. Dunno why chicks always want to do that.”

“Just get it over with,” Hayden advised. “They only need to meet your mom once to realise they hate her.”

“It’s not like we’re getting married, even. We said we were going to be casual, now she wants to meet my family, it’s like, what the fuck?”

“In-laws, man. They all suck, just wait until you’re married and you have to put up with them during every fricking Christmas and birthday.”

“Harry,” Rozanov called from where he was stood. “You do not like your partner’s parents?”

Hayden stared at him, unamused. “You know that’s not my name.”

“Harvey?”

JJ snorted. 

“You know it’s Hayden,” Hayden snapped.

Rozanov grinned at him unapologetically. “Right, right. Sorry.”

Shane was massaging the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “Ilya, I’m docking ten minutes.”

“Boo.” Rozanov blew a raspberry at Shane’s back. “But seriously, Pike, you do not like your in-laws?”

Hayden shrugged. “They’re fine, I guess. Just annoying.”

“Hm. I am big fan of Yuna and David.”

JJ leaned forward, beaming, and took a big swig of his beer. “Yes, please, I want to hear about Rozanov meeting the parents.”

“Uh, no,” Shane said, shaking his head. “We don’t need to re-live that.”

“You are boring, moy lyubimyy.” Ilya took the huge wok he had been tending to off the hob. “But no matter, I am done anyway. Food is ready.” He walked over, dumping a ladle of some sort of noodley broth thing into each of their bowls and then discarding the wok in the sink.

Hayden stared at it. It did smell good.

Rozanov walked back over with a large bowl of leafy green shit and looked directly at Shane. “I have also made your gross vegetables.”

“Thank you.”

“I add soy sauce.”

Shane folded his arms. “Ilya, you know I can’t- the MSG, the salt.”

“Is special treat. Goes with rest of food.” Rozanov continued staring at Shane, leaning one side of his body against the table. “I promise, if you are so worried about salt, I’ll make sure you sweat it all out tonight."

Jesus Christ.

“Jesus Christ,” Shane said. “Don’t fucking- Oh my God, you know what, it doesn’t even matter, just sit down, I’ll have your stupid soy sauce.”

Rozanov placed the greens in the centre of the table and sat down, looking extremely pleased with himself.

~

“You tell them?” Ilya asked. They were ten minutes into the meal, and for some reason, they were talking about Shane’s new coffee machine, which was still sitting in its box in the hallway.

Shane pulled a face. “Obviously not.”

“Oh, so I get to tell them?”

“Fuck off. You don’t get to tell them shit.”

Rozanov grinned, looking at Hayden and JJ. “He ordered blender. For his disgusting smoothies, yes? Anyway, texts me, says he has broken blender trying to set it up. I tell him, order again, watch youtube video if you cannot follow instructions. He does, still breaks blender a second time.” Rozanov laughed. Shane looked like he was in physical pain. “So I say, forget it. Order blender third time, and I will set it up for you.” He gestured to the blender, sitting prettily in the corner of the island. “I work it out, takes ten minutes. I do not mind. But I say to Hollander, just let me set up coffee machine. I am not going through all this again.”

Hayden and JJ stared, responseless, as Rozanov looked at them expectantly.

“He only cares now because he wants his coffee in the morning,” Shane groused. “He was not this concerned about my smoothies."

Rozanov turned to him. “Obviously. I do not care at all about your gross breakfast, Hollander. I did it only because you wanted, da?”

Hayden had to watch as Shane’s embarrassed pout transformed into a full-on beam. “Yeah. Thank you.”

Rozanov stared at him for a few seconds, his face unreadable, and then turned back to his plate. “Yes,” he said. “You wanted it. So, I put it together for you. Was not that hard.”

“Still, thank you.”

Rozanov rolled his eyes. “I said already, stop saying thank you. You ask, I will do whatever you want. Shut up about it.”

Even Hayden had to admit, that was quite sweet.

Rozanov continued. “When I want you to beg, I will let you know.”

That was less sweet. Hayden was back to being somewhere between throwing hands and throwing up. Shane’s ears had gone bright red.

“Brilliant,” JJ whispered in awe.

~

When they had all finished, Rozanov stood up. “I smoke now,” he said. “You will wash up, yes?”

“Uh,” Shane said, narrowing his eyes, “I thought you were supposed to be quitting.”

“What? I won game today, it is a celebration.”

“Last time you lost, you said you needed one then as well.”

“Yes.” Rozanov looked at Shane like he was being stupid. “That was a consolation cigarette. This is a celebration cigarette.”

“Oh, so you get one after every game, huh?”

“Funny, that.”

Shane stood up too and started gathering the empty dishes. “Just go,” he said shortly.

Rozanov watched, as Shane piled up the four bowls, dumping all the cutlery into the one on the top with an unnecessary clatter.

“Smoking’s bad for you, you know,” Hayden couldn’t resist commenting.

Rozanov’s eyes slid over to him, annoyed. “Oh, really? I am hearing this for first time, thank you, Hugo.”

“Man, fuck you! That’s not even close!”

Rozanov’s lips curled into a smirk, and Hayden mentally hit himself for giving the man a reaction. “Will be on balcony,” he said, turning back to Shane. Shane ignored him. “...Lyubimy.”

Shane glared at Rozanov for a few seconds. Rozanov waited. Then Shane had to go and kiss him. Hayden’s spark of hope was stamped out instantly. Rozanov was still smirking as he left the room.

“Buddy,” JJ said, grinning wildly. “Amazing night. Can’t believe you thought this would be a good idea.”

“Thank you, JJ,” Shane said sarcastically.

“How many fucking names does he have for you?” 

“I dunno,” muttered Shane. “Lots, I guess.”

“I can’t believe I saw Rozanov call someone sweetheart.”

“Yes, alright.” Shane looked - fucking bashful. “...Hayd?” he asked. “Thoughts?”

“He’s a prick,” Hayden said. He was just stating the facts.

“Look, he’s trying, okay. He could be way worse.”

Hayden’s eyebrows crept upwards. “Ringing endorsement right there.”

“Sorry, God, I know no one wants to be here-”

“I do,” JJ cut in.

“Okay, except JJ, who’s here just to laugh.” Shane stalked away to the sink, carrying all the crockery. “God forbid I ask my friends and my boyfriend to get along for one fucking night.”

Hayden sighed. He felt a little bit guilty - just a little. “...Let me help you with that,” he said, going and grabbing a kitchen towel to do the drying up.

~

Rozanov didn’t come back inside until all the washing and the drying up was done. Hayden, JJ and Shane had moved to the living room with new drinks, and Hayden was telling them about Amber’s first word. He took a seat irritatingly close to Shane on the couch, and Hayden’s eyes tracked Rozanov’s hand as it lay possessively over Shane’s thigh.

“This is eighth kid, yes?” Rozanov asked.

Hayden narrowed his eyes. “Fourth.”

“Ah. Congratulations.”

“...Thank you.” Hayden waited suspiciously, but no smartass comment followed. “Anyway, so, Jackie got it on video,” he said. “So that was nice, at least.”

“Cow is a pretty weird first word,” JJ said.

“Piss off,” Hayden replied, “she likes her cow fucking picture book, that’s all.”

“What was yours?” Rozanov asked, looking at Shane. “Probably hockey, no?”

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“Am not!”

“It was mama, like everyone else’s.”

Rozanov’s eyes sparkled. “Makes sense. You are mama’s boy.”

“You’re so annoying, God.”

“No, is okay. I was too.”

Shane softened, his hands finding Rozanov’s hair, and Hayden shifted awkwardly. Everyone knew Rozanov had lost his mother young - he’d never heard Rozanov mention her, though. Even when he got an (admittedly out of line) question about it during a press conference, he would simply ignore the reporter and pick on someone else.

Years back, a couple of guys in the league had gotten their teeth knocked out for making your-mom chirps to Rozanov during a game. It hadn’t taken long for every player in the NHL to realise that topic was off limits.

JJ cleared his throat, and Rozanov’s eyes darted over to the two of them, like he had forgotten they were there.

“What?” he asked, jutting his chin out, the tenderness that had been on his face disappearing in a second.

“Nothing,” JJ said quickly. Hayden took a long sip of his beer, staring at the ceiling.

“...So,” Shane said loudly. And oh, things had to be bad if Shane was the one breaking an awkward silence. “Ilya has some news to share with you both.”

Hayden glanced back towards the Russian. “You do?” he asked suspiciously.

Rozanov grinned at him, all sharp teeth and hard lines. “Da. Is my last season for Boston, then I am moving to Ottawa.”

Fuck. 

“...But Ottawa sucks,” JJ said.

“Tactful,” Shane muttered under his breath.

“Is true,” Rozanov replied, “but so do I, so I think I will fit in.”

It took a few seconds to sink in. Then JJ started to guffaw, Shane buried his face in his hands, and Hayden really wished for his life to be over.

“Ilya, can you quit it and be serious for five minutes, please?”

“I am being very serious! Where is lie?”

“Wait a second,” Hayden interrupted. “Are you for real, why would you leave Boston?”

Rozanov’s hand left Shane’s thigh just to grab his cheeks instead, squishing Shane’s face and shaking it roughly. “For this,” he said, like Hayden was an idiot. “Duh.”

Shane slapped Rozanov’s hand away. Rozanov caught Shane’s grasp, and now they were holding hands, and that was just great, Hayden thought.

“We have a whole plan,” Shane said, looking between him and JJ. And then Hayden had to hear about how Rozanov was moving to his fucking country, and was going to be just two hours away for the whole year, and that he was going to have to volunteer at a fucking hockey club with the asshole.

And try to look supportive the whole time. Jesus Christ.

~

Shane and Rozanov went back to the kitchen a few minutes later, to get everyone another round, and Hayden turned to JJ.

“You think this is a good idea?” he asked.

“I dunno man.” JJ shrugged. “You think they’d listen to us if we said it wasn’t?”

Probably not. “I’m going for a piss,” Hayden said instead, pulling himself to his feet. He really was just planning on going to the bathroom, but he heard the muffled voices through the kitchen door. And he couldn’t help himself, his legs stopped working of their own accord, and he hovered outside, leaning in just slightly so he could hear better.

“They liked the idea of a charity, at least,” Shane was saying.

“Yes, because they are polite Canadians who cannot say no to such a selfless idea,” Rozanov replied impatiently. “They do not like us together.”

“Well, I don't care what they think, I care about you.”

Rozanov snorted. “Forget about me, I am here whatever happens,” he said. “Your team has done very well under you, won two Cups. Should be more accommodating to their Captain.”

Shane hummed.

“Pike and Boiziau, they are not being mean to you, no? You have not said anything. Tell me if they are, I will knock them out next match.”

“No, no.” Shane sighed, softly. “I just… Want you all to get along.”

“Is okay.” Hayden heard the wet sounds of a kiss. “It is whatever you want, Shane, always. You know that, yes?”

“Yeah.”

“I am playing host to your teammates, da? I have cooked, let them drink my beer.”

“You keep telling embarrassing stories about me.”

“You say I cannot tease them, I must be allowed to tease you at least.”

“Don’t start, you’re teasing Hayden as well.” 

Hayden stood up a bit straighter, hearing Shane stand up for him. 

“Oh, barely,” Rozanov said dismissively. “He makes it too easy.”

“Do you want your reward or not?”

Hayden started backing away from the door, as quickly as he could while staying silent. 

“Oh, I will get it,” he still heard Rozanov say. “It has been… hmm, seventy-three minutes so far. I think I will get to edge you for at least two hours tonight.”

No, no, no, no. Hayden started to back away quicker, he did not want to know anything about the sick sex games Shane and Rozanov were playing. He stumbled backwards into the living room, and JJ stared at him in confusion.

“...You okay, dude?”

“Yeah,” Hayden said faintly. “Just…” He couldn’t explain. He could not give JJ this ammunition. “Just got a bit light-headed for a second.”

~

Hayden did feel somewhat bad, though. Even if Rozanov was a dick, it was undeniable at this point that he cared for Shane. And Hayden didn’t want to be the one putting his best friend through any unnecessary stress.

He could be the bigger man, he decided. He and Rozanov should at least be able to be civil with each other, especially if Rozanov really was going to be around so much more next year.

“Thank you for the food,” he said to Rozanov as it got to the end of the evening, outstretching a hand.

Rozanov eyed the hand for a few seconds, like it was some kind of alien life form. Hayden stiffened. But then he stepped forward (still taking his sweet time) and shook it. “Yes,” he said. Then he glanced at Shane, and somehow deigned to stand up straight. “You are welcome, Pike,” he added, not quite sincere, but not his usual openly-mocking tone either.

Hayden supposed it would have to do.

“And thanks for the vodka,” JJ said cheerily.

Rozanov’s nostrils flared. “I did not give you any of my vodka. Hollander, did you-”

“Alright,” Shane said, clapping his hands together. “Thanks for coming guys. Probably was about as successful as could be expected. See you on Monday.”

He started ushering them out, and Hayden paused, still looking at Rozanov. “Look, man,” he said, “we don’t need to be friends or anything. You just keep looking after Shane in whatever gross way you do, and I think we’ll be able to tolerate each other, yeah?”

“Is not gross.”

“Alright,” Hayden said, chuckling. “I saw you two when Shane was sick, don’t forget.”

Rozanov stared blankly for a few seconds. “... Ah, you do not like that I let him cough in my hands? You think is gross.”

Hayden stared at him. “It is gross,” he said.

“Eh, maybe. But you should know, I have already had my tongue in his asshole. A lot.” Rozanov grinned. “So a bit coughing is not a big deal, you see?”

JJ whooped.

Shane let out a strangled noise, throwing his hands up.

Hayden punched Rozanov, right in his smug jaw.

Rozanov took it and laughed, loud and triumphant. “You have a weak right hook, Hank.”