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“I’m glad this is the last hotel room we have to stay in for a few weeks,” Shane says as he pulls his suitcase into the room, letting the door close heavily behind him. “Fuck, I love hockey but I get so tired of all the travel.”
“Me too. I miss being home with Jackie and the kids,” Pike replied almost wistfully, leaving his case on the floor but unzipping it. He definitely wasn’t the kind of guy who enjoyed unpacking in every single city they ended up in, and didn’t mind in the least living out of a suitcase. He glanced at his watch and sighed. “Fuck, we haven’t got long until we need to get to the rink. Any idea what Coach wants, Cap?”
Shane shook his head. “No idea. I guess we’ll find out soon. Ready to head out?”
Hayden nodded, pulling his bag onto his shoulder. Years of having to drag around baby and toddler paraphernalia had meant a backpack was by now a staple for him, even if he didn’t have the children with him. Sometimes he envied Shane for his free and single lifestyle, watching him just pick up his phone, tapping out a reply before he slid it into his back pocket.
“Oi, quit texting Lily, man. Let’s go.”
“Fuck off,” Hollander replied, but there was no malice in his tone. “I wasn’t texting anyone.”
“I really don’t know why you bother to lie. You have that smile on your face when you text her. Trust me, man, I can read you.”
“Whatever. Let’s go, okay?”
Hayden laughed and clapped Shane’s shoulder as he walked past and out of the door, quietly wishing his friend would open up to him a little more about the woman he’d been texting for what felt like years now. It would be nice to know a little about her. Still, Hayden supposed Shane would share when he was ready. And Hayden would be right by his side when he did, as always.
***
The arena felt on fire that night. The Metros had been playing better than they had in a long time, somehow cohesive and a unit, just firing on all the right cylinders. They were certainly running rings around the Toronto Guardians, and the fact the match was happening on home turf for the Guardians made it even sweeter. Hayden couldn’t deny that he enjoying riling up an away crowd.
It was only minutes until the end of the match, and the Metros were up 4-1. It had been a quick and dirty match, with the Guardians playing roughly, not that it bothered the Metros. Every member of the team had been brilliant, and Hollander had scored three goals, and given an assist to the fourth. It was times like this that Hayden was pleased to be on the same team as his best friend. He knew he wouldn’t stand a hope if he were to ever be on an opposing team. Hollander played the sort of hockey that most people could only ever hope to emulate.
“Fuck, yeah!” Hayden called as Hollander hit the puck home one more time, making the Guardians defeat even more humiliating for them. It looked like they were heading home tonight one step closer to the play-offs. “Let’s go, Cap!”
With just fifty-eight seconds left on the clock, Hayden figured it would be a matter of running down the clock. They had nothing left to prove, and there was no way the Guardians would be able to claw back any semblance of victory. Still, Hollander skated like his life depended on it, and Hayden could only watch on in awe as he made it look easy, time and time again.
But things seemed too good to be true. The Guardians’ enforcer appeared just out of the sight of Hayden, slamming into Shane, and Hayden could only watch on in horror as Shane flew far too high into the air, landing back on the ice with a sickening crunch. It looked like something from a horror movie, and Hayden froze, unsure what to do. Deafening cheers filled the arena and that was what woke Hayden up, making him skate over, seeing Shane blink dazedly as the medics tended to him.
“You motherfucker!” Hayden yelled as he charged towards the man who had destroyed his best friend. Both the Metros and Guardians sped over and pulled the two men apart, Hayden continuing to yell out insults as he was dragged backwards, as far away as he could get.
When the red mist had finally disappeared, Hayden came to his senses and watched Shane being carried out of the arena on a spinal board. The whistle went, indicating the end of the game, and he hurriedly skated to catch up to Hollander, making it there quicker than the medics who were treading carefully on the icy surface.
“Hey, Hollander, you okay?” Hayden called, finally skating alongside the medics and his friend. “Shane?”
“Just… tell him I’m fine,” Shane said, slurring. Hayden could already see the bruises blooming on Hollander’s cheeks where his helmet had made contact with his face, and he clenched his fists, willing his anger down. “He’ll worry.”
“Yeah, I’ll call your dad, don’t worry,” Hayden replied as the medics got off the ice, hurrying now they were back on solid ground. Shane mumbled something in reply but it was inaudible. Hayden just sighed and turned, retreating back to the bench where the rest of the Metros were gathered, watching on in concern. “He’s awake. I guess they’ll take him to the hospital. I’ll get dressed and head over there.”
The locker room felt a little despondent as the players all showered and changed afterwards, missing the presence of their captain. Hayden washed and dried as quickly as he could, shoving all his kit into his bag before he turned to Hollander’s cubby. It was much neater than anyone else’s, and Hayden took time to carefully put everything into Shane’s kit bag, folding and taking care of each item as he knew his best friend would want him to.
“Give him our best, yeah? And text us, let us know he is,” J.J. said as Hayden hoisted his own backpack onto his shoulder, Shane’s hanging from his hand by his side.
“Yeah, I will, thanks man. Sorry to dash but…” he waved his hand, but received knowing nods from his teammates. “See you all later.”
His footsteps echoed down the corridor as he hurried towards his car, quickly texting Yuna and David, Shane's parents, to say he was on his way to visit the player, that he was awake when he left the ice. Usually, the Hollanders were at every game but typically this time, they’d taken a weekend away for their anniversary, and as a parent, Hayden could understand their anxiety, grateful they were able to text him and that he could at least provide some reassurance.
The drive over to Toronto General was slow thanks to game traffic on the road, and what should have taken twenty minutes took almost an hour. Hayden was sure his blood pressure was sky high by the time he parked up, finally finding a space amongst the hundreds of other hospital visitors.
Ten minutes later, he was outside of Shane’s room. The doctors hadn’t been able to tell him anything as he wasn’t one of Shane’s medical proxies, but after speaking to Shane, they’d agreed to allow him in to see him. Hayden took it as a good sign that Shane had approved him as a visitor, that clearly he was somewhat cognizant after that horrendous fall. He knocked gently and then walked inside the private room, smiling at the nurse who was doing something to the monitor at the side of the bed.
“Hey, Pike,” came Shane’s voice, soft and weaker than normal, but he was alive. “Fuck, my head hurts.”
“Not surprised. You went down hard,” Hayden said as he approached the bed, nodding at the nurse as she smiled at him, leaving the pair alone. “Seriously, how are you doing?”
Shane shrugged, letting out a pained sigh. “Ow. Said I’ve bruised my shoulder and ribs, and I have a concussion. They want to do another x-ray of my shoulder just to be sure, but they’re letting the pain meds kick in first.”
“They letting you out today?”
“Probably not. Said I have to stay here tonight because of the concussion and if all is good, then I can go tomorrow.”
“Fuck, man, that sucks.” Three pings in a row came from Hayden’s pocket, and he lifted out both phones that he’d shoved in there as he’d left the car. A quick look at his own device told him it was Shane’s phone pinging, and he turned it over to see a list of texts and missed calls, several from Lily. “Your phone has been going mad. I texted your parents and said you were awake, that I was coming to see you.”
“I’ll call them in a bit,” Shane said as Hayden handed the phone over to his friend. It pinged again and Hayden saw at least five texts from Lily on his homescreen. “Oi, give it.”
“Sorry. Looks like Lily is worried. Should probably give her a call, let her know you’re alive or something.”
“Yeah, I will do. Um, do I look like shit?”
“No more so than usual,” Hayden joked, pleased to see Shane smile in response. “Nah, you’re fine. Bit bashed up but you’ve still got your good looks, don’t worry. I’m sure a few bruises won’t put Lily off.”
The pair chatted about the match for a while, and Shane even made Hayden bring up a video of his collision on YouTube, the pair wincing as it was replayed in slow motion from two different camera angles.
“You didn’t have to fucking punch the guy,” Shane said as he rewound it, analysing it as he always did every single that happened to him during matches.
“Uh, yeah, I did. He slammed you on purpose because we were winning. That’s not fucking hockey, man.”
Another person entering the room made them both look up, and Hayden stood up straighter, waiting for the doctor to speak.
“Can I speak in front of your friend, or would you like him to wait outside?”
“He’s fine, you can say what you need,” Shane replied, and the doctor nodded. He explained quickly and succinctly that Shane had severe bruising on his shoulder and ribs, and that he’d be out of action for a week. He also had a concussion that he wanted to keep an eye on, and Shane sighed when it was confirmed that he’d be in hospital for at least that night.
“Fuck,” Shane cursed, falling back heavily against the pillows as the doctor left the room, warning Shane not to spend too much time on screens for the next forty eight hours. “Hey, would you mind grabbing me some of my clothes? They’re in my case in the room, I really don’t want to sit in this crappy thing all night.”
“I think you look amazing,” Hayden joked as Shane frowned down at the hospital gown he was sporting. “Nah, I get it. I’ll grab your stuff and bring it over, okay?”
“Thanks, man, I appreciate it.”
After chatting for a while longer, Hayden finally left and headed back to the hotel. The traffic was much lighter now, and he was pulling up at the hotel in no time. He yawned as he stepped into the elevator, letting it take him up to the fifth floor. He saw J.J. as he walked down the corridor to his room, pausing to reassure the man that Shane was alive and well, but staying in hospital for the night.
The hotel room was quiet as he let himself in, and Hayden took five minutes to sit himself down, texting Jackie to see how she and the kids were. He missed her terribly when they were on the road and he swiped through the pictures Jackie had sent him of the girls practising plaits on each other's hair, and baby Amber dozing happily in her bouncy chair. God, he was a lucky man.
He laid down to rest his eyes and startled awake nearly two hours later, cursing when he realised the time. Visiting hours at the hospital were thankfully open until ten as Shane wasn’t in an intensive care ward, and Hayden hopped to his feet, slapping his cheeks quickly to wake himself up.
He changed his own clothes before he went to Shane’s case, grunting as he picked it up and onto the spare bed in the hotel room. Usually, Shane packed fairly lightly so it surprised Hayden that Shane’s case felt so much heavier than his. Maybe that was the secret to the muscles Shane always seemed to be packing. There was no padlock on it, so Hayden unzipped it, flipping it open.
“Oh fuck,” Hayden cursed, looking at the mess within the case. Most of the clothes weren’t folded nicely, just flung inside, and it looked like a mess. “What the hell?” Hayden reached in and picked up a floral shirt, frowning at it. It didn’t look like one of Shane’s. Shane was not a floral shirt kind of guy.
Unable to stop himself, Hayden started to pick up and fold some of the clothes within, absolutely certain by now that this wasn’t Shane’s case. He wasn’t sure if it belonged to someone else on the team or if there had been a mix up at the airport or what, but he knew Shane was going to be pissed when he found out. When the top layer of clothes were out of the way, everything suddenly became horrifyingly clear. Yellow text on black fabric that Hayden would know anywhere, that left little doubt in Hayden’s mind who this suitcase belonged to.
“Holy shit.”
Hayden tentatively picked up the offending t-shirt by the shoulders, swallowing heavily as he saw the logo, with the word RAIDERS arched above it. It didn’t smell clean either, and Hayden screwed up his face, chucking it to one side. Surely not. It must be a mistake.
Despite knowing this was somewhat of an invasion of privacy now, Hayden wanted to confirm that this was what he feared it was. Part of him knew already that there was no doubt, but he had to be sure. A further rifle through the case turned up a toiletry bag (Hayden definitely wasn’t looking in there), an open box of condoms, a pack of cigarettes, two rolls of tape and finally… a novel. In Russian.
“Oh fucking fuck,” Hayden cursed. As he picked it up, something fell from between the pages and Hayden reached down, snatching it up. It was a bookmark with small pictures of lilies on it. He turned it over and his jaw dropped, reading the words in handwriting as familiar to him as his own.
To my Lily. I love you, always. S.
Unless Hayden was mistaken, it did appear that Lily was someone Hayden knew. That Lily, the girl his best friend had been texting for years, was Ilya Rozanov, his biggest rival on the ice. He wished there was some other explanation but right now, the evidence was pretty damning.
A ping from his phone startled Hayden, and he hurriedly dropped the book and bookmark back into the case, snatching up his phone.
Hollander: You forget about my clothes?
Pike: No, on my way! Sorry, fell asleep.
Hollander: No worries. See you soon. By the way, thanks for texting my parents. They were grateful you told them I was okay.
Hayden smiled and locked his phone, realising he needed to take Shane the clothes he promised him. He wanted to talk to him about Lily anyway. Before he could doubt himself, he snatched up what looked like a relatively clean pair of joggers and a t-shirt from the case, shoving both into his own bag. He absolutely drew the line at touching Rozanov’s underwear, and figured Shane could cope with the pair he had on now. Even going commando would be preferable to Hayden having to deal with Rozanov’s boxers.
The drive to the hospital was quiet as Hayden wondered exactly how to broach this with his best friend. He’d always wanted Shane to find a nice woman and settle down, to pop out a couple of kids that could play with his own. It always hurt that whenever they invited him over for dinner, he came alone, choosing to sit and play with the children while he and Jackie curled up together on the sofa, taking advantage of some free babysitting. Lily was never apparently on the radar to introduce to Shane’s friends, and now Hayden understood why.
But apparently, Shane had had someone all along. The last person Hayden ever expected him to end up with. He was surprised that Rozanov was into men, but less surprised about that revelation about Shane. Somehow, Hayden realised that he knew on some level that maybe Shane wasn’t entirely straight. He’d never shown a lot of interest in women, even on the rare occasions when he’d been dragged out to clubs by the team. Lily was the only woman that had ever been in Shane’s life, and now, somehow, it made sense that Lily wasn’t who Hayden thought she might be.
The corridors were quieter as Hayden made his way back to Shane’s room, the nurses nodding in recognition as he came into the ward. Shane’s door was closed again, and Hayden knocked, waiting for Shane to call him in before he stepped inside.
“Hey. Shit, man, those bruises are coming out,” Hayden said, setting the bag on the floor by his feet. It felt like an unexploded bomb, like when it was opened, it would detonate and destroy everything. ‘You feeling okay?”
“Just have a headache. They did the fucking x-ray, said I have a hairline fracture of my collarbone, so…” Shane said, nodding down at the sling now across his front. “I’m so pissed. I wanted to play next week. No fucking chance now.”
“Well, got to let yourself heal,” Hayden said, seeing Shane’s phone was now facedown on the bedside cabinet. “You spoke to your parents?.”
“Yeah, they facetimed me. Mom insisted on talking to the doctor,” Shane laughed with a roll of his eyes. Somehow Hayden wasn’t surprised that Yuna Hollander didn’t take her son’s word for it that he was fine. “She means well, I guess. But they’re flying home early, even though I told them I’d be okay at home.”
“You sure? You can come and stay with me and Jackie,” Hayden offered, but Shane shook his head. “Okay, well, the offer is there. Is, uh, is Lily going to come take care of you, or is that too far from Boston?”
“I, um, I’m not sure,” Shane said, and Hayden watched his adams apple bob as he swallowed nervously at that suggestion. “What clothes did you grab me?”
“Just sweatpants and a t-shirt,” Hayden answered, lifting the backpack up onto the bed. “And your deodorant and phone charger.” He didn't say just then that it was his own charger, that the one in Lily’s case wouldn’t fit Shane’s phone. “You, uh, you need a hand getting changed?”
Shane blushed but nodded. “I mean, I probably could but it’s gonna hurt like a motherfucker with this damn shoulder. You don’t mind?”
“Course not,” Hayden said, and he meant it. They shared a shower room at every game, and nudity wasn’t a big deal at all. What was a big deal, though, was talking to Shane about whose clothes he was going to be wearing, and why he had Ilya Rozanov’s suitcase, although it didn’t take a genius to work it all out like Hayden had done. “Shall I…”
“Please,” Shane replied as Hayden carefully unclipped the sling, pulling it gently from around his friend’s neck and arm, leaving it on the bed. They worked together to get the horrible hospital gown off Shane, and Hayden paused, seeing the red and purple marks mottling his best friend’s torso.
“Holy shit, Hollander, that looks fucking terrible,” Hayden couldn’t help but saying as his eyes roamed over the bruises. “Shit, they must be giving you the good stuff if you aren’t in that much pain.”
“Mm, but it still fucking hurts,” Shane said quietly through gritted teeth, and Hayden looked up, seeing his friend clearly was in a lot of pain. He apologised and pulled the gown off completely, leaving Shane just in his boxers on the bed. He reached for the bag and sighed, knowing this was the moment of truth. He could only pray it wasn’t going to ruin their friendship.
Shane’s phone pinged loudly, making Hayden jump and he turned with a groan, picking up his phone. Hayden could see it was a call from Lily, and he was unsurprised to watch Shane send the call to voicemail.
“You don’t need to answer that? I can leave you alone…”
“It can wait,” Shane said, moving slowly like every movement was agony. It probably was, and Hayden knew he needed to get this over with. “A t-shirt would be good, man. It’s cold in here.”
Instead of replying, Hayden just nodded and reached into the bag and pulled out the t-shirt and sweatpants he’d folded and put in there just a short while ago. Shane took them and shook out the t-shirt, freezing at the sight of it. Hayden hadn’t been brave enough to bring the Raiders t-shirt with him, but still, he knew that this brand wasn’t one of Shane’s sponsors, and that this company sponsored Rozanov.
“Shit, must’ve grabbed this from my dad’s dresser,” Shane blustered, his cheeks red as he shook it out, trying to get it on alone. It was clearly a size too big for him, and that was saying something. Shane was a big guy, over two hundred pounds of solid muscle, but this t-shirt looked like it would drown him. It reminded Hayden of when Jackie wore his clothes.
“Shane. Come on, man.”
“A little help would be good,” Shane gritted out, and Hayden nodded, springing into action. Thankfully, years of dressing wriggly babies and uncooperative toddlers meant Hayden knew what he was doing, and they carefully got Shane into the t-shirt and black joggers from the same brand. “Fuck that hurt. Thanks.”
It looked like Shane didn’t want to talk, but Hayden wasn’t going to have it, not now.
“Shane…”
“Don’t. Hayden, I don’t….” he sighed, and Hayden’s heart ached at how despondent his best friend looked. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Then let me say it,” Hayden said, hoping Jackie would be proud of how he was handling this. “Lily. Lily isn’t a woman, is she. And… we both know Lily, don’t we.” Neither sentence was a question, but somehow it felt like validation when Shane slowly nodded to the last one. Hayden still hadn’t named Rozanov, but he continued.
“How long?”
Shane swallowed before answering, reaching up to pull at his eyelashes, which Hayden knew was one of his nervous tells. “A while.”
“Weeks? Months?”
Shane’s answer was a whisper, but it may as well have been said through a loudspeaker for how it startled Hayden.
“Years.”
“Fuck.”
“You can’t tell anyone.”
“I would never. You’re my best friend, Shane. I would never do that. But you and… him. You didn’t think you could tell me? Did you think I’d have a problem with you being gay?”
“No, not at all,” Shane answered honestly, finally meeting Hayden’s eyes. It wasn’t a surprise to Hayden that tears were glistening in Shane’s eyes. “But I knew you’d have a problem with Ilya.”
The way Shane so easily used Rozanov’s first name was almost more confronting than finding Rozanov’s clothes and realising Lily was in fact the Russian man.
“I don’t like the guy, you’re right. I just want to… I don’t even know, understand this, maybe? Why…” he trailed off, not knowing how to finish that sentence.
“Why Ilya?” Shane finished, and Hayden just nodded, the pair sitting silently while Shane fiddled with the edge of the blanket over his legs. “He’s… everything to me. Yeah, he gives me shit on the ice, and he plays hard against me, and he always has to fucking win. He’s an asshole.” Hayden chuckled and nodded. “But he’s also the best person in the world. He’s kind and caring, he… he takes care of me.”
Hayden just blinked, almost unable to believe his best friend was talking about Rozanov in this way, but the way his features had softened and the way he was looking almost wistfully told Hayden everything.
“You love him.”
“I do. So much. So much it scares me, Hayd.”
“And he feels the same way?” Shane just nodded, smiling softly to himself. “Fuck. Okay.” Silence settled between the pair, and Hayden could see it was making Shane even more uncomfortable. “Alright, so… tell me about him.”
“What?”
“Please, Shane. You’ve got that stupid lovesick look on your face, like you want to burst with it. So tell me about Rozanov.”
Shane smiled and let out a long, slow breath before he began to speak. Hayden could hear the nervousness in his voice, the way his voice cracked, like this wasn’t something he was usually able to do.
“People think he’s this asshole, that he doesn’t care, that he enjoys pissing people off. And while that can be true on the ice, that’s only a tiny part of him. He’s so funny, Hayd, like he makes me properly laugh nearly every single day we’re together. He likes to cook, we eat together as much as we can, he makes sure it all fits in with my diet. He watches my stupid nature shows that I know he hates just because he wants to spend time with me and understand my interests. He’s so intelligent, people dismiss him too easily. I hate that. He’s just… this sounds so high school but he’s perfect to me, you know? I love him so fucking much.”
Hayden swallowed and nodded, almost feeling like he was intruding on Shane’s private thoughts. His best friend’s words were so honest, and it healed something in Hayden to see him so lovedrunk and happy. “I’m glad you feel that way about him, I really am. I mean, it’s weird to hear that Rozanov’s a human being after all, but… yeah, I guess I need to get to know him a bit better. For you.”
“That would mean a lot to me,” Shane all but whispered back, patting Hayden’s hand before he cleared his throat. “Thank you, for listening to all that.”
“It’s fine, really,” Hayden insisted, sensing Shane wanted to change the subject. “Since we’re being honest… how did you end up with his case?”
“How did you know it was his?” Shane asked, and Hayden understood him wanting to know.
“I obviously opened it to get your stuff that you wanted. But then I saw this shirt that I knew wasn’t yours and then… I saw a Raiders t-shirt. And a Russian book.” Shane blushed, and Hayden assumed he knew about-
“The bookmark. Shit. I told him not to fucking travel with it.”
“It’s a letter. S could be anyone. I only knew because you send my family like a billion cards a year for birthdays and Christmas. I’d know your handwriting anywhere.”
“Shit. Yeah, that makes sense. Fuck.”
“Listen, Shane…” Hayden started, seeing a look of uncertainty on his best friend’s face. “I’m happy for you. That you have someone who cares about you like you deserve. I’m not sure I understand it being Rozanov, but he clearly means a lot to you. And judging by all those texts and calls, he cares.”
“He does, he’s coming to see me. He’s my medical contact, along with my parents. He got a call as soon as I was admitted. I mean, he knew because he was watching the game at ho- at mine, but I needed to make sure that he’d know if something really bad ever happened to me,” Shane revealed and Hayden nodded, realising just how much thought was going into their relationship behind the scenes, things that would never have occurred to him. “Ilya doesn’t have a game for a week, so he came home with me to Montreal. We, uh, we try not to spend too much time apart if we don’t have to. But it’s not always that easy.”
Those words made Hayden realise just how shitty the situation was for Shane and Rozanov. Sure, he might not understand their dynamic or their relationship, but he couldn’t imagine being forcibly parted from Jackie all the time, forced to grab as many snatched moments as they could, sneaking around, hiding from everyone. He grabbed Shane’s forearm, squeezing as if it in solidarity, trying to say he got it.
“Does anyone else know?”
Shane paused then replied softly. “My parents. They, um, found us at my cottage last summer.” Hayden couldn’t help but laugh at that, covering his mouth when Shane just shook his head, a wry smile on his face. “It was my worst fucking nightmare come to life. But they were great about it. I mean, you know my parents. My mom kept saying ‘but you hate him’, and I just had to say well, yeah, sometimes, on the ice I do, but I actually love him.”
“And they’re cool about it now?”
“Yeah, they love him. Ilya is always joking he’s my Mom’s favourite son. Fucker.”
The room fell silent for a moment, and Hayden let the silence encapsulate them. He was grateful that Shane had been honest and not hidden his relationship anymore, but it still stung a little that he wasn’t in Shane’s circle of trust.
“Shit. That picture your mom posted on Instagram at Christmas. The four plates at the table, with that ‘family time’ caption. That fourth one was for Rozanov, wasn’t it?”
“Best Christmas dinner for long time,” came a familiar accented rumble from the doorway, and Hayden just stepped back, watching Shane’s face entirely light up as the person walked into the room. “Moy lyubimyy,” Rozanov said as he hurried in, letting the door close behind him, grabbing Shane’s hand, which was already outstretched and waiting for Rozanov’s. Hayden could only watch on from the sidelines as Ilya brought Shane’s hand to his lips and kissed it as his other hand gently cradled Shane’s cheek, running the pad of his thumb over Shane’s bruises and freckles. “You scared me.”
Hayden looked carefully at the other man, a man he usually despised on the ice, and was shocked by what he saw. Where Ilya’s features were usually hard, he looked soft, concern etched all over his face. His eyes looked entirely different as he stared at Shane. It was a lot to take in.
“I’m sorry. I’m okay.” Hayden could see that the look between them said everything without words, and he felt his cheeks flush.
“Promise me? I’m sorry I took so long, traffic was-”
“It doesn’t matter,” Shane interrupted, tilting his chin back. Hayden couldn’t look away as they kissed gently, a tender kiss full of love. “You’re here now. I love you, Ilya.”
“I love you too, Shane.”
They were almost lost in their own world, and Hayden felt like he was interrupting what should have been a private moment. Hearing them so easily declare their love for each other moved something deep inside him. He cleared his throat, and both men looked over at him, Rozanov’s face instantly hardening at the sight of him.
“Pike. You will not speak of this, yes?”
“Hey, calm down,” Shane said, pressing a hand to Rozanov. “Ilya, hey, look at me. I trust Hayden. He’s my best friend, he’d never betray me.”
“Well, if he does, I know where to find him,” Ilya replied, responding to Shane but his gaze was fixed on Hayden.
“I have your case,” Shane said, gesturing to the clothes he was wearing. “I asked Hayd to get me some clothes from the hotel, but I didn’t realise we’d pick up the wrong cases. He obviously knew when he opened it that the stuff wasn’t mine.”
“Yeah, the Raiders t-shirt was a giveaway,” Hayden said, deciding not to bring up the Russian book and the bookmark just yet. He didn't want to embarrass them. It was obviously something special if Rozanov travelled with it. “Look, Shane, I’ll let you two have some time together. Do you need anything else?”
“No, I’m good now. But… Hayd… thank you. For being cool about this. For being a good friend.”
Hayden went back to the bed and leaned down, giving Shane a gentle hug.
“I’m so happy for you, man. You deserve to be happy,” he whispered in Shane’s ear before he stood back up, holding out his hand to Rozanov. “Look after him, yeah?”
“Always,” Rozanov stated as he shook Hayden’s hand, and somehow Hayden didn’t doubt it. “Thank you for being good friend to Shane.”
“Of course. And I swear, I won’t say anything. It’s not my business. I’m heading home tomorrow so I’ll take your stuff with me. Your parents or, uh, Rozanov-”
“Ilya.” The Russian accent was somehow softer now.
“Yeah, um, your parents or Ilya can grab it whenever. Take care, okay, man?”
“Will do. And thanks again, Hayd,” Shane said and Hayden headed for the door, resting his hand on the door handle. He paused, turning around to see Shane gently shuffling over, making room for Ilya on the bed, even if the other man was protesting that he needed to rest. It looked intimate, and Hayden felt like he was intruding on their private time.
He slipped out of the doorway without saying another word and pulled the door closed with a soft click behind him. He headed down the corridor, exhausted and ready to collapse into bed when-
“Pike, wait.”
On the ice, he’d ignore any time that Rozanov called his name, but now, Hayden stopped where he was. He headed back towards the other man and they stepped into a quieter side corridor.
“I need to know you will not talk about this.”
“I told you already, I wouldn’t do that. Not to Shane.”
“You don’t like me. Maybe you want to fuck things up for me.”
“I don’t like you on the ice, no. But trust me when I say I would never do anything to hurt Shane, or anyone close to him. You’re part of that now. I’ll protect your secret, Rozanov.”
Rozanov regarded him for a minute and finally nodded, slowly like he wasn’t sure whether to trust the other man still.
“You make him happy,” Hayden spoke softly, keeping his voice low. No one but Rozanov needed to hear this. “And that’s what’s important to me. The way he spoke about you, I’ve never heard him talk like that about anyone. And, weirdly enough, I can see how much you love him. How much he means to you.”
“He is everything,” Rozanov said, and Hayden admired the fact he was able to say that out loud, to someone he’d only just learned he could trust. “Goodnight, Hayden.”
Hayden knew when he was being dismissed. “Goodnight, Ilya,” Hayden said, the word feeling foreign on his tongue. “Take care of him.”
“I will. Thank you again.”
They shared a curt nod, and finally, Hayden turned away, walking to the elevators to take him back to the hotel. He missed Jackie and the kids, and couldn’t wait to facetime them in the morning. It felt good to leave Shane in the hospital knowing Rozanov was with him, but he still couldn’t believe Shane had managed to keep their romance secret for years. How many exactly? Two, five, the eight years they’d known each other? Surely not.
He arrived back at his car and sat inside, slumping down behind the wheel, tiredness taking over. His phone pinged, and he quickly checked it in case it was Shane needing something, or Jackie wanting to talk. Strangely enough, it was a new group chat.
Unknown number: I know where you live, Pike.
Shane: That was Ilya. Ignore him.
Unknown number: I have Russian friends who can make you disappear.
Shane: Jesus Christ, Ilya, stop! He won’t say anything.
Unknown number: Oh I know. Be good boy, Pike.
Hayden: I’m a vault. I promise.
Rozanov: Right answer.
Shane: I’m muting you, Ilya. Goodnight Hayd, thanks again for everything.
Hayd: Anytime. Get some sleep.
Rozanov: We will. Later. 😈
Well, fuck. That was one mental image Hayden really didn’t need.