Chapter Text
2014 Wednesday November 12th-
The frantic pounding on his front door woke Shane from a deep sleep. Rozanov was already awake and sitting up.
Shane slid out of bed and stood up, pulling the folded tshirt from off the bedside table and pulling it on. “Stay here.” Shane said and Rozanov nodded.
Shane closed his bedroom door as he left and hurried down the hall to his front door. In the security camera screen he could see Hayden outside, and he unlocked and flung open his door, saying “Hayden?” as he opened it.
“Have you been online this morning?” Hayden said urgently, a wild look in his eyes.
“No, I was still asleep when you knocked.” Shane said, “What’s going on?”
“There’s a video.” Hayden said. “And it’s everywhere.”
“What video?” Shane said, confused.
“It’s-“ Hayden stopped, closed his mouth and then said, “it’s better if you just see it.” He pulled out his phone and pulled up Twitter, Shane saw his name and Ilya’s on the trending as well as sex tape and scandal. His heart lurched.
Hayden found the video and handed his phone over.
The video was silent, but it was slowly zooming in on a hotel room from another building across from it, focusing in on one room where two people were clearly pulling each other’s clothes off. As it zoomed in, Shane noted that the image quality was distressingly high, and his stomach clenched, and he gripped the phone tighter, panic building in his body.
As the video zoomed in closer, Shane's face was clearly visible. And just as visible was Ilya’s face as Shane slid down and took his cock in his mouth.
The panic turned to something else that he couldn't identify immediately. Shame? Exposure? Terror? Maybe all of them. He thought they’d been so careful! This thing they had. He'd known it was dangerous, that need, the insanity that overtook him every time they were around each other. It was a lit fuse andhe knew he should have ended it. He'd meant to. Months ago. Years ago. So many times. And now everyone knew. The thing he hadn't ever wanted anyone to know.
Shane pressed the lock button and closed his eyes. He could feel the shame and panic wrapping around him. He couldn’t breath. He couldn’t think. He felt like the blood was boiling in his veins. He could hear Hayden say something but couldn’t make out the words. Everything crashed in on him at once. Then, he felt a hand on his wrist, and it pulled him out of his panic. He looked up into Hayden’s eyes, worried and panicked.
“Are you with me?”
“Yeah.” Shane said.
“So-“ Hayden said, “I’m guessing it’s not just some doppelgänger?”
“No.” Shane said.
“And you and Rozanov-?” Hayden said, concern on his face.
Shane nodded.
“You should call him. You need a plan, this is everywhere. He might already know.”
Shane laughed slightly wildly, "No. No he doesn't." And Shane just turned and walked back down the hall and flung open his bedroom door, Hayden right behind him.
“We’re fucked.” He said, then saw Rozanov had his phone in his hand, a look of panic in his eyes.
“The fuck?” Hayden half whispered behind him, and Shane turned back to him. Hayden looked from Shane to Rozanov like this was the evidence that made him finally believe it and not the video.
“Can you give us a minute?” Shane said softly. "Please?" And Hayden nodded, retreating back to the living room.
Shane sat down beside Ilya who’d pulled his legs up towards his chest and was resting his head on his knees.
“This is very bad.” Rozanov said. “Worst bad.”
“Disaster. Yeah.” Shane said. “I don’t know what to do.”
“We cannot deny.” Rozanov said, “our faces-“ he closed his eyes, “very clear.”
“I should- we need-“ Shane froze, “Oh god, my parents!”
Rozanov’s expression tightened. Shane looked at him, they’d never discussed their families. Not really. He knew Ilya had a father, he’d seen him at the draft. And he thought there might be a brother, beyond that, he didn’t know, they'd never really talked about anything personal.
“Will your family-?” Shane said cautiously.
“No. And not just family. Russia. My passport. I don’t know-“ Rozanov closed his eyes.
“Get dressed.” Shane said. “I’ll call my mom, she’ll-“ Shane hesitated, “She’ll know what do.”
Rozanov's face closed off and he turned away and nodded, pulling his clothes off the floor and slipping them back on, while Shane picked up his phone. Coach Theriault was calling, and Shane almost answered, and then hesitated. No. He needed to talked to his mom, his manager, first. And then his agent.
When Rozanov was dressed, they stepped out of the bedroom, just as someone new pounded on his door. He ignored the barrage of incoming texts tapped the contact for his mom’s number as soon as Theriault went to voicemail, and she picked up immediately.
“Honey, we’re outside parking.” She said, and Shane rushed back to the door. His dad stepped inside first, and immediately wrapped Shane in a hug.
His mom stepped in beside them, and lay her hand on the side of Shane’s face. “When you didn’t answer the phone, we got in the car and started driving. We thought maybe you hadn't seen it yet.”
Shane shok his head, "We were up late, and I was asleep until Hayden showed up and showed me, you know. He's still here, in the living room."
“How are you holding up?” His dad asked, leaning back so he could look up at Shane’s face.
Shane opened his mouth to say something and realized he didn't know how he was doing, there hadn't been any time to figure out how he felt beyond panicked, so he just closed his eyes and shook his head slightly. His mom closed the door behind her and stepped into the hall and froze, Shane tensed up even more knowing what she must be seeing, and turned his head and saw Ilya had followed him partway down the hall.
“Rozanov.” She said, her voices little brittle, “I didn’t know-“ she hesitated. “Let’s all sit down so we can put together a plan.”
They all retreated back toward the living room, and Hayden was sitting on the couch holding a pillow against his chest when they walked in, he looked back up at them, his eyes stopping at Rosanov as if he still couldn't believe the man was actually here in Shane's house. Ilya immediately took the chair in the corner, the one furthest from all the other seats, and Shane sat on the couch near Hayden but closest to the chair Ilya was sitting in.
“Okay.” Yuna said, as soon as everyone was sitting. “Let’s lay it out. The hockey needs to be sorted first before we even talk about brands and endorsements. Shane, your next game is Thursday in Toronto. Rozanov, I’m not sure-“
“Tonight.” Ilya said. “We play Ottawa. I came last night. Late. Team arrives today, I have team meeting at 3.”
“Okay. Then we need to sort that out first. Montreal can wait a few minutes. Call your manager, unless-“ she hesitated, “Do you need to call your family?”
Ilya shook his head, “No. I know how that goes already.” He said in the most un-Ilya voice Shane had ever heard.
His mom’s expression shifted to one of sympathy. “Will there be a problem, with Russia?”
Ilya nodded curtly. “Maybe. Yes. Probably. I don’t know-“ he held out his hand which was shaking slightly, “I don’t know what though.”
“We’ll need an immigration attorney then. A good one.” Yuna said. “I’ll call Shane’s attorney and see if she has a recommendation. Maybe someone who knows both the US and Canadian systems, so you have options, I've heard the Canadian system is easier, but I don't know how that works since you technicaly live in Boston. Wait, you do live in Boston don't you?” She looked around, as if realizing that there were clearly many things she didn't actually know the answers to.
"Yes. Boston." Ilya said, glancing away, "Only visit Montreal."
"Okay." Yuna said, almost to herself. Shane knew that there was an entire conversation that was going to be coming about exactly what this thing with Rozanov was. Which was something he didn't actually know himself.
Hayden’s phone rang and he looked down at it and froze, “It’s Theriault.” He said looking up.
Shane shook his head. “Not yet.”
Hayden closed his eyes and nodded, setting his phone back down.
Yuna called Rita, Shane’s contract attorney, as Ilya called his manager, who he spoke to in long urgent sounding Russian.
Shane turned to his dad, who’d been sitting quietly beside his wife, and who was watching him concernedly.
“How did this-“ the man hesitated, “How long have you two been-“ he hesitated again, “together.” He finished lamely.
“We're not-" Shane hesitated and looked at Ilya whose expression was closed and gave nothing away as he listened intently to his phone call, and he reconsidered. Whatever this was they had done it together, and kept doing it together for years, they could figure out later what it was. "Since-“ Shane struggled to settle on a specific encounter, then finally settled on a simple “Rookie year.”
"No. Was before." Ilya interjected unexpectedly, looking up from his call with an intense look Shane couldn't name.
The memory of the CCM shoot shot through his mind, and he could feel himself blush, and strangely, to relax slightly and he nodded, "Yes, before."
“Holy shit.” Hayden said beside him, "That's before I met you. The whole time?" Hayden was looking at him.
David’s eyes were wide, as he glanced back at Rozanov, who was speaking urgently into his phone again.
“I’m still the same Shane.” He whispered, looking at Hayden.
“I know buddy. I just, how did I miss this?”
“We’ve gotten really good at hiding it.” Shane said quietly.
Shane’s phone lit up again, and he glanced down. Theriault again.
Shane closed his eyes, the panic rising again. He could hear Yuna end her call, and he opened them back up.
“Rita is calling around and sending someone over, there’s a few best options, but for Shane she’s calling personally and will call back when she finds someone.”
Across from him, Ilya said something fast and loud in Russian and then threw his phone at the wall. Shane looked over at alarm.
“Sorry,” Ilya said. “That was not okay. My manager, he has fired himself.”
“Quit.” Shane supplied. “Fuck.”
“What a loser.” Hayden said. “Quitting over one little sex scandal.”
Ilya looked at Hayden for a long moment. Then, very quietly but in an unmistakeable Rozanov chirping voice, he said, “Excuse me Pike, but did you not watch full video? Is definitely very large sex scandal.”
Shane closed his eyes, horrified. Ilya was making dick jokes at a time like this? In front of his parents?
“It was not that big Rozanov.” Hayden shot back.
“Okay.” His mom said cutting in, “so we need to add finding a new manager for Ilya to the list.”
“And agent.” Ilya said. “Both are from Russia.”
“Okay.” Yuna said, add ing that to her list.
“And Russia has revoked my passport.” Ilya added. “And work visa. So I am trapped in Canada and I cannot play hockey.”
“Okay.” Yuna said, “you should call, wait, no that won’t work, it should be your manager who calls the team. This is a work visa issue, definitely manager territory.”
“Can you call?” Shane asked.
Yuna looked at Ilya, “Are you okay with that?”
Ilya nodded. “Please. Maybe you can explain better. Maybe clearer.”
Shane got up and retrieved Ilya’s phone, which was only slightly cracked and still seemed to work, he handed it back to him. Ilya took it, and hesitantly touched Shane’s hand as he did. Shane returned the gentle squeeze, and some of the tension seemed to ease from Rozanov.
“We should talk.” Shane said softly, “About what this means for us.”
“Later.” Rozanov said quietly.
“Yeah. Of course.”
“Shane,” his mom says from across the room, “You need to call your coach. We need to see what Montreal is saying.”
Shane nods and turns back and picks up his phone, hitting redial on one of the many missed calls.
“Is it you?” Theriault said as soon as he answered the phone. His voice low and tight and full of repressed anger.
“Yeah.” Shane said.
“You’re benched.” Theriault said. “Indefinitely. Management will reach out as soon as they make a decision about your contract.” Then the man hung up.
The bottom fell out of Shane’s stomach. He felt unmoored.
“They’re benching me.” He said looking back at Ilya.