Work Text:
Marly knows better than anyone that Roz is way different from what people think he is. Everyone thinks Roz is a cool Russian guy who doesn’t give a fuck about anything except playing amazing hockey, drinking expensive vodka, and hooking up with hot people.
And it’s not not true - Marly’s known Roz since his rookie year and he was fucking wild. But it also means Marly’s known Roz long enough to he’s more than that. Roz is great with kids. He does way more than his share of charity stuff, especially for kids and animals, and always on the quiet. Marly’s pretty sure he donates his own money too. He looks out for the rookies, doesn’t put up with anyone being bullied in his room - chirping’s one thing, being a dick to hurt people for fun is another. Roz is a good guy.
Marly’s also known Roz long enough to notice some shit. The big one is that summers are bad. Most pro hockey players love summer - the weather’s warm, they’re not working, they can spend time with friends and family instead of other stinky hockey players.
Not for Roz. It takes Marly a couple of summers to get that Roz hates summers. The end of the season is always a little rough, unless they win the Cup, but it’s a million times worse with Roz. He gets tense and quiet, or too loud and edgy. Either way, he pulls away from the rest of the guys, even though most teams throw a big party to end the season, even when there are vets retiring or guys moving to other teams. Then he disappears for the summer, mostly leaves everyone’s messages on read, sometimes sends back one word or an emoji.
Roz always looks like shit when he comes back from the off-season. Not for hockey - people are right that Roz takes hockey seriously, works hard to make sure he plays amazing hockey. But he looks shit in other ways that Marly is sure other people don’t notice. Roz’s eyes look tired and old or something after a summer in Russia.
So Marly fucking notices when Roz comes back after the summer and he looks happy. Literally glowing. He’s all smiley too - a real smile, not the fake one he puts on for media or for strangers he doesn’t like.
So yeah, Marly knows something is going on.
“I need pot,” Roz snaps.
Marly just nods. “Sure, man.” Roz usually smokes normal cigarettes - and hardly ever these days, he’s really been cutting back - but pre-season hasn’t even started yet. Is this why Roz came back after the summer looking so relaxed? He’s just been smoking a fuckton of weed?
Apparently not because Roz rolls his eyes like Marly’s had one too many concussions. “No, Marly - I need pot for cooking.”
It’s how Marly gets dragged along to the fancy pot department in some fancy fucking store. He didn’t even know there were so many pot options! But there are - different shapes, different sizes, pots made of different things for different reasons to be used in different ways. So many pots. And they’re fucking expensive. Marly’s used to expensive cars and booze, he’s bought expensive shoes and bags and jewellery for girlfriends. But pots? What the fuck.
Roz takes forever too. It feels like he looks at every damn pot in the store. He finally narrows it down to two big pots. One is silver and sleek with a glass lid. One comes in different colours, and is so heavy they could use it instead of weights when they’re lifting. Both of them cost way more than Marly thinks a pot should cost.
“Just pick one,” Marly sighs.
“Which one? Both are good.”
“Get both then!” Marly doesn’t really mean it because who needs two fucking expensive pots but Roz’s contract is huge and he can afford it. He expects Roz to call him an idiot and pick one of the pots to buy. Instead, Roz looks at him like he’s a genius.
“Okay. I get both.”
But then Roz has to decide what colour and that takes even longer. Marly expects Roz to choose black or golden yellow - Raiders colours - or bright red or something. But Roz chooses really pale blue. He notices Marly looking at him.
“To match shirt.”
“Dude, you’re wearing a black shirt.”
“I like this blue.”
“Ugh, fine.” At least it’s not fucking Metros blue.
Marly figures that’ll be the end of it, that Roz had some weird pot thing for whatever reason but he’s scratched that itch and things will go back to normal.
He’s wrong.
Roz parties with the team but he’ll usually take them out to the latest club in the VIP section or book a private room at some exclusive restaurant. Once or twice a season he’ll invite them to his house with catered food and every type of booze he can think of. He sure as fuck doesn’t invite them around to his house to cook for them.
Most of the team are just happy to get food. The rookies are extra excited to be included. The vets that know Roz also know something’s up. Because Roz actually looks like he knows what he’s doing. He’s using both his fancy new pots - they’re bubbling on the stove and the whole place smells amazing, like real cooking, not poison or dog food at all.
“Nice, bro. What is it?” Marly asks.
“‘Spaghetti,” Roz answers.
Connors looks suspiciously at the pots. “That doesn’t look like the spaghetti I have.”
Roz scoffs like he’s a legit chef or something and not a guy that would happily eat McDonalds for breakfast every day if the team nutritionists wouldn’t murder him. “Your spaghetti is fake red sauce from a jar. This is real sauce, made from scratch - takes hours. Simmering.”
Marly’s more than a little impressed because it sure sounds like Roz knows what he’s talking about and the food does smell fucking amazing.
Connors is unconvinced. “Wait . . . Is this going to be like the tuna melts? We ate those fucking things for weeks when you were learning how to make them. It’s like you bullied us into liking them. And then you got sick of them, never made them again, and got pissed any time anyone ever mentioned tuna melts!”
Roz scowls, the same way he always does when anyone mentions tuna melts these days - it’s a touchy topic since the Great Tuna Melt Disaster. “Shut up. I like pasta. Spaghetti is ready now.”
Hockey players don’t turn down great food so Connors fills his plate with a mountain of ragu from the pot, same as the rest of them. And, damn, Roz is good at this whole cooking pasta thing because it tastes fucking great. He even has fancy cheese to sprinkle on top - not the powder stuff in a plastic jar, but real cheese that looks like someone grated it into tiny fine pieces.
“I never had parmesan this good before,” Marly says, his mouth half full of pasta.
“Parmigiano reggiano,” Roz says, sounding all smug and European. “Here, have more - pasta tastes better with more.”
Pro hockey players spent a lot of time on planes. Mostly they sleep, play video games or cards, watch movies, shoot the shit with each other. Roz is no different.
This season, Roz starts reading.
At first, Marly thinks he’s on his socials or something - until he leans over Roz to grab something and gets a closer look at his iPad.
“The New Yorker?” Marly asks, confused.
Roz raises his eyebrows. “Yes.”
Marly would get it if Roz was reading like The Hockey News or Sports Illustrated or something. But the New Yorker is about, uh, serious stuff. It’s for thinking and shit, not just looking at the photos.
“Why?”
Roz just shrugs. “Is interesting. See, here is story about family who sells pain drugs and make so much money but everyone gets addicted.”
“That sounds interesting,” Marly admits. Hockey players are always in pain. It’s a long fucking season, everyone gets banged up, and they’re not getting paid millions to sit out just because their bodies hurt.
“I’ll share story with you.”
Marly’s seen this Fast and Furious movie a dozen times so he clicks the link Roz sends him. He reads the whole thing and realises Roz isn’t wrong - it is an interesting story. Marly doesn’t think he wants to get a subscription to the New Yorker too though.
The next time the Raiders fly out for a stretch of away game, Roz doesn’t just have his iPad and a New Yorker subscription.
“When did you get a Kindle?” he asks. Like iPads are way better - you can watch videos and shit, not just read boring old books.
“Is Kobo, not Kindle,” Roz corrects him, sounding all superior like Marly thought his Lambo was a shitty Jeep.
“Huh? What’s the difference?”
“Kobo is Canadian. And Japanese.”
“Right.” Marly tells himself he should just shut the fuck up and mind his own fucking business. But he’s too curious for his own good. “What are you reading?”
Marly expects some celebrity book that someone else actually wrote for them - his mom loves those, she says they’re trashy and relaxing and fun - or maybe a book version of a movie. But Roz flips his Ki- uh, Kobo over so Marly can see the cover of the book and, oh God, it looks so boring. The cover is filled with words. There isn’t even a picture on it anywhere! One of the words is ‘investing’.
“Dude, you’re reading about investing?”
“Is important.”
“Hell yeah,” Hammer agrees loudly, stretching over excitedly to butt in. “Bitcoin to the moon, woo!”
Roz makes a judgemental face, like Hammer just said he likes pushing nice old ladies into oncoming traffic. “Crypto is gambling - is for dumb fratboys and greedy idiots, like my brother.”
“Uh, okay,” Marly says. “So, what do you invest in, Roz?”
Roz taps his Kobo. “I’m still learning. But I think I like real estate.”
“Boooo-ring,” Hammer boos.
Roz just shrugs. “I like boring.”
Marly watches Roz extra close after that. Roz’s contract is huge and he’s never been interested in investing - or money stuff in general - before now. But he’s known Roz long enough to know that his family is really fucked up. They never visit but they call him enough - and Marly doesn’t speak Russian but he knows angry voices when he hears them. They always seem to call whenever Roz and the team are doing really well or Roz’s face is everywhere on some new ad. Marly is pretty sure they’re asking Roz for money.
So Marly’s not sure he likes this investing thing that Roz is into now. And he really starts to worry when he sees Roz stopping and texting as he’s reading the boring investment book. Marly sneaks a look at who he’s texting and doesn’t feel reassured at all. There’s no one called David on the Centaurs roster.
“Hey, Rozy - you okay, brother?”
Roz gives him a weird look. “Huh?”
Marly nods at the phone in Roz’s hand. “Is that piece of shit Alexei hounding you for money again? Who’s David? His dealer? His bookie?”
“No!” Roz shoves his phone into his pocket, like he’s trying to protect it.
“Is that what this investing stuff is about? Needing more money for whatever shady bullshit Alexei has going on? C’mon, I can help.”
“No, is not like that,” Roz says firmly.
“Why’s he hassling you?”
For a moment, Marly thinks Roz will just tell him to fuck off and mind his own business, the same way he always does when he’s dealing with Russia stuff. Roz is really touchy about it. Instead, Roz hesitates, like he’s deciding something.
“David is not hassling me.”
Marly doesn’t know if he should believe Roz - the guy’s bad at asking for help, even when he needs it. Especially when he needs it.
“Who’s David then?”
Roz lets out a sigh, like Marly being completely unreasonable for asking. “David is Jane’s dad. He knows about money stuff, works for Treasury Board in Canada. I ask him when I have questions.”
Marly feels like he’s taken a bad check and needs the concussion protocol. Because Montreal Jane is a fucking legend in the Raiders. Roz is like a shark with his hookups - always moving. Never the same girl twice, no matter how hot or freaky she is. The only exception is Montreal Jane, the girl Roz keeps going back to ever since he was a rookie. She’s a total mystery though and no one knows anything about her except that she drives Roz crazy.
So of course as soon as Roz says it, they’re completely fucking surrounded hockey players shouting and cheering and calling out questions because they’re all nosey as fuck.
“Jane?” Marly asks, amazed. “The Montreal Jane? You know her dad?”
Marly half expects Roz to just laugh it off, tell them that it’s just a joke because he knows the team loves gossiping about Montreal Jane and trying to drag answers from him about her.
But Roz just smiles. “Yes. I met Jane’s parents over the summer.”
Whoa. This is nuts. Meeting the parents is serious fucking business, way more serious than just having a favourite hookup, even if it goes on for years and years. Meeting the parents isn’t hookup stuff at all - it’s fucking relationship territory.
“Is this why you came back from the off-season looking so fucking happy?” Marly demands. “Did you spend summer with Jane?”
“I thought you go back to Russia over summer,” Connors asks, because he’s a complete fucking moron who hasn’t realised that Russia is a touchy subject for Roz. St Vic elbows him hard and hisses at Connors to shut up at least.
“I used to,” Roz says. “But my father is dead and my brother hates me - and Jane invited me to her cottage for two weeks.”
“And?!” shouts St Vic. “What happened?”
Marly has never seen a smile like this on Roz’s face - it’s all soft and shit. “It was . . . perfect.” The smile curves back into Roz’s usual smirk then. “Her dad almost caught us fucking.”
“Whaaaaat?” Hammer screeches so loud that it hurts Marly’s ears.
Marly stares at Roz. “Jane’s dad almost caught the two of you fucking but now you’re buddies and talk about investment tips? What the fuck?”
“Jane’s mama is scarier than her dad,” Roz informs them proudly. “And they were shocked at first - they didn’t know Jane had a boyfriend, thought she was only very serious about her career. But they are very fair and invited us for lunch and now they’re happy about me and Jane.”
“So it’s official then?” Marly asks. “You and Jane are serious?”
Roz gives that soft smile again. “Very serious.”
The guys jump on the opportunity like a loose puck.
“What’s she look like?” Carmy asks.
“Is she hot?” Hammer adds, waggling his eyebrows.
“Of course Jane is hot,” Connor scoffs. “She locked down Roz - I bet she’s a fucking smokeshow.”
“But what does she look like?” Carmy repeats. “Plenty of ways to look hot.”
Roz answers immediately “Beautiful. Dark hair - so soft. Big brown eyes - they’re soft too, but she glares so hard when she’s mad at me.” He laughs, like Jane glaring at him is the best thing ever. “And beautiful freckles. So cute.”
“How’d you meet?” asks Sebbin.
Roz laughs again. “She scolded me for smoking, then said my hockey was good.”
“How’d it get serious with you and Jane?” asks St Vic. Marly gives a nod of approval - St Vic’s a smart guy, always knows the play on and off the ice.
“Was just fucking, at first,” Roz admits. “For a long time. Even after I knew it was more.
St Vic nods, all wise and shit. “Fucked around and caught feelings.”
“What’s she like?” Carmy asks.
“Jane loves hockey. She loves her work - she is the best, sometimes second best. She likes yoga to relax. Boring books too - and wears cute sexy glasses to read. She likes outside - lake, woods, even just garden and grass. She likes birds, even scary ones.”
Hammer scrunches up his face because he’s a dumbass and he’s trying to think. “Dude, she sounds boring.”
“Watch your fucking mouth,” Marly orders. “You’re talking about Roz’s girl.”
Roz gives Hammer the kind of look he’d give a cocky callup trying to chirp him on centre ice. “You don’t understand love, Hammer - is why you will never have a girlfriend or wife, only be alone with your right hand.”
Hammer gets all offended at that. “I’m left-handed!”
“How’d you spend two weeks in Montreal and not get papped?” Connors wonders. “I didn’t even see you on socials.”
“We were at Jane’s cottage,” Roz explains. “It’s between Montreal and Ottawa, where her parents are. No reporters, no photographers - only lake, and trees, and Canadian wolfbirds. And it wasn’t two weeks, it was for whole summer.”
Marly knows that’s important. There are guys who’ve gotten divorced because they found out that the whole off-season was too long to spend with their wives. And here’s Roz looking loved up about Montreal Jane after being in the middle of nowhere with her for weeks.
“So when’s Jane moving to Boston?” Marly asks.
Roz’s happy glow fades a bit. “Is hard. Jane has important job in Montreal.”
“But you’ve been doing the long distance thing for years,” Sebbin protests. “The two of you are going to keep doing it?”
“Yeah, man, you have an important job in Boston,” Hammer says. “Jane can be an Instagram model from Boston as easy as she can in Montreal.”
Roz rolls his eyes. “I told you - Jane has very important job so she has to stay in Montreal.”
Hammer still looks like he doesn’t believe it. “What even is her very important fucking job? Is Jane the Mayor of Montreal or something?”
“It’d hit it,” Carmy says, nodding like he might actually think that the fucking Mayor of Montreal is dating Roz.
“Shut up, you dumbfucks,” Marly orders. “Long distance sucks.” The guys grumble but they do say sorry to Roz. They all play pro hockey, and they all know that hooking up is easy but dating long distance is hard. He turns back to Roz. “That’s tough, man. But, hey, maybe we can meet Jane the next time we’re in Montreal, or if she ever comes down to Boston.”
“Maybe,” Roz says.
Marly notices that Roz kind of opens up about Jane after that, at least a bit. He stops hiding when he’s texting her, even though that goofy smile always gives it away anyway. Sometimes he answers if one of the guys asks about her, at least if the question isn’t too fucking stupid.
“We should hit the clubs after the next home game,” Hammer says. “Three days off in a row, woo!”
“Can’t,” Roz says. “Jane.”
“Huh?” Hammer looks even more confused than usual.
“That’s sweet, man,” Marly says. “You driving or flying?”
“Flying. Is faster - more time together.”
Marly nods. “Makes sense.” Long distance is bad enough with a girlfriend at home - it must be way harder with Jane in Montreal, like she’s on the road too. “Tell her hi from us.”
Marly almost falls off the exercise bike when he sees Roz on the TV. Roz is looking sharp and serious in some dark suit and he’s sitting next to Shane fucking Hollander like they haven’t been the league’s biggest rivalry for years.
It’s such a shock that the rest of the team in the Raiders’ gym stop their workouts and just stare at the TV - Connor’s mouth is actually hanging open. At least it means Marly can actually hear what Roz and Hollander are saying.
Marly doesn’t know anything about Roz’s mom. She never calls Roz like his shithead brother or his asshole dad. Marly kind of assumed that Roz parents were divorced - he knows Roz has a stepmom - and his real mom was just out of the picture. Not dead, just not around. Roz never talks about her - until today. It’s kind of weird to think that Roz must’ve talked about it to Hollander though, since they’re starting a whole charity for mental health stuff.
Marly hopes Jane isn’t too mad that Roz is using couple time with her to do charity stuff with Shane Hollander.
Of course, Roz just strolls into the training room two days later like nothing’s happened. The guys shout questions and stuff but Roz plays it cool until Hammer opens his fucking mouth.
“Man, I didn’t know Hollander was fucking crazy,” Hammer says. “That’s why he’s into this mental shit, right?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Marly snaps and shoves him, hard. Because Marly knows the look Roz gets before he drops gloves on the ice and it’s the same look on his face now as he looks at Hammer. Turns out Hammer isn’t totally stupid because he raises both hands like he’s surrendering and takes a step back.
St Vic breaks the silence. “Sorry to hear about your maman, cap.”
“Yeah, man - my cousin has depression. It’s really rough,” Connor adds.
Roz nods but his shoulders are still all tense. Marly keeps an eye on it and he’s glad that Roz relaxes as everyone gets back to their workouts. The training room’s quieter than usual though - guys talk in low voices, even the music playing isn’t pumped up to max volume.
It lets Marly think. He figures Roz never hated Hollander. He’s seen Roz with players that he actually hates - pieces of shit like Dallas Kent and that winger from Nashville who’s always posting weird political stuff and whose main chirp is to call everyone a fag. Roz is never like that with Hollander - instead, he’s excited to play against him.
Marly speeds up on the treadmill as he imagines it and grins to himself. Roz and Hollander must’ve become buddies at the All Star Game. That’s the first time they ever played together on the same team, since the league usually loves playing up their rivalry instead. And they were fucking amazing on the same line. Marly bets they liked that, having a teammate who can keep up and play on the same level, miles above anyone else in the league.
And Marly hates the Metros but he doesn’t hate Hollander. Because Hollander’s a good guy - awkward and quiet and really tightly wound but, like, sincere and honest and shit. Marly can see how Hollander would be someone Roz could trust with the heavy stuff about his mom.
Marly gives Roz a rough one-armed bro-hug as he leaves the gym. “It’s cool you’re friends with Hollander.”
Playing against the Centaurs isn’t easy - they’re the worst team in the league but they win sometimes - but it’s easier than most other teams. The Raiders are pros though and they take every game seriously.
So it’s a surprise to see Roz glitch out in the middle of his pre-game stretches on ice. Marly thinks for a moment that Roz is injured and that’s why he’s just staring up at the jumbotron. Marly catches a glimpse of some middle-aged guy before the camera moves on. Roz is moving again too so maybe it was just a cramp or something. Whatever it is, he shakes it off because he plays like a beast and nets two goals. They beat the Centaurs.
It always feels good to win - Marly’s happy he got an assist off one of Roz’s goals - so the locker room’s buzzing. Until Roz whistles loud enough to cut through the noise, and glares at them all like they forgot to wear skates on the ice and lost 3-1 tonight instead of winning.
“Showers,” Roz orders. “Get dressed nice. Five minutes.”
“What the fuck?” Connors yelps.
“Five minutes,” Roz repeats. “Comb your hair too.”
“Cap, wanna tell us what’s up?” Marly asks.
“Very important guest is coming to the locker room,” Roz says. “Four minutes.”
Marly feels like they’re little kids waiting outside the principal’s office as the guys wait in their game day suits, shirt tucked in, and ties done up properly. Who the fuck does Roz want them to meet? The Prime Minister of Canada lives in Ottawa, right? Except Marly’s pretty sure Roz doesn’t give a shit about the Prime Minister. Marly can tell Roz is actually nervous about this though, like they’re meeting his in-laws or something.
Marly sure as shit doesn’t expect Roz’s very important guest to be Shane Hollander’s dad.
Marly keeps an eye on Roz. He can be weird about older guys who are like important and in charge of stuff, like he has to be on his best behaviour or he’ll get in trouble - Marly thinks it might have something to do with Roz’s dad. Marly needs to make sure Hollander’s dad isn’t going to talk shit to Roz because he and Hollander were rivals, especially since Roz is trying so hard to be nice.
The Raiders get VIPs in the locker room. It usually sucks - either they kiss ass or they try to act too cool to try and fit in. It turns out Hollander’s dad is a chill guy though. He obviously knows a lot about hockey but he’s not a dick about it, trying to show he’s smart. He lets the guys talk, chips in once in a while but really just lets it flow. He laughs at the dumb jokes the guys make. He doesn’t try too hard. Marly’s played enough hockey to know when a guy’s good in the room and he’s pretty sure Hollander’s dad would’ve been great on any hockey team he played for.
“Shane and Ilya really appreciate the Raiders coaching at the hockey camps,” Hollander’s dad says. “We all do.” He means it too - Marly can tell when someone’s blowing smoke up his ass.
“Uh, thanks, Mr Hollander,” Marly says and he’s kind of embarrassed at the compliment. Roz and Hollander are hockey superstars - Marly’s just kind of famous in Boston and in hockey but he’s no one compared to Roz and Hollander. He’s pretty sure Roz and Hollander could run the hockey camps by themselves and it would be just as good and make just as much money for their charity.
“Just David is good.”
Huh. It’s weird that Roz’s girlfriend and Roz’s friend have dads with the same name, and that both dads live in Ottawa too. Hockey’s a small world.
Marly isn’t a watch guy but Carmy is and he’s the one who notices when Roz shows up with a really nice new Rolex.
“Nice watch, cap,” Carmy says, eyeing up Roz’s watch with a nod of approval. “Real nice.”
Roz grins wide. “Present from my Jane.”
Marly might not know watches but he knows Rolexes aren’t cheap and the one Roz is wearing is sparkling with all the diamonds.
“Does it count as a present if she bought it for you with your money?” Hammer asks, thinking hard. He’s got the same expression on his face that he does when he’s trying to decide whether he wants to eat a red apple or a green one.
“Shut up, man,” Sebbin says, rolling his eyes. “Don’t you remember Roz said his girl had a big, important job? I bet she makes mad money.”
“Jane makes more money than me,” Roz says, looking smug as shit.
Lots of the guys scoff at that because Roz makes shit tons of money. His cap hit is the highest out of all the guys - the Raiders literally build the team around Roz to work around how much they pay him.
“What the fuck is Jane’s job then?” Hammer asks, his eyes bugging out. “Is she a fucking movie star or something?”
“Jane’s job is much better than being a movie star,” Roz says, looking down his nose at Hammer, even though Hammer’s taller.
“Glad your Jane looks after you,” Marly says. Because Roz is a generous guy - he does plenty for the team, and the guys, and even his crappy family. He’s nice to the staff that look after the team and the rink - lots of players just treat them like they’re invisible - and waitresses, and bartenders, and flight attendants. He’s, like, considerate and shit. Roz is definitely doing things for Jane, so Marly thinks it’s really cool that Jane is generous back.
“What do you do when you want to buy Jane a present?” Connors asks. “Isn’t it hard if she can just buy stuff herself?”
“No, is hard because Jane doesn’t like good presents,” Roz sighs, except he’s doing the Jane smile again so it’s obvious he’s actually really happy about it. “She says ‘Ilya, I do not want a Ferrari, is not good in winter snow’ and ‘Ilya, I don’t need designer clothes because I have an old T-shirt’.”
“You want to buy your girl a Ferrari?” Hammer screeches.
“Yes. Ferrari is beautiful and fast, like Jane.”
“Well, what does Jane want as a present?” Carmy asks.
“Vacuum cleaner,” Roz says, throwing his hands up like he’s protesting a bad call from a ref. “In case there is mess between when cleaners come to Jane’s apartment - but the cleaners come every day.”
“I bought my mom a vacuum cleaner for Christmas,” Connors adds, trying to be helpful. “She liked it.”
St Vic shakes his head. “Conny, your maman should disown you. Roz, Jane sounds like a practical person so maybe buy her something that isn’t useful at all? Something that’s just fun or cool or whatever.”
A slow smile spreads over Roz’s face. “Yes. Is perfect.”
Marly’s usually good at not being bored on plane rides but he doesn’t feel like watching a movie, he’s caught up with the podcasts he listens to, and he’s too awake to nap. That’s why he’s reading a glossy magazine Sebbin lends him - it actually belongs to Sebbin’s girlfriend, who’s a Victoria Secret model, and Sebbin reads them to be all supportive and shit. Marly thinks the magazine is weird - the clothes don’t look like anything anyone would ever wear and they’re all really fucking expensive.
But the weirdest thing is the double page spread of Roz advertising some fancy designer.
Roz is really famous in hockey but the Raiders aren’t even the biggest sports team in Boston - it’s tough to admit but more people know the Patriots and Celtics. Hockey fans and proud Bostonians know Roz but he’s not like ‘super luxury designer brands want my face and abs’ level famous. Like he was so pissed when he and Hollander were still rivals and Hollander got more famous than him by dating Rose Landry. Oh well. Marly shrugs it off - maybe Roz just got a great sponsorship.
Except then it happens again. This time it’s a video ad of Roz speeding in a red Ferrari convertible. Marly’s always been a truck guy but he admits that even he wants a Ferrari too after watching the ad - Jane must be a strong woman to resist that.
The third time it happens, the Raiders are in New York to play the Admirals. Marly looks up as they’re crossing the street and there’s a billboard covering the whole side of a building. Marly trips over his own feet and almost gets run over by a taxi. Because the giant billboard is filled with a picture of Roz and Hollander wearing pretty much nothing except a few drops of water and lots and lots of diamonds. They’re staring at each other like Marly stares at a pulled pork sandwich. Marly’s really impressed - he didn’t know they were this good at acting.
Marly asks Roz about it at team dinner. “What’s with all the new ads you’re in, man? Did you get a new manager or something?”
Roz shrugs. “Sort of.”
“Hannah says your ads are dope,” Sebbin says. He’s so excited he’s actually bouncing in his chair. “Like you’re a supermodel now, cap.”
“The WAG chat’s blowing up too,” Carmy adds. “Everyone thinks you and Hollander are hot anyway but apparently you’re even hotter together.”
“Especially since it’s all for charity,” Connors says. “The only way it could be hotter is if you were rescuing puppies from a burning building together.”
Carmy nods. “Naked.”
“That’s dumb,” Connors says, with a frown. “They’d get burned too if they were naked. Then who’d rescue the puppies, huh?”
“So who’s your new manager?” Marly asks. Roz’s old agent was some Russian guy who spoke perfect English but always talked to people like they were a waste of his time - even Roz, and Marly bets Roz was making that fuckhead heaps of money in commission.
“Is not official manager. Yuna is just giving me good advice. Since I’m friends with Shane.”
Marly lets out a low whistle. The rest of the guys nod because they’re impressed too. The whole fucking league knows that Shane Hollander has the best sponsorships because his mom’s a kickass manager.
“That’s nice of her,” Marly says.
“Eh, she could just be smart and greedy,” Hammer says. “If Roz makes more money, then she gets more money because she’s his manager.”
“Yuna is not greedy,” Roz snarls, showing all his teeth like a growling bear. “She is not official manager so she doesn’t take money.”
That surprises Marly - Yuna Hollander is like the Shane Hollander of managers. She could be charging Roz a lot for her advice. “That’s really nice of her then.”
Wow. Roz and Hollander must be really good friends if Hollander’s mom is helping Roz with his sponsorships for free.
Marly’s birthday is in the middle of the season so he never celebrates it on the actual day and doesn’t do much for it - this year it’s just drinks with the guys and the WAGs on a random Tuesday when they’re not playing a game.
Roz winces when Marly tells him the date and time for birthday drinks. “Sorry, Marly - the Hollanders are in Boston and we’re having a business dinner to do Irina Foundation stuff.”
“Hey, man, that’s cool. Go do the business dinner and come to drinks after - hell, bring Hollander along.”
Roz looks at Marly like he’s trying to decide if it’s a joke. “Really?”
“Yeah? You’re buddies, right?”
It’s how the Raiders and WAGs end up meeting Roz and Hollander and Hollander’s parents outside the cool cocktail bar Marly picked for his birthday.
Mr Hollander - uh, David - shakes Marly’s hand and wishes him happy birthday. Yuna Hollander shakes Marly’s hand like she’s deciding whether to check him hard into the boards, except she’ll do it in a conference room instead of on the ice. “Happy birthday,” she says, and she’s polite but Marly can’t tell if she really means it.
“Thank you, Mrs Hollander. Would you and Mr Hollander like to join us for drinks?” Marly’s had a few concussions but he knows not to mess around with anything less than his very best manners for Yuna Hollander.
She smiles a bit at that. “Oh, no - but thank you.”
Hollander’s parents both hug him goodbye and he hugs them back. Marly figures it’s just another sign that Hollander’s a good guy - plenty of players, some of them Raiders, would act like it’s embarrassing that their parents give a shit about them. Marly also really likes how both of Hollander’s parents hug Roz goodbye too - Mrs Hollander even ruffles Roz’s hair.
“You boys have a good night. Have fun, stay safe!”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Yes, Yuna. Goodnight!”
“Text us if you need anything,” David adds.
“Yes, Dad.”
“We will, David.”
Seeing Roz act like a little boyfriend meeting the in-laws is the cutest fucking thing Marly’s seen since his mom adopted a new puppy.
Roz slings his arm around Hollander’s neck and glues himself to Hollander’s side - and Roz is a touchy guy but Marly’s seen Roz sit further away from actual hookups. He looks like he’s going to climb into Hollander’s lap.
“Alright, assholes,” Roz calls, and he waits for the guys to shut up like he’s giving a speech before a big game. “This is Shane Hollander, my best friend and second best hockey player in the league.”
“Fuck you, Rozanov,” Hollander replies but he’s smiling a little and he barely tries to push Roz off him - Marly’s seen Hollander shove guys way harder on the ice during games. “Hayden’s my best friend.”
“Liar! Pike is only a sad man you know from work.”
“Wait, I thought Marly was your best friend,” Connors says.
“He’s only a sad man I know from work too.” Marly gives him the finger but Roz just grins and keeps talking. “Shane, these are the clever and beautiful WAGs. And you already know the rest of these assholes.”
Hollander is awkward as fuck as he smiles and waves like this is some kind of team publicity event. He’s polite and Canadian though - Marly bets Yuna Hollander is a strict mom about good manners - and he shakes Marly’s hand and gives him a present, wrapped all fancy with nice paper and ribbon and in a wooden box and shit.
“Happy birthday,” Hollander says. “Ilya helped pick it.”
“Yes, blame me in case Marly doesn’t like our present,” Roz says, with a huge fake sigh.
And, whoa, Hollander’s present is a really nice bottle of booze. “Thanks, man! This is amazing,” Marly says. “Appreciate it a lot.”
The rest of the presents from the guys are also mostly booze - nothing as nice as the bottle from Hollander and Roz - or dumb gag gifts. Fucking Hammer gives him Metros socks.
It’s not even weird having Hollander around. He doesn’t act like a big hockey superstar, is way more quiet than Marly expected from the biggest name in hockey. He’ll talk hockey - there’s a reason everyone says Hollander has the highest hockey IQ - but he just slips in and out of the conversation, the same way he does to the defence on the ice. Roz is still hovering over him like Hollander’s some rookie fresh up from Juniors - Marly’s pretty sure Roz hasn’t moved his arm from Hollander’s shoulders the whole fucking night - and the two of them spend half the time talking to each other. The bar’s getting busier and louder so their faces are up close.
Marly notices that Hollander’s nice to the WAGs too. Hollander talks to them as much as he talks to the guys, he doesn’t make gross comments, and he sure as fuck doesn’t stare down their tops. Like Hollander’s still awkward and shit but he’s not mean or rude about it. That’s better than a lot of the guys in the league, even guys who have way less to strut about than Hollander.
Hannah’s admiring Hollander’s bracelet. “Ooh, that’s really nice. Was that from the jewellery campaign you guys did together?”
No one really wears jewellery in hockey because it’s not safe - guys don’t even wear wedding rings on the ice and Roz’s cross and chain is the most that’s okay - and Hollander doesn’t seem like a jewellery kind of guy anyway. His bracelet’s pretty low-key, plain black metal links with just one in white metal and crusted in diamonds. Marly’s even less of a jewellery guy than he is a watch guy but the bracelet works for Hollander, it’s all cool and classy and stuff.
Hollander looks worried, like he thinks he’ll get in trouble for wearing jewellery even though they’re not on the ice. “Uh, no? It was a present. Um. I like it. A lot.”
Carmy butts in then. “Hey, Roz - did you ever end up buying a present for Jane? Maybe you can get her some jewellery. You even have a sponsorship for it now!” He turns to Hollander. “Roz has a girl, so he’s not banging every chick he meets in the clubs anymore.”
“Montreal Jane,” Connors cheers. “Hey, maybe you know her! You’re in Montreal too.”
“Montreal’s huge, idiot,” Sebbin says, elbowing Connors in the ribs. “It has millions of people in it - Hollander isn’t going to know one girl just because they live in the same city.”
Except Hollander fucking freezes and sends a weirdass look at Roz, and all the guys notice.
“Hollander, dude, have you met Montreal Jane?” Connors whispers, eyes wide.
“Uh . . ."
“Yes,” Roz says. “Shane and I are best friends, remember? Of course he has met Jane.” Roz has the smuggest fucking smile on his face.
“Oh my god, Jane is real!” Connors shouts. “She’s not just Roz’s imaginary Canadian girlfriend.”
“I told you Jane is real,” Roz says with a huff. “Beautiful and sexy and smart. Perfect.”
“How does Hollander know Jane’s sexy?” Hammer asks, looking confused. “Did you hook up with her too? Hang on, did you all have a threesome?”
Marly doesn’t believe it for a second, figures that it’s just a dumb horny thought from Hammer’s CTE brain. But Hollander’s face is so fucking red that Marly legit wonders if he’s going to stroke out and the Raiders are gonna get blamed for, like, murdering a rival team’s captain.
Roz wraps his arm even tighter around Hollander so their faces are pressed together. “We do not kiss and tell - we’re gentlemen. You wouldn’t understand, Hammer.”
Fuck. So Roz is having threesomes with Hollander and Jane.
It’s a great birthday - good food, good booze, good company. Marly doesn’t even have a hangover the next morning.
Marly definitely remembers that Roz and Jane and Hollander are . . . a couple but with three people instead of two? It’s fucking wild. But it makes sense too - Roz and Hollander are friends because they’re both amazing at hockey but also because they’re freaks in bed. Marly can see why they’re best buddies now. He’s not sure if that’s the right word though. Are they more like, uh, husbands-in-law?
Roz clearly has a type too - hot, athletic, dark hair, freckles, smart, sexy, serious. Shane and Jane even have names that sound alike! They both have family in Ottawa and dads that work doing business and money stuff. Hollander’s sponsored by Rolex and Jane bought Roz a Rolex. Roz wants to buy Jane jewellery as a present and Hollander has new jewellery someone gave him as a present.
Damn, Marly’s the smartest guy alive.
Wait.
. . . Wait.
Holy fucking shit.
Is Montreal Jane actually Shane Hollander?
The more Marly thinks about it, the more it makes sense. Roz has known Jane since he was a rookie - Roz met Hollander at the World Juniors and they’ve been talked about together ever since. Hm, together in other ways too, Marly guesses. Roz has always been worked up about Jane - and completely obsessed with Hollander, just in a different way. Except it turns out it’s the same way.
Marly shakes his head and laughs to himself. Trust fucking Roz to do something like this. Must be legit if Hollander’s in it too - that guy doesn’t fuck around.
Marly’s lucky he doesn’t get a speeding ticket on the way to Roz’s house but at least the traffic’s light because it’s so early. Maybe too early, since he’s knocking on Roz’s door for ages before it finally opens. Roz doesn’t even open it properly and blocks the way so Marly can’t even see inside. He looks like he’s just rolled out of bed.
“Marly? What-”
“I know who Jane is.”
Roz groans like Coach just announced bag skates then just stares at Marly with no expression on his face. Marly hopes Roz isn’t thinking of ways to murder him. He could put up a fight but Roz is strong and fast, especially when he’s pissed, and he has a big garden - there’s plenty of room to bury a body, even one as big as Marly.
“Don’t move,” Roz says, with a glare. He shuts the door in Marly’s face.
It takes so long that Marly wonders if Roz’s plan is to hope he gets bored and eventually leaves. But then Roz opens the door again and steps back to let him inside.
“Shoes off,” Roz orders.
Marly’s been to Roz’s house plenty of times but he’s never seen Hollander there. He’s never seen Hollander look like this. The guy usually looks like he just stepped out of an ad - either for some luxury designer brand or for amazing hockey. But Hollander’s standing at the kitchen bench with his hair sticking up all messy and Marly’s pretty sure he’s wearing Roz’s clothes. He also has a look on his face like he’s just been told he’s going into game seven of the Cup final but his whole team is suddenly out on IR so he’ll have to play with a peewee team instead. He only relaxes a bit when Roz goes to stand next to him, close enough so their shoulders are bumping but Hollander still looks tense as fuck.
“Hey, Hollander,” Marly says.
Hollander blinks. “Uh. Hey.”
“Didn’t expect to see you here. Sorry.”
“We were reading reports,” Hollander says, in a rush. “For the Foundation.”
Roz cuts in impatiently. “What do you want, Marly?”
Rude. But Marly figures it’s also kind of legit that Roz and Hollander are pissy. He didn’t know Hollander was staying over but he’s pretty sure he’s interrupting romantic couple time. And he knows Roz and Jane - uh, Hollander - don’t get to be together a lot because of the whole long distance thing.
“Nothing. Just wanted to say congrats on you being a couple. It’s cool.”
“What?” Hollander looks even more confused than Hammer usually does.
Roz is still watching as if he’s still ready to murder Marly if he needs to. “You’re not mad? Not worried I might look at your dick in the shower?”
“Pfft, no. Why would you look at my dick when you can look at Hollander’s?” Marly says, with a shrug.
Roz scowls immediately. “Stop thinking about Shane’s dick.”
“I’m not! I’m saying you think about Hollander’s dick.”
“Can we stop talking about my dick?” Hollander asks, with his eyes squeezed shut.
“Sorry, dude,” Marly says. He wouldn’t talk about Hannah’s amazing tits to her and Sebbin, so he shouldn’t talk about Hollander’s dick either.
Marly notices that Hollander and Roz are holding hands now.
“Shane and me, we’re together. Serious relationship, not just fucking for fun,” Roz says.
“Makes sense.” Roz spent the whole off-season with Hollander. He met the parents - and it looks like Hollander’s parents really like Roz since they’re helping him with investments and sponsorships and treating him like he’s their kid too. He’s doing serious, important shit with Hollander with their charity and everything. Yeah, Marly can tell it’s serious.
“But people cannot know,” Roz says, deadly serious.
“That sucks,” Marly says.
“Yeah.” Roz looks tired. He and Hollander aren’t holding hands anymore because their arms are around instead. They’re leaning against each other too.
“Please don’t tell anyone,” Hollander says quietly.
“Of course, man - lips sealed.” Marly doesn’t know anything about being gay but he figures it’s hard enough for normal gay people and even harder for pro hockey players. Some of the guys in the room would be assholes about showering with Roz if they know he’s gay - fucking Hammer stinks enough already, he needs to shower more, not less. The league would be weird about it, the same way they are about Pride Night, like it’s great if gay people give them money but only as long as they’re not too gay about it. Marly’s pretty sure he heard Russia doesn’t love gayness too. And hockey players fucking love to gossip so being out to one guy probably means the secret spreads across the whole fucking league.
Hollander nods, takes Marly at his word. “Thank you.” He lets out a deep breath. “Do you want breakfast? Ilya’s making eggs.”
“Hell yeah.”
Marly never turns down a good meal and Roz’s cooking has been better since the off-season. He makes scrambled eggs for himself and Marly, egg white omelette with spinach, mushroom, and tomatoes for Hollander. Roz and Hollander each off each other’s plates.
“How did you figure it out?” Hollander asks.
“Yes, Marly tell us - especially since you’ve had so many concussions,” Roz says, with a grin.
“Fuck you,” Marly says comfortably, not bothered at all. “I don’t know. Roz just looked really happy and shit when he came back from the off-season.”
Hollander smiles a little at that. “Yeah?”
“God, yeah,” Marly agrees enthusiastically. “Not just after summer - doing charity stuff and ads with you too.” Hollander’s smile grows even wider. “You looked pretty happy hanging out with Roz tonight.”
“So pretty, so happy,” Roz coos at Hollander and now he’s wearing his soft, goofy Jane smile. Well, Shane smile.
Hollander snorts a short laugh. “I was freaking out. Not just about- us. The Metros and Raiders aren’t exactly friendly.”
“I wouldn’t want to drink with that fucker, Comeau,” Marly admits. “No one has a problem with you off the ice though. And you’re Roz’s girl. Uh, boy. Guy? Man?”
“Shut up, Marly,” Roz laughs. “You make Hollander sound like a crowd of people.”
Hollander frowns. “If Marleau can figure it out, so can the rest of the Raiders.”
“Nah, the guys are fucking dumb,” Marly says. “Well, maybe not St Vic but he can keep his mouth shut. Everyone else just thinks it’s cool you’re both in a threesome with Jane.”
“I can’t believe your team thought that was the best explanation for Ilya and me,” Hollander groans.
“They’re dumb,” Marly repeats. “It might be good though. You could say Jane ditched you both but you decided to keep fucking each other because you liked it so much.”
Hollander chokes on his sip of water and Marly worries that, shit, Roz really will kill him for accidentally killing his boyfriend.
“Fuck, that’s even worse,” Hollander croaks, his face all red.
“No, is good plan,” Roz says, grinning. “It can be our backup.”
“The fuck it is,” Hollander shoots back. But he and Roz both seem less freaked out as they finish breakfast.
Marly cleans his plate because he really loves scrambled eggs, then gets up to leave.
“You’re going?” Hollander asks, surprised.
“Yeah, man - I don’t cockblock my bros.”
“We were reading reports,” Hollander insists, blushing again.
“Very sexy reports,” Roz teases.
They both walk Marly to the door - Hollander’s good Canadian manners are rubbing off on Roz.
“Thank you,” Hollander says. Marly’s pretty sure he isn’t talking about Marly leaving to give them alone time.
“No worries - have fun with those sexy reports.”
“Fuck you,” Hollander laughs.
Roz and Hollander are still standing there, side by side in the doorway as Marly drives off. Hollander waves, Roz flips Marly the finger - his other arm is hooked around Hollander’s shoulders, just like last night at the bar. They look like they belong together, a real couple. They look like they’re happy, and Marly’s glad.
