Chapter Text
It was after the last game of the season. The Centaurs had crushed their opposing team and had finished at the top. Spirits were high, and everyone were in a celebratory mood. The whole team had gone out for drinks at a club near their hotel, and Hayden was drunk.
He didn’t plan on getting drunk this quickly, but he wasn’t complaining. It was a stressful season and he was only too happy to let go tonight. Looking around, he spotted his friend and teammate Shane Hollander dancing with his boyfriend and team captain Ilya Rozanov.
Both of them were excellent players, quite possibly the best there were, and the reason for their team’s success. But while Shane was like a neurotic kitten off the ice, Rozanov was an asshole with a big mouth both on and off. He was very popular and charming, but was never that way with Hayden, rage-baiting him on purpose all the time (at least only off the ice, thank god for small mercies). Also, Hayden would rather die that admit this, but Ilya also intimidated him sometimes.
Now watching them dance together, Hayden was suddenly emotional. He had a long-running on-and-off crush on Shane. Shane, who had a childish, pure soul, while also being drop dead gorgeous. Shane, who was cutely endearing in his ways and Hayden’s best friend. But Hayden had been too deep in denial to see his feelings for what they were, and then Shane and Rozanov had come out and he realized he never had a chance in the first place.
And at the same time, whether he wanted to admit or not, he could see that Shane and Ilya were a good couple, and just what the other needed. He (and everyone else) could see the love and devotion towards each other in their eyes. He felt happy for his friend, but also sad for the way things were.
Also, Rozanov was a 10. That motherfucker was sexy as fuck and he knew it. Hayden’s drunken mind felt he wouldn’t even mind being the one in Shane’s place. He was jealous of Rozanov, jealous of Shane also maybe. He didn’t know what to feel, and all of a sudden it was all too much.
He saw Rozanov heading to the bar for drinks, and put his own down and headed towards Shane.
No harm in shooting his shot, right? Anyway, it’s not like he was in love or something. He just wanted to let Shane know and offload a bit onto him. He was just so out of it that his brain thought this was a good idea.
“Shaneeee, my man!! Wassup??”
Shane turned around with a smile and his trusted ginger ale in his hands. “Hey Hayden”.
“Ok so look.. I know you are with Rozanov right, and I would never come in between that.. but.. but.. you should know.. I had this massive crush on you for ages..” Hayden giggled a bit. “I actually didn’t realize it for a looooong while but yeah.. So please, PLEASE give me one chance!! Your precious boyfriend can also be there.”
Shane was looking concernedly at him. “Hayden, are you alright? How much did you have to drink?” Was he alright? He had no idea. But he was on a roll now and had to get it out.
Confusion was not the expression Hayden wanted from Shane. Ugh, how to be more clear??
And what was he asking for? He had a vague idea.. and before his brain to mouth filter worked--
“I WANT TO FUCK YOU SHANE HOLLANDER!”
Shane’s jaw slackened and he stared at him flabbergasted. It was looking so funny that Hayden started giggling again.
Looking over Shane’s shoulder, Hayden realized he had been quite loud, as he saw Rozanov marching over to them with murder in his eyes. His laughter stopped abruptly as Rozanov’s expression sent a full-body jolt through him.
Oh shit. He came to his senses enough to realize he was quite literally scared for his life.
Hayden was ashamed to say he turned tail and ran out of the club. He got back to the hotel, all the while kicking himself. He was concerned him losing control and word vomiting his feelings had irreparably ruined his friendship with Shane. However, he was too drunk to do anything about it, and quickly fell asleep once back in his hotel room.
The next day morning, there was a text message from a new chat sitting at the top of his inbox.
Rozanov:
Tonight 7PM. Our house.