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Shane had left his dinner with Rose feeling...more confident. He was embarrassed sure. But to have someone else say it. To say that they knew about him. That it wasn't a problem, and still accept him. To still want to be friends, he would forever be grateful to Rose Landry. Even if he had wanted to melt into a puddle when she was prying the information out of him.
That night he went home and did what he hadn't allowed himself to do since Boston, he logged onto his burner account on instagram and searched #IlyaRozanov. It had become a habit since then. Each night after he got home he would search the hashtag and see what his rival was up to. He couldn't bring himself to text Lily. He knew he had screwed things up. MOre than a text would be able to fix.
Maybe he could have recovered from that disastrous night in Boston, but the club with Rose. He knew that he wouldn't be forgiven for that easily. He saw it in the way Ilya had stared at him while he dance with that girl. Daring Shane to do anything to stop him.
The whole thing had been a taunt and Shane had run away. He was too afraid to let something good happen to him. Even when he had known it was wrong with Rose, he just hadn't admitted that to himself yet.
So no, he couldn't just text him. He needed to see him and sort this out in person.
All-Star weekend was coming up. It was East vs West, meaning they would finally be playing on the same team. He would make it better before the game, and then he would finally feel what it would be like to play with Ilya instead of against him.
And until then, he would sit here and scroll social media, looking for glimpses into his live to prove that he would still be waiting.
In hindsight, Ilya didn't know what he expected. He had been so careful at the start. He knew that nothing could come of this thing with Shane. He spent all of his time worrying about letting anything about his relationship with Shane get out, that he let himself forget it wasn't a relationship. Shane had made sure to remind him, practically running out of his house after Ilya had been so stupid and let his first name slip from his lips in a moment of vulnerability. He had planned it all out so well, and had ruined it. And then Shane went off to prove that Ilya meant nothing to him, he fell into Rose Landry's arms. Every headline and paparazzi shot felt like a specific fuck you to Ilya. He didn't want Ilya, he wanted a girl he could walk hand and hand with.
Well that was fine with Ilya. Though the way Shane had looked at him in the club that night after they played in Montreal. They way he stared at Ilya dancing with that girl. Ilya had tried to make him jealous, but Shane's stone cold face showed no emotion. It was like he was calling Ilya out for what he was doing. He knew that the girl in Ilyas arms meant nothing to him. And then he went back to dancing with Rose fucking Landry.
He hadn't wanted to, but he couldn't help watch them, see Shane's hands, so awkward when they first walked it, start to explore Rose's body, ghosting up her sides and resting on her ass. The gentle kisses Ilya knew so well. And he was doing it in public. Something they could never have.
So when Cliff told him his new girl was from San Francisco and wanted to show him and the guys around the day after their game with the Sharks, before heading off to the All-Star game in Tampa, Ilya had gone along with it. He never had trouble in San Francisco. It was not a big hockey town, and the people were very open. He might even be able to find a man to hookup with, one with dark hair, and freckles if he was lucky. It was a very gay place. If he wanted to find a look-alike, it was the place to do it.
Their day started with mimosas, followed by a breakfast at some bakery with a line around the block. Cliff's girl--Carla? Casey? had the entire day planned ushering them from spot to spot all over the city, she had a car driving them around, thank god. The hills were unrelenting.
He hadn't spent much time in San Francisco. When they played the sharks he typically stayed in San Jose, never making it up to the city. Just once he had come here with Sveta in the post-season before they both went back to Russia. They had enjoyed the freedom of this place, far more open then the rest of the "free-world" as they called it. Even if the parties here did end absurdly early.
They were well and truly drunk when Camila Ushered the group of them up the stairs to a new bar where she showed the bouncer something on her phone and they were lead to a table next to a stage. Ilya happily went to the bar dominating the center of the room and ordered a round for the bar. And when the bartendered flirted with him, what was he to do but flirt back? It was San Francisco afterall, and he was Ilya Rozanov.
"Here pick one," the bartended said, handing him a shot list. He was handsome, a heavily tattooed hispanic man with bulging muscles.
"Is okay, not necessary," he said before glancing down and letting out a laugh. The shot list was full of sexual innuendo. His English had always been best in this department and he appreciated it as he scanned the list.
"I'll take 'Deep Throat' then," Ilya winked at the bartender.
He downed it while keeping eye contact with the bartender. But he was with his team, he may have a reputation of flirting with anything that moved, but he knew his teammates didn't actually believe he was bisexual. It was just how they razzed him. So he turned around and carried the tray of drinks for his friends back with him.
It wasn't until Cliff and-- Caitlin? Handed a few hundreds to a man with a grocery basket full of singles did he start to suspect something was going on. Had Cliff brought them to a strip club? It was the middle of the day. The sun streamed in from the window across from him.
His mind suddenly flashed with the darkest option. He had known some of his teammates girlfriends who wanted to seem cool and fit in so they would go to strip clubs with the team. Ilya did not appreciate this being sprung on him. He didn't want to go to a strip club. He wanted to find someone he could touch, someone he could fuck until his mind was no longer stuck on dark brown eyes with constellations of freckles beneath them.
Ilya looked out the window, over a balcony crowded with people. Outside he counted nearly a dozen pride flags. Larger than he had ever seen, almost as large as the American Flags car dealerships flew. Then his eyes flicked over to the posters on the wall, that read "Lips and Lashes Drag Brunch" with the image of a blonde Drag Queen staring down the camera.
Not a strip club then.
He turned back to his teammates and saw them in various states of nerves. Cliff and Cassidy were grinning and laughing at them all. Ilya could do that. It was no big deal. He was a chill man, comfortable with anything. The resident slut. Cliff was a straight as they came and he was enjoying being here. Better to make fun of the others. It would be fun. There was nothing to it.
Chelsea handed out piles of cash to all of them.
"Each time they come around you need to give them cash. They're entertainers. They'll only mess with you if you make it obvious you're uncomfortable." Cassidy said.
"Yeah relax, boys, it'll be fun." Cliff chimed in.
There were a few grumbles from Carmichael, but St Simone actually seemed excited. Cliff was an idiot springing this on them, but looking at the players he brought, Ilya knew that these would be the least homophobic players on the team. They all played hard, but this was a safe group at least. There were some on the team he wouldn't want anywhere near a gay bar, let alone a drag queen. The bouncer was a tough looking woman, but had she ever had to fight a 6 foot tall hockey player? He doubted it. And he didn't need more trouble with coach for fighting one of his own teammates off the ice.
Ilya threw back a drink as the queen from the poster entered the room with a microphone. She was so tall she nearly hit the ceiling. Her hair filled out like a woman from the 80s, the wig was huge, with soft curls, and her body...the leotard clung to her waist and the obviously padded hips and boobs. Her legs stretched out long and thin, with serious heels at the end. She walked like she owned the place, and she was the host, so maybe she did. Ilya had seen many women teeter in heels shorter than that.
She was saying something. The rest of the room cheered and belatedly Ilya clapped along.
He glanced at Cliff and shot him a smile. Proving he was fine, he was the same chill Russian man he'd always been. Everything was a joke to him. Coming to a drag show was not a big deal. It was fun, it was funny. Men dressed as women? Why not. Nothing phased him. It was a show, he would be entertained.
The music started and the queen took off. She swayed her hips sassily to the music and spun around. Lip syncing the entire time. Cliff and Chloe wagged their dollars out in front of her and she took them from their hands. Ilya grabbed a dollar from his pile and held it out, but when she saw him she smirked and turned around, bending over for him to tuck it into her leotard. He let out a loud wolf whistle and tucked in his dollar with a laugh. The silicone of her hips felt strange under his fingers, but he had to admit, it was fun, especially when he turned to see her wiggling her butt at Carmichael next to him, whose face was beet red as he tucked the dollar into her leotard trying to touch her the least amount possible.
As she moved on Ilya shook the mans shoulders, "poor Carmichael is worried about touching a man's ass, even with silicone pad in the way. We will need to add more layers to the uniform or you will be worried about fighting on the ice now too?" Ilya laughed, Cliff and even St. Simone joining in.
"Here take another drink, it will help," Ilya said pouring the bottle of prosecco he bought into Carmichaels cup.
Ilya watched as the Queen danced around the room. He saw her target the most uncomfortable looking men and bring them to her chest, rubbing her boobs on their faces. Courtney was great, he would need to tell Cliff that he liked her. This had been a great idea.
The next performer immediately caught his attention. She had dark hair and painted on freckles. She was dressed as a cheerleader and when she took Ilya's first dollar she mimed a blowjob moving her hand as if it was around a dick and pushed her tongue to the side of her mouth to imitate a cock. He winked back at her and handed her another dollar. Moving on from him St Simone finally got the special treatment and got her boobs in his face.
He and Cliff whistled loudly as Caty cheered.
Ilya took a long drink from his prosecco and let the bubbles fill his head. He didn't expect to like this so much. Sure compared to Shane he was far more in touch with his sexuality, but knowing you're queer in Russia was different than being able to be out and proud in America. He had never been able to come out to things like this. He had been to gay bars before, but only with Svetlana who would cover for him when needed. Let him experience the culture with a beautiful woman on his arm to set him apart from the other men he could admire.
Ilya kept his eyes trained on the Queen across the bar, dancing for the people on the other side. There was something in the way she moved. She danced her way back to their side of the bar and slid into the splits, her pom-poms shaking to the vulgar song in the background. Then she locked eyes with Ilya and started crawling towards him.
Ilya couldn't help the smirk on his face as she got on her knees in front of him and mimed blowing him, hands on either thigh. He reached back and grabbed a handful of bills from his pile and tucked them into the top of her shirt. He heard his boys cheering from behind him and shot a wolfish glace their way. This was who he was. Ilya Rozanov, Cassanova to both men and women alike. He was the playboy. They didn't need to know he enjoyed both.
The next performer was an actual woman, Ilya was slightly disappointed when the host announced her, but then when the burlesque dancer came out, he took back everything he thought. She was gorgeous. And gave him an excuse to fawn over her in front of his team mates in case they needed to be reminded he was into women.
In the middle of the show the host came out and asked if anyone was celebrating anything. Cliff and Camila immediately started cheering and pointing at Ilya.
"Well hello there," The host drawled as she leaned on their table between Ilya and Cliff. "What are we celebrating over here?" She asked Cliff but trained her eyes on Ilya.
"He's headed to the NHL All-Stars weekend to crush the western conference team." Cliff shouted. Ilya didn't expect any jeers, the audience didn't seem very hockey oriented, but one rang out.
"Oh, and hockey player?" The host said. She squeezed Ilya's arm as she fanned her face with the microphone. "Well we definitely need you up here then. Come on, get on stage for me, darling." She pulled him up from his seat and Ilya sauntered over to the small stage next to their table. The host went around the rest of the bar pulling people to the stage for birthdays, anniversaries, and even one divorce. It was crowded by the time she returned and explained the rules.
"We are going to have a twerk off now, everyone give their all! I'll be judging who does it best," the host said. Ilya laughed. Of course it would be a twerk off.
He gave his team mates his sultriest look as he started shaking his ass to the beat of the song the DJ started playing. They whooped and cheered for him. Ilya had never really tried to twerk before, but he had been clubbing since he was too young by American standards, he knew how to move his body.
The woman next to him celebrating her divorce started fake slapping his ass, trading off with a gay man next to her. Ilya leaned into it. Letting them take turns. Soon the music stopped and the host called for everyone to make some noise.
"Mr. Hockey, you really know how to move," she said to Ilya.
"Must know your body well to play good hockey," Ilya winked at her. "and I am best hockey player."
"Wow, he's humble too," she joked to the crowd. "I wasn't the only one enjoying that. It looks like you made two new fans today."
Ilya grinned back at his dance partners. "Lifelong Boston Bears fans now, yes? We have shared important moment here."
The gay man nodded his head vigorously. Blowing Ilya a kiss.
"Now, you're all up here to celebrate, you indulged me, so now for your reward! Shots!"
At the bar the bartenders were pouring shots in a line, topping them off with whipped cream.
"Since this is a show of indulgence," The host drawled, "we simply had to indulge in some blow job shots for you all. You know what that means, no hands." She looked crossly at all the people on stage before beckoning them over to pick a shot glass.
Ilya stood between his two partners and leaned over his glass. He had never taken a blow job shot before, but how hard could it be? He took a quick lick of the whipped cream on top before wrapping his lips around the glass and tilting his head back swallowing everything at once.
The cheers from his table were uproarious. And as he turned he saw Cliff recording him so he stepped in front of the camera and over exaggeratedly licked his lips, before sticking his tongue out to show it was all gone. Then laughed he fell back into his seat.
This had been a great idea. He was well and truly drunk now. And the second half of the show passed quickly. Each time the freckled queen came out to perform she messed with him. More than the others. More than anyone else in the club. And when Ilya gave her his final dollar, she slipped something into his hand. He tucked the note into his pocket before his team could see anything. Hoping beyond hope that it was her number. Those freckles, her long hair. Even the fake boobs, he liked the idea of it.
The show wrapped up and Ilya threw his hands around Cliff and Cassie.
"Great idea. Very fun show. Never seen drag show before," Ilya slurred. Even Carmichael and St Simone seemed excited. They all took pictures with the Drag Queens afterwards. Cliff making them all pose bent over so that the queens could pretend to spank them.
As they wandered to the next bar, Ilya slipped the note out of his pocket and confirmed that yes, it was a phone number and smiled and slipped it back into his pants. Maybe letter he would text it. He was too drunk to think about what a bad idea it was, not when he remembered her freckles and the way she looked crawling over to him.
Shane saw the videos embarrassingly early. In the week before All-Star Weekend he had more free time than normal, and spent far too much of it on his phone. So when he checked his hashtags and saw a video with less than a hundred views, he knew it must be recent. It was early evening for him, meaning it was the afternoon for Ilya in San Francisco. The video was blurry, but he clearly saw Ilya across the bar tucking dollar bills into the leotard of a drag performer.
He looked drunk, but not wasted. Just enough that even in the blurry video Shane could see the delight in his eyes as he engaged with the performer.
The comments exploded as he watched.
@Rozbackhand: I knew Roz was an ally. No one who has that much sex can be repressed
@kaity_bear: What are the Boston Bears doing at a drag show in SF? Did I miss the moment when hockey stopped being homophobic?
Shane swiped back up to the video. Ilya seemed completely in his element. As did Marlow sitting next to him cheering Ilya on.
Shane looked at the background to try and see who else from the team was there. He thought he saw Carmichael there too, but the video only showed him for a moment.
What were the Boston Bears doing at a drag show of all places?
A sudden surge of jealousy filled Shane. Here he was, trying to force a relationship with a woman to the point where she had to tell him that he was gay. And meanwhile Ilya was out brazenly at a gay bar. He was such a womanizer no one would even blink an eye at him being there. He just seemed like a straight ally who could goof around.
Shane knew he would never be able to do that. If he was ever seen at a gay bar he knew rumors would fly immediately. All he had was a few weeks long relationship with Rose to point to as proof of his public sexual past.
Why was this so hard?
Shane scrolled to the next post, where he saw another video from a much closer angle. In this the drag Queen crawled over to Ilya on her knees giving him bedroom eyes. Then as she got to where he sat she pretended to give him head. Shane almost threw his phone across the room, but he suppressed the urge and kept watching.
Ilya of course played it off perfectly. Like he knew he was a sex god, so of course everyone would want to blow him. The rest of his teammates--it was Carmichael, and St Simone was there too-- all cheered on laughing.
Shane watched it on repeat. Mesmerized. He switched his focus between the Drag Queen and Ilya. Clearly no one else seemed to think Ilya was serious. But Shane knew better. He saw the genuine interest in Ilya's face as she crawled towards him.
The next video was worse. He saw it was posted by Cliff Marlow's official account. It started with a shot of Ilya from behind. He was bent over a bar and wrapped his lips around shot glass with whipped cream on top. As he set down the glass and noticed Cliff filming him he licked his lips and opened his mouth, his tongue sticking out to show that he took the whole thing. Shane groaned. He'd seen Ilya do that before. When he had told him he didn't need to swallow after a blowjob. Ilya had just sat there with and open mouth showing him that he'd swallowed it all. Shane couldn't help the flush that came to his face.
Ilya was at a drag show, drinking and interacting with the Drag Queens like it was the most normal thing in the world.
He could see it. Ilya liked the danger of it all. He liked that their hookups were risky. Shane was fairly certain after that last time in Boston Ilya also wanted more than that from him. No-- he knew it. He wouldn't run away anymore. But Shane knew, at least in the beginning some of the fun for him had been the risk. Knowing they could get caught. Making bedroom eyes at a drag queen in front of his teammates? Of course Ilya would do that.
Maybe it would be good for him too. He liked both men and women--
This time Shane did throw his phone across the room. He couldn't watch that again. He knew that Ilya liked to have random sex. He always had hookups.
He wasn't even having sex with Shane right now, so of course he was hooking up with other people right now. Shane couldn't hold it against him. He just didn't need to picture it.
Try as he might the rest of the night Shane couldn't help but let his mind wander to Ilya and that Drag Queen. She was so dressed up. Compared to Shane's typical outfits of sweatpants and t-shirts. Ilya did always call him boring. Maybe he needed to step up his game.
Rose had talked about her stylist for events. Maybe he could reach out to her and see if she could recommend someone. He knew some of the other guys did it for pre and post game.
He was going to show up to this All-star weekend and Ilya wouldn't know what hit him.