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The music in the club was so loud the walls and floors were vibrating. It was filled with sweaty bodies grinding on each other, the bar had multiple glasses lined up with shots that a group were taking and messily leaving trails of sticky alcohol along the bar's top. It was a very busy night, more packed than it usually was due to the fact that the Boston Raiders had just won a game tonight and it was like the whole town was out celebrating without a care that their hometown was beaten.
The whole Boston team had come out to celebrate and were scattered all over the club either dancing together or surrounded by ladies.
Ilya Rozanov had just pulled himself away from the dance floor, drunkenly walking back to the bar to get another drink. He had no idea what number shot he was. All he knew when he walked into the club today was that he wanted to get wasted and forget all of the loud noise in his head. All of the voices screaming at him for the mistakes he had made on and off of the ice. It was loud. The dance floor was not doing it for him anymore all the bodies felt too much and the music made him want to split his head open even more, if he had alcohol in his hotel room he would have preferred to get drunk there instead of coming here but that wasn't allowed so he came out with his teammates instead.
Boston had won their game today against Florida and while every other teammate was happy and shouting from the rooftops. They were inching closer to the playoffs they had high chances of winning another cup. Ilya did not care. Which wasn't a new emotion he had towards hockey recently, but they had played a good game beating Florida by 5 points not letting them get a single goal in while in their city. He should be happy. He should be ecstatic. He should be grinding on one of the girls who would love to go home with the captain of the Boston Raiders. But really, he couldn't find it in himself to care. Luckily the other guys were too wasted to notice how lackluster their captain's enthusiasm was today or how badly he was drinking tonight which Ilya was so grateful for he didn't have it in him to pretend anymore. He had barely managed to make it through media halfassed answering questions and he knew that coach was not happy he would probably have a chat about it tomorrow, but Ilya did not care he was really reaching his limit and he needed a break from everything.
Ilya wanted to become invisible.
He had moments like this where he felt like disappearing would make his life and everybody around him life so much easier, but disappearing is not an easy thing to do when you're the captain of a famous hockey team and your team has high chances of winning another Stanley Cup. He can't afford to disappear he has to be present for his team and the fans. It is so exhausting.
Ilya wanted to get black out drunk and forget about what happened that one day he invited Hollander to his place. He wanted to forget how foolish he felt making Hollander a tuna melt and watching a game on the coach together. He wanted to forget how embarrassing he felt after Hollander left him on that coach. How Hollander ran away saying “I can’t”. He wanted to forget the hollow feeling in his chest that hasn’t left him since Hollander looked at him with that scared look in his eye and how that feeling only intensified after seeing the news of Hollander’s girlfriend.
Ilya knew heart break. The first time his heart had broken was when he had found his mother dead—the only person in the world that really knew him and understood him gone. But the type of heartbreak he is experiencing since Hollander left him felt like something new, he truly wanted the Earth to open up beneath his feet and to swallow him whole so he was not a livable person on this Earth anymore. He didn’t know how he would continue on with this type of pain everyday. There were some days when he was driving off he just wanted to run straight into a tree to end the pain that was plaguing him. Sometimes when Ilya couldn’t sleep he would pray to the necklace that rested around his neck for him to wake up one day and not know who Shane Hollander was. He would wish to never have started this thing with Hollander so he would not have to experience the heartbreak of Hollander leaving him and choosing Rose Laundry.
All he could hear in his head when he thought back that cursed day was his fathers voice in his head calling him a foolish boy.
Ilya was so foolish. Of course Hollander didn’t want to stay with him. Ilya and Shane were so different, they could never be together the way Ilya wanted. Shane probably wanted somebody softer and easier to be around. Ilya had always been too loud; he could still remember the glares and pinches his father would give him to make him act right in church. Hollander didn't want that he wanted somebody like him, a girl that was like him and Rose Landry was probably that- not loud and annoying and especially not lazy like Ilya.
What they were doing was dangerous for the both of them maybe in the end it truly was not worth it.
Still, sometimes Ilya would daydream in his bed late at night and think about things he could change or take back that wouldn't have scared Hollander off and make him see that Ilya was unworthy. Ilya would hide his ugly flaws so he could keep Hollander around no matter how selfish that sounded because Ilya was a selfish boy, his father always told him so. He was selfish for always wanting his mother's attention, he was selfish for choosing the NHL over the KHL, he was selfish for never returning home when his father yelled at him too. Ilya was selfish.
Ilya sighed as he slumped into the bar stool catching the eye of the bartender. The man looked a little starstruck and honestly if Ilya cared enough he would sweet talk him enough that he’d have the man in his bed. It has been a while since he has slept with a man that wasn’t Hollander, maybe a few years. Ilya held up two fingers waving them and pointing at a shot glass that somebody across the bar was taking to indicate what he wanted, he didn’t care what that person was drinking, shitty American alcohol was still alcohol and if he had to drink twenty of them to get even more buzzed he would.
___________
Cliff Marleau spotted a figure residing on the barstool and quickly figured out that it was Rozanov. Normally he would have looked away and went back to working his way into sleeping with the women he was dancing with but something this time told him to go check on him. “Excuse me ladies,"he said, throwing them a quick flirty smirk their way before squeezing through the sweaty crowd of drunk bodies and walked over to Ilya. “Rozanov!”he cheered loudly, clapping his captain on his back.
Ilya didn't react.
Marlow’s eyebrows furrowed, this was unusual. Normally Ilya was always matching his high energy back especially after a few drinks. They were typically the ones that made a party rowdier. He moved closer, coming to lean against the bar looking at Ilya.
Ilya was staring into space clearly not paying attention to anything going on around him. He looked drunk. His cheeks were red and his eyes were dazed. He kind of looked out of his mind. “Hey man”Cliff said which finally got Ilya's attention but he didn't look any better. He probably had no idea where they even were. The only response he got out of Ilya was a weak “Mmmm” before he took a weak sip from the beer bottle in his hand.
Something did not seem right to Cliff so he decided to cut their night short and get Ilya back to the hotel.
“Hey man, come on lets get you back to the hotel”Cliff said he wanted to get Ilya somewhere safe and where he wouldn't make any decisions he would regret in the morning, Cliff always felt like he was the player on the team Ilya was closest too even if he did keep himself closed off. He could count on his fingers the amount of non hockey related things he knew about Ilya.
“Bed?”Ilya mumbled, letting Cliff manhandle him out of the chair. Cliff kept a grip on his arm as he told the bartender to put Ilya's orders on his tab before he led him and Ilya out of the back of the club. He didn't want to risk any cameras spotting the two of them and them ending up on some gossip magazine. Rozanov did not look okay. Cliff has seen Ilya drunk as shit before when they games and he needed something to distract him from the sting of losing but he has never seen him like this. He had a vacant look on his face like he wasn’t here. He was lost in his mind about something and it was bad if a few drinks couldn’t bring him out of it.
Cliff had never known something that could bring the Ilya Rozanov down this much.
Luckily Cliff had driven his car to the club so he didn’t have to worry about waiting for an Uber. It was freezing outside and Cliff was not a fan of the cold. Ilya could barely keep himself up leaning on Cliff mostly for support as he followed him out of the club and into the parking lot where Cliff had parked his car.
Somehow Cliff managed to get him into the passenger seat and buckled him up, Ilya let his head fall back against the head rest, his eyes already falling shut. Cliff had barely drunk anything himself so driving back to the hotel the Raiders was not going to be an issue. He was sure if they got stopped by the police he could charm his way out of getting a DUI anyway, he had done it before.
There were barely any cars on the road this late at night so it took them less than 10 minutes to get to the hotel. Ilya was quiet the whole ride there only shifting a few times to get more comfortable in the seat, he didn’t throw up so it was a win in Cliff’s book.
After figuring his way around the parking garage Cliff managed to get the car in a reasonable parking space. He glanced over at his friend. He wished Ilya was more open and that he would tell Cliff what had been bothering him. Cliff had noticed that Ilya was being more quiet and just off in general lately. Normally when he came back from his summers in Russia Ilya got weird but it was nothing like how Ilya has been acting these last few weeks. Cliff hadn’t even seen him glued to his phone like he normally is nor has he seen the goofy smile on his face which Cliff called his ‘Jane smile’.
Cliff got Ilya out of the car wrapping his arms around the others waist, Ilya did not protest at all which again was how Cliff knew something was wrong. Ilya always had something to say, always had a comment to make. It was not like him to be quiet, especially not this quiet.
“We’re almost there buddy”Cliff said as they stepped into the elevator to take them to the lobby. Ilya made a small noise of acknowledgement as Cliff basically carried him all the way there. Cliff pushed in the code with swift
The receptionist didn’t blink as they—Cliff was basically carrying Ilya— walked to the elevators to get to their room floor. Ilya mumbled something under his breath as Cliff pressed the number for their floor in the elevator. Cliff noticed a shift in his demeanor, but before he could comment the elevator had opened and they were on their floor.
“I’m a’right”Ilya mumbled his words were slurring and his accent was coming out heavier with how drunk he was. Ilya removed himself from Cliff and stumbled in the direction of their room he shoved his hand in his back pocket pulling out the room key twirling it in his fingers as he walked. Cliff quickly followed behind him wanting to make sure he didn’t trip over his own two feet with how drunk Ilya was. He didn’t want Ilya to injure himself because they could not win the cup this season with him dead on the floor or out because of an injury. Ilya struggled to get the keycard in the slot to open the door, so Cliff took it from him and did it properly, it clicked green and the door unlocked. Cliff pushed it open and Ilya stumbled into the room kicking off his shoes not caring where they landed. Cliff closed the door behind them making sure to close and lock the door behind them.
Cliff frowned as he watched Ilya move around the room. He didn't even bother to change out of his jeans when he face planted on it, feet dangling off the edge of the bed.
“Roz.. come on. Change clothes at least you're going to be uncomfortable when you sleep”he said sitting down at the edge of the bed.
Ilya whined and didn’t move. Cliff sighed. They had seen each other naked plenty of times, Cliff was not above changing Ilya’s clothes himself.
Ilya still didn't move so Cliff turned towards Ilya and shuffled his jeans off of him dropping them down on the floor below them. Ilya snorted below him as he let Cliff maneuver him around. “Trying to fuck me Marleau?”he joked, he didn't sound as drunk as he had been earlier which was good.
Cliff rolled his eyes, “You wish.” Ilya did have a great ass, but Cliff was very heterosexual and very secure in his sexuality so a joke like that did not rattle like he knew it would some of the others in the locker room. He also knew some of them wouldn’t be comfortable doing what he was doing with Ilya right now, they always got a bit squeamish in the showers even after all these years.
"Cmon Roz,"Cliff said as he pulled him into a sit up so he could get his shirt off as well, he also tossed that on the floor with his jeans and let the other crawl under the blankets.
Ilya sighed. “I miss my ‘Hane”he mumbled once he was. His accent was the thickest Cliff had ever heard it
“Ah. Roz did your Jane break up with you? You’ve been so down lately?”Cliff said, deciding that now was the best time to ask since he knew that in the morning Ilya would be back to his closed off self.
Ilya went quiet at that. Cliff also got himself out of the clothes he wore to the bar throwing on a pair of sweatpants out of his suitcase that was laying half open near the bathroom door. He looked back up when he got no reply, freezing when he saw how teary-eyed Ilya had gotten.
Cliff had never seen Ilya cry full on tears. When they won their first cup he did notice that he got emotional while carrying the cup, but Ilya was not like the other players on the team who were boohoo crying in the locker room after they won the cup. This was new and it made him unsteady; he did not know to handle an upset Rozanov—who was this girl that had such a grip on theeee Ilya Rozanov to turn him into a crybaby.
“My Jane.. My sweet Jane”Ilya mumbled tears rolling down his cheeks, “My Jane hates me”he said with a weak laugh slapping a hand to his face to harshly wipe away his cheeks.
Cliff did not know what to say. Did he expect his captain to start crying while talking about his Montreal hook up? No.
“Never good enough. Nobody ever stays. Shane fucking hates, he left me and got a fucking girlfriend. Was it really that different for him than it was for me. It hurts so much every time I see them together I just want to throw myself out of a window. If I did, would it even affect him? Would he come to my funeral if I died or would he just stay with a picture perfect girlfriend and move on from me? I’m so weak.. My mother is probably rolling in her grave right now. I hate it here. I hate living. I’m tired of breathing. I want to die Cliff”Ilya ranted, Cliff had no idea what Ilya was saying after the first part but it looked intense and sad so the only thing Cliff knew to do was wrap Ilya in his arms and hold him.
"I've never felt so...alive with somebody before and now I don't have him anymore I do not know how I can live knowing I'll never have him again"Ilya ranted. He was clearly deeply upset about what happened with him and Jane Cliff hoped he felt a little better getting some things off his chest even if he did say it in Russian and Cliff had no idea what he was saying.
“You do matter Roz. I love you, this whole team loves you, we’d be nothing without you, man, "Cliff said.
“‘Hates me”Ilya cried words slurring together and body shaking as he cried wetting Cliff’s neck but Cliff did not care. He was stunned. He had never expected that the one time he would see Ilya cry would be over a girl, he truly thought that Ilya did not have the emotions to cry like this. Ilya was always either joking or serious; this was all new territory for Cliff. Cliff awkwardly patted Ilya on the back as he continued to cry not knowing that he had changed Cliff’s life.
“There are plenty of fish out in the sea, Roz”Cliff said trying to comfort him but that did not seem to soothe Roz at all.
“Don’t care, only want ‘hane.”Ilya grumbled. Ilya had slept with plenty men and women but none of them made him feel the way he did when he was with Shane. He knows how dangerous it is and maybe he should be glad things are done between them, so he has the fear of Russia finding out no longer lingering in his mind, but Ilya knows that he will never encounter anybody else on this Earth who will make him feel things like he did with Shane.
Cliff knew that Ilya liked Jane but he did not realize that it was to this extent. Ilya still was out fucking other girls sometimes in the cities they were in so he didn’t know how serious they were, but the thought that this girl has his captain crying in his arms right now has shocked him into silence.
“Fucking Rose Laundry”Ilya grumbled. Cliff furrowed his eyebrows at the twist, because what did Rose Laundry have to do with Montreal Jane? Did they know each other? Did Rose Laundry get Montreal Jane to break up? There were so many questions going through Cliff's mind it was giving him a headache; he was used to only thinking about hockey and what club he wanted to go too to pick up girls.
"Roz man forget about Jane. We're here for another night tomorrow we'll go to another club and I'll find you somebody that'll make you forget about her"Cliff offered.
Ilya was silent for one second before more tears filled his eyes. Cliff froze.
"Or how about we can stay in and watch some hockey films instead?"Cliff quickly followed up. "Okay"Ilya mumbled before turning away and pushing his head in the pillow like he was trying to force himself to go to sleep. Cliff could take that as the end of the conversation as long as Ilya stopped crying.
Cliff sat up frowning, he grabbed his phone and made a new group chat for the Raiders without adding Ilya and he named it. 'SOS Rozanov'. He sent in a message telling the boys to meet him early tomorrow in the lobby, so they can help their captain get out of a slump and bring him back to life. Once he finished, Cliff sat his phone down nodding to himself in reassurance that Ilya would be back to new in no time.