Chapter Text
“And here is the dough laminator you bought us.” Becca said, as Cliff chomped down on a chocolate filled croissant. “The machine we needed to make the pain au chocolate you are eating like they are free.” Cliff finished the delicious, flaky buttery layered and chocolate filled pastry he had been happily eating. It was only his third one since he arrived ahead of his flight later this evening. How much could three pastries cost?
Cliff nodded, like the dutiful brother he was. Even though almost everything his sister was talking about sounded like a foreign language to him for how much he understood. His sister continued the tour with great enthusiasm. Showing Cliff things that had only been abstract line items on boring paper from his finance manager. He didn’t care. He had more money than he knew what the actual fuck he was supposed to do with it all. Funding his baby sister’s dream of owning a bakery with her wife was the single investment in his portfolio that had been his choice. Cliff wouldn’t care if this place only ever lost him money. He was just doing what he could to see his sister Becca live happily.
Becca hadn’t stopped talking, even though Cliff had stopped listening. “Real opening date hasn’t been set, we are testing recipes, and the kitchen, and having a soft launch until then. Unlocked doors, serving anyone who comes in the testers as we figure out all the machinery and work out the kinks in recipes. But no hard launching ourselves yet.” Becca explained her next steps to Cliff.
Cliff’s finance manager had tried to tell him that investing in a traditional bakery, for his sister, in LA was probably the actual worst financial choice he could make with the millions upon millions of dollars the MHL paid him annually. Cliff, per his usual disposition, did not fucking care about outside opinions on what he wanted to do with his money. The finance managers job was to make sure the money didn't run out with smartest investments. Everyone should just stay in their lane.
Becca turned to him, her face split by a constant, bright and wide smile. “I’m really opening a bakery in LA.” She said to Cliff, like all her dreams were coming true. Which might actually be the case, since the bakery would open in a week or so for real, she had a beautiful little house in a good neighbourhood, that Cliff had bought for her. She had fallen madly in love and was happily married, and not to outdo the bakery open or anything but Cliff knew the IVF treatment had worked on the first go and Nadine was secretly almost through her first trimester with their first baby. Cliff was going to be the best and worst kind of uncle. Never around, and with too much money to spend.
Seeing Becca looking like sunshine was why Cliff had done everything he had for her. He might have more money than sense like their mom had been telling him for years, he at least had enough sense to know helping his sister have the absolute best life possible was the best thing he could be doing with all the money he made playing fucking hockey for a job.
As if the best game on the entire planet could ever be considered a job. “I lost you talking too much about the business didn’t I?” Becca asked as she lightly punched his arm to get his attention back.
Cliff shook his head. “ Yea, ya know. I’ve never been good with the details…” He trailed off. The ever present family joke echoing in the silence he left open between them.
Good thing he was real good at hockey.
Good thing he was pretty and knew his manners.
Cause poor Cliff was as smart as a turnip.
“Thank you CJ.” Becca told him, looking up at him, like he was still the big kid on the playground that had made damn sure no one bothered his baby sister or stole any of her bright shiny light.
He kissed the top of her head, easily since she was nearly a full foot shorter than he was. “It’s my job.” He told her.
She wrapped her arms around his middle in a hug, carefully avoiding the bruised ribs from last night's game. “Enjoy the time you have left in the warm before your flight takes you back to the cold.” She told him. Breaking the hug and moving to open the door for him.
“I’ll see you Christmas and sometime after Christmas.” She nodded. Telling him she knew, they said a few more good bye and I will miss you things before Cliff was ushered out the door so his sister could actually get back to her new job.
Cliff smiled as he walked down the sidewalk. Today was a damn good day. Becca was happy enough for both of them. His team had won last night, and he had hot sunshine on his face. A beautician of a day if ever there was one.
The only problem clouding today was the same persistent problem plaguing him lately, Cliff found himself feeling, kind of lonely. Even when he was surrounded by his friends or team mates. Ever since the Hollanov wedding where he had been present as Illya Rozenov married Shane Hollender in front of like a hundred people in Illya’s backyard in Ottawa.
His former captain, playboy ladies man extraordinaire, top shelf wing man for pick ups Ilya Rozenov had gotten married to the best player in the league Shane Hollender. It had been a shock to learn along with the rest of the world that Ilya and Shane were together together thanks to a FanMail Video from Hayden Pike of all people that the greatest ladies man in the MHL was actually bisexual, and oh actually legit in love and about to marry a man.
It had been a wild ride. Cliff had a great time at the wedding, Ilya was always good at bringing a crowd of the best people together. The wedding had been basically the best backyard house party Cliff had ever been to.
But after seeing Ilya and Shane go fucking through it just because they loved each other. Cliff’s stomach clenching every single time he accidentally scrolled too far on social media and saw a hateful comment targeting them. Thinking about Becca, and how it didn’t matter how progressive the world seemed, shit was still fucking dark for people who just wanted to live their lives as themselves without performing some kind of bullshit. He didn’t understand why anyone got bent out of shape over shit like that.
What people want to get up to under the sheets as consenting adults just should not fucking matter to anyone who isn’t participating on the same mattress. Cliff was over the moon happy for Ilya, for Shane, for Becca and Nadine, for Scott Hunter and Kip. Fuck, times were hard, the world needed more love in it.
Ugh Cliff could feel the cliche in him building. All his friends, peers and coworkers were settling down, getting married and raising babies, and he was still living like a twenty year old frat boy. Regular friends with benefits in different cities, on the apps, and picking up in bars as needed to meet his physical needs.
It was fun, he was certainly not complaining. But… he was finding it a little more hollow than he used to. He wanted more than just a decent orgasm and a wet dick for one night. His lonely was not helped by his recent efforts at improving his own game on the ice, watching old game footage. Trying to track areas he was weak, focus in on strengths. Try being the analytical type with his game for the first time in his life.
However, knowing now that basically the entire time Rozzy and Hollander were in the MHL, they were also together; he had been shocked how easily he could see that Ilya and Shane had been fucking down bad like addicts for each other for years! No one had noticed when it had been right in front of everyone the entire time.
The worst had been rewatching the footage on the documentary where Cliff had flattened Shane with a clean hit that Shane just had not seen coming. Cause Cliff could clearly see, Shane had been looking at Ilya with fucking heart eyes. Cliff had broken Shane’s collar bone and given him a concussion. Knocking him out of the 2017 playoff season, and likely the reason Montreal was eliminated early from playoffs that year.
Ilya looked wrecked in the doc after the hit. Looking at Shane as he lay motionless on the ice. The documentary had gotten some different angles than the regular game play had shown. Cliff had needed to chomp down several chalky tums after watching the doc feeling so guilty for hurting Shane, and for how it had affected Ilya. He knew it hadn’t been a dirty play, he wasn’t like that. He just, did not like knowing he had added more shit when both of them were already suffering.
Cliff had gotten lost in his own thoughts again. A habit. When he heard a not quite familiar voice call his name on the sidewalk.