Chapter Text
“It’s that time of year again- we are at the 2027 MLH draft. And we’re lucky enough to have generational talent on display tonight. Dmitriy Savchenko- the latest Russian phenomenon and Canada’s newest remarkable talent- Jacob Gagnon. It looks like we’re setting up for another Hollander/Rozanov rivalry for the ages.”
Shane let out a groan as he settled in on the couch- various teammates and former teammates had gathered at their cottage. It had become somewhat of a tradition for them. MLH draft night both his and Ilya’s friends crashed here and they had a weekend of analyzing their new teammates, grilling way too much food, and generally just enjoying that they no longer had this pressure. Several of their friends had retired in recent years and they both knew- retirement was coming for them sooner rather than later. Shane had already been approached with offers to provide analysis and commentary- when he was ready. And with each new ache and pain, he was a little more ready to take that step.
“You think Ottawa is really going to try to get Savchenko- with the both of you?” Hayden Pike dropped into the couch next to him and offered him a whiskey and ginger ale- over the years with Ilya they’d discovered that this was the one drink he truly enjoyed. It regularly made an appearance during the season when going out to celebrate with the team won out for the night.
“We’re 36, Hayd. You’re retired. They’ve got to start thinking ahead when it comes to the next great Russian/Canadian rivalry. I’m only a couple broken bones away from being done.”
“Yeah- I’ll fucking believe that when I see it.” Cliff Marleau chirped from the other couch, his leg propped up on a couple of pillows- recovering from an ACL tear. Ilya had talked with him a bit about where this left him career wise and it was bleak. Even if he fully recovered- it was a lot to put his body through to get back to hockey shape. Fortunately- Boston had agreed to hold career decisions until after he had healed. Although they all were pretty sure what the answer would be.
“God, they’re fucking kids. Can they just not start the rivalry talk so soon.” Troy Barrett leaned in closer to the tv and shook his head. Shane knew that the others didn’t get it. They didn’t get what it was like to be this level of talented- even though they were all talented to make it to the MLH. None of them were first draft pick prospects- except him and Ilya. But he agreed with him on the rivalry talk- it was too much. It had been too much back when he was the one being forced into a rivalry he didn’t really want.
“Last greatest hockey rivalry of generation- turned out to be love story. Maybe they should stop while ahead.”
“Did you both talk with them?”
“Only me. Savchenko has level head, good player. Quiet. Remind me of Shane. Single mother- Russian professor of literature; has offers from universities in Ottawa and Montreal for her to join their Russian department. Gagnon…fucking hell…I…I feel like I need to apologize every veteran player that I was asshole to. From Canada. Probably in skates before he could even walk. But he’s good, could be great- either of them could go first.”
“Yeah, but you’re not that cocky if you aren’t fucking amazing.”
“Also openly gay. He asked about the culture in Ottawa when it comes to being out.”
“Holy fuck. Is he…that would be the first player in the draft to be out. Montreal probably won’t touch him…Toronto?”
Shane glared at Hayden’s question, but for only a moment. There were days when he still got angry about how his time in Montreal had ended about how they’d treated him. About being turned into a villain for just loving who he loved. He wouldn’t wish his fate on anyone and from what he’d heard of the Montreal locker room- it hadn’t improved since he left.
“With Dallas Kent good and gone and the cleaning house that they did- it’s possible. Do we really think they’re both going to the east?”
“If they’re pitching the rivalry this hard, there’s a good chance. You don’t do this when they’re going to be on opposite coasts and play against each other twice a year- maybe.”
“You…you would actually know that from experience. Do you think it would have been different if you and Rozy were on…”
“Shut up. First pick.”
“And trading up- the first pick of the 2027 Draft is Dmitriy Savchenko…going to the Ottawa Centaurs.”
Photo op. Talk with the GM. Stay near his mother whose English was better, even though his own was above average for a Russian player. Talk just enough to make people feel at ease about another Russian phenom in the MLH. He was wildly fortunate- he’d lived in the U.S. and Great Britain as a child- with his mother and grandparents. He knew this was part of why they could afford to stake their hopes on him excelling in hockey and he’d excelled. He had certainly excelled.
He took a break, stepped outside to get some fresh air. He hated being around this many people, but he loved hockey. Hockey was what gave him all of the chances he’d gotten in his life. Making the junior national team to be able to travel the world- an almost sure bet at the senior national team after this draft. It was the one thing that made his father proud and while his father had never publicly claimed him- he knew what would show up at the hotel tonight. A large bottle of vodka and a promise to visit for a game. But they both knew he couldn’t visit- the Russian Minister of Defense would never be allowed in either the U.S. or Canada for a hockey game.
“Got a light?”
He looked up and then dug in his pocket to produce a lighter. Jacob Gagnon. They’d been in similar circles for years- said hello here and there when they ran into each other at camps. Had even bunked together for one international camp a couple of years ago because they were the youngest at the elite camp. He’d not been shocked to hear Jacob come out as gay- had listened to his father spit all kinds of vitriol about how the MLH was going soft to allow ‘that fag’ to run the league. He knew who his father was referring to- knew that the one thing he’d be pissed off about was that he’d now be playing with Ilya Rozanov. He also knew that if his father knew his secret- he’d be disowned forever.
“Your family seems happy.”
“I’m living the Canadian fucking dream- Savchenko. We’re fucking ecstatic. Toronto…it’s not Montreal but after their shit with Shane Hollander- it’s a far better fit. Fuck- you get to be on a team WITH THEM. You gotta tell me if the rumors are true.”
“We are supposed to hate each other.”
“Yeah- so were they- but we’ve seen how that worked out. Look- we’ll have plenty of time to fake hate each other…but…who else is going to get it? Get this. I don't want to hate you, Dima.”
He studied him carefully. His sepia brown skin, the untameable- currently golden blonde- curls on his head. The bright green eyes he had stared into for far too long on more than one occasion. He found himself doing that again as he forced a nod. Gagnon had a point. He understood the pressures. He was the only person who might be even close to living the same life as him. And he knew life was going to get harder for them if they didn’t find a way to agree on what they were going to do with this…forced…rivalry.
“You at the Ritz-Carlton too?” Another stiff nod. “Cool. I’m in 612- come hang.”
“I…I’m not sure…”
“No pressure, Savchenko. But there’s no one else I really want to celebrate this with and we can’t exactly do that once we walk back inside. Only way we get to celebrate is alone. If you want, I'll be waiting.”
“11?”
“11 works great.”