Archive of Our Own ^beta

When Luca found out he had been drafted by the Ottawa Centaurs, everyone had been shocked by his elation. 

He knew the Ottawa team wasn’t very good. That it was, in fact, one of the worst ones in the league. But he also knew something else: Ilya Rozanov played for the Ottawa Centaurs. So no matter how badly the team was doing, the tide would turn. 

Luca wasn’t a boastful guy. He preferred to stay in the shadows. Which he did, most of the time, unless he was on the ice somewhere. He wanted nothing more than to be part of the change that was coming for Ilya Rozanov's new and unlikely team. So when the centaurs had picked him, he hadn’t felt any of the disappointment that people around him had seemed to expect—he only felt excitement. 

～ 

Moving from Switzerland, from the comfort of central Europe and the security of being close to his family, all the way to Canada had almost been the end of him. He was so excited to play in the NHL, but leaving home to do it had almost felt like too high a price to pay for the privilege. 

Luca felt a bit ashamed to admit that the thought of Ilya Rozanov doing the same thing when he was eighteen had given him strength as he himself moved across the world. But he would never admit that out loud. Especially not since he was about to start playing his first NHL season, on the same team as the man himself. 

“And you’re sure you don’t need a mattress topper? You know they are not only for comfort, but they also protect the mattress.” The sound of German echoed around the empty apartment. Luca was on his daily video call with his mother, showing her the furniture that had arrived from IKEA earlier that day, and her voice trickled out of the speaker. 

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes and smile affectionately. He knew that this overprotectiveness stemmed from sadness at their separation. And since he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty over it, he never complained when she tried to sort his life out, even countries away. 

“Mami, if I need one, I promise to buy one, okay?” she grumbled something that sounded like ‘you say that now’ but she didn’t push harder, to which Luca was thankful.

On his fifth lap pacing around his apartment, he accidentally, but fortunately, glanced at the digital clock on the microwave. “Scheisse,” he swore quietly. “I need to run, or I’ll be late for practice.” 

He was already heading to the entryway of his little apartment, where his big bag was waiting, neatly packed and ready for practice.

His mother hummed understandingly, and on the screen she waved her hand, as he knew it meant ‘get a move on’. “Yes, yes, don’t be late. We will talk more later. Liebe dich!” She made a kissy face at the screen, then logged off the call. 

Luca knew that she just didn’t want to make him later than he had to be, but he still ached at not having said it back. He sent her a text, then added a red heart. He hoped she knew how much he missed her. 

～

One thing about being on the same team as Ilya Rozanov was that no matter how late you were, Ilya would probably arrive even later. 

He had come to learn this as early as his first ever practice with the Centaurs. And one week into training camp, this was still true. 

Luca was already doing up his laces by the time his captain swaggered into the locker room, looking not the least stressed about his late arrival. No, he looked as though he was king of the world. He was dressed in grey sweatpants and a tightly fitting t-shirt that hugged his abs, his face set in the perfect resting-bitch-face. 

Luca didn’t swoon. He didn’t have a crush on his captain. Sure, he was still starstruck by the wonder of the man, his idol, but he had come a long way from the teenage Luca who had had his sexual awakening to an Ilya Rozanov poster. But some part of Luca swooned at the way his teenage self would have fainted. 

“You okay, Haasy?” the voice of alternative captain Zane Boodram came from his left. He startled. 

He startled, and he turned to look at Bood with big eyes. Had he been staring? “Eh, yes, I spaced out, sorry.” 

Bood looked sceptical, but he let it drop, opting instead to pat Luca on the shoulder. “Alright, rook, space back in and get out on the ice.” 

Luca nodded, finishing tying his laces and then hurrying out of the locker room. 

During practice, Harris was standing behind the boards with his phone pointed toward the ice. Luca had grown accustomed to this. Harris, the social media manager, was diligent in capturing short videos of all the players for social media. So far, Luca had avoided being questioned by him, but it seemed as though today was the day his luck turned. 

“Luca! Come here and say hi to the camera!” The voice of Harris cut through Luca’s practice focus. Coach Wiebe had been wringing them out, and Luca was exhausted; his blond hair was sticking to his forehead, and all of his limbs felt heavy. 

Having a camera in his face and answering Harris’s quirky questions was the last thing he wanted to do, but he sighed and accepted his fate. 

He skated up to where Harris was standing by the rink. “Hey Harris, what's up?” He tried to act casual, not to appear as shy as he felt. He looked at Harris, making sure not to acknowledge the phone, which was positioned only a few inches from his face. 

“First off, welcome to the team! How does it feel to be a Centaur?” Harris was asking. This was, thankfully, an easy question. 

Luca couldn’t help the smile on his face. “It feels great to be a part of this team. I’m looking forward to this season.” He knew that this probably sounded like a practised PR answer. People wouldn’t have guessed that anyone was excited to play for Ottawa, but to Luca, this was completely true. 

“Now, I assume you are excited about many things when it comes to this season, but if you had to choose one, what would that be?” 

Luca contemplated this. It was true, he was excited about a lot. This was his first season playing in the NHL, for starters. And while it scared him, he was looking forward to living on his own. He wanted to prove himself on the ice and help this team. But there was really only one answer to the question of what Luca was most excited about. 

“Well, I’m really excited to play on the same team as Ilya Rozanov,” he said shyly. He suddenly wished that his captain would never see this video. God, that would be embarrassing. “It’s truly a dream come true.”

As if summoned by the devil, Rozanov chose that moment to come skating by where Luca and Harris were standing. “Hey Harris,” he called out, accent heavy. “Stop bothering Haas, he’s the future right there. Need to focus on hockey, not cute video!” 

Luca felt his face turn red. He felt mortified that this interaction was now immortalised on camera and would soon be on the Centaurs' official Instagram. Oh well. 

He looked up at Harris. Harris was beaming. Urgh. “Well, you heard him,” Luca stammered out. “Better get back to…” he gestured behind himself, towards where practice was still going on, if maybe slowing down a little. “ehh.. hockey.” 

Well said, Haas. He sighed, but turned around and joined the winding down of practice. 

～

Luca first noticed that Ilya Rozanov might not be totally okay at the beginning of October. 

The thing about Rozanov was that no one on the team knew much about him. They all had an idea of what he was like from having seen his face splashed on gossip rags, attached to a new woman every night. They’d all heard tales of wild parties in Boston.

Maybe it was the Ottawa air, but the version of Ilya Rozanov that the world seemed to know was loud only in its obvious absence. 

They all had theories, and those theories had been around as long as Roz had been on the team. But Luca didn’t feel as though it was his place to speculate about his idol and the captain’s personal life. 

However, Luca was starting to think that maybe his captain wasn’t doing so well. 

The first time the thought entered his mind was after his first game. His first-ever NHL goal. 

They hadn’t won, but that almost didn’t matter. It especially didn’t matter when Bood was shouting ”The fucking future right there,” across the room during Coach Wiebe’s post-loss-pep-talk. 

Bood’s voice echoed around his head, mixing with Roz’s nearly identical words from a few weeks earlier.

Luca was in awe, so much in awe that he stumbled through most of the post-game press. He almost struggled to get the words out in English. 

After the locker room quieted down, Luca just sat there in his stall, unable to start taking off his gear. He didn’t want this moment to end. He wanted to stay in the blissful feeling he had felt on the ice as the puck had soared into the net. 

”We can get that, um, made like a trophy,” Roz’s voice almost made him jump. The locker room had quieted down, not that Luca had noticed. 

His captain was standing in front of him in nothing but a towel. 

Luca immediately felt embarrassed. ”It’s just one goal.” It didn’t feel like just one goal, though. It felt like… like the entire world. 

Roz sat next to him. His talk about his own first goal puck, and how that still meant a lot to him, made Luca feel less embarrassed. He knew that his captain was probably just saying this to make him feel better. And it was working. Luca was again struck by how wrong everyone’s perception of this man was. 

A finger was poked into his arm, and a question was asked, “Are you going to Monk’s?” 

Luca knew that was the team’s preferred bar, both for the occasional celebration but most often for drowning of sorrows. 

Luca could only stare at his captain. At his idol. ”Are you?” He couldn’t help but ask. Not that it was any of his business. 

Because Luca was already staring at the older man, he saw a range of emotions play across his face. It started with guilt, and it ended in pure, utter exhaustion. 

Luca knew then what the next words out of Ilya Rozanov’s mouth would be. He had heard his sister say them many times. He knew what they meant. And he knew that they most likely weren’t true. 

“Next time,” Ilya Rozanov said with a smile that carried nothing but the guilt of wishing he meant those words while not actually, really caring. 

Luca still went to Monk’s, though, even with the gnawing feeling of not good not good running through him. He decided he was going to have fun. He had scored his first NHL goal for fucks sake! He needed to celebrate with his team and not worry about why his captain wasn’t there with them. 

“For Haas! And his first NHL goal!” Dykstra shouted, already a few beers in. The entire table cheered, and even Luca was intoxicated enough to cheer as well. He started to chug his drink, but halfway through, he had to set it down and breathe heavily. 

Bood raised his hand from where he was sitting in the corner of their booth. “Okay, okay, this is the last one, guys. We have practice tomorrow.” 

They all laughed around the table. “Yes, Dykstra, listen to your alt cap!” Hayes called from where he was sitting next to Luca. 

“Stepping up when Rozy isn’t around, I see how it is,” Dykstra pointed a finger in Bood’s face. He was smiling brightly. “And you used to be fun!” 

“Hey, I’m plenty fun! But impending fatherhood makes a man question his decisions.” Even having said this, Bood reached over to Dykstra and grabbed the half-empty beer from his hand and chugged it himself. 

There were enthusiastic calls around the room as they cheered Bood on. 

Luca didn’t join in, though. His thoughts had stuck with what Dykstra had said, and his stomach had been reminded of the uneasy feeling that had haunted him since his brief talk with Rozanov in the locker room earlier that evening. 

The entire situation, however brief, reminded Luca so much of a time he would rather not revisit – a time covered in worry. It unsettled him. 

“Why the creased eyebrow?” Hayes nudged Luca with his elbow and whispered in a low voice. 

Luca hadn’t noticed that he had gone quiet enough to draw attention. Shit. He shouldn’t talk about this. 

“Roz doesn’t come to these things often… does he?” Maybe he was too drunk not to ask what was on his mind. 

Hayes studied Luca for a moment. “No,” he said carefully. “But it’s not because he doesn’t like the team!” he reassured, most likely thinking that Luca’s creased eyebrow came from uncertainty about his captain and the team. Luca almost wished that were the case. 

“No, no, I just— you know what? It doesn’t matter.” He forced a smile, trying to get Wyatt to stop asking about this. 

Wyatt narrowed his eyes on Luca, and he might not know the man very well yet, but Luca could hear the cogs working in his brain. 

“Okay, kid,” he paused, seemingly done, and Luca definitely felt done with the conversation. But Hayes continued anyway. “Just know that you can come to any of us, okay?” 

Luca immediately felt embarrassed; his ears were probably turning red. He nodded so vigorously that it was surprising Hayes didn’t think him crazy. He probably did, honestly. 

The two of them turned back to the table, but Luca’s head wasn’t there for the rest of the evening. 

～ 

The first thing Luca did the next morning was to call his sister. 

His head was pounding slightly after the drinks from the previous night, but he needed to talk to his sister. Desperately. 

Luckily, he caught her during her lunch break. 

“Hallo, Luca,” Mia said as soon as the call connected. Luca couldn’t help a small smile to creep onto his face, as it always did whenever he talked to his older sister. 

“Hallo Mia,” he replied. He cradled the phone to his face, happy to hear her voice. He didn’t call her nearly enough. 

They talked about nothing for a little while, catching each other up on their lives. Luca told Mia about Ottawa, and Mia told Luca about life back in Zurich, complaining about the little things that came with sharing an apartment with her boyfriend. 

Eventually, there was a lull in the conversation, when their normal catch-ups came to a standstill, and Mia waited patiently for him to bring up the reason he called. 

“I actually had something I wanted to… run… by you, I suppose,” he knew he sounded unsure. 

Mia hummed encouragingly. Luca appreciated that she didn’t say anything; she knew him well enough to know he needed to build momentum to ask, and that being talked to would only halt it. 

“Remember when you, hm, no, I think that maybe, urgh, I don’t know how to say it in a delicate way,” Luca swore, chewing his lips. Why couldn’t he just voice his concerns and ask his sister for advice? 

“You don’t need to be delicate with me, Luca,” Mia said, and while it was soft, her voice had an edge to it. 

“No, no, I know,” Luca said immediately, cursing himself. “I’m worried that one of my teammates might suffer from depression,” he blurted out. Then, he immediately wanted to slap himself. “And like, I don’t know what to do. I hardly know him, no, I don’t know him at all. So, it’s not like, you know. But I’m still worried. And I don’t think anyone else has really… noticed… that something might be, you know, up?” Coming from Luca, that was an insane ramble. 

“Oh, Luca,” Mia’s voice had gone incredibly soft. “You can’t talk to him? Let him know you’re there for him? That’s what made me feel secure enough to even admit that I needed help, you know.” 

Luca did know. That time in their life had been a dark one. It had taken Mia years to get back from the rock bottom where she had resided for most of Luca’s pre-teen years. 

“I don’t think he would listen to me,” Luca whispers. “As I said, I don’t even know him. I don’t even know if he has anyone.” The thought that Rozanov was all alone all the time had been haunting Luca since it had occurred to him. His only solace was that Roz was at least making it to practice every day.

“Hmm,” Mia seemed to think. “Everyone is so different, Luca, but maybe you can get to know him.”

She had a point. Only, Luca had no idea how to do that. But he could try. For his captain, who might be depressed, who might be all alone, who might really need a friend, Luca could try. 

Hopefully, it would turn out that he was overreacting. 

～

And so began Luca’s quest to befriend Ilya Rozanov. 

This seemed like an impossible mountain to climb, especially since Luca was nothing but a rookie, and Rozanov hardly ever joined any team gatherings. 

Then, one game day, Rozanov came into the changing rooms carrying two takeaway cups. 

Luca only had a second to consider who the second coffee was for before Roz came walking up to Luca. 

“Black coffee for you, Haas.” He held one of the cups out. Roz looked at Luca, a hint of amusement in his eye, as Luca could do nothing but accept the cup in confusion. How did Roz even know he took his coffee black? 

Just as Roz was about to walk away, apparently having accomplished his goal of making Luca flustered, Luca remembered his quest. 

“Wait,” he called out after the blond hunk of a man who had just turned away. Shit, shit, what was he even going to say? “Are you coming to Monks after the game?” This was probably a stupid question, and Luca immediately wanted to crawl back into himself. He wanted to take the question back. He didn’t want to have to face Roz saying no yet again. 

But, to Luca’s immense surprise, he got to study Roz’s face as it did something very complicated. He definitely hadn’t known his captain long enough to interpret the thoughts and feelings flittering over his face. And then, suddenly and taking Luca completely by surprise, Roz said, “Maybe, might be good with a drink.” 

Roz must have seen the happiness that violently exploded all through Luca, shining in his face, because he smiled weakly. “Maybe,” he emphasised, as though not to get Luca’s hopes up. Too late, they were already up. 

Naturally, they lost the game. Luca left the ice feeling wrung out, defeated, and so so tired. The worst of it all wasn’t even that they had lost the game; they were good at losing, they were doing that often enough. No, the worst of it was the sound of Roz’s “maybe” that still rang though his head. There was no chance that Roz would come out tonight. He pathetically had to fight back tears that were starting to press against his eyes. Luca made sure that none of his teammates saw his wet eyes. 

“Rough night every night.” Luca heard the way Roz said the words quietly to his left. The defeat and sadness carried in those four words made Luca feel even worse than he had moments before. 

Luca remembered being a starry-eyed teenager. The way he had sat on the couch in the living room back home in Zurich, and how he had watched every Boston game that streamed on the international sports channel that his parents paid a fortune for every month. Luca remembered the way Ilya Rozanov would fly over the ice, vibrating with energy and carrying so much skill. And most importantly, Luca remembered how the Boston Bears had enough skill across the team to back up the enigma that was Ilya Rozanov. 

Luca wished he could give that to his captain. Which was a stupid thing to think. 

He must have zoned out for a second or two, because suddenly Roz was standing on the bench, loudly proclaiming, “Halloween party this year is at my house, okay?”

As the rest of the team cheered, Luca could only feel surprised and confused. But then he felt a creeping sensation of giddiness in his belly; this was a good sign! Right? 

The rest of the team was still being loud, and from down the row of stalls, Luca could hear Wyatt debating whether to dress as Spider-Man from the latest Marvel film or as some Strange guy whom Luca had never heard of. 

“I’m going to go simple: Pirate all the way, baby!” Bood shouted in response to Hazy’s debate.  

“Hey, Haasy,” a voice said quietly to Luca’s left. He turned to look at Roz straight in his eyes. “Sorry about Monks, I, eh, I do not think anyone will go tonight anyway. Everyone is tired, beaten.” To his credit, Roz did actually seem genuinely sorry. 

Luca immediately felt a wave of guilt. The last thing he wanted was for Roz to feel bad; that wasn’t good, not good at all. 

“No, no,” he hurried to say. “No reason to say sorry. And you’re right, I’m super tired anyway, so going back home will definitely be good.” 

Roz narrowed his eyes at Luca, seemingly thinking hard. Then, he gave Luca a small nod and the hint of a smile. That was something at least. 

～ 

Two days later, Luca was sitting in the cafeteria at the training facility. Mostly, staff and trainers used this specific facility, but Luca liked the people-watching he could do here. There were so many people involved in the running of a hockey team, and Luca felt so distant from them. Sitting here,observing them in their everyday routine, made him feelcloser to everyone who made his life work as smoothly as it mostly did. 

Suddenly, a tray hit the table opposite him. For a second, Luca thought it was going to be Roz joining him for lunch. But he immediately realised how absurd that notion was. He was pleasantly surprised to see Wyatt Hayes sit down. 

“Oh, hi, Hazy,” he said, pathetically, but he honestly didn’t have that much else to say. Wyatt was one of the nicest people on the team. He was quiet most of the time, an observer, and, like all goalies, a little bit weird. Luca liked him, but they didn’t really know each other. 

He didn’t really know any of the guys on the team. Sure, he talked to some of the other rookies, but they weren’t really his friends. Luca was suddenly struck by the fact that he didn’t actually have any real friends in Ottawa yet. The thought didn’t exactly make him sad, but it made him think that maybe he should focus on making friends with people who weren’t his emotionally distant, almost ten years older, captain. 

“Do you always eat lunch here?” Hayes said while he simultaneously started shovelling food into his own mouth. His eyes didn’t leave Luca, and he felt like Hayes could see all of his thoughts and feelings. 

“Eh, sometimes?” he couldn’t help but answer the extremely simple question like a question of its own. “I mean, yes, sometimes, I like to be around the staff who make this place run; I never see them otherwise.” He immediately regrets uttering all those thoughts to Hayes; it would have been better to keep them to himself. 

Wyatt was looking at him, as though he was reevaluating everything he knew about Luca.

“Hm, Roz did say that you were a good kid to talk to,” Hayes said flippantly, going back to his food. The comment flipped Luca’s entire world, though. 

“Wait, what?” he felt stunned. Wyatt turned his eyes up, looking at Luca again. “Roz talked to you about me?” 

Wyatt tilted his head inquisitively. “I talk to Roz about a lot of things.” 

This statement immediately set Luca’s brain whirring in a direction other than, “Oh mein Gott, Ilya Rozanov is talking about me,” and, seemingly without any self-control, he blurted out, “Do you talk about…how he is doing?” 

This made Wyatt pause with his spoon halfway to his mouth. “What?” 

Luca wanted to bang his head into the table. Why had he felt the need to speak up? Why couldn’t he just have let all his thoughts and worries fester in his mind away from the ears of everyone else? 

His mother’s voice echoed in his head, “We need to talk about our concerns, Luca, otherwise they will never go away”. Well, mother, look at me talking about my concerns. 

“Eh, I just mean,” he scrambled for words under the scrutinising look Wyatt had directed at him. He took a deep breath. “Sometimes I think that he might not be entirely okay, like,” he waved his hand around slightly, not knowing exactly what to say. 

Wyatt had a weird look on his face; he seemed to be thinking about it hard. “What makes you say that?” 

“I—” he didn’t know what to say. Would his sister be upset if he mentioned her? He doubted it. She was very open about the struggles she had faced during her teenage years and how far she had come since then. 

“Well, nothing substantial,” he struggled to get word out effortlessly, but he didn’t let that stop him. “But sometimes Roz reminds me of my sister during the early stages of her depression. Thoughts I— eh, things I have been angry with myself about since then, because I should have noticed earlier.” 

The words landed hard between the two of them. It was quiet for a while. Luca looked at Wyatt, who seemed deep in thought. “I don’t want to make that mistake again,” he added. 

“Shit, kid, I don’t know what to say.” Wyatt looked uncomfortable, like people often are when unsure how to handle a delicate situation. 

He didn’t need to feel uncomfortable, though. “Don’t worry, Hazy, my sister is fine,” he tried to sound supportive. “She’s spent many years in therapy, and she has a great support system. But I don’t know…” he trailed off. 

Wyatt, however, seemed to catch on to Luca’s trail of thought. “But does Roz have that? Especially here in Ottawa?” 

Luca could only nod. 

They sat there, eating in quiet. 

“Shit, man, I’ve never even considered this?” Wyatt was the one to break the silence. 

“You can’t blame yourself for not noticing, Hazy, believe me,” he tried to reassure his older teammate. “I’m just hoping I can help him… somehow.” 

“I think he has someone, though,” Wyatt said, surprising Luca both with the suddenness of it and the content of it. 

Luca hadn’t been on the team long enough to know the rumour mill of the Ottawa Centaurs. He felt relieved knowing that Roz might have someone special in his life. Luca had been catastrophising thinking that  Roz was all alone. “He does? Who?” 

Wyatt grimaced. “Well–” he drew out the word and scratched his brow. “I don’t actually know who?” 

Now Luca was confused. “What do you mean that you don’t actually know?” 

“Roz never talks about his private life, and he has never actually mentioned a girlfriend.” Wyatt had started to eat again, gathering loose peas onto his fork. Luca hated peas. He tried not to focus on the ugly, green little orbs. “But he is always disappearing; he barely ever joins the team on days off, and he’s always texting. It screams secret girlfriend. Bood agrees with me.” 

Just when he said this, as though the universe was trying to prove his point. Ilya Rozanov walked through the doors of the training facility. The cafeteria, located at the front of the building, was separated from the hallway connected to the entryway by a glass wall. Luca was convinced that this glass wall was entirely for people-watching purposes. 

Right now, Luca was very happy with his role as a people watcher, because he got to see Rozanov walk through the doors with a small smile on his face and a phone pressed to his ear. He said something that didn’t travel through the glass wall, and he even chuckled at the reply he was given. 

“Hm,” Luca hummed. “Would you look at that?” 

Then, in a completely unsubtle move, Wyatt turned around to follow Luca’s gaze. Luca was sure that Roz would see them and immediately know that they had been talking about him, butby some miracle, Roz didn’t even glance in their direction. Instead, he just continued talking on the phone, a soft smile painted on his features. He walked past them, heading toward the gym, still not hanging up the phone. 

“I wonder who it is,” Luca muttered to himself, not really aware that he was saying it. So he was taken by surprise when Wyatt answered. 

“I have yet to get that out of him.” 

Luca hoped that whoever this person was, they would prove themselves worthy of the smile that he had seen on Roz’s face. 

Maybe it was foolish, the way Luca felt a sort of protectiveness over his captain. He was a rookie, nine years younger, and overall inexperienced in most matters of life. He was twenty years old, for fucks sake; he basically knew nothing about anything outside of hockey. 

None of this seemed relevant, though. Luca was determined to make sure that Roz had a support system that would catch him if he fell, but if Luca could choose, Roz would not fall any further. 

～ 

A week after Luca’s somewhat enlightening conversation with Wyatt, the Centaurs were playing a game in Montreal—and Luca scored his second NHL goal. The only one who seemed more excited about it than he was was Roz. 

Roz collided with Luca on the ice. He was screaming in elation as he knocked his helmet against Luca’s. Luca needed to grab onto Roz’s arms to stop from falling over. But only a second later, Bood collided with him from behind, and he was suddenly squashed between his two captains. 

“Fucking beauty, kid!” Bood was screaming into Luca’s ear.  “Legendary!” 

Luca didn’t even blush; he was too busy smiling so wide his cheeks hurt. 

Naturally, Shane Hollander scored a goal just seconds later. But somehow, that didn’t even matter to Luca. He knew they weren’t going to win this one, not against a team as tight as the Voyageurs, so it didn’t really bother him. 

His line was on the bench for the next face-off, and he watched as Roz and Hollander chirped each other. Luca could see a smile on his captain’s face, and Luca was reminded of the fact that those two were friends. He wondered if that would ever feel normal. 

When Roz made his way to the bench a few minutes later, biting his teeth together to not show the pain he was in after having taken a puck to the knee, Luca overheard Hollander asking him if he was okay. Hollander had a look of genuine concern on his face. 

They went out after the game. Roz did not join them. 

“He never goes out in Montreal,” Wyatt said after Luca gathered the courage to ask, two beers in. “He claims he hates the Montral night life, but I don’t see how that can be true!” 

Luca didn’t listen to the rest of the team throwing chirps around; he was too busy trying to pinpoint the reason behind the itching at the back of his mind. 

～ 

It was almost totally by accident that Luca discovered the fact that Ilya Rozanov’s Instagram page was filled with pictures. It hadn’t always been like that. This Luca knew, because he used to follow it as a teenager. But, since creating a new Instagram account, with a blue tick next to it and a bio that said “professional hockey player for the Ottawa Centaurs”, he hadn’t been following his captain’s Instagram posts. 

So, it was thanks to a rabbit hole of doomscrolling that led him to a post by @ilyarozanov81. It was only a day old and depicted two plastic rings lying side by side on a dresser. Quickly, he clicked onto the rest of the account and started scrolling through all the posts. 

They seemed random. Too random even. It was so random that Luca couldn’t help but wonder if they were all, in fact, very intentional. 

He paused for a few moments, contemplating. When he clicked onto his own profile, it was tragically empty, filled only by official PR he had been instructed to post by Harris.

He thought about it for a second, then clicked the little ‘plus’ sign and started scrolling through his camera roll. He chose two pictures. One of them was taken by Bood a few weeks ago, the other taken by Wyatt the day before. In both of them, he was smiling widely at the camera, his eyes blinking with post-game emotion, as he held up a normal-looking puck. 

“1st and 2nd NHL goal 🏒 #GoCentaurs”, he wrote as the caption. He hit ‘post’ without thinking too much about it. 

Fifteen minutes later, a message from Harris pinged on his phone: 

Harris (social media): I absolutely LOVE the news post, Luca! PLEASE keep it up, and don’t hesitate to ask if you need ideas for more posts 🔥🔥

Luca liked the message. Then he went to bed. Social media would have to wait a few days.

～ 

When Roz had said he was going to host a Halloween party, Luca hadn’t known what to expect. 

That Ilya Rozanov lived in a mansion that looked out over the Ottawa River was not a surprise. Although he couldn’t help but feel amazed as he walked through the doors and stepped into the house. It was a long way away from his, admittedly nice, apartment. 

He and some of the other young players were taking advantage of the range of free drinks available in Rozanov's kitchen to let go of the lingering awkwardness from not knowing what was allowed and what wasn't. 

Being in his captain’s, house was scary. He didn’t want to do something that could upset the man; which, admittedly, would have been a good enough reason not to get hammered. But the nervousness and the group's energy had him downing drink after drink until his Clark Kent Halloween costume looked dishevelled. 

“m gonna go find… toilet,” he slurred to his teammates. He didn’t wait to see if they were replying; he only staggered off. 

Upon finding the downstairs bathroom occupied, he eyed the stairs with suspicion. Rozanov had said there was another bathroom up there, which must mean they were allowed to use it. Luca started to make his way up the stairs, weakly clutching only the railing as he made his way up. 

Finally, at the bathroom sink, he splashed water on his face two times. He even cupped them together to catch some of the water in his hands and brought them up to his mouth to drink. After a few more minutes of this, having taken a leak and sitting a few minutes on the edge of the bathtub just breathing, he felt better and more in control. 

He was definitely switching to water. 

Someone was making their way up the stairs. Luca should probably get out of the bathroom so someone else could use it.

He slipped out just in time to see Roz, still in his shiny breast plate and fake sword, slip into a room further down the hall. 

What Luca did next, he blamed entirely on the alcohol still buzzing all through his body. Sober Luca would have let it be; he would have stayed out of Rozanov’s business and needed a quiet moment during a busy party. But Drunk Luca didn’t feel the same. Drunk Luca went straight to catastrophising. 

He tiptoed down the hallway and paused outside the closed door. It was quiet at first, no sounds coming from within, and Luca almost wondered if Roz had been a hallucination. 

But then a small sound, too close to a broken whimper to Luca’s liking, came from behind the door. It was quickly followed by a small “Fuck.” 

Luca waited just a moment before knocking in the door. 

A sharp intake of breath on the other side. 

“Eh,” Luca started to say without a plan on where he was headed with it. “Roz? It’s, eh, it’s me. Eh, Luca?” 

Quiet. And then, “You can come in, Haasy.” 

Luca had, surprisingly, not expected that. 

Slowly, he opened the door just a fraction, giving Roz time to change his mind and tell Luca to fuck off. 

He didn’t, though. Instead, he was sitting up, slightly leaning against the headboard of his bed. He looked exhausted. But more than that, he looked defeated. 

“I’m sorry, I,” Luca starts saying, but he doesn’t walk away. A loud, heavily inebriated part of his brain shouted at him that this was it: reach out NOW. The part of his brain that was slowly rediscovering self-control, however, didn’t know how to proceed with the situation. 

“I really didn’t mean to interrupt. If you want to be alone, just say so, and I will fuck right off. But like, if you’re sitting here, in the dark, wishing you had quiet company, then I can be that, too.” Luca cringed slightly at his ramble.

Roz was quiet, and that made Luca’s stomach turn. He had said the wrong thing, hadn’t he? Urgh, why was this so difficult? He tried again, “I guess, what I mean to say is that—.” 

“Luca,” Roz said his name with such force that it shut him up. “Don’t worry, I, you’re right, some quiet company would be nice.” 

When his sister had been at her worst, Luca would be silent company all the time. He had become a pro at it. He would just sit in her bed with her, not touching her, just being a reassuring presence beside her. He would be there for her to reach out to if she wanted to. 

So, Luca slipped into the room and into the role of silent support. He slid down the wall next to the door and leaned his head against it. Determined to be silent for his captain’s sake. 

For a long time, they sat there in silence. The only sound was the distant base of the music from downstairs, mixing with the sound of their breaths. 

Then, when Luca was teetering on the edge of sleep, Roz spoke up. “I’m sorry, I’m not a better captain. For you, or anyone else on this team.” His voice shook as he said the words, threatening to break as he forced them out. 

Luca’s heart shattered into a million pieces. “No,” he hurried to get out. “Roz, no, you’re,” he was forced to stop, not knowing exactly how to encapsulate how wrong Roz was. “Ilya, you’re a great captain, the best. Even if you’re going through things. It doesn’t change that.” 

To Luca’s great surprise, Ilya covered his face with his hands and sighed deeply. 

It was probably the alcohol talking, but Luca felt as though he could safely push just a little further. “And as your teammates, we’re here for you, always, if you ever need it. For anything. Always.” When he didn’t get a response to that, he charged on. “I know that the situation is so very different between the two of us, like duh, obviously; you’re like, you know, you. But I understand maybe feeling… lonely? Sometimes?” 

If Luca was right about Ilya struggling with depression, then the comparison would be weak. But maybe that would make the older man feel as though he could open up a bit to his fellow misplaced European.  

To Luca’s immense relief, Ilya said, “I do have people, I have… Someone.” It sounded as though he struggled to open up. Whether that was because he didn’t believe it, or because he never talked about it, Luca did not know. 

“Someone you never talk about. That must be lonely, too,” Luca said then, like an idiot. 

“Yes,” Ilya breathed. “You are right, that is a bit lonely.” 

“You could talk to someone, though,” Luca said. Ilya looked as though he was about to protest, but before he got anything out. “I mean, you could talk to a professional, a therapist.” He said it as carefully as possible, vividly remembering how against the idea his sister had been at first, protesting that she didn’t need to talk to anyone. 

They were quiet. Luca hoped the quiet meant that Ilya was thinking it over, rather than shooting it down. 

Luca didn’t speak up again, going back to his role of a quiet companion. He desperately wanted to ask about this someone that Ilya apparently had. But, of course, he didn’t. If his captain wanted to talk about it, he would. And if he didn’t, well, then Luca wouldn’t pressure him. 

～

Luca didn’t know if it was because he had shown Ilya genuine kindness, or if it was the comment about two lonely Europeans needing to stick together that had initiated the shift. But after the Halloween party, Ilya would seek Luca out. 

A week after the party, Ilya sideled up next to Luca just as he was about to enter the training facility. A Starbucks take-away cup was thrust into one of his hands. 

“Black coffee for Haasy,” he said, sending Luca a, slightly crazy, smile. 

On the cup, in black Sharpie, “Haasy” was written with a cheeky little smiley drawn next to it. The thought that Ilya must have specifically requested the smiley to be drawn put an indignant smile on Luca’s face. He almost felt like a fond older brother, which again made no fucking sense since he was nine years younger. 

Apropos nothing, except the elephant of their last one-on-one conversation hanging between them, Ilya said, “I started talking to a therapist, she is Russian, so is good for me.” 

A genuine sense of relief soared through Luca. This was good. “That’s amazing, Roz, truly.” 

Ilya seemed almost sheepish. “Well, your words helped push me over that edge. And, I want to be a good captain.” Luca was about to interrupt and say that Ilya was the best captain. But he didn’t get the chance before Ilya was talking again. “Most of all, I want to be a good boyfriend. And I do not think I was being that. Not really, anyway. I also do not want to be… well, my mother she.” Ilya paused to take a breath. “She struggled.” 

Luca only nodded; he tried not to be too fazed by the amount of Roz-related lore that had been dropped. 

“When my sister was diagnosed with depression, she was bad,” Luca was saying. He could feel Ilya look at him, but he didn’t look back. “She was already so far gone that we were all terrified for her safety, but therapy and medicine has helped her so much. She’s happy, and most days she hardly even struggles anymore.”

Ilya didn’t say anything; instead, only sipped on his coffee, seeming deep in thought. 

They walked all the way to the changing rooms without exchanging words. When Ilya still hadn’t said anything, Luca stopped them right outside the door. From inside, he could hear some of the guys talking loudly. 

Turning to look at his captain in his face, he said in a low voice. “I want that for you, too, Rozy.” 

Ilya looked at him with big eyes. Then, he smiled widely. 

And maybe it was curiosity that made Luca say what he said next, or maybe it was genuine concern. “And don’t think I didn’t catch the verified relationship status you let slip, Roz.” Ilya looked at him with comically wide eyes. “You know the team would fight for information on the elusive Ilya Rozanov’s personal life.”

Now, Ilya looked sceptical. “The team would fight for it, huh?” 

“Yeah, everyone is always talking about where you disappear to, I swear, there is even a betting pool going around.” Luca hadn’t heard about a betting pool, but he wouldn’t be surprised if there was one. 

“But, you wouldn’t?” 

Yes, he fucking would. This snippet of gossip was making him feel elated. But the rest of the conversation had dampened the joy of gossip. Luca only shrugged, acting nonchalant. “Eh, I don’t really care about what you do as long as we start winning some games.” 

Then he pushed the door to the locker room open and made his way inside, to the sound of Ilyas's loud bark of a laugh. 

～

By the time it was announced that Troy Barrett was joining the Centaurs, Luca had received a total of seventeen black coffees from Ilya. Luca wouldn’t call them friends; he didn’t know enough about Ilya for that, but they were friendly. He hoped they were getting there. 

When the eighteenth takeaway cup—Luca was seriously starting to worry about the climate effect, Ilya’s obsession with gifting him coffee every morning would single-handedly have— was presented to him along with the words: “Troy Fucking Barrett. Have you ever heard anything worse?”

“You’re so dramatic, Rozy,” Luca said with an eyeroll. “But no, I haven’t heard anything worse.” 

Ilya groaned as he slumped down on the cafeteria bench next to Luca  “Well, at least he’s a decent hockey player. Maybe I will finally get a decent Right Winger.” 

“You think he will make first line the first thing he does?” Luca couldn’t help but ask, even though the logical answer was that, yes, of course, he would. Troy Barrett might be infamous for his arseholery, but he was a damned good hockey player. 

“No,” Ilya said, shaking his head. “No, he will get second line, and you will get pushed up to first. And then I will have okay Right Winger.” 

Luca laughed and lightly shoved Ilya’s arm. “Yeah, right.” 

Ilya’s phone vibrated on the table. Luca saw the flash of the notification. 

Jane ❤️

Huh. 

He had known, logically, that Ilya had a girlfriend. Since the comment a few weeks before had confirmed as much. And Ilya had mentioned his relationship a few times since then. Only ever to Luca, and never with any gender specific pronouns.

It was stupid, but Luca had harboured a feeling that maybe, maybe, Ilya was a bit like he himself was. Not totally straight. It had been a stupid thought; it had been wishful thinking that his idol, captain, and sort of friend could be a mentor of sorts in this particular regard as well. He was aware of Ilya’s infamous reputation as a ladies’ man. 

The warm expression on Ilya’s face as he read the text message and typed out a quick reply made Luca forget the twinge of disappointment.  

“What does Jane want, hm?” he couldn’t help but tease. He was pretty sure that they had reached a teasing level of friendship. 

The look that Ilya sent him, a mix between deer-caught-in-headlights and Ilya’s I’m-about-to-chirp-you, had Luca convinced that they were at that level. 

“Jane is asking what your mother is doing tonight,” was the retort he received.

“Wow, a ‘your mother’ joke, you’re really showing your mental age, you know.” 

Ilya only waggled his eyebrows before turning his gaze back to his phone to type out a message. 

When he looked up again, his face was serious. “Anyway, Troy fucking Barrett.” 

“Maybe he isn’t that bad…” Luca tried to lay out an argument that Barrett might be misunderstood, a troubled soul, or something. The single, perfectly shaped, raised eyebrow that Ilya sent him made him trail off. “Yeah, I actually don’t know what to say to this.” 

“Is horrible news.” Ilya really looked frustrated. “I can’t have arseholes on my team! We are best team, we can’t have…” he seemed to search for the most appropriate word to describe Barrett. Luca could think of many, none of them nice, “...bigoted dickheads in our ranks!” 

Luca couldn’t help but agree. 

“Urgh, Wyatt agrees with me that this is terrible news,” Ilya groaned. 

“Hey!” Luca retorted, feeling indignant. “I also agree with you! I just don’t know him, so I don’t have anything to add, not like Hazy does.” 

Ilya hummed, apparently not convinced. 

“Whatever, dude,” he faux rolled his eyes. It was impossible to stop the smile that played on the edges of his lips at Ilya’s antics. “Hopefully, it isn’t as bad as you think it will be.” 

～

The day after, Troy Barrett was in the Centaurs locker room. But so was a dog. 

When Ilya hardly paid any attention to Troy, instead focusing all of his attention on the dog, Luca could see it as the intimidation move that it was. 

What Luca could also see was the way Barrett gulped and couldn’t take his eyes off Harris. 

Huh. 

Interesting. 

Later that evening, Luca decided to further the Befriending Quest by engaging in the activity that most effectively strengthened friendship bonds. Gossip. 

Luca: Was it just me, or could barrett just not stop staring at harris today? 

It was only a few minutes before his phone buzzed with a reply. 

Captain Roz: i saw, i thought it was just because he is dickhead who was uncomfortable bc harris is gay

Well, Luca had to admit that that explanation was plausible, albeit not as uplifting. 

Luca: i guess that could be true…

Luca: not as nice a thought tho 

Captain Roz: nono 

Captain Roz: harris could do better than barrett 

Luca: now, now, roz, what will jane say? 

For a moment, Luca was worried that he had taken that too far. The small dots that indicated Ilya was typing appeared and disappeared. A minute later, a reply came through. 

Captain Roz: jane agrees that harris can do better than barrett 

Feeling daring in the face of a successful gossip exchange with his captain, he presses just a little bit further. 

Luca: soooo 

Luca: when will you bring this jane around for us all to meet? 

Captain Roz: gooooodnight haasy 

As Luca was leaving training the following day, his phone buzzed with a text message. 

Captain Roz: barrett totally wants to bang harris

Luca could only laugh; he drove home with a smug smile on his face. 

～

Ilya’s prediction that Luca would get to play on the first line with him did, to Luca’s immense surprise, come true. 

Anyone with two eyes could tell that Troy had trouble adapting to life with the Cens, and that was the reason for his poor performance on the ice. That didn’t change the fact that Wiebe had to move him down to the second line for their game against Edmonton. 

Luca only felt a little sorry for the guy; he was too busy being extremely excited for himself. 

They lost the game, of course, they did. And Barrett even managed to get himself a game misconduct. But a month with the Cens had taught Luca that losing a game wasn’t the end of the world, even if it wasn’t particularly fun. Luca was happy with the game, though; he had assisted a goal and played Right Wing to Ilya. 

“We should celebrate,” Ilya said to Luca after the game. “The team, we should go out and grab drinks.”

Luca looked at his captain, stunned. “But we, we lost?” 

Ilya laughed and clapped Luca hard on the shoulder. “Yes, but it was still good game, no?” 

“Barrett literally got a game misconduct.” 

Ilya looked at him. 

“What is this!” Wyatt came over from his stall, still clad in his goalie pads, but no shirt. Luca did not check him out. “The captain wants to go out for drinks?” 

Bood, from across the room, shouted, “Who are you and what have you done with Roz?” 

“Yes, yes, you all think I am boring,” Ilya waved his hand. “You think I am old and most boring player. You are wrong. I am most fun and youngest player, you confuse me with Scott Hunter.” Ilya waved his hand around in the air. 

Luca wondered if Ilya's good attitude had anything to do with the weekend-long break they would have once they got back to Ottawa. 

During said weekend break, Bood organised one of his famous BBQs. Luca hadn’t been to many yet, having only been part of the team for a few months. But he instinctively knew that Ilya would not be there.

He was right. It didn’t bother him, though, since he was pretty sure that his captain would be spending this break with his Jane. 

What did happen, though, was that Troy Barrett arrived at the party together with Harris. 

“I am not the only one seeing this, am I?” Wyatt had joined Luca at the table laden with food. 

At first, Luca didn’t know what the man meant. Then, Wyatt inclined his head to the firepit where a bunch of the guys and their wives were sitting. Wyatt must have just come from there, since there was an empty space on the sofa next to his wife, Lisa. 

In chairs opposite each other, Barrett and Harris were sitting. They seemed to be looking at each other rather than fully participating in the conversation. 

So, Wyatt had seen it too. 

“Ah,” he said, scooping up some grilled vegetables on his plate. “Harris and Barrett? Yeah, Roz and I have been talking about that pretty much since Barret joined the roster.” 

Now it was Wyatt’s time to look at Luca. “You talked to Roz about Troy and Harris,” he said it like a statement, but it came off more like a question. 

Luca hummed. “Yes. I am befriending him. You know this. I told you.” 

“You literally did not.” Wyatt sounded almost offended, as though he should have been informed of this plan. 

“I didn’t?” This was news to Luca. Oh well. “Anyways, we’ve bonded over gossip and being superior Europeans.” 

He left Wyatt with that information before making his way to where the rest of the younger players were sitting to the side, in their own little circle. Luca had been making an effort to become friends with them as well. His sister had said that he needed friends his own age. 

While Holmberg was talking excitedly, Luca fished his phone out of his pocket.

Luca: troy and harris are totally shooting each other heart eyes, i swear everyone at this bbq can see it 

He put his phone away, suspecting that Roz wouldn’t open the message until later. He was no doubt busy with Jane.  

He refocused on the conversation between Holmberg and Young. LaPointe would usually be a part of these gatherings, and he was usually more subdued than the other two. Luca found himself missing his quiet smiles and only occasional jabs. 

“... No, no, you don’t get it, Young, see, I told her that she should come and visit. But I never thought that she actually would try and take me up on it!” Holmberg was saying indignantly, chugging away on his beer. 

Young was laughing so hard he was almost falling off his chair. “Well, you fucking idiot. If you told her to visit you in fucking Sweden over the summer, then you have put yourself in this situation all by yourself.” 

Holmberg was furrowing his eyebrows, as though this concept was impossible to grasp. 

“I went to Sweden one summer,” Luca added, the one contribution to this conversation that he had, not being able to relate or even understand the rest of it. “Fucking beautiful, man.” 

“Thank you!” Holmberg burst out, as though this proved his point. Luca was pretty sure that it just disproved whatever point he was trying to make. 

Young was still laughing. “Then you definitely shouldn’t be surprised she is asking you about coming this summer.” 

Holmberg was spluttering, grasping for words. 

“I’m going to grab another drink,” Luca said while he was standing up. 

Young and Holmberg nodded to acknowledge that they had heard what he said, but they didn’t ask for anything. Thankfully. 

He made his way back to the circle of older players and the beer fridge standing to the side. 

“... Hey!” Bood’s loud voice came from where he was sitting by the fire.

Luca froze, hand still on the fridge. What had he done? 

“How many is that, Haas?” Bood continues, using his Captain voice. As always, seamlessly stepping into the role when Ilya was not around. 

Luca let a silent curse echo through his head. “I don’t know. Five?” A normal person his age would have lied in a moment like this. But what could he say? Luca was an honest person, and he was not about to lie to Zane Boodram of all people. 

“Uh-uh, there’s iced tea in there. Drink that.” Luca rolled his eyes, but took the suggestion. At least Bood stocked the good kind. 

When he sat back by Holmberg and Young, they were still talking about some girl, or maybe this was another one. Luca couldn’t quite keep up. 

“... because sure, there aren’t that many good clubs around, but I met her in this one student favourite my brother goes to occasionally.” Holmberg was saying. 

Luca didn’t have enough interest in this conversation to muster up the energy to ask. Instead. He fished out his phone and shot off a new text to Ilya. 

Luca: bood made me switch to iced tea and now i have to listen to holmberg and young talk about their many girls as i slowly sober up… the pain is real

Young, however, had enough energy to ask. “Wait, why is your brother clubbing in Ottawa? Shouldn’t a brother of yours be in, like, I don’t know, Sweden?” 

Holmberg laughed, waving his hand. “The fucker loves me, apparently; he took an exchange year from his university to do a year here.” 

“Damn,” Young said, sounding impressed. “That almost makes me wish that my brother loved me as much.” 

Holmberg laughed. Luca wished that his sister could take a pause in her life back home to come and spend a year with him in Ottawa. 

He listened, half interested, to the conversation as it turned back to Holmberg’s night out with his brother and his friends. Apparently, that was when he had met a girl. A friend of his brother’s? Luca didn’t really catch that bit. He didn’t want to ask, since that would reveal he hadn’t been listening. 

He looked over to the fire pit, where the rest of the team were sitting with their wives. They seemed to be having fun; they talked like friends, laughing comfortably with each other. Only Barrett seemed to be a bit uncomfortable, but even he seemed to be warming up to the group. 

Luca sighed and turned his focus back to the guys, trying to get back into the conversation. 

It wasn’t until later that night, when Luca had made his way back to his apartment, that Ilya replied to his messages. 

Captain Roz: you are in pain? 

Captain Roz: you cannot send harris and troy gossip and not include pictures!!!!!!!!!!!!

～

“Do you like Canada?” Luca asked Ilya a week into December, and it was just the two of them in the training facilities gym. 

Ilya paused what he was doing and looked at Luca inquisitively. “Do you like Canada?” 

“I like Ottawa more than I thought I would, that is for sure,” Luca said. He was still pedalling on the training bike, but he looked over his shoulder at Ilya as he said this. “It reminds me of home in a way. But it does get lonely.” 

Ilya seemed to think this over in his head. “I understand. It does get lonely, for me too, sometimes. But the city loves both of us and everything we’re doing for their team!” Ilya said this last part jokingly. Luca suspected that it was meant to take away from the heaviness of the topic. 

“In a way,” Ilya continued, serious once again. “In a way, Boston was less lonely. But still, I am happier here.” 

“Because of Jane?” Luca tried to catch the question as it flew out of his mouth, but he was unsuccessful. He was dying to know, but he had promised himself not to pry. 

Ilya only smiled a fond little smile. “Yes, that is a big part of it. But also, this team is a better team than Boston.” 

Luca looked at him, both eyebrows raised. “All we do is lose.” 

“But still, the team is better. Better people on this team.”  

Luca’s heart warmed at the sweetness of that comment. “Aww, Roz, you actually like us, don’t you! Who knew you were an actual softie?!” When had he become so comfortable in this slightly odd friendship that he right out teased the older man? 

Ilya stared him down, “If anyone ever finds out, I will come for you, Haas.” He only held his serious look for a few minutes before losing composure, and he let a smile travel over his features. 

Luca’s phone dinged. 

Harris (social media): Hi Luca! Just wanted to let you know the photos from that photoshoot have made their way into the official Instagram post! Would be great if you could repost them! 

Luca groaned. He had somehow, almost, forgotten about the photoshoot he had done with Gen a few weeks back. 

“What is it?” Ilya asked from his position on the bench press. 

“Just some photos I shot with Gen a few weeks ago, making its way into the open and Harris wants me to repost them.” Luca was already tapping away on his phone, searching for the official Centaurs page. 

“Oh my god, I must see these,” Ilya was saying, and Luca felt dread crawl into his stomach at the delight in Ilya’s voice. 

The Instagram post had three pictures. And they weren’t too terrible. Gen had made him post for many more than this, and he was truly happy that some of the more ridiculous poses hadn’t made the cut. Small mercies. 

In all of them, he had his serious face on. He wasn’t wearing a helmet, even though he wore the rest of his gear. “We need to show off those blond curls, Luca! It’s an amazing selling point,” Gen had said when Luca had pointed this out. 

“Oh my, these are too cute!” Ilya exclaimed. 

“Shut up.” 

“Oh, the third one, you look like you would rather be anywhere else!” 

“I did want to be anywhere other than right there,” Luca said, cause it was true. “You are way too happy about this.” Luca scowled. 

“I feel like a proud father.” Ilya pretended to dab a tissue to his eyes. He was a ridiculous moron. 

Luca decided to ignore him. 

He couldn’t help but smile at the caption, though. “We love Luca Haas! Proud to call him a Centaur! @lucahaasoffcial #GoCentaurs.” He reposted it to his own Instagram story. 

Canada was nice. 

～

Luca was lying in his hotel room in New York, watching a rerun of Hell's Kitchen with Gordon Ramsey on TV when a message from Ilya came through. 

Captain Roz: just had very interesting conversation with troy 

The power of gossip in action once again. 

Captain Roz: took him to Kingfisher 

Captain Roz: i think it was his first time in gay bar 

Luca just stared at his screen as these messages came through. When the last one came through, he jolted back into himself and was struck with jealousy. 

Luca: you took troy barrett to a gay bar and you didn’t bring me? 

Captain Roz: you are not of drinking age in america 

Captain Roz: you are a baby 

Captain Roz: what captain would i be if i made you break law? 

Luca had to admit that Ilya had a point. 

Luca: urgh you’re right of course 

Luca: but damn, i would have loved to go hockey's most famous bar 

Luca: that happens to be a gay bar no less 

Captain Roz: you will have to make your first gay bar visit at Kingfisher when you have reached adulthood

Luca: ehhh rude! 

Luca: and bold of you to assume i haven’t been to a gay bar before, cap 

Luca regretted the text the second he pressed “send”. He had been thinking of coming out to Ilya, since they were friends now, but he hadn’t meant it to be quite like this. He hadn’t actually had a plan, but if he had, this is not how it would have gone. 

He tried not to panic as he stared at the dots appearing and disappearing on his screen. He tried to breathe in even breaths. You didn’t have to be gay to visit a gay bar; Ilya himself had just been at one! This was totally fine. 

Gordon Ramsey was screaming at some arrogant restaurant owner on TV. It was oddly calming. 

The text finally came through. 

Captain Roz: are you the second person to come out to me in one night? 

Captain Roz: this must be record

Wait, what? Luca just stared, not able to take it in. Second person? Did he mean Troy? He must, oh shit. He wasn’t the only queer guy on this team. That was a calming thought. 

Captain Roz: i suppose i should repeat conversation i had earlier tonight now too 

When no more texts came through, Luca was seriously worried that Ilya had walked into the street and been hit by a car or something. Then a knock on his door made him jump out of his skin. 

He hurriedly muted the TV and scrambled for the door. 

He opened it and found his captain. 

“Roz?” 

Ilya only smiled and slipped into the room. He threw a glance at the TV, where Gordon Ramsey was still screaming, only now the words couldn’t be heard. 

“Sorry, I will let you go back to,” he glanced at the TV and waved his hand, “this. I just want to finish our conversation. Best not to do so over text, yes.” 

Luca felt so confused. Why was he here? Was he about to scream at Luca? Did he want to warn Luca not to come out to anyone else? Was he going to be kicked off the team for this? 

Realistically, Luca knew that none of these scenarios was likely. Ilya hadn’t ever given the impression that he was a homophobe or anything like that. But Luca couldn’t stop the normal thoughts of dread and worst-case scenarios that entered his head. 

“Hey, hey,” Ilya said, his tone of voice completely changed. “Luca, please breathe, do not worry, you have nothing to panic over.” 

“I’m gay.” Luca choked on the words as he said them. He hadn’t said them very many times. He had come out to his family and a few friends from his life back in Zurich, but he had never said anything to anyone in hockey. Not even after Scott Hunter came out three years before had he ever had the balls to come out to a teammate. 

“Okay, Luca,” Ilya was saying, calmly and with warmth in his voice. “Thank you for telling me, and I won’t ever tell anyone, okay?” 

Luca let out a breath and gave a curt nod. 

“I’m bisexual, you know,” Ilya continued to say, matter-of-factly.

Luca’s head snapped up. In shock, he just stared at Ilya. Slowly, however, things started to come back to Luca. The suspicion he had had before the introduction of Jane. The thoughts he had harboured that maybe, maybe, his captain would be queer like himself, came back to him. 

“Huh,” Luca said. This had never happened to him. He hadn’t ever had a queer friend before. Never had anyone come out to him. He started to smile. Maybe it was true what they said: that queer people naturally gravitated towards each other. “Well, thank you for telling me, cap. And likewise, of course, I won’t tell anyone.” 

Luca could see the way Ilya relaxed a little, as though a weight had been lifted off him. This might have been the second time he had had this conversation today, whatever that meant, but he still seemed relieved to have talked about it. 

Luca knew how lonely it was to have to keep this secret. In all honesty, Luca had started to go insane at the fact that no one on this continent knew who he was. 

“When we are back in Canada, after Christmas, we will have to go to gay bar where you are adult.” Ilya was beaming. He slung an arm around Luca’s shoulders, squeezing a little. “Set you up with a hot Canadian man. Is true that Europeans like you and me are way better, but I can… vouch, that is the correct word I think, for Canadian gay men. I am in a committed relationship with one.” 

Now Luca felt as though his entire world was turned upside-down. “What?” he spluttered. “But I… I thought…” Luca tried to find words. “What about Jane?” he exclaimed. 

Ilya just winked at Luca, a cocky grin on his face. Then, he opened the door and slinked out into the hallway. 

Luca just stood there. He needed to sort through all these confusing new revelations. The thought of doing that made his head ache. He unmuted Gordon Ramsey.

He could think about all of this later. First, he needed to win tomorrow's game. 

～

The three days they had off for Christmas weren’t enough for Luca to go home to Zurich. Luca had never been more thankful for transatlantic FaceTime calls and Boodram's BBQs. 

He had spent most of Christmas Day with his phone plugged into the charger and his parents on a FaceTime call as they had carried their laptop around the festivities. He had spent many years away, playing for the Juniors in Switzerland, but he had never been away for Christmas. 

On Boxing Day, he was lying on his couch watching shitty reality television and lazily texting with Mia about her weekend. She had been at their parents' house, so he had talked with her briefly the day before. But this was for the family drama debrief. 

Mia: So, you have plans tonight, right? 

Mia: Would hate to think that you’re spending the ENTIRE day watching TV 

Luca: hm, have plans 

Luca: going to Bood’s tonight for a team thing

Mia: Aw look at you, socialising with your teammates 

Luca: shut your mouth, i am plenty sociable 

Mia was typing out her response when a notification appeared at the top of his screen. 

It was from Ilya, and it read: 

Captain Roz: i fucked up

Luca tapped the message quickly, which brought him to his text conversation with Ilya. They texted quite a lot, about both trivial stuff and team stuff. Luca was happy to say that he felt his quest to befriend Ilya had succeeded. 

Ilya sometimes even shared progress he’s made in therapy, though Luca was painfully aware that they probably didn’t talk about it enough. He didn’t want to push. 

Luca: what happened? 

Luca: are you okay? 

Captain Roz: i don’t know what i will do if i lose him

Luca was confused; he didn’t know what to say to this, and he didn’t know what it meant. The text was so out of context that it almost seemed delirious.

Luca: lose who? 

Luca: roz? 

Luca: lose who? 

Captain Roz: i think i fucked up 

This wasn’t good. The repetition was not good. Luca was starting to panic slightly. Flashes of his sister sitting on a bathroom floor, silent tears streaming as she just stared, unresponsive to his chorus of “Are you okay?” and “Mia, please talk to me.” 

Luca: i am coming over

He hadn’t been to Ilya’s house since the Halloween party, but he was pretty sure he remembered the way. As quickly as he could, he grabbed a coat, his car keys and started to drive. 

“Roz, open the door!” Luca was shouting at the door while ringing the doorbell. 

The door opened, and Luca almost fell inside. 

“You did not have to come,” Ilya was saying. His tone was flat; there was no emotion in it. It was so different from the Roz that Luca and the rest of the team had come to know; there was always emotion in everything he said, whether it was happiness, glee, or anger. 

One look at Ilya’s face, and Luca could see red eyes and a tight mouth. He looked as though he had been crying. 

“Oh, Roz,” Luca said, his own voice breaking with emotion. He felt brave, so he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him. “You are my friend, of course, I will come when you are sad. That is what friends do.” 

Luca released him and gave him a small smile. One that Ilya did not return, he was still showing no emotion on his face. 

“Will you let me in? You can tell me what happened,” Luca tried to sound reassuring. “Or we can just watch the latest game, and you don’t have to talk about it at all.” 

Ilya didn’t say anything, but he stepped to the side and let Luca walk into the house. 

“I think I would like to talk about it,” he said eventually. “I have no one to talk to about all of this, that is actually part of the argument, I…” he trailed off. Ilya was staring at a point over Luca’s head, and his face was so blank it screamed a lack of emotion. 

Luca sat down on the couch. He didn’t say anything; he just let the quiet of the room wrap around them. He hoped that it was encouraging and that the silence didn’t make Ilya freeze up. 

Ilya finally spoke. “I asked if he wanted to come to Bood’s tonight,” he said it so quietly that Luca almost missed it, but somehow the words still echoed through the room. 

“You mean,” Luca started to say, wanting to clarify. He didn’t want to misunderstand, and for the last few weeks, Luca hadn’t been sure which of his speculations and thoughts were true and which weren’t. “You mean… Jane?” 

Ilya nodded. “Yes, he, ehm, fuck why is this so hard?” His voice broke, and he sagged in his seat. He leaned his head against the back of the couch and covered his face with his hands. “Fuck.” 

“You don’t have to say anything,” Luca tried to be reassuring. “We can talk about something else, Ilya.” 

Ilya was already shaking his head. 

“No, I think I need to. My therapist keeps saying I need people in my life I can talk to.” Ilya let out a deep breath. “I usually talk to him about everything, but with this, I do not know how. I need to talk about him. I love him, I have given him all of me, and Luca, don’t get me wrong, I would do so again and again and in every universe. But I have given him all I have, and I can’t even tell anyone, no one even knows, no one—.” 

Ilya trailed off, sighing loudly. “No, that’s not true, people know. But they are all his people. If he leaves me, I lose them too.” 

The tone of Ilya’s voice conjured the image of paper-thin glass frozen in the moment before it cracks, right before it lies shattered on the ground.

It made Luca ache. It wasn’t a sound Ilya was supposed to make. 

“Do you think you are going to lose him?” Luca asked carefully, afraid this would finally shatter Ilya. 

“I don’t know. I— no. No, I don’t actually think so. He loves me, I know he does. I’m just in my head,” Ilya breathed out, voice shaking but not shattering. 

Luca thought about this for a moment, trying to find something that would push the conversation forward without pressing Ilya. 

“Can I ask what triggered this?” He finally asked. 

Ilya pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and sighed deeply. “I asked him to come to Bood’s tonight.” Right, he had said that. “And he didn’t want to, didn’t even want to come as my friend. Too risky.” 

Luca couldn’t understand why this would be risky unless this ‘Jane’ was also famous. He felt a familiar spark of curiosity. But he didn’t ask about it; he recognised that this definitely wasn’t the time. 

“It opened up to a bigger fight, I,” he stopped and seemed to swallow multiple times, as though trying to get rid of the thickness of building tears. “He doesn’t know that I have already chosen him over hockey. He doesn't know that I would choose him over everything.” 

Ilya looked skyward, turning his eyes up. Luca could see the gleam of tears at the edge of his eyes, still contained but threatening to spill over. 

“How does he not know?” his voice finally shattered. And Luca didn't know what to do. 

The question was obviously rhetorical. And Luca didn’t know the answer. He didn’t know this man at all, didn’t even know who he was, and knew nothing about the situation. He still answered. “I’m sure he knows, even if he isn’t showing.” Luca could hear how weak that argument sounded; it sounded empty, it sounded insincere. 

Ilya didn’t say anything for a while. They sat there for a while. Luca started to feel awkward; that was how long they sat there without uttering anything. 

Finally, Ilya said something so quietly that Luca didn’t catch it, having been too distracted by the silence to pick up on the sudden whisper. 

“Sorry,” Luca said sheepishly. “I missed that.” He winced at the awkwardness of it. He should have listened better. 

Ilya just turned his head, redirecting his eyes to look at Luca instead of the ceiling. 

To Luca’s big relief, a smile played over Ilya’s face. It was small and weak, and looked like it took a lot for him to produce, but it was a smile still.  

“You are right.” Words Luca had never thought would come out of Ilya’s mouth. 

And had this been any other time, Luca would have made a joke here. He would have made a joke about taking out his phone and having Ilya say the words again so Luca could record them. 

He didn’t, though. Instead, he smiled at Ilya softly, and he felt relieved that Ilya was feeling better than he had been when Luca arrived. 

“You should still come tonight, though,” Luca suggested. He didn’t like the idea of Ilya sitting in this big house all by himself. Especially not if he had planned on spending it with his boyfriend. 

Ilya looked hesitant. “I don’t know…” 

“I promise it will be fun,” Luca tried to reassure. “And if it is not, then you can go, and everyone will understand! I just don’t know if—, eh, well, I just don’t know if you should be all alone tonight.” 

Ilya was quiet for only a heartbeat this time, but his voice was still small when he spoke back up again. “But what if he comes back?” 

An outer force punched its way into Luca’s chest and clenched at his heart so tight it hurt. 

“Maybe you should write him a message,” Luca suggested. “Something short but that shows him you want to talk about this again— no, no,” he hurried to add when it looked like Ilya was about to interrupt. “No, not now, but when you are both feeling more… when you both have your thoughts more together.” 

Ilya nodded slowly. He was fiddling with the sleeve of his jumper as he fished his phone out of his pocket. He started to type, but then stopped, just staring at the screen. “I don’t know how to say. I don’t want him to worry, but I do not want to lie.” 

Luca understood this. This was most likely something that Ilya had been hearing in therapy as well. That he shouldn’t lie or conceal how he was feeling. 

“How about you write something like…” Luca thought over his choice of words. “Something about wanting to talk about what happened, and that you’re hurt by it, but didn’t want it to be a big fight? And mention that you’ll be going to Boods tonight? So he knows where you are if he comes back?...” 

Luca felt very out of his element. He was only twenty, goddammit! He had hardly ever had a serious relationship! 

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I’m not very good at this.” 

Ilya hummed; he was typing, though. “We are fish on land… Or something like that. Here, is this good, do you think? Is honest enough, yes?” 

He angled his phone so Luca could see the text message that had not been sent yet. He very deliberately did not look at any of the texts on the chat. He guessed that Ilya wouldn’t show his phone screen if anything damaging were on it. He still did not look. 

The words he did read, though, were: 

I know you will not see this before you are back in Montreal. I should not have brought it up, but I could not stop thinking about it. I am sorry. I know this is difficult for you, too. Please, can we talk about this more? I don’t like us not talking. I will be going to Bood’s tonight since I don’t want to be alone. I will miss you, but I understand. I love you. 

Oddly enough, the first thing that struck Luca was the use of proper capitalisation and punctuation in the message. Never before had Luca received a message from Ilya Rozanov where the correct words were capitalised. It registered with him as oddly sweet. It showed the emotion and the thoughtfulness put into the words. 

The second thing he noticed was how soft the words felt; they were sweet and filled with love. 

The third thing was the way the mention of Montreal sat with him. It made something in his mind itch. Huh. 

“That is great, Ilya.” Luca couldn’t help but think that he sounded patronising, which was laughable since Ilya was the older one and he was Luca’s captain. 

“Thank you, Luca. I’m sorry for taking over your Boxing Day.” Ilya’s accent came through thicker than it normally did, mixing with sheepishness. 

“Anytime, cap,” Luca smiled. “That’s what you do for friends.” 

～

Luca was amazed by the number of people who had made it to Bood’s that night. It was Christmas, and he had assumed that most people would be spending it with their family and that only those, like him, who had no family close by would be intruding on Bood’s own family time.

“Wyatt! You’re here!” Ilya shouted as soon as he stepped through the door, only half an hour after the set arrival time. “And Lisa! This is amazing, I did not think you would be here, I thought you were in Vancouver with your sister and her family!”

Ilya had either cheered up in the hours since Luca had reluctantly left his house, at Ilya’s adamant request that he needed to go get ready for the party, or he had done a very good job at putting on a mask. 

Luca hoped that it was the first. Maybe ‘Jane’ had reached out. He surely hoped so. 

“Wow,” Bood said from where he stood by the grill, in shorts, even though snow covered the garden. He was waving a pair of tongs around. “We see how it is, Rozy, you don’t love us the way you love Hazy.” The grill was on the patio, and some guests were inside the house while others huddled under blankets around the fire. 

Ilya laughed goodheartedly and patted Bood on the shoulder. “Well, I knew you were going to be here, Bood. That is why I come here, of course!” He sent Bood a cheeky wink, which made Bood let out a deep laugh. 

Ilya seemed fine, from where Luca was sitting with Holmberg, Young and LaPointe just inside the house. He was once again forcing himself to interact with the teammates his own age; they were going on about a girl again, and he guessed it was a different one this time. He just sat there, not really knowing what to do with this conversation. 

“Haasy!” Ilya shouted the words from where he was sitting by the fireplace outside. The sound travelled through the open door. 

Relieved by the interruption, Luca started to stand up. “I’ll, eh, go and see what the Cap wants.” He nodded his head in the direction of the patio. The guys looked up at him and nodded. “But, yeah, you’ll have to let me know how this story ends for sure,” he added, not wanting to sound rude. And he did actually really want to be closer to these guys. 

He made his way out the door and onto the patio. By the fireplace, all of them with blankets wrapped around them, some of the older guys were sitting around with their wives. 

All except Ilya, who was sitting in an armchair on his own, a blanket riding down his shoulders and showing off the Centaurs team hoodie. 

He made his way up to where Ilya was sitting. “What’s up, Roz?” he asked when he came close. 

Wyatt looked up from where he had been looking down at his wife, and Evan Dykstra glanced at him. He felt awkward. Having the attention of so many of his teammates at once. 

”You looked like you needed saving.” Ilya looked smug. And although his big head probably grew even bigger at the mere hint that he was perceptive enough to have picked up on Luca’s discomfort, Luca couldn’t help but agree.  

His shoulders relaxed. “Ah, yes, well,” he started to say. He looked around at the people sitting again. Both Wyatt and Dykstra had turned away, but Luca guessed they were still overhearing the conversation. “I, eh, well, I never know how to contribute to the conversations that they have, about you know, things I’m not very interested in.”

Ilya nodded as though he understood exactly what Luca was saying, and exactly why he hadn’t just said: “I don’t know how to talk about girls and sex with these guys because I’m gay”. 

No, Luca knew that the team would be good about it. He knew that even the younger guys would be. He still wasn’t planning on saying anything to anyone. Telling Ilya had exhausted all of his coming-out energy for the foreseeable future. 

Suddenly, Ilya was speaking. ”I can not relate, of course. When I was a rookie, I had many of these stories.” He said it in such a blasé way that Luca knew it was a joke. 

“But,” Ilya drew out the ‘u’ sound in a very comical way. Then, he lowered his voice to make sure that what he said next could only be heard by Luca. “You looked just like Shane always does when women are brought up.” 

Luca’s mind ground to a halt, not fully understanding what Ilya was saying.

”Shane? As in Shane Hollander?” he whispered, dumbfounded at the sudden appearance of Shane Hollander’s name in this conversation. 

“Yes, Shane as in Shane Hollander,” Ilya said, his eyes burning holes in Luca’s with his stare. 

Luca knew that Ilya was trying to say something to him. Luca’s brain felt muddled, being too tired and a bit tipsy. That is why it took him a few moments of turning Ilya’s words over in his head before the meaning behind them clicked in his mind.

Of course. Jane was Shane. Suddenly, it felt so fucking obvious. 

“Oh,” he said, carefully. “Well, thanks for saving me.” He smiled so widely at Ilya, hoping to convey the message that this didn’t bother him. 

He hadn’t played in this league long enough for the animosity of Shane Hollander as the rival to fully fester in him. He was, however, aware enough of the discourse within the league to know that this news could make the league implode. 

A wave of sympathy washed over him as he realised that Ilya must have been carrying this secret like a precious bomb. 

“You’re a good captain, Roz,” Luca said, maybe a little too loud for their conversation. He said it because he felt it, especially in this one moment. 

Ilya jerked at the words, looking at Luca with big eyes that flickered with confusion. “Because I saved you from boring conversation? Or because…” he trailed of but Luca knew what he meant. 

“Just, everything, you see us, all of us. That is a good captain. And, you’re a good friend.” 

Maybe Luca was laying it on a little thick. But he didn’t care, because at that moment, he felt how true these words were. And he felt that Ilya probably needed to hear them; he needed to know how true they were. 

Ilya didn’t seem to know what to say; he just stared at Luca in astonishment. 

Then, suddenly, from across the fire pit, Wyatt spoke up,  “The kid is right, Roz! You’re the best captain!”

Wyatt said this, revealing that he had, in fact, been listening in. Luca only hoped he didn’t have super hearing, and that Ilya’s and Shane’s secret was still, well, a secret. 

Murmurs of agreement sounded around the firepit. 

Bood even looked up from his place by the grill. “Wait, was there ever a discussion that he wasn’t?” he said with outrage. “Who? Tell me who.” 

Ilya awed in a mocking way. Luca knew him well enough by now to know that this was Ilya’s attempt to diverge away from emotions he wasn’t ready to face. “I did not know you loved me this much.” He pressed his hands to his heart and pretended to swoon. 

The jabs continued to fly around the patio, and they mixed with laughs. Luca only watched on. He felt warm in his entire body, and happiness flooded through him in a way he hadn’t truly felt since leaving home. 

He loved this team. He loved his teammates on and off the ice. And he wanted them to be his friends, not only his co-workers. 

“You look happy.” Ilya’s voice startled him; it pulled him from his thoughts and back into the present moment. 

Luca smiled. “Must be something with the air in Ottawa.” 

A twinge of sadness was visible on Ilya’s face, and Luca was again forced to wonder if Ilya had sorted things out with Shane Hollander. 

“Is this team,” Ilya finally said, as he forced a small, genuine smile onto his face. “Best team.” 

Luca could only nod in agreement. 

It was truly the best team. 

～ 

New Year's Eve 

Luca was squished into the middle seat of an Uber. As always, he cursed being both the youngest of the young players, as well as being a couple of inches shorter. 

Holmberg, who was the tallest out of them all, had been lucky enough to get the front seat next to the driver.

Luca leaned his head back against the seat. He already had somewhat of a buzz from the pre-drinks they had been having at Young’s apartment. 

He had promised himself, his sister, and Ilya that he would go out today and have fun with the young players on the team. 

He was going to have fun; this would be fun. 

Luca took a deep breath. Lifting his head from the backrest and tried to focus back in on the conversation happening in the car. 

“And you are sure there will be people there?” Young said out to the car. Luca hadn’t been listening to what had been said before, so he wasn’t sure who exactly the intended addressee was. 

“You can say girls, Young, we know you mean girls,” Luca found himself saying. He had been thinking it, but he must be drunker than he thought he was if he said it out loud. 

Young only laughed. “Well, I need someone to kiss at midnight, don’t I?” 

Holmberg, from his place up front, was the one to answer the previously asked question. 

“Yes, there are both people and girls at the club. Isak and his friends have been there a while already, he says it’s packed.” Holmberg was saying this as he looked down at his phone, fingers tapping as he wrote out a text. “Plus, the best club in Ottawa is guaranteed to be busy on New Year's.” 

Next to Luca, LaPointe murmured, “Only club in Ottawa.”

Luca couldn’t help but snort at that. 

When they got to the club, there was a tangle of limbs as they all filed out of the car. Since they were VIP guests, they didn’t have to stand in the long queue that had formed outside the club. Luca couldn’t help but feel both guilt and Schadenfreude at seeing the strangers standing huddled together in a queue, most of them in thin clothing more suited for actual clubbing rather than queuing. 

Holmberg just flashed their VIP tickets at the doorman with a smile and a ‘thank you’ and then waved for the others to follow him inside. It wasn’t often this side of Holmberg showed; he usually seemed to feel more shame and be just as awkward as Luca did at the idea of having VIP access. But Holmberg had been buzzing with happiness for the last few hours. 

Luca offered the doorman his own, hopefully tastefully apologetic, smile and ‘thank you, sir’. 

He immediately had to try not to trip in a pool of water formed by melted snow right at the entrance of the club. He preferred water when it was frozen; at least then he didn’t trip. 

Almost as soon as they had made it inside the club, the music almost deafened him. Luca could feel the base in his ribcage, and it took him a moment to gather himself again. He almost lost the rest of the guys as they expertly moved their way towards the bar. 

He could see the back of Young’s head, and he hurried to get to him before he lost his teammates for real. 

Manoeuvring through throngs of people was difficult, and Luca had to use his hockey agility to avoid bumping into everyone else. And when he finally made it to the bar where his teammates were standing, it was only thanks to his reflexes that he managed not to drop the pint that had been thrust into his hands by Holmberg. 

“This is amazing!” Holmberg shouted over the music, Young and LaPointe agreeing with him excitedly. 

Luca nodded his agreement, even though it definitely did not feel amazing. Someone was moving too close to his back, and he had to fight the instinct not flinch away. 

“Just need to find Isak and his friends, they should be here somewhere!” Holmberg looked down at the phone he held in one of his hands. “I’ve sent him a text letting him know we’re at the bar, it says that he’s read it so—,” Holmberg was saying, but then the sound of someone shouting interrupted him. 

“Oliver!” Holmberg whipped his head in the direction of the sound. 

Luca’s own eyes naturally followed the sound of the voice. It came from the ocean of people on the dance floor, but from whom, he could not tell. 

Then, as though he had been magically built from thin air, a man pushed his way out of the crowd and to the bar. 

Before Luca could manage to make sense of his sudden appearance, Holmberg and the man had their long arms around each other in a brotherly embrace. 

Ah, Luca thought. This must be the brother. 

A few moments later, the two of them separated, although Holmberg still had his arm around the other’s shoulder. And true enough, the next words to come out of Holmberg’s mouth were, “Isak, these are my friends and teammates. LaPointe, Young, and Haas.” He pointed to each of them as he said their names. “Guys, this is my brother Isak!” 

Luca looked up at Isak. Yes, up, because the man was almost as tall as his brother and likely close to 1.9 meters. And he was beautiful. 

Isak’s hair was darker than his brother’s and cut short in a buzz cut. His eyes were just as piercing and his jawline just as sharp. It hit Luca that, although they were not identical, the two of them must be twins. 

Isak was dressed in a simple white shirt that clung to his sweaty body. Luca didn’t have to glance over at Holmberg to remember that he was in a black one. Luca wondered if the two of them always dressed in contrasting colours, even subconsciously. 

What shocked Luca the most, however, was that along with the freckles on Isak’s cheekbones, glitter glimmered in the flickering lights of the club. 

Fuck. Luca needed to gather his wits. He took a long sip of his beer. 

Isak, to Luca’s great horror, smiled widely which showed off dimples. “Hi guys, Oliver talks about you all the time!” Isak was speaking in English, with a heavier accent than Oliver's.

Young was the one to answer him, which was good since Luca would not have been able to form sentences. “All Bergy does is talk about you, too!” 

Did he? Luca hadn’t known that. Maybe he should have done a better job at listening when his fellow teammates spoke. 

“Forget everything he has said to you,“ Isak was saying seriously. “All of it is probably lies!” 

Holmberg let out a loud sound that Luca assumed was a laugh. Isak looked at his brother with a raised eyebrow, “You good? That sounded like a donkey giving birth.” 

“You know what a donkey giving birth sounds like?” LaPointe was saying, looking at the interaction wide-eyed. 

Isak turned his eyes to look at LaPointe. Luca suddenly wished he would look at him with those blue eyes, a thought he had never had about Holmberg’s eyes. 

“Sounds like that,” he said, pointing his thumb at his brother. “Come on, guys, my friends are on the dance floor.” He indicated his head behind him to the sea of people who were moving in unison. Luca almost felt sick at the thought. “Let’s see if those bodies of yours can do anything other than skate!” 

Isak took off to where he had come from, and Holmberg immediately followed him. 

Luca took a few seconds to down his beer and leave the empty glass on the bartop. 

You can do this, Haasy; it is just dancing. 

But when Isak’s eyes found his on the dance floor, the glitter was almost as distracting as his eyes, and he dragged his eyes over Luca; it didn’t feel like dancing. It felt like so much more. 

It felt like a promise.