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Cliff entered the MLH a year after Ilya. They became fast friends which was a problem according to the rest of their team. Chirps were endless, them fucking around instead of being serious. It got so bad at a point that they had to be sat down in the coaches office and told to stop fucking around during practice.
When LeClaire came to be their coach it was a little more lax and they could get away with fucking around during practice again. They would make plans to go get drunk while having their morning skate before a game.
"You wanna go to The Royale tonight? We haven't gone in a bit." Cliff leaned over as they were waiting for their respective turn in the drill.
"Mm. Only if we win."
"Oh but the girls would be such a good consolation prize Rozy."
"Consolation prize? I know prize, but consolation?"
"It's like a prize you get after you fail. Help soften the blow." He took off starting his turn in the drill.
"Ahh utesheniye." Next thing he knows he's starting the drill as well.
Cliffs main reason for making Ilya go out tonight regardless of a win or not is he's been weird recently. Being freshly 20, he has no emotional maturity on how to deal with a friend having problems, he was also a hockey player. It's like rule 5 is don't talk about your emotions unless it's about being upset about losing out on a cup run, or the cup itself. Then there's Ilya, who's freshly 21, been clubbing for years, is Russian and a hockey player. More on the Russian is he grew up in the time of Russia churning out Olympians.
They were both not emotionally mature enough to talk about their feelings without a copious amount of alcohol, or being forced. So Cliff did the only thing he knows how to do. Get Rozanov drunk, and perhaps laid, that always seemed to help.
They got back in line after they got done, everyone was running the drill 3 times.
"Why do you want The Royale? You only go for women." Ilya sniffed.
Cliff laughed, Murphy their captain, shot them a look. "Look, I'm saying that one so you get laid. You've been different. Need to loosen up."
Ilya shrugged and didn't respond. Putting his focus into the drill for once. He felt a nudge at his shoulder.
"Come on Roz. What'd ya say?"
"Ok."
"Oh let's go Roz, you're not gonna regret this." Cliff pointed at him before shooting off to start the drill again.
By the time morning skate was over they were all in the locker room stripping getting ready to go back home for their respective pregame rituals. Ilya's couch was calling his name for a pregame nap.
"Marlow, Rozanov, come here a sec?" Murphy called over by the locker room door.
Ilya and Cliff looked at each other before walking over.
"Yeah cap?" Cliff put on a smile.
"You both can't be going clubbing man."
"Why not." Ilya crossed his arms.
"Marly is still underaged. Roz you're barely of age. If you get caught with a fake you're in deep shit Marlow."
"I haven't been caught yet." He shrugged. Murphy pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Having the both of you on the same team is the worst mistake the league made. You two feed off of your dumb ideas."
"Could be dumber. I am legal now. Not like last season." Ilya smirked.
"Not helping."
"Sorry cap."
"If you are to get drunk tonight. Just do it not at a club where there's a chance of trouble. You can club all you want when Marly is 21."
They nodded and walked away.
"So," Cliff started, "still want to go to The Royale?"
"I don't know."
"Oh come on man, when has he ever stopped us." He threw his hands up.
Ilya shrugged. "Now."
"Lame." He groaned.
"Can I still come over and drink then?"
"Yes. You sleep in extra room."
"Yes!" He clapped Ilya on the back. "This will be fun! We can play games and get drunk!"
It was almost imperceptible, hell it probably was but Ilya noticed it. He flinched when Cliff hit him on his back. He hasn't flinched when someone's touched him since at least this summer. It wasn't a good summer but he thought he got over it. Maybe that's why he's felt weird these past 2 weeks.
—————————————————————
The game was inconsequential with it being early in the season and against Columbus who had already been on a losing streak.
Spirits were high in the locker room everyone laughing and chirping each other about how they played. Ilya was trying to focus on just getting his gear off and wanting to go home. Sure he added in on the occasion but he stayed on the quieter side.
"The Royale is calling our names Roz. It could be good." Cliff sung the half, leaning into Ilya.
"Mm no, should listen to Murphy. We drink at my house."
"Ugh fine."
Ilya rolled his eyes. Murphys words were still in his head about if they got Marlow caught with his fake it could be some deep shit for him and he couldn't feel responsible for Cliff getting in trouble.
"You will be ok Marly. No need to get dick wet for the night."
"You are a menace Roz."
Ilya grabbed his stuff telling Cliff he'd see him at his house and got out of the locker room. He needed a moment before getting home and immediately having Cliff getting as drunk as he could. Maybe even have enough time for his brother's call to come through before Cliff showed up, if his brother even called. If Ilya even picked up.
Ilya got home without incident, no phone calls directed his way. He toed off his shoes and switched to his house slides in the entryway. Made his way over to the kitchen and took 2 shots of vodka. Though it was more like 2 giant swigs straight from the bottle, but who's watching. He grabbed out a few mixers and a cup for Cliff. He really didn't have much alcohol in his place. He's got Vodka and some beer he keeps around for if people come over for a party.
A few minutes later Cliff was at his door.
"Rozy! I stopped by the store and picked up some more!" He lifted up a bag.
"Take your shoes off."
"I know the rules, shoes off in your house."he kicked off his shoes and made his way to the kitchen.
"So my goal," he started taking the alcohol out of the bag. "Is to get very drunk, we have a day off, and I am going to spend it hungover." He clapped his hands together when the drinks were laid out.
There was some whisky, more vodka, fireball, and a thing of box wine. "Why wine?" Ilya made a face.
"Hey don't be mean to wine. You can get drunk off of wine very well."
"Why do you know?"
"My older sister told me, used to have wine nights in college."
Ilya just hummed and grabbed the vodka off the table and walked towards the living room. He could hear Cliff moving to open the fireball and heard the distinctive crack of a soda can being opened a moment later.
By the time Cliff made his way in holding a cup and the fireball in each hand Ilya had powered up Call of Duty.
"Aw man." Cliff plopped down onto the couch.
"What?"
"I suck at this game."
"Loser take shot?"
"What if we both take a shot."
"Why take a shot when I win?"
"To get drunk Rozy. To get drunk." He waived his drink in front of Ilya.
"I guess. But Russians don't get drunk."
"That's bullshit and you know it!" He laughed. "I've seen you drunk."
"Not true. Never been drunk." He crossed his arms.
"Well then, I suppose I have to get you drunk." Cliff pushed the vodka bottle closer to Ilya. Ilya grabbed it and took a very large drink. Cliff made a face watching it. "I don't know how you do that?"
"Marly, I've been drinking since I was 13, it does not bother me."
"You've been drinking since you were 13?" Shock was clear in his voice.
"Yes, yes, is not surprising."
"It's surprising to me, I at least waited till I got drafted."
Ilya shrugged. "Is not surprising for me."
Cliff snatched a controller off of the coffee table."Come on, let's play."
Things went back to being light weight, drinking, laughing. The occasional screaming at the tv, taking shots. About 2 hours in Cliff was 100% gone. Though Ilya seemed to be just as fine as he was in the beginning despite the bottle being nearly empty.
"How the hell are you not drunk." He slurred looking over at Ilya.
"Oh no, I am gone."
"You're kidding? You look fine?"
"Mm, no, very drunk." He leaned back on the couch.
"You look fine." Cliff mimicked Ilya's pose.
"If I move, I will throw up."
"Will you now?" Cliff cracked an eye open to peak at him.
"Mhm, da."
"I want to play a different game."
"What game."
"20 questions. It's not really a game, but it's fun to play drunk."
"How do you play?"
"You just ask 20 questions, the other person answers. Easy."
"Sounds like dopros, interrogation." Ilya waved his arm above him.
"I guess, but they can be funny."
"Ok, you start, can't think."
There was silence for a moment. They were both so drunk it was hard to come up with a question. Maybe Cliff should get some food, he kind of wanted to remember tonight if he was going to asking and getting asked questions. This was his fault though, he suggested all of this.
"Can I grab some food?"
Ilya raised his head from where it was to look at Cliff. His eyebrows raised as well.
"Is this game?"
"No, no, I just want food."
"Yes go get some. Bring some for me too."
Cliff stumbled for a moment before figuring out how his legs worked again and making it to the kitchen. He opened the fridge finding some chip dip. He rummaged around in the cabinets until he found chips. He started to walk back then froze. Normal drinks. He went back to the fridge and grabbed two cokes. Satisfied from what he found, he made his way back to where Ilya was.
"Here, catch!" He tossed one of the sodas over. It slammed straight into Ilya's stomach.
"Fuck! What was that for!" Cliff doubled over laughing.
"Man you really are drunk! You couldn't catch that?!" He could hear Ilya mumbling something in Russian under his breath.
"I found this." He held up the chips and dip. "Seems easy enough." He set them down on the coffee table.
Ilya sat up and grabbed a chip, swaying a bit.
"Ok, question 1, why did you start drinking at 13."
"Oh, this is not fun question. You said fun."
"I was curious, you can't say you started drinking at 13 and not tell me."
Ilya shrugged. "Ok, mama died when I was 12, next year started sneaking drinks."
"Oh, yeah not a fun question."
"Ok, you ever have job?"
"Nah, it's only been hockey. You."
"No job, is that number 2?"
Cliff shrugged, "sure why not. Let's see question 3, what is your favorite movie."
"See," Ilya pointed, "that is fun question! I like Wall-E, not many words, is nice. What's yours."
"My sister made me watch When Harry Met Sally and I unfortunately really like it."
"What is your biggest fear?"
"Whoah what happened to fun questions." Cliff threw his hands up.
"Bored."
"You got bored after jobs and favorite movie?"
Ilya nodded. He's drunk enough that he really doesn't care what the hell is about to be asked. Hell he might ask some stupid questions as well.
"Ok well, mine is death. What about you? Also death?"
Ilya had the audacity to laugh. "No, not death."
"Well then what is it?"
"Losing people." They sat quietly for a moment. "Too much?"
"No, no, it just makes sense. Is that why you wouldn't let me go to the club, cause of what Murphy said?"
"Does this count?"
"Sure. Wait? What question are we on?"
"Can we just say 5."
"Sure."
"Then maybe."
"Ok, next question, number 6?" Ilya nodded, "ok, if you couldn't play hockey, what would you do."
"I'd be police like my brother."
"You'd want to?"
"No, but it would happen." Cliff nodded, "what about you?"
"I'd like to be construction worker. I like using my hands."
"Too dumb to do anything else?"
"Fuck you man." He smacked Ilya on the shoulder.
"Do you think the rink has ghosts?" Ilya asked with complete seriousness in his voice.
"Are you fucking serious?" Cliff reached down to grab a sip of his coke.
"Da. I hear things."
"No it's not fucking haunted, you think it is!" Cliff was laughing again, coke coming out of his nose.
"I hear things Cliff."
"Sure you do bud, it's The Garden, it is not haunted."
"Fine then, what's your favorite animal."
"I like birds. The idea of flying sounds fun. You?"
"I like dogs. Always wanted dogs."
"Ooh, ooh, what was your first kiss like."
Ilya without thinking responded, "Which one?"
"What do you mean first one?"
"Girl or boy?"
"You've kissed a boy!"
"Have you not?"
Ilya was trying to play it off. Fully realizing he is talking to a man, who plays hockey, and hasn't previously mentioned being ok with people liking the same gender.
"No I haven't kissed a guy."
"Well." He grabbed the vodka bottle and took the final swig.
"Well now you gotta tell me man." He leaned in toward Ilya.
"Sveta was my first kiss. You know her, she comes around time to time. Second first kiss was coaches son. Back in Russia."
"Was it good?"
"No different than Svetlana."
"Have you ever... you know?"
"What, fucked a man?"
"Don't have to say it like that?"
"Why? We say that about girls."
Cliff opened and shut his mouth. "You're right."
"Yes, I've had sex with guys too. Still do."
"Like... like as of this year?"
"Mhm." Ah fuck it, he doesn't care anymore.
"Is it good?"
"I like it, but I also like women, so both. Why? Jealous?"
"No I'm not gay! Fuck that makes me sound bad doesn't it?"
"No."
"I'm not like, homophobic, my sister's a lesbian." Ilya nodded.
They sat quietly for a moment. Ilya debated breaking the silence but he couldn't bring himself to it.
"So next question, can we go to bed?"
Ilya looked up at Cliff, "but we didn't get through all 20?"
"I think we can call it good. It's nearing 3 am, we are drunk and you just admitted you also like guys." He pointed the bag of chips towards Ilya. While Ilya put his head in his hands.
"Don't remind me."
"Hey it's all good man, I don't care."
“Then yes, bed time.” He clapped his hands together and stood up, promptly swaying and holding his hands out to steady himself.
“Careful there, making me think you’ll throw up and die in your sleep.” Cliff said while standing up himself.
“Hah, don’t tempt me with good time.” He started walking away.
“The fuck does that mean Ilya.” He called after him.
“Oh used my name. Must be bad joke.”
“Yeah it’s a bad joke, don’t joke about that.”
“Yes, yes,” he waved Cliff off and continued his walk, “see you in morning.”
Cliff watched him walk away and stood there waiting until he heard Ilya’s door shut.
Well, now he really hopes he sobered up enough to remember all of the night. Reason one, Ilya’s mom is dead, he didn’t know that. Reason two, Ilya has fucked men. And reason three, he joked, maybe, about dying. What a way to end the night.
Marlow was tired himself at nearly 3am so he grabbed the chip dip shoved it back into the fridge and shuffled his way to the guest room. As soon as he shut the door behind him he jumped onto the bed and passed out.
—————————————————————
Ilya woke up, much to his slight dismay, to sunlight shinning into his eyes. He groaned and rolled over grabbing his phone. The time read 11:30am and he had an unread text from Shane.
Jane: I saw your goal, it was clean.
Ilya: Stalking me now?
He turned off his phone and literally rolled out of bed, knees hitting the floor. He pulled himself upright using the bed, he didn’t want to leave the room to see what disarray was left in the living room. He took a breath and walked out.
Ilya was pleasantly surprised that all that was on the coffee table was the chips and the empty containers of alcohol with 2 soda cans. Great, easy to clean. He could remember some of the night. The middle is a little fuzzy, but he remembers starting 20 questions, but he doesn’t really remember finishing the said game.
He made it over to the kitchen and made himself a bowl of cereal when he heard the guest room door open. He watched Cliff stumble into the kitchen.
“Morning.”
“Fuck!” Cliff slightly jumped up into the air, clearly not realizing Ilya was there.
“Did you not see me?” Ilya was laughing.
“No! I thought you’d still be asleep!”
“I did say, Russians do not get drunk.”
“Oh trust me, you were drunk. What to you remember?” He started making his own bowl of cereal.
“Well, I know we started the questions.”
“Do you remember telling me you’ve had sex with dudes.” Ilya’s spoon froze halfway to his mouth. “I take that as a no.”
“And you are?” Ilya didn’t want to say it out loud.
“Yeah man, I’m good with it, can’t believe I hadn’t told you my sister is a lesbian.”
Ilya let out a breath he barely knew he was holding in. “You won’t tell the team?”
“No I won’t tell the team. I’m not an idiot.” They both knew hockey was as tolerable as other sports.
“Did we finish the game?”
“No I kinda stopped it after that revelation.”
“Any other things I should know?” Ilya stood up to put the bowl in his sink.
“Oh nothing, just you making a death joke.”
“Marly, who doesn’t make death jokes.”
“That was the first time I’ve heard you make one.”
“Really? I make them a lot.”
“Name one time.”
They stared at each other for a moment. The silence interrupted by Ilya’s phone buzzing on the table. Cliff looked down at it.
“Who’s Jane?”
“No one.”
“Why’d she say ‘I’m not stalking you.’ That sounds like a stalker thing to say.”
Ilya let out a soft laugh “I made a joke. Said she watched the game last night, I called her stalker.”
“Ah. So you like her?”
“Marly.”
“Sorry, sorry, I’ll stop pushing.” He paused for a moment. “So, she hot?”
“Holy shit Marly, let it go.”
“Damn, ok. Do you need help cleaning up?”
“No, is ok, you can leave when you want.”
Ilya moved around cleaning up, finding a home for the left over alcohol, making sure nothing was hidden around in the living room. Making sure that nothing was broken. Cliff did clean up a little bit, purely by putting his bowl away into the dishwasher.
About 40 minutes later Cliff had gathered his stuff and left after saying goodbye. Telling Ilya that he can call whenever, or tell him whatever. Did Cliff manage to get Ilya laid, no, but did he seem lighter, yes. Maybe it was that Jane girl, he’ll have to keep up on that.