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Even though he had helped organize this event, Kip had to blink a few times when the Kingfisher slowly but surely filled with very straight hockey players.
He was surprised so many showed up, although most of them were Scott's teammates who'd visited before anyway. They could have expected only those guys would show up. There was, he understood, a difference between giving a random coworker a thumbs up after he came out on national television, and going to an actual gay bar with him. For one, homophobia was layered, but Kip also wouldn't want to hang out with Gavin from work on his free night.
Kip was keeping his distance a little, watching from a seat in the corner. He'd politely introduced himself to everyone, trying to not look too intimidated; they had come along to a gay bar so they probably wouldn't start throwing around slurs, but he still felt nervous. He excused himself when the conversation turned inevitably to pure hockey and the next season. Scott could handle that on his own.
He took a sip of his drink - a funky cocktail Kyle had called the Scott Hunter, one night only - and let his gaze wander around the room. This entire evening had the vibe of one of those sappy coming-of-age movies, where in the end the jocks joined the queer coded theater kids for their performance and world peace seemed right around the corner. Reality had not always treated Kip as kindly, but so far most of Scott's teammates had been kind and accepting of both of them. For now that was enough. They could only hope other players would follow.
At least one of them was already on the right track, to pretty much everyone else's confusion. Ilya Rozanov was neither part of the Admirals nor known for his particular liking of Scott, so when the group of players entered the bar Kip had shot Scott a puzzled look. His boyfriend had stared back with an equal amount of bewilderment.
So, now Rozanov was leaning on the counter as he ordered himself a drink, gesturing to the large blackboard menu behind the bar. Kyle was talking to him in his typical flirty fashion as he started on the drink; to Kip's surprise, Rozanov just smirked as he occasionally chimed in. He didn't look uneasy about the attention at all.
Kip didn't know that much about Rozanov, except for the complaints Scott uttered after every match against Boston, and the fact that the man liked to party - so it shouldn't be that weird he looked so comfortable in a bar. But lots of hockey players liked going out, and Kip had never seen one this relaxed in the Kingfisher.
Just as he started to wonder why Rozanov might look this at ease, the man accepted his drink and turned around. His wandering gaze landed on Kip and as recognition sparked in his eyes, he started to make his way across the bar.
Kip felt his grip tighten around his glass as a pang of nerves shot through him. He read the news; he was aware of Russia's stance on queer people. Of course this man wasn't his country - it would be hypocritical of Kip to think that when that fuck was currently his own president - but he was still a bit wary as he watched the man come over. He couldn't quite remember if Scott had ever mentioned Rozanov throwing around homophobic slurs - the man was supposed to be annoying, yes, but was he also a bigot? Or just a bit of an asshole? He was here and had just allowed Kyle to shamelessly flirt with him, so he couldn't be that bad, could he?
Rozanov came to a halt right in front of him and sat down in the other free chair. For a second, he was quiet. Then, "You are Kip, yes?" he said, with a voice that sounded kinder than Kip expected. "Hunter's boyfriend?"
Kip nodded. After so long of keeping their relationship a secret, being viewed as completely interwoven with Scott was a breath of fresh air. Rozanov using the word boyfriend felt even nicer. A lot of people seemed to awkwardly settle on partner; although Kip didn't necessarily mind the term, from some of them it felt like a cop out to avoid the gay part of it.
"I am Ilya."
"Rozanov," he added.
Rozanov - Ilya? - grinned. "Ah, you know me!"
Even if Kip didn't have a whole archive of heated speeches about how annoying the Boston captain was, he would probably recognize him. He had a nice face, gave a bunch of interviews without a shirt on - so yeah, Kip knew who he was. Out of loyalty to Scott, he kept it to a nonchalant, "Heard of you, yeah."
"Yes, I am hard to forget." Rozanov winked as he raised his glass to his lips.
Ah, so this was the ego Scott had complained about. Although it didn't feel that much like boasting - there was a twinkle in Rozanov's eye and Kip wondered if he was making as much fun of himself as of Kip. "Apparently that makes two of us."
"You kissed the first out hockey player in the NHL on national television. I think I might have seen you on the news? Maybe, very shortly? I am not sure though."
Kip laughed.
"Was very dramatic," Rozanov continued, but there was no venom in it, no actual judgment.
"Sometimes a little drama is necessary."
"Hmm, I think you're right." Ilya plucked the little rainbow umbrella out of his glass and rolled it between his fingers, eyes glassy as if his thoughts were far away. He'd gone for the bisexual special - Kyle had spent a long time trying to get the flag right, but the colors were still a bit messy. It looked cool nevertheless. Flashy.
After a long but not uncomfortable silence, Ilya looked back at Kip. His stare was very direct. "I already told Hunter- Scott," he amended with a quirk of his eyebrow, "but it was very important, what you did. Brave."
"Kissing your partner shouldn't be something brave."
"No," Ilya said, and suddenly he seemed almost sad, "it shouldn't."
There was a question burning on his tongue, but Kip was not (yet) drunk enough to be impolite and ask. So instead, when Ilya kept silently staring at his messy bisexual cocktail, his customer service instincts kicked in and he asked, "Are you enjoying your drink?"
"Yes," he nodded, carefully placing the umbrella back in the glass. "It's very nice."
"It's the bisexual flag," he pointed out, unsure of what he was prodding at but prodding nonetheless.
"I know. It's a very good flag." He smirked and took another drink. "Nice colors."
Interesting, Kip thought. Before he could try to subtly gather more information, Ilya said, "I'm glad I came. It's a nice bar." His fingers tapped against his sweating glass, spreading the condense.
"It is," Kip agreed. And then, because talking to Ilya Rozanov was way more pleasant than expected and against all odds he felt at ease with the man, he said, "I, uh, actually should be helping Kyle behind the bar, but I think he's got it for now."
Ilya glanced over his shoulder at the bar, where Kyle was currently flirting with a slightly confused looking Eric Bennett. "You work here?"
"Yeah. But it hasn't been long, I started last month. And I'm also not working full-time, because I'm going back to college this fall, and…" He fell silent when he realized he was rambling. "Sorry," he said with an awkward laugh. "What I meant was: yes, I work here."
"No sorry," Ilya said to his surprise. "I asked. What are you studying?"
"I already have my degree in history, but now I'm going back for my masters. History as well."
For some reason, that made Rozanov smile so wide that Kip was afraid his head was going to split in two. "You are a historian?"
"Non practicing, right now, but yeah."
Ilya nodded. "That is very good."
"Uh," he said, unsure of what that meant, "thanks?"
"What history are you interested in? I am guessing you like very old things. You do not look like a World War two guy."
That made Kip laugh. "No, not really. Well, actually, I've studied that war as well, so I do find it interesting. But not in the, like, tanks and guns and Nazis kind of way." Kip hesitated for a second, because there was no way this giant Russian hockey player was actually interested in the subject of his research.
Ilya stared at him with expectantly raised eyebrows. "I have had many concussions in my life, but I am still capable of thinking. Go on."
Alright then. "I like social history more than military stuff," he explained, "but my thesis was a mixture of both. It was about queer people getting drafted in the US in the recent past, and that did include the Second World War, among other wars. It was a comparative study, so I wanted to see how attitudes and experiences changed over a span of like, fifty years. So, a lot of the research was discourse analysis, which…" He made a face. "Which is pretty specific jargon. I'm sorry, I got carried away."
"No, is interesting. Although I don't know that - analysis." The word came out a bit clunky and Ilya frowned.
"Critical discourse analysis. It's like…" He hesitated, taking a small sip of his drink while he tried to figure out how to explain it. He'd used the method so often that it was second nature, and when he discussed this with other people in the field they obviously knew what it entailed, so now it was hard to find the correct words.
"You read a text or a speech or whatever, and you look at the words the author used. Those are rarely neutral, you know? There's often a certain connotation, or something to be said about the person because of their choice of words, or the society they're living in, or the audience they're speaking to."
Ilya nodded.
"And people use metaphors and rhetorical language, and they reference other people and other texts, and all of that is interesting, because it adds layers that you can peel away to try and understand." He sipped his drink again, his mouth a little dry from talking. "And then," he continued, noticing he was getting a bit too excited to maintain an even slightly nonchalant facade but unable to stop, "you can also have a look at what's not being said. Often, that tells you just as much as what's actually being said."
"I can imagine," Ilya said. "Elephant in the room, yes?"
"Sometimes, yeah. Sometimes people just refuse to acknowledge certain things."
"That's true," he said softly, a pensive look on his face.
Kip desperately wanted to ask what that expression meant, why he suddenly seemed so serious - what did Ilya Rozanov refuse to acknowledge? - but he had still not consumed enough alcohol for his manners to dissolve. So instead he just asked, "Are you interested in history?"
Ilya shrugged. "I do not often get the chance to talk to someone about something else than hockey. Also, most people I talk to have had many pucks to the head, so they're not even that great at talking about hockey. History sounds very interesting."
He couldn't stop himself from grinning. "Yeah, it is."
"Did you always want to study that? Or did you ever think of going into something else, like…" He scowled at his drink, hand gesturing as if he could pluck the word out of the air. In the end he made some kind of elaborate scooping motion and said, "Digging up things?"
"Archaeology?" Kip offered.
"Yes."
"No, not really. Too old, for my taste." He had some friends from college who had gone into archaeology and they all loved it. Although Kip could appreciate a nice artifact, the whole ordeal always seemed… a lot. Even more dusty than the archive he spent hours and hours in to find his sources.
Ilya's lips twitched. "I was going to ask if you like dinosaurs, but that's then probably also a no."
"Not to study, no."
"Hmm. So no fossil guy?"
"Not particularly."
He hummed again. "Surprising."
Kip didn't understand why that would surprise him - did something about him scream he had a fossil collection? He used to have some stones he'd picked up on hikes stored away in a shoebox, but that was more than a decade ago. "What about you?"
Ilya raised one questioning eyebrow.
"What did you want to study?"
"Well," he said, an amused smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, "I got drafted at eighteen, so…"
"Oh. Right." That made sense. He vaguely remembered Ilya getting drafted, specifically because they were the same age and Kip was just starting college and already neck deep in debt. It had been a slightly bitter damn, so that's what I could've been doing with my life moment, but he'd never been one to hold grudges.
Also, he couldn't skate for shit, so he definitely could not have been doing that.
Just as he was considering if he should explain critical discourse analysis some more, since Ilya seemed to find it interesting and Kip had read enough articles he could give a two hour presentation on the topic, Scott emerged behind Ilya, eyeing him warily as he sat down next to Kip.
"Everything okay here?" he asked, voice neutral, but his eyes danced nervously between the two of them.
"Everything's great," Kip reassured him. "I was just talking to Ilya. About my studies, actually."
"Oh. Talking to… Ilya." He looked slightly alarmed that they were on a first name basis already.
Ilya grinned. "Yes, that's my name, Hunter. Did you forget?"
"I know what your name is, Rozanov."
Kip took a final sip of his drink, hiding his smile behind the glass. He'd only talked to Ilya for a few minutes, but to his surprise he liked the guy, and watching him chirp Scott in an almost fond way was kind of funny.
(Not that he would admit that any time soon. He was a good boyfriend like that.)
"Good to know. You can stop looking suspicious. I am not here to be mean to your boyfriend, if that's what you're worried about."
"You have a tendency to be mean to anyone. Pardon my assumption."
"Yes, but I'm not a homophobe." Ilya sounded appalled at the suggestion alone.
"A win is a win," Scott mumbled, and Kip chuckled.
"I was actually enjoying talking to him." Ilya nodded acknowledgement in his direction. "Before you showed up like knight in shining armor. Your boyfriend is very smart and interesting. Very surprising that you're together."
Scott rolled his eyes. "Okay, Rozanov."
"He's also very young," Ilya continued, that mischievous twinkle back in his eyes.
"He's the same age as you," Scott countered, frowning.
His grin grew wider. "Yes, as I said. So very young."
Kip laughed and shrugged when Scott shot him a scandalized look. He walked right into that one.
"Alright." Scott sighed, leaning against him. "I'm sorry for interrupting your cozy chat. Please continue."
"No, I should go," Ilya said as pushed his chair back, "but I had a fun night." He picked up his drink and emptied the glass in one big swig. "It was nice meeting you, Kip."
"It was nice meeting you too, Ilya."
"If you ever want to watch some good hockey, you know where to find me."
"Fuck you, Rozanov," Scott said, but it sounded more like a habit than a real reprimand. "You Bears didn't win the Cup, did you?"
"No, not his year," Ilya admitted. His expression turned more serious then and his fingers tapped on the table a few times before he spoke again. "I think I said it before, but you did a good thing, Hunter. Important."
Scott was staring at him, a puzzled look on his face, but he replied, "Thanks, Rozanov."
Ilya nodded once and walked away, making a stop at the bar to drop off his glass and say something to Kyle, who laughed. Then he headed out, the bell jingling when the door closed behind him.
"You sure it was fine?" Scott asked as soon as Ilya was no longer within hearing distance. "He wasn't a dick to you? Because I will punch him in the face if he was, just give me the word."
Kip laughed. "No, he was actually kind of nice," he said. "Seemed interested in history. Or me studying history, at least."
Scott nodded his head a few times, seemingly reassured, but then he groaned and covered his face. "Oh, fuck. He was calling me old," he mumbled, almost completely incomprehensible through his fingers.
"What? No, he didn't, we barely talked about-" He cut himself off. "Wait, didn't you once say he calls you a dinosaur?"
"Yeah," came from behind his hands. "Last game he made T-Rex noises at me every face-off."
"I don't think we know what a T-Rex sound like."
"It was obvious what he meant."
Kip had to swallow down a laugh. "Well, it explains why he asked me about fossils."
Scott groaned again, working his hands through his hair. Kip reached out to gently fix the mess. Being able to do that in public was addictive, so he gave one strand a soft pull. Scott smiled.
"It was kind that he came over, at least."
Scott sighed. "Yeah. I guess it was." He stared at the remaining group of hockey players, all gathered around one of the pool tables.
"Do you," he started, and then he hesitated, unsure how to phrase the question. "Do you think he was here for, like, other reasons? Than just show support?"
"You mean if he's gay?"
Kip shrugged. "Or queer or something."
"No way," Scott huffed, the thought apparently comical. "If Rozanov is gay, or - or queer, then I'm… I don't know. Captain America."
"Hmm. You'd look good in that suit," Kip mused, because God, could you imagine those muscles in those tight clothes? If the way Scott's abs were visible through his Under Armour was an indication, Kip would probably die if he dressed up as the character. Totally worth it, though. "Halloween costume settled then?"
Scott laughed and leaned in for a kiss, and Kip decided Ilya Rozanov's slightly queer vibes were not that important. He was probably imagining things anyway.