i wrote a story.
i love clichés! doesn't everyone?
break the rules already
sidney crosby/evgeni malkin
pittsburgh penguins
how it was one
Sid's actually pretty excited about Evgeni Malkin coming to the Penguins; he knows about Malkin, he was drafted before Sid, even, and he's big and fast and scores like a bajillion goals for his team in Manitogorsk, and he's probably going on the line with him, so. He's kinda looking forward to his arrival. Mario's been talking about it a lot. Something about himself and Jagr twenty years ago, and seriously, how is Jagr still playing (like Mario didn't just retire again six months ago and like Sid doesn't think he's gonna play forever), so sometimes Sid thinks about that instead of what Mario's saying about Malkin, but anyway, he looks pretty intense, and, well. Sid knows about that.
The Pens aren't super heavy on Russians, but Gonch is there to teach him how to say hello in Malkin's native tongue at his their first practice together, and when Sid butchers Evgeni, the asshole laughs and pokes Malkin's arm, says something Sid obviously can't understand, and Malkin smiles. "Geno."
Okay. That's easier anyway.
"Geno it is. Sidney. Pretty sure you're gonna be great with us."
Gonch rolls his eyes and says, "Think he probably know who you are," but introduces Sidney anyway. Geno shakes his hand and shrugs a shoulder towards the door.
"Yep. Let's skate."
--
Being that their job is a sport, some of the first English Geno learns of course is actual locker room talk, and it feels like it isn't long at all before he's chirping along with the rest of them. Sid's a favorite target for everyone, and he's used to that, accepts it easily (his lips have always looked like this, okay, and his ass got this big pretty early, whatever, his thighs match, he isn't weird) and picks up his own points for zingers along the way.
They're talking about heading to a bar after a February home shutout against Washington during a six win streak (pretty much the best of circumstances) when Geno stops rubbing a towel over his hair and fixes a wide grin on Sid.
"Sid. Whole life hockey star. Must …bang all women!" He sounds pretty convinced, but there's a twinkle in his eye that might say differently.
To say the locker room erupts in laughter would be putting it just a bit mildly, really sad for a minute that the decibel meter is out in the arena. Staalsy, who is a rookie anyway, like who's listening, hoots out a "yeeeeah, Sid!" like the farm boy he is and falls off his bench. Geno looks kind of confused, awww, Sid's a little touched that he meant it.
"Gonch? A little help?"
Sergei manages to pull himself upright and walks over to where Sid's trying to explain about hockey, and women, and hockey. He says a few words to Geno, not enough so that Sid's entirely comfortable that Gonch has made his point about hockey and women, and hockey. Geno's eyes go a little wide, and whatever, Sid is only nineteen, it's really not a big deal. But he blushes anyway, high spots of color, and states fairly calmly that he gets by just fine, thanks.
And that seems to be that.
Except Sid waits everyone out before shrugging on his coat and bag, and he almost screams like a tiny child when there's someone lurking outside the door. And. Of course.
"Jesus, Geno, you scared the shit out of me." Sid thinks his face must convey what he means, and Geno's English is getting better all the time, because Geno looks just the tiniest bit chagrined and shrugs a sorry before managing to smile and look pretty intense at once, Sid is impressed.
"Um. Before. Problem?"
Sid owns the Rosetta Stone for Russian, he bought it two weeks ago, but they've been winning and playing and winning and he just hasn't had the time yet. He really, really wishes he'd made it his travel music now. It takes a lot of words to describe dedication and distractions, but he figures Geno probably gets both of those things.
"It's just that…hockey comes first. No distractions." There, that's simple enough.
Geno looks curious now. "So. Never?"
Sid is pretty sure there aren't any fault lines or sink holes under the Igloo that will open up and swallow him, so might as well go ahead and have this conversation. It isn't the first time.
"Look, I've gotten off with other people, okay. I just…don't, so. No." Sid's chin is up and jaw set. "Never."
Something flickers across Geno's face, darkens his eyes and purses his lips for just a moment before he quirks up one corner of his mouth and steps sort of very close to Sid, puts a hand on his shoulder. "Can help you, yes because not get laid is distraction, and am not distraction. Am hockey."
And, huh. Well, that's certainly true.
"That's…true." And now Geno is like, incredibly close, and Sid's, yep, he's definitely okay with that, and they are in a brightly lit hallway in front of - no one at the moment, but that's really not the point, but also as the point is that he doesn't care, he closes the gap and says "Okay" against Geno's very carefully seductive and kind of stupid smile.
Okay.
But then Geno's grabbing his wrist and dragging him down the hall, and Sid's sort of bumping into his bag, "I mean, tonight?"
Geno doesn't stop and throws an actually perfectly careless "Why we not?" over his shoulder before continuing a few feet and then stopping. He looks…really patient, actually, and Sid likes that. Kind of unexpected. His eyes are dark again, and Sid gets lost in them again long enough to miss it the first time Geno says, "No? Is okay."
"No." Geno drops his wrist, and wait, what, wait, that's not what Sid meant. "I mean yes. No, it's okay, yes, let's go."
Sid probably would have looked confused if he were Geno, but to his credit, Geno doesn't. He just confirms, "Okay?"
He's lost somewhere in Geno's eyes again, but Sid manages a "Yep" and walks quickly beside Geno down the hall. Geno doesn't drop his wrist.
Geno's kind of gentleman or whatever, he puts Sid's bag in the back along side his own and okay, then he opens Sid's door, and Sid finally laughs as he climbs in, full and whole, head tilted back and all. Geno looks…well, impish is really the only right word for it, and he rolls his eyes before starting the car.
They're three turns into the drive when Sid realizes they're not headed to his or Geno's, but he's pretty sure he's not being abducted, and they're at the bar pretty soon anyway. He's only a little surprised and makes a questioning noise while he fiddles with his seatbelt.
"Figure show you good time first."
"You gonna get my door for me?" Sid gestures with a snicker.
And Geno does.
It's exactly like every other night they go out with the team, except for the part where Sid gets more than tipsy (for Sid, he's just. kind of nervous, and somehow his perfectly innocent sodas stop being just that), and sometimes Geno's hand is on his knee, and sometimes his arm is around his shoulder, and his smile is always in his face, but definitely the part where it's loud and full of laughter and someone picking up two chicks, someone picking up no chicks, and someone getting a drink in their face. No names, everyone already knows who.
Sid tunes into Geno having a serious (maybe? he's not sure) conversation with Flower at the part where Geno's saying "-take Sid home. Little drunk." Not serious, then, just obvious. Flower waves a hand in their general direction, and Geno gives Sid a little push out of the booth, grin as wide as it's been all night. "Out, out. Take you home now."
Awesome. Sid feels buzzed and great and he's so stoked to go home. This is when bed feels best.
Only one turn this time. "We're going to your place."
"My place close. Also my place not Mario's place."
That is most incredibly true. Mario manages amused and slightly disappointed in a stellar fashion when Sid comes in under less than his own power. Whatever, Sid is Mario, or something, which means Mario definitely did this a million years ago when he had a sweet mullet and a Stanley Cup, so sometimes, Mario could bite him. Sid didn't have a Stanley Cup.
Geno is turning his head between an inquisitive face at Sid and, y'know, the road, and Sid realizes he's talking out loud, and he's really glad Geno mostly can't understand him. They're at Geno's then anyway, and he shrugs because it really was nothing, and Geno seems fine to accept it.
Sid gets his own door.
He beelines for Geno's fridge while Geno himself has a fairly long conversation with his dog and then wanders off for shadowy parts unknown. He's pounded his way through three Gatorades and is calmly sipping the fourth when Geno walks back into the kitchen, this time fully naked. Sid manages to catch himself before he sprays refreshing lemon-lime goodness onto Geno, who is naked, and…very naked. Right.
Right.
That's…why they're here. Sid laughs, and Geno's eyebrows go through his hairline.
"Well. We may not do." Geno sounds a little grumpy, and that's totally fair. Sid kind of wants to die, he can't believe he forgot, sort of, or maybe he was just that comfortable or something, but he most definitely wants to …do. He thinks so, anyway, and his dick seems to be pretty onboard.
What's supposed to come out as "Let's do, actually" sounds a whole lot more like "Um, please" and Geno's face is way better then. So smug and yet kind of light and yep, he's still naked, and Sid is really not, but when he reaches to untuck his shirt, Geno catches his hand and shakes his head.
"Bedroom. I want to."
That's pretty fantastic, then, Sid's just sad he didn't get to participate in these activities on Geno's behalf, and Geno's place is … pretty different from Mario's, like, Sid knows that and everything, but then he's pressed against Geno's doorjamb, and he isn't thinking about Mario at all.
Sid's not surprised that Geno is all limbs and abandon (it's just like how he plays), and he's very, very into that. Geno's not coy, he's tongue first and small talk later, he's enough bigger that Sid is kind of wholly covered and up on his toes and the doorframe is digging into his back, but Geno's hands are also under his shirt and thumbs stroking his nipples at …yep, exactly the same pace that his tongue is moving against Sid's, and that is so unbelievably hot that Sid is briefly afraid he might get off before he gets his pants off, and that is not okay. He pushes a bit at Geno's shoulders, "Clothes. Off, let me," and then he's being fairly whirled into the room, and his shirt is on the floor.
Or not, okay, Geno did say he wanted to do this. Sid's just got his hands on Geno's shoulders, he's done at least this much before, when Geno's got his jeans and boxer briefs around his ankles, and okay, he knows a lot about how fast Geno can be, but this is seriously a whole new level. He's smiling and sort of biting at Sid the whole time, though, so it's also seriously awesome.
Once Sid's naked, though, the pace changes just a little. Geno doesn't so much push him on the bed as kind of lead him there with a hand on his shoulder, and while Sid's been here sort of mostly before, he does give himself away a bit with a flex of his hand on Geno's hip.
Geno props himself up on one hand with one thigh between Sid's, and his smile is tempered with only a little worry. "Okay?"
He is, Sid is, it's just kind of been a minute and longer since the last time he and Jack messed around at all. "Yeah, more than okay, really okay, it's just been a minute."
Geno leans down and places his lips to the shell of Sid's right ear. "Be fun, Sid, you see." He pushes back a little. "Um. What you do before?"
To his credit, and he's mentally patting himself on the back, Sid doesn't blush or stutter or go all press camera deflective. Honesty is the best policy here, right? And maybe helpful hand gestures. "I've had blowjobs. I haven't done it, though, but I really think I could." (And here Geno pointedly stares at Sid's mouth, and really, Sid's heard it all before in this regard.) "Hand jobs. Both ways. I like it." He shrugs as much as possible while being sort of nicely crushed by Geno, whose face is now reflecting a perfect "Duh."
"That it? Only guys?"
No, but Sid's relations with girls tend to be kind of one-sided, and he really doesn't want to talk about that or the fact that he thinks of them as relations, so he just says, "No, some girls."
Geno nods mostly to himself and lowers his lips to meet Sid's just as he pushes his thigh up tight to get the right angle against his cock, and oh, that's really kind of better than anyone's ever managed it before, and Sid can't stop himself before he presses fingertips hard into Geno's back and bucks up, left knee rising so that Geno's pressed down against it, and Geno sounds ragged already when he rasps out, "Yes, you natural. No surprise."
Sid does only a very small victory cheer in his head.
Like against the door, Geno moves to cover Sid completely, and Sid thinks it's really stellartastic enough that Geno's bigger enough that he can do that, just head to toe, that he's willing to make up new words for it. Their cocks line up neatly, and they make out with tons of enthusiasm and spit, and there's this twisting feeling that it could go on like this all night but really, it's getting headier as it leads towards something.
Apparently, they each realize that at the same time and make simultaneous differing moves to go to something…else, new, and what happens is that Sid mostly elbows Geno in the eye.
Geno rears back, hand over his eye and swearing lowly in English and Russian, but he doesn't get up completely, and he doesn't even really look mad, so Sid doesn't think he's about to get punched in the dick, and that's a win. His face changes, though, as he looks Sid over, he's at once thoughtful and kind of wanton, and he says, "Know what to do. But make promise."
Sid raises an eyebrow. "Promise?"
"No kick. Promise."
"I won't kick you. Um. Promise. So, what--"
But quick like the disrobing, Geno's got a pillow under Sid's hips and Sid's knees over his shoulders, and oh. Sid's got an extremely excellent idea of what--. That…is new. And not unwelcome. But new.
…And going to be totally fucking awesome if his initial reaction is telling. Sid throws a hand over his face to muffle himself at the very first flat swipe of Geno's tongue against his hole, and he'll be goddamned if Geno doesn't chuckle, like, around his tongue, and that feels mind-blowing just like, on him, not even in him, and he does manage to keep the involuntary "DO ME ON IT" in his head and not sing it to the ceiling and counts that as a win.
He feels himself just opening up bit by bit under the probing ministrations, sometimes slow and deliberate, sometimes harder jabs to the muscular ring from the blunt end of Geno's tongue, and he doesn't even think Geno realizes that he's kinda petting Sid's inner thighs, but y'know, he is, and Sid feels like liquid. When Geno realizes how much noise Sid is holding back, he reaches up and pulls his hand from his mouth.
"Be loud. Who care? I like."
So Sid does. And…he's kind of a bossy talker.
Surprise.
Sometimes in-between eye rolls back into his skull, Sid catches Geno looking at him and it's the second time it happens that Sid comes to the realization that there is not a hand his dick. Not Geno's, not his own, and how the hell is that happening? He'd just been so gone on the fireworks going off below that he'd forgotten about his own dick. He is so sorry, little buddy, and the first time he pulls, everything gets at least seventy-one times better.
He doesn't kick Geno, but it's close. He digs his heels into his back, though, and Geno moans, sending vibrations flooding through Sid ass and by extension his dick, and yep, he's probably gonna come right about now.
Whatever, he can get better at this.
Sid tries to warn Geno, but his words are broken and he can't get anything out, and Geno figures it out at exactly the right time to catch the second spurt across his cheekbone, and his eyes go wide, and Sid thinks he could probably jerk off to that for the rest of his life.
"Hmm. We work on time next time." Geno sounds pretty proud of himself actually but also very much like he'd like to get off yesterday, and he's crawling up to press his mouth to Sid's, scrabbling to get his hands in the right spot on his hips to get just the friction he's looking for, when he stops and kneels back, urges Sid onto his stomach with a "turn please."
Well, Sid's not entirely sure he's ready for that at just this moment, but he's been a brave, experimental toaster the rest of this evening, so he goes willingly, but thinks some of his hesitation must show because Geno leans down and says, "Not this time, okay? But this…be good for both of us."
Then Geno's massaging his shoulders roughly and sucking at the back of his neck, and that's clearly good for Sid, but what's in it for Geno? That's a thought he maintains for about four seconds before Geno reaches down to arrange…and, holy fuck, Sid has never been happier for his enormous ass than at this moment, and the sounds Geno's making are more than agreement. The remaining spit from Geno's (most excellent, A+++, Sid can only judge by his zero experience, but it was a 10.0) rim job and his own sweat are more than enough for a good slide, and Sid pushes his hips up and back just enough that Geno doesn't have to work quite that hard for it.
Oh God, the feeling of the rough slide of Geno's cock against his hole, slipfast, Sid's young, he can totally get it up again, except he really can't no matter how much he wills it, so he just bites out incoherent affirmations and bucks back against Geno's teeth on his shoulders. He can feel Geno's knees hard up against his thighs, the grip gets tighter and yet more unstable as Geno gets closer, "Fuck, Sid, you."
Sid thinks he knows exactly how he feels.
Geno falls apart atop him, come trapped against Sid's back as he shakes and gasps, and Sid really, really wishes he could see his face, but he's got his own pressed into the pillow for leverage as he tightens his body against Geno, allowing a harder surface for him to ride it out against, and they will both be bruised tomorrow. Whatever, everyone's bruised all the time, always.
how it was two
So they start sleeping together. It's not all the time, and it's not even really a big deal. Geno sometimes keeps up girlfriends, and sometimes he takes home randos, and all the time they play better and along the way they win the Stanley Cup and lose the Winter Classic and Sid gets a concussion.
Like, a really bad one, and he's out.
It doesn't feel like reality both for real and psychosomatic reasons, and Sid knows staying frustrated isn't the way to inner wellness or whatever, but it's kind of hard not to when all you do is play hockey. Somewhere along the line he picks up like…famous friends, and sometimes he does stuff with them, but mostly he hangs around in Pittsburgh and moves in and out of Mario's and works out incessantly and bothers the shit out of everyone he knows.
It's just like Sid any other time, except he can't play hockey, and that's fucking depressing. He keeps his head up okay though. He really thinks so.
Sid and Geno see each other less, and by extension fuck less, but mostly otherwise it's the same except Geno is pretty careful not to allow contact between Sid's head and the headboard, until one Thursday in the end of the season Sid has to finish out before another he probably has to start out, fuck his life.
Sid's fiddling with the remote and his hair and making random comments about the things he has to say about reporters when a headache attacks from left field, and he drops the remote in favor of gripping his head.
Geno looks concerned but he doesn't say anything, he just pulls in closer to Sid and simply…puts his face into his neck, breathing slowly and sort of nuzzling, nuzzling, and it's gentle. Geno is really mostly not a gentle guy, he's really never been like this with Sid before, but it feels just nice all over, and Sid's game with that.
He doesn't understand whatever it is Geno's muttering against his pulse, but for a second, Sid wonders if it's Russian voodoo or something because his headache is fading away and he feels kind of light all over. He just wants a little…more, and he puts a hand to Geno's cheek, tilts his face down for a kiss.
Geno keeps it closed mouthed (and what is going on) and still gentle, palm cradling Sid's face, but also hot until Sid can't really take it any more and lets out the tiniest of noises, dragging his teeth a bit across Geno's bottom lip at the same time.
It works (yay!) and in a movement just slow enough to keep Sid from being dizzy, he finds himself against a handily placed throw pillow and the arm of his couch, but Geno still keeps the pace and the pressure light. For instance, he doesn't go directly for the top button of Sid's shorts, contenting himself with a palm under his t-shirt just at the curve of his hip.
He cups Sid's jaw while they kiss, tongue probing but with no real rush or urgency, like he could kiss Sid like this all day, rocks his hips against Sid's but like he wants to get off nice and slow or maybe not at all, like he wants just this.
And that is different, and Sid doesn't know exactly why or even how. He doesn't mind it or anything, but it's never like this between them, but also when he reaches a hand between them to push it into Geno's shorts, it's allowed, so clearly getting off is still in play here.
Sid works his hand in small circles, matches Geno's pace, and Geno licks a broad, hot stripe around the shell of his ear before biting down on the bone barely shielded by the softest skin just behind it and at once palming Sid through his shorts with one hand and linking the fingers on their others.
Not sure what it says about Sid that he comes embarrassingly quickly, like quicker than he has in ages, quicker than that first time with Geno, even, he thinks, but he does, and Geno's hand is not even really on his dick, but it doesn't seem to matter much because just as he's getting together enough to remember he does have a job to finish, a hand job at that (and he snickers to himself in his head, it'd be really inopportune to bust that one out loud), Geno's eyes are kind of flickering and rolling back in a most recognizable manner.
Geno's definitely the guy who passes out after, and Sid's actually kind of becoming one, too, so he really wants to be in his bed right now and not on his couch, and as usual, Geno seems to get that. He's standing and offering a hand up to Sid, who makes a tortured face as he looks at the wet patches on each of their shorts.
"Grown ass men we are now. Still getting off like teenagers."
"You like it." Geno's so smug all of the time. Sid knows from smug.
Laundry room pit-stop, naked walk to the master bedroom, this is familiarish territory now, and in the morning Geno is pretty much the same as any other, so Sid chalks up the weirdly gentle behavior from the day before to a new experiment from Geno. He likes to teach Sid things. Sid asks if he wants toast with his coffee because there really isn't anything else to say, and then it's off to hear that it's still gonna be awhile before he's cleared for any real play.
It happens a few more times here and there, but not all the time and not even all that often, and Sid almost never sees it coming, but all of a sudden Geno will be this kind of smooth, gentle guy in the bedroom, and while he's not all limbs and enthusiasm like he was at 20 now, this is just not their usual fare. Normally, it's a disturbing amount like the way they play, and it's as complimentary in the bedroom as on the ice, like duh.
On a side note, Sid misses playing with Geno as much as he misses playing hockey.
how it is
Sid is cleared for contact for the second go round on March 6 and back in play nine days later. His return is two games before a shootout loss against the Flyers that snaps an eleven game winning streak, and after that game, he meets the fairly critical questions with his usual calm deflection and is the same Sid he's ever been.
And Geno stops sleeping with him.
It's not a spoken thing or anything, but they're definitely not sleeping together or not-sleeping together or anything like any of those things.
They manage two more wins before dropping one to the Sens, and then they lose enough to comfortably cement 5th in the conference instead of the run for division champs they could have made or the fourth they should have at least had over Philadelphia. The only thing worse than this was when Sid couldn't play hockey at all, and at least then, he and Geno were still fucking, and he'd had that.
After another (another) loss to the Flyers, Sid turns on Geno with just about the blackest eyes he's ever had and demands to know why Geno is fucking with their game. It's a pretty accusatory and inaccurate thing, but Sid doesn't know why they're losing and why they're not fucking, and he's not the only one who thinks the two might be connected.
(Turns out their teammates know way more about dude on dude sex than anyone ever could have imagined, and Sid wonders who's the brave guy doing the research. He bets it's Duper. Married or not, that dude is kinky.)
Their teammates also think their locker room ceiling is quite interesting, by the looks and sounds of things, but Geno is looking right at Sid. He doesn't look like he's going to punch Sid in the balls, which is surprising given the circumstances, but he also doesn't look like he's going to invite Sid home with him. He grips Sid's shoulder and asks a question half in Russian about the good of the team because he's an asshole who knows Sid still hasn't sat down with the Rosetta Stone and only knows enough to not even call it getting by, sometimes asking Geno about specific phrases and et cetera.
Geno leaves right then, it's an anticlimactic dramatic exit, and Sid's teammates are looking him with a mixture of the urge to beat him to a pulp mixed with a tinge of …is that pity, just, really? That's kind of new, actually, this mixture of faces, not one he's used to.
"What?" Sid's voice is flat and pretty good at brooking no argument, so there isn't any, just a bunch of angry Penguins slamming equipment around and making noises about all of the alcohol in the world. Sid doesn't want to go, and he's not really invited anyway. He's really fucking mad and confused, and he just wants to know what the fuck is going on.
They win out the season, including the crucial pre-playoff match with Philly before the Cup rounds start, but things are tense in ways everyone feels and puts their fingers all over in ways that are none of everyone's business, really. Sid hates the way he's feeling, like he's still losing, and in the four days between the last regular season game and the first quarterfinal, he thinks about those times that Geno was gentle.
He texts Gonch for the simple reason that he's not Ovechkin and asks what does miliya moy mean because he's pretty sure that's one of the things Geno would say in his Russian voodoo nuzzling mumblings. Then he gets in the shower and jerks off pretty hastily, just flashes of Geno through the steam are enough, and…they're enough.
The reply from Sergei is i will break you. Well, that settles that, then. Sid's about 87% sure Geno wasn't threatening a) him or b) his concussion with the nuzzles. He's relatively certain he can fix this.
But he isn't actually sure it is. Geno has girlfriends. Geno bangs randos on road trips.
Except maybe he kind of hasn't in a while that Sid's noticed, and…Sid would have noticed. That's just the truth about these days.
He needs to be totally sure, though, this isn't just some tiff, this is some star-crossed shit with potential for going Hatfield and McCoy. (Sid has this thing for American trivia; sometimes he's so Canadian it hurts to look at him.)
So he does call Ovechkin because they're friends now or something, and he can do that. Sid answers Alex's "helloooooo Dr Cosby" (because Alex also has this thing for American trivia, and he thinks the similarity between Cosby and Crosby is hilarious) with "what does miliya moy mean?" and all he gets out of Ovechkin for a good two and a half minutes is his distinct laughter.
"Sidney, your Russian terrible. Never try again, not for Evgeni or old regime. He like your Canadian fine." He drops his voice a little then, turns the merriment a few shades down, and says, "It mean my sweet. Very tender name. When Zhenya call you that?" Geno's own tender name, Sid never tries to say it, though, he doesn't want to fuck it up.
Months, Sid thinks, it's been so long, and then he's hanging up on Alex's questions, ever louder and more hysterical, and he doesn't even care that every Russian that plays hockey on this Earth will know about this call before morning, and probably the Malkins, and he just really doesn't care.
Sid can fix this. He just…has to figure out how. It's not like he can just walk up to Geno and say, I don't want this to be about the team, either, fuckhead, it's his heart and Geno's or whatever and so, so much pride on the line here that everything about this has to be right. Perfect.
Whatever, Sid's used to working towards that.
It has to be about Geno, and then it clicks - it has to be about the way this thing with Geno has changed him.
Fine. "Yes because it totally has," Sid says to himself, and his use of Geno's favorite space-filler while he comes up with the right English doesn't even occur to him.
--
Sid just kind of…relaxes. He's been getting ever, ever better at being one of the guys his whole career, he knows the jokes about the Sidbot, and he knows how true they can be, but this is a whole different kind of thing. They drop two to Philly straight off, blowing some leads and brawling for respect away, but Sid stays sort of languid and open.
After the truly spectacular spectacle in Game 3, Sid drops his usual façade with the press and tells them exactly how he feels about Voracek.
"I don't like him." He's just so angry. "I don't like anyone on their team." It doesn't really matter what the questions are, this is the thing he's going to say. "What was I supposed to do, pick up his glove for him?"
The response to that is so ridiculous that Sid actually scoffs on camera. "Skate away? Yeah, well, I didn't that time, so."
Geno smiles at him after the mob departs, and Sid feels something inside of him unfurl.
Yes, yes, yes.
Then the reality of being three games down finally hits them all, and something…happens. Something like scoring ten goals. Sid even scores one with his ass. He feels a little bad that takes away Geno's hat trick, but whatever, it's time his ass got the respect it deserves, and if that means a scoring a goal, then so be it. They are on fire.
In Game 5, Sid decides to let it all hang out, balls to the wall. It's still an elimination game. He adopts his own twist on Geno's style of abandon and just goes. He feels great, light in a familiar way, even when it turns out to be maybe the strangest night he's ever played on the ice.
"Five hits on Crosby", that's not the new part, but one of them being fairly violently if unintentionally delivered by Geno, and one of them being delivered by a goal post, that's not one he can remember happening like this before. They win, and it's mostly on Flower, and Sid gives him his dues all over the place after the game.
Geno just keeps looking at Sid, and finally he reaches out, his hand hovering just above Sid's shoulder. His face is open with concern, frustration, and something Sid's now pretty sure is kind of love, and he says quietly, "Did not mean to hit you."
God, Sid knows that. Though maybe he'd've deserved it. He deserved the wake up call.
The visitors' ceiling in Philly commands just as much interest as their home in Pittsburgh from what Sid can tell.
"You, maybe not. The goal, though, it had it out for me for sure." Sid turns his face just the slightest bit towards Geno's hand, still hovering, and presses his lips to his thumb, it's just what's closest.
"You break goalpost heart too?" And even though Geno's smiling, it still stings a little bit, and Sid most definitely deserved that, too.
There is a collective sigh of relief and a resumption in the win glow chatter, still thick with another looming elimination though, and Sid lifts his hand to thread through Geno's very much like that other time.
"Home, time to go."
Geno grins widely and tugs Sid towards the door. "First you apologize to goalpost, then we go back to the Pitts."
notes: thanks to sometimesalways for being the text/DM recipient of this in its original ongoing format, thanks to deepsix for getting me started when the pornblock came, and thanks to everyone who stickholmed me into crosby. i hate you all.
also here at ao3.
break the rules already
sidney crosby/evgeni malkin
pittsburgh penguins
how it was one
Sid's actually pretty excited about Evgeni Malkin coming to the Penguins; he knows about Malkin, he was drafted before Sid, even, and he's big and fast and scores like a bajillion goals for his team in Manitogorsk, and he's probably going on the line with him, so. He's kinda looking forward to his arrival. Mario's been talking about it a lot. Something about himself and Jagr twenty years ago, and seriously, how is Jagr still playing (like Mario didn't just retire again six months ago and like Sid doesn't think he's gonna play forever), so sometimes Sid thinks about that instead of what Mario's saying about Malkin, but anyway, he looks pretty intense, and, well. Sid knows about that.
The Pens aren't super heavy on Russians, but Gonch is there to teach him how to say hello in Malkin's native tongue at his their first practice together, and when Sid butchers Evgeni, the asshole laughs and pokes Malkin's arm, says something Sid obviously can't understand, and Malkin smiles. "Geno."
Okay. That's easier anyway.
"Geno it is. Sidney. Pretty sure you're gonna be great with us."
Gonch rolls his eyes and says, "Think he probably know who you are," but introduces Sidney anyway. Geno shakes his hand and shrugs a shoulder towards the door.
"Yep. Let's skate."
--
Being that their job is a sport, some of the first English Geno learns of course is actual locker room talk, and it feels like it isn't long at all before he's chirping along with the rest of them. Sid's a favorite target for everyone, and he's used to that, accepts it easily (his lips have always looked like this, okay, and his ass got this big pretty early, whatever, his thighs match, he isn't weird) and picks up his own points for zingers along the way.
They're talking about heading to a bar after a February home shutout against Washington during a six win streak (pretty much the best of circumstances) when Geno stops rubbing a towel over his hair and fixes a wide grin on Sid.
"Sid. Whole life hockey star. Must …bang all women!" He sounds pretty convinced, but there's a twinkle in his eye that might say differently.
To say the locker room erupts in laughter would be putting it just a bit mildly, really sad for a minute that the decibel meter is out in the arena. Staalsy, who is a rookie anyway, like who's listening, hoots out a "yeeeeah, Sid!" like the farm boy he is and falls off his bench. Geno looks kind of confused, awww, Sid's a little touched that he meant it.
"Gonch? A little help?"
Sergei manages to pull himself upright and walks over to where Sid's trying to explain about hockey, and women, and hockey. He says a few words to Geno, not enough so that Sid's entirely comfortable that Gonch has made his point about hockey and women, and hockey. Geno's eyes go a little wide, and whatever, Sid is only nineteen, it's really not a big deal. But he blushes anyway, high spots of color, and states fairly calmly that he gets by just fine, thanks.
And that seems to be that.
Except Sid waits everyone out before shrugging on his coat and bag, and he almost screams like a tiny child when there's someone lurking outside the door. And. Of course.
"Jesus, Geno, you scared the shit out of me." Sid thinks his face must convey what he means, and Geno's English is getting better all the time, because Geno looks just the tiniest bit chagrined and shrugs a sorry before managing to smile and look pretty intense at once, Sid is impressed.
"Um. Before. Problem?"
Sid owns the Rosetta Stone for Russian, he bought it two weeks ago, but they've been winning and playing and winning and he just hasn't had the time yet. He really, really wishes he'd made it his travel music now. It takes a lot of words to describe dedication and distractions, but he figures Geno probably gets both of those things.
"It's just that…hockey comes first. No distractions." There, that's simple enough.
Geno looks curious now. "So. Never?"
Sid is pretty sure there aren't any fault lines or sink holes under the Igloo that will open up and swallow him, so might as well go ahead and have this conversation. It isn't the first time.
"Look, I've gotten off with other people, okay. I just…don't, so. No." Sid's chin is up and jaw set. "Never."
Something flickers across Geno's face, darkens his eyes and purses his lips for just a moment before he quirks up one corner of his mouth and steps sort of very close to Sid, puts a hand on his shoulder. "Can help you, yes because not get laid is distraction, and am not distraction. Am hockey."
And, huh. Well, that's certainly true.
"That's…true." And now Geno is like, incredibly close, and Sid's, yep, he's definitely okay with that, and they are in a brightly lit hallway in front of - no one at the moment, but that's really not the point, but also as the point is that he doesn't care, he closes the gap and says "Okay" against Geno's very carefully seductive and kind of stupid smile.
Okay.
But then Geno's grabbing his wrist and dragging him down the hall, and Sid's sort of bumping into his bag, "I mean, tonight?"
Geno doesn't stop and throws an actually perfectly careless "Why we not?" over his shoulder before continuing a few feet and then stopping. He looks…really patient, actually, and Sid likes that. Kind of unexpected. His eyes are dark again, and Sid gets lost in them again long enough to miss it the first time Geno says, "No? Is okay."
"No." Geno drops his wrist, and wait, what, wait, that's not what Sid meant. "I mean yes. No, it's okay, yes, let's go."
Sid probably would have looked confused if he were Geno, but to his credit, Geno doesn't. He just confirms, "Okay?"
He's lost somewhere in Geno's eyes again, but Sid manages a "Yep" and walks quickly beside Geno down the hall. Geno doesn't drop his wrist.
Geno's kind of gentleman or whatever, he puts Sid's bag in the back along side his own and okay, then he opens Sid's door, and Sid finally laughs as he climbs in, full and whole, head tilted back and all. Geno looks…well, impish is really the only right word for it, and he rolls his eyes before starting the car.
They're three turns into the drive when Sid realizes they're not headed to his or Geno's, but he's pretty sure he's not being abducted, and they're at the bar pretty soon anyway. He's only a little surprised and makes a questioning noise while he fiddles with his seatbelt.
"Figure show you good time first."
"You gonna get my door for me?" Sid gestures with a snicker.
And Geno does.
It's exactly like every other night they go out with the team, except for the part where Sid gets more than tipsy (for Sid, he's just. kind of nervous, and somehow his perfectly innocent sodas stop being just that), and sometimes Geno's hand is on his knee, and sometimes his arm is around his shoulder, and his smile is always in his face, but definitely the part where it's loud and full of laughter and someone picking up two chicks, someone picking up no chicks, and someone getting a drink in their face. No names, everyone already knows who.
Sid tunes into Geno having a serious (maybe? he's not sure) conversation with Flower at the part where Geno's saying "-take Sid home. Little drunk." Not serious, then, just obvious. Flower waves a hand in their general direction, and Geno gives Sid a little push out of the booth, grin as wide as it's been all night. "Out, out. Take you home now."
Awesome. Sid feels buzzed and great and he's so stoked to go home. This is when bed feels best.
Only one turn this time. "We're going to your place."
"My place close. Also my place not Mario's place."
That is most incredibly true. Mario manages amused and slightly disappointed in a stellar fashion when Sid comes in under less than his own power. Whatever, Sid is Mario, or something, which means Mario definitely did this a million years ago when he had a sweet mullet and a Stanley Cup, so sometimes, Mario could bite him. Sid didn't have a Stanley Cup.
Geno is turning his head between an inquisitive face at Sid and, y'know, the road, and Sid realizes he's talking out loud, and he's really glad Geno mostly can't understand him. They're at Geno's then anyway, and he shrugs because it really was nothing, and Geno seems fine to accept it.
Sid gets his own door.
He beelines for Geno's fridge while Geno himself has a fairly long conversation with his dog and then wanders off for shadowy parts unknown. He's pounded his way through three Gatorades and is calmly sipping the fourth when Geno walks back into the kitchen, this time fully naked. Sid manages to catch himself before he sprays refreshing lemon-lime goodness onto Geno, who is naked, and…very naked. Right.
Right.
That's…why they're here. Sid laughs, and Geno's eyebrows go through his hairline.
"Well. We may not do." Geno sounds a little grumpy, and that's totally fair. Sid kind of wants to die, he can't believe he forgot, sort of, or maybe he was just that comfortable or something, but he most definitely wants to …do. He thinks so, anyway, and his dick seems to be pretty onboard.
What's supposed to come out as "Let's do, actually" sounds a whole lot more like "Um, please" and Geno's face is way better then. So smug and yet kind of light and yep, he's still naked, and Sid is really not, but when he reaches to untuck his shirt, Geno catches his hand and shakes his head.
"Bedroom. I want to."
That's pretty fantastic, then, Sid's just sad he didn't get to participate in these activities on Geno's behalf, and Geno's place is … pretty different from Mario's, like, Sid knows that and everything, but then he's pressed against Geno's doorjamb, and he isn't thinking about Mario at all.
Sid's not surprised that Geno is all limbs and abandon (it's just like how he plays), and he's very, very into that. Geno's not coy, he's tongue first and small talk later, he's enough bigger that Sid is kind of wholly covered and up on his toes and the doorframe is digging into his back, but Geno's hands are also under his shirt and thumbs stroking his nipples at …yep, exactly the same pace that his tongue is moving against Sid's, and that is so unbelievably hot that Sid is briefly afraid he might get off before he gets his pants off, and that is not okay. He pushes a bit at Geno's shoulders, "Clothes. Off, let me," and then he's being fairly whirled into the room, and his shirt is on the floor.
Or not, okay, Geno did say he wanted to do this. Sid's just got his hands on Geno's shoulders, he's done at least this much before, when Geno's got his jeans and boxer briefs around his ankles, and okay, he knows a lot about how fast Geno can be, but this is seriously a whole new level. He's smiling and sort of biting at Sid the whole time, though, so it's also seriously awesome.
Once Sid's naked, though, the pace changes just a little. Geno doesn't so much push him on the bed as kind of lead him there with a hand on his shoulder, and while Sid's been here sort of mostly before, he does give himself away a bit with a flex of his hand on Geno's hip.
Geno props himself up on one hand with one thigh between Sid's, and his smile is tempered with only a little worry. "Okay?"
He is, Sid is, it's just kind of been a minute and longer since the last time he and Jack messed around at all. "Yeah, more than okay, really okay, it's just been a minute."
Geno leans down and places his lips to the shell of Sid's right ear. "Be fun, Sid, you see." He pushes back a little. "Um. What you do before?"
To his credit, and he's mentally patting himself on the back, Sid doesn't blush or stutter or go all press camera deflective. Honesty is the best policy here, right? And maybe helpful hand gestures. "I've had blowjobs. I haven't done it, though, but I really think I could." (And here Geno pointedly stares at Sid's mouth, and really, Sid's heard it all before in this regard.) "Hand jobs. Both ways. I like it." He shrugs as much as possible while being sort of nicely crushed by Geno, whose face is now reflecting a perfect "Duh."
"That it? Only guys?"
No, but Sid's relations with girls tend to be kind of one-sided, and he really doesn't want to talk about that or the fact that he thinks of them as relations, so he just says, "No, some girls."
Geno nods mostly to himself and lowers his lips to meet Sid's just as he pushes his thigh up tight to get the right angle against his cock, and oh, that's really kind of better than anyone's ever managed it before, and Sid can't stop himself before he presses fingertips hard into Geno's back and bucks up, left knee rising so that Geno's pressed down against it, and Geno sounds ragged already when he rasps out, "Yes, you natural. No surprise."
Sid does only a very small victory cheer in his head.
Like against the door, Geno moves to cover Sid completely, and Sid thinks it's really stellartastic enough that Geno's bigger enough that he can do that, just head to toe, that he's willing to make up new words for it. Their cocks line up neatly, and they make out with tons of enthusiasm and spit, and there's this twisting feeling that it could go on like this all night but really, it's getting headier as it leads towards something.
Apparently, they each realize that at the same time and make simultaneous differing moves to go to something…else, new, and what happens is that Sid mostly elbows Geno in the eye.
Geno rears back, hand over his eye and swearing lowly in English and Russian, but he doesn't get up completely, and he doesn't even really look mad, so Sid doesn't think he's about to get punched in the dick, and that's a win. His face changes, though, as he looks Sid over, he's at once thoughtful and kind of wanton, and he says, "Know what to do. But make promise."
Sid raises an eyebrow. "Promise?"
"No kick. Promise."
"I won't kick you. Um. Promise. So, what--"
But quick like the disrobing, Geno's got a pillow under Sid's hips and Sid's knees over his shoulders, and oh. Sid's got an extremely excellent idea of what--. That…is new. And not unwelcome. But new.
…And going to be totally fucking awesome if his initial reaction is telling. Sid throws a hand over his face to muffle himself at the very first flat swipe of Geno's tongue against his hole, and he'll be goddamned if Geno doesn't chuckle, like, around his tongue, and that feels mind-blowing just like, on him, not even in him, and he does manage to keep the involuntary "DO ME ON IT" in his head and not sing it to the ceiling and counts that as a win.
He feels himself just opening up bit by bit under the probing ministrations, sometimes slow and deliberate, sometimes harder jabs to the muscular ring from the blunt end of Geno's tongue, and he doesn't even think Geno realizes that he's kinda petting Sid's inner thighs, but y'know, he is, and Sid feels like liquid. When Geno realizes how much noise Sid is holding back, he reaches up and pulls his hand from his mouth.
"Be loud. Who care? I like."
So Sid does. And…he's kind of a bossy talker.
Surprise.
Sometimes in-between eye rolls back into his skull, Sid catches Geno looking at him and it's the second time it happens that Sid comes to the realization that there is not a hand his dick. Not Geno's, not his own, and how the hell is that happening? He'd just been so gone on the fireworks going off below that he'd forgotten about his own dick. He is so sorry, little buddy, and the first time he pulls, everything gets at least seventy-one times better.
He doesn't kick Geno, but it's close. He digs his heels into his back, though, and Geno moans, sending vibrations flooding through Sid ass and by extension his dick, and yep, he's probably gonna come right about now.
Whatever, he can get better at this.
Sid tries to warn Geno, but his words are broken and he can't get anything out, and Geno figures it out at exactly the right time to catch the second spurt across his cheekbone, and his eyes go wide, and Sid thinks he could probably jerk off to that for the rest of his life.
"Hmm. We work on time next time." Geno sounds pretty proud of himself actually but also very much like he'd like to get off yesterday, and he's crawling up to press his mouth to Sid's, scrabbling to get his hands in the right spot on his hips to get just the friction he's looking for, when he stops and kneels back, urges Sid onto his stomach with a "turn please."
Well, Sid's not entirely sure he's ready for that at just this moment, but he's been a brave, experimental toaster the rest of this evening, so he goes willingly, but thinks some of his hesitation must show because Geno leans down and says, "Not this time, okay? But this…be good for both of us."
Then Geno's massaging his shoulders roughly and sucking at the back of his neck, and that's clearly good for Sid, but what's in it for Geno? That's a thought he maintains for about four seconds before Geno reaches down to arrange…and, holy fuck, Sid has never been happier for his enormous ass than at this moment, and the sounds Geno's making are more than agreement. The remaining spit from Geno's (most excellent, A+++, Sid can only judge by his zero experience, but it was a 10.0) rim job and his own sweat are more than enough for a good slide, and Sid pushes his hips up and back just enough that Geno doesn't have to work quite that hard for it.
Oh God, the feeling of the rough slide of Geno's cock against his hole, slipfast, Sid's young, he can totally get it up again, except he really can't no matter how much he wills it, so he just bites out incoherent affirmations and bucks back against Geno's teeth on his shoulders. He can feel Geno's knees hard up against his thighs, the grip gets tighter and yet more unstable as Geno gets closer, "Fuck, Sid, you."
Sid thinks he knows exactly how he feels.
Geno falls apart atop him, come trapped against Sid's back as he shakes and gasps, and Sid really, really wishes he could see his face, but he's got his own pressed into the pillow for leverage as he tightens his body against Geno, allowing a harder surface for him to ride it out against, and they will both be bruised tomorrow. Whatever, everyone's bruised all the time, always.
how it was two
So they start sleeping together. It's not all the time, and it's not even really a big deal. Geno sometimes keeps up girlfriends, and sometimes he takes home randos, and all the time they play better and along the way they win the Stanley Cup and lose the Winter Classic and Sid gets a concussion.
Like, a really bad one, and he's out.
It doesn't feel like reality both for real and psychosomatic reasons, and Sid knows staying frustrated isn't the way to inner wellness or whatever, but it's kind of hard not to when all you do is play hockey. Somewhere along the line he picks up like…famous friends, and sometimes he does stuff with them, but mostly he hangs around in Pittsburgh and moves in and out of Mario's and works out incessantly and bothers the shit out of everyone he knows.
It's just like Sid any other time, except he can't play hockey, and that's fucking depressing. He keeps his head up okay though. He really thinks so.
Sid and Geno see each other less, and by extension fuck less, but mostly otherwise it's the same except Geno is pretty careful not to allow contact between Sid's head and the headboard, until one Thursday in the end of the season Sid has to finish out before another he probably has to start out, fuck his life.
Sid's fiddling with the remote and his hair and making random comments about the things he has to say about reporters when a headache attacks from left field, and he drops the remote in favor of gripping his head.
Geno looks concerned but he doesn't say anything, he just pulls in closer to Sid and simply…puts his face into his neck, breathing slowly and sort of nuzzling, nuzzling, and it's gentle. Geno is really mostly not a gentle guy, he's really never been like this with Sid before, but it feels just nice all over, and Sid's game with that.
He doesn't understand whatever it is Geno's muttering against his pulse, but for a second, Sid wonders if it's Russian voodoo or something because his headache is fading away and he feels kind of light all over. He just wants a little…more, and he puts a hand to Geno's cheek, tilts his face down for a kiss.
Geno keeps it closed mouthed (and what is going on) and still gentle, palm cradling Sid's face, but also hot until Sid can't really take it any more and lets out the tiniest of noises, dragging his teeth a bit across Geno's bottom lip at the same time.
It works (yay!) and in a movement just slow enough to keep Sid from being dizzy, he finds himself against a handily placed throw pillow and the arm of his couch, but Geno still keeps the pace and the pressure light. For instance, he doesn't go directly for the top button of Sid's shorts, contenting himself with a palm under his t-shirt just at the curve of his hip.
He cups Sid's jaw while they kiss, tongue probing but with no real rush or urgency, like he could kiss Sid like this all day, rocks his hips against Sid's but like he wants to get off nice and slow or maybe not at all, like he wants just this.
And that is different, and Sid doesn't know exactly why or even how. He doesn't mind it or anything, but it's never like this between them, but also when he reaches a hand between them to push it into Geno's shorts, it's allowed, so clearly getting off is still in play here.
Sid works his hand in small circles, matches Geno's pace, and Geno licks a broad, hot stripe around the shell of his ear before biting down on the bone barely shielded by the softest skin just behind it and at once palming Sid through his shorts with one hand and linking the fingers on their others.
Not sure what it says about Sid that he comes embarrassingly quickly, like quicker than he has in ages, quicker than that first time with Geno, even, he thinks, but he does, and Geno's hand is not even really on his dick, but it doesn't seem to matter much because just as he's getting together enough to remember he does have a job to finish, a hand job at that (and he snickers to himself in his head, it'd be really inopportune to bust that one out loud), Geno's eyes are kind of flickering and rolling back in a most recognizable manner.
Geno's definitely the guy who passes out after, and Sid's actually kind of becoming one, too, so he really wants to be in his bed right now and not on his couch, and as usual, Geno seems to get that. He's standing and offering a hand up to Sid, who makes a tortured face as he looks at the wet patches on each of their shorts.
"Grown ass men we are now. Still getting off like teenagers."
"You like it." Geno's so smug all of the time. Sid knows from smug.
Laundry room pit-stop, naked walk to the master bedroom, this is familiarish territory now, and in the morning Geno is pretty much the same as any other, so Sid chalks up the weirdly gentle behavior from the day before to a new experiment from Geno. He likes to teach Sid things. Sid asks if he wants toast with his coffee because there really isn't anything else to say, and then it's off to hear that it's still gonna be awhile before he's cleared for any real play.
It happens a few more times here and there, but not all the time and not even all that often, and Sid almost never sees it coming, but all of a sudden Geno will be this kind of smooth, gentle guy in the bedroom, and while he's not all limbs and enthusiasm like he was at 20 now, this is just not their usual fare. Normally, it's a disturbing amount like the way they play, and it's as complimentary in the bedroom as on the ice, like duh.
On a side note, Sid misses playing with Geno as much as he misses playing hockey.
how it is
Sid is cleared for contact for the second go round on March 6 and back in play nine days later. His return is two games before a shootout loss against the Flyers that snaps an eleven game winning streak, and after that game, he meets the fairly critical questions with his usual calm deflection and is the same Sid he's ever been.
And Geno stops sleeping with him.
It's not a spoken thing or anything, but they're definitely not sleeping together or not-sleeping together or anything like any of those things.
They manage two more wins before dropping one to the Sens, and then they lose enough to comfortably cement 5th in the conference instead of the run for division champs they could have made or the fourth they should have at least had over Philadelphia. The only thing worse than this was when Sid couldn't play hockey at all, and at least then, he and Geno were still fucking, and he'd had that.
After another (another) loss to the Flyers, Sid turns on Geno with just about the blackest eyes he's ever had and demands to know why Geno is fucking with their game. It's a pretty accusatory and inaccurate thing, but Sid doesn't know why they're losing and why they're not fucking, and he's not the only one who thinks the two might be connected.
(Turns out their teammates know way more about dude on dude sex than anyone ever could have imagined, and Sid wonders who's the brave guy doing the research. He bets it's Duper. Married or not, that dude is kinky.)
Their teammates also think their locker room ceiling is quite interesting, by the looks and sounds of things, but Geno is looking right at Sid. He doesn't look like he's going to punch Sid in the balls, which is surprising given the circumstances, but he also doesn't look like he's going to invite Sid home with him. He grips Sid's shoulder and asks a question half in Russian about the good of the team because he's an asshole who knows Sid still hasn't sat down with the Rosetta Stone and only knows enough to not even call it getting by, sometimes asking Geno about specific phrases and et cetera.
Geno leaves right then, it's an anticlimactic dramatic exit, and Sid's teammates are looking him with a mixture of the urge to beat him to a pulp mixed with a tinge of …is that pity, just, really? That's kind of new, actually, this mixture of faces, not one he's used to.
"What?" Sid's voice is flat and pretty good at brooking no argument, so there isn't any, just a bunch of angry Penguins slamming equipment around and making noises about all of the alcohol in the world. Sid doesn't want to go, and he's not really invited anyway. He's really fucking mad and confused, and he just wants to know what the fuck is going on.
They win out the season, including the crucial pre-playoff match with Philly before the Cup rounds start, but things are tense in ways everyone feels and puts their fingers all over in ways that are none of everyone's business, really. Sid hates the way he's feeling, like he's still losing, and in the four days between the last regular season game and the first quarterfinal, he thinks about those times that Geno was gentle.
He texts Gonch for the simple reason that he's not Ovechkin and asks what does miliya moy mean because he's pretty sure that's one of the things Geno would say in his Russian voodoo nuzzling mumblings. Then he gets in the shower and jerks off pretty hastily, just flashes of Geno through the steam are enough, and…they're enough.
The reply from Sergei is i will break you. Well, that settles that, then. Sid's about 87% sure Geno wasn't threatening a) him or b) his concussion with the nuzzles. He's relatively certain he can fix this.
But he isn't actually sure it is. Geno has girlfriends. Geno bangs randos on road trips.
Except maybe he kind of hasn't in a while that Sid's noticed, and…Sid would have noticed. That's just the truth about these days.
He needs to be totally sure, though, this isn't just some tiff, this is some star-crossed shit with potential for going Hatfield and McCoy. (Sid has this thing for American trivia; sometimes he's so Canadian it hurts to look at him.)
So he does call Ovechkin because they're friends now or something, and he can do that. Sid answers Alex's "helloooooo Dr Cosby" (because Alex also has this thing for American trivia, and he thinks the similarity between Cosby and Crosby is hilarious) with "what does miliya moy mean?" and all he gets out of Ovechkin for a good two and a half minutes is his distinct laughter.
"Sidney, your Russian terrible. Never try again, not for Evgeni or old regime. He like your Canadian fine." He drops his voice a little then, turns the merriment a few shades down, and says, "It mean my sweet. Very tender name. When Zhenya call you that?" Geno's own tender name, Sid never tries to say it, though, he doesn't want to fuck it up.
Months, Sid thinks, it's been so long, and then he's hanging up on Alex's questions, ever louder and more hysterical, and he doesn't even care that every Russian that plays hockey on this Earth will know about this call before morning, and probably the Malkins, and he just really doesn't care.
Sid can fix this. He just…has to figure out how. It's not like he can just walk up to Geno and say, I don't want this to be about the team, either, fuckhead, it's his heart and Geno's or whatever and so, so much pride on the line here that everything about this has to be right. Perfect.
Whatever, Sid's used to working towards that.
It has to be about Geno, and then it clicks - it has to be about the way this thing with Geno has changed him.
Fine. "Yes because it totally has," Sid says to himself, and his use of Geno's favorite space-filler while he comes up with the right English doesn't even occur to him.
--
Sid just kind of…relaxes. He's been getting ever, ever better at being one of the guys his whole career, he knows the jokes about the Sidbot, and he knows how true they can be, but this is a whole different kind of thing. They drop two to Philly straight off, blowing some leads and brawling for respect away, but Sid stays sort of languid and open.
After the truly spectacular spectacle in Game 3, Sid drops his usual façade with the press and tells them exactly how he feels about Voracek.
"I don't like him." He's just so angry. "I don't like anyone on their team." It doesn't really matter what the questions are, this is the thing he's going to say. "What was I supposed to do, pick up his glove for him?"
The response to that is so ridiculous that Sid actually scoffs on camera. "Skate away? Yeah, well, I didn't that time, so."
Geno smiles at him after the mob departs, and Sid feels something inside of him unfurl.
Yes, yes, yes.
Then the reality of being three games down finally hits them all, and something…happens. Something like scoring ten goals. Sid even scores one with his ass. He feels a little bad that takes away Geno's hat trick, but whatever, it's time his ass got the respect it deserves, and if that means a scoring a goal, then so be it. They are on fire.
In Game 5, Sid decides to let it all hang out, balls to the wall. It's still an elimination game. He adopts his own twist on Geno's style of abandon and just goes. He feels great, light in a familiar way, even when it turns out to be maybe the strangest night he's ever played on the ice.
"Five hits on Crosby", that's not the new part, but one of them being fairly violently if unintentionally delivered by Geno, and one of them being delivered by a goal post, that's not one he can remember happening like this before. They win, and it's mostly on Flower, and Sid gives him his dues all over the place after the game.
Geno just keeps looking at Sid, and finally he reaches out, his hand hovering just above Sid's shoulder. His face is open with concern, frustration, and something Sid's now pretty sure is kind of love, and he says quietly, "Did not mean to hit you."
God, Sid knows that. Though maybe he'd've deserved it. He deserved the wake up call.
The visitors' ceiling in Philly commands just as much interest as their home in Pittsburgh from what Sid can tell.
"You, maybe not. The goal, though, it had it out for me for sure." Sid turns his face just the slightest bit towards Geno's hand, still hovering, and presses his lips to his thumb, it's just what's closest.
"You break goalpost heart too?" And even though Geno's smiling, it still stings a little bit, and Sid most definitely deserved that, too.
There is a collective sigh of relief and a resumption in the win glow chatter, still thick with another looming elimination though, and Sid lifts his hand to thread through Geno's very much like that other time.
"Home, time to go."
Geno grins widely and tugs Sid towards the door. "First you apologize to goalpost, then we go back to the Pitts."
notes: thanks to sometimesalways for being the text/DM recipient of this in its original ongoing format, thanks to deepsix for getting me started when the pornblock came, and thanks to everyone who stickholmed me into crosby. i hate you all.
also here at ao3.