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fourthlinefic · 6 years

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Diversions IV

It’s been 84 years,,,

Sid should have known that something was up when Kris invited him round for lunch straight after practise. Usually, he gave Sid at least a day’s notice of any social engagement. If Sid had taken time to think about it in the sudden recalibration of his day, he would have realised that it was one of the places that Kris knew that they wouldn’t be interrupted by cameras or any of the five guys who had ‘emergency’ keys to Sid’s back door.

He was halfway through a ham and salad sandwich (on rye, no mayo) when Kris sprung his trap. But by then, he already had an Alexander in his lap and nowhere to run.

“So,” Kris started, spearing a cherry tomato with his fork. “How are things with you and Jamie these days?”

“Is this- is this is an appropriate topic for little ears?” Sid said, nodding at Alex's dark head. He didn't appear to be listening, instead straining across the kitchen counter to try and reach his juice cup. Sid handed it to him and got a broad smile in return.

“Who's Jamie?” Alex asked, after he'd taken a long pull of juice.

“Just a friend of Sid's. You met him at the rink remember?” Kris said. Alex shrugged. “Hey, why don't you go find mama, eh? See what she's up to.”

“Why?”

“Because me and Sid need to have a chat about some grown up things.”

“What sort of things?” Alex asked.

“Things for grown ups,” Sid said, hoisting him under his arms and depositing him gently on the floor. He and Kris watched as he toddled off, though at nearly five years old, you couldn’t really call him a toddler anymore. Kris found he never felt older than when he noticed how big the kids were getting. He turned back to Sid.

“So. Jamie.”

“I told you before,” Sid sighed, taking another bite of sandwich. “We’re just messing around. It’s just fun. And none of your business.”

Kris wrinkled his nose at Sid. He would have thought that at thirty years old, someone would have taught him not to talk with his mouth full. “I mean, it kind of is my business since you started up with a teammate. And no offence, Sid, but,” he paused, because Sid was right. This was not a conversation he wanted being overheard by little ears. He cast a quick eye around and dropped his voice anyway, because you never knew. “But you're kind of a slut, and not everyone is used to the Sidney Crosby Treatment.”

“That’s not fair,” Sid frowned. “It’s not like I’ve had much of a chance at dating long term, y’know?”

And maybe Sid had a point, except Kris knew his friend, and he knew that Sid felt no remorse at his perpetual single-hood. Kris sighed. “I’m just trying to look out for you, Sid.”

“I know, bud,” Sid smiled. “And in my defence, you were there when I swore off Seguin. And the thing with Giroux doesn't count, we were in Prague.”

“I was there the last time you swore off Seguin, but you say that after every Dallas game,” Kris pointed out. Sid glared at him, and Kris stared back. He should be glad he wasn't bringing up his history with Ovechkin, or Weber, and he was pretty sure Taylor Hall was involved at one point. Sid sighed resignedly and shrugged.

“It’s different now. He’s got this regular thing going on with Benn,” he said, wrinkling his nose at the thought of exclusivity.

“You know, most people would call that a healthy, monogamous relationship, Sidney.”

“No, because then that would mean me and Jamie are in a relationship.”

Kris blinked. “I'm sorry, What?”

“Having sex exclusively with one person doesn't mean you're in a relationship,” Sid said with a shrug, and maybe if it was anyone else saying that, Kris would have been inclined to agree with them. Except.

“No no no, wait. No. You're sleeping only with Jamie?”

“I mean, it's not like I have many options these days. Most guys are either too young or married,” Sid shrugged. Kris sighed, rubbed his fingers against his temples. He had long ago come to the realisation that Sid was a special kind of emotionally emancipated. He had accepted that. It was just a Sid Thing, like so many other Sid Things. But Jesus, did he worry about him sometimes.

“That is so far from the point I'm trying to make here, Sid. When was the last time you were seeing only one guy?”

The long pause before Sid could answer would be enough to make his mother weep. It nearly made Kris weep. Just when he thought he was going to have to spell it out for him, Sid’s eyes suddenly flashed with realisation. He put his sandwich down on his plate, and blinked at Kris.

“Fuck. We’re dating.”

Sid eyed his phone as it started buzzing along his kitchen counter. Flower's grinning face beamed up at him, the top of Estelle’s head just visible in the frame of the photo. The ache of Flower’s drafting wasn’t as painful as when it was fresh, not since Flower had found a decent phone plan, but Sid couldn’t help the half sigh that escaped him before picking up his mobile.

“Whatever Kris told you, it's a lie,” he said as he put him on speaker, and Flower's laugh crackled down the line. Sid felt his own mouth twitch upwards in response. It was still so easy to fall into the familiar patterns of chirper and chirpee, the distance doing little to diminish Flower’s ability to verbally destroy Sid any chance he got.

“Hello to you too, Sidney.” Flower said. “I hear I should congratulate you? That you're finally growing up?”

“Don't you guys have better things to do than gossip about my love life?” Sid asked, going back to stirring the chili on the stove. He'd remembered to leave out the bell pepper this time, how Jamie had picked all the pieces out and left them on the side of his plate. And okay, yeah. He could see how maybe this whole thing had turned into dating.

“Sid, you know you're the most interesting part of all of our lives,” Flower said, and Sid could still pick out the teasing edge in his voice.

“Duper’s maybe,” Sid allowed, smiling at Flower's snort of laughter. “You and Kris should still be thinking about hockey.”

“Well the thing is, Sidney, we actually do have interests outside of hockey unlike-”

“How am I an interest outside of hockey?” Sid demanded. “I am about as hockey as you can get. I am literally dating a hockey player.”

“Aw, you said the D word!” Flower cooed and Sid seriously considered just hanging up on him. “We only gossip because we care. I’m just mad I’ve had to hear about all this second hand from Tanger. What’s he like?”

“Tanger? Uh, he’s about six foot, very pretty, great ass. Spills all my secrets to the French-Canadian mafia.”

“Sid…”

“Oh, you mean Jamie. Yeah, he also has a great ass.”

“Is he good to you?” Flower asked, and he sounded so concerned and exasperated and fond, all at the same time that Sid couldn’t help but feel a little bad for being such a dick about the whole thing. He turned the heat down on the chilli so that he could turn his full attention to Flower.

“He’s great, Flower. He’s very sweet and thoughtful. And he gave me his instagram password.”

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ here. What’s up?”

And this is what Sid loved about Flower. Kris and Olli treated this whole thing like something with an expiry date, something that Sid was going to get bored of and drop as quickly as he had picked it up. And Sid couldn’t blame them really. A precedent had been set years ago, a pattern that had been traced over and over. So he couldn’t blame them for being more concerned with Jamie’s heart than his own. But Flower had never put up with Sid’s love ‘em and leave ‘em outlook on life. As much as Sid claimed he hated it, hated the judging eyes of his friend, he knew that Flower just wanted him to be better. It mattered to him what Sid’s heart was going through.

“I dunno,” Sid sighed. “He’s just young, and probably way better to me than I deserve. I just can’t help feeling like it’s going to fall apart. And I don’t even know if we have enough of something to fall apart. Sometimes I feel like it’s just sex, but then I look at him and I just feel. I don’t even know what I feel. It’s just, it feels good. And I’m probably gonna fuck it up.”

“I think you need to talk to Jamie,” Flower said after a second. “I know how much you hate that, but you need to figure out what you have here. I'm just glad you're moving on, you know?”

“Uh, no I don't know,” Sid said, caught off guard. “Moving on from what?”

“You and Geno. You had that whole thing-” Flower suddenly stopped, as if the line had been cut. There was a pause before, “you know what, it doesn't matter. Forget I said anything. What are you up to tonight?”

“I've got some guys coming over for food and PS4, but what do you mean me and Geno?”

“I just mean you were both really into each other for a while and nothing really happened and I don’t think you ever got over that. But now you’ve got Jamie, so it’s all good, right?”

“Wait, do you think I’ve never dated because I was waiting for Geno? Flower, me and Geno were always just friends.” Sid said, torn between laughter and horror. “He’s beautiful and he plays beautiful hockey, and yeah maybe I was a little bit in love with him once, but no. I sleep around because I enjoy it, not because I’m hung up on Geno. Which is some backwards fucking logic by the way.”

“Okay, okay!” Flower cried. “Crisse, sorry for thinking you have human emotions. So you're not in love with Geno, that's cool.”

Sid went back to stirring the chilli, pursing his lips when he felt it starting to stick to the bottom of the pan. Like his mother before him, Sid kept a bottle of cheap(ish) red wine open for cooking, and he slopped another half a cup into the pan.

“If I burn this chilli because of you, I'm flying down to Vegas to beat you up myself.”

“I'd like to see you try, Croz. You wouldn't be able to get past Reaver.”

“I think I could take him,” Sid hummed as he fished a tablespoon of out the cutlery draw to taste the chilli with. “I’ve seen him fight, could probably get in his head a bit.”

“And I’ve seen you fight,” Flower said, his tone of voice telling Sid exactly what he thought of his attempts at dropping gloves. “So, you’re not in love with G. Are you in love with Jamie?”

Sid almost choked on a mouthful of chilli. “Oh for-”

“Joking, I'm joking!” Flower cackled. “Man, I wish I could have seen your face.”

“You’re so fucking annoying,” Sid muttered, and swore when he noticed that he’d spilled chilli down his shirt. That Flower had made him spill chilli down his shirt. “I’ve gotta go change, and the boys are gonna be here soon. Can we talk later? Properly?”

“You just want to get out of talking about feelings,” Flower said, and then steamrolled over Sid’s protests. “No, I get it, you don’t want to talk to your best friend about the things that are most important to you. You’d rather talk to Mr Degrassi. Yeah, talk to Tanger about that.”

“Okay, I’m hanging up now,” Sid warned, his finger hovering over his phone’s screen. “If you have anything nice to say, now’s the time to get it in.”

“Have a good night, Sid. Be good to your man, eh?”

“I’ll try. And I’ll see you around.”

“See you in the fourth round, baby,” Flower laughed, and Sid hung up on him with a smile.

#hockey rpf #big rig n sid #sidgeno #ish #sc #kl #maf #my writing #lots of feelings being had

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rain-drop-sky · 6 years

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Do you know Sid? (Part 2/?)

First off, thank you so much for all the love that’s been shown to my first attempt at hockey rpf fic! Y’all are so kind and wonderful :) Sorry about the delay for this chapter - I struggled a lot with how I wanted certain events to be conveyed and actually wrote around 4 different versions of this chapter. Hopefully this doesn’t disappoint.

Part 1

Sid hums as he checks the dough. It has been a long hard year getting Harbour Bakery up and running. So much time and money was spent on negotiating, cashing in on favours, researching, renovating, and hiring. Not to mention packing up his life and starting over in a brand new city where no one knew who he was.

“Are you being emo again, old man.” Olli chirps from where he’s icing a cake for little Maria Wheeler’s sixth birthday. Sid laughs. Well, a new city where almost no one knew who he was.

But it was all worth it. Despite having been open for only a little over three months, reviews have been excellent so far and they are slowly building a decent fanbase and steady flow of clientele. Sid goes to take out the last batch of cookies for the day when Conor pokes his head through the door.

“Hey Sid? Geno’s back and is asking for you up front.” He smirks and gives his boss a thumbs up.

Olli laughs loudly but Sid smiles and steps away from the ovens. “Okay, could you take out the cookies for me and set them out to cool? Thanks.” He pushes through the door and the smile drops off his face as he gets a good look at one of his new favourite customers leaning against the cash register.

“Oh my God, what happened to your face Geno.” Sid blurts out.

Geno looks up, surprised, and reaches up to touch his cheek and hisses. He had forgotten about the neat row of stitches there, a remnant of an earlier capture and interrogation of a double agent who thought he could get away selling information on the Lemieux family.

“Is nothing, little accident at work.” He reassures Sid.

Sid looks at him dubiously but lets it go with a lingering look. “Well, good thing you got here before closing, I nearly sold out of all the bulochki.” Geno perks up despite wincing internally at Sid’s heavy Anglo-accented pronunciation.

“Look so good Sid!” He cheers as Sid pulls out two sweet sticky poppy seed buns. He feels a rush of soft affection as Sid pushes over the plate and ducks his head with a small smile. He takes a deep breath. “Sid, was wondering if you free--” A loud door slam and jangling chimes interrupt him.

“Is this it? Is this the famous Harbour Bakery we’ve been hearing about all week? It must be, Geno’s over there.” carols a mischievously grinning dark haired man with a soul patch while holding the front door open. Another dark head, this one with long locks, pops up behind the other with an equally cheeky wide grin and drags the other man forwards to squeeze up beside Geno and beam at a bemused Sid.

“Hi Geno. And you must be Siiid?” He dragged out Sid’s name cheerfully before hip checking a disgruntled Geno to the side and sticking out his hand. “Hi, I’m Kris. And that’s Marc-André.” He points with his thumb over his shoulder.

“Hi! We’ve heard so much about you and your bakery from Geno that we just had to come see where all the delicious food he brings in comes from.” Marc-André smiles and shakes Sid’s hand while Kris tussles with Geno off to the side.

“What are you doing here?” Geno hisses at his soon-to-be-dead friends. “Go away, no one likes you, you smell bad. Out!”

“Aw, Geno, are you going to turn away your friends? And here I thought you were introducing new customers for me.” Sid lets out a small goose honk giggle.

Two pairs of brown eyes zoom in on him. “You sound different.” Kris says.

“You sound right.” Marc-André follows.

“And you two sound Québécois, is this now a grand Canadian expat reunion?” Sid muses.

Marc-André’s mouth drop opens. “You said Québécois!” He says joyfully before grabbing Sid’s face and giving him two quick pecks, one on each cheek.

“FLOWER!” Geno shouts, outraged.

“This is how we say hello, Geno, stop being an uncultured swine. Parlez-vous Français, mon ami? Do you speak French my friend?” Marc-André coos while petting Sid’s hair fondly. Kris holds Geno back with one arm around his waist while furiously texting with the other. Sid’s eyes crinkle as he holds back laughter.

“I’m sorry to say that I’m one of those terrible Canadians who isn’t really bilingual.” He apologizes. “I do okay with my listening comprehension though.”

“Ah, well, we can’t all be perfect.” Marc-André sighs. He gives Sid a one-armed hug and grins at him. “Call me Flower! You’re Canadian and a baking god so we’re going to be wonderful friends. All my friends call me Flower.”

“I’m Tanger.” Kris’ reply is slightly raspy as Geno finally got him in a headlock and is dragging him towards the till.

“Geno, no, you’re going to scare away my other customers.” Sid scolds gently. The other three jolt guiltily and look around and see a few tables eyeing them warily. Geno immediately lets go of Tanger and starts to apologize when a muffled “Sid? Sid!” is heard through the kitchen door.

Sid frowns and disappears back into the kitchen. Geno, Tanger, and Flower look at each other, shrug, and scuttle around the pastry displays and poke their heads through the swinging door.

“Olli? Conor? What’s going on?” Sid strides over to the propped open back door where he can see his two employees huddled outside on the ground.

They look up and Sid sucks in a breath as he sees what they’re crouching around. A small cardboard box filled with tiny mewing kittens, so young their eyes still haven’t opened. “Where did they come from?” He asks, crouching down to inspect them.

“I heard them crying when I was throwing out the garbage.” Conor volunteers. “I don’t know how long they’ve been out here though.”

“At least it’s not raining.” Olli mutters as he lightly strokes the head of a ginger kitten. “Then this would really be some terrible rom-com cliché.”

“Because that’s really our main concern here.” Sid responds dryly. They all turn around at a strangled “Oh my God, kittens” and see Geno rushing over towards them while Tanger and Flower sigh.

“Who are you?” Olli says Geno carefully lifts up one kitten, whispering gentle nonsense as he carefully inspects its tiny limbs.

“That’s Geno.” Sid supplies. “Those two are his friends, Flower and Tanger. Guys, this is Olli, my assistant, and Conor. He works up front.”

“Someone abandoned kittens on your doorstep eh?” Flower sighs. “Don’t worry, Geno really does know what he’s doing. He rescues a lot of strays.”

“Sounds like Sid.” Olli shakes his head. “Conor here got his bike stolen not long after he started working here and looked so sad Sid would drive home the big mooch every day until he got a new one.” Olli smirks when Conor squawks indignantly.

“I’m not a mooch! You’re a bigger mooch, you still live at Sid’s! Sid says you keep saying you’re going to move out but it’s been more than a year since you guys moved down to Pittsburgh.” They start shoving each other, laughing.

“Children, please.” Sid sighs.

“Need round the clock care.” Geno interrupts firmly, laughter colouring his words. His insides feel gooey when he looks over and sees Sid shushing the tiny kittens and tucking his apron around them as a makeshift blanket. Under the cover of noise, he hooks a finger gently in Sid’s rolled up sleeve. “Hey Sid,” he starts. “Do you think--”

Bzzt. Bzzt.

He looks down at his pocket with a frown.

“Hey G, it’s work.” Tanger’s voice is serious as he looks at his own phone.

Geno stands up and pulls out his phone.

Found the two extra rats Madri confessed about. Come back now. M wants all leaks eliminated tonight.

“Geno?”

He looks up and sees Sid standing, cradling the box of kittens to his chest and a slight curl to his lips. He looks so sweet and gentle. Soft. A regular civilian. Geno’s gut twists as he thinks about his job, a job he’s very good at and likes, and what it will seem like to someone like Sid. What he will seem like to Sid. His gut ices over.

“Geno? You were saying something?” Sid’s brow furrows.

“Nothing, sorry. Um, have work thing, need to go fix.” He waves vaguely only to remember he’s still holding a sleeping kitten. “Oh. Here, give me kittens.”

“Don’t you have work? I can bring them to a shelter.” Sid responds.

“No, most shelters can’t take care of kittens properly.” Shit, he has to complete those hits tonight though.

Flower steps in. “Let me take the kittens. Vero’s friend rehabs abandoned kittens and strays so she can take care of them. Vero is my wife,” he adds for Sid’s benefit. “You should come over sometime, have dinner with my family. An ‘A Canadian Has Been Found!’ party.” He laughs.

“You can meet my family as well as Duper and Kuni and their families. They’re also Canadian.” Tanger adds, clapping Flower on the shoulder. “We need to head out now.” He murmurs into Flower’s ear. He punches Sid in the shoulder gently. “Good to finally put a face to all the swooning we hear all the time.”

“Tanger.” Geno growls.

Flower juggles the box of kittens as he pulls out his wallet. He hands a card over with Marc-André Fleury, IT, Lemieux Intl. printed on it. “My personal number is on the back.” Flower explains. “Call me and let me know when you’re free. I’m serious about the Canada dinner!” He waves and walks away briskly with Tanger, following Olli around the building.

“Swooning, eh?” Sid looks up at Geno with a teasing smile.

“Sid.” Conor slips a small waxed paper bag into his boss’ hand and disappears back into the bakery with a smile.

Sid looks down and laughs quietly. “Here. Something sweet before you get back to work.”

Geno peers into the bag and feels his resolve weaken at the sight of two fluffy bulochki. “Give me your number.” He can’t help blurting. Sid’s face goes pink. “New to town, yes? Come meet my friends. We have barbecue next week.” If Geno can’t date Sid, Geno will be the best friend Sid has ever had instead.

“Oh. Um, I still don’t know my new number and my phone’s inside.” Sid laughs awkwardly.

“Geno!” Tanger beckons urgently from the corner.

“Okay, wait. Here.” Geno paws through his pockets and gives Sid a matching business card. “My private cell on the back.” He calls over his shoulder as he hurries towards Tanger. “Call me!”

----

Later that night, Sid taps the card on the table as the Skype ringtone trills. Evgeni Malkin, Security Advisor, Lemieux Intl.

“Hey, Squid.” Jack grins at Sid. “It’s Saturday, so tell me about your week, you boring old fart.” He cranes his neck. “Is Olli there? Hey Olli!” He yells.

Sid jerks back“Shut up, he went out.” He laughs. “God you’re loud. And to think I missed you.” He smiles fondly.

Jack squints through the camera. “What’s going on, why are you smiling like that. Sid.” He warns jokingly.

Sid ducks his head. “So there’s a cute guy who comes basically everyday to the bakery,” he starts. “His name’s Evgeni Malkin but everyone calls him Geno…”

#sid/geno #SidGenoFluffFest #hockey rpf #Do you know Sid #my writing

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