#has sid ever talked about flower to nate?

[readingbythestreetlights]

something something nate’s mind automatically jumping to fleury when sid said “goalie”

[butterflyintochains]

Getting The Talk

Just a little TangerKarlsson thing, set roughly after 'Those Small Details' and 'Finding Out'. The team are incredibly protective over Tanger after all he's been through, so, upon learning of this supposed long term relationship he's been in. There is a step Erik must be put through before everyone moves forward.

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Erik is confused as hell right now, to put it lightly. He has no idea what Sid wanted him down at Cranberry for a day after the season ended. Things didn't go entirely to plan, but Erik has Kris, and that's all that matters. Kris, however, is probably in bed still, sleeping peacefully without him. Kris did briefly laugh and wish him luck when the text came, though. Still, Erik wanted to sleep in with his partner this morning, not have to drive down to the training rink for no good reason. He parks, huffs out an irritated breath, and heads inside. He first heads to the team's now cleared out dressing room. Dreading whatever is inside, he opens the doors, and enters the room, seeing basically half the team sitting at their stalls. ''Hi, guys, what can I do for you today?'' He asks happily.

Sid seems to be in business mode today, because all he says is. ''Take a seat, Erik.'' Oh, first names, this is serious. Erik could inquire further, but thinks better of it, and sits down at his stall. ''Okay, I'm sat, can I know why I've been pulled out of a warm bed at nine in the morning?''

Geno bluntly asks him. ''When did all this with Kris start?'' Okay... what the hell? Erik simply says. ''I've told you, Geno, the 2011 All Star Game, we agreed to be exclusive the following year. Why? Why is this important?''

Rusty asks, arms crossed over his chest. ''What about after our 2017 cup run? He was miserable, for a long time, too. What was that about?'' Ah, yes, his biggest sin in life, the 2017 fuck up of the millennium. ''I'm not proud of it, Rusty. I was angry we lost, took it out on the man I love, and we broke up. I hate myself for it still, I was a fucking idiot for it.''

PO, all but a son to them in spirit, asks. ''When did you two get back together, then?''

Erik allows himself a small smile, nostalgia for that night flooding in. ''Funny enough, the 2019 All Star game in San Jose. I guess the love was too strong, and we just... agreed to give things another go.'' Sid suddenly sits up straighter, looking thunderstruck. ''Wait, 2019? I was there! And, I found out about you two in january this year! How the hell did that slip by me?''

Erik chuckles, risking a jab at his new captain and brother-in-law. ''That's not our fault, Sid. We literally kissed in the bar that night, you were too busy talking to Flower and Nate to notice.'' Jeff asks, humoured by Sid's obliviousness. ''How did Flower know about you two so early?''

Geno remarks, examining his nails. ''Flower knows everything, Carts.'' That much is true, he is a goalie after all, and Kris' confidant. He's surprised Flower isn't here to grill him as well. Tristan pipes up, asking him. ''How serious is this thing between you and Kris?'' Erik furrows his brows. ''Tristan, we live together, we've been together longer than you've been in the NHL.''

Sid asks the big question, looking Erik in the eyes. ''What are your intentions towards Kris? Do you love him?''

Erik states, because this is as much a fact as grass being green. ''I love Kris more than anything in this world. I intend to make him happy, to support him, to stand by his side forever. I don't entirely know if I deserve him, but I love Kris. And, he loves me.'' Geno asks further. ''Would you ever hurt him again like you did back then?''

Erik shakes his head. ''No, I'd rather die than hurt him, Geno. I pushed him away once, I'm never doing that again.''

Sid nods. ''Good, he means the world to us, Erik. If anything happens to him, this entire thing falls apart. He's my brother, and I'll see no harm come to him.''

Erik swallows, throat dry from talking. ''He means the world to me too, Sid. Like I say, I'd rather die than do anything to hurt him.'' Finally, Marcus speaks up, asking. ''Has anyone ever tried to pull you away from him?''

Erik nods, that's not been exactly fun to navigate the last decade and a bit. ''Yeah, lots of people in this league. They tried, all of them failed. I'm his, he's mine, end of story.''

Sid remarks, chuckling a bit. ''Kris used to deal with that too, used to piss him off. He'd complain about being flirted with, always said he was taken, I never once thought he was taken by you.'' Well, who wouldn't flirt with Kris? Good to know most hockey players are switched on at least. ''That doesn't surprise me. I mean, look at him, y'know?''

A french-canadian voice from the doorway chimes in. ''Likewise, mon amour.'' The entire room looks to Kris, leaning against the doorway, hand on his hip, a massive smile on his face. Kris strides in, and sits at his stall next to Erik. It's only now that everyone can feel how powerful they are together, how deep this love runs. ''How did this all come to be, Kris?'' Rusty asks.

Kris shrugs, running his index finger down his nose. ''We were in practice, saw each other across the ice, and the rest is history.'' Erik laughs, nudging Kris on the shoulder. ''Then, this idiot does fastest skater backwards to impress me.''

Kris jokes, a very slight flush rising on his cheeks. ''You liked it, don't lie to me. Made Keith look stupid, I still won.''

Jeff asks them both. ''I still don't get it, why keep this a secret for so long?''

Kris says, indicating to Sid and Geno. ''They are why. We saw the media attention that Sid and Geno get, how public it all was, and we wanted none of that. We wanted to be Kris and Erik: the men. Not Letang and Karlsson: the players.''

Erik adds. ''That's what we still want, really, I'd have hated to live this last decade in a fishbowl.''

Geno nods, and agrees with them. ''The media hasn't been fun, that's for sure. I love you, Sid, but the press are dumb.'' Sid nods, they've got a point there. ''Yeah, I feel that too, G.''

Marcus asks Kris. ''How long had you been standing there?'' Kris says, grinning. ''Long enough. Kinda funny hearing you guys try to be intimidating, to be honest.''

Sid looks incredulous at the notion he isn't as intimidating as he'd like to be. ''What? You think I'm not intimidating enough?'' Kris cocks an eyebrow at his brother. ''Sid, last I looked, I lead us in penalty minutes this year.'' Everyone bursts out laughing.

Kris addresses the room as a whole. ''Look, boys, I know you love me. But, Erik and I are very happy together, we've been through a lot, long distance included. We're okay, we're settled, we're excited for what's to come.''

Geno asks, smiling when Erik takes Kris' hand in his own, and Kris rests his head on Erik's shoulder. ''Are you sure?'' Erik nods, and says, body now completely relaxed. ''We're sure.'' Sid looks at his best friend, usually so stoic, his body soft with comfort. They do fit together so well, and look so content together. ''Do you speak each other's languages?'' Sid asks, his Russian leaves a lot to be desired to be put lightly.

Erik nods. ''Yeah, I had Kris and Flower teach me french, I think I'm pretty good at it.''

Kris assures him. ''Your french is great, amour, trust me. Erik and Horny have taught me all the swedish I know.'' Erik says, lovingly praising him. ''You're the best student I've had, hjartat.''

Rusty asks, seeming a bit confused by that. ''Why? You two speak perfect english to each other.''

Kris simply states, lifting his head back up. ''That's what you do for the one you love, Rusty. Besides, we live between Montreal and Sweden in summer, so we need both.''

Geno asks Kris. ''So, that's why you and Horny stayed late after training all that time? He was teaching you swedish for Karl?'' Kris nods, smiling brightly. ''Wow.'' Geno says.

To make things even more surreal, Sully walks in, he must've known this meeting was happening today, because he just laughs. He's known the core for a decade now, and is deeply in tune with all their weird quirks. But, as if he's a father interrogating his child's significant other, he asks Erik and Kris. ''So, this is you two, then? I have two power couples to coach now?''

Kris nods, and says. ''Yeah, pretty much.'' Sully nods, and adds something to his phone. ''Good to know.'' He leaves after that.

After the little meeting is over, the assembled Penguins head to Kris and Erik's place for lunch together. They eat outside so as to enjoy the beautiful spring day. Kris is deep in conversation with Tristan, PO, Rusty, and Carts. Sid says to Erik. ''You know, grilling aside, I could not be happier for you two, you know? I've known Kris for so long, but I've never seen him more at peace.''

Erik smiles, and looks over to Kris again, they share a look. ''Thank you, Sid. It's not been easy for us, but here we are.'' Geno says, backing Sid up. ''You deserve each other, Karl.'' Erik nods, he doesn't say anything, just gives his concerned partner an assuring nod. They'll be okay, and now they know they've got the entire team behind them.

That night, Erik slumps down in bed next to Kris, and says. ''Y'know, that might just have been the weirdest day of my life since I got here.'' Kris laughs, plugging his phone in for the night, and taking one of his night time blood thinners. ''Wondered when that was coming, I was hoping for earlier in the year, but now was as good a time as any, I suppose.''

Erik shuts his bedside light off, and lies down, still pondering what the hell happened today. ''Was it like that when Sid and Geno got together?''

Kris lies down himself. ''Kinda, Mario took Geno aside for a talk, and Gonch did the same with Sid. It wasn't the whole team, though. All I remember was them both coming back looking exactly as you do now.''

Erik chuckles, wishing he was around for that, but it would've been before he was drafted if his math is correct. ''Good to know this is a family thing. Might get Hedman to give you the talk, actually.'' Kris laughs, and kisses Erik on the lips, running his fingers through Erik's growing hair. ''I look forward to that.''

They finally get to sleep together, one of the strangest days of their relationship finally over.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just something short and sweet for this plot bunny that's been living in my head for a week or so now. With some slight references to some past events, and plenty of found family dynamics involved. My TangerKarlsson magnum opus will forever be 'Rival Captains In Love' but, i think this has been fun to write in a different way.

Anyway, enjoy!

necessary tag: @tylerpitlicktruther

[71tenseventeen]

Take My Hand (Take My Whole Life Too)-27

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26

Warnings for sexual content, male pregnancy, implied homophobia, non-hockey Sid. Sid and Taylor’s ages have been altered to fit the story.

I literally have a team of betas at this point and I could not do this without them. Much love and so much credit to @ljummen, @visionshadows, @icosahedonist and @queen-alia for taking on different parts of this. 

New update, finally, below the cut. 

Things begin to feel even more settled as November progresses. Sid loves the comfort of his routines and the more established they are, the more secure he feels. 

He gets a feel for Geno’s nutrition requirements and starts cooking several times a week. He fusses sometimes, always worried that Sid will push beyond his limits. But Sid knows him better now, understands why those fears are there and how to convince Geno that he’s truly okay. 

He also starts spending a little more time with Vero, hanging out with her and the kids once or twice a week for what she jokingly calls parenting practice runs. It’s obviously a relief for Vero, more than anything, who is a lot closer to her due date than he is to his and he really doesn’t mind. He enjoys his time with them, even if it’s not so much practice as sitting on the floor while Estelle and Scarlett serve him pretend tea and adorn him in toy princess jewelry and pirate hats.

He and Geno get together with Flower and Vero for a quiet American Thanksgiving dinner on an off day a couple of days after the actual holiday. He’s spent enough time with them that he’s comfortable now. There’s none of the anxiety he feels when he goes to watch Geno practice, where he usually stays tucked away to himself, trying to avoid other players and staff. 

Sidney doesn’t think much of it when Geno is later getting home from practice than he’d expected the next day. As captain, media and other responsibilities often pop up that keep him longer than anticipated so being late on a normal day isn’t all that unusual. 

But today isn’t a normal day. 

Sid has a checkup today and Geno has been adamant about being at as many appointments as possible. When his calls and texts go unanswered, Sid sets about getting himself ready, not really sure what to expect but hoping it’s just a misunderstanding. 

Sid watches the clock, fidgeting nervously as he tries not to worry because this isn’t normal. Geno would never miss a doctor’s appointment without at least a text. He waits as long as he can and is just about to walk out the door when Geno finally calls. 

He doesn’t offer a greeting, just says shortly, “Have to meet you there. Will be a little bit late.”

“Is everything okay?” 

“Fine Sid. I have to go. I see you there.” The connection ends and Sid is left staring at his phone with a sinking feeling in his gut. 

He can’t dwell on it now so he drives himself to the appointment, thanking any deity that will listen that his car actually started. 

Geno is late, bustling in near the end of the appointment looking stressed beyond measure and not quite meeting Sid’s eyes. 

In the parking lot he pauses long enough to mumble, “You tell me about appointment at home,” before he’s climbing in his car. He doesn’t pull away and Sid takes the hint, quickly getting into his own car and leading the way. Geno follows him the whole way home and it should be a comfort to Sid that Geno cares to do that but instead he’s filled with dread. He has no idea what could make Geno act this way but whatever it is can’t be good. 

It isn’t until they’re finally home, walking silently into the kitchen that Geno motions towards the breakfast bar. “Sit, I get us food. We need talk.” 

“I’d rather you just tell me what’s wrong,” he says, trying not to let his voice shake. 

“At least sit.” 

When Sid is finally perched anxiously on the edge of a barstool, Geno runs a hand through his hair before finally, finally meeting Sid’s gaze. “PR call me in to talk after practice.” 

Sid swallows hard. “Okay.” 

Geno sighs. “Family skate coming up. They say they think not good idea if you come.” 

“Oh.” It’s not surprising and Sid can’t figure out why it’s got Geno so upset. They’d already discussed family skate and decided that it is unquestionably too risky for Sid to go. “We already decided I’m not going so it’s not a big deal.” 

“Maybe.” Geno looks uncomfortable as Sid stares at him, confused, until he finally sighs again. “There more.” 

“Oh.” Sid swallows. 

Geno looks down at the counter. “Jen say someone in media see you at practice and ask about you. She say you Vero’s friend but she say if media notice you, ask about you then can be big problem if they realize you also at games.”

Sid’s heart sinks. “Right. So, no more practice for me then, eh?” 

“PR think it’s bad idea if anyone see you at practice or games now you showing more.”

Sid looks up, startled. “Games too?” 

“I’m sorry, Sid.” And he really does look it. “They say you can go but need to sit in private space, watch on TV feed.” 

Sid pushes up from his seat. “There’s not much reason for me to go then, is there? I can do that at home,” he says, trying not to sound bitter. 

Geno grabs his hand, pulling gently. “Am so sorry, Sid. I try hard, make them find better solution but this best they come up with.” 

It’s Sid’s turn to sigh. “It’s not your fault. This is just how it has to be.” 

Sid settles into his new routine of staying home pretty much all the time as a bitterly cold snap arrives in early December. He lies to Vero about the first game he misses but by the second she’s already clued in, probably by Flower. She’s due soon, decidedly short-tempered and Sidney has to talk her down from threats of arguing with management or dragging Sid bodily to the games anyway. When she offers to stay home and watch the next game with him he quickly shuts her down, not willing to let her miss out just because of his circumstances. 

A new tension settles over the house. It’s subtle but palpable—Sid can feel it in the way he awkwardly wishes Geno luck before games, no longer able to say he’ll be watching from the stands. He’s careful now, not to go anywhere with Geno other than to doctor’s appointments and Geno seems on edge, like there’s something simmering just below the surface. 

They still spend time together. It’s not at all unusual for Geno to bring home takeout or cook something to share as they settle in close on the couch. His hands always seem to be moving when they’re close like that—pulling Sid’s feet onto his lap and massaging the ache away or running fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, long enough now that it’s curling a little. Geno laughs when his featherlight touches tickle Sid, making him squirm. When he’s done teasing, he likes to rearrange them until he’s sitting behind Sid, wrapped around him and pulling him close. More often than not Sid drifts off like that, head resting against Geno’s warm chest while his fingers rub small patterns on his hip or belly. 

But Geno is quiet now, more than he ever has been before. He’s stressed and grumbly after games and practice now, sometimes even after wins and he fights twice in three games. Sid doesn’t have any idea how to approach any of that or even if he should. The one time he tentatively starts to ask, Geno shuts him down refusing to talk about it, though he does let Sid ice his bruised cheek even if he complains quietly about it. 

As pervasive as the tension becomes, their sex life doesn’t seem to suffer for it. If anything Geno seems more affectionate, holding Sid a little tighter as he kisses him senseless. His words seem sweeter as he talks quietly with the unique blend of Russian and English that he only uses when they’re moving together, close to the brink.

Even when they don’t have sex, he still cozies up behind Sid, fingers running over the swell of his belly as they banter quietly about the baby. Sid’s sure he’s never seen Geno happier than he is the night that he rests his face against Sid’s belly to talk to the baby and finally feels a kick in the form of a gentle thump on his cheek. 

As nice as those moments are, they are becoming more infrequent. December brings eight away games and the longest road trip of the season which means not only is Sid staying home most of the time, now he’s alone and feeling increasingly isolated. Vero’s due date is just days away and her mother showed up to stay through the birth of the baby. Sid’s happy for her that she has the extra support but it means he can’t visit the only friend he has that knows about the baby. 

By the last day of Geno’s road trip Sid is going stir crazy. When the weather forecast announces a major storm coming through the next day, Sid makes a beeline for his car. Normally he’d wait for Geno but if he’s going to get snowed in then he has to get out of the house, at least for a little while. 

At first he’s not sure where to go but as soon as he nears the highway inspiration hits and he heads downtown. He may not be able to do a lot these days but he can still treat himself to some comfort food. 

It’s a long way to drive for an omelet but he misses the warmth of the familiar diner, thinking fondly of the times he’d treat himself to his favorite breakfast after exams. As soon as he steps in he smiles, inhaling the enticing smells happily. It’s not too crowded and he gets a seat right away, looking over the familiar menu even though he already knows exactly what he’s going to order. 

He’s just placed his order when he hears the familiar voice ask “Sid?” and he looks up to find Nate, one of his buddies from school grinning down at him. 

“Nate, hey!” Sid returns the grin awkwardly. 

“I’m surprised you have time to sit and eat, what with all the times you’ve been ‘too busy’ to hang out.” His look is pointed but there’s a twinkle in his eye. 

Sid sighs, realizing he’s been caught and pushes his chair back just enough. 

Nate’s eyes widen immediately. “Whoa. No wonder.” 

Sid sinks back down, cheeks heating up but he smiles despite himself. “Yeah. No wonder, eh?” 

Nate nods towards the empty chair across from Sid. “You here alone? Can I sit?”

“Yeah, of course,” Sid agrees, even though he’s sure he’s about to get bombarded with questions. 

Nate surprises him though, giving him a long look after he sits before finally nodding with a smile. “Congratulations, Sid.” 

“Oh. Thanks.” He shrugs but it’s nice not to have yet another person treating this like a crisis. 

“How far gone are you?” 

“Due in March.”

“Wow. So do you like just have night classes now or…?” 

They settle into the conversation, only stopping briefly for Nate to order his food and then again when the food arrives to devour a third of their plates before they pick the conversation back up. Sid’s both surprised and relieved that, though they do talk about it a little, eventually the topic drifts away from the pregnancy. Nate takes the opportunity to catch Sid up on a little bit of gossip and chatter excitedly about his favorite classes and complain about his roommate’s annoying antics. 

His pregnancy doesn’t come up again until their plates have been cleared away. “So are you still in the same apartment? I could drop by sometime.” 

“Oh. No, actually I’m in Sewickley for now.” 

Sid immediately regrets the admission when Nate’s eyes widen comically. “Damn, you got a rich uncle there or something?” 

Sid knows it’s a joke but he drops his eyes anyway as he clears his throat. “Nah. Just staying with a friend.” 

Nate watches him carefully for a moment. “Baby daddy?” 

Sid shrugs and forces a soft laugh, knowing he’s already said too much. Luckily, Nate doesn’t press the issue. 

They make their way out of the diner and slog down the block through the cold mist that’s started to fall, parting ways at the corner only after Nate makes him promise to keep in touch. Sid finds himself smiling on the way back to his car, despite the abysmal weather. He’d almost forgotten what it was like, to just talk to a friend about everything and nothing and while he can’t bring himself to regret the pregnancy, he misses the simplicity of his old life. Still, he feels lighter than he has in a long time and vows to himself that he’ll make the effort to stay in touch with Nate. 

Despite the increasingly rainy, frigid weather, Sid’s good mood sticks with him almost the entire way home—right up until his car breaks down.

Part 28

[miriyos]

neighborly

Sidney has always put hockey first. After hockey, it was school.

He rode out his first heat alone in his room with only toys to ride through his heat with. After that, suppressants. It’s recommended to go off suppressants every three years. While Sid was still living at home, he did it. His second to last year of high school he was taken off suppressants. Jack Johnson helped him through his heat and Sidney regretted it immediately.

It’s been six years since Jack and Sidney has spent every year on suppressants since then.

There are times when he contemplates coming off them. For as many omega horror stories about going through heat out there, there more tempting stories. On many lonely Friday nights, Sid has sat at home watching omega porn. The target audience are alphas so of course it’s not accurate, but Sidney can’t help but be a bit jealous at the attention the omegas on screen get. How the alphas look like they want to drown in their omega’s scent. How the omegas drip at the single touch of a strong alpha.

Not all suppressants block out Sid’s omega scent but Sidney’s do. He let one boyfriend scent him but they broke up over an argument about suppressants. Not a huge loss. He’s since been able to work on his dissertation with little distractions so far.

His neighbor comes and goes often. Sidney’s lived in the same complex for two years and aside from a simple greeting, he hasn’t talked to his neighbor much. He heard from the mated couple upstairs that the guy’s name is Nate. The apartment has a slight hint of alpha pheromones with occasional omega undertones which tells Sid that Nate must spend a lot of time at his omega’s place.

On the rare times Sid sees Nate, he swears Nate has checked him out. Nate has a partner though, so Sid rules that out as unlikely. Most of the time Sid misses Nate coming or going. Only a fresh lingering scent tells Sid that his neighbor has returned.

Nate seems like a nice guy. He smells pleasantly of snow and fresh baked bread. Sometimes—only when he’s sure Nate isn’t looking—he’ll check the alpha out from behind. On lonely nights, instead of thinking of a faceless made-up alpha, Nate will come to mind. His broad shoulders and thick arms. It gets him through the night just fine.

Alphas are almost a dime a dozen. They’re everywhere. Back from when Sidney played hockey, he made friends with plenty. Most of them he lost contact with. One of them in particular, Sid will always joke about wanting to get rid of, but he’s always—well, most of the time—been grateful for Flower’s friendship. There are many exceptions that come to mind.

“Looks like lover boy is back,” Flower observes, spying obviously outside Sidney’s window.

“Well don’t stare at him then,” Sidney replies. He counts Flower lucky that he’s trying not to let their pasta boil over.

“You have an unmated alpha living across the hall from you, of course I’m going to stare if I see him. I want to see what kind of guy he looks like.” Flower lets the shutters close after learning nothing. Nate came up the stairs empty handed. “I’m protecting your virtue.”

“I’ve had sex before,” Sid says with a roll of his eyes.

Flower laughs. “Not very good sex.”

“I told you that in confidence!”

The laughing turns into cackling, even after Sidney throws a piece of boiling hot pasta at Flower’s face.

*

Teaching history to high school students was meant to be a source of funding to continue his schooling. After seeing his first set of seniors go, he can’t imagine the rest of his students will let him go easily.

Case in point, somehow his classroom during his free period has also become a hangout for his students to eat their lunch in. Sidney’s pretty sure that’s not supposed to be allowed but even after he��s kicked some of them out. They just keep coming back. A few of them, Sidney thinks Tanger sent down to his classroom.

What a traitor.

The bell ending lunch rings loudly, interrupting his own thoughts. The papers Sid had been trying to grade are half done, thankfully putting him ahead of schedule. He thought they’d never get done.

“Hey, Mr. Crosby, can I ask you something?”

Bracing himself, Sid looks up to Justin standing in front of his desk. The kid smells of nervousness which Sidney takes as a bad sign. Still, he’s a teacher meant to mentor these kids so he says, “Sure, what is it?”

“Have you ever been courted by an alpha before?” Justin asks.

Sid feel his ears redden. “Um,” he says lamely. He’s never been courted. Jack certainly didn’t court him and his ex, if he did court Sid, didn’t do a very memorable job. “Why do you ask?”

“There’s a g—omega that I’ve been trying to get to notice me. I don’t know what to do,” Justin explains.

“Just be yourself,” Sidney replies, smiling encouragingly.

Inwardly, Sidney wishes he could follow his own advice.

*

At age twenty-eight, it’s almost time that Sidney gets himself a mate. He wants one. It would be great to be married and mated by the time he’s thirty. He’s not getting any younger. He also doesn’t want to seem desperate. The single life treats him well despite him missing having a partner.

Tanger and Flower have tried to help. They’ve set Sidney up on a string of blind dates with men of various dynamics and professions. Most of the dates were not followed by a second.

Wrinkling his nose, Sid squints at the chicken scratch in front of him. The handwriting, even the name at the top of the page, is nearly unreadable. He’s thought about making typed essays mandatory but for now, it’s better that his students know how to write. Some kids, Sidney can tell, take advantage of spell check a bit too much.

For the time being Sidney’s saved by a few quick knocks at his front door.

“Hey, I know this is lame,” Nate says, standing in front of Sidney’s doorway, “but do you have any eggs I could borrow? I thought I had some but they expired, like, a week ago or something and I’m pretty sure they aren’t safe to eat anymore.”

Sidney holds his breath for a moment. Nate smells so strongly of alpha, like he’s about to go into a rut at any moment now. There’s an added hint of fresh grass after it rains in Nate’s scent that Sid doesn’t usually pick up on. He realizes he’s been staring a bit too long when Nate clears his throat.

“Is that okay?” the alpha asks, unsure. His socked feet are wearing Crocs that shouldn’t be attractive but Sidney’s instincts betray him.

“Yeah, sure, come inside,” Sidney replies. He opens the door wider for Nate to come inside. His apartment probably smells like Flower since twice a week—Friday and Sunday like clockwork—they go to the hockey rink and hang out at Sid’s place afterwards for lunch.

By the look on Nate’s face, he picks up on Flower’s scent instantly. “If it’s too late, I can wait outside, it’s no problem.”

“It’s fine. It’s just my friend, Flower. He thinks scenting my couch helps me, protecting my virtue and all that.” Sidney waves his hand offhandedly. The living room and kitchen connect so while he digs around in the refrigerator for his egg carton, he’s positive that Nate is still rooted at the doorway.

“So, not your mate?” Nate asks, looking around. The only decorations on the wall are Sid’s first hockey jersey in a shadow box and some family photos his mother brought up. Plus, the TV that he mounted on the wall, though Taylor tells him that a TV doesn’t count as a decoration.

“Nope, just a friend,” he replies. Sid sets the carton on the counter, opening it to see only three eggs left. It’s probably about time he goes shopping too. “How many do you need?”

“Two or three,” Nate says, finally moving from his spot. He has his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“Perfect, you can just take the carton with you then. I have three left,” Sid explains, handing it over.

Nate hesitates momentarily. “Are you sure?” Sid nods. “Thanks, I—I guess I owe you then.”

When Sid walks Nate to the door, he can’t help but get a bit closer to the alpha than usual. He typically keeps his distance from strange alphas, only Nate’s scent calls out to Sid. The back of Nate’s neck flushes red up to his ears.

There’s no omega scent lingering on Nate’s body like Sid is used to.

Not a great sign.

*

Sidney starts to see traces of Nate everywhere.

Nate looks tired the next time Sid sees him. The fresh grass smell is gone and so is the alpha’s rut, which Sid is thankful for. He doesn’t have super hearing but there definitely was a lot more noise coming from Nate’s apartment than usual. Not even the feeling of guilt could stop Sid from breaking out his secret stash.

With his bedroom door safely locked (he’s a bit paranoid, he knows) accompanied by his favorite video streamed through his TV from his laptop, Sid breaks out the toy his sister gave to him as a gag gift and gets comfortable. The present had been signed with Taylor’s name in Flower's distinct handwriting. He hadn’t noticed that at the time. It was his twenty-first birthday and being that his friends took him to Vegas against his better judgement, Sid was drunk. He’s always associated Taylor with the gift, and Taylor being too embarrassed to talk about her own brother’s sex life, has just let the misunderstanding continue.

One day, maybe someone will clarify the mixup but so long as Sidney is picturing Nate’s large hands wrapped around his wrists just as they had been curled around the egg carton, it won’t be today.

From being on the suppressants so long, Sid’s slick is irregular. It takes a lot of effort to get wet not in heat and even if he does get slick, it’s thicker than it should be.

The omega on screen is small, unlike Sidney. So much that the alpha almost has him completely covered with his body if not for their height difference. The omega wriggles around, pushing at his alpha until the larger man is placed between his thighs. There’s corny dialogue Sid doesn’t pay attention to. His eyes are glued to the screen. The alpha spanks the omega’s thighs until it’s a light pink. After begging, the omega finally gets what he wants. The alpha spreads the omega’s cheeks and buries his tongue inside the omega’s soft place.

Using lube, Sidney almost looks as slick as the omega on the screen. He tries to mimic what’s on the TV, with how the alpha pets the omega’s hole with two fingers, stroking over the tight pucker. The fingers feel all wrong though. They’re his and Sid wants an alpha’s.

The alpha in the film is more attentive than most. If it isn’t pleasure meant for the alpha, it doesn’t happen for long. Foreplay, for the most part, is short. It lasts long enough for the omega to get wet, then it’s about dominance.

Sidney watches the video long enough so that he can come. A hand clamped over his mouth, just as the alpha holds the omega’s lips shut, Sid whimpers out his neighbor’s name.

The other side of his bed is cold, though Sidney still sleeps well, his thoughts going snow melting on the grass with bread cooling in his front window.

*

Jen is a sweet woman, which Sidney supposes is why he pays her so much for therapy. He used to see her more often while he was working on his graduate program. Now, he’s reduced his visits to whenever he feels particularly antsy.

“And why is it that you still feel like you can’t be intimate with an alpha?” she asks him. Her notebook is on her lap but for as long as Sidney has been watching her, she hasn’t written a thing down since their session started.

“I don’t know,” Sid confesses.

“In the past you’ve said that your friends Marc Andre and Kris have set you up on dates. Has that happened lately?” Jen clicks her pen, prepared to write something.

Sidney shakes his head. “After Mike I asked them to stop.”

Jen hums in understanding. “How are your suppressants? Still taking them?” Sidney hesitates answering. “I know I’m not your doctor, but I know that we both know that you’ve been on them too long. Would you say that it’s possible you’re afraid of what the effects will be if you come off them?”

“I suppose,” Sid replies, suddenly finding the string coming loose on his sleeve more interesting.

“There are a few agencies that specialize in heat and rut companions I can recommend to you. I can understand if your hesitance comes from spending your first heat in five years alone.” Jen reaches into one of her desk drawers, lined neatly with various business cards inside. She pulls one out and slides it across the table to Sid. “It wouldn’t hurt to consider it. They have people you can talk to there, too.”

Even tucked away in his wallet, the business card feels like a heavy weight in his pocket for the rest of the week. Sidney keeps it there until the end of the week. Sitting in front of his apartment in his car, he pulls it out along with his cell phone. He stares at the numbers until he has them memorized, then calls Flower.

*

It must be the phone call that has him paranoid. Being on suppressants for an extended amount of time has never really bothered him. They don’t give off too many health issues while on them. It’s more coming off of them cold turkey that gives omegas their problems. He has to see the doctor before he decides to stop using them. Lowering his dosage slowly is usually the safest bet.

The headaches and how tight his gut feels gets worse and worse every day. It doesn’t happen often, but he calls in sick.

One morning he casually forgets to take that day’s dosage.

Nate smells like concern the next time Sidney sees him. He tries not to think about it. If Sid hadn’t let Nate get to him, this wouldn’t be happening. Guilt washes over Sidney as the elevator doors close shut.

It’s not really Nate’s fault. Nate doesn’t know what’s wrong with Sid.

The doctor confirms that the process will be slow and just like Jen, he recommends Sid find a companion to help him through his first heat. He puts the second business card where the first one is.

*

The next time Nate is gone for a few days, Sid takes that to clear his head. He wants an alpha that hasn’t so much looked at Sidney in that way. He doesn’t know Nate’s last name or what his job is. The omega scent has come back so Sid can’t even be sure if Nate is single. Or gay. Maybe he’s bi. Sidney wouldn’t know that either.

He’s lusting after a guy he’s barely exchanged pleasantries with.

Sighing where he sits in his car, Sid looks out the window and glares at the rain. He’s already wet from running to his car from school so it wouldn’t be a big deal if he ran inside his complex. But it gives him an excuse to brood in his car by himself. It’s like the business cards are laughing at him, Sid notices. His wallet is soaked but the cards are dry. Now is a good time as any to call and set up an appointment. His doctor said they do those sometimes. They let clients come in and get assessed to see which one of their companions would work best. Sometimes they’re matched by personality, sometimes need, sometimes it’s whoever is available.

Looking up at his apartment window he sees the windows are dark. Next door, however, he sees a faint glow. After almost a full week, Nate is back.

Last minute, Sid decides that now is not the best time to make a phone call. He slides the cards back into his wallet the best he can without getting them as wet as the rest of his wallet then slides that back into his back pocket. The rain is as light as it’s going to get.

Gathering up his things, he makes a run for it. His shirt is completely drenched and for some reason the back of his legs from the knee down is dry. It’s somewhat of a struggle to get his key into the lock. Everything is slippery, not to mention, cold to the touch.

He doesn’t realize that his bag is open nor does he feel something fall out of it.

Two hours later, after a hot shower and a cup of tea, Sidney has himself wrapped up in a blanket planted on his couch. One of the many talent shows is on TV. He thinks of voting for the girl who can tap dance but his phone is charging in his bedroom. The next act is a magician, way more exciting so he stays put where he is. On screen, the man is gesturing to a door, spinning it around to show there’s nothing behind it and knocks.

The knocking is loud and continues even after the magician gestures to his assistant. Belatedly, Sidney realizes that it’s because there’s someone knocking on his actual door.

His blanket cocoon is hard to unravel himself from. Sid leaves it around his shoulders even as he unlocks his front door and swings it open. Somewhere in the back of his head he recalls Flower lecturing him on opening doors without looking through the peephole first, but that doesn’t mean everyone who comes knocking is a murderer.

Nate might actually be worse than a murderer. Maybe marginally better, but still worse than maybe a robber. Seeing Nate gets Sid’s stomach all tied up into knots.

“Hey,” Nate says softly as if he’s not sure if Sid wants to speak to him. “You dropped this earlier.” In his hand is Sidney’s school employee ID attached to a Penguin’s lanyard.

“Thank you. I didn’t even realize I dropped it,” Sidney says with a laugh. The ID card feels dry while the material of the lanyard is still damp.

“No problem.” Nate rocks on the balls of his feet, looking like he’s ready to flee at any moment but unwilling to go. “I don’t know if this is weird but, I got this for you.” In the plastic bag he had been holding at his side, he pulls out a carton of a half-dozen eggs up for Sid to see. “I owed you, from before.”

Sidney smiles before he even registers what he’s doing. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s no big deal, really. I finally went grocery shopping, figured I could pay you back this way.” Nate crumples the bag in his hands then shoves them in his pockets. It’s dark in the hallway aside from the living room light behind Sidney and yet Nate backs away a little.

Against his better judgement, Sid offers to let Nate come inside. Watching mindless TV is better with company, he says as an excuse. His living room is a mess, his kitchen table is covered in the contents of Sidney’s bag and wallet all laid out to dry. As Sid puts away the eggs in the refrigerator and turns on the coffee pot to make Nate a cup, he misses the way Nate’s eyes follow him across the kitchen.

He definitely doesn’t see Nate look at the business cards with dismay.

Against his better judgement, Sid shares his blanket with Nate instead of going to get another one. The rest of the show passes quickly. Even though it’s only nine o’clock, Sidney still falls asleep. Nate stays until the show ends and leaves as quietly as possible after contemplating through the next program whether or not he should wake Sid up.

The next morning, Sidney wishes Nate did.

*

Sidney can tell his lower suppressant dosages are working when the gym teacher tries scenting him. Not in a territorial way, but in a way that tells Sid the man is trying to find the source of the smell. When the man sees that Sidney is onto him, he quickly looks away, face zeroed in on his plate.

Flower is more unapologetically obvious.

“If I wasn’t already mated, I would be first in line to court you,” Flower says perched in one of the bar stools at Sidney’s kitchen counter.

“Thanks, I guess,” Sidney replies. Out of curiosity he can’t help but ask what his change in scent actually is. He feels pretty much the same, so even if his scent was muted for so long, it shouldn’t be all that different.

“Sweeter than when we were in college. Kind of like pie, the really fattening kind.” Flower leans across the counter to sniff Sidney more closely. His nose crinkles. “Maybe a little bit of vanilla too.”

“Fattening,” Sid echoes, frowning.

“Good fattening. Like that ass of yours,” Flower teases. “One day you’ll find yourself an ass man who accepts you and your scent. Which, speaking of, how long until you’re done with suppressants for good?”

Sid rolls his eyes. “Going off suppressants is only temporary. I’ll have my heat and as soon as the doctor says I can, I’ll go back on them again. I’m hoping by the end of the month I’ll be done.”

“Be careful,” Flower warns, serious.

“I know,”

*

Sid calls the agency Jen gave him first. He likes them. They give him a catalog of alphas available for booking the last week of the month with their pictures attached. He sees a few that he could deal with but none of them stick out. Even though they’re trained professionals, Sid can’t see himself spending his heat with someone he settled for—especially when he’s paying for it.

The second agency walks him through similar steps, though more detailed than the former. Along with their catalog to flip through, the woman leads Sidney into a conference room lined with closed cabinets on two of the walls. Any time Sid picks out a potential alpha, she unlocks the cabinets and offers Sidney a swatch of cloth drenched in that alpha’s scent. One alpha smells particularly good until Sid looks again at the man’s picture and sees that the guy and Flower could be brothers.

He has another week before the last of his pills are used up and though it’s cutting things close, Sid leaves the last agency without booking anyone. Over the weekend he can go back to the first to book one of the alphas his personality survey suggested.

The situation leaves Sid distracted. Usually, he’ll take the stairs but he finds himself pressing the button for the elevator. Considering their apartment building doesn’t have that many floors, the elevator works slow. He barely notices Nate coming up next to him.

“Are you okay?” the alpha asks, nudging Sid with his elbow.

Sidney blatantly, without thinking, looks Nate up and down. His skin is pink all over as if he’s scrubbed at it hard with a sponge. “Yeah,” he lies.

Nate frowns although he doesn’t call Sidney out.

The elevator doors ding as they open. It burns, the way Nate lets his hand hover at the small of Sid’s back to guide him into the elevator as if he doesn’t trust Sidney to do it himself. Nate even walks Sidney to his front door.

“I don’t want to be out of line but if there’s something bothering you, you can talk to me,” Nate offers.

“I’m okay, really,” Sid reassures his neighbor. “I’m just getting ready for my heat. It’s been a while.”

“Do you have someone to help you?” Nate asks innocently. The question of how long remains unsaid. Sidney isn’t sure he’s ready to explain this to Nate at all, let alone in the middle of the hallway.

“No,” Sid clears his throat awkwardly. “I was, uh, considering going through an agency. For a companion. A heat companion, for my heat.”

The redness in Nate’s cheeks is definitely from blushing now. “Oh? Have you—have you booked anyone yet?”

Sidney sighs, fiddling with his keychain. “I wish. None of their scents stuck out so I’m going back this weekend to look again.”

“Well, you know, I could help you out if you wanted. Scent is—I get it, it’s pretty important. If you’re okay with it, I’m sure I can clear my schedule,” Nate offers.

“Can I think about it? Let you know tomorrow, maybe?” Sid asks hesitantly. He should tell Nate no, he’ll hire a professional but Nate smells like good, like a reminder of home. Nate will think it’s rude of Sid to leave him hanging and say no. Then, he’ll go back to the agency to hire the first alpha with an opening.

Instead Nate smiles, reaching out to brush his thumb along Sid’s elbow. “Sure,” he replies.

Fuck, Sid thinks. Just fuck.

*

While Flower finds the predicament hilarious, Tanger has his serious dad-face on.

“Do you think you’re compatible?” Tanger asks.

Sid hesitates. “He doesn’t smell incompatible. He actually smells pretty good.”

“So, then what’s the problem? Tell the guy yes. The guy is almost entirely your type,” Flower says. He omits the fact that he and Tanger have repeatedly set Sid up with guys who had been carbon copies of each other. Sid is definitely aware that he has a type.

“How do you know he’s clean? How do you know that the guy is even a good guy? Have you figured out his last name yet?” Tanger asks, though he’s more talking at Flower to get him to understand.

Sidney frowns.

“Ask him for one of those profiles the agencies have,” Flower says like the solution is easy.

“He’s actually thinking about it,” Tanger observes. “It totally means Sid decided. He’s going to sleep with his hot neighbor.”

Sidney buries his face in his hands. After he kicks his best friends out of his apartment, he’s definitely going to call Nate.

Nate ends up being extremely understanding. He sends Sid a file that turns out to be Nate’s resume and a copy of a STD test from the beginning of the month. It seems a bit too prepared, almost a bit too perfect to be true. Flower and Tanger also find it suspicious but they leave Sid’s apartment to let Sidney decide on his own.

The answer is, of course, is still yes. He’ll call the school to let them know he’ll be on heat leave next week because he’ll be spending it with his neighbor, Nathan MacKinnon.

[71tenseventeen]

After

Sid has always loved Geno’s texts.

He will never admit it out loud but Geno creating the group chat was the whole reason he finally got his first smartphone.  Though he rarely said much, he loved seeing all that chatter, even when they were chirping each other. Occasionally Geno would send pictures to the chat of random things—his cat Dixie, a funny looking tree and even a wayward Christmas decoration that had blown into his backyard.

Sid enjoyed the pictures the most, though it wasn’t until he commented, “adorable” on one of the many pictures of Dixie that Geno started texting him directly. After that it was just always something they did. Geno would send pictures of the places he traveled, selfies of himself trying every new thing he could during the off season. In turn, Sid sent pictures of his surroundings. Things like the lake behind his Nova Scotia house or fish he caught with Nate and Taylor out on the boat.

He honestly assumed that Geno texted like that with everyone until Flower was being nosy one afternoon and looking over Sid’s shoulder.  

“What is that?”

“Hm? Just Dixie in the snow. You didn’t get it too?”

Flower peered closer. “No.” Then he grabbed the phone right out of Sid’s hand and started thumbing through the text history.

“Hey! Flower give it back!”

“What the hell? You and G have some sort of secret texting group? Look at all this!”

Sid grabbed his phone back and rolled his eyes. “Oh stop. He texts you too.”

“Yeah, like once a month. If that. And that’s usually only if he wants to make fun of me about something.”

“Oh.” Sid wasn’t sure what to do with that. Maybe Geno didn’t text everyone else like he did Sid, then. Maybe this was just something that was between them, their thing. The thought made Sid feel warm and he grinned at Flower. “I guess I’m just more interesting than you.”  And then he ducked with a laugh when Flower grabbed at him.

It went on just like that over the years. Through off seasons and playoffs, milestones and cup wins, injuries and losses, Sid knew that he could always count on Geno.

Texts often dropped off after big losses, especially when they exited the playoffs and this season was no different. Sid had thought that with age and experience, the losses might get easier but it only gave him an increasing sense of urgency. He knew their time in the NHL was finite and it burned to miss out on chances at another cup.

Maybe that’s why it took him three weeks to realize he hadn’t gotten a single text from Geno.  But then, it probably wasn’t anything to worry about. After all, Sid had been brooding and kind of miserable himself. He couldn’t blame Geno for needing some time and space.

But when another week passed and then another with no word, even when Sid sent a picture of a gorgeous sunset on the lake behind his Nova Scotia home, he knew something was wrong.

<Are you okay?> He sent, skipping pictures altogether.

He was expecting no response so when Geno replied, <Sorry Sid. Just have rough time.> Sid knew he needed to reach out.

So he called and, to his surprise, Geno answered and they talked. It was slow at first but then Geno was letting it all out and all of it, from his disappointment about the playoffs loss to his general worries about growing older and what his future held, all of it mirrored Sid’s thoughts almost exactly.  

So they talked a long time that night and then the next day and before Sid knew it, they’d spoken every day for three weeks, sometimes several times a day and talking to Geno was the best part of Sid’s day, every day.

Gradually, they both felt better but the calls kept coming.

And then one night Geno called as Sid was climbing into bed. He smiled as he answered. “Hey G.”

“Sid.” And he didn’t sound happy.

Sid sat straight up. “What’s wrong?”

“Ah, just have rough night. Sorry to call like this.”

“Hey, no, it’s fine. I don’t mind. What’s going on?”

Geno sighed heavily. “I not completely sure, Sid. Just know this year loss hit harder. Frustrate about my knee, about season, about a lot of thing.”

“Yeah, I get that. I’ve felt like it was harder, too, but I don’t know why.”

“It just—it make me think about a lot of thing I not think about for a long time.”

“What do you mean?”

Geno hesitated and Sid didn’t want to pry. “If you don’t want to say, that’s okay. You don’t have to tell me anything.”

Geno sighed. “I’ll try.”

“Okay. I’ll listen and try to help if I can.”

“Be best captain? Captain of talk about feeling?”  

Sid could hear the smile in Geno’s voice so he didn’t even call out the chirp. It was just a relief to hear him sound a little less stressed. “Yeah, yeah. So what’s going on, G?”

“Loss this time make me think a lot. Think about future, you know? Getting older, Sid. Keep thinking, what happen if I not get another chance? Where I be then?”

“Geno, no, you’re going to get another chance. There will be a lot more chances.”

“This year, knee hurt and it scare me little bit. Not like before. Before I rehab and come back, everything fine. This time I keep thinking, what if was worse. What if everything end for me in NHL, then what I have left?”  He sounds so down, Sid’s chest aches.

“Geno…”  But what could he say, really? Because he’d had the same thoughts himself. Not about the knee but about what would happen if it all ended. Where would he be then? So he clears his throat and says softly, “I think about that, too, sometimes.”

“Then I’m go home and Mama bug me about go out on dates and why I’m still alone and it just make everything worse.”

And yeah. Sid understood that, too. “Yeah,” he said.

“Everything just make me think about future and what I have left if I not have NHL. Is little bit scary.”

“Yeah, I get it, G.”  Because he did get it. He really did.

“I don’t have plan, Sid. I don’t have person to be with, don’t have plan for life after NHL. Have nothing and don’t even want to think about it.”

“I feel the same way. Sometimes I try to make myself think about what I want, for then, for after hockey and some of it is clear, you know? But some of it is just...really hard.”

“What you want, Sid? When it all over?”

And Sid closes his eyes because this is getting so close to things he has sworn to never admit to Geno. “I guess… I guess I just want happiness. I guess I want to be with someone and just have a quiet happy life. And maybe coach little kids.”

“You think about want kids someday?”

“Yeah, of course I do but it’s not easy, you know?”

“Why not easy?”

“Come on, G. You know the answer to that.” Because there are a couple of fundamental things that Geno does know about him that a lot of other people don’t.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t have kids.”

“Maybe. What about you,” he says, desperate to change the subject to something that makes him ache less. “What do you want, if you really think about it?”

Geno takes a deep breath. “The thing is I…” He trails off.

“G?”

“Sid, problem I have is no matter how I think of future, it never match what everyone else expect. Mama, Papa, they think I marry Russian girl, settle down, maybe have kids. Maybe coach KHL.”

“And that’s not what you want?”

“No.”

“What do you want, G?”

“Want version of future I see in head.”

“And what is that?” Sid asks quietly because he knows Geno and he knows that they’ve reached the crux of whatever is bothering him.

“I realized every time I ever think about future, never imagine it without you in it. And now I think about that and I know, can’t be happy with future they want because future I want is with you. For so long, you always there and I’m not want to lose that.”

Sidney can’t breathe.

“Sid?”

“I…”

“I’m sorry if freak you out. I know I shouldn’t say but I just keep thinking, what if I don’t say now and regret for rest of my life?”

“Geno…”

“I’m professional, Sid. I will never let it get in way of—” But Sid cut him off.

“I want that too!”

The line went quiet for a moment and then Geno said quietly. “You do?”

“It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Sid,” he breathes. “Can live without NHL. Can’t live without you.”

They talk a long time into the night.

--

The next morning Sid finally wakes up to a picture text again. It’s a simple shot of an airplane wing and Sid smiles, wondering where Geno is flying off to.

He sends back a simple, <be safe> and heads off to practice.

By the time he’s getting ready for bed again, he still hasn’t heard from Geno and he wonders where he went to. He hopes he’ll hear from him soon.

Sid is just settling into bed when he gets a text and his face lights up because he knows it’s from Geno.

It’s another picture. A simple shot of a wooden front door and—

Sid drops the phone and yanks the covers back, scrambling out of bed. He races out of the room and down the stairs because he knows that door. He knows it very well.

And when he pulls it open Geno is waiting for him on the other side.