#this is awful im sorry but i need practice Wording™ again

[bumblybee-fic]

Oh no! I didn't see that last request for prompts! If you'd like, can you do something involving magical realism?

There’s something strange about Sidney, but Zhenya can’t quite place it. He’s only been in Pittsburgh for a few games now, but even he’s been able to see it. There’s something in Sidney’s eyes, something… unsettling when he looks at the ice, or when someone edges just a little too close to his sticks for his liking. It’s only there for a moment, and then it flickers away, and Sidney smiles or puts his game face on depending on the situation. 

“He’s just like that,” Sergei tells him when he brings it up. “I guess you can’t be a superstar hockey talent without being really weird.” He glances at Zhenya when he says that, and Zhenya has to defend his honor with a little shove.

If anyone else catches the way Sidney looks like he’s about to devour the opposing team when they head out on the ice, they don’t mention it, and Zhenya’s English isn’t quite good enough to ask anyone but Sergei for the time being anyway.

But he thinks about it, and he watches Sidney just that more closely.

The Pens lose an embarrassing game to Washington late in the season, and Zhenya knows he’s partially to blame—it was just an off game for him. It happens, and he knows that, he knows it, but that doesn’t make him any less hard on himself.

Sergei gives him a look in the locker room that means he’s being especially awful, and he knows he needs to go let off some steam. He’s already taken his time with his shower, and eventually it’s just him, Sidney, and Sergei left. Sidney practically lives at the arena, but Sergei’s clearly waiting up for him, and Zhenya feels a little guilty about that.

“Do you mind if I—“ he starts, but Sergei nods.

“Do what you need to do, Zhenya. I’ll wait up.”

Even Sidney leaves before Zhenya’s finished, opting for just a t shirt and shorts as he laces up his skates again, pulling them just a little too tight before heading down to the ice.

But, he realizes just before he steps out from under the runway, Sidney’s already out there.

And he’s practically naked.

Well, naked save for one of the towels from the shower tied around his waist—he’s not even wearing skates as he steps out, barefoot, onto the ice, his back facing Zhenya.

Sidney’s shoulders slump a little as soon as both feet are firmly planted, and… to be honest, Zhenya’s surprised that he’s not falling all over himself without any kind of traction.

But then Sidney takes the towel off, his ass completely exposed, and although Zhenya’s seen it plenty of times before, this feels… different, like he’s encroaching on something he shouldn’t be.

Zhenya blinks, and—

And there’s a fucking dragon on the ice where Sidney had been standing.

Zhenya blinks again, because clearly he’s hallucinating out of frustration, but—no, that is definitely a dragon, and it is definitely lying down on its belly where Sidney had just been standing. It settles itself onto the ice, and with every movement, no matter how minute, its deep blue scales shift to purple to green and then back to blue again. It lets out a huff, giving its wings a little flap before closing its yellow-brown eyes, an almost human-like smile on its face, as though content with itself.

Zhenya breathes out a curse, and the dragon immediately sits up and breathes a spray of water in his direction, which turns to ice almost immediately after it escapes the dragon’s mouth. The ice lands and splinters out onto center ice, and when Zhenya looks back toward the dragon, Sidney is there—completely fucking naked.

Sidney says something too quickly for Zhenya to catch much of it. “—, okay? Please, Geno.”

Zhenya swallows, because Sidney’s just standing there, as if he hadn’t just turned into a dragon and spat ice and then turned back into himself.

“Please don’t tell,” Sidney says, slower this time, and Zhenya nods quickly. Sidney seems to relax a little after that, then realizes that, yeah, he’s completely naked, and picks up his towel to cover himself up. “Do you want to talk—“

“Zhenya!” Sergei calls. “You done yet? I’m not waiting all night for you to mope on the ice.”

“Go,” Sidney says, nudging Zhenya back toward the runway. “We can talk later. Just don’t tell Gonch, okay?”

Zhenya nods again, because he’s not sure he can bring himself to say much of anything that would be coherent, anyway, and does as Sidney tells him.

Sergei gives him a once-over when he’s back, his frown only deepening. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Zhenya says. “Let’s go.”

Zhenya knows the stories about ice dragons, of course. Anyone who’s read one book about dragons has probably come across them—but dragons are supposed to be fairy tales, stories passed down from generation to generation meant to scare kids and keep them in line.

But Zhenya’s seen a dragon, and that dragon just so happens to be the best player in the NHL. So. That one’s a little hard to reconcile.

He braces himself for the next practice, because he knows Sidney’s going to corner him to talk—if what happened two nights ago had actually happened, because now that it’s been a couple of days, Zhenya’s not entirely sure he wasn’t hallucinating the whole thing.

But sure enough, after practice Sidney comes over and asks both Zhenya and Sergei if they could stay behind so he can have a word with Zhenya. Sergei raises an eyebrow at that, but nods.

Zhenya follows Sidney out into the hall, where Sidney looks both ways before pulling Zhenya into, of all places, a broom closet.

“Okay, so, what you saw Friday night,” Sidney says, and when Zhenya doesn’t offer anything in reply—because, great, he hadn’t been imagining things—Sidney goes on, much too quickly for Zhenya to reasonably keep up.

When Sidney pauses again, staring at Zhenya’s blank expression, he seems to get the message.

“I’m a dragon,” he says. “But, like, only at night, because I have to be on the ice to keep my body temperature stable. I’m human the rest of the time, just—it’s just easier that way.”

Zhenya nods, because this is clearly, clearly insane—but then that’s Sidney, isn’t it? A hockey player above all else, and weird the rest of the time. He’s just… very weird at night, Zhenya supposes.

“I haven’t told any of the guys,” Sidney goes on, “so it’d be great if this could just… be on the down-low for now, you know?”

Zhenya nods again, because again, nobody’d believe him even if he tried to explain it—and the look of relief on Sidney’s face makes it pretty well worth it, too.

“Okay,” Sidney breathes. “Okay, so… this is okay. Thanks, Geno. I really—it means a lot.”

“No problem,” Zhenya says, more because he knows that’s what he’s supposed to say than anything else. He has a million and one questions, but that’s not what Sidney needs right now—he needs reassurance, and Zhenya can give him that. “You never hear end of it, anyway.”

There’s a pause, and Zhenya’s worried he shouldn’t have made that joke, but then Sidney smiles. “Yeah, you’re right, I’d never live it down, huh?” He pauses for a moment, then takes a step closer. 

When Sidney hugs him, it’s a little awkward—partially due to the fact that Sidney’s hand whacks against a broom handle when he wraps his arms around Zhenya, and then the tip of the handle digs into Zhenya’s back. But Zhenya can feel just how warm Sidney is, like he’s a furnace, and Zhenya has this indescribable desire to just curl up right here, forever.

When Sidney starts designing the house—because it’ll be their house, just one, none of this going back and forth—they get a lot of shit for putting an ice rink in the basement.

“Can’t drag him away from it, eh, Geno?” Tanger says. “Too bad he’ll never have time for you once that’s built.”

“No, it just mean we’re not have sex at center ice here anymore,” Zhenya says with a grin, and there’s a chorus of groans.

“That’s never actually happened,” Sidney clarifies, because he’s a fun-ruiner. And then he smiles, just a little, focusing on lacing up his skates. “But maybe it will on our own ice.”

The rest of the team groans even louder, but Zhenya’s practically beaming for the rest of the day.