Archive of Our Own

“God damnit, Geno,” Talbot complained loudly. “This is really not the time and place for that.”

Geno didn’t look away from the TV at first, just made an inquisitive noise, but when Max jostled him, he eventually cut his eyes over, just the tiniest hint of annoyance in his expression until Max nodded down at his lap pointedly. Geno looked down, and for a brief moment half of the team all stared at Geno’s dick, swollen up fat and tenting the leg of his shorts. Geno blew out a breath and shook his head slightly, looking back at the TV.

"Hockey," he said, shrugging. It sounded like haw-kae with his accent, tongue thick in his mouth like it always was when he was relaxed.

Sid didn't mean to stare, but once he noticed Geno's—situation, he couldn't seem to look away. It was—he was—

"Jesus Christ, it’s making me feel inadequate,” Talbot said, covering his eyes with his hand.

Geno looked up, mouth hanging open a little. “Yes, is true,” he said, indignant, but Sid was sitting right next to him, so he saw how Geno's ears went red from the attention.

"Oh my god," Staalsy chimed in. "Put that thing away."

“Where I’m put?” Geno argued, brows drawing together. He had a mulish set to his jaw that meant they were going to fight about this. That’s probably not what Jordan had been going for, but Sid could tell he wasn't going to back down, either, and maybe that was a good thing. Even if this was completely normal behavior in Russia, Geno needed to learn how it was here. It was good that the team was trying to help him out, but Sid didn't want to let it escalate.

“Just—" Sid interjected, but then hesitated, because he’d never captained anyone this way, and he wasn't really sure what advice to give. Would it be appropriate to suggest that Geno go jerk off in the bathroom?

Geno turned to look at him, and yeah, his face was for sure a little flushed, but his dick was still really, really hard, and Sid lost his train of thought completely.

Geno took a deep breath and, still looking at Sid, dropped his arm into his lap and curled his hand around the tip of his erection. Cradled it.

"When a man and a woman love each other very much," Duper said slowly.

Geno huffed out a noise and scowled to let everyone know how inconvenienced he felt, then reached into his pants and pulled his dick out, tucking it up against his belly and pinning it under his waistband. The head was swollen up fat, peeking out from his foreskin. It nearly reached his belly button, and it was really dark red, like Sid only got when he held out for a week or something. “Is better?” he asked huffily, pulling his t-shirt down to cover it.

Jordan opened his mouth, but stopped himself before he ended up thanking Geno for showing off his enormous cock. “Sure,” he conceded. “That—works, I guess.”

Geno made a tsking noise, and mumbled again in Russian.

“We just don’t want to see your dick, G,” Max said, still mostly incredulous.

“Then why you look?” Geno asked loudly.

It was a good point. "Yeah," Sid agreed. "Can we all just mind our own dicks, please."

Geno shot him a grateful look, and Sid gave him a quick smile.

“Oh come on,” Max said. “How could I possibly not notice—"

“Sid and I watch hockey,” Geno cut him off with a not at all convincing shrug. “Rest of you watch dick if like.”

And with that he grabbed the remote and turned up the volume on the game, effectively ending the conversation.

“Oh my god,” Max muttered, shaking his head, but he let it lie. And everyone went back to watching the game, not thinking about Geno’s dick.

Almost everyone.

At practice a few days later, Sid managed to flick in a gorgeous backhander, one-handed.

Flower bitched and moaned but even the coaches went on about how pretty it was, so Sid took a victory lap before lining back up to go again.

"Watch out," Staalsy said, grinning. "Geno's gonna get excited if you keep it up."

Just like that, Sid's face went hot. He forced a chuckle and said, "Yeah, yeah," and went to take his next shot.

"Best hands," Geno said, winking as Sid skated past him. "Look so good, Sid!"

Sid didn't blink. Geno was always complimenting him and Sid wasn't sure if he was teasing or not, just knew it made Sid's body do things he didn't like. When Geno had first started doing it, saying Sid was the best at everything, and bullying anyone who got in Sid's way, Sid had gone through a really hard time, trying to force away the blushes, the nervous sweats, and the weird, uncontrollable smiles that would overtake his face, despite his best efforts. He'd eventually gotten it all under control, learned how to maintain his focus, and if the whole situation with Geno's dick had put a chink in Sid's armor, Sid wasn't going to let it show.

He huffed out a breath as he reached the far side of the rink, hunkering down for a moment before racing back down to the other end. Practice wound down but Sid stayed on the ice, working up a sweat as he skated hard laps until his lungs and legs were burning.

He wouldn't allow himself to really think too deeply about it, but he knew there was something different about the way Geno made him feel. He could ignore it if he worked at it, pushing down the long list of nameless things he thought about Geno.

He started thinking about Geno when he jerked off.

Or, he started thinking about Geno when he jerked off, again. It wasn't really new. When he'd first met Geno, before Geno could really even speak much English, it was easier for Sid to forego his mental rules about teammates. He didn't really know Geno back then, just knew that Geno was big everywhere, big body, big mouth, long legs, long fingers. Sid would sometimes think about Geno and the women he dated, the raw sexuality they exuded. He liked to imagine them pushing Geno around a little in bed, making him do as they said. The idea of Geno being led around by his dick got Sid pretty riled up.

It used to be more of a means to an end. He'd think about that stuff so he could get off quick after a workout or a game, settle down and get to sleep. It wasn't like that anymore, not so urgent now that he's older and he's gotten better at keeping his thoughts about Geno safely put away. Sid could wait a couple of days now, let it all build up, which he liked to do more often than not. It was so much more intense when he got off like that, the extra load he was able to shoot coupled with the satisfaction of his own discipline really worked for him.

Since seeing Geno that day, though, Sid couldn't seem to wait as long, spending too much time thinking about how much bigger Geno's dick got when it was hard, and how he'd stayed hard, even when everyone was looking. Maybe because everyone was looking. Sid tried not to let himself think about that, or he'd come too fast. His shadowy thoughts about Geno with women started to get sharper—he thought about telling Geno what to do to them, about Geno being all boned up, thick cock in hand, so eager to fuck but needing Sid’s permission. It was a hazy, half-formed thought but it got Sid so hot he couldn't help himself.

He had to beg off early from nights out and post-practice lunches, so he could get home and get his hands on himself, get himself off fast and hard. He thought about how Geno had cupped his hard dick that time, like he was showing it to Sid, like he wanted Sid's approval. He thought about doing the same thing, maybe letting Geno see him like that, wondering if Geno would want to touch him.

Sid wouldn't let him, would just let him look until he was crazy with it, sweating and begging, cock drooling and—

He came so hard it made him convulse, made all of his muscles cramp up. It was so good, he moaned out loud, shocking himself with the sound.

Afterwards, he felt unsettled, disappointed in his lack of restraint. What's worse, getting off didn't actually help him stop thinking about it.

Sid usually liked to sleep on long plane trips, but this time their flight to the west coast left mid-morning, and he wasn't tired. He wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyway, since Flower had gotten into a heated argument with Geno and Gonch, who were crowded in next to them, standing in the aisle. Somehow, Sid got pulled into it.

"Alright," Sid said, putting down his book, exasperated. "What?"

"Evgeni says he likes having a special chair for playing video games," Gonch explained, as Geno nodded.

"Like a child—" Flower started to say, but Gonch cut him off, waving his hand.

"And Marc-Andre thinks this is inappropriate for a man of his age."

"Is good for," Geno paused, fired something off to Gonch in Russian.

"Ergonomics," Gonch said, and Geno nodded.

"Yes, is good for economic. Good for back and neck," he argued, stubborn to a fault. "Don't get sore—"

"If you play so much video games that you get sore," Flower said with disdain. "You play too much. Going to the gym is better for your back and neck."

"You play too much," Geno snapped. "Always with tiny video game," he grabbed Flower's PSP from the seat pocket and shook it with contempt. "Tiny games for child."

Flower snatched it back, protectively. "It's the perfect size for the plane," he said. "And it doesn't require a stupid chair."

Gonch sighed. "Sid," he said, sounding tired. "What do you think about gaming chairs?"

"I think," Sid said slowly, "that everyone should shut up, so I can read."

Flower crossed his arms and turned to Sid. "You play video games," he said pointedly. "Would you buy one of those chairs that have speakers and cup holders and headsets for your house?"

Sid couldn't help wrinkling his nose. Flower pointed and crowed. "See! I'm right!"

Geno scowled at Flower. "You like play tiny toys because you have tiny dick," Geno said snappishly. "I'm go play cards." He stomped off towards the back of the plane.

Flower sighed contentedly and patted Sid on the knee. "Thank you, my friend."

"I didn't even say anything," Sid protested. "And anyway, just because I don't want a gaming chair doesn't mean Geno can't want one."

Flower shook his head, and picked up his own PSP, booted it up. "Oh, you think so?" he said, already distracted. "Geno always wants what you want."

Sid picked up his book and read the same paragraph for the remaining three hours of the flight, jaw clenched the entire time.

In San Jose, some of the guys went out after the game, eager to enjoy the California weather when it was starting to get cold and gray back home. Sid had cut out early, saying he wanted to watch some game tape before bed, since they had a day off before the short flight to Anaheim. Geno, surprisingly, followed him back, announcing that this was the best idea, and claiming he wanted to do the same.

Flower shot Sid a knowing look that made Sid's head hurt.

It was past midnight when Geno knocked at Sid’s door, looking warm and rumpled in glasses and soft clothes, ready for bed.

Sid grinned at him and hoped he didn’t look too smitten. He’d been working on making his face not do dumb things, but faced with sleepy Geno in glasses, he wasn’t sure he was pulling it off.

They sat together on the bed, huddled around Sid’s laptop, and started fast-forwarding through the early parts of the game, stopping when they got to parts they were both interested in re-watching.

After a while, Geno started fidgeting, drawing his knees up and jostling the screen. It was right after Sid's goal in the second period, and Sid grabbed his thigh and squeezed, trying to get him to settle down. "Put your leg down," Sid complained. "I can't see."

Geno stilled for a moment before lowering his knees. When he stretched out, Sid could see how his sleep pants were distended, his dick pushing the fabric out. His mouth and the tips of his ears were flushed a deep red. "I'm can't help," he said, chewing on his lip.

Sid cleared his throat, pulse pounding. “You really do get worked up over hockey, eh?”

Geno dropped his hand down to cup himself over the soft fabric. "Not only for hockey," he said, voice low and hoarse. He didn't look away, eyes fixed on Sid’s, waiting.

They’d played hard and beaten the Sharks, 4-1, and Geno and Sid had both put points on the board. Maybe he could have this. “Okay,” Sid said, licking his lips. “Show me."

Geno’s mouth fell open, but he didn't hesitate before pushing the waistband of his pants down and pulling his cock out and holding it, flushed and heavy in his hand. He gripped it at the base and tilted it up, letting Sid get a good look.

"Nice," Sid said, trying to sound nonchalant about it. Geno breathed out his name, staring at Sid as his cock flexed in his hand.

Sid shifted the laptop to the bed, and nodded at it. "Do you want to watch?" he asked, gesturing at the screen like it was porn and not a replay of the game they'd won a few hours earlier. Geno didn't tear his eyes away from Sid, just shook his head.

"Okay, well," Sid said, a little uncertain.

Geno cuffed his fingers under the head and rubbed up once, then twice, sliding his thumb over the top, just a tease. Sid’s heart thudded in his chest, and he said, “You can do better than that.”

Geno groaned and let his head fall back against the headboard, firming up his grip and closing his eyes, his whole body tensing up as he started to stroke himself, slow and steady.

They were both breathing hard. Sid looked down between them while he had a chance, saw how Geno liked it, how he smeared slick everywhere, palm pumping sloppily over the whole fat length of his dick. His mouth went flushed and sensitive. “Faster,” he said, relieved when his voice didn’t waver.

Geno’s face crumpled, and soon enough, his hips started to jolt, pushing his cock through his fist with every shaky thrust. He let Sid watch, wanted Sid to watch, and Sid would give him anything he wanted. He said as much, quietly, and watched as Geno bit his lip and started to come, expression pained as his body locked up and his cock flexed and shot off in his hand.

Sid watched him, fascinated, as he came down. His lax mouth, the way his eyes couldn't seem to stay open, eyelashes all spiky with wet behind his glasses, like it felt so good to get off that he cried. Sid sucked in a breath, waited until Geno let go of his cock, leaving it fat and sticky-wet with come, before letting it out. "That was a good one," Sid said stupidly, and Geno looked over at him and smiled, lazily content. His eyes were soft, and Sid ached to kiss him.

Instead, he pulled the laptop back between them and pressed play. Geno stretched out next to him, messy and sated, and eventually made a few comments about the game. Sid nodded and grunted convincingly, but he wasn't able to focus at all.

Sid couldn’t stop replaying the bitten-off sounds that Geno made in his mind, or stop thinking about the way his cheeks went flushed and hectic when he came because Sid asked him to. It was crazy, how intimate it had been, and they hadn’t even touched each other.

Sid wondered if it would happen again.

In Chicago, Geno followed Sid to his hotel room, after barking at a couple of guys who had given them grief about being lame and not going out.

Sid felt flustered as soon as Geno snuggled up next to hm on the bed, but he steeled his resolve, grabbed the remote and asked Geno what he wanted to watch.

“You choose,” Geno mumbled, “I’m like whatever,” and then he turned his head and yawned, his lips skimming against the sensitive skin of Sid’s neck. The damp heat of his slack mouth made Sid take in a sharp breath.

“Geno,” he said quietly, hoping his voice wasn’t as shaky as his resolve. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about what they’d done the last time.

Geno’s hands started roaming, pushing Sid’s shirt up in front and skimming fingertips down the soft parts of his belly. This was new, Geno touching Sid like this, when they were alone. It felt loaded with intent, and it made Sid start to sweat.

The only light in the room was coming from the bathroom, door ajar, and the darkness made it easier for Sid to lie there and let it happen.

“Smell so good,” Geno told him, voice just above a whisper. "New shampoo?"

“Geno,” Sid said again, more firmly this time, his hand tightening on Geno’s neck.

Geno’s mouth opened against Sid’s shoulder, wet as he breathed in, exaggerating his inhale like he honestly cared what shampoo Sid was using.

He tried to get closer and Sid struggled, trying to keep Geno from climbing on top of him. He couldn't help letting an embarrassing giggle out in the process. Geno didn’t seem to notice, and it didn't stop him, anyway.

“You, how you say,” Geno said, and then made a tickling motion with his fingers.

"Ticklish?" Sid answered, voice breaking.

"Mm," Geno agreed, as he tugged at the collar of Sid’s shirt, baring skin. "You ticklish?" He put his mouth there, wet, and bussed the skin at the base of Sid's throat.

Sid forgot to breathe for a second, feeling caught out, like he was the one who’d crossed a line. This wasn't normal, for Geno to be all over him like this, but then again, it wasn't normal for Geno to jerk off in front of him either. All of Sid's safeguards for dealing with Geno were failing. He was having trouble keeping up with what was happening.

"I think yes," Geno said, grinning as he hovered over Sid, propped up on one arm. When Sid blinked at him, Geno's smile faltered. He just kept looking at Sid, too observant.

After a long moment, Geno rolled fully on top of Sid, and pressed their hips together. Sid choked out a shocked sound. They were both hard, and he could feel the heat of Geno's dick against his.

“See,” Geno said, sounding smug. “You like—"

That was enough to spur Sid into action, make him shove Geno off of him.

Geno let himself be manhandled to the bed, coughing quietly. After a few beats of silence, he sighed gustily and looked at Sid with his big, brown eyes. “Sid," he said, licking his lips as he paused, tried to come up with the right words. "It's okay. It's good. We good together,” he said, quietly insistent. His eyes dropped to Sid’s mouth. “Always. On ice—”

“This is not the same,” Sid said, hating how breathless he sounded. Hating that they were even talking about it.

Geno tilted his head, conceding the point. “Yes, is not same." He rolled up onto his side, resting his head in one hand as he looked down at Sid with a serious expression. "Maybe better," he said, and curled his other hand around the back of Sid’s neck, rubbing his thumb into the sensitive skin there. When Sid didn't pull away, he smiled again, then leaned down and pressed their mouths together.

Sid let it happen, let himself register the hot shock of sensation, Geno’s tongue slipping against his, tentative. The kiss was soft, but the feeling of it hit Sid harsh and sudden, making him feel feverish under his clothes. He roughed Geno away, pushing him back with both hands on Geno’s shoulders.

Geno looked at him, lips red, and he tried to get at Sid’s mouth again, but Sid held him off. Geno groaned, eyebrows knitting together in frustration. “Sid,” he said, more desperation packed into that one syllable than Sid had ever heard from Geno.

Sid licked his lips, watched Geno track the movement.

He could see how much Geno wanted it, his dick fat and obvious, pulling tight against the leg of his sweatpants.

He never thought so much about cock, not even his own, before he'd seen Geno’s, all fat and big and hanging heavy between his legs. Now he couldn't stop thinking about it, all the time, whenever he sat next to Geno on the bench, or worked out near him in the gym, or when they were just lounging around. He didn’t let himself look when Geno showered at the rink, but he saw anyway, pulse pounding when he tried to imagine what Geno would feel like in his mouth, in his hands.

"You should go to your own room," Sid said, more calmly than he felt. His head was spinning. He needed this, for Geno to do what he said.

Geno heaved a shaky breath and nodded, patting Sid's hip as he turned to leave.

Sid felt unsettled when he considered the possibility that Geno knew how to play him just right, in every situation. Day to day, at practice, on the ice, it was pretty much business as usual between them, but when Sid started to pay attention he realized the way Geno treated him was anything but usual. With anyone else, Geno was brash, stubborn, and downright boastful. But whenever he talked to Sid, or about Sid, it was always with careful deference.

Sid had spent years around people who treated him like he'd hung the moon because of the way he played, but it was different with Geno. Geno was every bit as talented as Sid on the ice, and generally better than Sid in most other situations. It was also only Sid, who Geno flattered like that. He tried not to think about it at all, but there was a tight feeling in Sid's stomach when he thought maybe Geno had figured him out, and was just pulling on that thread, waiting for something to happen.

It wasn’t until the overnight stay in Phoenix before their flight to Anaheim that something did..

They'd gone out for dinner, and as they got in the elevator back at the hotel, Geno stood too close. He got out on Sid's floor instead of his own. He could practically feel Geno’s anticipation.

“Geno,” Sid said warningly, heartbeat picking up already.

“It’s okay,” Geno soothed. "We just talk."

Sid huffed out a laugh, but kept walking. He held his breath as soon as he stepped into his room, Geno right on his heels. He could feel Geno crowd up behind him as the door clicked shut, both of them noticeably amped up and they hadn’t even done anything yet.

"Sid," Geno murmured lowly, ducking down to breathe hot against the nape of Sid's neck.

Sid turned around and opened his mouth to say something, anything to buy some time, but instead he let Geno kiss him, eyes falling shut at the feel of it. It was just a press of their lips, but it made Sid’s mouth feel too sensitized, flushed with heat. Sid kept his eyes closed when they broke apart.

"Mm," Geno mumbled, whisper-quiet as he nuzzled at Sid’s jaw. "Soft mouth, perfect for kiss." He cupped the back of Sid’s head and asked, "It's okay?"

It wasn't, but Sid nodded anyway.

It felt like Geno had figured out that he could get what he wanted from Sid by asking for it, letting Sid know how much he wanted it. It was easier for Sid to rationalize that he wasn’t giving in to his own urges but allowing Geno to indulge. Sometimes Geno pushed too hard, and that’s when Sid shut him down, if only to remind them both that Sid was the one in charge. The delicate balance hinged on the premise that Geno wasn’t doing it on purpose, but Sid started to have his doubts.

Geno leaned in again, kissing him softly, his tongue slipping into Sid’s mouth warm and wet and slow.

The feel of it lit Sid up inside. Geno riling him up happened often enough that he usually could deal with it, but this time Sid felt his stomach go tight with frustration. Maybe Geno was doing it on purpose, provoking Sid, trying to wear down his restraint until Sid snapped, and gave him what he wanted.

He backed Geno up against the door, pinned him hard, looking into his face. Geno was taller, sure, but Sid had strength on him, not to mention determination. He pushed his knee between Geno’s legs, thigh pressed right up against Geno’s dick.

“Oh,” Geno said quietly, blushing high across his cheeks, eyes going half-lidded. "Yes, okay. Good."

It was crazy how Geno gave up so easily once he had Sid’s full attention. His hips started rolling, rubbing maddeningly against Sid’s, until Sid said firmly, “You have to stop.”

Geno froze, going still as a statue, and Sid felt his own dick fill out, going stiff in his pants. The way Geno just did what he said turned Sid on like nothing else.

“Not—I mean,” he said, stopping to swallow around a mouthful of saliva. “That’s good but not just that.” He frowned at Geno, looked him right in the eyes. “You gotta stop doing this."

"What I'm do?" Geno asked, eyes dropping down to Sid's mouth and staring, dazed.

"You keep," Sid said, taking a deep breath. "You keep pushing, G.”

“So I push you,” Geno said, breathy and turned on. “You want like I want. You just stupid.”

Sid frowned. He didn’t like feeling like a hypocrite—telling Geno no when it was obvious how much he wanted him. Maybe it wasn’t fair of him to keep going back and forth, but he wasn't stupid. Geno just made it sound simpler than it was.

He let go and shifted away from Geno, stepping back into his room. When he realized his dick was tenting out the front of his jeans, he shoved his hands in his pockets. "Alright, well," Sid said, shrugging a little.

Geno slumped against the door, hand mussing his own hair as he grabbed at it and tugged, distraught. “Okay, sorry for push," Geno grumbled, adjusting his dick before turning to leave.

The next time they were on the road, they’d gotten into a good-natured argument about protein shakes and supplements. Sid decided to test Geno’s limits. "You’re the one who always says I know best, eh," Sid said, smirking. "So just admit that I'm right already."

Geno threw up his hands and groaned, then shoved at Sid, wrestled him onto the bed and pinned him there, tagging his wrists to the mattress. Sid grunted in surprise when he landed, and then said, “Uh, what—” when he realized he couldn’t move his arms.

Geno shook his head and muttered, “I’m push because you too slow,” and kissed him.

Sid tried to tell himself it was just one kiss, but he knew it wouldn’t end there. Geno had absolutely zero restraint. Sid had to have enough willpower for the both of them.

In all of his embarrassing, adolescent fantasies about Geno, Sid had never really thought what it would feel like to just kiss Geno. His mouth was so—so soft, plush and hot and Sid had to stop himself from sucking reflexively on Geno’s darting tongue. Sid couldn’t really focus on anything other than the feeling of their mouths catching and dragging together, Geno’s hands on his wrists holding him down, and how fast his own cock went swollen tight in his pants.

Geno pulled away after a long moment, his mouth red and used-looking. He took a considering look at Sid’s face, then shook his head on a soft exhale. “Want so much,” he said, voice cracking. The way he was looking down at Sid, made Sid suddenly desperate to know what exactly Geno wanted.

“If I say you right about disgusting drink, you kiss me?” His hand slid up to rub at Sid’s arm, petting him gently.

Sid opened his mouth to protest, but Geno dipped down and started kissing him again, dropping down to bring their hips into contact. Sid made an embarrassing noise as Geno let his weight settle, pressing Sid down into the bed with one thigh slid between Sid’s legs. Sid was frighteningly turned on, dick swollen and sensitive. Every time Geno shifted it made Sid gasp, pull his mouth away and clutch frantically at Geno’s shoulders.

Geno looked impossibly huge above him, strong arms flexed, long body pinning Sid down. It was too easy to imagine Geno fucking him like this, tall and strong over him in bed, hips working in quick, rough thrusts.

“Feel so good,” Geno breathed into Sid’s mouth, hips nudging in slow, tight circles. It was good, but it was too good, and Sid started to feel anxious. He felt sickly-hot, gripped Geno’s waist hard to try to stop the free-fall even as he groaned and pressed his open mouth to Geno’s throat, desperate for something, anything.

Geno was sweating, his face flushed, and when he fucked against Sid again, Sid couldn’t take it, devastated by the good feeling. He grasped at Geno’s hip hard, holding him away.

“Sid,” Geno whined, trying to fit their bodies together again, but Sid wouldn’t let him. "What I should do? Tell me how you like," he muttered, mouth pressed wetly against Sid’s temple. It made Sid’s dick flex suddenly, made it ache from going so stiff, so fast, skin pulled tight. He dug his fingers into Geno’s skin hard, hips jolting as he let Geno rock down on him again.

“Get yourself off,” Sid blurted out, sweat gathering at his temples. “Do it like this.”

Geno closed his eyes and bit his lip, nodded frantically. He slumped down, tucked his face into Sid’s neck and slipped both hands under Sid’s body to lift him up by the ass, hauling Sid in, forcing his knees up and open wide. Sid let Geno jostle him around, slid his hands up to circle Geno’s neck, clinging there while Geno breathed hotly into his hair and rutted down against him.

“Is make me so hot,” Geno whispered. “Is make me come quick.” He sounded urgent, like he needed Sid to give him permission and oh, fuck that really did it for Sid. “You want I stop?”

Sid squeezed his eyes shut tighter and thought yes, they probably should, but said, "Don't stop." He was helpless to how good it felt, all of his hard-won restraint barely a memory.

Feeling Geno on top of him, hard like that, was better than Sid had imagined and he couldn’t take it, felt more desperate than he ever had been for anything. It was impossible for him to keep quiet, each punch of Geno’s hips knocked a weak moan out of him, the sizzle of shame that went through him making it even hotter.

"Feel so good," Geno groaned, curling his fingers to grope at Sid’s ass. His big hands were everywhere, fingertips slipping down, down and in, forcing an embarrassing noise out of Sid, setting his face on fire.

He arched up, tried to stop Geno’s babbling with his mouth but Geno was too far gone, could barely slide their mouths together as he fucked, knocking Sid up the hotel bed with every thrust.

Sid gasped when Geno pushed one hand up under his knee and hoisted it up so that Sid’s legs wrapped around Geno’s waist. Geno’s dick felt so good pressed up against his ass, and Sid started to wonder what it would feel like to get Geno inside, the idea of it made his face burn.

They had been talking about flavored whey, Sid thought crazily, only a few minutes ago. And only a few days ago Sid had let Geno kiss him for the first time and somehow that had snowballed out of control and now Sid was thinking about letting Geno fuck him in the ass.

“You like,” Geno groaned, brow creased like it hurt as he humped against Sid faster. He clutched Sid’s ass harder and pulled, spreading him open and Sid choked, arousal stabbing through him viciously.

"Oh ffff,” Sid said, eyes closing as he started to come, too soon, too hard, too good. “Oh my god.”

His whole body seized up as his dick flexed and shot, thick blurts of come slicking up his briefs as Geno kept fucking against him faster and faster. Each wave of it bowled him over, punched stupid noises out of him until he had to bite his lip to shut himself up. He breathed out shakily into Geno’s neck and hoped that somehow Geno didn’t notice.

“Sid,” Geno breathed, stunned. “You just come?"

"I—sorry, yeah," Sid said, blushing to the tips of his ears when Geno reared back to slip a hand in between Sid’s legs to feel at the damp fabric.

"So hot," Geno said breathlessly. "Make you come fast," he groaned as he shoved his hand into his pants and desperately fisted his own dick. “Make me want—”

Sid watched, transfixed as Geno got himself off, all taut muscle and strained expression and fat, flushed mouth. He kept one hand on Sid’s softening cock, squeezed it in a jerky, uncoordinated rhythm and then slipped down lower, cupping Sid’s balls and rubbing behind them with intent.

"I want so much,” Geno panted again, muscles tense and shaking. “Sid.” He held his breath, nostrils flared as he came into the cup of his palm with a pained grunt.

Sid wanted to do something, watch him, soothe him, kiss him, but he was too overwhelmed, having just creamed himself just from kissing Geno. His brain was static, and the only thing he could think to say was, “Thank you.”

Geno sputtered a surprised laugh. “So polite,” he said, patting Sid’s cheek with his sticky hand.

It kept happening when they were on the road, Geno deferring to him on the ice but when they were alone, Geno was always the one pushing for more, like he was determined to get Sid to lose control. Sid always fought like hell to hold back, but he kept losing, and he kept doing it again, like he needed a chance at redemption.

Geno seemed completely relaxed about the whole situation, but it piqued the competitive dissatisfaction in Sid, how hard it was for him to show any restraint now that they’d started messing around. The temptation was overwhelming, Geno coming to him whenever they were on the road, letting Sid know how much more he could have, if only he’d take it.

They were pretty good at keeping it off the ice, but at morning skate in Chicago, Sid could feel something building up between them, both of them being pretty obvious about it.

A few hours later they were in Geno’s hotel room, Sid on top with Geno’s thighs spread around him, grinding down on him roughly as they kissed, working themselves into a delicious sweat.

When Sid pulled away to catch his breath, Geno stopped him with a hand on his chest, panting. He had his tongue poking out between his teeth and his brows furrowed together, staring between them. Sid glanced down and saw what Geno was staring at.

There was a damp spot at the front of Sid’s grey briefs, wetness he’d been able to feel as they were kissing, building up and then soaking into the fabric. “It’s pre-come,” he said, curious about Geno’s interest.

“Is a lot,” Geno said, mouth all used-looking. “Is always so much?”

“Usually,” Sid admitted, face burning hot, even though there was nothing usual about what he'd been doing with Geno.

He pulled up and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts and hitched them down, kicked them off all the way so they didn’t have to look at how wet they were. He braced himself over Geno again, dick swaying under its own weight, flushed dark. Without his underwear it was even more obvious how slick he’d gone at the head, the skin there shining and messy.

Geno whispered his name, breathing gone heavy.

Sid liked it, hearing Geno go a little wild for him. It was a little embarrassing, how obvious it was that Geno got to him so much, but if it made Geno feel half as crazy as Sid felt, Sid was willing to show him.

He reached down to wrap a hand around his own dick, sliding it through the mess at the tip first to get his hand nice and wet. He felt swollen, filled out stiff, too hot and tender. He worked himself a little, just squeezing, fingers rubbing nice and tight just under the crown.

“You so wet,” Geno mumbled, looking desperate to touch, but he kept his hands tagged to the bed by his side. They both watched as Sid worked himself over, forcing more wetness to well up at the tip, a fat pearl of come dripping slow onto Geno’s bright red boxer briefs, where the bulge of his cock had stretched out the fabric, straining towards Sid.

Geno groaned, knocking his head back against the pillow. “So wet, Sid. Make me crazy.”

Something about the way Geno said it sent arousal sizzling through Sid—he was wet, but it sounded like the kind of thing you’d think about a woman. It sounded like the kind of thing Geno would say to someone he wanted to fuck.

It sounded like Geno wanted to fuck him.

Sid had to speed up as the thought overtook him, making him gasp as he lost control and started to shoot off, thick wads of come smearing all over Geno’s belly, hip and cock. It left him weak, and he slumped onto the bed, sliding off of Geno to bury his face in the mattress for a moment.

He put up a hand, pointer finger extended to signal that he just needed a minute, one minute to shake off the image of Geno getting that huge cock up inside him. That and the humiliation of coming so fast, being so obvious about what he wanted.

Geno didn’t seem to mind, clambering up onto his knees next to where Sid was lying, still jacking himself off.

He felt Geno’s hand on the small of his back, pushing his shorts down. It made Sid feel nervous-hot, his skin prickling with the realization that Geno wanted to look at him, maybe touch him there while he got himself off. Even after coming his brains out Sid was hyper-focused on the harsh cadence of Geno’s breath, and the wet, slapping sound of Geno stroking his own dick.

Sid wanted to give one back, ring Geno’s bell and get him off good. If Geno wanted to look, Sid would give him something to look at.

Sucking his lip into his mouth, Sid curled his arms under his pillow, flexed the muscles of his shoulders and back, and arched his spine. Safely hidden in the pillows, his face burned as he tilted his hips up and spread his legs a little. He felt so slutty.

Geno grunted something unintelligible, sounding surprised, and Sid breathed out, relieved that he could still take the upper hand. A beat passed, and then thick, warm spurts of come splattered onto Sid’s ass and lower back, accompanied by breathless Russian commentary.

"Good effort,” Sid said, voice muffled by the pillow. Geno tried to laugh but it came out strangled, still breathing too hard to do anything other than groan.

Sid couldn’t help but feel a little smug about it.

In Phoenix, the hotel they were at had an incredible spa, and after a long workout and massage, Sid lounged in the steam room trying to plan out the rest of his evening, since they had a free night and plenty of choices. Geno had gone shopping earlier, and Sid thought he’d probably go for sushi while he was out. The thought bothered him for some reason, and he decided he needed to have the idea before Geno did, so he could do something nice for him. Only trouble was that Geno had taken Max with him, and Sid didn't feel like hanging out with anyone else.

He tried to push down the awareness that he didn’t want to share, that he wanted Geno all to himself, and didn’t really give a damn about sushi.

He gazed unseeingly at the wall across the room as he thought about it and when his eyes came back into focus, it occurred to him that maybe they could just order delivery to the room. He'd get sushi and he and Geno could eat together, and that wasn’t selfish, was it?

Geno always answered his phone in Russian. Sid ignored it, just asked, "Don’t eat while you’re out." It wasn't until the words had come out of his mouth that he realized how they sounded. "I’ll get dinner," he clarified stupidly.

"Sid?" Geno asked, sounding confused.

"Dinner," Sid huffed, annoyed, but mostly at himself. "You and me. Tonight."

"Okay," Geno said slowly. "We go out?"

"We'll order in," Sid said. "Just come to my room around seven."

He could hear the smile in Geno's voice when he agreed. Sid knew it sounded like a booty call or like a date. He wasn't sure which one it actually was.

Sid spent the next hour obsessing over Japanese restaurant reviews on Yelp. By 6:45, Sid was freshly showered and unpacking plastic containers on the coffee table in front of the little couch in his hotel room, the TV tilted just right so they could watch the Avalanche game after dinner.

It wasn't until Geno knocked at his door that it occurred to Sid to worry that Geno might think the whole thing, the spread of sushi, the way he'd demanded Geno come over, was too over the top. Sid hadn’t really planned on it being a grand gesture or anything but he had gone to some effort, and it felt kind of important that Geno like it, even though it wasn’t that big a deal.

NBCSN was showing pre-game coverage when Geno came in, stopping short at the dinner Sid had laid out for them.

“You get sushi?” Geno asked, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah,” Sid said. “Well, I got chicken teriyaki for myself.”

Geno's face broke into a ridiculous grin as he opened various containers with increasing delight. “You get ikura with quail egg, Sid! Best, best, best.”

They shoved in together on the couch. Sid pushed a small plate with wasabi and ginger towards Geno, and shuffled back and forth between the Avs pre-game and highlights on NHL Network. His stomach felt queasy, but in a good way.

Geno was restless when he finished eating, kept shifting around until he huffed and dropped his arm along the back of the couch, casually resting his hand against Sid’s shoulder.

Sid rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything, shifting down a bit so he could rest his neck against Geno's arm.

“It’s like—drive-in,” Geno said, miming holding a steering wheel with his free hand.

“Drive-ins are outside,” Sid pointed out. "Also they play movies, not hockey games."

Geno ignored him. “Very romantic.”

Sid opened his mouth to argue but Geno was turning his face against Sid’s hair, breathing hot there, and all Sid could say was, “Yeah,” his hand coming up to pet Geno’s. It was kind of romantic. Sid was definitely feeling romantic-type butterflies in his stomach. “I'm a regular Don Juan,” he trailed off, feeling silly about it.

“Me too,” Geno said, even though that didn’t really make sense. He ducked down and pressed a plush kiss on the sensitive skin behind Sid’s ear, tongue slipping out in a hot tease.

Sid went on edge right away, suddenly too aware of his body, hand tightening on Geno’s. "We don't have to do anything," Sid said, stupidly. "We can just, like, watch the game."

Geno sucked at Sid’s neck a little and Sid squirmed, had to pull one-handed at the leg of his jeans to make room for the way his cock was starting to thicken up. He always got so hot for Geno, dick going stiff from just a few kisses.

Geno dropped one hand to rub right over the tight swell of Sid’s dick and Sid slumped down and spread his legs, easy for it despite his best efforts. Geno groped him a little, kept nuzzling at Sid's neck.

“You let me?” he asked, but it didn't seem like he was really interested in the answer. It was just an act, Geno pushing forward whether he had permission or not, all impatience and no restraint.

He rubbed at Sid a little harder, kept sucking on Sid's neck. He was going to leave a mark if he wasn’t careful. Sid stopped him, got his hand in Geno’s hair and gently pulled him away so he could look at Geno’s face.

“Take it easy,” Sid said.

Geno blinked, dazed-looking, but he nodded, throat bobbing as he swallowed.

Each time he told Geno what to do and Geno went with it, Sid’s anxiety ratcheted down a little. Even if Geno was playing him, it made Sid feel like he had the situation under control.

They sort of fell into it when they messed around, acknowledged how Sid was without ever really talking about it. Sid couldn’t stop himself from taking over, and Geno just let him do it, like it was what he wanted, but Sid knew it couldn’t be that easy. Geno probably knew exactly how his casual acquiescence affected Sid.

Or maybe Sid had just gotten really, really lucky.

Sid leaned in and kissed him, holding him still. It was the first time he’d been the one to initiate and Geno clutched at Sid like he was afraid he might stop. Sid didn't, couldn't stop, just kept pressing sucking kisses to Geno's fat, hot mouth, thrilling at how Geno surrendered to it when he pushed his tongue into Geno’s mouth.

Sid tried to get his jeans undone while kissing Geno, but he couldn’t, too distracted by the hot, slippery feel of it. He had to pull away and look down, tug his button fly with thick fingers while Geno muttered, “Come on, let's go.”

He finally got his jeans open, down just a little and loose enough that he could get his dick out. He held it loosely in his palm, not wanting to get overly excited yet.

Geno was looking down at Sid’s dick and Sid couldn’t get at his mouth, so he kissed where he could, tugging Geno by the hair so he could mouth at his jawline, loving how it made Geno’s breath go hard and fast.

Suddenly Geno was gone, sliding to the floor and pushing between Sid’s knees.

“You let me?” Geno asked again, looking up at Sid and licking his lips.

“What?” Sid said, stupid with ariusal.

Geno’s mouth was right there, close enough that Sid could smear the wet welling up at the tip of his cock across Geno’s mouth if he wanted to.

He really wanted to, but he kept himself from it when Geno grabbed his hand, tugging it back to the back of his head and said, “You do.”

Sid curled his fingers in Geno’s hair, tugging instinctively. “You want me to make you?” he asked, testing the idea out, even as arousal zinged through him. “Make you blow me?”

“Yes,” Geno breathed, like the idea was getting him hot.

Sid made a low sound in his chest, and steeled his nerves. He'd never done anything like that before, but when he saw how much Geno wanted it, he knew he was going to do it.

“Okay, go ahead,” Sid said, fist around the base of his dick, angled towards Geno. “Just take it,” he said, quieter, pushing at Geno’s head. “Slow.”

Geno's eyes went dark, as he opened his mouth around the tip of Sid's cock, tongue darting out to taste the slit as his lips closed around the head and slid down, taking him in. He went slow, like Sid had asked him to, and waited there for Sid to make the next move.

Geno was so hot inside, soft, his mouth was flushed wet. When Sid pushed at the back of Geno's head a little more, he went down too fast, and Sid slid in too deep, touched at the soft place at the back of Geno’s throat, felt the moan that was there.

It surprised Sid, good feeling surging in him unchecked. He had to pull Geno off of him so he could pull himself together.

“Okay?” Sid asked, trying to steady them both.

Geno nodded, hair snagging in Sid’s grip. His eyes were sleepy and wet, mouth already starting to look used. Sid slid him back onto his cock, made Geno take him in, trying to keep himself steadier this time. He managed to find a rhythm and went with it, guiding the bob of Geno’s mouth on him. Geno let it happen, moaning when Sid made him go deep.

Geno sucked him so good, tongue lapping at The crown of Sid’s dick hungrily when Sid pulled him off. When Sid put him back down, Geno’s mouth tightened on him, sweet suction making Sid flex in his mouth, muscles tightening up like it was too much. The soft warmth at the back of Geno’s throat made Sid’s thighs tense up so hard he nearly cramped with it.

"Easy," Sid warned him. “Or you’re going to choke.” He could feel his vision going cloudy, wholly focused on trying not to lose it.

Geno’s hand grasped hard at his leg, just above the knee, and it made Sid look away from Geno’s mouth wrapped around him. He saw Geno’s shoulder moving, muscle shifting and bunching, and he realized Geno had gotten his own pants down, started fisting his huge cock while Sid used his mouth to get off.

He said Geno’s name, and it came out as a moan. It was going to be over quickly, heat shocking through Sid too fast.

His hips rocked up, hungry, and he urged Geno faster with the hand in his hair. Geno groaned around his dick, sucking harder and it was too good. Sid came like that, slicking up the inside of Geno’s mouth. Geno worked him through it with hot, tugging pulls as he swallowed it all down, making low, pleased sounds.

Geno let Sid slip from his mouth and cajoled Sid to lie down, rolling him onto his belly, body gone stupid with satisfaction. He climbed up on the couch and settled between Sid’s spread legs, hunched over Sid’s ass, working his dick faster now.

Sid arched his back, spread his legs, and thrilled when it got exactly the response he'd wanted, a desperate whine and the sound of Geno's hand speeding up. Sid had thought about it, about Geno getting inside him, and just the idea of it made Sid's dick get hard too fast, made him sweat when he got himself off, alone in his bed. Knowing that it turned Geno on this much took it to another level, though. He felt like a teenager again, ready to go again too soon. His cock started to fatten up, hanging heavy and tender between his legs.

Sid got competitive about it—he wanted to get Geno off faster, harder, better. He opened himself wider, drawing his knees under him so he could lift his hips up, putting himself on display.

“C’mon,” he said breathily.

"Fuck, Sid," Geno groaned, grabbing at the meat of Sid’s ass with one hand to steady himself as he jacked himself viciously. "You know how you look?"

Sid knew.

"Tell me," he said anyway.

"Like you want dick," Geno bit out, bullet-fast, and the very thought zinged through Sid like an electric shock. "Like you want me to put dick inside."

He kneed up closer, then slid his index and middle fingers down, dipping in between Sid's cheeks to rub at his hole, curious. "You do before?"

Sid grabbed at his own tender cock, defensive against the sensation even as he arched up for more. He shook his head quickly. "Just," he said, panting a little, "with my fingers, you know."

Geno groaned loudly. "Sid, can I do for you? Touch with fingers?" His words came out all punchy, panting in time as he jacked himself off over Sid.

Sid didn’t answer, didn't trust himself to do anything other than beg for it. He wanted it so much, and knowing that Geno wanted it even more made him moan, crazy with the thought of getting fucked, even though he never had. It had just been a fleeting thought when he got off, not the kind of thing he believed he'd ever really do, but now it felt real—like a possibility.

"I'm want fuck you," Geno gasps out, frantic now. "I’m want so much, want most, I'm do so good, do how you like—"

He really wanted it, Sid thought, even as his ass spasmed, screwing up defensively. It had started as just a part of the game, a way to win at this, but maybe—

When Geno wiggled the tip of one finger right into Sid’s hole, Sid groaned, "Oh God, fuck me," surprising them both.

He stopped, pulled in a sharp breath when Geno dropped down onto him and bit Sid’s shoulder, a sharp little dig into the muscle there. Geno moaned as he bit down, free hand wringing tight at Sid’s hip as stripes of hot come spilled onto Sid's body, pooling at the base of his spine.

After a moment, Geno’s panting mouth went loose and drew away. He sat back and ran his hand through the wetness on Sid’s back, smearing it into the skin there. Sid stayed still, willing himself to calm down.

"You welcome," Geno said, smirking. Sid rolled his eyes and kicked him off the couch.

In January, they got their asses kicked by the Flyers, 7-4.

Everything just went to shit, and they were unable to turn it around. Sid was not happy.

On the ride back to the hotel, he thought about what he could have done differently, shots he should have taken, passes he should have made. They were the better team this year, but it didn't matter tonight, apparently.

Sometimes it was so overwhelming, the drive to win, and to get everything just right. Most of the time it worked out for him, made him better, made the whole team better, but there were other times where he wished he could be more easy-going, shrug it off instead of being so hard on himself and everyone around him.

“Not Flower's fault,” Geno said, after the media had grilled them both, and Sid had taken another lap around the locker room, doling out feedback. “Everyone play like shit tonight.”

Sid knew that, intellectually. “Yeah,” he said, but Geno could tell he was sulking anyway.

"Not your fault," he said, pointing a long finger at Sid's chest and poking him there. "Even best hockey player in world, even best captain of best team have bad night sometimes."

There it was again, one of those casual comments that Geno always made that got Sid all flustered, even when he was in a shitty mood. "Right," he said, too tired and frustrated to talk Geno out of the flattery. "I know."

"Yes, yes, you know," Geno chided him gently. "You very smart. Know everything."

Sid looked up at him and sighed. "Alright, knock it off. I don't need you to say nice things to cheer me up. I'm fine."

Geno looked at him then, and it was a heavy look, quiet and considering. "I'm like cheer you up," Geno said after a beat, soft but stubborn at the same time. "I don't say nice things if not true." He lifted his chin, looking Sid right in the eye. "And I'm know what you need, Sid."

Sid swallowed, feeling caught out. He looked away, fidgeted with his coat, tried to calm himself down. Took a breath. “Right,” he said dumbly. He was feeling all mixed up, craving the acknowledgement of this thing they’d been doing and wanting to deny it all at the same time.

“You—you’re—” he stuttered, searching for the right words. He forced himself to look up, saw the warmth in Geno’s eyes, and had the crazy thought that he wanted to hide from it. He touched a finger to a bright red bruise on Geno’s cheek, feeling wildly possessive. “You should get some ice on that,” he blurted out.

Geno smiled at him, then, slow and genuine. "Is like I say. Bad night." He clapped one big hand on Sid's shoulder, jostling him a bit. The tension between them fell away as quickly as it had come on.

Sid inhaled a big breath, and let it out slowly. Geno rubbed at his neck, maybe too intimately for where they were, but then again, everything about the way Geno was with Sid defied convention.

"Sometime," he said with a shrug, "we get feathers."

Sid blinked at him, certain he must have misheard. "Did you say feathers?"

Geno nodded as he pulled on his toque, opened the door to the parking garage and held it there for Sid to pass. "Yes, you know," he said, a little impatient. "Sometime you catch chicken. Other time only feathers."

"What?" Sid said, unable to hold back an incredulous giggle. "You didn't grow up on a farm, buddy. What do you know about catching chickens?"

He let himself laugh for a bit, only stopping when he felt Geno's knuckle graze his cheek. "Good smile, very handsome," Geno said quietly, dropping his hand so quickly Sid felt like he might have imagined it. "Is nice to say, but also true." He winked at Sid and said goodnight.

Sid watched Geno walk to his car and wished that they weren't going home to separate houses.

He was still bothered about the loss the next morning, standing in his stall across from Geno as they got ready for practice. He watched Geno tape up, and as he did, he began to understand what he was feeling. Geno wasn’t doing anything to incite Sid’s panicky want at that moment, but Sid wanted him anyway. He watched the muscles in Geno’s shoulders move, his big hands and long fingers and he still thought about Geno all over him but somehow his bad mood was making him sort of calm about it.

Sid went over to the sink and splashed some cold water on his face, feeling clear-headed for the first time in weeks.

Geno was fussing with his skates when Sid went over, toweling off his face, and sat down next to him. “I need you to do something for me,” he said, quiet but firm.

“Okay, what,” Geno said, not taking his eyes off the mess he was making of his laces.

Sid took a breath, let it out slow. “I want you to go a few days without getting off.”

Geno’s hands stilled, slowly dropping the laces. He looked at Sid sideways, surprised and a little confused. He wasn’t used to Sid talking like this. “No more—?” He gestured vaguely between the two of them. “You don’t want?”

Sid shook his head. “Not even by yourself,” he clarified. It was important that Geno know that this wasn’t about Sid wanting them to stop this—whatever they’d started. He just needed to be in the drivers’ seat.

Geno seemed to get it. “How much days?” he asked, fake-casual.

Sid shrugged. “Until I say.” He threw the towel onto the floor. “Can you do that for me?”

Geno looked around. Nobody was paying any attention to them. He nodded. “Okay, yes.”

“Good,” Sid said, and they both went back to getting ready.

It was weird, but Sid already felt a little better.

The first few days were easy, they were busy and mostly at home anyway, so there wasn’t much chance of them doing anything. By Friday Geno started getting antsy, fidgeting more than usual and bouncing his knee so much on the bench that Sid had to hold him still and tell him to stop. Geno always did, and gave Sid a hot curl of satisfaction.

Sid touched Geno more than usual while he was holding out. Sid was proud of him and wanted to reassure him, but it probably was a bit of a tease, too. He would come up behind a chair Geno was sitting in and pay him on the shoulder, rub his thumb against Geno’s neck. Geno would duck his head, baring more skin to him, and Sid would let his fingers linger there, letting Geno feel him.

On Sunday, they were in Calgary, and Sid knew Geno was getting impatient. It was easier to ignore it when they were at home, but they’d fallen into a pattern while on the road, and Sid knew what Geno expected. Sid thought he could do better, though, and decided not to get himself off in the shower like he usually did. He waited until Geno came to his room after the game to watch TV, and when they were settled onto Sid's bed and the lights were off, he left his hand on his own dick, over his clothes, just resting there.

The idea of touching himself in front of Geno, when Geno couldn’t get off, made Sid start to get hard, his cock thickening up under his clothes. Geno didn't notice, caught up in post-game highlights, so Sid carefully pushed down his sweatpants, wrapped his fingers around his dick, and started to rub himself lightly.

It wasn't until Sid really started to stroke himself that Geno caught on, sitting up abruptly and staring. "Sid," he said, and left his mouth open, just watching.

It wasn’t like Geno hadn’t seen him before, but it made Sid’s cock flex in his fist, knowing that Geno wasn’t allowed to do anything about it, that his big, fat dick was going to get all stiff in his shorts and he wouldn’t be able to touch.

“Geno, oh,” Sid grunted without meaning to, face burning, but it made Geno groan in frustration and Sid stifled another noise, biting his bottom lip, hand going faster.

Geno swore, and then said, "Sid, please." His eyes were wide, mouth wet, expression twisted like he was in pain.

“You can't come,” Sid breathed, thrilling when Geno nodded, looking determined. It didn't make any sense, how Geno, who argued with everyone about everything, just went along with Sid's ridiculous requests. Sid didn't deserve him, he was so fucking lucky. Sid brought his knees up and spread them wide, making sure Geno got a good look. “You can touch me, though.”

Geno grunted and pressed Sid’s knee down towards the bed, opening him up even more. He licked his hand and then cupped Sid’s balls, tucking two fingers underneath and reaching back, and up—

“I’m want touch you here,” Geno murmured, touching right at Sid’s opening. "Maybe with mouth." He sounded spaced out, like he was drunk on the idea. “Kiss you here.”

Sid huffed out a laugh, even though his stomach went tight, nervous. Great. He hadn't even thought about that, about Geno’s tongue on him like that, inside him, but he’d probably be jacking himself raw to the idea of it later.

"You should let me do,” Geno said, like it was nothing. He licked his lips, eyes dark and unfocused. He rubbed at his mouth like he was hungry, sliding the pad of his other thumb down Sid’s crease. “I’m love your ass so much,” he said dreamily, and then flipped his hand over and dragged the tips of two fingers up and pressed in.

Sid was surprised how fast he came, hitting him full-body, like he was the one who’d been holding out. Even above his own harsh breathing, he could hear Geno crooning at him in Russian.

Sid grabbed a few tissues from the bedside table, cleaned up and tossed them aside, feeling good as he settled back down to watch the movie. Geno kept staring at him and fidgeting, unable to pay attention to the TV anymore at all. Eventually he slumped down in the bed and wrapped his arms around Sid’s chest. Sid petted him lazily and let Geno cuddle him as he drifted off to sleep.

He woke up later to the sound of the door clicking shut.

The next day, Geno was borderline intolerable. He yelled at everyone at practice, broke two sticks, and got into it with Brooks Orpik. In the shower, Sid could see that Geno was half-hard, dick hanging heavy and flushed between his legs as he stomped around. The trip to Edmonton that afternoon was tense, most of the team trying Geno a wide berth, with the exception of a few reckless agitators.

When they got to the hotel, Tanger pulled Sid aside.

"Can you talk to him?"

Sid looked over at Geno, ridiculous in huge sunglasses even though it was ten o'clock at night. "Just let him be," Sid said, having a fairly good idea what it was that Geno needed. "He'll sleep it off and be fine tomorrow."

"He's going to kill Kuni," Kris insisted. "Please, you have a way with him, Sid. He always listens to you."

Sid went hot inside, just from hearing it. It wasn't even true, not that Tanger would know how often Geno pushed Sid around.

"Yeah, okay," Sid sighed, like it was a hardship. He walked over to Geno and told him to come to his room. Geno scowled at him and crossed his arms.

"Why you want?" he demanded.

Sid raised an eyebrow at him. Geno snorted.

"No more tease," he said, lowering his voice as they waited for the elevator.

Sid frowned, pausing when the elevator doors opened and Geno stalked in. It was the first time Geno didn't seem to be into what they were doing anymore. Maybe he was just frustrated from being pent up, but maybe it was more than that. Sid's throat went tight with worry. "We should probably talk," Sid said, once the doors had closed.

Geno seemed to think he meant right now. "Maybe it's fun game for you, make me watch and forget about me," He shook his head. "I don't like."

Sid felt panic rise in him. There's no way he could forget about Geno. Everything he did, everything they did together was because of Geno.

"Okay, okay," Sid said, trying to calm them both down, even as he was aware that there were definitely cameras in the elevator. "Just come to my room and we'll figure it out there."

About ten minutes later, Geno knocked on Sid's door, still scowling when Sid beckoned him inside.

"I'm tired, Sid," Geno started, but Sid put up a hand to shush him. He needed to make sure they were on the same page, didn't want to risk Geno misconstruing anything for another minute.

"Let me talk, first," Sid started, "Because I need to make sure I haven't given you the wrong idea here."

Geno's face crumpled for a moment before he looked away, slumped back against the door. He swallowed thickly, and Sid got distracted watching his Adam's apple bob in his throat. "Is okay, Sid," Geno said finally, voice hoarse. "Maybe I'm have wrong idea." He drew in a shaky breath and shrugged, "Maybe I'm want too much, so I confuse, think you want same."

"What?" Sid said, baffled. "Wait. Do you think I don't want this?"

Geno looked at him then, and his eyes were wet. "Is not same want. You only want for fun." He looked down, clenching his jaw. "I'm want you. Be with you."

Sid's mouth fell open, stunned.

“I want you,” Sid said quickly as he crowded up against Geno, pulling Geno down so he could tip their foreheads together. “So much. I always have. I just,” Sid paused, shook his head, forced himself to be honest. “I know you think I'm good at everything but I'm not. I don’t know how to let myself have this.”

Geno made a strange, desperate sound, and closed his eyes. Sid sucked in a breath, belly clenching up tight. He slipped a hand into Geno’s hair, held him.

“When I—what we’ve been doing,” Sid said, stumbling over the words, never as good at being open about his feelings as Geno was, “I never forgot about you. I couldn’t forget about you if I tried. I can't stop thinking about you." Geno clutched at him harder, eyes still closed, but it made a delicious, nervous thrill bubble up inside of Sid. Geno was so—fuck. Geno was everything. "I can’t take my eyes off of you.”

Sid could feel Geno’s breath on his lips, and he craved it, wanted Geno close like that. “I fucked up,” he whispered stupidly, eyes falling to Geno’s mouth. “You were so good for me, and I—“

Geno cut him off with a kiss, and it was different, sweet, almost shy. "Is what I like," Geno said, when he pulled away. "I'm like make you happy." He looked away for a moment, then back at Sid. "Maybe I'm a little drama," he admitted sheepishly.

Sid brought one hand up without thinking, touched his fingers to the side of Geno’s face. Geno tilted his head into the touch, turning his face to nuzzle at Sid’s wrist. “Maybe we need talk more,” Geno said softly.

“For sure,” Sid agreed, and then kissed him slowly, tipping Geno’s face this way and that, tasting his mouth. He made sweet little noises when Sid sucked at his bottom lip, kissed high up on his cheeks, nosed at the hinge of his jaw. Everything about him was completely addictive, and Sid was insane to think there was enough willpower in the world to resist him.

Sid pulled away, eyes dropping to Geno’s mouth. “Maybe we also need to get you off,” he said, watching Geno's expression change.

“Finally,” Geno groaned, his body going slack with relief as he slumped forward against Sid's body. "I need train more for wait so long, I'm can't do," he whined.

“You did great,” Sid told him, forcing himself to ignore the idea of training Geno to hold out longer. “Take off your shirt and go lie down.”

Geno dropped his shirt on the nightstand but kept his glasses on as he sprawled out and waited while Sid kneed up onto the bed and settled between Geno’s legs. He slid his hands up and down Geno’s thighs, rubbing the soft fabric of Geno's pajamas against the strength of his thighs. Geno’s dick had already started to fatten up, straining against the fabric, not at all subtle.

He tugged at Geno’s pants and made Geno lift his ass for a second so he could pull them and his underwear down his hips, leaving Geno naked except for his socks.

Sid leaned down and kissed Geno’s neck, the base of his throat, and then trailed down to his chest. He mouthed at Geno’s nipples, pulling one into his mouth and suckling it with soft, wet pulls. He stroked Geno’s hip, ignoring his dick in favor of feeling at his balls, marveling at how full and heavy they felt when Sid cupped them in his hand and squeezed gently. "You really need it, eh?"

Geno whimpered, his hand restless on his own stomach, trailing down towards his dick like he was going to touch. It was already so hard, flexiing like it was straining for his hand.

“Keep your hands down,” Sid said, and Geno put his hands on the bed next to his hips.

Sid dropped down and took Geno into his mouth.

He’d never sucked anyone off before, but he’d been fantasizing about doing it to Geno, and Geno deserved it for holding out so well. Sid loved the feeling of Geno in his mouth, smooth skin stretched tight over all of that stiff head. He took him in as deep as he could and got him good and wet while Geno moaned his name and clenched his hands in the sheets.

When Sid pulled away, Geno looked so upset that Sid almost laughed.

“What—why?” Geno sputtered. “Don’t stop. You keep—ah!”

Geno shut up, his whole body tensing up just as Sid started jerking him off. His hand moved easy, wet-sounding from where he’d left Geno’s cock all spit-slick, and he stroked tight and fast instead of easing Geno into it, forcing too much sensation on him too quick after nearly a week of nothing.

“Sid!” Geno gasped, mouth dropped open, brows pulling together. His chest was heaving, pulling in long breaths like he was losing his mind.

Sid shifted closer, until Geno’s legs were spread around his hips, and Sid’s dick snubbed right up against Geno’s ass. He braced himself over Geno with his free hand, the angle making it easier for him to go faster. Geno looked down and watched Sid pump him, tongue caught between his teeth and neck strained with tension. Sid’s heart pounded in his chest, as he stared at Geno’s anguished face. He couldn't look away.

Sid waited until Geno looked like he was about to come and then he stopped, watching the confusion register on Geno’s face, listening to him huff in frustration. He kissed Geno’s mouth and told Geno how perfect he was and then started working his cock again, just as quick as before. Geno kissed back for as long as he could, wet and open, but his mouth went slack after a minute.

“Tell me when you’re close,” Sid said.

“Close,” Geno panted back immediately.

Sid stilled his hand, just as abrupt.

Geno whined, head pushing back into the pillow, cheeks reddening. “You do on purpose,” he accused.

“Just wait for it. I’ve done this to myself before, after waiting a few days,” Sid admitted. “It’ll be worth it.”

He did it a few more times, letting Geno get just close enough and then pulling him back from the edge, making Geno whimper with it. Sid let it build up, thought about Geno’s balls drawing up full and tight, getting a little more backed up with it each time.

"You're doing so good," Sid said, because Geno was, and he needed to hear it. “So good for me.”

Geno panted, “I’m like be good for you,” shakily, and Sid had to kiss him hard. Sid wanted to give him the world.

Sid sped up, fisting Geno’s swollen cock with quick, vicious strokes that made Geno brace himself, fingertips slipping against the sheets underneath him. Sid's arm started to ache from the brutal pace, but he knew it was so good for Geno, that Geno was going to give him everything he had been saving up the past week just because Sid told him to. Because he liked being good for Sid and nobody else.

Geno took in a few unsteady breaths before his body locked up, knees tightening against Sid’s sides, trying to keep his eyes open to watch as he came. The first shot caught on his throat, dripping and sliding onto his necklace. Geno was shaking by the time it was all out of him, louder than he usually was when he came, all these little noises moaned out.

Sid pulled away from where he was bearing down on Geno and sat back, catching his breath though he wasn’t the one who’d just come that hard, cock still rigid and uncomfortable in his briefs.

“Sid,” rumbled Geno hazily from the head of the bed after a quiet minute. “Come back, come here.” His dick was still half-hard, lying fat and shiny against his stomach, dripping come lazily onto his skin.

Sid crawled back over him, holding himself up on his hands and knees. He was still a little concerned by how much he liked doing this to Geno, having this kind of influence over him, but he felt better knowing that there was a tenderness behind it. He wanted to make Geno happy, so he would.

“You're amazing,” Sid told him honestly, "I—was that good for you?"

Geno grinned, his expression clear and content, body loose. He wrapped a hand around the back of Sid’s head, pulled him down into a kiss. "Best," he murmured against Sid's mouth. "Best, best, best."

Sid rolled his eyes and brought his hand up, pressed his palm to Geno’s chest, but he didn’t really try to fight off the kiss. He just left his hand there, feeling the beat of Geno’s heart while Geno kissed him like this was a thing they did now.